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whyamiinopmhellagain · 5 years ago

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How Dateable are the Heroes of One Punch Man?

A note, I know these kinds of things are not the only factors that make a relationship successful, but they are large ones. This is simply my take on it.

They are all rated on a scale from one to ten. If they receive a zero, they are considered undateable for reasons that cannot be fixed through emotional growth.

Also, this is pretty lengthy. Be warned, and happy reading!

Hit the Lotto (8-10):

King (9.5/10): King, in my opinion, is the most dateable hero. He’s a genuinely good guy. He also seems to have a lot of common interests, such as anime and gaming, which makes him pretty chill to get along with. He’s a homebody, which means if you get close to him, he’ll want to spend more time with you, and doesn’t mind having quiet moments. In fact, I think he enjoys them more! King is not excessively arrogant, and doesn’t appear to have attachment or trust issues. He really just wants someone to love him for being him, and not for living a lie. The fear of him getting exposed, and being surrounded by the press will probably be frequent worries in the relationship, but in both cases, it seems to be protected by King’s luck powers, and the fact that he doesn’t go out much. If you can deal with those, and help him with the anxiety that comes with it, you’re golden for a happy, healthy relationship!

Mumen Rider (9/10): Awww, look at you! You hooked a sweetie pie! He’s kind, morally strong, good hearted, and hardworking! He will not hesitate to shower you in kindness and love. He does not seem to have any attachment issues, or trouble with building trust and a healthy relationship. The major issues of this one are he’s constantly getting hurt, so you’ll never know when he’ll be in the hospital, and he’s pretty much always working. The first one is counteracted by his indomitable spirit, and how devoted he is to making the world a better place. He also would very much appreciate if you’d visit him in the hospital, and even more when he’s discharged, and still needs a little extra care (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.).The second one’s counteraction is with the fact that when he cares about something, he cares hard. If he loves you, he’d totally work to shell out those extra minutes for you, if you’re willing to do the same.

Saitama (8.5/10): This relationship is very similar to King’s! They both have the same, “we veg, we read manga, play video games and stay indoors” mentality. The same pros as King. The reason he’s ranked lower is because of very obvious depression, that is slowly getting better, but I doubt will fully ever be cured (the price he paid for his training), and there will be people breathing down his neck. If you want to be with our egg, you have to check with the toaster first. He’s very close with his Sensei, and Saitama makes it a priority to make sure he is safe and happy. Fubuki may also interfere as well, but she’s most likely no threat if you mean that much to Saitama.

Tanktop Master (8.5/10): Honestly, this man is so wholesome. The only reason he’s lower, is because we don’t know too much about his personality. He’s strong, kind, and an excellent leader! No obvious arrogance or aggression, and seems to have the ability to just talk things out with people, I realize this relationship would also have the “always having people over” thing. Except much more active.They work out, run, wear tank-tops, and have group gatherings all the time! If you’re extroverted, and like to make friends, you two will fit perfectly! He may. also have some insecurities about his skill level. Be sure to comfort him with a warm hug, because he really is a strong boy.

Darkshine (8.5/10): Remember what I said about Tanktop Master? Same applies to him. Wholesome, but unknown. He may have more strength and power, but his ego is much more fragile. He may need some comfort from time to time, and I’m sure he’d be happy to take in a hug and some encouraging words from you! He seems to have the ability to form healthy bonds, and build trust quickly and safely, which is necessary to a happy relationship. Overall, seems like a good time for both of you!

Zombieman (8/10): Odds are, this is going to work out. That is, if you can break down the massive emotional barriers he’s built up. While he seems pretty chill, he knows something. He knows that everyone he loves and cares about is going to die before him. He distances himself from almost everyone, simply because he doesn’t want to be put through that pain. I feel like he’s experienced it before. Unless he starts to care about you, and when he cares, he cares HARD. He’ll be in it for the long run. If you can take the time and effort to get to know him, maybe, just maybe, he’ll invite you over for dinner with him and Child Emperor. It will grow from there, maybe he invites you over, just the two of you, watch a movie, and sit on the couch. (Personal headcanon of mine, he’s got Child Emperor, and he loves taking care of him. Maybe when he leaves the nest... he’ll want to raise one or two with you?)

Won’t be the best, but not the worst (5-7):

Metal Bat (7/10): He’s a tough boy with a heart of pure gold! He fights very passionately for what he believes in, and won’t let anyone stop him! Except Zenko. If you want this teen’s (please remember he’s young) heart, you’re going to have to go through her. You’ll also have to be okay with the fact that most of his time is going to be devoted to taking care of her, and she’ll be around you two 90% of the time. He needs someone who can give here that sibling affection, like having a second parent. He also needs someone who can be his IQ, and his books smarts. Help him with his homework, take notes for him in class, or help Zenko study, (It probably will be a good way to win her over too), it will be very much appreciated. Also, be sure you are someone who he can be a kid with. He’s 17, and has to act like an adult. He needs time to take a break, drop Zenko off with someone, and go sit in the streets at night and eat ice cream while you both watch the street lights. Somedays, he needs a shoulder to cry on from exhaustion with his job, or panic about the future. Badd’s going to need you to help him grow. He’ll be loyal and happy with you, you just have to be patient with him, his overload of responsibilities, and his sister.

Fubuki (6.5/10): I hope you like your women in charge and powerful, because that’s what you’re going to get. She’ll be with her group, making deals and looking for more underlings. You won’t be her first priority. Don’t try to hit on her, unless you’re a higher rank than she is. Otherwise, you’re going to have to catch her attention the hard way. If you even manage to get her to see, acknowledge you, and like you, you’re not even halfway done. You have to go through the Blizzard Group. If you pass that, you must pass your hardest test, the association’s secret weapon, Tatsumaki. Older sisters do worry, and intruded. She just wants to protect her precious little sister. If you can win her over, then you have secured a necessary piece for Fubuki’s heart; she values her sister’s thoughts more than she lets on. but those people will still be there to protect her. She needs to be the strong one, because softness is a weakness. Or so she’s been taught. You’ll need to get her to open up a little. You’ll see that she has a soft side. She frets whenever Eyelashes or Wild Monkey get beat up, and buys Lily a scoop of ice cream whenever she gets a high score on any test. That doesn’t mean she’s not the leader. She wants to wear the pants in the relationship. She’s the breadwinner. Show her how strong she is, even when she isn’t large and in charge. If you can do that, her group will notice a difference in the way she carries herself. She’ll be a bit lighter on her feet, and have more courage to take on higher level missions by herself. She’ll be pretty tough to break into, but not completely impossible, if you know how to do it. (Side note, thanks to @metalbatandzenko for helping me with this one!)

Pig God (6/10): He’s mostly just here because of mystery. We don’t know pretty much anything about him, other than he’s a good guy who likes to eat. We don’t know anything about his dark side, or what he truly values. He has been seen to be helpful, and dedicated to his job, which gives him points, but not enough to make him rank higher.

Atomic Samurai (5.5/10): I feel like he’s not the first person anyone would go after. He’s aging, he’s busy, and can get quite arrogant. His disciples are like his kids, and if you want to be close with him, you have to go through them first. You must be good friends with them, you’ll be seeing them quite often. I see him as someone who’d want to keep his hero live and private life separate. Sure, he’d introduce you to his disciples and Silverfang, maybe take you to a party or too, but other than that, he’d keep you out of the loop for your own safety, so he won’t be around too much. He just wants someone to share a futon with. Maybe make him some dinner, and talk about regular stuff. Not everything has to be about fighting. Sometimes, he just wants someone to drink tea and meditate with, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Silverfang (5/10): He seems like a good, respectable guy. However, he’s 81. The only reason I could see someone dating him would be for a sugar daddy, because S-class makes that coin. As good as a guy he is, odds are, it’s not going to last very long.

Yeah, this most likely won’t be healthy (1-4):

Amai Mask (4/10): This relationship seems like every fan’s dream at first. He’s tall, rich, famous, and has a great set of abs. The courting phase to his partner will seem heavenly, as the world’s biggest superstar showers them with attention. He woos them gracefully, until he deems you safe to let into his life good enough arm candy. He’ll keep you for as long as he needs you, but still treating you like royalty in front of the cameras. In reality, he will just be throwing you under the bus for his work, and trying to cover the wounds with his money. If you (understandably) hate the treatment, and confront him about it, he’ll just tell you to leave. If you put up with it, he’ll throw you out when he needs the coverage. He just has to hope he doesn’t fall for you. He can’t let you see what lies underneath. You fell in love with Handsome Kamen Amai Mask, not [Webcomic Spoiler].

Genos (3/10): I don’t see this happening now. That kid is traumatized as hell, and needs to learn to cope. Losing everyone and everything is hard, which makes him cling to what he has. Right now, he’s clinging to Saitama, and coping with his past in an unhealthy way. While he is compassionate, kind, and courageous to a fault, he isn’t emotional ready to give his heart away just yet. Maybe in a couple years, when he matures and he either gets his closure on the Mad Cyborg situations, or accepts it, deals with his grief, and moves on.

Flashy Flash (2.5/10): Yeah, no. If we’re talking about trauma, this dude just doesn’t want to accept the fact that he has it, or he knows it, and is too scared to ask for help with it. He’s arrogant, emotionally distant, downright cold sometimes. The only reason he’s higher than Tatsumaki is because I feel like he’d want a relationship in the future, if he actually admits that he needs help, and needs to let go of the past. Then, and only then, can he open himself up to other people. He’s not ready yet.

Tatsumaki (1/10): This girl has emotional issues, is controlling, has extremely high standards, and a shit ton of trauma that all needs addressing before she enters a relationship. Also, she doesn’t cares about those kinds of relationships that much. She’s very take, and never gives. Odds are, she doesn’t want you or anyone in her life. She has a job to do, and that’s what she’s devoted too.

Why would you? (0/10):

Watchdog Man: He’s a dude that acts and dresses like a dog, and doesn’t leave his post. That doesn’t sound super appealing at all, but to each their own, I guess.

Child Emperor: This should be obvious.

Puri Puri Prisoner: If this guy likes you.....RUN

Drive Knight: Are y’all evil Cyborg fuckers?

Metal Knight: He has no sympathy, empathy or compassion. He’s old, and he has a tiny dick. Why?

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This post went in so many different directions. Anyway, please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, I love hearing from you all!

*Requests open! Unedited*

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ieatmypizzawithaforkandknife · 4 years ago

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MAG 018 - The Man Upstairs

Summary: Jonathan reads the statement of Christof Rudenko, regarding “his interactions with a first-floor resident of Welbeck House, Wandsworth.”

Obligatory confession of American confusion: This episode is about 23 minutes long, and it took me until somewhere around the 20-minute mark before I had my light-bulb moment about Toby Carlisle being a “first-floor resident”. By “first floor” he means “SECOND floor” in American speak. Yes, that’s right - I spent almost the entire episode confused about which floor this guy really lived on. (For anyone not in the know, in the U.S. the “first floor” is the floor that you walk into a building on, that you don’t use any steps or stairs to access. It is also called the ground floor - they are the same thing. If you go up one flight of stairs, you are now on the second floor, not the first.)

The first-floor-second-floor thing was pretty much the only mystery I solved this episode though. I definitely enjoyed the episode (despite feeling like throwing up myself at some of the descriptions), but as with most of the episodes, I’m left with far more questions and tantalizing clues than actual answers.

Christof describes the odd, unpleasant odor around Toby Carlisle as “halfway between the smell of the pavement after a rain on a hot day and chicken that’s starting to turn”. The second part of that makes sense, given the state of Toby’s apartment when Christof enters it at the end, but I’m having trouble placing what exactly that first part is supposed to smell like. More interesting to me though is the fact that the smell was already there when Christof moved in, even though the banging from Toby’s apartment didn’t start until almost two years later. It seems reasonable to assume the banging was Toby nailing the various meats to the walls, floor, ceiling, etc., but if that’s the case, then where was that smell coming from for the years prior to that? Did it originate with Toby himself, or did his excess meat problem cause the smell long before he actually started nailing them to the walls?

When Christof returned the incorrectly delivered package to Toby’s apartment, we get possibly the most detailed description of any part of Toby in the entire episode: “The hand was thin and pale, with long, filthy yellow fingernails. On the back, I saw a single dark red mark that might have been a cut or a lesion, but it was gone before I had a chance to see it in more detail.” The “single dark red mark” is likely the beginning of the “puckered, septic lesions and holes” Christof sees in Toby’s dead face at the end of the episode (some part of me wants to say it reminds me of Jared Key’s eye tattoos from episode 12...but I’m trying to ignore that possibility), but the fingernails are what really piqued my interest. Christof tells himself for most of the episode that Toby just has a severe hygiene issue, but if it was straight-up uncleanliness, his fingernails would be primarily brown or black, caked with dirt or grime, that sort of thing. Instead, they are yellow more than anything else. This is the first of five mentions of the color yellow in this episode - the second is the color of the growing stain on Christof’s dining room ceiling, the third is the color of the liquid that oozes out of the hole in the ceiling after it collapses, the fourth is the color of the rotting meat covering Toby’s apartment, and the fifth is the color of the “fluid” that “oozed” from the creepy af pile of meat in Toby’s kitchen. The similarity in the colors indicates a direct connection between Toby himself (that is, his body) and the rotten meat. But the pieces of meat that lined his apartment were, in Christof’s estimation, pieces of various non-human animals - so if we take him at his word, the rotten meat wasn’t literally from Toby, so something external caused both Toby and the meat to excrete that sickly yellow rot.

So what made it target or infect Toby? No clue, since we don’t have any background on him, but I sure hope it wasn’t done by touch alone: Christof got some of that yellow slime on his jacket sleeve when Toby snatched the package from him. He said he couldn’t get rid of the smell and eventually threw the jacket out - but then he accidentally touched the stuff while fumbling for the light switch in Toby’s apartment at the end. When they followed up with him, he said “he had had no further experiences he believed to be linked to these events” and I don’t have any specific reason to disbelieve that - except that that means Toby wasn’t infected by just touching the wrong thing (or person). This isn’t a Jane Prentiss-type infection. So what’s Toby’s story?

And just what was in that package? “The envelope was thick and soft - it must have been mainly full of bubble wrap or other packing material.” So...it wasn’t meat? Because that would have been two puzzle pieces fitting together quite nicely, canceling each other out, and I’m more than a little irked that that wasn’t the case. It’s like Jonathan said at the end: “Where was he getting the meat?” At first, the sheer quantity of meat reminded me, vaguely, of the bag of teeth from episode 5. Both were a multitude of body parts. But those teeth were human and the meat is (apparently) from animals, and all the teeth were identical, whereas these meats are all different cuts from different animals. Notably, they’re all animals that are typically eaten by humans - Christof mentions steaks, chicken, and lamb among them. This seems to be more of that theme of rotten food, although in this case I think the “rotten” is more important than the “food”.

Despite all these questions I have, none of these things are directly harmful. Sure, Christof’s ceiling caves in, but no one besides Toby dies or gets hurt (that we know of). But that pile at the end...I got some Seriously Bad Vibes from that. To recap, Christof found in Toby’s kitchen “a pile of discarded meat and bone stacked almost as high as a person. It seemed almost less decayed than the rest of it, though that foul yellow fluid oozed from it, and…when I looked at that heaped pile of meat…it moved. I don’t know how - I don’t know quite how to explain it, other than it opened its eyes. It opened all its eyes. The next thing I remember is the police’s arrival” - and then suddenly the pile of meat was gone. There are two things here - inherently connected, I’m sure - that I’d like to point out.

First is the eyes. Creepy or out-of-place eyes have been mentioned every few episodes so far in the series: in the painting on Mary Key’s wall in episode 4, in Wilfred Owen’s death in episode 7, in the eye pendants in episode 9, in Jared Key’s eye tattoos in episode 12 (as well as the eye in the security camera in that same episode). And with each new appearance (particularly the one in this episode) I’m starting to get more and more worried about whatever being or creature or presence the eyes belong to.

Which brings me to the second thing. One of the recurring themes in these stories has been what I’ve taken to calling “altered reality” - when things appear one way but, we find out later, were actually quite different. When Graham is confused by Amy mentioning his nonexistent window box in episode 3. When Laura tries to reverse out of the squeeze in the cave in episode 15 and her foot hits solid rock. When the pile of meat straight-up disappears in this very episode. I want to be clear - those examples of “altered reality” are not what I’m talking about when I discuss a new (to me) theme: the incomprehensible. This pile of...whatever...in Toby’s kitchen is literally incomprehensible to Christof. He can’t even put into words what he saw. It’s like either the words don’t exist to describe what he saw or his brain can’t comprehend it - or possibly both. He says, “when I looked at that heaped pile of meat…it moved. I don’t know how - I don’t know quite how to explain it, other than it opened its eyes. It opened all its eyes.” Being unable to trust your senses due to some “altered reality” is terrifying, but to experience something that is literally incomprehensible and indescribable is just another level of terrifying. And the one thing most clearly intertwined with this incomprehensibility Christof experiences? The eyes. Specifically, the eyes opening.

We’ve seen this incomprehensibility before, albeit in slightly less terrifying (IMO) situations. In episode 3, Amy describes the creature entering Graham’s window: “When I say it moved, that’s not quite right - it shifted. Like when you stare at one of those old magic eye paintings and you change from seeing one picture into seeing another.” But much more blatantly and recently, in episode 17 Sebastian describes reading an excerpt from The Boneturner’s Tale: the Boneturner “crept up to the Miller while he slept. It described him silently reaching inside him and…it’s a bit hazy. All I remember clearly is the line ‘and from his rib a flute to play that merry tune of marrow took’. And as for the rest, I don’t recall in detail.” The second example concerns me much more than the first. I feel bad for Graham, of course, and I really want to know what that creature was...but The Boneturner’s Tale was a Leitner and seemed to have the power to deform anyone who touched it.

By themselves, it doesn’t appear that the eyes are doing anything. They’re just eyes, after all. No limbs, no body. But I don’t know if they really are just watching, or if their form and actions are so incomprehensible to humans that the people in these stories essentially can’t perceive it. And if they are just watching...what are they watching for, and what’s going to happen when they see it?

This post is part of a series where I write my thoughts about each episode and obsessively connect dots in an effort to figure out The Big Mysteries of the series. All posts in this series are tagged “is this liveblogging?” Comments and messages are welcome but I have only listened to season 1, so I ask that you not spoil me for anything beyond episode 40. In the words of Jonny Sims…thanks for listening!

#personal #liveblogging #is this liveblogging?#The Magnus Archives #this is some serious Eldritch horror crap starting guys and I Do Not Like #(I mean I actually do but it freaks me right the fuck out for sure)

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fluffymcu · 5 years ago

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Confessions (Bucky x reader)

Okay so..... to my surprise, I was able to finish this fic tonight. @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss suggested I make this a funny fic with Bucky. I tried my best lol. I do my funniest in person, not in writing but hopefully you enjoy. Also the reader will be drunk. Again, I’m not at all good at writing drunk behavior. I’m 17 so I’ve never drank or been around anyone who is drunk. So I’m basing it off of what I would imagine being drunk would be, and of what I’ve seen in movies. :)) thank you.

You and Bucky were best friends. You were the one who helped him mentally recover when he escaped from hydra. He had met you in a gym. He was working out and...you were cheering your friends on from a bench. Eating. Donuts. Bucky found the scene to be quite funny so he confronted you, introducing himself and asking for a donut. You both got to talking and you had a lot in common. You know, except for being captured and tortured for years and the passion for fitness. That was 4 years ago. Your relationship has grown so much since. And you both had a slight crush on each other. And by slight, you mean giganticus.

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows as he dug into his pocket trying to take out his cellphone. When he took it out, his heart fluttered for a half second as he noticed there was a notification with your name on it. He opened it.

Ican’t stopp thinking abt uuuuu!❤️❤️❤️❤️💕💕💕💕💕💕❤️❤️💕❤️❤️❤️

He furrowed his eyebrows again at the text. Was it meant for him? Did you accidentally send it to him?

Y/n?

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😍😍😘🤣🥰😘🤣😝😛😛💕alllllll these guys here and I still only have eyesss 4u!

He wondered what could be the reason for these strange texts...and emojis. You never used emojis. Except for when you were....

Are you drunk?

Nop. You? Noppp I’m not even drinking. But I AM THINKING about uuuu! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️

Bucky sighed and got up from his couch and put his jacket on, ready to pick you up. He made sure to wear some comfy clothes since he had a feeling he was staying the night at your house.

Where are you?

Mmmmmm at the bar on 41st street. But I’m nottt drinking tho. Toatally sober :)))))

*tatally**

***totally** lollll

Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten.

Yayyyyy🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Bucky got in his car and pulled out from his driveway as fast as he could and made his way to 41st street.

Meanwhile, you were at the bar, dancing away and falling repeatedly on the floor. Random guys would help you up every time you fell. You would thank them, they’d ask you out, and you’d say you were taken. But only for today. Thank god they were drunk as well, so they believed your lie and left alone. About 10 minutes later, you fall once again, only to be picked up.

You’re about to thank the random man only to realize that this time, it’s Bucky. Your eyes light up and you squeal, wrapping your arms around him.

“Bucky!! You’re here!” Bucky wraps his arms around you to hug you back.

“Yeah, I am, doll. Let’s get you home okay?” He said, lifting you up bridal style. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gazed your glossy eyes into his.

“I’d go anywhere with you, Bucky Barnes.” You gushed. This making Bucky blush slightly. But you were too drunk to notice or call him out on it.

The ride home was relatively quiet. You were stretched out in the back seat, humming to no music and tracing shapes on the hood of the car. “So...sober, huh?” He chuckled. You giggled loudly and nodded.

“Yyyyup! 100 percent sober!” You slurred.

“Liar.” He scoffed. He finally pulled up to your apartment and helped you out of the car. Once you both got inside, you wobbled over to the fridge, immediately opening it and searching for food.

“Step away from the refrigerator.” Bucky slowly said. You turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“But... I’m hungry.” You whispered.

“I think you’ve had enough stuff in your body. You drank excessively and knowing you, you probably ordered everything on the menu; I still don’t understand how you don’t gain any weight. I don’t think you’re hungry, I think you’re bored.” Bucky said, leading you away from the refrigerator.

“Then entertain me!” You groaned. Bucky scoffed and lead you to your bedroom.

“It’s too late for entertainment, young lady, you need to go to bed. Come on. Get undressed while I get your pyjamas.” He walked torwards you drawers and picked out some shorts and a matching tank while you took off your heels. When you were just in your undergarments, Bucky, still facing away from you, passed you your pjs and you put them on, occasionally tripping over.

“Mkay, I’m done.” You sighed. Bucky turned around and layed you on your bed and tucked you in. You stared into his eyes shamelessly before sighing. “You’re so handsome.” Bucky looked down, blushing.

“That’s just the alcohol talking.” He murmured out loud; even though it was mostly directed towards himself. You shook your head and hummed.

“No. I mean it. I’ve liked you since I layed my eyes on you at the gym. I’ve loved you.” You smiled slightly. Bucky’s eyes met yours at your words. He stared at you for a second before snapping out of it.

“Right. Well, I’ll be in the living room if you need me. I’ll sleep on the couch. Goodnight y/n.” He smiled, leaving you to drift off into sleep.

He plopped down on the couch and thought about the words you had just told him. He didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to believe that it really was just the alcohol talking yet he never wanted anything more than for those words to be true. He needed to stop being afraid of being hurt, and let himself be happy. He smiled to himself, optimistic about tomorrow to see if you meant what you said.

The next morning, Bucky was up making breakfast for the two of you, waiting for you to wake up. He had a smile on his face, and a bounce in his step. It was now about 11:30 when he heard your dragged footsteps come out of your room.

He heard a long groan from your direction, making him smile widely. “Good morning, sleepy head!” He greeted, making sure to sound extra cheery to annoy you.

“Ughh, more like hungover head. What’s for breakfast?” You sighed. You looked over at the stove and saw eggs and bacon. You smiled then instantly frowned. “Did I have bacon?”

“No, I ran to the store real quick this morning and got some. I had already started the eggs when I noticed you didn’t have any.” You nodded your head and hummed.

You took a seat on the island and watched him cook. “So... do you remember anything from yesterday?” He asked, turning around to look at you for a brief second before attending the food again.

You thought back to the night before but couldn’t remember much. “Mm, not really. Just taking the taxi to the bar and then being in the backseat when you drove me home. Oh and I texted someone a bunch of emojis.”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, you sent them to me.” Your eyes widened.

“Really?” Bucky nodded.

“And...” Bucky paused, making sure to get his words right. “You also described with detail your profound liking to me. Or well, quoting you: “love.” Your eyes widened even more as your face went completely red.

“What? No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you kinda did.” He pointed his finger at you with an apologetic smirk on his face.

“No. I couldn’t have. I know how to keep myself under control when I’m drunk.”

“Ehh, I beg to differ.”

“Shut up. No, you’re making this up.” You said, getting up and walking to the couch. You were so embarrassed. Suddenly everything that happened last night started flooding into your mind. The texts. The emojis. The flirting. The confessions. The confessions! You confessed your love for him! You swallowed thickly. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even realize that Bucky had sat down next to you.

“Hey, it’s okay. I-”

“I still think you’re making this up. I don’t even remember saying that.” Bucky chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“Come on, doll. I can show you the texts you sent me as proof. I know you remember. Just admit it. Come on.” He said, getting tired of going around in circles and poking your side, making you flinch.

“Don’t.”

“Admit it then.” He said with another poke. Your lips curling up a bit.

“But I didn’t say-”

“Yes you did.” He nodded. You smiled and tried to hide it by looking away. He then moved to your ribs, one of your worst spots, starting with a squeeze. You squeaked, and shuffled away from him.

“Bucky, I- I can’t. I don’t remember saying that.”

“Oh come on! Just admit it! Admit it so I can tell you I love you too!” Your eyes almost popped out of your eye sockets as you turned around to look at him.

“Wait, what?!” You weren’t allowed to think any further as you were now victim of a full blown tickle attack to you ribs.

“What??” Bucky asked, acting oblivious to what he’s doing.

“Whahahahahat?” You giggled hysterically, trying to wiggle out of his trap without success.

“What, what? I’m not saying anything else until you admit it. It’s easy.” He said nonchalantly, blowing a raspberry on your neck. You squealed and cackled when his hands traveled down to your hips, him pushing you down and straddling your legs. “It’s gonna get worse by the second y/n, admit it while you still can.”

You shook your head, jolting as his thumbs dug into the space right about your hips. “STOHOHOHOP! YOU CAHAHANT JUHUST DOHOHO THIS TO MEHEHE WHENEVEHEHER YOU WAHANT SOMETHING!” You slapped at his hands repeatedly.

“Yeah, but this is important. We’re confessing. Well, we would be if you weren’t being so stubborn!” He smirked before blowing a raspberry on your belly, making you cackle and kick out your legs. You groaned audibly.

“Arrrh, IM HUNGOVER!” You screamed all in one breath, making Bucky burst out laughing. “LEHEHEAVE ME ALOHOHONE!”

“You know I don’t give up easily, y/n/n. Just admit it already. I’ve already told you I feel the same way.” He said, slowing down, now only scratching lightly at your sides to keep you giggling.

“Okahahahahay! Okahahay, I admit it!” You sighed, pushing his arms away. Bucky chuckled but stayed on your lap.

“And that is...” you rolled your eyes.

“I love you, Bucky. I’ve loved you since I saw your sweaty self approach me at the gym and ask me for a donut all those years ago.” You smiled at the memory that felt like yesterday.

“You know, you made it sound much more romantic when you were drunk.” He squinted his eyes at you, laughing with you before leaning down and finally doing what he had been wanting to do to you for 4 years.

By that I meant kiss you. Come on, let’s keep it PG-13 guys. Thanks.

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iohourtime · 4 years ago

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Kiokuya (The Memory Eraser) Review - With Spoilers

Since I read the book, sort of followed the filming progress, and read a bunch of interviews (that all sounded the same after a while), I should finish off by writing a review for the movie itself!

Thanks to the pandemic, I was stuck at home watching Netflix for 7 months, so I’ve watched all sorts of movies & TV; sadly most are in the average to crappy category. To me, Kiokuya was probably in the average to slightly above average category. In other words, there are elements I like and there are things I feel the movie can improve on.

The review is a bit long since apparently I have a lot of thoughts about the script.😅 I pretty much summed up my thoughts in the “theme” section. If you are interested in the book / movie differences & things from the DVD visual commentary, I included those in the script & characters section. (Movie Walker included highlights from the visual commentary here.) . If you want to discuss the movie but don’t want to put spoilers on Twitter, leave me a message.

Theme:

The movie’s main theme is obviously about memory. If a memory is making your life miserable, or even stopping you from living, is it better to erase it? Or do all memories, even bad ones, shape you as a human? If someone’s memory of you is gone, are you killed in their minds? If you think someone is better off forgetting you, do you have the right to ask Kiokuya to erase their memories of you? Are the memories gone forever? If you have the power to erase someone’s memory, what are your responsibilities? And to some extent, what are the criteria to evaluate each request and what due diligence should you do before you accept this task? These were the questions the movie wanted you to ask. You know because the movie kept hitting you on the head through the dialogue! That’s probably my main complaint about the movie.

I didn’t study film so I don’t know the theories, but I think being heavy handed at telling you what you should be thinking is like listening to a textbook; it robs the audience of the chance to experience and internalize what they saw, and as a result, they are less able to connect emotionally to the film. That’s not to say people are not moved by the movie and empathize with the characters. I feel that it had more to do with the actors than the script though.

I think the cinematography was generally nice. I liked how they used the drone shots to film the beautiful Hiroshima scenery. The sunset scene was beautiful. The music did not seem intrusive. Other than that, I’m not sure I have more to say. (Fine. Yamada looked good in the plaid shirts and his hair was on point.)

Script vs Book: (Spoiler alert from here on!)

Kiokuya, the movie, was an adaptation of a “horror” novel of the same name. Although there were horror elements, mostly because Kiokuya was kind of a shadowy figure, even the novel itself was focused more on humanity. The original story was divided into 4 parts; the first 3 parts were really 3 separate short stories that explored different reasons people have for wanting their memories erased. The final part was about Kiokuya herself. The Ryoichi character simply served as a bridge between the stories. Here’s a brief description:

Kyoko - A while ago, she was attacked in a dark alley but was saved at the last minute. Even though she was unharmed, she developed a crippling phobia of the dark, so she locked herself inside her home at night and was not able to live a normal life. She and Ryoichi were kinda but not really dating, and Ryoichi, being a typical guy, figured he could fix her. Kyoko tried everything but as a last resort, she asked Kiokuya to erase her memory of the attack. Since her relation with Ryoichi was based almost entirely on overcoming the phobia, she forgot him too. Through this incident, Ryoichi remembered how Maki had her memory erased when she was 5 or 6 - she saw her mom confessing to her dad that she had an affair with her uncle. Kiokuya might have erased Maki’s memory a second time when she was 10-12. Finally, he realized he “forgot” about his year-long investigation of Kiokuya with Takahara & others. It seemed like he was doggedly pursuing Kiokuya because he felt violated more than his undying love for Kyoko. In his own words, he didn’t try to rebuild his relationship with Kyoko again after she forgot about him. There was nothing stopping him, so his feelings towards Kyoko were not that deep.

Takahara - He was a 30 year old ikemen lawyer, though like the movie, he was dying. The chapter focused on his touching friendship with his assistant. Takahara was also close with Nanami, a suicidal, 17-year-old daughter of a client who became very attached to him. When Takahara found out Nanami planned to kill herself after he died, he asked Kiokuya to erase her memory of him so that she would live on.

Misao & Kaname - They were childhood friends and Misao started crushing on Kaname. She confessed and was rejected, but after that, they were not able to be friends like before. She figured if she erased everything about Kaname, they may be able to start over and become friends again without the awkward feelings.

Maki - Ryoichi thought Maki was looking for Kiokuya to erase some unpleasant memories. Then he found out she was Kiokuya, who inherited her ability from her grandfather. In the end, Maki confessed to the burden of being Kiokuya and Ryoichi told her he would support her and that she didn’t have to do it alone. Maki decided to erase anything Kiokuya related in his memory, but their friendship remained intact. Oh, Maki was 17 in the book and also had a crush on Ryoichi. She erased his memories many times before. Like in the movie, she also would like Ryoichi to love her just once, although he never ever saw her as anyone other than his annoying little sister. 😅

The director of the movie, Hirakawa Yuichi, also wrote or co-wrote the script. While the movie stuck to the themes of the novel, the motivations were completely different. Kyoko and Misao were both rape victims, Takahara now wanted to protect his young daughter from the sadness of his death, and Maki was herself kidnapped by a psychopath when she was a kid. I guess Hirakawa needed to pump up the drama and felt the stakes were not high enough for a 2 hour movie? There is always some uneasiness with using rape and trauma to move the story along. I guess there is a difference between this and the usual example of “fridging a female character”, i.e. kill a love interest of the hero to motivate him on some journey. Ryoichi was motivated by being erased and he actually gradually realized he should not push for restoring Kyoko’s memories if it was her wish. He only found out what happened to her at the end of the movie. Considering their relationship in the movie was a lot more serious, they couldn’t really use the phobia of darkness reason. However, it would also take something really big for Kyoko to want her memory erased while not talking to Ryoichi beforehand. Anyway, I really don’t see a way out of this.

For Misao though, I didn’t think they needed to make her a victim of the same serial rapist, especially when they use the same reason as the book for erasing Kaname. I suppose they need to explain why Nanami (and later Ryoichi) was looking into them? But they could just have the doctor referred the case (who appeared to be breaking doctor-patient confidentiality?! Just me?) In fact, the whole Misao / Kaname storyline didn’t really do much other than allowing Ryoichi to find out from Kaname that Kiokuya was a young girl.

Maki’s childhood trauma was also a bit excessive. I can’t see it as anything other than to get Ryoichi out to Hiroshima to talk to Grandpa. While finding out mom was “dealing with” uncle would be traumatic for a young child, it might not be dramatic enough for a movie.

Ryoichi & Maki’s origins were also changed. They were now raised in Hiroshima and moved to Tokyo to attend university. The only reason was to place Grandpa-Kiokuya in Hiroshima after the bombing. While I liked the grandpa scene, was it necessary? They already covered the “Kiokuya after WWII” with the interview with the elderly woman. I think they could still keep Grandpa, since he was Kiokuya (and ironically suffering from Alzheimer’s) but maybe just skip the elderly woman part and use those minutes to build Ryoichi & Kyoko’s relationship!

Upgrading Ryoichi & Kyoko’s relationship to being engaged gave him more incentive to look for Kiokuya, but all we got to see was 1 proposal scene and some snapshots, which made it harder for us to understand the loss Ryoichi experienced when Kyoko forgot him. Ultimately, I feel that more time should be given to the “before” times. They don’t even need that much. If done effectively like the movie Searching with John Cho, 5 minutes or so of clips would be enough to get us to care more. I’m not saying people won’t care, but it’s true that there are people who didn’t quite feel it. Yamada basically had to sell it with longing looks at Renbutsu, so how deeply you feel for them depends on whether you buy it or not.

Takahara’s story might have been changed because of who they cast. Also, Takahara & Nanami’s relationship in the book was kinda weird, considering Nanami actually loved him and she was 17 while he was 30. I definitely cannot agree with how Movie Takahara wanted to erase his daughter’s memory to spare her the pain of losing him. It reminded me of that Black Mirror episode where the mom put in a blocker to shield her daughter from bad things. It ended up messing up the girl & broke their relationship. Young children are resilient and the sadness would eventually change into something else, which would shape their characters. Also, just because she forgot her birth father didn’t mean she would suddenly get along with her stepfather. I won’t even get into the whole consent thing. It was a good thing Maki did not follow through.

Less good was what Movie Maki did to Ryoichi & Kyoko though. When I found out Movie Ryoichi & Kyoko were engaged instead of “pre-dating” like in the book, I was quite worried they would have Movie Maki erase Ryoichi from Kyoko’s mind for selfish reasons. I was hoping that maybe he got erased by mistake, but unfortunately, the script did go with the jealousy angle, which made Maki extremely unsympathetic.

In the visual commentary, they said they rewrote the ending because it didn’t fit. Maki erased her entire existence from Ryoichi's mind as penance for what she did. (I think initially, they were going with the book ending where Maki just erased Kiokuya from his head.) In the end, the actual cut used in the movie was more ambiguous - they “left it to the audience” to decide how much Maki erased and whether Ryoichi & Kyoko got a second chance at happiness. (The director said it ended on a hopeful note. Take it how you want.)

It’s unclear if Movie Maki erased Ryoichi’s memories more than once, but Book Maki had done it many times. Even though Book Maki seemed more responsible with her powers and didn’t slip up like Movie Maki, she did wipe part of Ryoichi’s memories without his consent. Ryoichi said that she didn’t have to do this alone and she could lean on him, so why didn’t she? Also, losing all that memory got to have some long term effect on him, right? In the movie, it was worse because Maki took the “easy” way out by erasing herself. Yes, she was punishing herself, but shouldn’t the more courageous thing to do was to own up to what she had done and work for Ryoichi’s (& Kyoko’s) forgiveness?

Speaking of Ryoichi’s forgiveness, I actually saw some viewers calling Ryoichi a cad for telling Maki that he would always protect her and be by her side to protect her. Apparently they seemed to think he was in love with Maki and forgot all about Kyoko. Well, I think in that moment, there were 3 things going on: 1) Takahara told him that it was better to forgive and that there will be justice in other ways, 2) he understood why it was devastating to Kyoko to remember what happened and 3) Maki was like his little sister. His immediate desire to comfort his friend overrode the anger and betrayal he might have felt. Had Maki not erased his memory around 2 minutes after, who knew if they would have a more substantial talk? He didn’t even have a chance to talk to Kyoko. (I suspect Maki would have tried to “spare him” by erasing his relationship with Kyoko as well. He still ended up at the cafe because he could remember physically going there a lot.)

Overall, I think the movie was a bit unfocused due to some extraneous storylines and having too much exposition, which was a disservice to some of the characters. It failed to show how their relationships build, like Ryoichi & Takahara became buddies over what seemed like a week! I wish they trimmed a couple of the minor stories and used that time to go deeper on the main lines.

Characters / Actors:

Yoshimura Ryoichi (Yamada Ryosuke)

I was watching the movie and halfway through when it hit me… Yamada’s Ryoichi was… normal? I mean obviously quite good looking in the boy-next-door kind of way, but Ryoichi was a regular, run-of-the-mill university student, who was normally an optimistic and forgiving but happened to be dealing with heartbreak at the moment. Seriously, if you’ve watched Yamada’s other works, his characters are usually kind of comedic, sort of pathetic, occasionally brilliant, psychotic, or… non-human. (Very odd roles for a Johnny’s actor.) He probably has not been this normal since the 24Hr drama. He still cried a lot, so that’s familiar.

OK, let’s get back on topic. Since Book Ryoichi functioned more as a character that connects the short stories rather than a real character, I didn’t have hopes for the movie version. Surprisingly, Movie Ryoichi came across as a real person and I did care what happened to him. While we didn’t get to see how Ryoichi & Kyoko were in happier times, he was able to convey the longing and slight awkwardness in their interaction when he tried to talk to her after. Similarly, in the scene where he learned of Takahara’s death, you could tell what was going through his mind even though he said nothing. Same with the final “confrontation” with Maki. Even though he didn’t say much, his eyes conveyed the emotions subtly: the longing, shock, confusion, etc. Overall, he was quite subtle and natural. As the articles say, he managed to “suppress his aura” and played an average guy. I hope he can play more of these subtle types of roles in future. (It is unfortunate that a lot of people have preconceived notions about Johnny’s actors, to put it politely. It’s like the reverse of the “fan blinder” that we sometimes get accused of having.)

Now there are some discussions as to whether he overacted in the crying scenes. The main “crying” scenes were probably 1) confession to grandpa in Hiroshima, 2) in the rain, and 3) reading the letter. I’ve seen people say he overacted in either 1) or 2).

When I first watched the Hiroshima scene, I did feel that his crying may have been a bit much because I was watching the movie with just Japanese subtitles, so I missed an important detail: Ryoichi told his mom he was going to Hiroshima to confront his past. When you consider that Ryoichi had been carrying the guilt for “causing” Maki’s kidnapping for 15 years, it was totally reasonable for him to prostrate himself in front of Grandpa. He would also be relieved when Grandpa told him the statute of limitation was over and he should forgive himself. As an aside, according to the director in the visual commentary, Yamada cried in the first take of the scene. Hirakawa said “Aren’t you crying too much?” Yamada said “OK, I’ll do another take without crying.” However, when the Director was cutting the movie together, he suddenly saw Ryoichi’s mental journey and ended up using the first take because it was the logical conclusion to the closure he got.

In the rain scene, he just learned about Kyoko’s attack. Knowing how much hurt she endured and how he did nothing to support and comfort her, he was still in a state of shock when he got knocked down. Then the dam burst and he cried hysterically. That seemed quite reasonable to me. I was more shocked that nobody checked on the guy who fell on the pavement and was crying. Pedestrians were cold! So I don’t really understand the objection to that scene. Maybe they thought this was something that happened a while ago and/or he didn’t love Kyoko that much, so he wouldn’t be that emotional?

I don’t think people have issues with the letter scene? Narratively, it made the most sense since he was close with Takahara, who was literally speaking to him from the grave via the letter. Oh, they talked about filming the letter scene in the visual commentary. Yamada was just reading the letter in silence and they added in Takahara’s narration in post production. Since he wanted to save the emotional outburst for the real take, he did not dare to look at the letter during the rehearsal.

One last thing, Yamada and Yoshine spoke in Hiroshima-ben when they were talking amongst each other. I have horrible listening skills and while I think he used some slang or phrasing, his accent still seemed mostly Kanto. It’s like if I call a bunch of people “wankers” with a Canadian accent; it doesn’t make me sound English. Maybe someone can tell me just how well (or not) he did.

Kawai Maki (Yoshine Kyoko)

I have only watched Yoshine in the drama Stay Tuned and I liked her there. She played this airhead character who could be super annoying if the balance was off, yet she came across as likeable. I think she portrayed Maki very well in this movie. Of course, I knew she was Kiokuya going in, so even at the beginning, you could see some of her subtle reactions to the Kiokuya discussions. I really liked her chemistry with Yamada - they felt like they could have been lifelong friends. While she played the annoying little sister part quite well, you could also see the pain she felt when she had to make difficult choices like erasing Nanami’s memory. Throughout the movie, you could sense her regret for what she did to Ryoichi. Her emotions in the final scene were also very raw. While Maki’s characterization was problematic, Yoshine was really good at playing that character and you might even be sympathetic towards her. Also, I feel that her Hiroshima-ben might be more on point? Some people didn’t buy that she was in love with Ryoichi the whole time. I thought the flashbacks made it pretty clear but I’ve also read the book, so there’s that.

In the visual commentary, they were talking about their various acting styles. Yoshine said she carried her emotions with her even after the director shouted cut. So when she was shooting the last scene, she was still crying furiously afterwards. Yamada said she was like an acting monster - she could get right into the emotions even during the table read. It was funny how different she is from Yamada and Renbutsu. They are the flip-the-switch type - when the director yells cut, it was like they woke up from a dream into a different world. She also apologized to Yamada when they were watching the scene where she confessed to selfishly erasing Kyoko’s memory of Ryoichi.😅

Takahara Tomoaki (Sasaki Kuranosuke)

I have not seen Sasaki’s other projects, so I had no idea what to expect. His Takahara came across as pretty charming, easy going, and playful, though you could feel his love for his daughter and the hard decision he had to make. He also had a natural chemistry with the other cast and was very believable. While I disagree with what Takahara wanted, Sasaki’s acting as Takahara made sense. I don’t know what more to say. It is probably expected since he is a veteran and is generally well regarded as an actor.

Sawada Kyoko (Renbutsu Misako)

I have only seen Renbutsu in Hagaren. I liked her character there. I also liked how Yamada decided to break the ice with her back then by asking if she has any friends. (She had more friends than him. 😅) To be honest, there wasn’t much for her to do in this movie, although I think she was believable as the very confused Kyoko. She was apprehensive about Ryoichi in the “after” scenes, who was honestly coming across too strong. I don’t think Ryoichi & Kyoko really had crackling sexual chemistry based on the proposal scene, but they seemed like a cute couple. They were pretty cute together in the behind-the-scenes featurette when they took the “dating photos”. I wish those dates were included in the movie.

Conclusion:

As you can see above, I have some general issues about the script but I think the actors elevated the story. The movie could have been better if it streamlined some of the storylines. Right now, it was trying to go for a deeper message but the stories themselves were a bit too superficial to accomplish that. I suppose the problem was that the original novel was more like an anthology of short stories dealing with memory, so it was hard to create a through line for a movie.

#Kiokuya #anata ha wasurenai #yamada ryosuke #yoshine kyoko #sasaki kuranosuke #renbutsu misako #review #spoilers #the memory eraser

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1171

survey by ohsh1t2wksl8

What Rhymes With “AB”?

1. Do you have nice abs? Do you know anyone who has nice abs? Andi works out and they like sharing with me their progress every month. They’re turning out to have great abs. 2. Do you blab other peoples’ secrets? Do you like to gossip? I’d still join in if it were about something juicy, tbh. But those years are also far behind me for the most part; I like taking part in wholesome gossip these days, like if someone from high school gave birth or found a better relationship to be in. 3. Have you ever ridden in a taxi cab before? Where to? Yes, we’ve had to take taxis to the airport a few times. I never understood why; for the next few trips after that we used our car to get to the airport anyway, so those couple of rides were weird. I can tell you it’s not very convenient being squished in a sedan with 5 people, with all our bags to boot. :( I’ve also had to take cabs in Singapore, China, and Korea when we went. 4. Do you know anyone who’s caught crabs? Probably. I just wouldn’t be aware of it. 5. Have you or someone you know ever had a hermit crab as a pet? One of my colleagues from college, Hannah, owns a couple of hermit crabs.

6. Do you know how to dab? I guess. I’ve just never willingly done it. 7. Do you have any clothing that looks drab? I don’t think so. If not black, most of my clothes are in muted, calm shades, but not dull or depressing ones. 8. Do you use abbreviations in place of longer words? Do you ever refer to something as “fab”? Not abbreviations, but shortcuts. I always call delivery fee ‘deli fee’ instead. And some people my age would usually call Starbucks ‘Starbs.’ 9. Does you body have any excess flab? Where? Yeah, my upper arms will jiggle a bit if I shake them. 10. Who do you know that likes to gab a lot? What do they go on and on about? My mom is insanely talkative and will go through 5 backstories before proceeding to her actual story. 11. When’s the last time someone jabbed you with a needle? No one’s ever done it to me on purpose (and that’s very crappy??) but I’ve stabbed myself in the palm a few times while I’ve been embroidering. I haven’t gotten back to it for several months now, though. 12. Did you have a science lab class during school? Yeah, we had separate lab classes in high school. I liked them, since it was fun to be more hands-on instead of just spending 45 minutes listening to lectures and staring at the blackboard. I especially enjoyed when we were allowed to mix chemicals, heheheh. 13. Have you ever nabbed something from a store before? What was it? We accidentally stole a box of crayons from a bookstore once. No one noticed my mom still had it in her hand until we walked out of the store haha. We immediately went back inside and either paid for it or put it back on its shelf, I don’t remember which. 14. Do you know anyone who’s been to rehab? What were they in for? I don’t think so. But this is also keeping in mind that the Philippines is a shitty country with no decent rehab centers because most people believe that those with addiction problems don’t deserve a second chance at life. 15. How many backstabbers have you cut from your life? Just one. I’ve been careful ever since that person. 16. Do you pick at your scabs? Sometimes. 17. What’s the last slab of meat you’ve eaten? I had a few pieces of pork in the jjajangmyeon I ordered last Thursday. I don’t think I had meat at all yesterday. 18. Is anything in your house looking shabby? No, my mom is very particular about cleanliness and she’ll immediately fix up a area she thinks is starting to look shabby. 19. When’s the last time you felt crabby? Why? I’m usually crabby every morning at the start of my shifts, just because I always feel tense about the flood of deliverables that would inevitably come to me; though I do start loosening up once I’m able to figure out my schedule and time management for the day. 20. Who’s the last person you wanted to stab? What did they do in order to make you feel that way? One of the clients I handle. He was onboarded just this January but we quickly learned that he’s very hard to work with; and my team actually received news super recently that he’s gonna be let go of/is willingly resigning because of the challenges in ways of working. I’m soooo relieved. It was a tornado as soon as he came in. 21. How many tabs are open on your internet browser right now? Continued 8 hours later. On this current window, 10 tabs. I have other windows open though. 22. Has anyone ever tried to get grabby with you when you didn’t want them to? I don’t know what this means...but based on what I saw on Google, does this also mean possessive? If that’s correct, then yeah, it’s happened before. My ex was super suspicious of guys and didn’t like my guy friends for no reason at all, which I found disturbing. 23. What would you put on a Krabby Patty? Oh god, I would just go for the recipe they already show on Spongebob. I would honestly go for the King-Size Ultra Krabby Supreme double batter-fried on a stick though; that looked craaaaazy good on TV. 24. Do you know anyone named Abby? That’s my mom’s name. 25. Do you have one of those grabber claws that helps you grasp things that are out of reach? Not anymore, but we had a toy like that when we were kids. 26. Do you like to play Scrabble? Are you any good at it? I do like playing Scrabble. I think I do pretty well in word games in general, but I think I got even better at Scrabble since I took an actual class on it, so I learned a lot of rules and tricks to be able to win. 27. Is it cute when babies babble? What do you think they’re trying to say? It’s cute but it’s not at the top of my list. I’m guessing they’re just excited about everything since it’s all new to them. 28. What’s the last thing you dabbled in/with? Livetweeting after SO FUCKING LONG. I don’t think I’ve done it in like 6 or 7 years...doing it all over again was such a thrill, and it was as exciting as it had been from when I was a teenager. 29. Do you have any dividers or folders with any tabs on them? Just on my laptop haha, nothing physical. 30. Did your parents keep close tabs on you when you were a teenager? Initially, but they gradually let go the older I got. 31. How high has your bar tab been? Idk, maybe a little over ₱3000? I remember how my friends and I ended up buying a crap load of pitchers and bar food from our usual bar once since we ended up really enjoying our time there. 32. Have you ever made jewelry out of the silver tabs on soda cans? Nope. [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#survey #surveys

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

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Catch Me If You Can (39/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: thank you to @resident-of-storybrooke for literally everything, to @imagnifika for this banner, and to all of you for all of your support on this story and on others. I never expected to get quite so attached to this one, so I like that you guys are too. Misery loves company and all that. lol.

I hope you enjoy the last real chapter. The epilogue will be coming soon! ❤️⚾️

(If there’s any weird formatting, hop on over and read on AO3. Tumblr is being funky with my formatting.)

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40

-/-

Outside, thunder rolls, quickly followed by a flash of lightning that illuminates the bedroom.

It’s raining.

Raining.

On the final day of the World Series.

Fuck.

Emma jolts up in bed so quickly that her head gets a little dizzy, all of the blood that’s supposed to be in other parts of her body very obviously in the wrong space, and she has to shut her eyes to keep from throwing up while the sound of rain continues to pitter outside, a continual drip that she doesn’t want to be hearing.

It cannot rain today.

After a few seconds, when Emma’s head feels normal again and not like she’s about to feel dizzy enough to fall down even without standing, she opens her eyes and twists to the side to make sure that Killian is still sleeping.

He isn’t.

In fact, he’s not even in bed.

For a moment, Emma wonders if she should bother to go and find him or let him be by himself wherever he is in the apartment. He was understandably quiet on the entire way home and through dinner last night, and she could practically see all of the gears turning in his head. There’s an unwritten list up there of how he wants to pitch to each and every batter on the Dodgers today, and Emma is almost positive that Killian is currently going through it and changing his game plan over and over again until he perfects it.

Considering the fact that her phone says it’s three in the morning, Emma is thinking that she needs to drag Killian back to bed. He may not fall asleep, but he can at least stay in bed so that his body gets a little bit of rest. Maybe he’ll fall asleep. Maybe he won’t. But it’s worth the effort.

Sighing, Emma pulls the thick covers off of her legs and adjusts her pajama pants so that they’re not hanging below her ass from where they shifted in her sleep. She doesn’t bother turning any lights on, the city and the storm bringing in enough that she can see without it, and after walking out into the hallway, Emma doesn’t even have to look in the spare bedroom or the gym to find Killian.

He’s sitting on the window seat in the living room, his legs pulled up to his chest and his cheek resting against the window as he looks outside, very obviously awake.

Killian is going to stress himself out far too much.

Quietly, she makes her away over to him, and while he doesn’t say anything to acknowledge her presence, he does let his legs fall open in obvious invitation for her to join him on the seat. She does, slowly adjusting herself to make herself comfortable while Killian wraps his arms around her stomach so that the warmth of his palms permeates over her skin to warm her from the chill of the apartment. It’s November in two days, but New York is already cold.

There’s a brush of scruff against her cheek followed by the soft press of lips against the underside of her jaw before Emma sees the reflection in the window of Killian resting his chin on the top of her head.

His fingers tap against her stomach in a pattern that she doesn’t recognize, but she doesn’t mind. She may have come out here to convince Killian to come back to bed, to get some rest so he won’t be like a zombie out on the field today, but there’s something almost soothing about watching the rain fall down to the ground to cover the street under the florescent lighting of the street lamps. Even with the thunder, the sound of rain is relaxing, and Emma can understand why Killian was out here being consumed by it.

(She’d still prefer the rain to stop.)

“What are you thinking about?” Emma whispers.

“You.”

“Liar.”

Killian chuckles, something deep in his belly, and she can feel it reverberate throughout her back from where he’s pressed up into her. “I mean, at this particular moment I was legitimately thinking about how good you smell, but no, I haven’t been thinking about you and the softness of your hair the entire time.”

“Damn. I thought our deal was that you always had to think of me and nothing else. Don’t you love me?”

Killian squeezes her stomach. “It’s too early in the morning for you to be so cheeky.”

“Says the man who probably never even went to sleep.”

“I did go to sleep,” he sighs, and Emma watches his eyes flutter closed in the window. “I maybe woke up an hour or so ago to use the restroom, and my mind just…it didn’t bloody turn off. I have changed mine and Al’s game plan at least seven times.”

Wow. She knows him so well. It’s almost a little ridiculous. Not that she’s complaining.

“Let’s…” Emma hesitates, not sure what exactly what to say that she hasn’t already said. “Let’s talk about something other than baseball, okay? We will talk about it after we’ve gone back to sleep and gotten some rest, but for now, this apartment is a no baseball zone. So, talk to me about literally anything else.”

His fingers keep tapping against her stomach, and Emma moves to place her hands over his, a silent reminder that she’s right here and not going anywhere. She may have run before, may have not known what to do when he lied about his shoulder and his accident and everything that came with that, but she’s not going to run now.

This entire relationship has been terrifying, but she’s glad that she took the leap. They’ve conquered some big freaking mountains.

“I’ve emailed someone to see what I need to do to finish my degree.”

Emma almost jolts forward so that she can turn to look at him, but Killian doesn’t let her, holding onto her that slightest bit tighter so that she loses a little bit of her breath.

“When did you decide to do that?”

“A couple weeks ago.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Wasn’t sure if I was going to go through with it. I’m…I’m still not sure when exactly I’ll go back. The woman said they could arrange online classes for me, and they can help arrange a different schedule. I don’t know if I’d start during the off season and see how many credits I can finish before next season starts up. Or maybe I’ll go all year round even while playing. I could always wait until I’m retired, but I don’t exactly want to do that.”

Emma tries to take it all in and figure out the best way to respond to him. This is obviously something Killian has thought about a lot. There’s not a reason in the world for Killian to have to go back to school. He’s not going to be a physics teacher or professor any time soon, if at all, so this is obviously something he’s decided to do for himself just to have as an accomplishment.

Killian deserves to get to do things for himself.

“I think you’ll figure out exactly how you want to do it, babe. I’m really proud of you for doing that.”

“It’s nothing to be proud of.”

“Too bad.” She pats his hand again and shifts her head back so that she can kiss the underside of his jaw. “I’m proud of you. Unless this is some kind of long con to actually become professor Jones so that Will can’t say it mockingly anymore.”

He chuckles, and she kisses his jaw again. “Damn. You’ve foiled my plan.”

“I knew it,” she yawns, unable to cover her mouth with her hands. “You know, when I graduated from college, I got some kind of fancy ink pen that I never used. They gave them to all of the journalism majors. What do you think they’d give physics majors? Calculators?”

“No, because we’d already own a hell of a lot of those. I might need to get some new ones, though. And possibly find some old books and go through them. It’s been almost a decade. I’m not sure I even remember anything.”

“We can go back to school shopping for you. We’ll have to take a picture of you in your cute little outfit with your backpack on your shoulders. I’ll put it on the fridge and everything.”

“You realize I’m doing this online so I’ll just be wearing my regular clothes sitting on my ass in here. I may not even wear clothes while I’m doing it.”

“Well, I can still put that picture on the fridge, but we’ll have to take it down every time someone comes over. No one needs to see that much of you.”

Killian practically purrs in her ear as he trails hot kisses down the side of her neck, and it sends chills down her spine and up over her skin. “You certainly do. You could see it now if you want to.”

Emma brings her bottom lip between her teeth and tries to rein in any budding arousal. “As tempting as that sounds, you and I are both deliriously tired, and I really only came out here to get you to come back to bed…to sleep. We should go do that.”

Teeth bite down onto her neck. “Fine. That seems like the sensible thing to do, and as an almost college man, I have to be sensible, right?”

“Or binge drink and then study all night for a test at the last minute even though you had weeks to study for it?”

“Do people still do that?”

“I think so.”

“We’re really old, Swan.”

“Yeah,” she sighs as she stands from the bench and pulls Killian up with her, “but I think we’ve still got it.”

Emma easily falls back asleep, especially when Killian closes the curtains and turns on the box fan to drown out the sound of the storm outside, and while she doesn’t really know when Killian fell asleep, he’s slumbering away when she wakes up, his breath coming out in small puffs and his hair falling over his forehead. The weight of the world isn’t on his shoulders right now. He’s not thinking about what he’s got to do today or not do today, and Emma hopes that he sleeps as long as he can.

Hopefully right up until he needs to eat breakfast and go to practice.

But hopes are not always reality, and in reality, Killian wakes up a little past nine and all of the tenseness in his body returns. She can see it in the set of his shoulders and the way that he carries himself as he does some stretches to loosen his body up before making breakfast and getting on with his morning routine. She’s terrified, her stomach absolutely in knots, but she’s not going to tell him that. Emma is sure that he’s aware that she’s in this and wants this for both herself and for him, but she’s not going to tell him and put any extra pressure on them.

It’s more than just one man out there. It’s more than just Killian, but Emma understands how Killian works. If they win, he won’t take any credit for it. If they lose, it’ll be entirely his fault. She’s sure he’s talked himself into thinking otherwise, but his brain will revert back to that.

The storm in the night seems to have disappeared, the streets beginning to dry even if large puddles of rain water are left in dips in the cement, and according to all forecasts, it should be dry enough for them to play today. There are supposed to be light sprinkles, maybe a scattered storm or two, but it’s all sunshine when the game is scheduled to start. If there are any delays, Emma hopes that they aren’t long.

Killian may very well lose his mind.

(She may too.)

He’s currently showering, and while she hasn’t been keeping track of how long he’s been in there, it’s been long enough for her to curl her hair. She’s entirely sure that the humidity is going to cause it to frizz and fall flat, and the network will probably have her hair constantly attached to a curling iron and hair spray until her hair is like a bird’s nest of tangles and product.

Whatever it takes to look good on TV today, right?

She’s supposed to wear a dress or a skirt, something form flattering and attractive for television, but since there are no technical rules as long as she stays dressed, Emma completely ignores that suggestion in favor or her favorite jeans, a pair of trusty boots, and one of Killian’s jerseys, buttoning it up and tucking the front into her jeans. She’ll have to put on a sweater later to combat the cold, but she doesn’t want to do that just yet.

It’s ridiculous, but putting on the sweater means it’s time to go and she’s just…she’s not ready. They need a little more time.

“Are you wearing my jersey?”

Emma jumps and clutches her hand against the chain around her neck that’s visible with the way the jersey is buttoned up. She did not hear the shower turn off or hear Killian open the bathroom door. But considering he’s standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped low around his waist, he obviously did.

“Yeah?”

“What about – ”

Emma shrugs, a smile stretching across her lips. “Fuck them. I don’t give a damn about what anyone has to say. I can do my job while also dating you. It’s not a mutually exclusive thing, and today is a big day. If I want to wear the jersey, I can wear it now.”

Both of Killian’s brows rise high on his forehead, but he’s smiling too as his arms cross over his chest so that his muscles bulge the slightest bit. “I think this is the most attractive you’ve ever been.”

“Because I’m wearing your jersey? I thought we’d gone over that before. I – ”

“No,” he laughs with a shake of his head. “Because you’re saying fuck ‘em to all of the people who we both know will say shit about you wearing that. I personally think they should all pull the sticks out of their asses, but then what would they have to talk about?”

“Happy things?”

“Nah, that’s too boring for them.” Killian walks toward her, a definite swagger in his stride, and the cool tips of his fingers come up to touch her cheeks as he cups her face and brings his lips down to move over hers, slowly and thoroughly kissing her until she can’t breathe. It’s the good kind of breathless, though. “I don’t know if I’m going to kick ass today, but I know that you are. It’s pretty much undeniable.”

“You’re going to kick ass. Think it into existence, twenty-nine.”

“Yeah, but I don’t…I don’t know. I – ”

Emma sighs, and she swears it goes all the way down to her bones. There’s only so much she can say. At the end of the day, Killian has to be the one to believe in himself.

“You know,” she starts as her hand reaches up to her neck so that her fingertips ghost over the cool metal again, “about two months ago I had this really big thing happen to me, and I don’t think I’d ever been that nervous. Well, that was until my idiot boyfriend decided to play with an injured rotator cuff because he was too dumb to say something to anyone.”

Killian playfully rolls his eyes, but she sees his jaw tick. Still such a stubborn ass.

“Anyways,” Emma continues as she reaches up to unclasp the necklace, grabbing onto it and the ring before guiding her hand up to his where they’re still resting on her cheeks. Killian’s blue eyes widen so that she can see every color in them, and they get the slightest bit bluer when she places the ring in his palm and closes his fingers over it. “I was given this really beautiful, special ring so that I had a reminder that someone was cheering me on even when I couldn’t hear the cheers. You had this for a lot of years. I think you might need it back.

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down before he starts shaking his head from side to side, his eyes closed so that black lashes land against his cheeks.

“No, no, no. I’m just…no, Swan. I’m not taking it back.”

“It’s your mom’s ring.”

He opens his eyes then so that she’s consumed by the blue even as he steps away so that they’re no longer touching each other. Has she done something wrong?

“Aye, my love,” he mumbles even as he opens up the chain and wraps it around her, easily clasping it back so that it hangs around her neck once more. “It was my mom’s, but I gave it to you. I’m not taking it back. It’s yours now.” Killian smiles at her, the soft one that makes his eyes crinkle that she’s come to know as her own, before bringing his closed fist to his chest and tapping right over his heart. “I know right here that people are cheering for me. I know that my mom, my family – I know that you are cheering for me no matter what happens out there today.”

Emma’s not crying. She swears that she’s not crying and that the tears in her eyes are allergies or something, but that would be a lie. It would because she loves him a ridiculous amount, and she’s proud of him over everything that he’s done and been working toward lately.

He’s a good man with a good heart, and he deserves all of the world.

Stepping forward, Emma reaches up to tuck his wet hair behind his ear as her thumb traches over the apple of his cheekbone. “I love you, and I don’t care what Liam or Elsa or Addy says. I’m your biggest fan in that stadium today, and I promise I’ll be cheering you on no matter what happens. Tonight, win or lose, you and I are celebrating, okay? We’re going to sit in our pajamas stuffing our face with all of the food that you’ve been stress baking, and we’re going to drink copious amounts of alcohol.”

He arches his brow. “This sounds unhealthy.”

“You’ll have either won or lost the freaking World Series. I think we deserve a little unhealthy.”

“I think you might be right,” Killian chuckles, dipping his head down to slant his lips over hers. “I love you too, by the way. I’m probably going to tell you that a lot today.”

“You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

“I don’t believe that at all.” He winks, and Emma swears that her heart flutters. “I’m going to get dressed, and then we can go to the stadium, okay? I want to get my practice in early in case it does rain again.”

“Yeah, sounds perfect.”

-/-

The stadium is nothing like it was yesterday morning. There’s no empty field that’s covered in morning dew with a quiet air around it that allows someone to simply sit out there and think about the history of this place that’s happened before and the history that’s still to come both for the team and for each individual player and for those who love them. People are bustling everywhere. Vendors are already in their stalls, executives are walking up and down the hallways in their suits, heels clacking along the tile, and players are seemingly everywhere. Emma wasn’t quite expecting anyone to be in the clubhouse, maybe just a few people, but they’re all watching old tapes, eating food, stretching, and bouncing strategy back and forth.

It’s like being thrown into chaos with no hope of getting out, but Emma manages to when Ariel pops up out of nowhere with a bright smile on her face that only broadens the moment she sees Emma.

“Perfect.” Ariel claps together her hands. “Just the couple I was looking for.”

Emma points to herself. “Us?”

“Yep. Things are about to get really crazy today, and I need the two of you to pose for a picture before we forget. It’s just perfect that you’re wearing his jersey.”

“Why do you need a – ”

“Just go with it, Swan,” Killian laughs as he wraps his arm around her waist and tugs her closer so that Emma can rest her hand on Killian’s chest. “When it comes to A, it’s best to obey.”

“That sounds like a great motto.”

“Kind of like a cult, though.”

“Just a little bit.”

“Shut up,” Ariel groans as she lifts her phone in the air. “And smile, I mean. Don’t look like I’m forcing you to do this.”

“But you – ”

Emma doesn’t get to finish her sentence before Killian is squeezing her hip and making her squeal as he brushes his lips against her cheek so that his scruff scratches at her skin like the asshole that he is.

But at least he’s an asshole in a good mood.

“Perfect,” Ariel sighs. “Now, Emma, I need you to come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s about to get even crazier in here, and I’m saving you from the madness.”

Emma doesn’t even get a chance to tell Killian goodbye or good luck before Ariel is dragging her by her forearm out of the clubhouse and down the hallways of the stadium going on and on about everything that’s going to happen today like Emma doesn’t already know. Of course, there are several things that Emma didn’t know. Apparently, her plan for she and Killian to go home and eat junk food and get drunk isn’t really going to happen. He’s got press obligations that far exceed anything that she does, and then there’s usually some kind of team celebration that they all do together. It could be moved to the next day, but that’s usually reserved as an off day before the city does a parade and other celebrations and…

This is only if they win.

Emma points that out, and Ariel immediately corrects her and says “when.” She’s convinced that they’re going to win, and she will not take any other kind of thinking around her. Positive vibes only.

Emma and Killian are totally going home and eating junk food and possibly getting drunk before falling in bed. To sleep. Everything else can wait. And if it can’t, fine. They’ll deal with that and do all of the celebrations and be happy about it because it’s a really big deal, but at some point in the next week, they’re both locking the door, turning off their phones, and then not letting anyone or anything bother them.

Unless it’s the food delivery guy. He can bother them.

But that’s it.

She’s gained approximately ten new wrinkles on her face in the past two weeks, none of them coming from being a year older, and Emma very much needs the season to be over for her own sanity.

Without a doubt, she’ll start to miss baseball in no less than two weeks.

Ariel Fisher, however, lives and breathes baseball and managing baseball players and quite possibly being the most supportive woman on the planet – and that includes Mary Margaret Nolan and her continual positivity – and even if the Yankees sucked, she would somehow cause them to win by her willpower alone.

Emma has known her in a personal capacity for over half a year now, and she’s still not used to all of the never-ending energy. Ariel probably had a full night’s sleep last night. Or maybe she didn’t sleep at all, and she’s in that stage of sleep deprivation where everything is heightened and you’re hyperactive.

Emma would bet on the latter of the two.

But Ariel does eventually finish talking once they’ve made it far away from offices and weight rooms and restaurants up to the suites that Emma is so familiar with now. She’s also familiar with all of the people waiting inside. Killian’s family doesn’t joke around when it comes to baseball. There is no reason for them to be here this early, and yet here they are.

And suddenly Ariel has disappeared, probably off to talk someone else’s ears off.

“That isn’t rain.”

“That most definitely is rain.”

“Anna,” Kris sighs as he and Anna stand at the windows looking out to the field, “that’s rain. It’s this thing that happens when – ”

“I don’t need a science lesson. I need it to stop.”

“I’m pretty sure the entire team is doing some kind of rain prevention dance downstairs because I think we all need it to stop.”

Everyone turns to look at her like they didn’t hear she and Ariel come in.

“Emma,” Lucy shouts, scrambling up from the couch to run toward her and tackle Emma in a hug that’s quickly joined by Addy.

“Hey, girls. Are you guys excited?”

“I’m bored,” Addy sighs out, which is not at all what Emma was expecting.

“Bored? How can you be bored?”

“Because I want the game to start! It’s taking too long, and we’ve been in here forever.”

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” Liam tells Emma as he walks over to her and scoops up his daughter while bending to kiss Emma on the cheek. “But we’ve been very impatient with waiting even though whining isn’t going to speed up the game time.”

“So it’s been a fun morning in your house then?” Emma asks.

Liam rolls his eyes, and even though he and Killian don’t look too much alike, she can see the resemblance there. “Joyous. And from my chat with Killian this morning, I can tell it was about the same at yours with the sleepless night.”

“Well, it is a big day today.”

“Just look up the weather forecast, Anna,” Elsa groans as she moves to rest her head against the countertop. “It’s supposed to rain in the middle of the game. We have known that the entire time, but the sun is literally coming out. It will be dry enough to start play on time.”

Emma arches her brow. “Was Elsa the one not sleeping?”

“Yeah,” Liam mumbles as he adjusts Lucy on his hip, “yeah, she was. She and Addy sat in the living room all night because they couldn’t sleep. I expect them to crash soon.”

“I’m fine,” Elsa promises even as she takes a sip of coffee out of the largest mug Emma has ever seen. “I’m exhausted, but I’m fine. Where in the world did Ariel go?”

“I have no idea. She was here and then she wasn’t. I’m not even sure why she pulled me away from the clubhouse. It’s all been a bit of a blur.”

“Her nickname could be The Blur or something ridiculous like that. She’s always zooming in and out of rooms.”

“How’s Killian?” Anna asks as she steps away from the windows. “Is he freaking out? Has he tried to run away yet?”

Emma’s hand reaches up to toy with her necklace, moving the ring from side to side and choosing not to worry about the weather any more than she already has. “He’s fine. He’s freaking out, but he’s fine. All he needs is for the game to start so he can stop psyching himself out.”

“I want the game to start too,” Addy whines once more as she falls out on the couch and throws her arm over her eyes.

“Darling,” Liam laughs, “have we ever considered that we made her too big of a fan?”

Elsa shrugs. “I don’t think we ever even had a choice.”

Emma stays up in the suite talking and eating cheeseburger sliders and drinking hot chocolate for the next hour, and it’s enough distraction that she doesn’t really think about what’s going on and the nerves radiating deep from her stomach and out to every inch of her. That only really begins when she has to officially start working, leaving the suite to walk to the ESPN booth and get her microphone hooked up to her and prepped for the start of the game. They have her hair curled again, just like she thought, and Isaac and James most definitely eye the jersey she has on. Emma ignores them, even if she does put on her sweater and take the raincoat the network offers her, and leaves the booth to go find the spot they have saved for her behind home plate.

People are filling the stands, a hushed murmur covering the stadium as the sun continues to peek through dark clouds, and Emma’s eyes are stuck on Killian as he continues the last of his pre-game warm-ups.

This exact day last year was one of the craziest days of her life, and she doesn’t think any of it could compare to this.

“You look like you’re going to vomit,” Jeff murmurs as he sets up the protective cover over his camera.

“I kind of feel like I am. Don’t date someone on the team. It’s too much.”

“I think I’m safe in that department.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he laughs, and Emma doesn’t miss the rare smile on Jeff’s face. “You ready to go?”

Emma adjusts her earpiece. “Yeah, I’m ready to go.”

-/-

The Dodgers score on Killian’s first pitch.

A home run right off the bat – literally – and Emma feels the collective groan around the stadium in her bones. That is not what was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a strike, then two more, and an out. Easy as pie, right?

(Killian would tell her pie isn’t actually easy.)

But that’s obviously not how things are going to go today.

Sports have really got to be a little less dramatic. Her nerves can’t take it. Can’t things just be simple? Can’t they have gone back to the beginning and have won in four straight games instead of losing enough so that they’re in game seven of the World Series?

“If” doesn’t exist, especially in sport, Emma reminds herself. That’s what Killian would tell her, and that’s what she has to remind herself.

It only works a little bit.

One pitch at a time. It’s how Killian is going to be out there, and it’s how Emma is going to be sitting in the stands talking back and forth with the guys up in the booth thinking the same thing. It’s kind of hard to think that, though, when there’s a continual string of near hits and misses and Isaac and James up in the booth won’t stop being so damn negative that it makes Emma want to scream.

The score is 1-0 in the top of the third inning. It’s not the end of the world.

The looming dark sky overhead is kind of making her think that way.

“I’m too nervous, Rubes,” she mumbles while Killian winds up his arm to throw a pitch. There’s two men on base, both due to errors from King. She’d feel petty and a little glad if she didn’t need him to play well for the team. “Tell me about wedding stuff. Distract me.”

There’s static in her earpiece before Ruby’s voice comes in. “We’re getting married on a beach with no clothes on. Don’t worry. We can get waxed on the bachelorette weekend, so we’ll all be as smooth as babies.”

Emma huffs. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m hysterical,” Ruby corrects, and a part of Emma knows that Ruby and Graham might legitimately get married like that. “We haven’t planned any more than what we talked about last week. Small, intimate, and then a killer party with good food and drinks. Finding a location is hard. Everything is so expensive.”

“Destination wedding?”

“How is that cheaper?”

“I’m sure you can find a really inexpensive place in Nebraska or something.”

“You can get married in Central Park for one hundred dollars,” Jeff adds in, and Emma snaps her head away from the game to look at him. He shrugs his shoulders. “What? I know things.”

“I think the one hundred dollars is only if you want to get married in a certain spot, though,” Ruby sighs. “We’re going to keep looking. Graham said that he’d ask some of his buddies at the precinct if they knew of any spaces. It doesn’t have to be pretty since I know Mary Margaret will work her magic to make it that way no matter what.”

Killian’s pitch lands right in Will’s glove, and the umpire calls the batter out. Thank goodness. She doesn’t know what she’d do if someone else got on base. Then they’d be loaded with no outs, and things would pretty much be screwed from here on out.

Emma reaches over into her bucket of popcorn (she bought the jumbo size because she is stress eating) and stuffs a handful into her mouth instead of eating one or two at a time. One piece falls out of her mouth and down her shirt, landing somewhere in her bra so that she has to pick it out.

“You’re on the jumbotron right now, Emma,” Ruby giggles.

“Ah, fuck,” Emma mumbles as she looks up to see there be a replay of her digging in her shirt. “I hate everything.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“Me eating is like a running joke this season. I don’t get it.”

And she doesn’t really have time to get it before there’s the thwack of a ball against a bat straight past first base and away from everyone.

Shit.

It’s not good. Not at all. The two runners already on base get home, and the batter manages to make it to second.

It’s 3-0, and this is not at all how today was supposed to go.

Emma’s lungs are doing that thing again where they’re not taking in air, and there’s not enough popcorn in the world to make any of this better. If the tick in Killian’s jaw is any indication, she knows that there’s no one in the world more pissed at what’s happening than him. They don’t have anything together, and if they don’t get it together soon, they’re going to run out of time.

And then the sky opens up, little droplets of rain falling and landing on Emma’s nose, and that saying “when it rains, it pours” seems oddly appropriate right now. Her sadistic sense of humor is about to get worse.

They can’t lose. They can’t. she won’t allow it.

The rain keeps falling, a steady downpour of water, but it’s not enough to call for the rain delay. Not yet. And Killian is able to strike out the next guy and then get the third out of the inning with Eric catching the hit.

And just like the rain, the play stays steady. It’s not spectacular baseball by any means, mostly just a sludge match as everyone tries to keep their hands dry and the water out of their eyes, and the score slowly improves. Lance hits a good ball to get two RBIs, making it 3-2, and they manage not to allow any runs in the top of the fourth inning.

Good.

They’re creating chances. That’s what matters. They’re creating chances, and Emma can continue to eat her soggy popcorn while she freaks the hell out about what’s happening and continues to try to act like she’s a professional and not overly invested in the outcome of this game like she’s got money on it.

It’s the bottom of the fourth inning now, a chant of August’s name moving across the stadium so that it shakes in anticipation, and the bases are loaded. There are also two outs. Emma’s not saying that this could be the thing that changes the momentum of the game, but if the way that she’s gripping onto Jeff’s arm is any indication, she knows that this could change the momentum of the entire World Series.

“Come on, Booth,” Emma yells out as her free hand hits against her thigh, the wet denim clinging to her skin. “Be smart. Watch the ball.”

August obviously doesn’t know how to follow instructions because then it’s a swing and a miss.

Strike one.

There’s no chance for a strike two because while the rain has been sprinkling for the past hour, it’s pouring now. Jeff is mumbling about his camera and the cover not doing enough, but all Emma can focus on is all of the players running inside to the dugouts and fans shuffling inside while an announcement comes over the speakers that there’s an official rain delay.

An hour ago, she would have welcomed it. They didn’t have any of the momentum then. They do now.

This isn’t how things are supposed to be going.

Fuck.

-/-

“So how long is the rain delay going to be?”

“I don’t know.”

“But can you find out?”

“I can’t control the weather, Emma.”

“But you know things that we don’t, David,” Emma groans as she paces back and forth in a tunnel in the stadium, her hair frizzing around her face and her jeans completely soaked through. “It’s been an hour. Are they going to call the game? Are they going to continue it? This is agony.”

“You need to calm down.” Emma looks over to David with raised brows, and he holds his hands up in the air. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to say that to you, but you’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep worrying like this.”

Everyone they know is going to give themselves a heart attack, apparently.

“I know, I know,” she sighs, reaching up to hold onto her necklace and quieting down as some people pass by the two of them, probably looking at her like she’s a crazy person. “I’m nervous. This is really hard. I just…I want to be allowed into the clubhouse so that I can see him. He’s going to be freaking out. I just know, and I – ”

David walks toward her and places his hands on her shoulders while he looks down at her with a soft, reassuring smile on his face. She’s sure that he would hug her right now if she wasn’t soaking wet.

“Killian is fine, sweetheart. You are fine. We’re in the fourth inning. There’s still five more to go, whether it’s finished today or tomorrow or a week from now. They have time to come back. You, however, need to be back in hair and makeup because you’re supposed to be doing a clip on SportsCenter in fifteen minutes to fill the dead air time.”

“Shit. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I couldn’t get a word in. You were kind of having a meltdown.”

Emma practically has to run down the hallways, which doesn’t help her appearance at all, and she’s sure that here makeup is streaky and her hair a wild mess that can’t be tamed, and the entire world can probably see her bra underneath her jersey right now. There’s not a hell of a lot that the makeup department can do, especially without a change of clothes besides a dry raincoat to replace the one that got soaked through, but they try their best before she’s standing in front of a plain backdrop inside the stadium talking back and forth about what’s going on in the game, breaking it down inning by inning in a way that she hasn’t had to do quite some time.

Considering she does it all with last minute notice and no notes in front of her, she thinks that she does a damn good job.

None of that really matters, though, because right as they’re wrapping up the segment, they get the announcement that play will resume in the next twenty minutes.

It’s time to play some more baseball.

Emma shouldn’t have eaten all of that popcorn because her stomach is most definitely churning with nerves.

They can do this. They have to. They will.

-/-

August immediately gets struck out, and the fourth inning ends with the Yankees still down 3-2.

The next two innings are scoreless for both teams, and Killian wraps up his game after that. He played well. It wasn’t his best, the weather and the nerves probably impacting him, but she’s proud of him.

She’ll be proud of him no matter what.

And she really wishes that the network wanted her to do a mid-game interview or let her go into the dugout just so that she could see him and tell him that in person, but they seem to be determined to only allow her to stay on the sidelines by herself.

Emma: I love you, I love you, I love you.

Emma: You’re my favorite player (and person) no matter what, and I can’t wait to see you when this game is over and you’re holding that trophy.

He texts back almost immediately, and he must have his phone out on the massage table.

Killian: Will you go out with me if we win? Or if we lose?

Laughter bubbles up inside of her, and it’s the first time all afternoon that she’s felt this light.

Emma: Only if you ask me out on live television like the asshole you were when you did that last year.

Killian: I think I can do that.

Her stomach flutters again, and even though this is kind of the biggest game that Emma has ever watched in her entire life, her eyes keep switching between her phone and the game. It’s pretty much the only way that she can stay calm and keep getting air into her lungs without one of them collapsing and her having to go to the hospital.

This game is going on forever. Literally. Each inning is longer than the last, and the sun is beginning to set over the horizon so that the remaining gray clouds disappear into the dark of night. Florescent lights fill the stadium, lighting up the crowd and the players, and Emma can’t stop shivering, especially with the remaining dampness of her clothes and the chill that’s whirling around. It’s got to be forty degrees out here at the most, and if it weren’t for Mary Margaret brining down her coat for Emma to use, she’d turn into an icicle by the end of the game.

Probably before the end of the game.

Today is obviously going very well.

It’s not just Emma, though. The crowd is starting to get a little delusional now too. The game has been going on for over six hours now, the last three completely scoreless, and everyone is getting restless and antsy and probably very, very drunk.

Some rum or whiskey or several shots of tequila is sounding really good right now.

She can’t have any of it.

And she’s moved on from popcorn to copious amounts of hot chocolate to keep her warm.

It’s now the bottom of the ninth in what could possibly be the last inning of the game and the end of the season, and they’re still down by one run. It’s almost exactly what happened last night, and Emma’s dentist is going to hate her for how much she’s grinding her teeth.

Just one run to tie it up. One more to win the whole damn thing.

Easy, right? Right.

“Fuck,” Emma mutters underneath her breath, unable to keep the thoughts inside. This cannot end up like last night. They’re so damn close. They can do this.

Eric settles into his position in the batter’s box, his hands moving up and down his bat until they’re in the right spots, and Emma would probably give up her entire salary to know just what Ariel is doing right now up in the suite. She’s got to be losing her mind.

Emma is kind of losing hers.

One. Two. Three.

The ball flies off of Eric’s bat, straight down past third base so that it practically paints the line, and Eric is off like a cheetah, quickly passing over first base and turning so quickly that he nearly falls on his way to second base. Emma stands, unable to stay sitting down, and she can’t even hear herself yell over the roar of the crowd as Eric slides against the dirt to mark up his uniform and have his fingers touch second base right before the ball gets to him.

Safe.

Holy shit. They have a man on base.

And August is up next. God, she hopes that he doesn’t choke again. There’s been a hell of a lot of pressure on his shoulders in the past two days, and he’s crumbled underneath it after having some really big opportunities to close things out. As good as these guys are at playing in the moment, the past does have the ability to creep up around them and wrap around their neck to pull them back to the past so that they can’t move on.

August has to move on.

One. Two. Three.

Strike.

Shit.

One. Two. Three.

Ball.

Okay.

One. Two. Three.

Strike.

Fuck.

Emma cannot do this. She absolutely can’t. It’s too much. It’s all too much, and she has to bend down to put her head between her legs. She knows that her phone is going off, that she’s got texts and calls and emails, but she can’t look at any of them. If it’s something for work, Ruby will speak into her earpiece or Jeff will say something.

This is the worst. Who likes sports? This is just the worst.

One. Two. Three.

The ball thwacks against August’s bat, and it flies toward left field. Emma is positive that it’s going to go over, absolutely positive that it’s going to be a home run and that they’re about to win this game. But then it hits against the wall, and suddenly it’s back in play. It’s not a home run, not quite, but it’s enough to have Eric round third and run toward home, his body barreling as quickly as possible before he’s sliding through the dirt once more so that it flies up around him.

Safe.

3-3.

Holy fucking shit.

Emma can’t hear. She can’t. The crowd is that deafening, and while Emma isn’t jumping up and down, her knuckles are going white as they grip onto the sides of her seat. All she can focus on is the way that Eric runs straight into Killian just outside the dugout, the two of them jumping up and down and hitting each other’s backs and asses as every other member of the team surrounds them in a celebration that sends chills down her spine.

Her cheeks are warm for the first time all night, and Emma has to force down the emotion in her throat.

It’s not over.

But that’s a good thing. They have the chance to do this, to win this now, and Emma’s heart is pumping blood faster than it ever has in the entirety of her life. It may very well beat out of her chest.

She doesn’t even care.

The high comes down five minutes later when King is easily struck out, putting their first out of the inning on the board, and even Emma isn’t petty enough to want Arthur King to do poorly when him doing well is good for the team. She’s petty. Just not petty enough.

Will Scarlet, though, deserves the entire world, and all of the organs in Emma’s stomach shift again when he steps into the box and adjusts his helmet. Sprinkles of rain are falling down from the clouds and spitting against Emma’s skin, but it’s not enough to stop the game. Not yet. The momentum is with them again, the game and the championship on their bats, and Emma has never known Will to be scared of a little rain.

One. Two. Three.

A swing and a miss.

Strike One.

One. Two. Three.

No movement. Deep breath inhaled.

Ball.

One. Two. Three.

No movement.

Strike Two.

“Damn,” Emma mumbles under her breath as she tightens the jacket a little further over her arms, her legs shaking and tapping enough to power the electricity in all of the Bronx. She’s going to break the chain around her neck for how tightly she’s tugging on it. It’s fine. It’s all fine.

It’s got to be all fine.

The water is spitting a little harder now, Emma’s vision getting a little bit blurred, and it’s taking everything in her not to stand up right now so that she blocks the people behind her. Ruby is chattering in her ear cursing or hoping or something, her phone is still going off, and Jeff has to be complaining about how much Emma is crushing his forearm.

She doesn’t care.

Because Will is standing in position again, and he’s ready.

One. Two. Three.

There’s a sharp blow when the ball makes contact with the bat, and while the rain and the stadium lights make it hard to see, Emma already knows that the ball is going over the back wall and into the crowd.

Gone. It’s gone.

It’s freaking gone.

Will Scarlet is an absolute legend.

The Yankees just won the World Series.

Killian just won the World Series.

Everything is so loud around her, cheers reverberating and shaking the stands so that Emma can literally feel sounds, but she has trouble focusing on any of that over the sound of her heart pounding in between her ears and Ruby yelling in her earpiece that Emma has to get down to the field.

The field.

She has to get down to the field, and somehow, she does. Jeff must have carried her there or pushed her or something. It’s a madhouse, one Emma can’t navigate, and she knows that she’s supposed to be doing some kind of interview, preferably with Will, but there’s no way for her to find anyone. It’s a mass of players all huddled together and jumping up and down as coaches and wives and children all join in, the rain coming down even harder than earlier.

All Emma really wants is to find Killian and kiss him like she’s never kissed him before.

That’s saying something.

Emma sees him standing ten feet away from her on the outskirts of a pile of men embracing each other in happiness, his hair a mess like he’s been running his hands through it for the past two hours and his smile so large that it reaches his ears. He looks beautiful, ethereal almost, and Emma can scarcely breathe looking at him after pushing through so many people to find him.

That’s when he sees her through the people and the rain and the unending joy.

Killian pulls his arm up to tap his closed fist over his heart, and Emma’s heart stutters at the movement before a slow grin stretches across her lips while she reaches up to tap her fist over the ring and her heart.

She was cheering him on the entire time.

One. Two. Three.

Emma takes off toward him, ignoring Ruby in her ear and Jeff behind her with the camera, and in six strides, she’s pressing up onto her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, holding onto him so tightly that her feet come off the ground and Killian’s hands scramble for her ass, barely holding onto her as he lifts her in the air and swings her back and forth as they both get covered in the continual downpour of rain.

She can hardly see, the water far too much, and when she cups Killian’s cheeks and slams her mouth into his, he tastes like water and spearmint gum and quite possibly all of the happiness in the world bottled up into one human being.

Kissing him and being here with him is everything she ever wanted and everything she never allowed herself to dream.

“Fancy seeing you here, Swan,” Killian laughs, his mouth still pressing against hers.

“What are you talking about, Jones? I was right here last year.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, the grin the most infectious thing she has ever seen, “but I think I like this year a hell of a lot better.”

“Can’t wait to see how you try to top this next year.”

Killian throws his head back in in laughter, his skin covered in rain, and he finally puts her down on the ground so that her feet sink into the soft grass below her, arms still wrapped around Killian’s neck so that she’s close enough to see the sparkle in his eyes and the smile on his lips.

“You know what, my love? I think I’m good staying right here in this moment for now. We can figure out the rest later.”

-/-

Tag list: @dorisquinn @onepunintendid @authorarsinoe @stunningswan @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @superchocovian @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @carpedzem @tornadoamy @397bartonstreet

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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jaeknightorbats · 5 years ago

Text

Tunnel Caprica [M]

Pairings: Baekhyun x Sehun (SeBaek)

Ratings: NC-17

Genre/AUs: Smut, dark romance, slice of life

Description: It was a normal day for convenience store worker Byun Baekhyun when Sehun—a wealthy looking man—entered the store, only getting overdosed by drugs afterwards. It was the encounter that would change Baekhyun’s life. It was the encounter that introduced him to a world that should never exist in this already problematic world.

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, substance use, drug overdose, alcohol, and strong language

Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (NEW!)

Synopsis: Tunnel Caprica connects two cities under the huge and long mountain ranges of the country Ioca [a-yo-ka], making it one of the longest tunnels in the world with a distance of nearly 40 kilometers. However, people choose to drive the 3-hour long pass than driving through the tunnel, because driving through the tunnel can be claustrophobic—an hour drive with nothing but repeating images of the never ending tunnel. But through the tunnel also hides the entrance to another world that Baekhyun is yet to find out.

Part 1

Word count: 3.9k

Just a single response—a single response that could make everything better.

Or could make matters worse.

It had not been long since his girlfriend replied—five hours outmost. But five hours felt like a day to him. Getting used to quick replies, it’s making him crazy as to why he wasn’t getting any response even after sending her messages and giving her calls.

She’s mad.

He couldn’t help but think, and it’s making him weak. He doesn’t like anyone getting mad at him, especially if it was her.

Ple—

He stopped typing. He shouldn’t bother her, she’s at work. He shouldn’t annoy her. She must be annoyed. He wasn’t at work—it was his rest day, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his phone. Nothing worse than that—overthinking.

He dug his face on to his phone, praying to the gods to make a miracle for him.

He waited, and he waited. Still got no response.

Maybe staring at the screen would make a difference. He stared at every icon he could see, scrolled from side to side.

Why am I lying to myself?

Nearly 30, he was, but he could be still naïve at times. He was a high school dropout with divorced parents.

What divorce? They have no money for such things, his parents only lived separately, and things were too confusing for him. He ran away from his home at the age of 17, and started to find ways he could live on his own. Things never worked out for him, still broke at the age of twenty-nine. He’s renting a small, cheap apartment, and he had a third-hand car that needed constant maintenance. He worked at a convenience store near where he was staying, only a 15 to 20-minute walk.

Byun Baekhyun considered himself as a good-for-nothing, and was only working to survive. The only thing that was making him somewhat happy was his girlfriend’s affection. Now, the person giving what he wanted was mad at him.

He took a deep, hopeless breath as he dropped his head down to his table from where he was sitting. At the brink of losing hope, his heart jumped when his forehead felt the vibration of the table coming from his phone.

He didn’t check from who it was, and immediately clicked the notification and read the message.

Disappointed, he was, when the text message was from his carrier, reminding him that his phone bill’s due was approaching.

This girl, now this. His grip to his phone loosen, feeling weak—he could hear his heart beating. He felt like he was losing his mind.

A picture of his wallet flashed through his head, remembering exactly how much money he still had before his next pay. $43.05.

His phone bill usually cost $45.

He didn’t want to double check his wallet, it was too heartbreaking for him. He recently spent most of his money buying his girlfriend a nice dinner and a new phone—a phone she didn’t like that’s why they’re in a fight. She wanted an iPhone. He couldn’t afford such phone. He himself was sticking to his 3-year-old phone. As long as he could send his girlfriend a message, he was fine with any phone.

He pressed his eyes closed, thinking what should he do to pay his dues and to make his girl happy. His feet couldn’t stop tapping—he couldn’t think of a solution.

“Money can’t buy happiness?” he muttered to himself. “Bullshit.”

He stood up from his chair, threw his phone to the sofa just to release some stress—even a tiny bit. He needed a break.

He started walking circles in his small place, thinking of different things how to earn enough money to, at least, pay the bills.

Baekhyun never turned his head so fast when he saw his phone screen flashed from his peripheral view, hearing the vibration from the sofa. His feet dragged him fast towards the sofa and his hand grabbed the phone.

Disappointed again, it was from his friend, Park Chanyeol.

Im coming 2 ur place.

Baekhyun felt so pissed. He was hoping it was from someone better—his girlfriend. “I don’t need you to come,” he muttered to his phone.

Subsequently, a rapid knuckle impatiently knocked on Baekhyun’s door. It paused for a quick while, then started knocking again.

Baekhyun already knew who it was. He stomped his way to the door to stop the noise.

The grin on Chanyeol’s face faded, cocking his brow after he saw Baekhyun. “What’s with the face?” He made his way into Baekhyun’s place without permission and went straight to Baekhyun’s living room.

Baekhyun followed Chanyeol with a glare as he closed the door. “What are you doing here?”

What a stupid question—Baekhyun realized immediately. Chanyeol only visited Baekhyun for one thing, and one thing only—sniff drugs.

“I’m telling you, bro. You should break up with Yuri. She’s just using you,” Chanyeol said as he was pulling out his cheap snuff set from his jacket, placing it on the glass coffee table afterwards.

Chanyeol already knew what was bothering his friend, especially when Baekhyun made a face like what he was wearing. Nothing else bothered Baekhyun but women. Sometimes, Chanyeol knew Baekhyun doesn’t know how to straighten his priorities just for the sake of a woman.

But Baekhyun doesn’t like anyone minding his own business, so Chanyeol only watched him be stupid.

Baekhyun ignored him, and changed the topic. “Hey, when are you going to take home your shot. It’s taking a lot of space on my fridge.” He only had a mini fridge, it could only fit a few drinks and few foods.

“For as long as I don’t need it,” Chanyeol blatantly replied. “I don’t want my mom seeing that, she’ll start asking questions.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You already said that.”

Chanyeol still lived with his parents since he spent a lot of his money on the things he liked to snort.

Baekhyun pulled a chair on the dining table, and watched his friend do his thing.

Chanyeol carefully released a portion of his powered drug from a tiny airless balloon on Baekhyun’s table. Chanyeol pulled his wallet out and took a card to collect the scattered powder on the table and made a thin line with it. He licked the remaining powder that was on his card. Then, took his already-rolled-up bill from his kit. His nose made a loud noise as he snorted the powder. He twitched both sides of his nose and sniffed again, just to make sure his brain received that well. His eyes slightly became watery from the mild burning sensation that went through his nose. He cleaned the white dust excess on the table with his finger and brushed his gums with it—every bit counted.

Chanyeol sighed, satisfied, as he rested his head on the sofa.

“What was that?” Baekhyun asked.

“Heroin.”

Baekhyun was still a traditional man. Drugs never interest Baekhyun. He’s tried a pot, but it was never for him. He’s seen people around him done it, and he didn’t like what it did to them. Besides, these substances cost too much.

“By the way,” Chanyeol lifted his head up and pointed at Baekhyun, “I told boss you’re gonna take my shift tonight.”

Chanyeol also worked at the same convenience store, that’s where they met each other.

Baekhyun reacted, “What?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you. I have some business tonight.” Chanyeol winked mischievously—obviously planning something sketchy.

Baekhyun thought he’d have his rest day for himself.

Then, Baekhyun remembered his bills and his girlfriend.

Maybe he needed that shift.

“Breaking news: Kang Sunmi filed a divorce. The fifteen year old allegedly—“

Snapping fingers diverted Baekhyun’s attention from the television back to his manager who was in front of him. The manager pointed his pen to Baekhyun and said, “That news will stay for a while, customers don’t.”

Baekhyun nodded lazily.

It was past 3AM. He was on his second cup of coffee but he still felt drowsy, his eyes wanted to close itself. He’s not used to night shifts unlike Chanyeol, who could do any shift at any time of the day. Baekhyun still had an 11AM shift after his shift at 4AM. He’ll have less time for sleep, but a little more money for him. He needed every cent.

Less than an hour left.

There weren't many people at the store, so he was pissed off at his boss for being such an uptight motherfucker.

He couldn’t wait for his shift to end, he missed his bed. But he missed his girlfriend, Yuri, a lot more. She was still ignoring Baekhyun’s call and messages, making him miserable. He didn’t know how to make her notice him again.

I’ll pay her a visit after my shift. I’ll be there before breakfast, before she leaves for work. She’ll be surprised, see my effort and sincerity, he thought.

The idea washed away his sleepiness in a snap. He got excited to see Yuri’s face again. Baekhyun hoped she would forgive him and give him a kiss or hug.

His brain cells started to work actively, thinking of what things he should say.

How should I apologize?

Thinking of what he should do.

Should I text her first or knock straight away at her door?

Should I buy her a chocolate?

No, maybe hotcakes. She loves hotcakes.

He was alone with his thoughts, distracted by the challenges of love.

The bell on the top of the door rang when somebody pushed it open.

It woke Baekhyun up from his thoughts, his instinct greeted the customer who got in. “Good evening.” He, then, realized it was already early in the morning. He corrected himself, “Morning, sir.”

They were trained to greet anyone who came in the store.

Baekhyun watched the tall man take big steps as the man walked in, not even turning his head to Baekhyun’s direction. The tall man vanished from Baekhyun’s sight as he passed by the tall shelves.

Baekhyun had seen different types of people enter the store when he took night shifts on some occasions. There were people in pajamas buying food for breakfast, or maybe for their late night snack. Guards, drivers, and night shift employees buying coffee. Normal looking families who were on a trip buying snacks. Bunch of drunk teenagers wearing cropped tops and/or bomber jackets who came from a party buying cigarettes, or water for their friend who kept throwing up. People of any age wearing tacky clothes who were obviously on drugs—he could tell it from their teeth—buying lighters. Some people looked dangerous, he dared not to judge the things they buy, but they were usually alcohol and cigarettes. And, some men buy condoms.

But Baekhyun had never seen a person walk wearing sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses late at night?

What was also striking was the man was wearing an obviously expensive black coat. It was beautiful how vivid the color was; it was the blackest of the black he had ever seen. If the man came from a party, it must be a fancy one, might be a ball, or a fancy wedding of a multi-millionaire. Baekhyun thought the man was lost. The man should have asked his butler or driver to buy things for him.

A pair of heels started to echo his ears—it got louder as it got closer.

Of course, he has matching Italian shoes.

Even the most decent shoes don’t make a sharp sound like that.

Baekhyun turned his head to the man’s direction as the man got closer to the counter.

The man stopped in front of Baekhyun, still holding on to his items. He slightly lifted his head and scanned his eyes around the top shelves that were behind Baekhyun.

Baekhyun noticed the man was wearing a high-end brand of sunglasses. The way the light reflected on the black frame and on the black lenses, it was something else. His skin glowed as the light met his face, showing his healthy and almost poreless skin.

“Do you have anything besides Jack Daniels?” the man started to speak.

Baekhyun turned around and scanned the shelves himself. He knew the man was looking for something hard. “We have Johnnie Walker. Red, black, and double black.”

He rarely drank such expensive alcohol, but he enjoyed the scotch he recommended when he tasted it.

The man scoffed. “I’d take the bourbon.”

Baekhyun nodded and stretched his arm to reach the box of Jack Daniels.

The man placed his item on the counter. Baekhyun scanned the box, and the cotton balls that the man placed.

“Is that all?”

The man looked down at the front of the counter, turned his head from left to right, searching for something. He finally reached for something that caught his interest. He lightly threw the item on the counter

“That’d be all,” he said as he revealed a part of his side body under his coat, reaching his back pocket for his wallet.

“$27.14,” said Baekhyun after scanning the box of condoms—the ultra-thin one.

The man took another item in front of the counter the moment it caught his attention.

Baekhyun scanned a small bottle of lubricant. “$38.54”

The man initially took a hundred-dollar bill out from his wallet but he put it back. He extended his arm, slightly revealing a shiny silver watch under his sleeve, and gave three 20s instead.

The man looked at Baekhyun and said, “Keep the change.”

Baekhyun's eyes slightly widened, his lips curved upward. He couldn’t be happier, he needed every cent of money he could get.

It must be his lucky day.

“Thank you, sir!”

The man cocked both of his brows as a response while he put the smaller items inside his coat and carried the bourbon by the hand. Then, Baekhyun watched the man leave the store.

Baekhyun couldn’t stop grinning as he put the change on his wallet after he cashed in the payment.

“That was a nice watch,” he muttered to himself. It was like love at first sight when he saw the man’s watch. It was still at the back of his head.

Baekhyun looked at the store’s watch.

Ten minutes left before 4:00.

He started to fix his things at the staff room. Removed his tacky uniform under his white shirt, and wore a cozy jacket. He bid his goodbyes to his co-worker and manager and left the store at 4:05AM.

Cold wind blew on his face, making him shiver. He dug both of his hands on the pocket of his jacket, and started to walk across the almost empty parking lot.

He couldn’t spot a single person around. Few vehicles, yes. It was still early. The area of the city he’s in wasn’t exactly the busiest.

Baekhyun put a smile on his face. “I’m gonna buy hotcakes. I’m gonna see Yuri.” He felt excited. He tried to paint the look on Yuri’s face when she saw him at the front of her doors.

“We’re gonna have breakf—“

A long honk of a car distracted Baekhyun from walking. He turned his head where he heard the noise, but he couldn’t see anything—it was too dark, and the parking lot was too huge.

He turned around, checking if other people were around. But he was alone.

It was still honking, it wouldn’t stop. There was panic in Baekhyun’s eyes, his heart started to pound hard, he was nervous. Other parked cars seemed peaceful. His eyes searched everywhere, but he seriously couldn’t see anything. He started to walk hesitantly where the loud beep was coming from, he was unsure.

Silence.

Baekhyun’s ears rang and felt deaf after the vehicle stopped honking. But he was still worried. His feet wouldn’t move, his mind went blank, his ears still ringing.

Then, a tiny, orange light suddenly emerged from his sight from where he was walking to. The light was from inside a car. He could see tiny silhouettes in it.

He started to walk forward, but still hesitant. He turned his head from left to right to check if there were other people besides him. He was still alone.

The light got closer and closer as he walked nearer.

“HEELP!”

A loud screech of a woman alarmed Baekhyun, putting him to a stop.

“HEEELP!”

Baekhyun ran as fast as he could to the light, to the woman’s voice who cried for help. He saw the woman looking in his direction. Baekhyun was having a hard time to breathe because of the cold wind blowing against him, but he ran faster after he saw an unconscious man next to the woman.

Baekhyun panted heavily when he finally reached the vehicle. Him and the woman looked at one another with panic in their eyes.

“HELP!” The woman cried while she was shaking the man on his shoulders.

Baekhyun shifted his look to the man—it was the man who tipped him earlier. He was unconscious.

Baekhyun opened the door. “What happened?!”

The woman was in a state of panic, she didn’t know what to say. She was only worried for the man.

“Have you called 911?”

The woman blinked. “Are you fucking crazy?!”

Baekhyun looked around the vehicle. He saw a spoon, an elastic band, a syringe, a dust of power, and cotton balls. Baekhyun suddenly noticed the man had his sleeve rolled up.

“He fucking OD’ed?!” He concluded after he saw the things around them. The man got overdosed by some drug.

The woman didn’t know what to say. Her eyes were shaking—she was unsure if she should trust the man.

“You must call 911, or he’ll die!” exclaimed Baekhyun.

“No, no, no. Please don’t call them!” the woman begged.

Baekhyun knew if they called 911, they'd go to jail after he regained his consciousness because they were doing illegal drugs.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun cursed, he knew the woman won’t change her mind—he had met a lot of people on drugs, so, he somewhat understood. He removed his jacket, dropped both his bag and jacket on the concrete.

He stepped up to their high SUV and searched for the recliner lever of the man’s seat. But he couldn’t find it. “Where’s it?! How do you recline this fucking seat?!” Baekhyun yelled at the woman.

The woman jumped in panic, “Fuck.” She pulled something behind the seat of the man she was with to recline the seat.

Baekhyun lent his face to the man’s face to feel and listen if he was breathing. He wasn’t. “Fuck.”

“Don’t fucking die on me, Sehun,” the woman begged, pulling her hair. Her eyes began to tear up.

Baekhyun held the man’s face upward. He’s going to perform CPR.

He had his face close to the man, then the woman spoke. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Do you want him to fucking die?!”

Baekhyun exhaled all the air from his lungs and passed it to the man. He pumped his chest with both of his hands intertwined.

No response.

Baekhyun performed another around. He gave air, pumped the man’s chest.

Still, no response.

Baekhyun performed another, and another, and another round.

“Fucking shit. Don’t die on us, man.” He kept pumping his chest, sweat was breaking on his forehead despite the chilly climate.

The man wasn’t breathing.

Then, Baekhyun remembered his friend, Chanyeol. He remembered that he had Chanyeol’s adrenaline shot in his fridge.

“Fuck.”

Baekhyun carried the man on his shoulders and transferred him to the back of the car.

“What are you doing?!” The woman freaked out, confused. She followed them behind the car.

“Keep giving him CPR. I have something in my place that might help.”

Baekhyun went in front of the car, fixed the seat, and started driving. He drove as fast as he could to his place, he had the hazard lights on, he didn’t stop at any red light, he kept honking the car on every car that was on his way. Every second counted. The man could die at any moment.

They reached his place in 3 minutes.

Baekhyun carried the man on his shoulders and ran as fast as he could to his door steps.

Baekhyun’s eyes widened. His keys were in his bag.

He left his bag in the parking lot.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This isn’t happening,” he muttered to himself.

“What? What’s happening?!” The woman freaked out while she held the man’s face behind Baekhyun’s back, trying to wake the unconscious man.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun panicked. He didn’t want to let the woman know. She’d make him freak out more if she knew.

Baekhyun searched his pockets. He was starting to feel the weight of the man on his shoulders. Baekhyun gulped. Then, he felt the bulk in one of his pockets. It was his wallet. He remembered he had a spare key in his wallet.

He immediately took his wallet and searched for the key inside his wallet.

It was the biggest relief of his life when he felt the cold brass meet his finger. It was his key.

He opened the door, then carefully placed the man in his living room.

“Keep giving him CPR,” he ordered the woman as he ran as fast as he could to his mini fridge, and took a package on the top shelf.

He ran back to the man. His hands were shaking. He had read the instruction of how to use the shot countless times when he had nothing to do with his time and when he attempted to throw it away because it took a lot of space. Chanyeol had also told him how to use the shot once or twice just in case Chanyeol got overdosed himself. But Baekhyun still read it, just in case he read it wrong before.

But he was shaking, his head couldn’t think straight. There was an unconscious man in front of him.

“Fuck this shit.”

He’ll have to trust his memory.

He opened the package, and there was a tiny bottle that came with a huge syringe in it.

“Rip his shirt open,” Baekhyun commanded the woman as he tried to inject the 6-inch needle to the bottle with his shaky hands.

Baekhyun breathed heavily. He held his hand high over his head with the syringe, focused on the man’s chest. He had to inject the shot hard enough to get through his ribcage to his heart—to make his heart pump again with the adrenaline shot.

Baekhyun’s breath got heavier and heavier by the second.

Just a single response.

Baekhyun held his breath and stabbed the man with the needle.

A single response that could make everything better.

The man arose from his position, making a loud noise as he inhaled every air his lungs could get as he came back to life.

In a shaky voice, breathing rapidly, the man cursed, “Fuck.”

Or could make matters worse.

To be continued...

J/N: Send notes, reblog. Follow me on twitter @/jaeandbats for updates

Read next chapter

Tunnel Caprica: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (NEW!)

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kbandtrash · 4 years ago

Text

Who Are You? (Day6 Urban Fantasy AU)(Part 3)

~Megan~

Masterlist

Everything in Dowoon’s life seemed to be falling apart, so he thought he had nothing to lose. His mistake was falling for a demon.

Yoon Dowoon x Reader

Warnings: Family death

Word count: 1.5k

Part 1

Dowoon wasn't quite sure of what happened, but he found himself startled awake immediately after. Had it really been a dream? He drowsily rolled onto his stomach, engulfed in his bedsheets.

He looked to his night table, reaching lazily for his phone. It was plugged in, buzzing every once in a while, face down. Dowoon grabbed the object and watched the lock screen fill with the occasional notification.

His eyes were half-closed and sensitive, so he couldn't really read the screen. He sighed and replaced the phone back on the table. It couldn’t have been a dream, right? After all, he had never once fallen asleep, so perhaps that voice really had been an all-powerful being. And if it had been something of the sort, it would’ve been able to cause Dowoon to be disoriented, like he was.

Staring at the ceiling, he thought hard. He didn’t really want to believe any magic or unearthly powers had been involved. It was too unrealistic, and especially after his family died, it would be too weird to have happened to him. So maybe the whole day had been a dream, an illusion. But, then again, the dream was so vivid, and he had even attended classes. He recalled certain words on his English assessment, running into Jae, and Mina apologising. Sungjin had made ramen and helped Dowoon with homework; they had even cried together.

If Dowoon hadn’t done any of that, he might really go crazy.

Then, he remembered the note—would it still be there? He sat up quickly, any trace of tiredness gone and replaced with his rapidly beating heart. It had been on his bed before, hadn’t it? Still covered in his blankets, he began to search the covers for that unknown red paper. Finally he jumped out of the bed and straightened out the wrinkles, feeling under the sheets, wishing desperately to find the proof.

Nothing. It had been fake—all of it. Dowoon let out a helpless sigh and backed away from the bed in defeat. And there it was, out of nowhere: underneath his foot on the floor. Of course! It had fallen off in the night as he slept! He knelt excitedly, thoughtlessly hoping it really was it; and it was. The neatly folded, deep red notepaper, slightly crinkled and unbearably mysterious.

It hadn’t been a dream! Everything that occurred was real and genuine. Now, it was even tangible in his hands. He was actually holding a piece of paper that might be magical. Incredible—that’s what it was.

Now that he held it, he could open it, and that reality caused Dowoon’s quick heart to stop. His hands shook, and he wanted abruptly to drop the note, to make it disappear. The possibility to read whatever was written was horrifying. Magic wasn’t always a good thing, he knew, as he thought back to fairytales and myths.

He stood briskly, but only able to move toward his desk in slow-motion. His shaking hands set down the paper gingerly, and then sprung away. Dowoon snatched up his phone and held it tightly before trudging out of the room, attempting to calm the wild thumping in his chest.

“Let’s do this,” he whispered to himself. Looking down at his phone, he found a few texts from his class chatroom, asking him if he was okay. He texted back hesitantly, saying he was sorry that he had been so moody the day before. He had also received texts from Sungjin and Wonpil.

Music Peeps 🎵

Sungjin: You’re still coming today, right??

Wonpil: Have you been sick, Dowoonie?

Sungjin: He might not want to say

Wonpil: Awww I understand Dowoon :(

Dowoon smiled. Sungjin had always been so caring, and an amazing hyung to Dowoon and Wonpil. And of course he was grateful that they all treated each other like equals, always understanding. That bond was hard to get rid of, and Dowoon silently thanked anyone who was listening.

Music Peeps 🎵

Dowoon: I think I can make it today

Dowoon: and thanks for being so awesome :’)

Wonpil: what else am I

Dowoon chuckled and checked the time quickly. 10:17. Luckily, it was Saturday already, so he had no classes. And Thursday felt so long ago, but it was only two days before. The death of his family felt like old news, but was still painful.

The thought was so sudden, Dowoon was surprised. But, shockingly, it didn’t bring tears to his eyes. He had been successfully distracted by the note and Sungjin’s calming presence.

He gave a placid sigh. Practice started a few minutes ago, but he was determined now to relieve himself further. But would he be able to tell them about the voice, or the note? They could react in multiple ways, and if he added that along with the news of death, they might overreact.

Dowoon shook his head as if to clear it, and slowly returned to his room to get dressed. Lastly, he grabbed his jacket. Phone in hand, he exited the building swiftly.

Mid-morning brought a chilly breeze and calm streets. Though there were still many cars on the roads, most people were at work or school, and therefore the sidewalks were also hardly used. Trees planted near the walkway had already dropped most of their leaves, so each step he took crunched loudly.

It was relaxing, being outside in solitude. Each breath beheld a sting in the back of Dowoon’s throat that was somehow reassuring, and every exhale puffed a cloud of warm air.

The music room was only a few blocks away from Dowoon’s apartment. His legs knew the way, even if he had his eyes closed. The building that he now stood in front of looked so welcoming and homey; why had he avoided its comfort? He hadn’t meant to, since Tuesday, but then Thursday came along and gave him an extra reason to stay home.

But now, he bit his lip in anticipation. This music room would finally allow him to really release his negative energy. He pulled open the glass door and breathed in the warm air he was immediately hit with. He took in the familiar surroundings: the cozy sitting room, the low table encircled by pale plush couches, the soft patterned carpet. It was exceptionally empty today, with only one person using a couch, most likely waiting for a ride.

Dowoon stepped toward a door in the back of the room. Behind it would be a hallway of a few doors leading to private rehearsal spaces. Opening the door, he set his legs to walk to the second door on the right, and he entered quickly.

He was greeted by Sungjin and Wonpil, already at their instruments. Wonpil, with his light brown, almost blonde, hair, he had a little smile on his face as he hummed an unknown song. Sungjin had a straight face, but his eyes glowed cheerfully.

It took them a second to notice him, focused on typing out lyrics on the computer next to Sungjin. Wonpil noticed him first, and stood brightly, waving excessively.

“Dowoon’s here!” he exclaimed happily. “We’ve been writing down lyrics for the tune we came up with a few days ago.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sungjin offered, watching Dowoon sit at the cajon drum box. “We didn’t want to waste time here, since we couldn’t practice without you.”

Dowoon shook his head kindly. “No, I’m glad.”

Wonpil sat back at the keyboard bench, wiggling his fingers gently over the keys. “Can we play what we figured out, Sungjin-hyung?” he asked with vigor. “It’s really pretty, but also really awesome!” he described, turning to Dowoon.

Sungjin nodded, typing a few more words down. Then he looked at Dowoon. “I hope you can figure out a good drum beat for this. I tried, but I wanted you to do it instead.”

“Yeah,” Wonpil said accusingly. “He tried, but he was kinda bad.”

Dowoon, who had been quiet, laughed. “It has been a while for him,” he managed to say before laughing harder, along with Wonpil. It didn’t last long before Sungjin cleared his throat.

“At least you’re laughing,” he said, catching Dowoon’s attention. They locked eyes, Sungjin raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Oh.” Dowoon ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “Uh, Wonpil, On Thursday…”

Wonpil instantly turned his attention to Dowoon, any trace of his laughing gone. He had heard the solemnity of his voice, and knew to stop. “Yes? What… happened?”

Part 4 (coming soon)

#day6 #yoon dowoon #dowoon #day6 dowoon #dowoon day6 #day6 x reader #day6 au #dowoon x reader #universal bias wrecker #megan #who are you

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joshslater · 5 years ago

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The Cupbearer

This is a relay, doing a continuation of tamed-jock’s continuation of jd07201990′s story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

Infection+2:25

Let's write a captains log, like Tyler and I used to do, only this time I have actual observations and events to record. It is now approximately 2 hours and 25 minutes since he placed the cup on me. I immediately went home, and have done some preliminary studies of the object.

My most immediate concern is the attachment mechanism. I can really only think of three, suction, adhesion or some sort of mechanical attachment to my... thing. Observations are a bit limited as the object responds to stimulii. In the first instance when I grabbed it in the rest room there wasn't much of a response. The feeling was similar to that of a vacuum pull in the whole area, but I'm not feeling a constant force as I would expect from vacuum. Also, when the cup was applied it felt like it was filled with, or quickly filled up with a gel of some sort.

Wanting to rule out vacuum, or in best case break the vacuum and remove the object, I attempted to insert a narrow tube from my model steam engine in between the skin and the object. That did provoke a response. It felt like the contents of the cup was rapidly replaced or infused with icy-hot gel. This entry has been delayed by approximately 40 minutes, as I have been lying on my bed and desperately trying to avoid touching it. Every time I fail I get like a pulse of renewed icy-hot in the cup.

Infection+2:50

I've decided to avoid further experiments and focus on observation and external research. The cup itself appears to be mix of carbon fiber, titanium and some other fairly high tech materials. This points to high tech origin, but beside the logotype I find no other markings like brand, manufacturer, patents, serial number etc. My first attempts to Google this kind of product or stories from someone with similar experience come up short. I took a picture of the logo, cleaned it up and sent it through USPTO image search to see if anyone has a trademark on it, but came up empty as well.

It sure smells bad. I need to come up with an excuse for mum.

Infection+6:00

I told mum that I'm having my scent-month, as if every teenage boy has one. I said Tyler just had his, so if she checks with his parents they will confirm it. Why does it smell so bad though? It is clearly the cup that emits it, since the smell came on pretty strong only seconds after Tyler attached it. Is it distraction? Is it to mask something else? Is it to make the wearer body conscious or odor conscious and avoid contact with other people? Is it to acclimate the wearer to the smell? I don't see how I can answer any of these questions purely from observation though. Something to sleep on perhaps. How do you pee with this thing?

Infection+6:15

So the pee just kind of filters out in the lower part of the cup. If you want to use a toilet you have to basically sit on it reverse, do you thing, and then wait a few minutes for it all to drain out. A big drawback is that you have to step out of pants and boxers to even sit reverse on a toilet.

Infection+10:20

I think the damn thing just woke me up. Or I'm just have a restless night because of all that is happening, and more importantly what will happen. Fuck you Tyler!

Infection+12:05

It's definitely the cup that woke me. Just as I was waking up I could feel some sort of vibration down there. What other crazy shit have they packed into the device. My bedroom smells like a locker room. Thanks Tyler!

Infection+13:55

Fuck it, I'm getting up. I'll pee in the shower.

Infection+14:20

So that didn't work as well as I hoped. I could pee fine, but when I turned on the shower it was like pouring water in a gym shoe. If it smelled bad before, it absolutely reeks now. I think I'm gonna steal one of mum’s pads and tape it to the front, since it is still leaking God knows what and then wrap it in plastic and hope that contains the worst of it.

Infection+17:30

I didn't think of mobility enough. Jeans are clearly out of the question, so I went to school in chinos. It's bad enough that the cup is rigid, over sized and fully attached. Add to that some extra padding and cram it in chinos that aren't exactly lose to begin with, and you have something that looks funny stationary and awkward/hilarious when moving.

If I walk slowly I think I might come up with a gait that might be described as exaggerated jock sway, which would be step up from whatever ludicrous I'm doing now. Damn, I should have practiced yesterday.

I need to find some better pants, because these are too tight and restrictive.

Infection+21:30

My efforts to contain the smell isn’t fooling anyone, but I hope it just smells like I have a bad hygiene day. My crotch is a sauna though. The plastic wrap needs to go. Tyler kept his distance. I wonder if he is ashamed, or if he doesn't give a shit. Perhaps they have some sort of protocol he adheres to.

Day 2, 4:40 pm

Let's stop fucking around with the childish infection timer. This is serious. I found something sobering when doing some online patent search.

I was just blindly trying to find patents for any of the different things this cup does, and managed to find a description on "bio-polymer adhesion complex and application for individualized restriction control". I don't understand more than a fraction of what is written, but in the schematics there is a drawing of EXACTLY the cup I'm wearing. The list of example uses in the description includes prison inmates and persons under house arrest. This is a retrofitted fucking ankle bracelet.

It's originally designed to never come the fuck off through tampering. Fuck.

Day 2, 6:30 pm

Mum gave me some Vichy Laboratories excessive odor control deo roll on she bought at the pharmacy. Roll on to what, exactly? Well, she can only solve problems she knows about I guess. Should I tell her? Would she mind having a sports jock son? She would probably tell me to do whatever makes me happy. Would I be happy? Tyler certainly looks pretty fucking pleased.

Day 2, 8:20 pm

I've not spent that much time on wanking before. Like once or twice a month. But now that I can't my mind kind of wanders to it all the time. I've done some, let's call it research, that you can orgasm pretty well by putting something in your ass. Not doing that.

Day 2, 9:46 pm

Got some weird hot flashes in the cup while taking a shower. Smells as bad post shower as the last time. I don't know if it is the smell or I'm tired, but I went to bed early. I'm too hot and sweaty to fall asleep though.

Day 3, 2:12 am

Can I go to the police? This is clearly some sort of assault. Tyler would be the first one under the bus. Perhaps the coach. Probably not further than that. This is backed by serious money after all, so they will just protect themselves and their IP. Does it really matter though? By the time they've forced any action I've had this thing on me for a month, I've grown a donkey dick and gone completely mad. Much good some cash compensation will do then. And do I want to punish Tyler? Fuck yeah I want, but not like that. He's a victim too.

Go directly to a hospital then? If I can't figure out what this thing is or does, how would hospital staff be any better. They'll probably start cutting around it, and there is no telling how it will respond. It was designed to never come off, at least not without a fight. Probably horribly so, to set an example.

Day 3, 2:28 am

I'll try to sleep in the garden. It's cooler outside and doesn't stink.

Day 3, 4:51 am

Dozed off a bit I think.

I've been thinking about the construction of the cup. There are a some design details that has been nagging me. For something that small it appears to be almost magical in abilities and power storage. But then it hit me, it's not crammed packed with batteries, electronics, vials of chemicals and all other stuff you might need to build something like this.

It's biological. Perhaps not in the "alive" sense of an organism, but "alive" in the sense a virus is alive. It's a biochemical robot following instructions encoded in DNA, or something like it. If you consider it a manufactured parasite it all makes sense. It has access to the resources of a full human body and can leech heat energy and pee chemicals off the body indefinitely. The "bio-polymer" attach to the skin, and perhaps even have direct access to nerve impulses. There is really thin membranes in the dick, so it can probably send stuff directly into the blood stream as well.

Fuck.

Day 3, 9:36 am

I just realized I can't remember a thing that has been said so far in school today. I need to cum!

Day 3, 11:23 am

Becky spent her presentation on "Manspreading". She probably started working on the talk already last week, knowing her, but she clearly directed a lot of the points directly at me. Looked directly my way for most of the talk. No, Becky, I'm not subconsciously asserting dominance.

I CAN'T PHYSICALLY CLOSE MY LEGS, BECKY!

I found a different pair of chinos that works better, Becky. No matter what I do, there will be a pretty sizable bulge down there though, Becky.

Day 3, 14:02

God Dammit! The inside of the cup just went super cold 10 minutes into math class. I couldn't finish a single thing. Just not jumping and screaming was hard enough. It's mostly back to normal now, I think.

Day 3, 15:14

This is what I think happened. They started to test the cups on inmates. By mistake it started to leak chemicals or active DNA from the device into the inmates. They had tested the cup technology artificially before, on pigs perhaps, and hadn't seen these effects. But they didn't put it on the pig’s dick, did they.

So suddenly their inmate control device has turned into the worlds best slow release injector for men. Perhaps even the original formula made dicks grow. They just made the minimal needed changes and paid coach to start human trials on teenagers.

Then why the fuck do I need to keep this log? They must have so much more data on what is done to us to have a useful trial. I guess this might come in handy in the inevitable court case.

Day 3, 16:40

I'M SO HORNY ALL DAY.

I went to have a cold shower. If anything things just went even worse. How is this happening! FUCKING FUCK TYLER FUCK

Day 3, 20:18

Why do I have to do this? I know what the end point is going to be. A fucking dumb, arrogant jock dick. Assuming it is inevitable, and I don't see any way out, why not have it over and done with tomorrow. Just walk to the gallows and submit. Whatever that thing is doing, physically and mentally, is minimized the sooner it's off me. Back when Becky would speak with me she told me a rumor that the nerds gone jocks all had monster cocks. She didn't say anything about the regular jocks, so it probably is specific to this procedure.

And if they, the old jocks, are not joining up hand over fist to get such dicks, the procedure itself, or the side effects, must be pretty discouraging. Otherwise they would just cram the cup down their own pants.

Let's get rid of this thing first thing in the morning.

Day 3, 11:49 pm

Fuck, it vibrates.

I've been sweating balls, trying to sleep naked without any sheets. I was just sort of tugging at it, to see if I could feel anything in the dick, when it started to vibrate. It's been going for like 15 minutes now.

Day 4, 2:11 am

I smell.

The cup stinks, but I smell. While trying to ignore the humming dick I noticed that my armpits smell like moist gym bag.

I showered like 10 hours ago. That's never been a problem before, so it's definitively changing me somehow.

I fucking need this thing off me ASAP!

Day 4, 2:20 am

fucking god dammit it went ice cold again

Day 4, 7:38 am

So I went to the locker room. Once inside I realized I didn't really have a plan. What if they were not all in on it? I would appear like a lunatic, ranting about sci-fi balls cups. Turns out I didn't need to worry. First guy who saw me, Derek or Devin or something. Big guy, short buzz, looks intimidating. Anyway, he saw me and started shouting "You are not supposed to be here." I was like "I need to get something removed".

He walked up right into my face. "You are not on the list. Tyler fucked up so someone has to be punished. Fuck off!"

I hesitated to leave. He took one step forward, physically pushing me backwards and almost had me trip over. "GET OUT!" he shouted right in my face.

Day 4, 9:16

I've been locked inside the disabled toilet and crying since leaving the locker room. How long can I go with this thing on? You physically die after about a week without sleep, but it is letting me sleep in short bursts, so perhaps it could keep up indefinitely. I can't. I won't. Why shouldn't I just tell everything to mum, have her call the school, the coach, the press. Whatever is needed for someone to get this thing off me.

I should think this over carefully. But how is that possible if you are sleep deprived, horny AF and your dick is on vibrate mode? I can't stay here though. I'll walk home and tell mum first thing she gets home.

When I open the door, the first thing I see is Tyler, leaning against the opposite wall and smiling a smirk.

- Sup bro? - FUCK YOU! You ruined my life! - It was a shit one anyway. You should get another one. - That's not happening either, is it?

Suddenly I was bawling my eyes out. Exhaustion, sleep deprivation, rejection, horniness, anger. It was all coming together.

- Heyyy bro, come here.

I fucking hated him, but somehow I didn’t just bolt. I walked right into his arms and let him hug me. I realized that his change in appearance and personality had obscured his bodily changes. Just feeling his arms around me, I could tell he had gotten a lot stronger.

- You know Steve O'Conner in the chess club, right?

It was such an odd non-sequitur. I had to struggle a bit, but yeah, I'd helped him with a science project last year.

- A little bit, why? - I talked things over. Give him this and you are back on the list, second place.

He handed me another cup, packaged in a sealed, tearable plastic bag. I know I should feel sorry for Steve, but the only thing I could think of was my vibrating dick.

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fuwafuwamedb · 5 years ago

Text

A Cursed G Pt 26 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Enkidu)

Previous Part: 1 - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25

_____

It was Monday.

On Saturday, he would be marrying this woman. On Saturday evening, he would be taking her back to Uruk. That meant that, during the course of this week, she would be experiencing the last of everything here. No more laptops. No more traffic jams. No more fending for herself for meals and eating whatever vulgarity she had eaten from those boxes of hers.

She would be adorned in swaths of fabrics, dripping from the neck and wrists in gold jewelry and gemstones. The woman would find that means were prepared by others, set out for her to enjoy the most of while she was at his side.

There would be festivals where she was called upon by the priests and temple maidens to pray for him and for Uruk.

Endless responsibilities lay in her future.

This was time for her to experience the end of this era.

So then…

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh nudged the woman, finding her shifting in bed.

“I’m sleepy,” she yawned at him, stretching a little before she wrapped her arms around the clay being at her side.

“Your classes?”

She hummed.

“…Are you telling me that you are not wishing to attend your daily functions?”

Another shifting, almost making him believe that she was going to get up this time. Instead, she pulled him in, pressing her against her chest.

Well then.

Gilgamesh glanced up at the pleased fool, watching her return to sleep.

His arms snaked around her waist, his mouth pressing to her chest. A small affection had her sighing. A nip had her legs moving, her nose getting the slightest of wrinkles as she made a noise of complaint.

He didn’t have coffee.

It was fine that she wanted to skip the lectures since they were not relevant and were vastly incorrect about him and pretty much most everything. He didn’t even mind that she wanted to relax at the house for the day, since it meant that she would be here with him and Enkidu.

There was still need for coffee though.

She could be lazy once he had his drink for the morning. Enkidu was beginning to try to encroach upon her as well. They couldn’t be having too much of that.

He nipped at her belly, inching that fabric over her chest up. There was more and more skin being exposed to the open air.

“Gil,” the woman whimpered softly, her voice higher than usual.

That was very cute.

He pressed the softest of kisses to the peaks of that chest, watching her eyes open and the woman glance down at him.

“I’m trying to sleep,” she mumbled.

“Coffee, Hakuno.”

She groaned, letting out a yawn and nodding softly. “Coffee.”

“We need coffee.”

She pushed him lightly, sitting up only to lean against him.

“Hakuno?”

Another yawn; the woman rubbed at her eyes a little before leaning against his shoulder. He could feel her weight shift, her body going straight back to sleep.

“This isn’t helping you get your coffee, Hakuno,” Gilgamesh warned her, shaking her lightly.

“Right. Right…” She stood up, heading for the bathroom. “I’ll just take a quick shower before we go. Can you wake up Enkidu?”

Could he wake up Enkidu.

He had to laugh at the thought of anyone being capable of waking up that clump of clay. No, he didn’t bother with attempting such a thing. The being would take one look at him and drag him into the depths of the clay, both holding him hostage and sacrificing his morning.

That was why, wrapping the sheets around Enkidu, Gilgamesh hauled the being out to the car and tossed them in.

The sounds of Enkidu complaining could be heard as he went back inside, heading to the bathroom himself and climbing into the shower behind Hakuno.

There was soft skin. There was a warm, sleepy woman who was still too tired to fully realize that she was showing a little too much emotion. She always managed to surprise him, especially with that small kiss to his chest.

She looked good pressed against the wall of the shower. She looked even better with his hands on her chest, holding that excess of breasts in his hands before he slowly moved his hands down her sides.

“Gilgamesh… coffee.”

“I am busy.”

She groaned a little, pulling back and climbing out.

“Hakuno!” Enkidu’s voice could be heard from the other parts of the house. “Gil tossed me in the car!”

“Good, we’re getting coffee.”

The being was gone, the door wide open as Hakuno pulled on a thick set of garments and slipped on her shoes. She was still grabbing her purse when Enkidu returned, finding them both still gathering themselves.

“Come on!”

“Enkidu!” Hakuno gaped at them. “GET DRESSED!”

“I have a fabric!”

“GIL!” Hakuno grabbed the being, holding them tight as she threw the door shut. “GET THEM SOMETHING!”

“I don’t see the problem.”

“They’re naked!”

“I have a sheet,” Enkidu pointed out once again. They did too. It was an average sheet. Even a bit thin for covering the being, but it wasn’t anything to get worked up about.

“Gil!”

He shrugged, dumping a handful of fabrics onto the duo.

They two stumbled under the onslaught of the various pieces of attire, both popping their heads out as they pulled apart. He could see Hakuno’s gaze fall to him.

“You said to get them something.”

He was quite good at being a fiancé. Look at him, catering to the needs she had. He would enjoy his rewards from her immensely once she was done treating his friend.

“This will be fine.” Hakuno grabbed one of the fabrics, shoving it around the being and tying it into place. “You shouldn’t be running around outside without clothing on. We aren’t in ancient times and no one wants to see that out there… at least, no one worth showing yourself to.”

“Thanks, mother,” Enkidu drawled. They leaned in, kissing at her temple. “You’re so loving. So sweet. I promise not to go out naked again.”

Gilgamesh stared at the two, sobering.

“You’re such a brat,” Hakuno growled, pushing them off and tossing a jacket their way as well. “I’m not getting you extra coffee.”

“Hakuno, my body needs twice what yours needs.”

“My wallet says you can starve.”

“Mother, don’t leave me to suffer,” the being whined, wrapping their arms around her. “I have needs! Think of your child!”

“Gil! Help me with them!”

It took a second. He was watching Hakuno try not to laugh, trying desperately to open the door now that Enkidu was up and dressed. He could see Enkidu teasing Hakuno by tickling at her sides and whining about needing their coffee.

“Gil!”

Right.

He hauled the being over his shoulder, finding them grasping his sides and clinging as they headed out to the car.

They parked in front of the building for once, instead of demanding their service through the window. Hakuno was motioning them in, showing them a poorly lit area with tables.

To call it a gathering hall would have been to insult to most of the halls he had been in.

To call it a private sitting area was also incorrect.

The little tables had no rhyme or reason to the direction they faced. The corners, filled with overly plush seating, also showed little sense in allowing the building’s occupants to communicate effectively.

Then again, he had seen some of the places in this time. They were not about logic in this place.

Hakuno would have so very much to learn when they arrived in Uruk. She would probably become surprised at how much better it was to live in a world and time that was filled with actual accessibility to others and real ongoing relationships between the people and their ruler.

His drink was ordered, the only thing he could care about at the moment. Enkidu bickered with Hakuno and the woman behind the counter for several minutes before deciding on something, leaving Hakuno to shake her head and motion to a door nearby.

“I’ll be right back. I need the restroom.”

“Restroom?”

“Toilet.”

Ah, that made sense.

“We’ll grab your purchases.”

Well, he would.

He had no doubt that, if left to their own devices, Enkidu would take a bite out of the things that Hakuno had ordered for the three of them. Their sharing left a bit to be desired.

“Hakuno’s planning on staying.”

The woman had vanished behind the toilet door, leaving him to look over at Enkidu as they murmured that.

“She told me yesterday.”

“Good, then we have nothing to concern ourselves with. Once we’re done here, we’ll simply drag Hakuno home and that will be the end of this.”

“And Ishtar?”

“Give Hakuno a few weeks. She’ll have the people swayed and we’ll have her claim a patron god or goddess…” He could think of a few that would be beneficial. Nanna would be ironic. Enlil would be useful…

He grabbed the drinks and bag as they were set on the counter, Hakuno’s name being called out. As he had suspected, Enkidu was sniffing around at the bag, looking only too happy to test out what foods Hakuno had deemed acceptable.

“You’re acting like a child.”

“I’m hungry, Gil. You and Hakuno barely eat enough to survive.”

“We ate plenty yesterday.”

Still, he found himself snorting, holding the bag away from the being as they tried to grab it. The more he held it away, the more he found Enkidu climbing onto him.

“Enkidu-“

“Just my food then. Don’t be stingy!”

“We eat as a group.”

“Don’t hold back on a poor friend!”

He laughed again, holding the bag up a bit more before the being cheated. A few spectators frowned, looking at Enkidu carefully as their arm returned to a normal length. Their hands delved into the bag and pulled out their pastry.

“Hakuno will side with me,” they told him.

She would. He had no doubt of that.

He sipped at his drink a bit more, frowning as he leaned against the counter.

A few others came and went, leaving him to nurse the drink in hand. Enkidu took to Hakuno’s food, as was appropriate when he found that his drink was halfway gone.

They were still waiting…

“Enkidu?”

The being glanced their way.

“Go get Hakuno.”

She was taking too long. Had she fallen asleep, it would be a problem with returning home. If something else had happened…

His eyes strayed to a group, noting a dark haired woman bouncing out the door.

His stomach plummeted. He didn’t even wait for the being to begin heading that direction. He went himself, pushing the doors open and glancing at the room.

Women screeched.

He left that for Enkidu to handle, knocking and trying each of the doors.

A woman screeched in the first stall, going to hit him and earning the door in her face. The second, a rather pleasing to the eye blonde was also outraged, screaming at him until he threw the door closed.

The third door was open.

He went on.

Fourth… fifth… The sixth stall was here he located her.

The woman was passed out, her head resting against the wall next to her. Flickers of magic said there had been some kind of disagreement.

“It’s alright! Sorry!” Enkidu was waving his arms at the women and the servants that were in the area around them. “We were waiting on his fiancé and thought she may be experiencing some kind of problem!”

There were murmurs of something called a hospital.

He waved them off and carried Hakuno out, cursing under his breath.

“How do we get back?” Enkidu asked, climbing in underneath Hakuno’s person and hugging her close.

Options were short.

“I have seen her steer this beast. If I can watch, I can manage it myself.”

The being sucked in a breath. “Gil-“

“Quiet, Enkidu. Look after Hakuno.”

He should have had them remain in bed.

First and foremost, he should have had them remain in bed and in her home. Ishtar wasn’t bold enough to enter the place without invite. He and Enkidu were also not inclined to extend one. They would have been safe.

The strange key that Hakuno used started up the beast of a wagon as usual.

He glanced at the knob, shifting it.

The wagon moved backwards.

She needs a better seat than this tiny thing, he thought, glancing at his feet as he found that he had to use the strange knobs below as well.

“The left one stops it. The right one moves it.”

“I’m aware, Enkidu.”

The being was earning their friendship with him all over again. He shifted the knob once more and heard an odd sound.

It didn’t seem right so he pulled the knob on the side down further.

Now, as he pressed the move pedal, the thing was moving. The cars around them were honking, leaving him to throw glares their direction before he headed off.

Thus far, they were doing well.

The cars around them stopped at a light.

He followed suit.

“Hakuno’s home is that way,” Enkidu told him.

“You’re in charge of navigation.”

“Right.”

For some reason, they seemed to have a lot of these wagons honking at them. It was more like navigating through a flock of those obnoxious birds he’d have the lions chase rather than the usual drive. Enkidu motioned one direction and the next, holding his woman close as they went.

Another street and Gilgamesh all but growled.

“Hakuno never has it this noisy!”

“I think they sense that you’re new to this.”

“I’m navigating as they would! I do not see the difference, other than this useless seat being made for a child!”

“Calm, Gil. I think Hakuno likes this wagon.”

He was sure she did, since she was so careful when driving it.

The moment her home came into view and they were pulled into her spot, he stopped and turned off the beast.

“This was not worth it.”

“We need to get Hakuno inside.”

His hand slammed against the center of the helm of the wagon, sending the wagon into a screech.

“I HATE THIS TIME!”

“Gilgamesh!” Enkidu pat his shoulder. “It’s fine! Let’s… Let’s just get inside.”

And what?

Glancing over at Hakuno, he could see she was already sweating. Her normally pale complexion was drenched in sweat, looking more and more like she was…

No.

“We’re opening the gates to Uruk.”

He pulled Hakuno out of Enkidu’s grip, directing him up to the house. They fumbled with that useless little bag of Hakuno’s, pulling out the key to the house and stepping inside.

The house felt wrong.

“Gil, shouldn’t we wait-“

“We have no time.”

Enkidu had mana. They could use their own.

He pulled out the notes from before, bundling his woman up carefully as Enkidu went about locking her useless wagon and home. He shouted, the being told him to hold off. He growled, the being told him to just have patience.

His patience was about to throttle the being when they had a bag and were nodding to him.

“Alright.”

They had the pathway open in a matter of moments.

Stepping through, Gilgamesh found himself calling out for the guards and the apsu, settling Hakuno onto his throne.

“My king!” Siduri scrambled after several guards.

“Siduri! Prepare my chambers and see to it the apsu hurry! Ishtar’s gotten to Hakuno.”

#drabble #drabbles

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lianneoelke · 4 years ago

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The Vancouver Island & Sunshine Coast Loop: A Solo Cycle Tour of BC’s Finest Retirement Communities. Part 2

Day 4: I hit the road at 7am. A quick ride on the Trans Canada woke me up and brought me to my daily bakery stop.

Serious Coffee for Serious Cyclists.

After second breakfast, I only had to follow one road: the 19A. With wide shoulders and no navigation required, I made good time up the coast. It would have been top notch riding if it wasn’t for the EXCESSIVE WIND that blew all day for NO REASON AT ALL.

The best views were at Union Bay, where I slowed down a little too much until I realized the ferry I wanted to catch was coming up soon. I gunned it the last 25km to Comox, which was, shockingly, FULL OF HILLS. I gave up on my granny gear zen and let my rage carry me to the ferry terminal, where I caught the 3:25 just in time. The wind refused to chill out so I sat inside and charged my phone while I watched the white caps dance on the ocean.

Once I landed in Powell River it was only a few minutes to the campsite. After 113km my legs once again felt perfectly normal, which was weird. Sitting on a bike saddle, however, was deeply uncomfortable. I decided to walk the 3km to Townsite Brewing, stopping to gorge on veggie korma and stuffed potato naan on the way.

I didn’t have room for another beer but I drank it anyway because I had biked HUNDREDS OF KILOMETERS to get there.

I met this beautiful cat on the way back to the campsite, where I quickly fell asleep.

Day 5 began with gear sorting. It seemed like a lot.

I was a bit apprehensive about biking on the Sunshine Coast as I heard it was even hillier than Vancouver Island, but if the family camping next to me could bike to Lund from Powell River with a trailer and a young kid, there's no reason Gavin and I couldn't. The hills were very present, but still doable. I only had 27km to go, and I would have enjoyed the long decent into Lund if I knew I wouldn't have to climb back up eventually.

Lund was a tiny, bustling hub. I was surprised at the size of the grocery and liquor store (also surprised there was a liquor store at all). The store didn’t have much fresh produce, but I can live off beans, chips, and hot dogs for DAYS, thank you very much. Next I headed to Nancy's Bakery for a couple sandos and one of their famous blackberry cinnamon buns (which I'd been thinking about since the last time I was there, two years ago). I found a patio spot next to an outlet and gave my phone one last top up, because I couldn’t count on charging anything on Savary Island. With a couple hours before my water taxi reservation, I found myself on my own with nothing to do, which hadn't happened yet on the trip. I decided to call my parents and tell them what I was doing. I promised my mom I’d write a blog post so I could share some photos (hi, mom!). It was bizzy on Savary Island: rubbermaids, bags, boxes of booze, bikes, and a line of trucks lined up the dock. The people quickly dispersed into various homes, cabins, guest houses, resorts, and moss covered trailers. I went up the hill (no matter where I went, it was up a hill) to the campground: a loose scattering of wooden tent pads on some guy’s property. The owner told me “There is no check in. You just find a site that looks good and settle in.” Cool.

Of course the only rain I saw on the trip happened as soon as I arrived at a sub-tropical island. I expected to have a nap ASAP, but instead opted for a cold shower and laundry in the sink. I couldn’t fully clean my smelly bike shorts with Camp Suds; I could only make them slightly less smelly.

Savary is a long, skinny island filled with lush rainforest and edged with white sandy beaches. After a comfortable and pitch black night, I was up at a decent hour. Day 6 was my rest day, which meant biking without all my gear. My legs felt overqualified for the 8km rip across the island and back.

It was Gavin’s rest day, too.

After a big brunch scramble and a hot dog, I headed to the beach, which was just as sunny and glorious as I imagined. I took a dip in the ocean, read, ate a bag of chips and a hot dog. When I ran out of food I went back to my camp and made an underwhelming dinner of overcooked veggies and terrible instant mashed potatoes with a hot dog.

One of the best books I’ve read in a long time. It’s about a girl growing up in a survivalist, ultra conservative, and unsafe family fighting for education, despite never setting foot in a classroom until the age of 17. I left my copy at a community library on Savary. Feel free to go get it. On day 7 I caught the morning water taxi back to Lund, then made one more stop at Nancy's before tackling the 3km uphill. It was overcast and muggy. Sweaty and grimy. The ride to Powell River was quick though, and I treated myself to a Buddha bowl and cold beer for lunch.

It was another 27km to Saltery Bay...

... which was an exceptionally beautiful provincial park.

Of course the campground attendant came to collect fees while I was in the middle of washing myself from a pot.

I felt resourceful that day. Like I belonged out there. It was the little things, like seeing the cycle route sign even though I didn’t see any other cyclists, collecting large rocks to hold my tent down because the ground was too hard for stakes, or improvising a bear hang because the campground didn’t have a bear proof locker for cyclists (get it together, Saltery). Part of me still feels like the kid who spends all her time reading, watching LOTR EE marathons, and making pizza at Panago for $6 an hour. I never grew up thinking of myself as athletic or woodsy, and compared to many people I'm not, but it's about time I realize I can do this on my own. And that I love it.

Day 8 began with a serene ferry ride to Earl's Cove. Out of the entire trip, I was the most nervous about the upcoming ride from Earl's to Sechelt. I knew it would be windy, narrow, and steep, and I didn’t want to end up schmucked on the side of the 101 because some yahoo hauling a yacht, four kayaks, and a dozen mountain bikes couldn't be bothered to slow down on a blind corner. But at this point I had 500km of experience, a bag of Sour Cherry Blasters, and my screaming pink cycling jersey to get through the day safely. It was relatively quiet early Wednesday morning, and the beautiful ride turned out to be one of my favourite sections.

I took a detour on Redrooffs Road after Half Moon Bay to get off the highway for a bit. It was scenic enough, but the elevation was stupid. I hadn’t walked Gavin up that many hills since Thetis Lake Regional Park. Things started to go downhill from there. Metaphorically of course, as the hills only went up.

Traffic volume started to increase at Sechelt, where I stopped for candy. The Cherry Blasters picked me right up, but not even a sugar rush can hold off eight days of fatigue indefinitely. The last few kilometers to Gibsons weren't exactly painful, but they were not pleasant. My faith in Google Maps’ elevation estimates might never recover. My bike chain was dry and squeaking, but I thought if I could just make it to my destination and offload my gear I could zip back into town and find a bike shop and get some lubricant. In reality, once I finally arrived at Mike's place, after 83km and over 1400m of elevation gain, I couldn't bring myself to take the hill down into Gibsons again. "Can olive oil work on bike chains" is not my proudest Google search, but weary, smelly, and perpetually damp cyclists are nothing if not humble. And the answer is no, not really, but olive oil is better than nothing.

Thankfully Persephone Brewing was within walking distance. My healing began with an order of spring rolls and a rye farmhouse ale.

That evening, as I settled in to my tent, I heard the soft whisper of my couch back at home. The call of the bahn mis at Chickpea that Brian said were amazing. The whinny of my stupidly sensitive horse on Red Dead Redemption 2 Online. The sweet yet powerful purr of Alley Cat, my gentle golden nugget. I was a two hour ride away from completing the biggest physical achievement of my life. A year ago running 5k was a stretch, and biking 11km to Richmond was a chore. I wanted to do an ambitious cycle tour to see if I could. And I can. There’s nothing particularly special about me, or most people, but that doesn’t have to stop us from getting shit done.

Day 9 was a quick ride down to the ferry, then a hilly ride through West Van on Marine Drive. Once I hit the Lions Gate Bridge, I knew I was home free.

Coming home after 9 days and 590km of a door-to-door solo cycle tour was incredibly satisfying.

Almost as satisfying as seeing my number one precious sweet potato again!

This sweet pup is my number two.

Maybe one day I’ll do a proper Google Maps route but this is the general idea.

Highlight(s): the views on Salt Spring, Sokka’s beautiful kitten face, the ride up from Nanaimo, the white sandy beaches at Savary, the peaceful ferry ride from Saltery, the surprisingly doable hills after Earl's Cove, the pics of my niece and nephew smiling on their first day back at school, the beers and food at Persephone, the moment I realized that I absolutely crushed every part of my ambitious plan. Lowlight: Thetis Lake Regional Park. Gold star: Gavin. This humble, unassuming, steel frame hybrid has been a true star, solid and dependable. I love this bike. I love what we can do together. Runner up: The weather. Almost perfect. Runner up: My legs. You know what you did.

#sunshinecoast #savaryisland #cycletour #cycletouring #camping #bc #british columbia #canada

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cherryeol04 · 5 years ago

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The Firsts

Summary: No one ever told him that living was going to be so difficult. That there would emotions get couldn’t label and distinguish. He’s just a young boy trying to navigate through life and its unexpected ups and downs.

Genre: Humor, Fluff, smut(?)

Pairings: Oc x Felix, Oc x Changbin, Changbin x Oc x Felix

Warnings: poly relationship, angst in some part, excessive fighting about the MCU.

Parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17

A/N: This story has a theme of Firsts. First love, first kiss and many other firsts. Each part can be read on their own and are meant to stand as oneshots. It’s basically a collection of oneshots (little snapshots into my Oc’s life. 😁)

It was dark by the time the group had arrived at the fair. It had been Minho's idea to go, and Jisung's suggestion to go at night. Something about 'It's pretty at night time with all the lights on.' And Aiden honestly couldn't argue with that. Pulling into a parking spot, he marveled at the large fair to his right, lights flashing and spinning brightly on every ride that was operational. The Ferris Wheel was, of course, the most beautiful ride out of them all. It's lights flashed and spun, blinking steadily before moving in a wave of beautiful greens, blues, and purples. The highlight of the event and the ride that Aiden wanted to go on the most. Mostly because he just absolutely loved being high in the air and staring out at the city of Seoul.

"Finally! My legs were getting cramped." Woojin whined as he opened the passenger door and got out.

"Listen! It's not my fault you all picked me up late!" Hyunjin pouted as he opened the back door of the car, getting out first. Aiden followed behind him, Jisung crawling out last while Chan rounded the front of the car from the driver's side.

"It's your fault for having such long legs." Woojin pouted, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips. Hyunjin could only roll his eyes at the other, sticking out his tongue before slinging his arm around Aiden's shoulder.

"Well next time I should ride shotgun then, hyung." A simple shrug of the shoulders had Woojin snorting and Jisung laughing, the older male latching onto Hyunjin's arm, tugging him towards the ticket booths.

"Where are the others?" Aiden asked, eyes scanning the large crowd of people that were entering and exiting the fair, searching for any familiar looking heads. "Weren't they going to meet us here?"

"Oh well you know Minho." Chan laughed lightly. "He probably got sidetracked by something."

"I wouldn't be surprised. I'm amazed he even manages to get to school everyday." Hyunjin snickered.

"If that ain't the truth. I remember two weeks ago I texted him ten minutes before the bell rang, asking where he was. I've never seen a more disheveled look in my entire life. I still don't know how he got out of bed, dressed and to school in ten minutes." Aiden recounted with a light smile. "That hyung." he tsked to himself, earning laughs from the other four.

"Which hyung?" Aiden jumped at the voice, whirling around to lock with Minho, brow raised in interest.

"Oh, you know...that one hyung..." Aiden trailed off, trying to save his ass and failing miserably. "You know what, the last one to the ticket booth buys for everyone!" he shouted and turned, darting off to the nearest ticket booth. Footsteps echoed behind him and he turned, staring at Hyunjin and Jisung, behind them was Felix, Changbin, Seungmin, and Minho. He was a bit nervous for Minho to be there, but he hoped the other would drop the previous subject in exchange for getting either Chan or Woojin to pay for their tickets. After all, they were the oldest in their group of friends.

“Nine please.” Hyunjin ordered, flashing a smile to the ticket woman who was eyeing each and every one of them.

“Any adults?” She asked. Nodding, Hyunjin turned and pointed to Chan and Woojin as they finally approach, eyeing him before looking to the woman.

“Two adults and seven kids.” Despite the tickets only being for adults and children, the group still groaned at being referred to as kids. It wasn’t their fault they weren’t of age yet.

Woojin paid only after Chan batted his eyes at him. A pretty quick fight that led to Hyunjin and Seungmin giggling like little kids before snatching their tickets from Woojin’s grasp and heading inside.

“Alright, split up and meet back together in an hour?” Minho asked, arm sneaking its way around Jisung’s waist, pulling a flush from the other male.

“Sounds good! Don’t get lost, check your phones regularly.“

“Yes dad,” Felix grunted as Chan rattled off instructions. His eyes moved from the older man who was now whining about not being taken seriously and moved over to stare at Aiden, the other boy humming softly and playing with his ticket.

“Alright, be off you little hellions!” Chan waves his hand and Minho practically dragged Jisung through the gates of the fair, their squirrelly friend stumbling to keep up after the older male.

Aiden was much more calm about his arrival into the fair, handing his ticket to the ticket bearer before slipping through the gates. His eyes scanned the various food stalls in front of him, debating if he wanted to eat first or if he wanted to follow the high pitched screams of the patrons on the various rides.

“What are you doing first?” Aiden jumped at Felix’s voice, hand resting over his heart. Honestly, he needed new friends. The ones he currently had were hell-bent on giving him a heart attack for some reason. Grumbling about silent ninjas and needing collars with bells, Aiden lifted his gaze to meet Felix - suppressing the urge to run away for the simple fact that he hadn’t been alone with Felix or Changbin for a few months now. Not since the breakup. And while he liked to think he had gotten over Felix and forgave Changbin, seeing the two always felt like they were just ripping off the scabs of his slowly healing heart and making it bleed all over again.

“Oh, um I was debating if I wanted to eat first or go on rides.” He said, averting his gaze from the other.

“Always the hungry one.” Changbin teased lightly as he saddled up next to Felix. Yet, despite the teasing tone, there was an air of tension surrounding them and Aiden knew it was his fault. They were trying to make up with him, to get their friendship back to where it had been. But it was hard. How in the world was he supposed to act normal around them after finding out that they had started seeing each other when he had been away in Scotland. It was such a horrible betrayal, a self-esteem wrecker and that was saying a lot because Aiden didn’t have that much self-esteem to begin with.

“Probably better to ride first and then eat. Otherwise, you’ll just end up puking and that would be no bueno.”Felix laughed and Aiden nodded, a shy chuckle leaving him.

“Guess you’re right. So I’m gonna go find some rides to ride then.” Aiden mused.

“Cool, wanna go together?” Changbin offered, eyes intense as their gazed locked. Aiden could feel Changbin peering into his soul and he felt so vulnerable. “Like old times.”

“Old times.” Aiden repeated, head nodding slightly. “Um, sure. If you don’t mind me third-wheeling.” He agreed so easily, shrugging it off like it was no big deal but it was. This was a huge deal and Aiden wasn’t really sure if he was ready for this kind of scenario. Though if things went south, he could always run away and then just text one of the others to meet up with them.

“Awesome!” Felix’s eyes sparkled as his face lit up. Reaching out, he took Aiden’s hand and pulled him forward. “Let’s do the Himalayan ride! It’s the best!” He said and Aiden whined.

“Wait, is that the one that crushes the person sitting on the left side?” He asked worriedly.

———

It was indeed the one that squished the person on the left side. And Aiden felt extremely horrible for all the pain and torture he knew Changbin was going through as they went around in a circle, music blaring loudly and practically drowning out their screams. Aiden did his best to keep himself from sliding further to the left as they spun, but gravity (and Felix) made it near impossible for him to not press hard against Changbin’s side.

As the ride finally came to a halt, Aiden was trying to scoot away but Felix was still plastered to his body and was making no effort to move. “Binnie, are you alright?” The nickname rolled off his tongue like second nature and it sparked an emotion deep within his chest that he hadn’t felt in such a long time. A warmth blooming slowly as he stared at Changbin, the other nodded his head slowly as he tried to gather his bearings.

“I’m fine.” He answered after a moment of silence. He flashed Aiden a small smile for added reassurance and Aiden felt his heart flutter, which was something it had never done before. Except for maybe that one time over the summer. The latch to their door was unhooked by the ride attendant who was making his rounds. Door swinging open, Felix crawled out before yanking Aiden out with him.

“Come on! We have to ride Hydro Shock!” Felix shouted as he sprinted towards the exit of the ride, leaving Aiden to steady his legs and wait for Changbin to crawl out of the cart.

“How do you keep up with him?” Aiden asked breathlessly.

“I could ask the same for you. Was he always this hyper?” Changbin asked and Aiden laughed.

“No. I bet Jisung snuck him sugar earlier.” Aiden theorized and Changbin snorted.

“Wouldn’t be surprised.” He shrugged and sighed. “Alright, let’s hurry before he gets himself in trouble.” Nodding, Aiden followed Changbin out of the ride and onto the grassy field, heading in the direction they had seen Felix disappear in. It didn’t take them long to find him either, the hyperactive teen was waiting only a few feet away from them and eagerly grabbed their hands when in reach and dragged them to the most ominous looking ride ever.

Hydroshock was a pendulum-type ride, the arm attached to an A-frame of flashing lights of purple and blue. The arm it’s self extended to the ground and branched off into six separate arms, each hosting a row of four seats shining bright green.

“This is death.” Changbin gulped and Felix laughed.

“This is going to be fun!”

“This is how we die!” Changbin whined, being overly dramatic and Aiden couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh come on Binnie. I don’t remember you being such a baby.” He teased, taking a step closer to Felix to show he was siding with the other.

“I am a man!”

“Oh yeah? Prove it. Ride the ride with us.” Aiden challenge, eyes hard as he took in Changbin’s reaction. The confidence on Changbin’s face wavered for a moment before setting and he puffed out his chest.

“Alright! Let’s go then!”

“Yay!” Felix cheered happily and ran to get their place in line.

———

"Jesus, what happened to you two?" Minho asked as the group finally met back up near the food stalls. Their eyes were locked on the very pale and shaking Aiden and Changbin. "Looks like you two died or something." he commented.

"We did." Aiden groaned as he leaned against Changbin, stomach still doing flips from the last ride they had gone on - the pirate ship. Aiden was used to the pirate ships that just swung back and forth, going high and fast. He should have known it was a different kind of ride when the ship had actual harnesses to keep them in place. The first time it went up and almost completely upside down he had screamed so hard, begging for his mother. It was also the moment he promised to never let Felix pick the rides for them to go on, ever again.

"Oh, it wasn't that bad!" Felix laughed happily as he moved to the others and hummed. "So what are we eating? I'm famished." The smile he had could light up the entire area and it was killing Aiden. How could he be so happy after riding that death trap? Truly, never again would he trust Felix.

"Pirate ship?" Jisung asked as he moved over to the two and they nodded.

"Damn, I'm sorry guys." he laughed and patted Aiden's back gently. "Hey, they have some games that look pretty cool. After eat, wanna play with me?" Aiden's eyes lit up at the mention of games and he nodded his head quickly.

"Hell yeah! I gotta redeem myself after you cheated so badly at Mario Kart the other day."

"I didn't cheat!" Jisung gasped out, face scrunched up as he stared at the other.

"How dare you even think that. It's not my fault you suck at the game."

"I don't suck! I-"

"He swallows." Changbin commented, eyes wide and innocent, yet the smirk playing on his lips broke any illusion of innocence that Changbin was trying to go for.

"You- I do not swallow!" Aiden shouted, pulling stares not just from the others, but from people passing by. His cheeks flared with heat as he glared at Changbin, the older male cackling loudly. "Keep laughing, I hope you choke." he grunted and stomped away. He made his way down the row of stalls, glancing at each one that offered food in hopes it would ease the anger he was currently feeling. He stopped at a stall that was selling hot dogs and corn dogs and Aiden was truly thinking about buying at least five to eat away his emotions when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he stared into the worried eyes of Seungmin.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently. Turning away, he sighed softly and nodded his head. A beat passed and he was shaking his head. "Thought so." Seungmin mused. "I don't think it was a good idea for you to spend time with Changbin and Felix after what happened."

"Don’t you think I know that?" Aiden asked and pouted. "But you all ran off and left me alone with them."

"You didn't have to go with them."

"But they asked."

"Yeah, and if they asked, would you jump off a cliff?"

Aiden frowned and crossed his arms. "Well no, because I'm not an idiot." he said. "But that is different than blowing off your friends."

"Oh, so they're your friends now?" Seungmin asked shocked. "What happened to never wanting to speak to them again? How could they do that to you? And all that other stuff you cried to me and Minho about?" he asked, Aiden's shoulders sagging with each word that Seungmin spoke because it was true. He had said all that and more, but at the time he had been so heartbroken. So heartbroken that he had lost someone he really liked to his best friend and that it just seemed to validate all his insecurities that he just wasn't good enough. Too inexperienced and too shy to do most of the things Felix wanted to do. It only made sense to him that Felix found someone else, but that didn't ease the pain any less.

"It's complicated." he whispered, eyes closing for a moment to try and stop the tears from falling. Seungmin's hand gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, a sigh leaving him.

"You still love him, don't you?"

"Why wasn't I enough?" Aiden answered in return. "Why am I just so stupid? So shy and just..." he trailed off and took a deep breath. Reaching up, he rubbed his temple gently and shook his head. "They're being so kind to me and trying to make everything like it used to be and I like it." he confessed. "But I can't help but feel the hurt still. After all this time, they're just now-"

"No." Seungmin interrupted. "After all this time, you're finally noticing." he said. "They've been trying so hard to make up with you, we all can see it. But you kept running away and refusing to acknowledge them. And that's not a bad thing. I probably would have done the same thing if I was in your shoes."

"You would have killed them and got Minho to bury the bodies with you." Aiden teased, laughing lightly as Seungmin smiled.

"Okay, you got me there. But I'm telling you this entire time, they have been trying to make things right with you. So don't blame them for you noticing now. But be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt again."

Aiden's eyes lifted, meeting Seungmin's gaze and the worry that was etched so clearly in his beautiful brown orbs. "I'll try. I can't promise anything because we all know I'm a damn idiot." he said, cracking a small smile. "I want to be friends with them again. I miss my best friend." Seungmin nodded and nudged Aiden a bit with his shoulder as he flashed Aiden a reassuring smile.

"Everything will be okay. Now, what are we eating?" Seungmin asked and looked around at the stalls around them.

"Fifteen hot dogs." Aiden ordered, smiling at the man that had been privy to their whole conversation and was so kind enough to not make them move away and serve other customers.

"Fifteen?!"

"Listen, I'm hungry and nearly died twice on rides. I'm going to gorge on hot dogs okay? Try and stop me, I dare you." Aiden laughed and Seungmin shook his head.

"Make it twenty!" Aiden cheered at the order, adding drinks for them and standing off to the side while their order was filled.

———

Aiden grinned as he won at the clown water game, his balloon bursting just seconds before Jisung’s. “Yes! Redemption!” He shouted as the game announcer walked over and gave him the option of the small plushies hanging above their heads. He stared at each one, musing over which to get before finally picking the Pikachu plushie.

“You got lucky!” Jisung pouted, making Aiden laugh as he smacked Jisung’s shoulder with the toy.

“That’s right! Great game though.”

“It was so fun.” Jisung agreed as he wrapped his arm around Aiden’s waist and left the booth with him, humming to the random tunes that were being blasted at them from various games, rides and the general music of the fair. “So what’s next on our list?”

“I don’t know. Any game where the prize isn’t a fish though.” Aiden said as they walked past a duck fishing game, colorful fish swimming in small bowls as the prize for winners. “We could do the haunted house ride or the mirror funhouse?”

“No and no. I hate scary things and I get vertigo easily.” Jisung whined and pouted. Aiden sighed and shook his head, resting it on Jisung’s shoulder as they walked. “Hey! There’s Felix and BinBin! Let's go bug them.” Aiden gave a light hum in acknowledgment, following Jisung over to the two.

“Whoa.” He gasped as he stared at the large bear in Changbin’s arms. It was almost the same size as him. “How did you get that?”

“Felix played seven games.” Changbin said as he grabbed the bear arm and made it wave. “Hi, Aiden and Sungie. My name is Momo.” Changbin spoke in an exceptionally high voice that had Aiden laughing.

“Momo? From Twice?” Jisung asked as he mimicked a few moves from one of the songs.

“That fact you know how to do the dance is scary.” Aiden snickered and hummed, patting the bear on the head. “Good luck to you Momo. Maybe you’ll survive, maybe you won’t, living with this fool.” He teased and Changbin pouted, hitting Aiden with the bear arm.

“So rude! Binnie wouldn’t ever hurt me!”

Aiden laughed softly and shook his head. “Of course not.” He said and hummed softly. “What are you two up to now?” He asked.

“Oh, we were thinking of doing the Ferris Wheel and then seeing what the rest were up to. Kinda bored. We rode everything already.” Felix said as Changbin nodded.

“Oh sounds like a good idea! Let's all do the Ferris Wheel and then go home. I’ll text the group chat.” Jisung said as he removed his arm from Aiden and pulled out his phone. Aiden hummed as he watched Jisung, missing the way Felix and Changbin shared a look and looked at him.

“Okay!” Jisung announces. “They’ll meet us there. Let's go!” He said excitedly and took Aiden’s hand, dragging the boy away with a laugh.

Making their way to the Ferris Wheel took all of three minutes, the others standing by the entrance waiting for them when they arrived.

“Alright, how should we do this?” Chan asked as he looked at everyone. “If we do pairs, someone will be riding alone.”

“I don’t mind riding alone.” Aiden said with a smile. “So you guys pair up.”

“Are you sure?” Jisung asked and raised a brow. “You could ride with me and Minho.”

“When did I agree to be your buddy?” Minho snorted and Jisung rolled his eyes.

“Like you wouldn’t be.” He threw back and Minho shrugged.

“You’re not wrong.”

“It’s okay guys. I’ll be fine on my own. I’m a big boy now!”

“Holy shit! And we missed it?! I bought you big boy panties and everything!” Hyunjin laughed, Aiden pouting and pushing the other as he doubled over with laughter, the others following.

“Rude! I need new friends!” Aiden pouted as he moved to stand in line.

“You know you love us.” Woojin commented with a smile.

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Aiden mumbled, head tilted up as he watched the Ferris Wheel spun slowly, letting off people one compartment at a time and loading up with new passengers.

“How many?” The ride attendant asked, looking to Aiden.

“On-“

“Three.” Changbin’s voice startled him and he looked back at him in shock. “We’re not gonna let you ride alone.” He said with a shrug.

“Alright, get on.” The attendant opened the gate, motioning to the waiting car. Aiden hummed and stepped through, walking up onto the platform and over to the car, climbing in. Changbin entered behind him and Felix brought up the rear. The door closed and locked behind them and the ride moved slowly so the next car was brought down closer

“You really didn’t have to do this.” Aiden said as he sat opposite of the couple, eyes moving between the two before glancing out the car window.

“We wanted to.” Felix said as he shifted and placed the large bear next to Aiden and smiled. “You don’t mind, do you?” He asked.

“No! I just figured that you guys would want, you know, time alone.” His voice tapered off into a whisper as he drew his lower lip between his teeth.

“Why would we want that when we could spend time with you?” Changbin asked and Aiden snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Oh please, like why would you want to spend time with me?” He asked as he slouched back against his seat, arms crossed. “We all know I’m not worth that much.”

“Aiden...” Changbin said sadly.

“You do know that’s not true right?” Felix asked brows creased together tightly.

“It’s not? Really? Because it used to be you and me and now it’s you and him.” Aiden waved his hand at the two. “So tell me where the lie is.”

“The lie is that whole statement.” Felix grunted, hands clutching at his pant legs. “You never let us actually talk to you about what happened.”

“What is there to talk about? I left, you two got together and then we broke up over text.” Aiden said. “Seems pretty cut and dry.” He said as he turned to look out the window, watching as the city skyline slowly came into view as the last of the cars were loaded on the wheel.

“It’s not and if you would just shut up and listen to us -“

“I don’t have to do anything.” Aiden cut Felix off, never bothering to look back at them. Silence fell over them then, no one daring to say anything as the Ferris Wheel finally began and their cart was slowly brought back down and began the cycle back up.

After what felt like an eternity, Changbin finally broke the silence. “We want to date you.” Aiden’s head whipped around and he frowned, staring at the boy he had once called his best friend.

“What?”

“We want to date you, Aiden.” He repeated. Aiden stared at him, struggling to process exactly what he just heard. How could Changbin just say that? And so carelessly too?

“Is this some sort of sick joke?”

“No, it’s not. And if you had just given us the chance to explain everything to you before, you would have understood what happened.” Changbin told him. Aiden lowered his eyes and he sighed softly before nodding.

“Okay then. Explain.” He said, lifting his gaze to meet theirs.

“I loved you.” Felix started. “I still love you. What we had was special and I enjoyed every moment of it. But I also enjoyed my time with Changbin too. He makes me feel the same way you do. There’s a difference between you two, but I know what I feel is the same.” Felix explained.

“How? How is that possible?”

“I don’t know.” Felix said honestly, lifting a hand to run through his hair. “But you both can smile and my heart will flutter. And when you laugh I just find myself melting. When you left, I thought it would be a good time to confront Changbin about it. I figured if things went south, at least you weren’t there and caught in the middle of it.” He said. “I didn’t want you to have to choose between us.”

“Okay, so then obviously Changbin returned your feelings.” Aiden said with a raised brow.

“I did.” Changbin hummed and smiled. “And then I told him how I felt about you. And all the times we shared together.”

“Wait, you told him about that one time in your room?” Aiden asked.

“And that one time in your backyard. And all the times you called me to tell me about your fucking dreams.” Changbin laughed and Felix snickered.

“Never knew you thought about me like that though.” Felix commented. Aiden groaned and covered his face, turning his body away to try and hide from their eyes - not that it was working.

“I can’t believe this.” He whined.

Changbin laughed as he stood and scooted himself over to the other bench, taking a seat next to Aiden. Reaching out, he grabbed Aiden’s wrist and pulled them from his face, their eyes locking for an intense second before Aiden looked away. “That whole day was a mess Aiden.” He said gently.

“Which day?”

“That day.” Changbin said pointedly. “Felix and I were trying to figure out what exactly we were going to do and how to tell you we wanted a threesome relationship. You already seemed off and everything I said just made it worse.” He whispered. “We tried to come over when you got back home and you wouldn’t let us see you.”

“I’m sorry.” Aiden whispered as he pulled his hands away from Changbin and scooted further away from him, knees rising to his chest as he wrapped his arms around his legs - trying his damned hardest to make himself as tiny as possible.

“Don’t be.” Changbin’s face softened as he reached out slowly and stroked his cheek gently. “I understand but I just wish we could have talked earlier. I never would have taken Felix from you. I care too much about you both.”

“Binnie~” Aiden whined. “Don’t say that. You’re making me feel worse.”

“I’m sorry. But Aiden I just need you to understand this. It was never about cheating, or you not being enough. You were always enough. More than enough that you had two people wanting you. We still want you, if you want us.”

Aiden looked between Changbin and Felix, his heart racing within his chest so fast he thought it would burst. This wasn’t what he had imagined when he agreed to go to the fair and this explanation was certainly not what he imagined it to be. That he was the one to essentially drive them both away when all they wanted was for them to come together as three. Three people in love. And while Aiden honestly wasn’t sure what he felt for either Felix or Changbin was love, he knew they were important to him and always had been.

They held so many precious memories together and important, intimate moments that Aiden could never get back. He could never get back his first kiss from Felix. And he couldn’t get back his first handjob from Changbin. But he didn’t want them back because he didn’t regret them. They were memories he cherished and secretly he had wanted more, even through this sad and depressing time.

And now here it was, presented to him. He just had to take it.

“I-I don’t know. What if I’m not -“

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” Felix huffed as he shifted over to Aiden, squeezing himself between the wall and the boy. “You are enough. And you don’t need to be experienced in anything. Life isn’t about going into things experienced.”

“Well for the most part.” Changbin muttered.

“It’s about living and experiencing as things happen. Everyone goes in blind and they learn over time.” Felix said. “We’re all still learning. So let’s learn together, as boyfriends.” He offered, and as Aiden looked at him he could see the hope shining within Felix’s eyes. And the same warmth that had filled him the first time he had laid eyes on Felix filled him again.

“I...please.”

“Please what, Aiden?” Felix asked, cocking his head. Aiden whined softly, reaching out lightly to grab at the front of Felix’s shirt.

“I want that, please.”

Smiling lightly, Felix nodded as he leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Centimeters away, Felix’s breath ghosted over Aiden’s lips and he wanted nothing more than to feel those soft lips against his once again. “Can I kiss you?”

Nodding shyly, Aiden looked up into Felix’s eyes before letting his eyes fall close. Felix brought their lips together in a tender kiss and Aiden sighed happily, tension melting from his body. It had been so long since he had last kissed Felix and he had missed it so much. Felix brought his hand up to cup Aiden’s cheek, tilting his head up slightly as he deepened the kiss ever so slightly.

Breaking the kiss moments later, Aiden found himself opening his eyes and looking over to Changbin. It was difficult to judge his reaction - Changbin was very good at hiding his emotions when he wanted to. But the hard, stern expression faded and was replaced by a gentle smile when he realized the two were looking at him.

“This is gonna be weird.” Aiden said gently.

“Why?” Changbin asked.

“Because you’re my best friend. It’s gonna be weird kissing you.”

“I jacked your dick, how much weirder could it get?” Changbin retired and laughed.

“You’d be surprised.” Aiden shrugged, bitting at his bottom lip.

“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to be surprised.” Changbin said as he moved closer, leaning over Aiden slightly. Aiden could feel his cheeks flushing as his heart skipped a few beats. The closeness brought back the memories of all the intimate times he had with Changbin and the countless times he had told himself to never think of Changbin as anything but his friend. And now here they were, about to kiss. A dream come true.

Unlike Felix who was gentle and tender, when Changbin claimed his lips, it was rough and Aiden found himself released a harsh breath through his nose as he returned the kiss. Their lips moved, sliding together as Changbin tried to deepen the kiss. Yet Aiden pulled away before he could, a shy smile gracing his lips. “What’s wrong?” Changbin asked curiously.

“Nothing.” Aiden said quickly. “But um, I don’t think this is the best place to express our love, yeah?” He asked.

“Aw, and here I was hoping you had an exhibition kink.” Changbin pouted, laughing soon after as Aiden smacked his chest a few times. “Okay okay!” He said as he pulled back and sat up straight.

“Hey!” Felix said suddenly, grabbing Aiden’s attention as the other turned to him. “We’re at the top! Look!” He said and pointed to the window. Shifting on the bench, Aiden leaned over and looked out the window, smiling at the beautiful cityscape presented to them.

“It’s so beautiful.” He whispered, admiring the view bestowed upon them.

“Yeah.” Changbin whispered as he wrapped his arms around Aiden’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. “But not as beautiful as you.”

“Oh my god! Stop, you're so cheesy!” Aiden laughed and leaned back against the other, humming. “I love being at the top of the Ferris Wheel. It’s so pretty.” Felix nodded in agreement as he leaned back against Aiden’s side and sighed, resting his head on Aiden’s shoulder.

“Definitely the best ride here.” He said.

“Yeah, and the best way to end the night.” Aiden agreed, whining softly as the wheel started to move once more, lowering them back down.

“What do we tell the others?” Aiden asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” Changbin asked confused.

“Oh come on. You know I told the others what happened. What do we tell them, about us? Because it would take fifteen years to give them the same explanation you gave me.”

“True. I don’t know.”

“I say we tell them when we have to. Or if they ask. Otherwise, let’s just let them be.” Felix suggested. Changbin nodded in agreement and Aiden hummed. “If you think that’s best, then let’s do that.” Aiden nodded. “What are you guys doing after this?” He asked curiously.

“Going home. Wanna join?”

Aiden took a moment to think it over before nodding. “Sure! Whose house?“ “Felix’s.”

“Perfect! We can continue the MCU marathon. Legend has it, if we get to Black Panther, we get to have sex.” Aiden smirked teasingly at Changbin’s raised brow.

“Really now?” He asked and Aiden nodded.

“Okay then. Let’s get our marathon on then.”

#stray kids #skz #fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids au #skz au #stray kids fanfic au #skz fanfic au #au story #the firsts #humor #fluff #felix #changbin #changbin x oc #felix x oc #changbin x oc x felix

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madlori · 5 years ago

Text

Unveiled - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Epilogue

by MadLori Word Count: 2800 Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin Rating: NC-17 (like, heed this, please) Tags: Arranged Marriage, Modern Royalty AU, Mpreg, Not Omegaverse, No Consent Issues, Veiled Sex, Weird Traditions, Don’t Think Too Hard, Handwavey Biology

Definitely sex in this one.

Zhenya gets to know Sidney a little more, and enjoys some more intimate time with his consort.

Read it on AO3

The next day’s 3:00 p.m. appointment was just as satisfying as their first. Zhenya entered the bedchamber to find his consort waiting for him, veiled as before, except instead of sitting primly, he was already stretched out on his side, looking relaxed and even...eager. He’d reached up to help Zhenya off with his dressing gown and pulled him down to the bed. Zhenya had lain between his legs to enter him this time, pushing his thighs back against his chest to spread him wide. The consort had wrapped those thick legs around Zhenya’s waist, pulling him closer and placing his hands on Zhenya’s chest, and Zhenya had come so hard he feared the top of his head had blown off. Afterwards, he’d slid down and taken his husband’s cock in his mouth to bring him to orgasm, his hands in Zhenya’s hair, tightening into fists when he came.

Over the next few days, life began to settle into normalcy. Matters of state demanded Zhenya’s attention, but he would not hear of missing their appointments -- it certainly made an excellent excuse for getting out of boring meetings. Several times he saw his husband walking on the grounds or inside the palace, always heavily draped and always accompanied by his guards. On two occasions, those guards included his midnight snack friend Sidney, looking sharp and handsome in his uniform -- he also had a spectacular ass, Zhenya couldn’t help but notice. What was in the water over there in New Scotland that it produced so many handsome and well-proportioned men? All of his husband’s male guards were excessively pleasing to look at -- the female guards were, as well, but Zhenya took less notice of them, as they were not to his taste. The second in command of the guard, Lieutenant Letang, looked like an Instagram model.

It only whetted Zhenya’s appetite further to know what his husband looked like beneath his drapings and veils. He hoped fervently for him to conceive, so that the countdown to their embargo’s end could begin and they could anticipate his unveiling together.

---------

On the fifth day after his marriage, Zhenya went to the stables after breakfast, for no real reason other than to visit his horses and perhaps brush them, an activity he found soothing. When he arrived, he found Sidney there, standing at a stall and feeding apple slices to Lady Esther, a sweet-natured gray mare, cooing to her softly and stroking her neck. She looked quite besotted, which Zhenya could understand. Sidney looked up when Zhenya entered but did not snap to attention, merely smiled in greeting. “Good morning, Your Royal Highness,” he said.

“Good morning,” he said, mildly confused to find him there.

“I hope you don’t mind my visiting your stables,” he said. “I love horses and miss the ones I had to leave behind in New Scotland.”

“I don’t mind.” Zhenya said, picking up a brush. “I’m sure they will appreciate the extra attention.” He went into Admiral’s stall and began brushing him. “You grew up with horses?”

Sidney hesitated for a moment. “I started out working as a groom on the Duke and Duchess’s estate, that’s how I met His Highness. I was a good rider in my youth and nearly became competitive, but...it didn’t work out.”

Zhenya didn’t press the matter. “You’re welcome to ride here.”

Sidney looked up at him. “Really?”

“Of course. Except for Admiral, he is mine. All the other horses are for the use of the palace residents and staff. The grooms can advise you on which horse might suit you.” He smiled. “Lady Esther might be a little tame for your taste.”

Sidney stroked her nose. “She’s a sweetheart. That’s my taste.”

Zhenya made a quick decision. “Care to go for a ride now?”

“Could we?” Sidney said, wide-eyed.

“Sure. I have a little free time, if you have.”

“I’m not back on duty until after lunch.”

“Then let me show you my favorite trail.”

The grooms saddled Admiral and Lady Esther -- Sidney could not be dissuaded -- and they rode out towards the lake.

“It’s beautiful here,” Sidney said, after a few minutes’ silence.

“It is. I’m so used to it, it’s useful to be reminded.” He glanced over at his companion’s strong profile. “What does New Scotland look like?”

“It’s on the water, quite rocky. It has its own beauty, but here it feels...wider.”

“You miss it.”

“In a way. It’s where I was born and raised. But there comes a time when you want something new.”

Zhenya sighed. “I wouldn’t know. I am bound to this land, by blood and law. I may visit other places, but here is where I was born and where I shall die.”

They were quiet for a moment. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Why isn’t your brother the crown prince? He’s older, is he not?”

“Yes, he is. My brother was unwilling to go through the embargo. He abdicated his claim to the throne many years ago.”

“He was...unwilling?”

“He has taken a calling to orders, which disqualifies him from being King.”

“I see. And you felt no such calling?” Sidney’s voice was cautious.

“My faith is what you might call...performative.”

Sidney grinned. “A heathen King?”

Zhenya laughed. “Don’t spread that around. I respect that it’s important to many of my citizens, although I know there are many who wouldn’t care. Sometimes I feel dishonest, to go through the motions for their benefit, but I must weigh my conscience against the health of my reign.”

“But you believe in the embargo.”

“The embargo may have the trappings of a matter of devotion, but in reality it’s a practical consideration, not a religious one. It began as a sacred rite, but now it’s more a cultural practice.”

Sidney nodded. “That’s well-put.”

“My husband is more...devoted, is he not?”

He glanced at Zhenya. “What makes you think so?”

“His strict observance of the embargo.”

“As you say, the embargo is more cultural than religious.”

“So he is not? Religious?”

“You’d have to ask him, once you’re allowed. But I would say...casually? Observing the holidays, and such.”

“Ah. In that we are similar.” They rode in silence for a few minutes. “A question of my own, if I may?”

“Of course.”

“You seem very...comfortable with me. Informal, even. I don’t mind -- in fact, it’s refreshing -- but it’s not an attitude I often encounter.”

Sidney shifted in his saddle and looked away, seeming a bit uncertain how to answer. “I apologize if I presume too much on such a short acquaintance.”

“I said I didn’t object. You are not one of my subjects, after all. You report to the consort.”

“Perhaps it’s my long acquaintance with him that’s to blame. I’ve grown accustomed to a casual manner with those far above my station. He encourages such familiarity from those around him.”

“It’s been my observation that those who insist on strict etiquette and become angry when the trappings of rank aren’t observed to the letter are those who are insecure in their station, and need people to bow and scrape to them to bolster their self-image.”

Sidney laughed. “That’s your observation, eh?”

“Do you disagree?”

“Not at all, I’m just surprised to hear a Crown Prince say so. But it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve surprised me, Your Royal Highness.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke the title, and Zhenya felt a guilty flutter in his stomach. Sidney beamed a wide smile, and the flutter became a full on gut-twisting wrench -- the man had the most beautiful smile Zhenya had ever seen.

-------

The next morning, Sasha was lurking around Zhenya’s quarters, polishing shoes, while Zhenya sat reading his morning dispatches and having his tea. “You went riding with that guard yesterday,” Sasha said.

“What of it?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just...you know how tongues wag around here.”

“What is there to wag about?”

Sasha gave him an are you serious look. “He is exceedingly good-looking.”

“Is he? I hadn’t noticed.” He stared at Sasha and silently dared him to call him a liar.

Sasha just shrugged. “If you wanna fuck him, then fuck him. That guy’s a four-course meal, nobody will judge you.”

“Oh, they won’t?”

“Zhenya, you’re in an arranged marriage. Nobody in an arranged marriage is expected to give up pleasurable dalliances, or even love affairs, if any come along. Once your husband’s given you an heir, he could get his own bit on the side if he wants to.”

“A week ago, I’d have agreed with you.”

Sasha put down his shoe polish and walked over to refill Zhenya’s tea, his eyes flicking to Zhenya’s face. “This consort of yours has you rattled, doesn’t he?”

Zhenya sighed. “He’s…” He hesitated. “You know Seryhoza has been giving him all the daily dispatches and reports?”

“Yes.”

“Every afternoon I find them on my desk, covered in notes. Ideas, suggestions, even corrections. And you know what? He’s always right. I’m starting to think he should be running the country, not me.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that...well, obviously I don’t know him. But his associates are devoted to him. I’ve yet to hear a bad word spoken of him. The way he’s been with me, even in what limited contact we’re allowed…” He trailed off. “I think he must be extraordinary.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think I could love him. Perhaps we could love each other. It could be more than an arranged marriage. He’s fulfilled everything I could have asked for from an embargoed consort and more. I can’t justify throwing away that chance after less than a week because one of his guards has a brilliant smile and a spectacular ass.”

“Your consort’s ass is nothing to shake a stick at, you know.”

Zhenya smiled. “I’m saying there’s no harm in waiting until the embargo is lifted and I can get to know him properly before everyone writes off our marriage as a loveless arrangement and we get carte blanche to fuck other people.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’ll have a horrible shrill voice and it’ll be so off-putting the whole enterprise will be doomed.”

“Oh, no. He’s got a very nice voice, not shrill at all.”

Zhenya sat straight up. “You’ve heard his voice?” he exclaimed.

Sasha just looked at him like he’d grown another head. “Zhenya, you do know that the whole no-talking rule is only for you, right? He can talk to whoever else he likes, as long as you can’t hear him.”

The rub was, Zhenya did know that, but in his momentary flash of jealousy that Sasha had heard his husband’s voice, he’d forgotten himself. “Of course. I’m...yes.” He frowned. “You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Oh, God, no. That rule’s for everybody.” He stood up and took Zhenya’s breakfast tray. “I’ll be back to dress you in a bit.” He left with the tray, shutting the door behind him.

He hadn’t been gone more than ten seconds before there was a knock at the door -- not the bedroom door, but the door that led into the royal bedchamber. It could be nobody but his consort. Zhenya started to call for him to come in, then remembered himself. He got up and went to the door and opened it.

His consort was standing back a little in the usual garb he wore in this chamber -- nothing at all save his veils, the ones Zhenya was beginning to think of as his sex veils. Zhenya’s eyes slid down his toned stomach to his cock, which was semi-hard. He was a little surprised that his husband would come to him outside their scheduled appointments -- confirmed every day via messengered card just as they had been the first time -- but it was a pleasant surprise.

The consort reached out and took Zhenya’s hand, pulling him into the chamber and shutting the door after him. He began removing Zhenya’s nightclothes and leading him back to the bed. Once he’d gotten him naked and laid out on his back, he knelt next to him -- it was hard to tell behind the veils, but he seemed to be looking down at Zhenya’s face. Zhenya just waited -- clearly there was a plan here, and he’d be damned if he’d interfere with it. The consort reached out and placed his fingers over Zhenya’s eyes, gently urging him to close them. When he did, the man’s fingers pressed down a little, a clear message to keep them closed.

Zhenya lay there with his eyes shut, feeling his consort moving down the bed, the rustle of his veils moving against Zhenya’s skin, and then suddenly his warm mouth was around Zhenya’s cock. He gasped, keeping his eyes shut only with effort, and clutched at the sheets to keep from grabbing at him.

The consort tapped his hip twice; Zhenya hoped that was a sign that he could open his eyes now. He did, and saw that his husband had spread his veils over Zhenya’s hips so that he could suck him without violating the embargo. The sight was unexpectedly erotic; he could not see his partner’s mouth on him, or even see himself. All he saw was the vague shape of his head and shoulders moving beneath the veils and his hands on Zhenya’s hips. The sensations were overwhelming. He was rock hard within seconds, biting at his lips to keep quiet. The consort was tonguing at the head of his cock in between long, luxurious strokes of his mouth down his shaft. It was exquisitely torturous.

Just when Zhenya was pondering how he’d communicate to him that he’d better stop or it would be too late, the consort pulled off and knelt up over him, his veils coming with him, keeping him concealed. He shifted to straddle Zhenya’s hips and sank down on his cock, his pussy wet and grasping. Zhenya’s hands flew to his husband’s waist and pulled him down tight; the consort covered Zhenya’s hands with his own and began to move, rolling his hips in tight arcs, his stomach clenching and his own hard cock straining away from his groin. Zhenya moved one hand to stroke him and his grinding movements sped up. The consort’s breathing sped up, he arched his back, his head tipping backwards; Zhenya could only imagine what his bared throat looked like, his flushed face…

Zhenya’s eyes widened as his brain brought up an image of Sidney’s face. What would Sidney look like, in the throes of arousal, riding him like this with his head thrown back and his cock swollen and insistent in Zhenya’s hand?

He grit his teeth and refocused on the actual man fucking him right now. Not Sidney. It didn’t need to be Sidney; his consort was all he needed, all he wanted. How could he want anyone else, when he had this impossibly sexy husband who was driving him to such ecstasies?

Zhenya was determined to get him off first. He licked his palm and stroked the consort’s cock from root to tip, giving the head a little twisting flourish that he knew was very effective when he used it on himself. The consort jerked and whined, deep in his throat, and Zhenya knew he was finding it equally effective. It only took a few more strokes before he was coming all over Zhenya’s stomach. His consort’s body pulsing around Zhenya’s cock pulled his own orgasm from him and he came, straining upwards to fill him as deeply as he could. The consort sucked in a deep breath, grasped Zhenya’s hand and placed it flat and low on his belly, covering it with both of his own and pressing it firmly to him as they shuddered together.

Wetness gathered in Zhenya’s eyes as he shared the wish that his husband was expressing, their hands clasped over his belly, the hope that even now their child might have been created inside him and was already growing.

Zhenya relaxed into the bed and the consort sagged into the cradle of his hips, Zhenya’s cock still snugged tight inside him. Zhenya laced their fingers together and squeezed, hoping he got the message. The consort rested there for a moment, breathing hard, before rolling away and tucking his legs to his chest as he always did, that old wives’ tale position to help the seed reach his womb.

Zhenya rose and put his robe and pajamas back on. He put his hand over his heart and bowed slightly to his consort; he was still curled on his back on the bed, but his face was turned toward him and he answered the bow with a nod. Zhenya just wished he could see if he was smiling.

Next Chapter

#unveiled #hockey rpf #sidgeno #sidgeno fic #my writing #unveiled chapters

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can (32/40)

But then he came back and won the World Series.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: all of my thanks to all of you for reading these words and enjoying them and to @resident-of-storybrooke for reading all of these words beforehand to make sure they make sense ❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

Killian’s shoulder is stiff when he wakes up. It’s not necessarily painful which is more than good considering how it’s been for a few weeks now, but it is definitely stiff. He’s sure that it has to do with spending most of yesterday stuck in a car with the Nolans because there were photographers waiting for him at the airport, and he immediately told David to turn around because he was not going in there with vultures waiting for him like that.

That decision may as well have screwed up his shoulder that little bit more, but sitting in the safety of Mary Margaret’s SUV is probably exactly what kept his mind intact.

No one in that car asked him any questions about his dad or his injury or Milah. No one there brought up everything he’s trying to forget. It’s simply a little hard to forget it all when he was trying to watch his team’s game last night and thirty minutes was spent talking about an article that is apparently determined to take over his life.

Fuck Walsh Osborne and fuck Brennan Jones.

They deserve nothing.

All he’s trying to do is play baseball and live his life. He never wanted any of this. He never asked for any of it.

The past two days of his life have been hell, and he’s been away from it all where it couldn’t honestly and truly get to him. Killian’s been in Maine trying to have a good time with his girlfriend and her family, and he’s avoided his phone as much as possible so as to not see all of the backlash. Emma has done the same.

Of course, he did have an extremely concerned brother who was also torn apart by their shitty excuse of a father lying and finally using them for money he’s probably already gambling away. He also had Elsa and Anna worried sick. That’s not even mentioning Will and Robin or Eric and Ariel.

God, Ariel.

She’d gone absolutely ballistic. Killian doesn’t think he’s ever actually heard that many curse words come out of her mouth, but in the hour that he spent talking to her (it was pretty much fifty minutes of her talking, ten minutes of him, and that’s being generous), he learned about an entirely new side of Ariel Fisher.

Or, at least, her mouth.

She is willing to go to war for him. All of these people are, and as flattered and grateful as Killian is for that, right now he is exhausted. Simply thinking about everything that’s going on in his life is exhausting. Hell, he’s just woken up thirty seconds ago, and his brain has already focused in on these catastrophic parts of his life in the damn article and his damn shoulder.

He’ll have to do some of his exercises before he goes into the stadium to meet with Archie for his physical therapy.

Physical therapy before physical therapy. What a concept.

He’ll also have to read the press statement that Ariel has written to be released. It’s all carefully thought out and lawyer approved and absolutely everything that he doesn’t want to say. He wants to say that the people spreading lies about him are the fucking scum of the earth. Instead he has to release a statement politely stating that while he doesn’t usually give out comments on his personal life, he will say that there are parts of his past of which he is not proud but they are in the past. They are not part of his present.

There’s some shit in there about his father and how his words were untrue, but he left that part to Ariel and some of the team’s PR managers to write. Killian knows that he’s too emotional about that to say anything that is even remotely acceptable.

The one part of the statement that he carefully crafted himself is the one at the end where he states in very clear words that Emma has earned every bit of her success in her career, exemplifies the height of professionalism every day, and that insinuating that a woman has advanced in her career because of who she is dating is a form of sexism that he will not tolerate. He may have screwed up in the past when he asked her out, but he’s learning that stupid questions and games aren’t always okay no matter how well-intended they are. Other people should learn too.

That’s all that he cares about the world knowing. They can think all kinds of shit about him and his past and what he did to his father, but they’re not going to get to think that Emma has slept her way up the ladder.

There’s no way in hell.

Slowly, Killian moves to sit up in bed, the covers barely draped over his waist, and starts doing a few short movements with his arm. Emma is still asleep on her side of the bed, nearly all of the blanket bunched around her, and he has to be careful not to wake her up. She is not a fan of being woken up for anything other than food or sex. And sometimes not even those two.

(She always wakes up for food.)

He pads out of his bedroom and down the hallway to the room where he keeps his gym equipment. It’s supposed to be a spare bedroom, but since he already has one of those, he didn’t see the point in having two when he has more use for a bit of a personal gym. Slipping into his sneakers and tying the laces, Killian gets dressed to go for his morning jog. He’s still half asleep, is still wearing the sweatpants that he slept in, but this is going to have to work. He turns on the television so that he has something to distract himself, finding whatever morning show that it is that airs for what seems like ten hours a day, and then he starts a slow jog to try to loosen himself up a little bit.

And to make himself forget.

Focusing on the different ways that his body aches and on the way that he’d rather be in bed usually keeps his mind off of everything else that’s in there fighting for dominance.

Nothing like killing himself with exercise to calm himself down.

It’s an hour run, no more and no less, and sweat is dripping down his entire body by the time that he’s finished. Killian has to towel himself down, wiping away the sweat from his chest and his back before running the cloth through his hair. His shoulder is still stiff, so he picks up the free weights and runs through a few repetitions until he knows that he can’t push himself any further.

In the past, Killian has always pushed himself past his limits, especially when his mind is the one attacking him, but he can’t do that anymore. That’s how he ends up in situations like this.

That and lying his ass off about the kind of pain he’s in.

By the time he finishes exercising, the sun has risen outside, sunshine shining brightly through the glass windowpanes. Having such large windows everywhere is great until he has a bit of a headache and needs a large cup of coffee, about a gallon of water, and something to eat.

Water. He desperately needs water right now. And food.

Killian takes off his socks and shoes and wanders into the kitchen, fixing himself a glass of cold water to drink before making himself some oatmeal. It’s not really what he wants, but it will have to do for this morning. He’ll eat something more filling in the clubhouse.

Soft hands wrap around his stomach, gentle fingers trailing up and down the hair on his chest, and Killian can feel Emma pressing into him and nuzzling her nose in between his shoulder blades. He smiles and puts his spoon back in the bowl on his countertop before placing his hand over both of hers and patting against his abs. Her lips are smooth when they press against his skin in response.

“I thought this a few days ago,” she mumbles, and he can practically hear the sleepy smile in her voice, “but I’m incredibly happy with my life choices right now.”

“And why’s that, love?”

“You’re really damn hot.”

Killian snorts, unable to help himself, and chalks up the heat in his cheeks to him still being warm from exercise. “And by that you mean incredibly sweaty and gross from my workout.”

Emma hums against his skin and tightens her arms around his stomach. “You know, that is exactly what I was trying to say.”

“I thought so. How’d you sleep?”

“Really good actually.” She kisses his back once more before releasing him and stepping around to the side so that he can see her rumpled hair and the way that the t-shirt she’s wearing is falling off of her shoulder. Emma hops up onto the counter, something she’s been doing a lot lately in the mornings, and lets her legs dangle. There are red pillow marks against her cheek. “Your bed is about a million times more comfortable than the one at Ruth’s. I think it hurt my back.”

Killian chuckles and moves to take another bite of his oatmeal before the remaining bit gets cold. “So, you turn twenty-eight in a month, and you’re already preparing to be an old woman. I like that you’re ahead of the game.”

“Twenty-eight is in no way old. Plus, you’re, like, nine months older than me, so you’re not allowed to ever call me old.”

“Nine months is not a long time.”

“Tell that to a pregnant woman.”

“True,” Killian admits, scooping up some more oatmeal. “Do you want something to eat before you go get ready for work?”

“Not hungry.”

“You are always hungry in the morning, Swan.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “There’s a first time for everything.”

The pieces click together in Killian’s mind, and he sighs before stepping in between her legs and reaching his hands up to push all of her stray hairs behind her ears so that he can look into the emerald of her eyes. “So, you’re nervous then?”

“Nope.”

“Emma.”

“I’m nervous as hell,” she admits. That didn’t take much coaxing. “I don’t think…I mean, no one is going to say anything to me. I’m almost sure of it, especially because the only people I’m working with today are Ruby and Jeff and the guys…but I feel like.” She sighs, and he runs his thumb over the apple of her cheek to get her to look back up at him. “I feel like I’m going to have to start over again.”

“You’re not going to have to start over.”

Emma nods her head and leans her cheek into his palm while her eyes close, blonde lashes landing against freckles. “I know. I’m just – I never got to have anything that was simply mine until I was older. I always had to share everything, if there was anything to share. But my work: that has always been mine. Having to deal with people trying to take that away from me is terrifying.”

“No one,” he starts, tapping his thumb, “is taking your job away from you. Are the comments you’re inevitably getting going to suck? Yes. But they’re not true. You know they’re not true, and I know they’re not true. My Emma is too strong to let the words of some misogynistic assholes bring her down.”

She chuckles and opens her eyes before leaning forward and pressing her forehead against his. Her lips brush over his, nothing more than the lightest of fleeting kisses, but her lips never leave his long enough for him to feel her falling away. Emma’s hands ghost over his neck until they’re landing on his shoulders, nails digging into skin, and her lips start moving over his in a slow, lazy kiss that has him tasting the mint of her toothpaste and feeling the warmth of her tongue.

Killian hums into it, tilting his head to the right to deepen the kiss, and Emma’s hands pull him closer into her while the hairs on his arms stand at attention. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of kissing her, not like this. And not when her lips trail along his jaw and down his neck, tongue flat against his pulse.

“Darling, as much as I want you, and trust me, I always want you, we don’t have time.”

“I have time,” she mumbles.

“Aye, you do, but what I have in mind takes two of us.”

Laughter passes through Emma’s lips as she pulls back from him, and Killian immediately misses the warm press of her lips. “I’m going to go take a shower in the guest room because I think I’m going to need you to drive me to work.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because there’s a hell of a lot of photographers outside your apartment, and the only way out of here without me punching a camera is through the garage.”

“For fucks sake,” Killian groans, stepping out of Emma’s legs and walking over to the kitchen window to look at the small mass of people waiting outside his apartment. “I’m a baseball player. I literally throw a ball for a living. It’s not that interesting.”

“So, you’ll drive me then?”

“Yeah, Swan. I will. I’ve got to leave in thirty minutes so be quick.”

-/-

A few teammates and managers are in the clubhouse when Killian walks through, and while the room does quiet a bit when he initially walks in, everything goes back to normal as Killian goes through his locker, most of his gear untouched for two weeks now. He’s been here a few times, not every day like he usually is, but it’s still odd to show up for physical therapy and strength training while not actually playing.

His teammates rely on him, and yet he is a bit of a mess right now. They probably all are too. Their lives simply aren’t splashed across the pages of tabloids and on Instagram. He hasn’t seen most of it, all of the apps shut down on his phone, but Ruby has been keeping track and talking to Emma about it.

It’s…a lot.

And everyone now knows more about him than he ever wanted them to.

But it’s fine. It has to be fine. He’s simply here to have his shoulder worked on, and nothing else is going to bother him. He hopes Emma’s day goes much the same. Honestly, that’s what he’s most nervous about especially with how nervous she was this morning and on the car ride over. Her leg never stopped fidgeting.

Today is a huge game with the play-offs being on the line, but he’s not going to still be around the stadium this afternoon. He thought about it and wanted to be there, still kind of wants to, but just being in the locker room today is a little overwhelming. Plus, he doesn’t want to make today any harder on Emma by having her have to interact with him at work. He’ll be around for all of the other big moments to give awful hope-induced speeches and celebrate in the post-game high. Today, he’ll simply watch in the comfort of Liam’s home.

“Oi,” Will greets, slapping Killian’s back. “How was Maine?”

“Fine.”

“Did you impress Emma’s mom?”

Killian almost corrects Will, but he knows it’s not necessary. “I mean, besides her learning about all of my dirty laundry, I do think she genuinely liked me.”

“Well, if she can get past all of that, you’re golden, ponyboy.”

He laughs and rolls his eyes, looking over to Will and the big cheesy smile on his face. “I mean, you got past all of that and are still joking around with me.”

Will shrugs his shoulders. “We’ve all got shit going on in our lives, but my face isn’t handsome enough for me to be a celebrity outside of baseball. I’m just good at my job all on my own.”

Killian reaches out to punch Will’s shoulder but he dodges it, sticking his tongue out. “Asshole.”

“Pretty much. Can you practice with me today?”

“Nah, not today. My doctor’s appointment is in two weeks for him to check up on my arm. I might get to come back then, so you guys better clench the playoff’s spot today so that I can finish this season out on the right note.”

“I’ll try my hardest. Keep your chin up, Jones. You’re prettier that way.”

-/-

Killian works with Archie on his arm for an hour before doing some more strength conditioning for his core, and by the time he’s out of the clubhouse and the locker room, it’s nearly two in the afternoon.

A part of him wants to go see Emma and check on her since the game won’t start for another hour and she’s been here for as long as he has, but he knows that today of all days, he might as well leave her alone while she’s working. They haven’t talked about how they want to interact around the team quite yet, mostly because he isn’t technically back to work, but also because in the three days since his life has blown up, all he’s done is talk. He’s a bit tired of it.

They’ll discuss it later.

For now, he texts her to have a good game before walking through the tunnels to the garage and getting into his car to head back to Midtown so that he can pick Addy and Lucy up from their school.

Uncle of the Year, obviously.

Twenty-five minutes later, he’s pulling into the parking lot of their elementary school, thankful that no one seems to be following him, and slamming his car door shut to walk up the front pathway of the school and pressing the buzzer to the front door to get in. it doesn’t matter how many times he picks them up, the front office secretary always seems to forget who he is.

“Name,” she says through the speaker.

“Killian Jones.”

“Who are you here to pick up?”

“Addison and Lucy Jones.”

It takes a few seconds, and he’s sure that she’s typing in their information. “You’re not one of their parents.”

“Aye, I know,” he sighs, rolling his eyes a bit. “I’m their Uncle. My name is on their approved list. It’s – ”

“Oh, I see you now, Mr. Jones,” she interrupts like clockwork. “I’m buzzing you in. Please wait in the lobby, and the girls will be brought to you.”

Killian nods his head and opens the door after it clicks. Addy and Lucy usually have their nanny pick them up from school since Liam and Elsa are at work, but in the few times he’s done it, he’s quickly learned the routine. He knows that their teacher is currently standing under an awning on the other side of the school with all of the children who are being released to their regularly scheduled guardians, and the teacher’s aide will be the one to bring the girls to him at the front of the school. It always takes about five minutes, and sure enough, after a little over four minutes, he sees two blonde heads of hair come into his view, their backpacks nearly as large as they are.

Out of instinct, he squats down to their level because he knows they’re about to tackle him with an embrace. Sure enough, they do, and Killian swears that his heart grows three sizes like he’s the damn Grinch.

“Why weren’t you at dinner last night?” Addy immediately asks him in leu of a hello.

“I was in Maine. Do you know where Maine is?”

“Nope.”

Killian grabs both of their hands, squeezing Lucy’s a little tighter, and the leads them out the front door so that they can walk toward the parking lot to his car.

“Maine is another state, like New York, and it’s where Emma was born. I spent my weekend there with her.”

“Where is Emma?” Lucy asks.

“She’s at work.”

“Why aren’t you at work?”

Isn’t that the question?

“I hurt my shoulder, Luce. Remember?”

She nods her head.

“Is Emma coming to dinner tonight?” Addison asks him as he opens the back door to his car and lets her climb across to the booster seat that he had to put in his car this morning.

“She’s supposed to, but she might be a little late.”

The girls continue to ask him questions about Emma. Their brains never cease to stop coming up with new ones, and it honestly makes him laugh that they’re so interested in what she’s doing and where she is. It only stings the slightest bit that every time they see him, all they truly care about is seeing Emma.

Then again, that’s exactly how he is too.

They ask for ice cream, and while he would usually stop, Killian is under strict instructions from Elsa not to give them sweets since they’re having some with dinner tonight. So, ever the bearer of bad news, he has to tell them no as they drive through the city on the way to their house. Traffic is surprisingly good, especially for the time of day, but they don’t have to travel far until he’s pulling into the garage and helping the girls grab their things to go inside.

In the ten minutes that they were in the car, they somehow managed to lose all four of their shoes, a hair bow, and Lucy’s favorite stuffed animal.

Just amazing. Honestly.

Killian fixes the two of them a snack, slicing up an apple and some peanut butter, before giving them glasses of water and listening to them both go into very detailed instructions about their days. Addy is obviously more talkative, but they used water colors in Lucy’s preschool class today and the girl is hyped over them.

Seriously. He doesn’t think she has ever been so excited about anything. She may very well be taking after her grandmother in the artistic skills department.

For the next hour, he helps Addy through her few assignments so Liam and Elsa don’t have to deal with it when they get home, but then they’re finished with all of that (thank goodness because getting a six-year-old to focus on school when she’s just left school is damn difficult), and he’s able to turn on the game.

It’s the bottom of the third, and both teams are still scoreless. Arthur is currently up to bat, and while he makes Killian’s jaw clench, he’s a damn good baseball player who they need. You simply can’t win everything.

“Are we winning?” Addy asks before she crawls up next to him and cuddles into his side.

“Not yet, little love.”

“It’s because you’re not playing. They’re not as good without you.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” he sighs, having to bite back his laugh. “We’re a team. They need all of us to be good.”

“Yeah, but you’re the best.”

“You only think that because I’m your uncle.”

“Maybe. All of my friends think you’re cool except for Billy who likes the Red Sox.”

She shifts against him and Lucy does the same, and he swears their elbows are the sharpest objects on the planet. Arthur’s bat makes contact with the pitch, and it flies to the outfield only to be caught and end the inning. Damn. They had two people on base. That could have been huge. The camera changes from the field to Emma where she’s standing just outside the dugout holding a microphone in her hand talking about how today’s game can officially clench their playoff spot. They’re going to make it. All they have to do is win one of their next ten games, and even then, they’d still qualify based on how everyone else in the league is doing.

He’d kind of like to be the number one seed going in, though.

“Do you and Emma have any babies?”

What the hell?

Killian blinks several times before looking down at Addison, who doesn’t seem to realize what she’s just said. She’s simply looking at the television screen still watching Emma.

“No, sweetheart,” he stutters out, “we don’t have any babies.”

“Why not?”

“Um, because it’s not time for us to have babies yet. Babies are loud and messy, and they smell bad, you know? I think it’ll still be a few years before Emma and I have any babies.”

Holy shit. Did he just say that?

How does he get out of this conversation?

“Okay,” Addy shrugs. “I’m going to brush my teeth. They feel fuzzy.”

At that, she gets up from the couch and moves to walk away. Okay, so that’s how he gets out of that conversation.

Kids are so damn weird.

Each inning in the game seems to go on for more than forever, the outs slow to come for each team, and the Yankees finally score in the bottom of the sixth with Booth’s single. It’s a relief, even if there is still a lot of game to be played, but Killian gets distracted by it all when Elsa and Liam walk through their garage door and there’s a bit of chaos with the girls immediately having to tell their parents everything they’ve already told him about their day.

Including the fact that he and Emma don’t have any babies. That gets him quite the look from Liam. Eventually, though, Elsa moves the girls to the kitchen, leaving him with a not-so-subtle wink. She’s very obviously giving he and Liam time to talk, and as much as he appreciates that, Killian also doesn’t want to talk anymore. He wants to lay on this couch and watch this game and not do anything else.

Liam obviously has other ideas.

“I have been contacted by no less than fifteen people today asking me to give my statement or appear on one of those inane morning shows to tell, and I quote, ‘my side of the story.’ It simply makes me wonder how many of these shows Brennan has offers to be on.”

Killian scoffs. “I imagine all of the seedy ones, but I don’t think he’ll do it.”

“No?”

“No.” Killian crosses his legs over each other and props his hands behind his head. “I’ve thought about it a hell of a lot, and I think he did this to hurt us more than the money. Walsh couldn’t have paid him that much. He doesn’t make much money. And it’s not as if there were a lot of details. If he wanted money, he would have gone to a bigger publication. Maybe he’ll do that if there’s enough interest, but I think it was more about hurting me.”

“Do you really think he’s that petty?”

Killian arches a brow. “Brennan Jones? We’re talking about the same man, aren’t we? Of courseOf course , he’s that petty. He only cares about himself. Always has. That’s not going to change.”

Liam sighs and taps his fingers against the wood of the side table. “How are you handling things?”

“Just peachy, thanks.”

“Killian.”

“What?” he sighs, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can actually look at Liam. “I’m pissed. I’m upset. I’m angry. There are so many emotions swirling around in my head that I can’t even keep track of how I feel. And there’s nothing I can actually do about it, you know? The damn thing has spread like wildfire, and I can’t stop it. My statement can’t stop it either. The only real option that I have is possibly suing that bastard for libel, and all that will do is drag both Emma and me into a legal battle that’s simply not worth fighting.”

Liam doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing to be said. They hashed all of this out over the phone. Killian ranted before Liam took his turn. Brennan deserves absolutely no space in either of their minds, but he manages to find it anyways. It is exactly the thing that has fire burning in the pit of Killian’s belly.

“I’m going to be fine,” Killian says to fill the silence that the sounds of the baseball game on the television aren’t filling. “You will be fine. Emma too. It’s just…I hate that it happened, but I can’t change it. I can’t change it, and I can’t fix it. Hopefully things will calm down as the days pass. I imagine that once I start playing again, this will simply be a footnote.”

“You know,” Liam begins, “a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.”

Killian can’t help but roll his eyes. He’s heard that line a few times before, and it’sit’s always so damn pompous no matter how true it is.

“Yeah, well, the only thing I’m currently willing to fight for is the woman on that TV screen right there. She’s sticking by me because she loves me, and I am not dragging her through the mud anymore.”

“I think I’d likely do the same.”

“I know you would.”

“Daddy,” Lucy screeches as she runs into the room, loose curls escaping her braid and framing her face, “Mommy says that you have to come and put the steaks on the grill outside.”

“Well,” Liam starts as he stands and walks over to Lucy to pick her up and rest her on his hip, “if Mommy says so, then I guess I must.”

The two of them leave the room, and Killian is left to his own thoughts once more. One day, his life won’t be this complicated. It will be complicated in other, different ways, but it won’t be complicated quite like this. One day he will be carrying his own child on his hip, hopefully one he’s had with Emma, and all of the struggles of the day will be put so far in the past that he barely remembers them.

There’s a loud cheering coming from the TV, and Killian twists his head to look at Will running around the bases after hitting a home run.

“Damn, Scarlet,” he mutters under his breath with a smile on his face.

That smile grows a little more when the camera pans to his entire team jumping up and down in excitement, practically shaking the entire stadium. The shiver that runs over Killian’s body makes him feel like he’s there.

God, he’s missed the feeling of being a part of the team like that.

He’s missed playing.

But he’s going to get back to it soon. He has to. His arm is going to get better and be better.

Emma comes onto screen then, a beatific smile on her face that causes his to grow too. “Well,” she starts, laughing at something off screen, “it looks like we’re going to the playoffs.”

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan

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sartorialatlantan · 4 years ago

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Silver Lining and A Brief Backstory

Whether you’re an optimist or not, anyone, even if only in hindsight, can see the silver lining of a bad situation, circumstance or series of events. When I was 20 years old I ended a three-year relationship with my first serious girlfriend. We had met at 17 or so and it was your classic teenage love story. We were young and foolish and led by a shared faith in evangelical Christianity that I would eventually and happily abandon. We had convinced each other and ourselves that it was ordained by god that we came together and that when the time was right we would get married. To add insult to injury we told nearly everyone we knew about our plans at all of 18 years old, so naturally the sting of embarrassment came with the sting of separation. I don’t need to, nor do I care to go into details of our breakup or what brought it about, but this tiny bit of back-story is crucial to understand the silver lining that would follow. Now that I’m saying it out loud, to call what followed a silver lining doesn’t even really cut the mustard, what followed was the absolute best thing that’s ever happened to me.

It’s safe to assume that anyone reading this has been through a breakup, maybe even safe to assume a bad one or two. We all know how down in the dumps, miserable and depressed and isolated and totally alone you feel when you separate from someone you were literally saying, “I love you” to not one day ago. It’s an awful place to be, whether you’re 20 or 35 or 50 etc. it’s just plain awful. And I imagine it’s existentially worse the older you get because of the looming fear that you’ll be too old to meet someone else before the clock stops. While that may be true at 78, the irrational brain of an 18 or 20 year old will tell them the same thing. So in the wake of my adolescent breakup I drank, a lot. I took up smoking and heavy drinking and gave up on the idea of partnering with someone ever again. Some of this ridiculous thinking goes back to the Christian thing, and apologies now if you take offense so some of what I say about that faith. When you’re 20, and for the last 3-4 to years you not only thought, but believed at your bible thumping core that you were paired with someone else by gods own hand and it ends, well to put it plainly you A. start doubting that there even is a god or B. find it impossible to understand why god would start something and end it. Now in hindsight, it’s really a mixture of A and B and I also now realize that if god is real, his most famous creation to date (us) has a beginning and an ending. It’s also very easy to religiously rationalize everything to fit your made up narrative, kind of like biblically cherry picking in reverse.

I’m not going to go into my exiting the church and Christian faith altogether, that would be too far removed from the topic at hand, but I will say that when I left it, and truly let go of it mentally, it was the most calming and freeing feeling I had had at that point. All it took was squarely asking myself, practically in a mirror, “do your really believe in this, do you REALLY believe in ANY of this?” When I answered “no” I felt a combination of grief and relief; on the one hand I was letting go of what had been the norm to that point and on the other I was free from what rabbi’s refer too as “a wrestling match with god”, and that freedom felt better than any made-up wave of holy spirit baptism ever had. Bottom line, if you’re an evangelical and truly believe that you have a private, gibberish love language with god, don’t mock what the Mormons believe, it’s just as ridiculous. I knew too many Christians in those days who couldn’t see that irony. Some still can’t.

Now back to the story. There I was broken hearted and feeling like life was over at 20, it was time to grow a beard and become a wandering nomad. Maybe I’ll get a motorcycle and seek out an outlaw gang and just ride til' I die. Maybe I’ll head up the east coast and get a job on a boat out of New England. Really all of my ideas involved my look first, and occupation second. Anything involving hand tattoos and a long matted beard would’ve sufficed. But then, some time passed and I would eventually turn 21, which opened up a whole new world, the bar scene. Now, still in the throws of depression, single and not loving it, I proceeded to the bar scene with a new drinking friend named Will in the East Atlanta Village. We drank and socialized all over the village, almost every night too, to excess. We were not, living, laughing or loving as the girls touting faux happiness, post break-up say in their Facebook statuses. There was the Graveyard Tavern, a very large dive bar with something akin to a dance floor and a pool table area. Then the Glenwood that at the time had a horror/cult movie theme down to movie posters laminated under the tabletops. There was My Sisters Room and Mary’s, a lesbian bar and gay bar, separated by a side street and Grant Park Pizza. Then you came to the 5 Spot, which was a dive bar and punk music venue, then across the street from there was the Flatiron, which was the shape you’re picturing. It sat below 13 Roses Tattoo, which for that era in my opinion was the best shop in town. If you took a hard left from there you could walk up to The Earl, a dive bar with pretty damn good food and a solid standing room only music venue in back. And lastly across from there was The East Side Lounge, the perfect spot if you wanted to do cocaine while watching Predator 2 on the TV over the bar. I never did cocaine, but everyone in town knew that’s where you went to score some, or to watch Predator 2 while drinking $2 PBR on draught.

This little village was our spot for nearly a full calendar year, Will and I rarely took anyone else along, because no on else was as equally miserable as us and who needs positive company when you’re binging cheap beer pitchers and smoking a whole pack of cigarettes in one night? Now, to be clear, it was always to the two of us but we were making the attempt, occasionally, to meet women. 20 something, tattooed, smoking, drinking, most likely cocaine doing, women who were 100% not interested; we were suburb boys and you could practically smell it on us, and these were city chicks, with sleeve tattoos, hidden piercings and a palpable hate for their fathers. Maybe I’m adding that last part for effect, but you get the idea. Now that said, in that time span I did manage to meet and get to know a girl or two, I think Will did too but nothing ever really stuck.

Now I’m going to back up, but keep in mind this was all happening by night, most nights of the week, but by day I was still working at the same place I am now, didn’t love it then still not crazy about it today, but that’s a whole other topic. Some days after work, before Will and I would venture to East Atlanta I would go meet up with this piano player I had been introduced to by a former band mate who needed a guitar player capable of on-the-fly melodic riffs to accent his songs. In the band I had been in before, that was literally all I did, so we were a good fit. He would play his latest song for me a few times through headphones and then I’d start “noodling” as they say until I landed on some solid melodic hooks to overlay on what he had already recorded. We had a solid system, and he paid me in pizza and beer and we could smoke cigarettes in the studio. Just for a brief tangent, you have to smoke inside in these situations. If you and your fellow musicians are trying to accomplish something in the studio, but you’re walking outside every 20 minutes to have a dart you’ll never get anything done. So I would listen and noodle and drink and smoke and eventually eat. Once I tapped into a riff he liked we’d build on it together, shape it, shorten it, lengthen it, whatever it needed, then we’d lay it down and repeat. This was a regular thing for me a couple times a week. It went like this, get up, go to work, leave, go home grab my gear, head to the garage studio, record, smoke, eat, drink, leave, drop off the gear, grab Will, and be in the Village by 10pm or so. Then we’d stay til' last call, go home, shower, sleep, wake up, repeat. If you’re doing the math, yes I was driving most of the time, it was stupid and reckless and I’m not proud of it and it was over a decade ago lets just leave it at that and drop it. There’s no one to make amends to for anything from those days, other than a few girls that I probably drunkenly intimidated buy hitting on them too much. Anyways, this was the pattern for the better part of 20 to 21. Now, cut back to my Jesus-y girlfriend from the beginning of the story. To the best of my knowledge she was off in a new circle of friends, living and laughing and loving and meeting new people and I knew for a fact she was dating around. Through this new circle of friends she would eventually meet Kristen, and if you know me, then you know my wife’s name is Kristen, yes the very same Kristen. Kristen was 26 at the time, recently divorced from a total dipshit, we’ll leave it at that, and she too was socializing with a new circle of friends.

To help you keep up with the wild web of who begat who, at this point in time, if I hadn’t separated with my girlfriend when I did a year prior, she wouldn’t have started dating who she did and met the string of people who would eventually introduce her to Kristen, my wife today. Now, for her privacy I won’t name my high school girlfriend so for the story we’ll call her Jane. Jane and Kristen and a large circle of churchy band kids all became friends, though only briefly. Kristen being newly single was introduced to some guys via this circle and Jane specifically introduced her to guy named Steven, possibly to date, though I don’t think they ever did. That said, Kristen and Steven formed a friendship and Kristen soon after parted ways with Jane and the churchy band kids because they were all just A. a little too Jesus-y and B. more than immature to say the least. Now I was peripherally aware of a lot of this via Facebook, doing the creepy ex thing. I didn’t know Kristen, but I had seen her in some photos and she had a killer Audrey Hepburn ribcage tattoo, still does obviously.

So, Kristen and Steven are friendly and attend some of the same bars and house parties and she’s out in the world dating and doing her thing. Kristen would eventually meet Steven’s newest girlfriend, Amy. Amy and Kristen became fast friends and were practically joined at the hip. Kristen and Amy were partying, dive bar hopping, nightclub dancing best friends. Meanwhile, just to take you back to my reality at the same time, I was grumpy binge drinking with Will somewhere in the East Atlanta Village. Now, here’s where it gets fun. Amy has a brother named Chad, who at that time was in a band, Chad worked at a little café/bar with a certain piano player, yes, you guessed it, the one I was working with that year. Now through this maze of people Kristen would eventually meet the same piano player and it would be an understatment to say she was into him. One night I’m in the studio with him and we’re sort of half working, half chatting and he starts telling me about this girl he’s kind of seeing and her Audrey Hepburn tattoo. It was one of those small world funny moments, because I knew who he was talking about from my Facebook stalking, and I knew she was hot, no naturally I was envious. Some time later, he would invite me and Will and Kristen and Amy to watch a band play at the previously mentioned Earl in the East Atlanta Village, I knew it well. This is where I would meet Kristen and where our relationship would ultimately begin. I could write another 6 dozen paragraphs on our early dating relationship and how it all went and maybe I will at some point, but the point of this very long-winded essay is about the silver linings of a bad situation. Now to call this love story and how I would eventually meet my wife that I would have two beautiful and amazing daughters with a silver lining to a high school breakup would be borderline insulting. But realize, at 21, now nearly 22, I was still miserable and alone and thought I would be forever. Then along comes Kristen. Now to recap, I split with Jane, became a miserable person while Kristen was divorcing her first husband from college that she really only married to piss off her parents. Kristen would eventually meet Jane, who would introduce her to Steven, who introduced her to Amy who introduced her to the piano player, who she was infatuated with for a brief moment, who introduced her to me. We’re separated by 6 years in terms of age, come from completely different backgrounds and other than this small cluster of people, had no one in common between us. In a very long-winded, round about way, I owe my heartbreaking high school girlfriend a thank you. I had to experience a terrible breakup, the kind where you don’t ever talk again, go through a shitty, drunken, depressing year and ultimately give up on having any semblance of a happy life to meet my wife, and everything changed after that. I didn’t go to college, I had a small circle of friends and most of them avoided the city. It took this wild culmination of events and people I’ve never met to bring Kristen and I together.

You might be saying that story’s not all that compelling, things like that happen all the time, and you’re not entirely wrong, but that said, I still think there’s something special about it.

The year 2020 has shown me a lot about myself. Once quarantine started I quickly learned how unimportant clothes were. Take a moment to catch your breath. I still love tailoring and will absolutely wear dress clothes again, but when you’re staring down a pandemic, drape and tie space just become less of a concern and are quickly replaced with stocking up of frozen goods and day drinking. I’ve spent the majority of 2020 in Vans and golf polo’s, and I don’t hate it. In this time I’ve found a new passion for the game of golf, I’ve cooked new things, in the early days of lock down I got creative with my photography in ways that wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been home all day. I don’t think any of us knows when this nonsense will be over, 2020 might be entirely wrapped in Covid and it might even bleed into 2021, and by then, most of the world might’ve had it. I know that I don’t want it, and if I am to get it I hope to the god I don’t believe in that it’s mild.

When your 6 year old asks if you’re going to be alive when they’re a grown up in the middle of a pandemic it stings, because the reality is I can’t promise her I’ll be alive tomorrow, let alone 20 years from now, so I lie. And when you lie like that to a child you lie big, I tell her I’ll always be alive, that way we snuff out all worry in her little 6-year-old mind, because those wheels are constantly turning. I was burdened with the reality of death at 4 years old, seeing my 19-year-old cousin dead in a coffin after a motorcycle accident. I will shield the reality of death from my kids as long as possible. Life’s stressful enough already, no reason to start the trauma early. I blame that funeral at 4 almost entirely on my hypochondria. I’m that guy, who feels a leg pain and assumes it’s a blood clot bound for my heart. A pain or weird feeling in my side must be cancer. Naturally the rise of Covid has not been kind to this sick part of my brain. As I write I feel funny, the way you feel when you sleep too long and your limbs feel numb, I’m also hoarse from over doing it with a vaporizer recently trying to relax with a little THC. So naturally the weird feelings and throat tickle are Covid in my mind. If you don’t have anxiety, count yourself lucky.

The thing I keep trying to remind myself of is that it won’t last forever. Time literally fixes everything. It took time to get over being broken up with at 20 and even more time for the stars to align and bring Kristen and I together. It will take time for Covid to sweep the world and end and time further still for the powers that be to develop a safe vaccine. It will take time for society to feel comfortable going out mask-less again; it will take time for supermarkets to feel safe enough to take down all the plexi-glass at the checkout. It will all take time and in the end, if we’re lucky, we’ll see the silver linings that came out of it. New interests, new jobs, new relationships, etc. If I hadn’t found my passion for menswear I would not have eventually reignited my passion for photography. If the quarantine hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have done all the self-portraits I did that ultimately inspired a Hunter S. Thompson theme that lead to my newfound love and interest in golf. The new interest in golf led to new ways to spend time and bond with my in laws and my own family. It’s also the first form of physical activity I’ve done in nearly a decade; all good things.

The only thing I’ve never really been able to draw a connect-the-dots of positively around is my job. I’ve done the same thing for 13 years and I’ve never liked it. It has afforded me the opportunity to do things at times, and the schedule has always been flexible around my personally needs, but I’ve never really liked being here. As I write I’m sitting in an office that I’d rather not be in. If I were single and not a parent I would've left long ago. But the stability of this place and the paycheck keep me here. I’d much rather be taking photos for brands, submitting to publications etc. but there’s way to much financial risk in that. The time for that kind of seat-of-your-pants living is in your 20’s, when you’re a renter with no kids. If I could take photos, write, travel, golf, eat and drink for a living you‘d never hear a complaint. Kristen and I often talk about what we’d do with millions to distract ourselves from what we don’t have, and the stress of the day. She works in a very unforgiving retail environment, more unforgiving now with a pandemic on the rise again in our state. I work in print, for my father. A dying industry with a parent as my superior, what could possibly go wrong? We get along 9 days out of 10, but day 10 is always noteworthy. We bend over backwards for our customers, though I don’ think they care. We once had a 20 years long client say they were thinking about switching to another printer, just to shake things up. This after 20 years of late shifts, miracle timing and total and complete ass kissing. That day I learned, that quality service only matters to a select few, the rest just want to see the bill.

So that’s 2020 so far, new interests popping up, old interests taking a back seat, looking to the past to see the greatness that came out of dark times, hoping the future is as bright as today is, compared to the depths of despair I found myself in at 20. Still thinking there is no god but hopeful for an afterlife of some kind, wondering if there is a god why he’s letting old people who literally hang his picture in their dining rooms suffocate from a wet market virus that our leadership dubbed a hoax in the beginning…I will not go on a political tangent... By the time 2020 wraps I hope to be alive and well, I hope that everyone I know is alive and well too. I hope that Kristen finally lands herself a job in UX, she graduated from her UX academy in March and so naturally the job market has been slim pickings. Beyond that, I hope to find myself doing something other than what I do now at some point. When I dwell for too long about how many hours of my life I’ve spent folding booklets for people who are ultimately going to throw them away I feel myself reaching for the bottle. Bottom line, things aren’t great now, but I hope they get better. The funny thing about that is, according to Buddhists, it’s the act of wanting something, which causes suffering in the first place. So maybe the answer for the shit storm we’re all in today lie’s in the Buddhist teachings. I’m not about to proselytize Buddhism, but what I do know is the first truth as they call it is basically, that “suffering exists” and the second truth is that “desires and ignorance cause the suffering”. So it could be a major over simplification for our current state of affairs, but maybe if we stop wanting a better today and just accept today for what it is, we’ll all suffer a little less. Because whether we’re here for it or not, the sun will rise again and set again. The earth will turn and everything that is happening today will happen again tomorrow. Time fixes everything, and we can’t control it. So pray, meditate, work, golf or buy a motorcycle and head to the nearest New England port and join a boat crew, there’s no telling what kind of crazy we’re all going to wake up to from one day to the next, so to end on a cliché, make the most of today and try focus on the positive, maybe the stars will align and when it all shakes loose, you’ll meet your Kristen.

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