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ao3theskyisblue · 3 years

Text

Counting Time

Summary:

“Son.”

TK lifts his head slowly from where he had been tracing mindless shapes onto Carlos’ hand to stare up at Gabriel blankly. His soon-to-be father-in-law was smiling at him kindly, but TK could see the way it wavered.

“You should get some rest."

"I'm fine."

Written for Day 5 of @911lonestarangstweek : Recovery + “The only person I need right now is you.”

(A continuation from the little uh...je ne sais quoi on Day 3)

Read on AO3

There are 10,537 dots on the ground.

12.5 per tile, with an occasional special individual sporting 14.

All those were approximate guesses, his eyes never straying away too long from how they were glued on to the person lying supine – and so still – on the hospital bed. Though, he hasn’t moved much himself.

The two times he had was when the heart monitor picked up speed before settling down, and each time TK felt his heart quicken at the anticipation before dropping back down to the ground when it was just a false alarm. His hands once again clenched tightly around the one lying limp beside the figure on the bed, the only warmth emitting from the places he’s touched.

He didn’t need to feel the other one to know it was likely cold to the touch, and focused on the warmth from the one he could feel right now.

Picking at the drawstrings of his yellow hoodie with his one free hand, he knew his fingers were turning pruney from squeezing and rubbing on the course material. He couldn’t remember how exactly he had even gotten changed, and only knew when each day had passed when the same nurse working the morning shift greeted him quietly. There was always a tray of food or a bag of take-out placed in front of him every so often, but he wasn’t keeping track of how much time had passed between each delivery.

The only reason he hadn’t collapsed by now was probably because of his father and Andrea. The only two people that could get him to hold onto something materialistic and gently guide it to his mouth, encouraging him to take small bites and swallow, before washing it down with water.

“Son.”

“You should get some rest. I’ll keep watch and let you know the second anything changes.” Gabriel says softly, but TK just shakes his head like he has the past three days.

“I’m fine.” His voice comes out scratchy, hollow, and he looks back to the comatose figure as Gabriel sighs.

“TK–”

“He might disappear if I close my eyes,” TK could barely get the words out from the shudder that ripples through his body at the reminder, his thoughts an originally blank canvas now filling with only the last few moments of that day, playing in repeat. He holds Carlos’ hand with both of his now, eyes peeled open to catch the slightest movement beneath the closed eyelids. “I won’t– I won’t let him disappear.”

He hears light footsteps that stop in the doorway, and quiet words being exchanged that he couldn’t find it in himself to tune into. Swiping a thumb slowly over Carlos’ wrist, he pauses at his pulse point to feel for any change, the monitors turning into mere background noise after the first day.

“We won’t let him disappear, either.”

TK feels the familiar stinging in his eyes at the tears that just refused to fall when a comforting hand carded through his hair, feeling himself leaning into the soothing gesture. He knows Andrea has pulled up a chair to sit beside him when he feels an arm brushing against his on the seat handles.

“I promise, that when you wake up, he’ll still be here.” Andrea murmurs, and TK knows he shouldn’t believe the open promise that could tear his heart to shreds at any moment, but he wants to.

Oh, did he want to.

“After you get some rest, you can keep watch again.” Gabriel adds gently, sitting on a chair on the opposite side of the bed, exchanging a look with Andrea. This time, when hands slowly pulled him in, he didn’t fight them as he allowed his head to be laid delicately on a warm shoulder. He can smell the sweetness of flowers from the garden on the Reyes family ranch, along with the hint of spices from the kitchen.

There’s a light kiss on his forehead, and TK feels his eyes starting to droop from the exhaustion he’s refused to give into for the past three days. It had been so easy to forgo sleep – the all-consuming fear that gripped him every time he realized that shutting his eyes for just a second might mean he never saw the love of his life ever again outplayed everything else.

“We’ll all still be here when you wake up, sweetheart.”

And those are the last words he hears before succumbing to the darkness.

He begins to engage more in conversation the more he stays at the hospital. After numerous visits from the doctors, nurses, and the chief of surgery, TK finally feels safe enough to leave for a quick shower before coming back.

“-and then, he just jumps! Real talk, I have seen my fair share of crazy on the force, but never have I actually seen someone scale a house because the suspect decides roofs are the new concrete flooring. He just grabs a nearby streetlamp and roundhouse kicks the perp and by the time I catch up he’s already got him in handcuffs and begging for his mother.” TK could feel the faintest smile on his lips when Mitchell finishes the story, hearing his team chuckling around him.

“He literally chased someone across a rooftop?” Paul was staring at her in disbelief, stance relaxed as he leaned against the wall, glancing at Carlos who was currently very unaware of the little fireside storytime that was happening around him.

“Across multiple rooftops. The dude did multiple running long jumps.”

“You’re kidding.”

They had just gotten off shift, with some of them having the day off. TK hadn’t expected them to show up at the hospital one by one like a trail of ducklings, especially considering they had already been visiting quite frequently all the other days too. It spoke volumes, and TK felt a familiar pressure building up behind his eyes when Nancy was the next one up to tell her piece.

“Okay so, this had to be…a year in, and since Michelle and him are best buddies, Tim and I hung out with him outside of work quite often.” TK reached out to squeeze her arm comfortingly when her voice shook on Tim’s name. She turned to smile at him, squeezing his hand back with a knowing look in her eyes when he didn’t have the words to say anything.

“We were so sure that he was this quiet albeit kind, and reserved guy. He was always so polite and put together.” Nancy shifts to lean against him fully, and it’s a pillar of support he is undoubtfully grateful for. He can feel Marjan’s hand that hasn’t left his shoulder since they arrived, tethering him to the present.

“Well, when Tim and I got front row seats when he outright roasted this woman during a nuisance call, that was an eye-opener.” TK’s eyes widened at that, unconsciously squeezing the hand on the bed beside him.

His eyes wandered back to Carlos’ still nature, an ache pulling at him, yearning for his fiancé to open his eyes and just join in the conversation.

“Aw man, this was the call I just had to be off shift for. Grace had to fill me in after,” Judd groaned, smiling down at his wife who was grinning up at him, patting his hand on her shoulder consolingly.

“I was the dispatcher,” Grace explained, but smiled mischievously as she nodded for Nancy to continue.

“She was a frequent 911 caller too. Practically every first responder in the city knew her, but what can you do? Well, Carlos wasn’t impressed when she called in to report in an active gunman, with dispatch sending multiple units in with bulletproof vests and guns raised only for her to explain how she just thought her neighbours were too loud, and needed a scare.” Nancy pursed her lips at the end, clearly remembering how well that call went.

“Please tell me they arrested her,” Marjan raised an eyebrow, making a sound of disbelief and TK hid his smile when he heard Mateo exclaim, “The audacity.”

“Oh, they did alright. She was screaming and yelling about how useless all of us were and there were children around. She was sprouting profanities too and we were all just so lost at what to do until Carlos just struts up to the woman, pins her arms behind her back, and slaps on handcuffs.

“She’s yelling at him now, and when she goes to take a breath, he just looks at her all nonchalantly and goes ‘are you done?’

“When she starts preaching about how he has nothing to hold her over, that he can’t just go around arresting people he just casually says, ‘course I can. For making a nuisance 911 call, for being a danger to the public, and for pissing me off,’ before sticking her into the back of his cruiser. I will never forget the look on her face!” Nancy laughs, and TK is honestly at a loss for words.

“Wow. That’s impressive.” There were varying looks of shock and surprise on their faces, and TK breathes in deeply.

“It was probably the children.”

He can feel multiple pairs of eyes on him, and yet, the one pair of eyes he longs for isn’t one of them.

Looking up to meet their gazes, he offers a weak smile.

“He’s always been attuned to how others are feeling, and those children were probably terrified.” TK says quietly. He hears hums of agreement and understanding and is grateful that none of them push him to say any more.

Just being here, was enough.

The next few hours pass by like this, with everyone swapping stories and just talking about their days. They all made sure that Carlos didn’t miss a single second of everything that had been going on, and TK feels his heart throb with how much he loves and cherishes the family they all built from the ground up.

As he lifts the limp hand to cup his cheek, blinking against the lingering mist that clouds his vision, he hopes that Carlos can feel them all here, and that they’ll all be waiting for him to finally join them.

“Gloria called today.”

It was past visiting hours, the hospital entering a period of rare serenity between nurses checking up on their patients every so often and the occasional new admittances. He knows he shouldn’t comment on the quietness, as saying it out loud usually jinxed the entire thing and he’s already experienced one of those in New York and would never subject anyone to that fate.

Usually, the nurses would have kicked him out, but TK would have just stayed all night in his car in the parking lot if they did. He still hadn’t set a single foot into their home, opting to go to his dad’s place for showers. He didn’t want to feel how cold the walls were as they enclosed on him and witness the lack of a warm smile and wonderous smells coming from the kitchen as his fiancé greeted him at the door with a soft kiss.

He didn’t want to see the pictures of friends and family lining their walls when the face that lit up every single one of those photographs was laying in a coma on a hospital bed.

He didn’t want to see the single pair of shoes left at the doorway, without its usual companion pair beside it.

He didn’t want to see any of it until he could see it with Carlos by his side.

The nurses had long stopped batting an eye at his presence no matter what time it was, and most of them, especially the morning shift, would always check in on him to see if there was anything he needed.

He never knew how to answer that question.

TK trails his index finger slowly up Carlos’ arm, reaching his elbow before sliding it back down. He tries for a smile, because it had been good news, but he knows all his smiles have lost their usual light.

But still, he tries.

“She managed to secure the venue we wanted, so we don’t have to keep on planning for two different ones if this one fell through. Apparently, the couple who scheduled for that day cancelled, so the place is all ours.” It still feels a little awkward talking while knowing that the person listening couldn’t answer, and continuing the conversation anyway. But he wants Carlos to know that he’s here, with more than just the tight grip he has on his hand.

“You know,” TK looks up to peer at Carlos’ slack expression, watching his chest rise and fall in time to his breathing. “I’ve never thought I could hate my blood type until they told me I couldn’t help you.”

The moment they jumped out of the ambulance and wheeled Carlos into the hospital, his pulse having stopped twice on the way, he knew the scissors hadn’t landed in a good place. He remembered looking at his captain, seeing her face draining in colour with each passing minute as Carlos would just not stop bleeding.

And then the doctors confirmed it.

He needed a liver transplant.

Not an entire liver, just a part of it to make up for the piece that he lost from the absolutely stellar aim the woman had that would never recover.

His fiancé was O negative, and he was B positive. An automatic no.

It almost makes him want to laugh, how ironic the situation was. Here he was, part of the 9% that could help cure the rarest diseases and he couldn’t even help his fiancé by giving him half of his liver. Then there was the fact that Carlos had the universal donor blood, and yet was the worst acceptor.

They truly made quite the pair.

He hated it.

Luckily, they had found a match soon after, but it was still too soon to tell the other complications that could arise. And the most important one of all was whether Carlos would wake up at all.

Someone buttoning for the nurses shakes him out of his thoughts, and for the millionth time since Carlos was first admitted to the hospital a week ago, he’s greeted with closed eyes and stillness.

TK gently runs his thumb along the dips and falls of Carlos’ knuckles, pausing at the definite bump where his engagement ring rested. They opted to get separate rings done for their line of work for safety reasons, but he knew that Carlos always wore the authentic one during desk duty or when he wasn’t out on patrol. He remembered putting on his own in the waiting room, wanting to feel a piece of him as he stared at the doors that would determine their future.

“Last I checked, a wedding takes two people.” TK whispers, biting down on his lower lip, hard, to stop the sob that threatened to burst through at the sight of their rings next to each other.

“I can’t get married by myself, you know?”

He goes back to work on the 12th day.

Tommy and Nancy had immediately protested, reminding him that he could take his time – that he could take all the time he needed before coming back.

But he just offered them a small smile, and signed himself in.

“He would’ve wanted me to take a walk, take a breather.” TK says quietly, swallowing past the stones lodged in his throat and looking at them fully.

“I’m taking a breather. And then I’m going back.” TK doesn’t say anything more, and Nancy and Tommy don’t push. He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder and accepts a light hug from Nancy, before they enter work mode.

He works. He stocks up the ambulance. He checks their supplies. He saves people. He gets a distraction.

When his dad asks him if he needs a ride back, he asks to be dropped off at home for the first time.

Owen looks at him when they reach a red light, his eyes filled with concern. TK just looks straight ahead, unmoving.

“TK, you don’t have to force yourself to-”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” TK spat, suddenly feeling a burst of anger at his father’s words, knowing how that sentence was going to end.

He wasn’t giving up. He wasn’t moving on. He was moving forward.

“I’m going home, because I need to straighten the blankets on the couch. I need to tidy up the– the wedding magazines we were too tired to clean up that night, I need to wash the dishes I left in a hurry to get to work. I am going home, because I want to make sure that when he comes back, it’s to a clean place where he can relax. So he can be at ease.” TK knows he’s talking at a volume that’s way too loud for being inside a car, and he feels himself taking deep breaths, his hands shaking in his lap. He doesn’t look up, but hears his father turn on the blinker, the gravel crunching under the wheels as they make a turn.

“Okay.”

Okay.

It was a split second.

He’s grown so used to looking up and seeing eyes that were shut away from the world that when he looks up again a few moments later to see tired brown orbs trained on him, he almost looks away until he realizes wait-

TK shoots up from his seat, almost sending the cup of coffee beside him splattering to the ground.

He can’t speak, the words begging to come out and clawing at his throat, but he could only stare blankly as Carlos blinked, letting out a quiet groan as he slowly adjusted to the lights.

And then his medic instincts kick in.

“You’re awake. Okay. Okay, uh, water. Your throat must be dry as hell. I need to get water. And a nurse, oh my god I need to call the nurse–” He turns around frantically to locate the red button, scowling when he can’t locate it when he swears he had seen it just a few minutes ago-

“Hey,”

It’s extremely quiet, croaky, the end coming out cracked from the long period of non-use but it’s the single most beautiful thing TK has heard in his life. There’s a squeeze on the tips of his fingers, and he just realizes that he hadn’t let go of Carlos’ hand.

“Come here.”

The two whispered words tear apart the film that guards his eyes, and he feels tears blurring his vision as they tunnel in on the smile he’s wanted to see for so long.

But no, he couldn’t go, not yet.

“I need to get a nurse. You-I can’t-” TK is about to just leave the room to barrel into the nurse’s station, but the hold on his hand tightens, the grip surprisingly strong and keeping him in place.

“The only thing – the only person I need right now is you,” Carlos rasps, his eyes turning pleading, and TK immediately stops trying to break out of his hold. But he still doesn’t move from his spot a few feet away from the bed, just staring at his fiancé who is awake.

He’s looking at him and he’s awake.

And suddenly he can’t close the distance between them fast enough.

He places a hand beside Carlos’ pillow gently, the other cupping his cheek. He lowers his head to the crook of Carlos’ neck, and though he’s done this so many times when the other was unconscious, it fills him with a new sense of vitality when he knows that this time when he looks up, Carlos will be looking back.

He lets out a soft sound of protest when he feels Carlos weakly pushing himself up, wanting to stay in his arms forever. There’s a feather-light kiss on the crown of his head, and he feels a weight rest on top of it.

“You don’t have to look up, but…” Carlos trails off, and TK finally lifts his head to meet Carlos’ gaze, who’s looking at him with shining eyes. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Something in his chest aches. It’s suddenly so hard to breathe, but at the same time, TK feels like this is the first real breath he’s taken for the past two weeks.

He can’t find the words, can’t find it in himself to do anything other than just stare at the man lying beneath him, eyes open and alert and warm.

“I didn’t miss our wedding, did I?”

The words punch the breath right out of his lungs, and he wonders if he’ll ever be able to breathe properly for a while. He couldn’t hold back a half-sob, half-laugh at that, closing his eyes as the tears, finally, steadily trickle down his cheeks.

“You wake up after two weeks in a coma and that’s the first thing you worry about?” TK laughs wetly, wiping his cheeks hastily as more laughter bubbles in him at Carlos’ startled look.

“Two weeks?” His fiancé’s eyes are wide, searching his, and TK nods, covering his mouth with a hand to try and hold back his mess of emotions right now.

“Everyone’s been coming by to check in on you. We’ve all been waiting for you to come back to us,” TK says quietly, running a hand through his curls.

Something passed over Carlos’ face then, and he looks down at him questioningly.

“You waited two whole weeks for me to wake up?” TK pauses in his administrations with Carlos’ hair. He smiles sadly, hearing the hint of awe in his fiancé’s voice. He moves to cup Carlos’ face between his hands, chuckling wetly.

Leaning down, he presses a tender kiss on Carlos’ forehead, smiling into his skin.

“I would have waited an eternity just to have five more minutes with you.” He murmurs in the small space between them, and he feels Carlos’ hold on his arm tighten. He can feel the bed shaking at the silent tears that trail down Carlos’ face, and he feels the familiar stinging behind his eyes.

Later, he would be messaging the group chat on the new developments, and he would be greeted with multiple exclamation marks and caps locked messages back as they all message him that they’re on their way. He would button for the nurses, finally procuring the button from underneath Carlos’ pillow and there would be a flurry of activity as the nurses call in the doctor for more questions and a final statement.

Their friends and family would arrive, some of them bringing food and others bringing more flowers and teddy bears to fill the already-decorated room. Andrea would wrap him up in a tight hug, and Gabriel tugs him into a hug of his own.

There would be more hugs shared, tears to be shed, and heartfelt words to be spoken.

But right now, TK lets himself immerse in the moment, as he and Carlos finally breathe.

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #911lsangstweek #Continuation from Day 3

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bread0nhead · 4 years

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Fruitful 18+

a/n: had some interest in making a part two of “fruitless”. So please read that before this!

Rating 18+ due to the content being potentially triggering. Please do not read if this may impact your mental state. Not worth!!

Dabi x F! Reader ANGST!!

Tip jar | thank you very much!

They say it takes six months to get over a breakup. But whoever said that, is a lying piece of shit.

It’s been almost a year since your accident that caused you to miscarry Touyas child. 363 days to be exact. The first three months were the hardest. You couldn’t go back to the league after everything that happened- but being on the side of villains also didn’t really fair well with finding a job. Depression was the glue that tied you to your bed for first three months. No friends, no family and no boyfriend. You only found solace at the bottom of a bottle. Luckily the doctor who took care of you the day of your accident, offered you a job thanks to your unique healing abilities. Since the doctor was unlicensed, potentially psychotic, and surrounded by villains being his only clients- you’re combat abilities also came very handy. The best part is, the pay is actually pretty decent. Much better than the scraps you were getting from Shigaraki. It took time, but things were slowly getting better. You still cry every time you have your period as it reminds you of the miscarriage or when you notice how big your bed feels when it’s just you. But those days become further apart each time. All in all, you’re living. But living and being alive are two different things.

You still follow any news about the league very closely, which since they all went into hiding after all war broke loose. There hasn’t been much news as of late. You suspect they took a decent amount of time waiting for Shigaraki to recover from AFO and now are playing the waiting game of the perfect opportunity to strike again. You heard that Twice passed away, which only poured salt on your already hurting wounds. It tore you to pieces not being there for them during that trying time. You loved twice like a brother or a crazy uncle. Your heart mourned for how you imagined Toga must of felt, you wanted to be there for your best friend. But you had to first heal your own wounds so your blood doesn’t spill onto others.

“Y/N! We’re going to three packs of AB+! Get the hell out here!”

The loud urgency from your boss could be heard from the small office where you eat your lunch in. Quickly setting down your bento box and rushing to the small blood bank storage unit in the basement you return with three packs of AB+ and place them in a small heating chamber for them to warm to normal body temperatures.

“Grab the dressings, lidocaine and surgical staples!”

Still reacting fast you gather the requested supplies from the medical cabinets that stood just outside the patient’s room.

“Got ‘em!”

“Just leave everything on the metal tray behind me.”

You placed the items on the silver disinfected tray that was on top of counters several feet away from both the doctor and patient.

“I don’t want you to see this. Get out.”

“Oh common, I am sure I have seen worse! Let me help!”

“Out!”

With a huff you follow orders and turn on your heels to walk out the room. You return to the shared office and pick the bento box back up as if nothing in the first place. You’re right foot taps against the linoleum floors trying to mediate your annoyance towards your boss. Damnit, you just wanted to help! What the hell could even be going on in there that you wouldn’t want to see!?

“Hnng- I’m the one with the healing quirk, stupid old man.”

A few hours go by fairly quickly which were preoccupied by restocking, disinfecting, and taking count of medications. But no matter how much you focused on, you couldn’t help but wonder about the patient.

“Y/N, the patient is stable. I’m going out for a smoke. You’re free to go home.”

“Okay!!”

You grab your coat hanging from the rack and wrap the matching scarf around your neck. The faint heart rate monitor coming from the patient’s room beckons your curiosity. Oh fuck it. Quickly backtracking your steps you head towards the patient’s room. Just from stepping inside, you don’t see much other than a large body under white sheets with a knitted yellow blanket draped over.

“Still can’t do as your told.”

Your stomach drops and it feels like your chest could explode any moment. You watch as the patient slowly sits up with small winces of pain.

“I missed you, doll.”

363 days since you last saw his face. 363 days since you last heard his voice. Touya Todoroki. Dabi. Whatever the fuck he was going by now. You could feel the acid bile in your stomach turning sour. Your cheeks felt cold as blood left your face, turning your skin lighter in complexion. Staring back at him was like an oceans current sweeping you under, trying to fight your way back to the surface. Desperate to breath.

Touya was currently bandaged in several different places. His burns look fresh around the edges, and new staples were put in. He sat up in the bed with no shirt on, his chest was completely gauzed as red stains inked through. His hair has been dyed back to black but not nearly as methodically maintained like before as white roots now peering through.

“What happened?”

You cursed yourself for asking- not wanting to care. You know whatever comes out of his month will be painfully vague that really does nothing to answer the question.

“Hero shit.”

Predictable.

The sound of the main door opening and latching shut alerts you both. The same loud latching sound from the heavy door that Touya walked out of all those months back. You turn around and walk out the room before Touya has any opportunity to say anything. Your body carried you like being without much thought- as if posessed. You walked past your boss sparring now words or glances. Your mind is too consumed in thought that the world around you feel like it never even existed. Before you know it, your body falls to your mattress. You don’t even remember how you got home. Its like the second you saw those turquoise eyes again, everything turned off- a lapse in time.

☙ -------------------------------❧

You watch as your phone lights up and starts the annoying melody set for your morning alarm. What was meant to wake you to begin the days adventures only was a cruel reminder that you didn’t sleep at all last night. Empty liquor bottles litter your bed as its poison still beats at your head. Your boss must have caught on since he gave you the rest of the week off. Honestly- you didn’t want to be alone. But the idea of getting dressed and dragging yourself to work sounded equally as daunting.

You dangle your legs off your bed focusing on the feeling of the cold wooden floors on your toes. It felt good to feel something again other than a hangover. Once the wood adjusted to your body heat, warming up under your touch. You finally get out of your bed and drag yourself to the bathroom, with your goal being the huge bottle of ibuprophen in the medicine cabinet. With the pills on your tongue, you cup some water into your palms from the faucet and swallow down sweet relief.

Moving from the bathroom to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal, your next destination was the plush couch. You turn the TV, changing the channel to old cartoons. You have seen every episode to this series half a dozen times, the familiarity felt nice. Knowing exactly what was going to happen next. Not sure if it was the pain killers finally kicking it, your stomach no longer empty or the comfort of old cartoons. But your eyes were getting heavy as your body melted into the couch cushions.

The sound of dragging wood and creaking windows filled the room causing you to stir awake. Your eyes squinted at the digital clock reading 9:15pm. The sound picked up again and was followed by a thud. Every nerve snaps awake and courses with adrenaline. You have earned yourself enough enemies from your time as a villain, certain it could be anyone with a nasty grudge. Slowly removing yourself from the couch, you squat down and grab a knife you hid under one of the cushions. Footsteps started to descend in your direction, making your first tighten around the blades handle.

“Would you fucking relax, it’s just me.”

Touyas voice causes nothing close to relaxation. Frankly- you wished it was someone from your past with a deadly trigger finger, preferring that over seeing him again. With a long sigh you get up off the floor and stand with one hand on your hip, the other still death gripping the knife.

“What the hell do you want?” Your tone was dripping in hostility.

“Damn, Doll. I left the care of my doctor after nearly dying just to see you. This is the attitude I am treated with?”

“Just answer my question.”

The room fell silent as you waited for an answer. Touya was staring you down causing the tension to thicken. Eventually Touya exhales as if he was holding his breath the entire time.

“I already told you. I missed you.” Touya started to walk closer, filling the space between you and him. “Tomorrow is the one year mark since we lost our kid. I don’t want to go through tomorrow without you.”

Blood was boiling at this point. You slam the tip of the knife into the coffee table beside you. Touya didn’t flinch even as he stood less than a foot away.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t go one single day without me? But YOU left ME a whole fucking year alone to deal with this shit! You blamed me for losing our child! Do you realize how selfish that is?!”

Touya dropped his head and muscles tensed up.

“Yeah....I do.”

“You go on national TV, tell everyone who you really are- before you even tell your fucking pregnant girlfriend- then you go and get yourself almost killed! And after all of that blame me for the loss of our child and leave me in the dust! You’re a selfish asshole!”

Touya stayed silent as you vented all the built up anger and frustration. You weren’t even sure what all you were saying- but it just kept spilling out. A years worth of bottled up rage and loneliness, finally boiling over.

“’m sorry.”

A simple apology couldn’t fix this, it couldn’t mend what you were feeling. Blinded with emotions, you push against Touyas chest trying to get control of your space again. An audible wince in pain coming from Touya as his white shirt started to turn red. You completely forgot about his wounds, and it bothered you how guilty you felt. Touya turns around with his hand on his chest and walks to the bathroom. Once the bathroom door was closed you basked in the silence and emptiness of the room until finally coming to your senses. You groaned as you made your way to the bathroom. Bleeding hearts of the fucking word unite.

“I’m coming in.”

Inside you see the white bloody shirt on the floor and Touya leaning both arms onto the vanity with his head hanging low. The water is running and you can see the steam dance around, fogging up the mirror. The gauze is soiled red as stiches must have broken open when you pushed him. Touya lifts his head up and looks at your reflection through the mirror. He looks in pain, but not physical pain. Something much worse. You walk up behind him and delicately turn his body to face you. You remove the gauze exposing his open stitches. It was bad. Really bad. Clear signs of early on set infection, several deep gashes stretching across his chest. Peering up you see Touya looking away, he hasn’t said a word. You activate your healing quirk and do what is possible of treating his wounds. Once healed, you grab a towel and run hot water on it to clean up the blood off his skin. It felt surreal touching him again. Certain you would never feel his warmth on your skin again.

“Look, I’m not apologizing for pushing you. You deserved it. But I do feel bad now, so lets get out of here and i’ll make you something to eat.”

Touya responds with a single breathy chuckle. He follows you into the kitchen where you pull out a frying pan start chopping vegetables. There was a long awkward silence as you cooked. Shared silence use to be easy with him. Now it’s suffocating. Minutes feel like hours in the stillness and every sound that isn’t a voice feels like a blessing to fill the empty space. Until the sound was Touyas footsteps coming up beside you.

“How can I help?”

You scoffed at his question. Or maybe at yourself for being thankful for the offer. You gather up the chopped chicken and place the raw meat onto some frying oil.

“Could you cook the chicken? Just keep watch of the pan and I’ll add the ingredients while you stir.”

It’s funny how natural this was feeling again. When dating he promised to always share one home cooked meal with you at least once a week. Date night for villains who couldn’t exactly go out and about like a normal couple. Meals would be made with love- literally. Touya could never keep his hands off of you while you were in the kitchen. You wouldn’t be surprised if you getting pregnant was thanks to one of these home cooked meals. Of course this time, there is no loving touches. No sweet nothingness being whispered into your ear. Do you regret rushing in trying to save him, wanting to know he was okay? Pure intentions with a heavy cost and no reward.

“I left the league.”

Touya finally broke the silence. It’s not much of a surprise that he left- everything fell to shit so fast. In the end, his goals never lined with Shigarakis.

“Oh? So then explain to me how you got that nasty wound in ‘hero shit’. ” you emphasized the end with air quotes.

“Cost of my freedom, doll. A lot of people want me dead. You should see the other guy.”

Silence took over again while your eyes traced his shirtless frame, taking note of all the new scars. You notice a new tattoo on unburned flesh placed just above his shoulder blade. Roman numerals of the date you woke up in the hospital bed, childless. You glanced over at the clock on the microwave; 11:32pm.

“Food is almost ready. Can you grab two plates?”

Touya nods with a soft smile, happy that you changed the subject. He hates talking about his crimes, preferring to live in ignorances bliss.

Over the late night dinner, conversations shared easily to your surprise. You learned that Touya has reconnect with his mother. He even met up with Natsuo and Fuyumi twice since then. Touya talked about all the LOV drama, funny stories or times Tomura really pissed him off. You shared stories of working with the Doctor, your new friends and a trip you went on. Before you knew it, hours have passed.

“Shit, princess. I didn’t realize how late it is.”

You grabbed your cell phone and looked at the time. 2am with today’s date in bold underneath. That’s right... that’s why he’s here. Touya could see the darkness fill your eyes and your spirit change. Your eyes stayed glued to the digital numbers luminating before you. As the clock ticked on, your burden grew heavier. Unbearable crushing weight.

“Common, let’s get you in bed.”

You snapped out of the numbers trance and looked into his cyan eyes that nearly glowed on their own.

“I-it’s okay... I can see you out first.”

“No, doll. I’m not shutting you out again. I want to be here for you this time.” Touya nervously groaned as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “... I still love you. And I know how shitty and selfish that is. But I do...”

Your eyes grew wide and tears fell down blushing cheeks. Your body froze into place until Touya pulled you into his chest, one hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped your waist.

“Dabi...” you whispered in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“Touya. Call me Touya.”

Memories flooded your mind. The cruel tone in his voice after you told him you lost the baby. The painful sound of the door closing on you. The time he first told you he loves you. How he would fall asleep to rubbing your swollen tummy with his head in your lap.

“Y/N, can I be by your side this time?”

/to be continued....

#dabi #my hero academia #bnha dabi #mha dabi #league of villians #dabi x reader #touya x reader #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction: You’re their best friend and are pregnant

When you announced your pregnancy to the boys you thought the whole apartment complex was going to crumble to the ground.

Hoseok and Jin both immediately stood up and started screaming, jumping around and happily dancing. Namjoon just sat there with a fond smile on his face, and you know you heard him quietly mumble that now all the baby shoes that were in his studio could be put to good use. Jungkook just started crying from happiness and excitement, while Jimin was stomping his feet and flailing his arms, shouting and giggling happily and immediately giving you ideas for baby names. And no he didn’t mention Jimin just because it’s his name. He just happens to think it’s a cute name, that’s all. Yoongi was sitting there quietly watching all of the chaos unfold, shaking his head and trying to look annoyed but you would never miss the ghost of a smile on his face.

Taehyung jumped up and nearly tackled you to the floor with the force of his hug.

“This is so exciting! Y/n please make me the baby’s godfather. I will take the best care of this little peanut if God forbid anything happens to you. Heck I’ll do it anyway. Uncle Taetae will take good care of the both of you!”

“Um, excuse me, who says you get to the baby’s god father?” Jimin pokes his cheek with an accusatory look on his face.

“Clearly I am the best candidate, I love kids!”

“You might love them but that doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t, too!”

“Yeah, maybe I want to be the baby’s god father!” Jin chimes in.

“Or me too! I’m more emotionally stable than all of you.” Hoseok argues.

“But I love kids the most!” Taehyung stands from your side and walks over to argue with the others. You watch them bicker back and forth with one another before you flop down on he couch between Namjoon and Yoongi.

“If I would have known me announcing my pregnancy was going to cause this type of chaos I wouldn’t have told you all until I couldn’t hide my baby bump anymore.” Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly at that.

“What do you mean ‘anymore’? How far along are you?”

“Hmm.. almost 4 months now.”

“4 months?! Ah is that why you’ve been asking to borrow my sweaters and shirts so much?” Jungkook asks. He had moved over to sit on the coffee table in front of you after he collected himself and his sniffles died down.

“Yes.. I wanted to wear baggier clothes so you wouldn’t notice. And your clothes are just so comfy and big!”

“Well, consider my closet also yours then. You can wear anything you want of mine!”

“Thank you, Jungkook. You’re really sweet you know?”

“You’re right. I am. Which is why you should definitely make me the baby’s godfather.”

“Oh, Kook not you too.” You groan and throw your head back against the top of the couch.

Taehyung has Jimin tackled onto the ground at this point and is mercilessly tickling his sides.

“Say I’d be a better god father than you!”

“Ne-Never!” He huffs out in between giggles.

“That’s it. Yoongi and Namjoon get to be the baby’s godparents since you all are acting so foolishly.”

“Ha! In your faces!” Yoongi sticks his tongue out at them and Namjoon laughs.

“Very mature, hyung.”

“What? Y/n no! That’s not fair don’t be like that. I’m sorry!” Taehyung moves away from Jimin and scoots closer to you, looking at you with wide puppy eyes.

“Ah don’t do that, Tae. You know I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.”

“Exactly my point.”

“Okay how about we just say, all of you are the baby’s godfather. Or uncles. Whatever you want. You don’t have to put a title on it. You all already know you’re the most important people in my life and you mean the world to me.”

“Ah, y/n don’t say stuff like that or you’re going to make Jungkook cry again.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, Jin. You sound like you’re about two seconds away from bursting into tears yourself. I heard your voice crack.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the two of them.

“I think what they meant to say is. Thank you, y/n. We are honored we mean this much to you and won’t let you down. Promise.” Jungkook and Jin look away sheepishly before turning their smiles on you.

“Yes. All of that. We love you. And we’ll always be here for you through everything. We’re like our own little family unit and the fact that we are growing to be nine is just so exciting!” Jungkook is beaming at you as he says this and it makes a few tears leak out of your eyes. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

“Um.. y/n?”

“Yes, Jimin?”

“If it’s okay with you can I touch your belly? I bet your bump is adorable and I just want to feel the baby, please?”

“Sure. But it’s still a bit early you might not feel any kicks or anything.”

“That’s okay. I just want to let the little one know that I’m here.” He reaches his hand out and rests it on your stomach and it’s then with your shirt pressed against you that the boys can see your little bump.

“Oh my gosh you look so cute!” Hoseok squeals. He places his hand next to Jimin’s and soon all the boys are taking turns resting a hand on your stomach and saying a few sweet words to your baby. This time you do start crying.

“You all are too kind and sweet to me I swear.”

“Nope. This is just exactly how you should be treated. We all will always be here for you, no matter what. Through anything. We’re a family. And nothing will ever change that.” You feel more tears at Namjoon’s words and suddenly you are enveloped in a group hug by all the boys. It’s in this moment all of your worries about being a parent go right out the window. You glance down fondly at your stomach and think that you and your baby are going to be just fine.

#bts reaction #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts #kim namjoon #rm #kim seokjin #jin #min yoongi #suga #park jimin #kim taehyung #v #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook

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lizacstuff · 3 years

Text

Bölüm 45 asks

Plus a few asks from 44, and one about the fragman for 46

Read more under the cut

Anonymous asked: I cannot believe that Ayse revived the "Kemal is Serkan's real father" theory but I think I'm down for it? At least now Kiraz has one decent grandparent and he seems like genuinely nice man. I've been wishing for him to have some scenes with Serkan because the way they set up this S2 plot, they could relate to one another and I was sad to see that he spent 5 years hiding instead

I'm down for this plot! See, now that I know they're doing the long-lost-father plot, it makes all the sense in the world why Serkan doesn't like Kemal and they didn't forge a relationship in the last five years. If they had, then finding out he's his dad would have been a lot less jarring and dramatic. Finding out now and then forging the relationship I think will be a bit more meaty story so it works for me.

To me this story works on a lot of levels, and makes sense with who Serkan is and his very strained relationship with Alptekin. It's like Alptekin sensed it, and resented Serkan his whole life. For those worried that Serkan will no longer have the last name Bolat, I'm not sure where that's coming from. Maybe I'm just not familiar with other cultures, but that is his name, Alptekin raised him, adults don't just up and change their name because of genetics. If you're adopted and you meet your bio dad as an adult, you don't change your name to your bio dad's.

Serkan's name is very much a part of his identity. Which is why this story has so much potential, because it could shake Serkan to his very core to find out who he thought he was, was wrong. He thought he was unlovable, most importantly maybe he'll finally realize there was more at play there and it wasn't at fault.

Anonymous asked: There were a couple things in the last episode that didn't sit well with me. 1. I can't believe Eda made Serkan sleep outside at night and didn't feel bad in the morning when she realized he got sick! 2. The way Seyfi announced Aydan and Kemal's secret relationship. It wasn't his secret to tell, though Aydan did deserve the way everyone reacted. So I got over that pretty quick. 3. Burak!!! He's not the one for Melo. She deserves better and if they end up together in the end, I'm gonna protest.

1. Unless you're going to put the same energy into not believing that Serkan had the gal to remove his bed on the floor as a way to maneuver himself into Eda's bed before she was ready, I really can't relate. It was done for comedy, my advice is to unclench and just giggle along.

2. Or you could look at it as being unfair of Aydan to burden Seyfi with that secret and require he lie to his other employer for five years. I mean I don't disagree that it wasn't his secret to tell, but Aydan had plenty of chances, and it was time for it to come out.

3. This one we are in 100% agreement about. MELO DESERVES BETTER. I will die on this hill.

Anonymous asked: Hi! Do you think Serkan actually believes in Kerem's abilities (he trusts Eda's faith in Kerem) or is this part of his plan to win Eda back? Either way I'm okay, just wondering what you think.

No, I do not think he gained a sudden belief in Kerem's abilities, but I do think he believes in Eda. And if Eda believes in Kerem then when push comes to shove that is enough for Serkan. Of course, he did it as part of his plan to win Eda back. Serkan is taking every opportunity to let Eda know that he respects her and believes in her and I think this was another example of that. There was also an aspect of him trying to win over another person in Eda's circle who was suspicious of him. The fewer people he has working against him, the better! He knows he has no shot with Burak or Ayfer, so this episode he worked on Melo and Kerem. But mostly it was him trying to make Eda's life easier, by smoothing over a personnel problem she was having, thus making working out of Art Life a more attractive option for her. All of those things in one!

Anonymous asked: What do you think about Eda and Piril's friendship? This episode really highlighted how close they've gotten.

Yes, they have gotten close, and I'm happy Eda has a friend, but at the same time I don't trust Piril. This is a woman who discarded Eda and embraced Selin when she was manipulating and abusing a brain-damaged Serkan.

Eda might be able to forget, but I can't. Also as a character she's just boring, rigid and humorless. One of my least favorites on screen.

That being said I do like the triad dynamic of Kiraz/Can, Serkan/Engin, and Eda/Piril, it was fun when they were calling each other at the same time.

Anonymous asked: Idk if they reached out to Maya just because she looked like Hande considering she had no acting experience, but this little girl is like the best casting I've seen. The chemistry with Hande and Kerem is amazing. She's so expressive. I am a Kiraz stan.

She's doing a fantastic job, precious thing! I have no idea how they found her, I know she was an instagram model, but the SCK casting director strikes again. This season doesn't work if we don't fall in love with Kiraz. Thankfully, we did!

Anonymous asked: Hi! Since it seems that we will have 13 episodes, do you think that Edser reconciliation/wedding will be left for the finale, 12-13 ep? Cause Ayse loves to drag and keep them apart.

I think the wedding might be closer to the end, but I think reconciliation will be a bit sooner than that.

However, I have to say that it's really not like they're apart.. is it? I mean this episode we had them living together, sort of casually planning their future together. Next episode we have them pretending to be married and ramping up the sexual tension to white-hot-sun levels, these are all good things. With episodes like this, I don't personally consider the show dragging it out.

In fandom I see a lot of peeps upset because Eda isn't getting immediately back with Serkan and I am feeling inpatient as well, do you think the writers are making a mistake keeping them apart?

Again, I guess my response to you is, by what definition was this episode "keeping them apart?"

Yes, they aren't having sex, but they are living together, working together, raising their daughter together, and I'm a-okay with having a couple of delicious episodes of that while they are still not fully back together romantically. Let's be real, they're still waking up in bed together, flirting, and having a romantic dinner together, so it's not like things aren't moving forward, they are. I'd advise putting aside your impatience, and just sit back, relax, and let the story take its course. There is no need to be anxious with this one. They are going to end up with their happily ever after together, but what we're seeing right now is delightful. It's them in family and domestic situations, them with their child. Most shippers only dream of getting to see this.

This sort of goes back to my stance on episodes 16-24, I know that was a frustrating time for a lot of fans because they were "broken up" but I've always said they may have been officially broken up, but they were in a committed relationship that entire time. And I enjoyed those episodes from that perspective, that tension of them being "apart" but still functioning as a unit and still being emotionally tied together underneath it all. There's kind of a similar situation here, they aren't officially back together, Eda is resisting him, but they are in a committed relationship and I don't understand what the need is to rush through this part? Enjoy the sexual tension of them living together, but not sleeping together. Enjoy the rom com romp of Serkan trying to get in her bed, and Eda taking steps to keep him out. Enjoy their daughter putting them in situations that force them into close proximity, and enjoy them falling into easy compatibility without even trying. Enjoy Serkan planning romantic dinners, and Eda enjoying it despite her every effort to protect her heart.

To me this is very good stuff, and spending this time being impatient and wanting what didn't happen yet, instead of enjoying what did happen is pretty much the recipe for unhappiness not just with this show, but life.

Anonymous asked: i feel like i've seen the exact same frustrations ppl have had with eda right now back around the 20s too after serkan told her about her parents' secret. it was like, now that he's told her the truth, she should automatically forgive him and get back together. same thing happening here, with him accepting his role as kiraz's father. it feels like the same impatience that's put on eda to just forgive him already bc everyone wants happy edser and she's in the way lol.. like girl needs time!

Agreed, and it makes me wonder if these folks have ever watched television before, lmao. Patience! There's a story unfolding and from the first 6 episodes it's clear they have a season long arc planned. All in due time.

Eda spent five years thinking that Serkan stopped loving her, and discarded her for work. The second time he used that excuse to break her heart. My goodness, it's more than okay if she needs a little time to adjust and learn how to trust him again. PLUS that means we get to watch him work on her, try to make inroads, romance her, forge a relationship with his daughter and earn Eda's trust back. What's bad in that?

What did you think of the fragman? It's kind of dumb and unrealistic that they have to dance for a school admission interview.

LMAO. Yes, yes it is, but my question to you is, sana ne?

I mean why do you care if the set up is dumb or not? Or if it's realistic? It's a device to get Serkan and Eda to pretend to be married before they're fully back together and an excuse for us to see Edser smash themselves together in a sensual tangle of limbs while they pretend to be unaffected, while both are being engulfed in USTy flames.

I'm not complaining, why are you?

Come on, this show is silly, it has been from day one, enjoy the fact that we are getting silly plots that force our couple into hilarious and hot situations, because Hande and Kerem are going to give us gold, I guarantee it and I'm going to smile through every second watching it.

xxxxxxxxxx

These asks are from episode 44, they came in and I didn't have time to answer before 45 aired:

Anonymous asked: Do you think there is a point when there are too many “parallels” and it becomes more like scenes are being recycled? Because I kinda felt that way in the last episode. Like she’s just tossing in as many things as she can from those first 11 episodes but I’ve already watched those and Id rather we focus more character progression. I feel like they regressed from those honest conversations last week and were back to being petty this week.

I guess my answer is... no, I don't think there have been too many parallels. Episode 44 was partly about truth bubbling to the surface, with the biggest truth being that Serkan has been in love with Eda every minute of every day since they parted. That is a very important thing for Eda to understand and know and they really can't move forward until she does, because she felt unloved and forgotten all those years. Most of the parallels were illustrating that by showing that he held on to their history, he remembered their history and he honored it. Okay by me.

Anonymous asked: There were some amazing dialogues in the episode. I have two that tie for top. One was when Kiraz said that Serkan was her wish (when blowing her birthday candles), and the other was when Serkan said Apollo was never going to give up on the woman he loves nor on the cherries! Oh my heart had feels both times. What were your favourite dialogues in the episode?

Oh man my head is in 45 now, but both of those examples of yours were great. I loved both of them.

The other than springs to mind is while fishing, Eda telling Serkan that he didn't need to be perfect for Kiraz to love him, he just had to be himself.

Swoon.

That's so important for Serkan to hear, because he doesn't think he's worthy of love as himself, so hearing that from Eda is impactful.

Anonymous asked: reading your ep review, i think a big reason some people are hanging on to hate the s2 plot no matter what are just bc they hate the writer. of course not everyone, but a lot of people will just hate on anything she writes out of spite, even if objectively the episode is very good. idk why that is or when ppl decided they hated her but it's not warranted at all imo. i can understand not liking the premise of this season, but after watching it so far there has been SUCH an improvement edser-wise.

People can like, dislike, love, hate anything they want. Consuming entertainment doesn't have to be a team sport. That being said, from what I've seen I'd agree with your assessment. Teams have formed (Anti-Ayse, Pro-Ayse, etc) and the former are too invested in hating everything she does, the former possibly too forgiving at times. That's their choice, but I have to say I feel bad for the anti brigade, this is a show they loved, and most of them are still watching, but they've completely sabotaged themselves from finding any joy in any of it and I think they're going to regret it once it's over.

Also season 2 is so much better than I thought it could be. I honestly thought there was no way to get back to the early quality, but it's here. The show is really watchable and fun this season, and it's a shame for those who've let their attitudes get so negative that they can't enjoy it.

Anonymous asked: Ok so I'm aware this would be highly uncharacteristic of a dizi - but if they know there's only 6 eps left, my dream would be no more big bad events and just spend it rebuilding EdSer as a couple and a family. Would that be too much to ask lol. They've jumped from one disaster to another. Since we're at the end & they have the luxury of knowing it, I just want to see them working through things as a real unit. They've dated for like 7 eps out of 45? Can we get that above 10 at least????

Congratulations! Because that's exactly what we've gotten so far in season 2. Once we got past the trauma of the 5 year time jump, all the drama has been internal to Eda and Serkan and their relationship. The whole season so far has been about rebuilding Edser as a couple and a family. And if you're watching without the tauntruming twitter teens in your ear, you'd realize we ARE watching them work through things as a real unit.

I'll say this until I'm blue in the face (apparently) just because they are not currently sexing each other up, does not mean they aren't emotionally doing all the things necessary to reach their full potential as a couple.

They are. It's happening. Enjoy it.

#Sen Çal Kapımı #sen cal kapimi #edser #sckask #sck 2x45 #sck 2x06 #sck episode discussion #edser discussion #asklizac

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cicici03 · 4 years

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Who You Goin To Choose- Chapter 1

What’s up guys! So if you can’t tell this is my first Florian series and I am so excited because that is a fine, fine, fine white man! If you haven’t read one of my stories before, I like some drama! With that, this one is going be full of it! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of, Who You Going To Choose , and can’t wait for y’all to comment your thoughts!

Please comment, reblog, and like!!

Characters:

Florian

Kia

Ernest

Dominique

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

Wednesday, 11:50 p.m.

The five bedroom and six bathroom house belong to one of the top names in boxing as of 2020, Florian Munteau, and his wife, Kia Ford-Munteau. Kia was also well known due to her father, Ernest Ford, who made the first black owned grand hotel in Las Vegas: Black Wall Street. He name it that in honor of the massacre of Black Wall Street in Tulsa, Oklahoma to show that Black Wall Street is back better than ever.

In the master bedroom, you could here the bed frame hitting the back of the wall and the couple loud moans.

“ Big Nasty, right there baby!” Kia moan under her husband.

Florian was pounding in her and not giving her any breaks.

“ Fetiță , you better take it!” Florian stated with his thick, deep accent that was lower than usual.

As the couple started to get into it, Kia’s phone rang with the signature Kim Possible ringtone.

Florian and Kia both knew who was that calling her. That ringtone meant her boss.

“ Flo, you know I have to get that!” Kia moan out more with her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

Florain pound in her looking at his wife that was under him. With her eyes close and moaning, that help Florian drowned out the phone in the background.

With the phone stopping, Kia started to take control. As she start riding Florian, her phone started again making the same ringtone. Kia knew that was going to happen, so that why she made sure she was in control.

Kia hoped off Florian, who was a groaning mess, and picked up the phone.

“ Hi dad!” Kia answered the phone in a hush tone while looking at Florian in the eye.

Florian just looked at his wife of two years, and knew what was about to happen. Her father going to call her to come to his house and help him with something. With that, Kia would try and stay home, but her father talk her into to leaving the house.

Florian knew that Ernest didn’t like him when Kia and him started to first date. However, after they got married, Ernest made sure that he tried to keep Kia away from Florian by making her check up on him or do work things.

“ Daddy, why can’t you let your new wife do it?” Kia questioned her father, and avoiding eye contact with Florian as much as possible.

Since Florian knew what Kia was going to do, he got out of the couple’s bed and went into the bathroom to finish his manhood.

“ Well, Kia, I want my babygirl to do it! Plus, her name is Alexis!” Ernest asserted the last part in with his gruff voice. Ernest looked at Alexis, who heard what Kia said.

“ Daddy, I am not going to call that girl by her name! I can’t believe you would marry somebody that could possibly be my older sister!” Kia shouted back her father while putting on her leggings.

Kia’s mother died almost fifteen years ago due to a bad car accident. With that, Alexis came in the picture four years ago. She was three years older than Kia, 31, and was a showgirl for one of Black Wall Street musicals.

One day, Kia and Ernest came to see the performance and it went on from their. Alexis actually had true love for Ernest, but Kia just saw a young girl trying to get her daddy’s riches.

“ Well if we want to talk about people that we married. Why you married what his name, Flo Rida!” Ernest roared as he got up from bed. Alexis saw that and knew that he was going to raise his blood pressure.

“ You know who you should have married! Dominque Powers! Dominque is the best neurosurgeon in the United States! May I also say that he is black!” Ernest shouted even louder over the phone.

“ Dad!” Kia shouted backed while looking at the floor. She knew that Florian also heard from the sound of the door opening as he said that. Kia looked up to the bathroom door, and saw Florian face.

Florian shook his and went to his side of the bed.

“ Daddy, you know that you can’t talk about him like that!” Kia croaked out from the tears holding back in her eyes.

“ Well he can’t understand English no way!” Ernest threw back, with Alexis hitting him on his chest. Alexis truly cared for Kia and Florian’s relationship and it hurt that her husband was seemly trying to destroy his only daughter’s relationship.

When Florian heard that comment: he snapped. Florian got up from his side of the bed, and went over to Kia’s side. Kia saw as Florian walked over to her with anger bouncing off his muscles.

Florian tooked the phone out of her hands and spoked into the phone.

“ Well Mr.Ernest, I can speak English after all. With that, I find it very disrespectful to say that about your daughter’s husband! With that, Kia will not be coming over!” Florian angrily yelled in the phone and gave it back to Kia.

Kia looked at her husband like he is crazy. She loves when he is all hot and angry and it made her a little wet. However, she could hear her father cussing on the phone.

As Florian got back to his side of the bed and got under the covers, Kia put the phone back up to her ear.

“ Kia, you just going let that man speak that way to me! Kia, you better be here in the next hour!” Ernest screamed and hung up the phone.

Kia shook her head and put the phone down on her nightstand on her side. Kia looked at Florian, whom was just turning on the TV to watch ESPN talking about the fight that was this week that was involving him.

“ Florian, știi că nu poți vorbi cu tatăl meu așa!” Kia blurted out with anger and sadness in her voice due to her having to choose sides once again. (Florian, you know that you can't talk to my father like that!)

When Florian heard that, he turn and glared at Kia. He saw that Kia was putting on her shoes.

“ Kia, când voi fi prima dată în viața ta! El a fost așa de când ne-am reunit! atunci îți ridică fostul! Am fost departe de tine de două luni, pregătindu-mă pentru lupta vieții mele! Tot ce vreau să fac este să fac dragoste soției mele, în ziua în care ovulează și să rămână însărcinată! Cu toate acestea, știu că soția mea va pleca la fel cum a spus-o tatăl ei!” Florian hollered out with him looking at Kia the whole time.

(Kia, when will I be first in your life! He has been like that since we got together! Then he brings up your ex! I have been away from you for two months, training for the fight of my life! All I want to do is make love to my wife, on the day that she is ovulating, and get her pregnant! However, I know my wife is going to leave just like her dad said so!)

Florian huffed out and turn back to the TV and turn it up. Kia knew that he was angry due to him replying back in his native langue.

“ Florian, you know I love you! However, my dad relies on me! So, I am going to go over there, and I’m sorry that we couldn’t make love like I wanted us to do too!” Kia yelled while trying to be louder than the TV.

Florian laughed to himself thinking that Ernest have Alexis, who is a sweet and genuine person that cares for him. Out of three of Ernest children, Kia is the only one that doesn’t cares for Alexis and Ernest knows that. With that, he know that Kia will come over to make sure that everything is okay at the house even when Alexis know how to do it.

Kia huffed and went to the seats at the end of the bed and grabbed her purse. She looks back at Florian, who was staring at her, and went quickly out the door.

Florian already knew that she was going to choose her father over him.

She always did.

Florian looked back the TV and saw him and Brooks Jones on the screen. After the success of Creed II, a manager reach out to him about boxing due to them looking at some of his amateur tapes from Romania.

With that, Florian became a household legend after he KO, Tito Jones, a person who had a 49 winning streak, but was ended by Florian.

After that, Florian been having him a winning streak himself: 9-0. This next fight would be hard one due to Brooks Jones being a dominant fighter that had to move to Florian weight class due to being “ dangerous”.

He have KO ever last one of his opponents since the beginning of his career.

As Florian watch the ESPN special on his fight with Brooks, he looked over to the other side of the bed.

He has been use to Kia choosing her father over him. However, now it was really hard for Florian to cope with it due to him and Kia wanting to have a family. Florian shooked the tear from his eyes and turn off the TV.

With that, he turn off the lamp on his side of the bed.

All he could think of was how he was always second on Kia’s list to her father and she was always first on his.

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Thursday,7:30 a.m.

Ring

Kia woke up from her bed, to her phone ringing. She looks at the phone and see that Alexis is calling her. She put back on the nightstand and turn to look over and saw no Florian there.

She knew he wasn’t go to be there due to him having training at 4:15 in the morning to prepare for the fight in the next two days.

Kia layed back down on her side to go back to sleep. As she did that, Florian walked in their room. Florian walked over to bathroom without closing the french doors.

Kia turn that way to looked at her husband.

Florian, not knowing that his wife was looking, took off his shorts and briefs. With that, Florian turn the shower on and walked back to the sink to wash his face.

Kia looked at her husband’s manhood with her bottom lips moisten. Florian went back into the shower to clean himself up.

Ring

This time Kia knew that she had to answer that phone because that was her dad calling. Kia relucantly picked it up and answered it.

“ Kia, my only daughter, I want to thank you for coming over to make that pecan pie for me!” Ernest shouted with much joy while in his office at the hotel looking over that Vegas Strip.

“You welcome dad, however you can’t just call me to come over to make a pecan pie in the middle of the night.” Kia mumbled to last part to her dad. Ernest sighed and got up from his chair and looked out side.

“ Did Flo-Rida, put you up to this?” Ernest demanded for an answer. Kia sighed and shook her head.

“ Daddy, no he did not! I haven’t seen Florian for two months due to training and we haven’t had much alone time.” Kia said with much sadness behind her voice. As she turn her head back to the bathroom, she saw Florian walking out with his towel around his waist.

She then looks up to his face and saw him looking at her.

Kia was wearing a sports bra and sweatpants, one of Florian favorite outfits on her due to it being is accessible.

“ Well that is not my problem that he have to leave. One thing I know is Dominquie wouldn’t be gone for two months!” Ernest threw backed at Kia.

“ Daddy, we are not talking about that! I just see you later when I get to the office.” Kia said with annoyance from her father bringing up her ex. With that, she ended the called.

She looked back to the bathroom and saw no Florian there. She got up and put on her house shoes and went to the couple’s closet to see if he was in there.

She saw Florian’s towel on the floor, on his side of the closet, picking out an outfit to pick up his family from the airport.

Florian turned around and capture his wife’s eyes looking at him. He looks at her and then turned back around.

“ So we really are doing that Florian.” Kia snapped at Florian while going over to her side of the closet.

Silence.

With that, Kia turned around and looked to see her husband’s back and ass.

Kia knew that she going have to apologize and she knew the trick that always work.

Kia walked over to behind her husband and start tracing his back.

“I’m sorry Flo!” Kia mimicked to make her voice to go up a pitch. With that, she start rubbing down to his lower back.

She knew that he was tired and his muscles was aching due to his tough training.

“ Flo, I am truly sorry! I can show how much I am really sorry.” Kia purred out while starting to rub on Florian’s sides and then going down the front of his thigh.

With Florian still not budging, Kia had to move her plan to Level 3.

She start going for his manhood.

As she got to his manhood, she start rubbing his shaft in one hand and his balls in the other.

Florian stopped reaching for the shirt that he wanted due to his wife. Kia knew how much Florian loves handjobs. Even though Florian loves his manhood around Kia’s mound. He also loves her warm, small hands around his manhood.

“ I’m so sorry Big Nasty.” Kia whispered out while feeling Florian get hard. Kia then went back to kissing his back.

“ Kia.” Florian purred out with his hands wrap behind him holding onto Kia’s sweat pants. As Florian started to feel himself get harder, he went back to taking control.

He turn around and picked up his wife and put her on the counter in the middle of the closet. He went to kiss her lips fighting for dominance.

Florian of course won.

“ Are you still ovulating?” Florian ask in between kissing Kia. Kia hesitant and kept trying to fight for dominance.

Florian went down Kia’s neck and gave her love bits all over.

Kia looked at the clock that was on Florian’s side and saw the time, 8:30, which Florian was suppose to leave to pick up his family.

“ Florian you got to leave!” Kia moaned while enjoying the attack on her neck by her husband.

Florian stops and looked back the clock and realize that he should have been leaving ten minutes ago due to the Las Vegas traffic.

“ Shit!” Florian cussed while rushing to put on the clothes that he took out for himself. Kia sat on the chair and watch him.

Kia wanted to have a baby, but her dad was in her ear about Florian. Ernest told Kia that Florian could just want to have a baby with you and leave with the baby and some of her fourtne.

Kia didn’t believe that, but it was always in the back of her head. Florian finish putting on his clothes and rush up to put on his shoes. As he was putting on his shoes, he looked at Kia, whom was looking out at space.

“ Prinţesă , what you thinking about?” Florain said while rushing to putt on his cologone. Kia snapped out of her thoughts and smile at him.

“ Nothing, baby, just thinking about me and you!” Kia shouted with happiness in her voice while walking to Florian. Florian turn around and wrap his hands around Kia’s waist.

“ How much longer are you ovulating?” Florian question while looking at Kia. Kia looked in his eyes and stated, “ Four more days.”

Florian smiled and start kissing Kia on the lips.

“ Well that mean after the fight I win. My prinţesă and I will be making lots of love in this sound proof room.” Florian said in between kisses.

“ Florian you better leave before your bother and Tata kill you for being late!” Kia laughed to move to the topic away from the statement. Florian let go and looked at Kia.

“ Well you are right! I see ya later and love you!”Florian kissed Kia on the cheek and smack her butt. Kia waited for Florian to run downstairs and out the door. Kia ran to the window facing the driveway and saw Masias, Sandro, and Florian driving away the three Mercedes Vans to pick up Florian’s family.

Kia ran over to her purse to find her birth control. Throughout the time Kian and Florian been trying for a baby this pass year, Kia have been taking birth control to make sure nothing happens.

Kia knew that it would hurt Florian to know, but right now is not the best time for them to have a kid due to Kia not wanting to hear her dad. Kia knew she was not doing the right thing, but she didn’t know if she should believe her father or not.

After taking the pill, she went inside her closet to put on her clothes for work. With that, thirty minutes later, Kia was done with all of her hygiene she left with her purse and phone.

However, she left her birth control on one of the seats in her bedroom.

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Kia drive up to Black Wall Street into her assign parking spot. Kia got out of her Merecdes G- Wagon and made her way into the hotel.

As she walking to the elevator, she wave at every last one of the employees. Some of the employess at the hotel have seen Kia grown up in front of their eyes.

All the employees love Kia due to her fun and sweet personality and loves when she is at the hotel. Kia finally got to the elevator and went up to the office floor.

As she got to the floor, she was bombarded by her two oldest brothers, Sean and Ross.

Sean

Ross

“ Kia, what did dad’s favorite child do this morning to make him angry?” Ross snapped at his younger sister while walking towards her office.

Kia sighed and shook her head.

“Well you are the favorite. From me being the gay son, which he don’t accept when people bring it to his attention. To Ross, not wanting to own the family hotel!” Sean said in a matter of fact attiude.

As Kia got to her office, she went to her desk and sat down. She stared at her brothers as they walked over to her and sat in the two chairs in her office in front of her.

“ Well I hung up on him after he brought up Dominique.” Kia stated as she crossed to see her brothers’ reaction.

They were unreadable, which is rare because Kia could read them in a second.

As she was about to speak, Alexi walked into her office.

“ Hi you guys! Kia, ummm, you know your dad got diabetes,” Alexis stammered across her words, “ I think you should have not made that pecan pie for him last night.” Alexis finished with authority, like she practice this morning in the car.

Kia looked at Alexis and laughed.

Now, Alexis wasn’t expecting that and it made her angry that she laughed at her. Alexis looks towards the brother and saw that they shocked to by their sister’s reaction.

“ Well Miss. Thang, I am going to do whatever my father tells me to do and you can’t do nothing about that!” Kia bellowed with much anger against Alexis.

“ Well, will you let your father continue to ruin your marriage?” Alexis snapped back at Kia. That comment really got under Kia’s skin.

Kia got up from her desk, with Ross getting up with her to makes sure she don’t attack Alexis, she went to the door heading for her dad’s office.

Alexis was right after her, and all the employees watch the two women storm to the boss’s office.

“ I don’t think you want to go in there Kia!” Alexis shouted at Kia. Even though Alexis took the low blows from Kia, she didn’t want her to get hurt.

“ Why because my father is going to see your wrong!” Kia rebutted back Alexis while reaching for the door knob.

As she open it, she saw the person that was her first love, and first everything talking to her father.

“ Dominique!” Kia croak out with a look of surprise on her face.

Dominique turn around and got out his chair and walk to her.

“ Babygirl, still looking good!” Dominqiue replied back while for going in for the hug.

“ Ah shit, Florian is going to be piss!” Sean yelled out with Ross hitting him upside his head.

However, Kia was frozen, she didn’t know what to do.

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

Welll then.....

Who is the villian in this? Kia? Ernest? Both?

Kia is still taking birth control behind Florian’s back!

What y’all think of Kia?

What y’all think about Alexis?

The big shocker, DOMINIQUE IS BACK

Why is he is back? Did Ernest brought him back? Enrest trying to ruin Florian and Kia’s marriage?

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

Hope y’all enjoyed the first chapter!!!! Please comment, reblog, and like!!!

Taglist: @l-auteuse @twistedcharismaaa @19jammmy @designerwriterchic @michelleteriney @munteanhore @ljstraightnochaser

#florian munteanu #florian big nasty munteanu #florian munteanu x black reader

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funkymbtifiction · 4 years

Text

Could you elaborate more on spotting ESTJ vs ISTJ? I’ve read your type descriptions, and the ETJ/ ISJ summaries but I’m struggling to type my mother for the following reasons:

- I think she’s a strong Te user. When she’s decided she wants something done, the whole family somehow knows about it weeks in advance and is enlisted in making it happen (vs my dad tinkering on things quietly by himself). When she doesn’t have much experience with it or isn’t accustomed to doing it, she’s very happy to ‘delegate’, though to the rest of us the delegation feels more like 'I don’t want to do it, you do it’. Are ESTJs also more comfortable working with what they know/ like to do, or would this suggest ISTJ?

- She’s often very 'inflexible’ in giving advice (ie. here is how I did it, and this is what I know works, so it’s exactly what you should do) - which makes me think inferior Ne - and she gets upset if her prescriptions aren’t followed. But she has been willing to take risks and embrace change in her own life - immigrating, marrying my dad despite extended family disapproval, regularly taking new opportunities at work and switching teams because she wants to gain skills/ build a broad base of connections. I’m wondering if this is tertiary Ne or developed inferior Ne in a familiar domain (eg. work)

- She can also be really impassioned about what she believes. Her response to someone questioning her beliefs is incredulity - 'how could you think this?’ This could be me misinterpreting Fi but in my interactions with higher Fi users, conflict is more of 'this offends me/ goes against my values’ whereas with my mother it’s more like 'I can’t believe you disagree with me, I don’t understand how you can think this, you must be brainwashed or have the wrong facts’. Does this suggest inferior Fi?

Would love thoughts on this, or suggestions for what to further look out for to narrow down the difference.

And a slightly off-topic question, but in thinking about family and looking through this blog, I came across the idea that Si users see children as an extension of their parents (I’m not sure but it might have been in the Snape post). Okay. As a Si dom, I guess I do, but I’ve never thought to relate it to type before. Not necessarily parents, but the way you think is shaped by what you pick up from the people you grow up with. What you pick up is very subjective, and of course you can choose for yourself to behave differently or value different things, but as I get older I’m aware of patterns of thought I 'inherited’ from my parents - for better or worse. Would other types see it differently?

I would say ISTJ. ESTJs tend to be more flexible because of Te/Ne (secondary Si: it worked for me to do this but yeah, I can see how that would also work) and it sounds like she is more ‘set in her ways’ than an ESTJ would be. But another way to look at it is to ask yourself -- is this woman an extrovert or an introvert? My ISTJ mother is very motivated, driven, hard-working, etc., but she gets tired around groups of people, she needs a lot of alone time to recharge, and she can just ‘zone out’ in the middle of a conversation. We used to have a monthly ‘get together’ with our friends after finishing our heaviest workload of the month, and after awhile she asked me if we could stop doing it or postpone it a week, since it was exhausting to her to spend a week working hard on things and then be expected to socialize with people. (Me being the extrovert was ‘revved up’ by this -- because yay, boring work is done, and now PEOPLE!) ESTJs, being extroverts, are highly proactive and quite social and don’t need much down time.

Everyone inherits certain things from their family (genetic or learned?), but I have noticed SJs tend to assume more based on sensory traits, if that makes sense? They notice the things you do the same, the expressions you have that are the same, the similar behaviors between people. I don’t physically resemble my mother that much (I’m taller, my hair is blonder, my body is more muscular, my face is rounder, my eyes are bigger), but I have had total strangers watch us washing our hands in a public restroom and ask if we are mother and daughter. That sort of assumption is basically Si -- detecting minor similarities between people’s expressions or behaviors, noticing they are in the same place, linking that to an assumption that is usually correct / has been correct in the past (they are together, their expressions and/or smile are the same, there must be a familial connection -- mother and daughter, right?). Now everyone does this to some degree (that’s obviously a mother and her kids) but Si is rooted in what works, what has worked in the past, and what seems timeless -- like the idea of a family unit, which is why so many SJ’s are beautifully family-focused.

In terms of inheriting beliefs and thoughts from your parents -- that’s normal for all the types to some degree, although some of them ‘assert themselves’ and their independent thoughts sooner than others. Life generally presents us with situations that can alter our thinking and shift our conclusions -- if we allow it to happen. Many people refuse for various reasons, but others adapt. That’s why while certain tendencies remain the same throughout our life, we often do change in various ways as life teaches us wisdom.

- ENFP Mod

#question #estj #istj #mbti #submission

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black-kitten-imagines · 5 years

Text

Scary on the Outside but Soft on the Inside ~ Monroe x reader

Word count: 3,746

Warnings: swearing, violence, mention of abusive relationship

Summary: Nick and Monroe help the reader out of an abusive relationship.

A/N: Don’t get into cars with strangers!

Once upon a time, in a faraway city in the United States of America, there lived a cop. A cop with a gift – with the gift to see. And oh boy the things he saw.

After a long day of hard work Nick finally left the precinct. It was already dark and it was pouring when he walked down the steps and over the street. With hunched shoulders the Grimm made his way to his car. Just as he wanted to open his car door he heard a weird noise – it sounded like quiet sobbing. Nick looked up. There a few meters away he saw a young woman standing next to the door to an apartment block. She was completely soaked, her (f/c) dress clung to her skinny body. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her body trying to stop the shivering. (H/c) hair hung into her from crying and the cold reddened face.

Filled with worry Nick walked up to the girl. “Hey, are you okay?” “Not really.” “What happened? Can I help you in any way?” The girl sighed. “I really don’t want to bother you with any of this. It’s just... it’s just...” She started sobbing. “It’s just that I’ve lost m-my keys. A-and now I can’t get in ‘c-cause my b-boyfriend won’t let me in.” Sniffling the girl continued, “And now I don’t know what to do. I... I’ve been standing here for hours.”

“Well, your boyfriend sounds like a dick”, the Grimm replied. Nick started taking off his jacket. “What... what are you doing?”, the young woman stuttered. “Here, take this. You’re completely soaked.” He handed her the jacket. “Thanks a lot.” “Hey, this might sound creepy but... but would you like to come to my house, you could warm up and have dinner with me and my girlfriend. Being a cop I would feel horrible leaving you out here and my girlfriend won’t mind you coming over and staying the night.” “Well... I don’t have anywhere else to go so... okay”, the girl replied.

She hesitantly followed the Grimm to his car. While opening the passenger door for her he asked: “So what’s your name?” “Oh... I’m (Y/n) (L/n).” “Well, nice to meet you, I’m Nick Burkhardt”, he said closing the door for her

A few minutes later Nick lead (Y/n) up the steps to his front porch. The light turning on as he knocked on the door. A few seconds later the door was opened by Juliette. Her happy smile quickly turned into a look of pure confusion, her eyebrows knitted/knotted downwards, when she noticed the girl accompanying her boyfriend. Nick stepped forward, hugging Juliette and giving her a kiss.

“Hey Juliette! How was your day? This is (Y/n). I found her out in the rain.” The three of them stepped into the house while Nick was retelling the story.

“Oh god! What a dick! You know you are welcome to stay the night if you want to”, Juliette replied. “Thanks a lot. I would really like that”, (Y/n) answered gratefully. “Good, but first of all let’s get you dry”, the red haired woman continued cheerfully, “come with me.” Together the two women went upstairs. (Y/n) followed Juliette who showed her the shower. “Here are the towels and I’ll quickly bring you some fresh clothes. Mine should more or less fit you”, Juliette explained hurrying out of the bathroom and returning a few minutes later with some black, warm sweatpants and a purple long sleeved shirt in her arms.

“Here you go. I’ll be downstairs making dinner. If you need anything just call me”, the red haired woman said passing on the dry clothes. Leaving the room she closed the door behind her. As (Y/n) stepped into the shower she turned on the water. Sighing as the hot water met her bare skin, she was finally able to let go of all the fear and stress that the day had held for her.

Later that evening the three of them sat at the wooden dining table, a plate of spaghetti in front of each of them. After a few moments of eating in silence (Y/n) spoke up. “I can’t thank both of you enough for letting me stay the night and I truly hope that I am no burden to you.” “Of course not. We’re happy to have you”, Juliette replied with a kind smile. Setting his fork down Nick commenced talking : “I don’t want to intrude into your personal life, but may I ask you if your boyfriend is so horrible to you, why don’t you just leave him?” “Well”, the girl sighed and looked down at her plate. Looking up she continued telling the story. “He’s the only person I really know here. I don’t have any family or friends living close by. You know, I’m not originally from Portland, I was raised in (y/h/t). And with the job I have would never be able to afford an apartment.” “And why did you get together with him in the first place?” (Y/n) smiled dreamily while drifting off into the past. “He wasn’t always like that. He used to be so friendly. It was love at first sight.” Juliette gave the (h/c) haired beauty an understanding look.

When everyone was finished with eating and the dishes were in the dishwasher, the Grimm’s girlfriend showed their visitor the guest room. Getting some extra blankets and pillows and putting them into the arms of (Y/n), Juliette noticed a faint bruise the size of an apple just below the girl’s collar bone. “What happened?”, the red haired woman asked while nodding towards the discoloration. “Oh that”, the girl said shaking it off, “It’s nothing. I just fell down the stairs a few days ago.” “Well, I hope it doesn’t hurt too much”, with those words she turned to retire to bed.

Later on, lying in bed, the situation of their guest was still occupying the minds of the hosts. “What kind of person do you have to be to let such a petite girl alone in the rain?”, Juliette put an end to the silence. “Her life with him must’ve been hard.” Turning around in the cop’s arms so that she could look at him more easily, she worriedly asked: “Did you see the bruise on her chest?” “You think he hit her?” “I don’t know but I’m happy you found her.” With that the two of them finally fell asleep.

The next morning when Nick awoke he made his way downstairs. Passing the guest room, who’s door was open he saw the bed tidily made and the extra clothes nicely folded lying at the foot of the bed. He continued his journey to the kitchen where he found a note on the counter-top standing next to a pot of freshly made coffee.

Reading the note Nick started to smile and poured himself a cup of the pungent liquid. The message was from (Y/n) thanking them for letting her stay the night. As a sign of gratitude she made them breakfast. Just as the young man finished reading the last few words his girlfriend walked into the kitchen. Coming up from behind Juliette hugged Nick kissing him on the cheek. “What d’you got there?”, she questioned curiously. “It’s a note from (Y/n). She made us breakfast, which is keeping warm in the oven.” “Aww, that’s so sweet of her.”

A few days later Hank and Nick were once again busy with a suspicious case. “So, what do you think of this? Any Wesen that could fit the profile?”, Hank asked as he closed the passenger door of Nick’s Toyota. “Honestly... no idea”, the Grimm sighed, “but I’ll head back to the trailer later on. Wanna join me?” “Sure thing, anything to catch this killer.” The two of them walked towards the new crime scene surrounded by the typical yellow tape when a person that was walking in their direction caught Nick’s attention.

The girl was looking downwards, (h/c) hair hiding her face. The detective thought that she looking oddly familiar. As the girl came closer he recognized her. “(Y/n)? Is that you?”, he asked making the girl look up. It actually was (Y/n). She looked really sad and like she had been crying for a while, her eyes red and puffy. Nick could clearly see some quite horrible, blueish-greenish bruises that had formed on the delicate face, neck and even decolleté of the young woman.

As soon as (Y/n) laid her eyes on the familiar man her eyes started to tear up. Noticing this the Grimm quickly rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her in a comforting way. “Oh god, what happened to you?” While crying onto his shirt she tried to explain it to him interrupted by a few more violent sobs. “It... it was him. It’s ne... never been this bad and this... time I just couldn’t stay... and... and I’ve been sleeping at work for the past few days but... my b... boss noticed and said I couldn’t sleep there any... anymore and I don’t know what to do!” At that last part the girl started to full out cry salty tears streaming down her beautiful, (s/c) cheeks.

Patting her on the back to calm her back down Nick replied: “Shh... shh... calm down. Everything is going to be fine. Shh.” He then hugged her once more tightly before he turned around to his colleague who had been watching the spectacle curiously from farther away. “Hank, carry on to the crime scene with out me. I have to get her home to Juliette!”

After Nick had brought the sobbing girl to his house, Juliette had patched her up and the two of them were sitting on the couch. (Y/n) was cuddled up in a comfy green blanket, her knees pulled up to her chest and a cup of steaming tea in her hands. After a few minutes of silence during which Juliette intently watched her guest, she spoke up. “So (Y/n), tell me about your boyfriend. How did you meet?”

Leaning back against the pillows the younger girl started to tell her story. “Well, Tray and I, we met at school, we shared some of the classes. It was love at first sight”, she sighed thinking of the wonderful time they had together, “We went on a lot of romantic dates – pick-nicks at the beach, candle light dinner, ice skating under the starry sky – and he was such a loving and caring guy. The both of us originally lived in (y/h/t) but Tray received an amazing job offer here in Portland, so we moved. The first few months everything was amazing, life in a big city was unknown and exiting to us.”

The girl’s face fell as she continued: “But then he lost his job. It was a horrible time for the both of us. I had to earn the money to pay all the costs, we had to move from our nice house to a tiny apartment.” (Y/n) inhaled deeply and then exhaled shakily trying to keep calm. “Tray started drinking a lot more frequently and after a while he often brought other women home. Most of the time I ignored them. He then started to act abusive towards me, hitting me, screaming at me.” At this point tears silently rolled down her cheeks. Juliette moved to pull her into a hug as (Y/n) sobbed out: “And the worse thing is that I can’t leave because I have no where to go!”

Meanwhile Nick had made his way to (Y/n)’s apartment. He stormed in finding her boyfriend sitting on the couch a beer in his hand and pointed his gun at him. This of course made him really angry and unfortunately and to Nick’s surprise he started to woge into a Siegbarste. “Don’t you dare move!” The mutual surprise that Nick was a Grimm was evident in Tray’s eyes but was quickly overshadowed by rage. Nick moved closer to the guy as he spoke furiously but still unusually calm. “Now listen closely, if you ever lay another hand on (Y/n) or any other girl for that matter in an abusive way I will know and I will come back and do what my ancestors would be proud of. So don’t you dare!” Leaving the threat hanging in air Nick left.

The next day the Grimm went over to his Wesen friend’s house. Nick and Monroe were standing in the tidy kitchen talking about the current case that the two detectives were working on. “Thanks, I’ll check that out.” Nick thanked his friend for his help and was about to turn away when he remembered something.

“By the way, I need to ask you for another favour.” “What?”, Monroe replied after sighing and rolling his eyes. “I need you to look after someone for me.” “Really? After what happened the last two times?”, the Blutbad replied surprised, “I don’t think I’m the right choice.” Monroe held his hands up apologetically and moved back a step.

“You’re the only choice. She’s a friend of mine... or rather an acquaintance. At the moment she has no place to stay ‘cause at the moment she shares an apartment with her abusive boyfriend”, Nick tried to convince his friend, then quickly added: “Who’s a Siegbarste by the way.”

At that comment his friend’s eyes widened in shock. “Really? You’re kidding me, right? A Siegbarste. Come on”, Monroe said disbelievingly. The cop tried to reason with him. “I can’t let her stay at Hank’s – he has no idea how to handle Wesen, and I have the feeling her boyfriend might come and look for her even though I warned him. She can’t stay at my place ‘cause I want to keep Juliette out of all of this.” “You still haven’t told her?”, the Blutbad asked. Nick nodded as a response. “Man, and now I have to deal with a Siegbarste.” “Please?”, the young man plead. Sighing Monroe replied: “OK, fine. But you owe me one!”

A few hours later that day Nick and (Y/n) stood on the porch of the blue house knocking on the door with the stained glass window. Shortly after the door was opened and Monroe welcomed them in, hugging Nick and politely shaking hands with (Y/n). “So... (Y/n), this is my friend Monroe”, the Grimm addressed the young woman pointing at the other male/man who had just closed the door behind them. “He has kindly agreed to let you spend a few nights here.”

“Thank you very much. It is very kind of you to let me stay”, she thanked smiling. Monroe who was a little struck by her beauty replied: “No problem, I’m happy I could help.” Taking her jacket and hanging it on a hook the Blutbad then showed his guest to the living room. “Make yourself at home. I still have to quickly discuss something with Nick and I’ll show you around afterwards.” (Y/n) nodded understandingly and then settled in on the sofa while the two men made their way into the neat little kitchen.

As soon as the two of them were out of hearing distance Monroe turned to look at his friend. “So you say she was hit by a Siegbarste?”, the brunette asked disbelievingly. “Yeah!” “Surprises me that someone that petite would survive those hits”, he remarked looking through the open kitchen door at the girl sitting on his sofa. Turning back to his companion he then let out a whisper. “So does she know about... you know? Does she know... about us?” “About Wesen? No”, Nick shook his head, “and I’d like to keep it that way. She’s been through enough lately without knowing.” “OK, good.”

After their short talk the cop quickly said his goodbyes and left.

The two of them spent the next hour touring the house and talking about the old clocks that Monroe had restored. “So, would you like a cup of tea?”, Monroe kindly asked his guest. “Yeah, sure”, (Y/n) answered happily. While Nick’s friend was busy in the kitchen making them a pot of tea, the young woman was setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table in the living room.

Just then the door bell rang. “I’ll go get it”, (Y/n) called out to her host? Walking towards the wooden door. But before she reached it the door was kicked open violently, broken parts of the door flying into the room, revealing a big muscular man – Tray, (Y/n)’s boyfriend – who was seething with anger. (Y/n) ran into the kitchen, pulling at Monroe’s beige knitted jacket. “It’s him! Help me! He’s here!”, she cried out terrified tears starting to pool in her beautiful eyes. Monroe couldn’t stand her looking like this and everyone who would cause this state on being.

That was when Tray came into the kitchen breaking some stuff on his way over. Stepping into the kitchen the burly man grabbed (Y/n)’s arm and forcefully pulled her towards him but before she was too close to him Monroe intervened by punching his opponent. This resulted in Tray loosening his grip on his ex-girlfriend, who Nick’s friend immediately pushed behind himself further into the kitchen.

Suddenly the intruder woged and turned into his true form as a Siegebarste. Seeing this elicited a noise of shock and fright out of the girl. Tray started attacking Monroe aggressively. As the Blutbad didn’t want to scare his guest he at first fought back in his human form. Obviously he stood no chance against the brute power and force of his taller opponent.

“Quick! Call Nick! The phone’s on the table”, he hurriedly advised (Y/n), who followed his orders. As soon as she heard the detective pick up on the other end she gushed: “He’s here! We need your help! Monroe’s fighting him!” “I’m on my way!”, was all she received as an answer before Nick hung up.

Right then a loud crash was heard caused by Monroe being thrown into a wooden table, which collapsed under the weight of the man. Now being as furious as Monroe was he as well woged. This caught Tray off-guard which the Blutbad used to his advantage by immediately throwing his rival across the room which resulted in a shelf with some cookbooks toppling to the floor.

That was when loud footsteps and car doors getting slammed was heard. Both Monroe and Tray turned back into their human forms just as a heavy armed police squad followed by Nick ran in through the broken door only a few pieces of wood still hanging from the hinges. While the rest of the police squad circled Tray, two officers tried to put him in handcuffs, but of course this didn’t go well and because of his Siegebarste nature Tray knocked them out cold with ease. One of the police men was quick-witted and shot him in the leg which resulted in him crumpling together, loosing his strength through the pain. Now they were able to put him in handcuffs and move the attacker out of the premises.

As the other police officers moved out of the house and left Nick stayed behind. The detective moved over to his friend and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m really sorry about this. I had hoped he wouldn’t find her. You are alright though?” “Yeah, Nick. I’m fine. Everything is fine”, the Blutbad answered exhausted. “Is she hurt?”, his friend inquired. “No”, Monroe shook his head, “she’s fine.”

Once Nick had left Monroe moved over to (Y/n) who was sitting on the couch staring into thin air. “Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened there. And I totally understand if you are scared of me because of what you’ve seen. I’ll ask Nick if you can stay at his place or maybe Hank’s”, he ended the silence a hint of sadness lacing itself into his voice.

“Hey, hey. Slow down. I’m fine with staying here.” “Really?” “Yeah! Now come here”, she assured him with a smile. (Y/n) stood up grabbing Monroe’s wrist and pushing him to sit on the sofa. “We gotta get you cleaned up.” “No. I’m fine. I can do it by myself”, he said and started to push himself up off of the chesterfield. “No!” The girl sternly looked at him making him sit back down.

She got up and went into the kitchen. Coming back with a clean and damp cloth she sat down on the coffee table in front of Monroe, one of his legs on either side of her. (Y/n) leaned forward wanting to dab his wounds but Monroe stopped her. “No, don’t do it. I know you’re scared of me! You don’t have to do this!” “Monroe! Stop defying me! I’m not scared of you!” She swatted his hand, that he had raised to interfere with her plan of helping him, away.

“You’re not?” “No, why should I?” “But... but... you saw me.” “Yeah. And?” The two of them went silent. Monroe stared at his guest filled with curiosity and surprise. (Y/n) turned her head away out of embarrassment. When she turned back she looked at the floor.

After a few seconds of debating she shyly looked back at the older man in front of her. “Can I...? Can I... maybe see you do that again?” “You sure?” “Yeah.” “Okay... uhm... remember this is just me and that I would never hurt you.” He took a deep breath and nervously muttered a ‘here goes nothing’ under his breath.

Then he woged.

At first (Y/n) moved back a little in surprise but then a big warm and friendly smile made its way onto her face. Leaning forward she carefully put her hand on Monroe’s furry cheek and quietly whispered: “You’re beautiful.” Without noticing the Blutbad turned back. His eyes were starting to water in appreciation. The two of them were only a few inches apart from each other. Their eyes were locked into each other. Monroe carefully put his big hand onto (Y/n)’s soft cheek making her lean downwards towards him. In seconds their lips were upon each other. At first the kiss was shy and gentle but it grew more and more passionate.

That night panting and howling was to be heard from the Blutbad’s house but not because of his true nature as a Wesen (if you know what I mean ;) ). And they lived happily ever after.

The End

#monroe x reader #monroe #grimm monroe #grimm #grimm fanfiction #grimm imagine #x reader #x you #reader insert #fanfiction #imagine #nick burkhardt

287 notes · View notes

rahirah · 5 years

Note

Okay, I KNOW you've reblogged that "DVD commentary" meme at some point in your life, so: would you like to do DVD commentary on the opening scene of "My Baby Is A Centerfold"? (Or less detailed commentary on the whole "My Baby Is A Centerfold"?)

My Baby Is A Centerfold DVD Commentary

I wrote this story in 2004, fifteen years ago, so fair warning, I don't recall a lot of the minutiae that went through my head when I was writing it. However, I will do my best!

This was one of the first short stories I wrote set in the same universe as my novel series. I wrote it for the Summer of Spike community over on Livejournal – Summer of Spike was, I believe, the first of the "seasonal" fic communities, and inspired a lot of imitators (including Seasonal Spuffy and Summer of Giles, which are still going to this day) but it only lasted for a couple of rounds. Anyway, someone had recently asked me what happened to the Trio in my 'verse. I already knew that the Trio had started their careers as criminal masterminds while the events of Necessary Evils were going on, and that after NE ends, Warren would try enslaving Katrina in pretty much the same way, Katrina would end up dead, and Warren would try to frame Buffy. Buffy being in a very different frame of mind by this point in my 'verse, while she initially panics at the thought that she accidentally killed someone, Spike and Dawn are able to convince her to investigate first. And of course they discover that Katrina's been dead for several hours, so they call the police and that's when Terminal Line takes place, and Buffy makes first contact with Detective Nguyen, who becomes a recurring NPC and eventually the captain of the Sunnydale PD and is instrumental in Buffy's plan to bring the supernatural out in the open and ANYWAY.

For this story I wanted to do a lighthearted buddy cop sort of thing with Spike and Dawn, and it occurred to me that the Trio would have had to have set up their spy camera system, but since they all got arrested after the Katrina incident, they never had the chance to do anything with the footage. And in my 'verse, some of that footage would have been pretty racy. So what would happen if Buffy and Spike found out about it? The story pretty much wrote itself from there.

I could tell something was wrong the minute I walked in the door. The house had that too-quiet thundercloud feeling about it, and it wasn't just because of the blackout curtains. Buffy was still at the rink, Tara was at her summer job, and Willow was probably asleep (she's not as much of an early riser as Spike is). Normally this means an afternoon of bad TV and junk food with Spike, but the TV wasn't on. Spike always has the TV on.

So this story takes place between Necessary Evils and A Parliament of Monsters, when Spike has moved in with Buffy and Dawn, and Willow and Tara are renting the Summers's basement. It always bugged me that the characters on the show only had to worry about work when the plot required it. When the writers get bored, Buffy can suddenly support a dozen people on a starting school counselor's salary. So while I try not to make a huge deal of it in my 'verse, I do a lot of thinking about how everyone supports themselves. Especially people like Tara, who's sure as hell not getting any money from her family. And with Buffy I wanted to give her a day job that A) she would enjoy, and B) would be flexible with regard to slaying. Which is how she became a skating instructor.

When Spike moved in there was a whole big reshuffling thing, like musical chairs with bedrooms, and Spike ended up getting my old room as an office for Bloody Vengeance Inc., the demon-hunting business he and Anya started. I figured he was probably holed up in there downloading porn or something. Never overlook an opportunity to collect blackmail material is my motto. I dumped my library books on the couch and snuck upstairs with super-Slayer's-sister stealth, which wouldn't do me any good at all if Spike was actually, like, paying attention to his super-keen vampire hearing. Which apparently he wasn't, since I got all the way upstairs without a single physically impossible threat bellowed in my direction.

I had an argument about this with another fic writer once – she felt that Spike threatening Dawn with physical harm was abusive and horrible, and Dawn would be traumatized for life. I pointed out that A) it's canon that Spike does this when he's worried about Dawn's safety, and B) even if you're not a soulless vampire, it's really common for fear in a de facto parental unit to express itself as anger, C) does anyone seriously believe that Spike would ever follow through on any of those over the top threats? Seriously? And D) Dawn canonically blows off said threats and does not appear to actually feel threatened in the slightest. We ended up agreeing to disagree.

Spike was in the office, all right--I could see his hair glowing in the light of the computer monitor. I couldn't see what he was looking at, but whatever it was, it must have been really good, 'cause his eyeballs were practically SuperGlued to the screen. Or maybe really bad, because he looked horrified, not turned on. OK, what horrified William the Bloody? Besides the prospect of squiring Buffy to "Fantasy On Ice?" This I had to see. I rounded Spike's desk and peered over his shoulder. "Hey, mister, you got feelthy pictures?"

If it was Willow? Two clicks of a mouse's tail and whatever was in that window would be closed, password protected, PGP-encrypted, and accessible only through an FTP server in Outer Mongolia. Spike's way better with technology than some vampires I could name, but when he's taken by surprise he still resorts to more primitive methods. He scrambled around in his chair with the panicky flail of a cat falling off a windowsill and slapped a hand across my eyes. "Don't look!" he ordered, about half an octave higher than usual.

This story is full of early 2000s-computer jargon. It's not quite as dated as the show itself, but I give it the ol' college try.

Which meant it was a moral imperative for me to put some of that self-defense training he'd been giving me into practice and kick him in the shins--oh, come on, you'd have done it, too. "Fuck!" Spike yelled. He grabbed for his ankle, overbalanced, and banged his head on the edge of the desk as his chair rolled out from under him. He crashed to the floor, leaving me with a free-and-clear view of the computer.

For someone who's been accused of writing the Everybody Loves Spike Show, I sure have him behave like an idiot a lot.

Now, I want to make it real clear that I'm a sixteen-year-old of the world. I know all about the birds and the bees and the vampires. I've even done a little buzzing myself. And of course I know that my sister and Spike have--well, 'having sex' is way too tame for what they do. Anyway, I know all about The Sex in theory. I also know how sausages are made, in theory. That doesn't mean I'm panting for an up-close at the gooey details of either process. Especially when it involves a grainy RealPlayer file of my very naked sister bouncing up and down on my very naked best-friend-and-platonic-lust-object in Barbie's S&M Playhouse.

I may have written this whole story just to have an excuse to use the term "Barbie's S&M Playhouse."

I may have said something. It may have been 'gleep.' Luckily for my retinas, at that minute Spike lunged up over the edge of the desk and put his fist through the screen. The monitor exploded in a shower of pretty green sparks, and Spike stood there glaring at it all clenchy-jawed and snarly, breathing hard through his teeth. He turned the glare on me. "I swear by all that's unholy, Bit, the next time you sneak up on me like that I'm going to put you in a two-by-three box without benefit of hacksaw!"

Monitors! With! TUBES!!!

I glared right back--no way was he going to make this my fault. "How was I supposed to know you were watching Vampire Pervert Theater 3000?" I snapped. "I thought you were just watching NORMAL porn! Jeez, Spike, if you and Buffy are gonna to videotape your stay in the Satellite of Love, at least--"

I had another discussion with a beta about whether or not Spike would download porn. My argument was "He's a guy."

Spike vamped out and hurled the monitor clean off the desk and into the wall with a roar (and when I say 'roar,' I don't mean 'loud yell,' I mean 'roar') of "WE DIDN'T BLOODY WELL TAPE IT!"

Wow. I never knew monitors were made up of that many pieces. "You mean you taped it without telling her?" I squeaked.

"NO!" Spike flexed his computer-punching hand (bloody knuckles, shards of glass, v. sexy) and shook off the lumpies. "Someone soon-to-be-departed did! I've never seen the sodding thing before in my life!" He looked really bewildered underneath the homicidal fury.

It's really very interesting to go back and compare Early Barbverse Spike to Late Barbverse Spike in terms of what progress he makes (or doesn't make) in controlling his temper over the course of the series. Hopefully I make the progression believable.

"OK, where did you find it?" I asked. I didn't exactly want to say so, but it occurred to me that maybe Buffy had taped it without telling him. Buffy may play it all Sandra Dee on the outside, but on the inside? Pure Gypsy Rose Lee. She had to keep it all bottled up during The Angel Years, and during The Riley Years she had to be really careful not to break him, and now, well--Exhibit A, currently lying in ten zillion pieces on the floor. "Was the file just sitting on your hard drive, or...?"

Spike looked super-guilty all of a sudden. His head ducked down between his shoulders, vampire ninja turtle style. "Mighthaveclickedonalinksomethin'boutSlayers," he mumbled.

"In other words, you were surfing for Slayer porn?" I folded my arms and settled in for some primo foot-tapping. "Don't you get enough of that at home?"

The interesting thing about the Buffyverse is that the supernatural ISN'T really a secret. Tons of people know about it. It's just no one admits to knowing about it. Which makes my Buffy's job a lot easier when she decides to drag it out of the closet. Which is a roundabout way of saying, if you know where to look, of course there would be Slayer fetish websites.

"I was not! I just...happened on it, like, looking for something else!" Spike is the world's second worst liar (Willow is the winner and still champeen) and he could see I wasn't buying it. "And anyway, it's a bloody good thing I did! Christ knows how long that's been out there for any spotty little deviant with their mum's credit card number to--" His eyes went Inuyasha-huge as fresh horror overtook him. "How long has it been out there?"

Barbverse Dawn is a Sesshumaru fangirl for sure.

"I'm more worried about who the cameraman was," I said. Spiders walked up my spine for a second. "I mean, that was your bedroom, right?"

Two seconds later we burst in through the door of Mom's old room, now Buffy and Spike's House of Ill Repute. I dove for the closet and Spike ripped open the door of the big old mahogany wardrobe he'd dragged over from the crypt. (But he didn't go inside, because as everyone knows, it's very foolish to shut yourself inside a wardrobe.) I stared at the crush of cute tops and kicky boots, ooh, I bet Buffy won't miss this one, she hasn't worn it in weeks... "How many shoes does she OWN?" I pulled a box free and the whole Leaning Tower Of Gucci collapsed on me.

My fic is usually a game of Spot the Narnia Reference

"Stop larking about," Spike growled, grabbing my feebly waving hand and yanking me out of the sea of footwear. "By the angle it's got to be around here somewhere..." He did one of those effortless vampire leaps and chinned himself on the top of the wardrobe, peering over the facade of wooden curlicues on the top. "Got the bastard!" He snaked one arm over the rim and jerked something small and black free, and dropped back to the floor with a thump. "What the hell...?"

It was a tiny, palm-sized camera with a little antenna sticking out of the top. Witness the creepiness. "I'm freaking out here," I said, plopping down on the bed. "Someone actually broke into our house and hid that up there!"

Spike snarled and closed his fist, and the camera joined the monitor in Electronics Heaven before I could yell, "Wait, that's evidence!"

"Not any more, it's not."

"It could lead us back to whoever planted it," I said impatiently. "We could have woken Willow up and had her...I don't know, do something technical."

This is why Spike needs Dawn around. She's the criminal mastermind in the family.

"Point." Spike shoved his lower lip out and scowled. "If there's one, there may be more. In fact, there's got to be."

I blinked. "How can you tell?"

He looked guilty and embarrassed again. "Ah, well, you see, the web site said...

For a guy supposedly unable to feel remorse, Spike does guilty and embarrassed very well.

*****

"Oh, as they say, my God." Xander stared at the tiny repeating clip with sick fascination. "'The Hottest Slayer in a Century Meets The Coolest Vampire Ever, and Guess Who Gets Staked! Sizzling Action With Cold, Dead Seed!' And this is just the teaser. You can order a whole DVD, only $49.99. Hours of fun for the whole family."

I am pretty sure that Jonathan got Andrew to write that advertising copy.

"Well, I must say both of you have excellent technique," Anya said with an approving nod. "And Spike has a large and well-formed penis, though personally I prefer circumcised men. But I can certainly understand why you're upset if you're not getting your rightful share of the profits."

"Spike, could you cool it with the growly noises?" Willow asked, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "It's distracting. OK, there's definitely more cameras... six at least. The Magic Box, the skating rink, Spike's crypt...this one's dead... Directory, directory, who's got the root directory...hah! Xander, hand me that Unicode list."

I actually researched what all Willow would have had to do to hack into and take over the camera network. I've forgotten it all now, but for about five minutes there, my skilz were l33t.

"What I still don't get is why someone bothered to break into our house and plant cameras," I said from the opposite end of the dining room table. I was staying as far away from follow-the-bouncing-Buffy as possible. "Especially considering Spike would have ripped their heads off if he'd caught them, and Buffy would have gotten REALLY mean. If you want to make a sex film, why not just go over to one of the frat houses on campus and hire a couple of college students?"

"I hate to say it, Dawnie, but I don't think they were making a porn film." Xander tore himself away from Willow's laptop. "This is surveillance camera footage. Someone's been spying on Buffy, and the porn film is just a happy byproduct."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Willow muttered. She picked up one of the larger camera fragments with a pair of tweezers. "Look, it's all dusty, and the battery pack was dead. This hasn't worked for weeks, maybe months. Do we have any toner cartridges we could break open? I think we could use the toner as fingerprint powder, and if whoever installed these left any prints, and if Spike didn't smudge them all up with his macho camera-crushing..."

This was back when printer cartridges had loose toner in them. I had just come off working for a place where we bough giant bags of loose toner and refilled our own cartridges because it was cheaper, and by God, that stuff got EVERYWHERE.

"Oh, right, blame the victim," Spike groused. "Christ, I need a fag." He stomped over to the kitchen door, and I got up and followed him out to the back porch, which was in shadow at this time of day. He lit a cigarette and stood there puffing furiously, all formal and stiff, and it weirded me out. I mean, Spike doesn't just walk or stand or sit. Spike struts and lounges and sprawls and tucks his thumbs in his belt all "Hi, I'm Spike, and this is my crotch!"

On the other hand, somewhere underneath Spike, Vampire Sex God, is still a guy who grew up when ankles were an erogenous zone. "Spike...are you OK?"

"Didn't want you to see that," he said at last. "Not right. Not proper."

He looked absolutely miserable. Any other time I'd have patted his shoulder, but I figured I'd better roll my eyes instead. I leaned against the side of the house, ultra-cool and sophisticated and untroubled by the certain knowledge of Naked Spike a mere two layers of cloth away. "It's OK. Honest. It's not like I've never seen a naked guy before--"

So in my verse, as in canon, Dawn had a crush on Spike. And she knows perfectly well that Spike's in love with her sister, and doesn't see her that way. And she loves her sister, and wants her to be happy, and she doesn't want to be (as she puts it in another story) "pathetic" about it. So she's tried very hard to squash her crush down and pretend it doesn't exist. But sometimes...

That was a mistake. Spike went yellow-eyed, achieving zero to over-protective in six seconds. "And just who the hell--"

"You and Xander, dope, when we all went skinny dipping after that clambake. Get your mind out of the gutter." Of course vague glimpses of guy-parts decently veiled by darkness and ice-cold seawater and didn't quite, uh, measure up to, well, let's just say I'm going to be comparing my future boyfriends to Spike in more ways than one, but you know, I wasn't going to let this be weird. Spike is a total hottie, and maybe, just maybe there have been a few daydreams. Detailed daydreams. With a sound track and special effects. But there are hotties all over the planet, and not all that many guys you can talk to about important stuff like whether or not you really existed before two years ago, and whether the monks that created you remembered to add a standard-issue soul to the mix, and how incredibly annoying older sisters can be. "On second thought, I'm deeply traumatized. I think I might get over it if you talked Buffy into letting me get my navel pierced."

Spike stared at me, various bits of him twitching. "Dawn--"

I patted his shoulder, because I could. "You're gonna be inhaling filter in a minute. Let's go inside."

When we got back inside, Willow had bit and pieces of camera wired up to the laptop. "Curiouser and curiouser," she said. "The server this camera was supposed to send information to doesn't exist any longer, or at least, it's not turned on. The web site's on a regular commercial server, and the domain name's registered to Horatio Hellpop--pseudonym much? Good news, it looks like the site's only been up for a couple of days--" She broke into a triumphant grin. "We're in!"

"What're you waiting for, then?" Spike doesn't usually use his sire-to-minion voice on Willow, but he was using it now. "Take it down!"

It's not relevant to the tale at hand, so I don't belabor it here, but this Willow is a vampire with a soul. It's a long story.

"Patience, Grasshopper." Willow typed a few more cryptic strings of symbols into the laptop. "Bad news, it's going to take me a few hours to find out who the owner really is. I'll have to hack into Paypal to get his bank account info and track IP addresses and stuff."

I did not research what it would take to hack into Paypal. I have my limits.

Spike began pacing back and forth, tense and borderline vampy, looking like he really, really wanted to kill something. Or someone. "And in that time this berk could run off a hundred more copies and pass 'em out to friends as door prizes."

"Or keep them and sell fifty-seven of them to the list of people I'm downloading now," Willow said. "OK. I've disabled the site and changed the passwords, so no one will be able to order any more." She cracked her knuckles. "Give me six hours and I can clean out Larry Flynt Junior's bank account, ruin his credit history, and send anonymous tips to Donald Rumsfeld that he's a terrorist child pornographer." Willow's a little less scary without her magic, but really? Not by that much. She looked around. "Not that I would ever do anything like that."

I mean really. "Hacker" may be a 90s cliche, but I still wouldn't want one mad at me.

Spike snatched the list of names and credit card numbers off the printer and squinted at it. "Bloody hell. There's addresses all the way from Juneau to Key West." He looked at the list again, and smiled. Need I say it wasn't a very nice smile? "I think it's time to pay a visit to the locals. Could be some of them have an idea who they're ordering from. Harris, you want to take out the rest of those cameras, and--" He turned to Willow. "Will, when Buffy gets home, for God's sake don't let her suss out anything's wrong. If she finds out about this..."

My Spike still needs glasses, but is too vain to wear them. I have a number of canonical justifications for this headcanon.

All of us shuddered in unison. If Buffy found out there would be an explosion of thermonuclear proportions. Spike grabbed his motorcycle jacket and blanket and headed for the front door, and I leaped to my feet and ran after him. "Wait up! I'm going with you!"

He scowled at me. "I think not. You're going to stay here, and distract your sister like a good little minor."

"Uh-uh." I used all of my hey-Dawnie's-tall-now height to advantage. "Look, Spike, all this stuff getting out does to you is make you mad. If Buffy finds out, she's going to be..." I floundered for a minute. " Humiliated, and nobody humiliates my sister except me. I'm gonna go with you, and we're gonna find out who did it and...and... kick their butts with pointy-toed shoes."

Spike glared, but it was the old I-disapprove-on-principle-but-you're-all-right,-Niblet glare, and I knew he'd be caving in ten, nine, eight... "Move yer girly arse, then," he said with an unconvincing growl. "We've got villains to apprehend."

I scooted for the DeSoto before he could change his mind. Maybe he thought that it would be a good idea to have someone soul-having around when he was this mad, just in case. Or maybe, and I really prefer this version, he just wanted a partner in crime because it's more fun that way. Spike flung the blanket over his head and copied my dash for the car, and we flung ourselves into the DeSoto's dark interior just as Spike was beginning to sizzle. "You come along, you mind what I tell you, yeah? I say stay in the car, you stay in the car. I say you run, you run. I say you take that fucking pathetic excuse for music out of the CD player and toss it out the window--"

"--and I ignore you like always," I said cheerfully, turning up the Jennifer Lopez.

"Fine. If anyone dies tonight, it's on your head. Some things are beyond any self-respecting vampire's endurance." Spike slammed into reverse and backed out of the driveway with a screech of tires. I grabbed the door handle. Driving with Spike is always a character-building experience, and today was no exception. "First on the hit parade?"

I scanned the list. "Vernon Blakely, 1583 East Beechwood. What are we gonna say to Mr. Blakely when we get there?"

Spike gazed out through the little clean space in the windshield, obviously pondering which limb he should rip off first, and peeled out like there was a mob with torches after us. "Improvisation is a virtue, Bit."

I had absolutely no idea how they would get the DVDs back. The next several scenes are just me letting the characters take the reins and do whatever the hell they wanted to.

**********

Spike was smoking gently beneath his blanket when the shade-deficient door of 1583 East Beechwood opened to our urgent hammering, and a middle-aged guy with thinning red hair and freckles and a pot belly opened it and blinked at us. He looked like Mr. Weasley gone to seed. "Mr. Blakely?" I said with my brightest, shiniest smile.

The Blakely looked from me to Spike, and the contrast seemed to produce some kind of cognitive dissonance on his part. "Can I... have we met?"

"Only in spirit." Spike leaned heavily against the doorframe, with a smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring, but which made him look like he was sporting fangs even when he wasn't. Spike isn't a big guy--in fact, he's on the smallish side, but he's got, you know, muscles. And this air of being able to rip your liver out. Also did I mention the muscles? "I'm given to understand you made a purchase recently from...ah..." He glanced surreptitiously at the paper in his hand. "...Mad Genius Productions?"

Mr. Blakely looked at me, dubious, and at Spike, nervous. "What of it? If I'd done anything like that, which I didn't."

"We're from the, uh, department of quality control," I chirped. "The DVDs are..."

"Radioactive," Spike put in. "Rot your goolies off just like that. " I gave him an elbow-jab.

"Defective," I said firmly. "Glitches. Pixelization. It's criminal the kind of shoddy merchandise we put out. We're recalling them and giving you a replacement at absolutely no charge!"

Spike held up a jewel case and flashed it under Blakely's nose. "Director's cut. Added scenes. 40% more filth for the price."

Suspicion was gathering in Mr. Blakely's watery blue eyes. "Hey, you're that guy from the video," he said.

Spike heaved a melodramatic sigh. "All right, all right, as you've twisted my arm, I'll autograph it for you."

I honestly did not expect him to say that, but somehow there I was, typing it.

The watery eyes brightened. "Really?"

Five minutes later we were dashing for the car again, with the confused Mr. Blakely waving us goodbye. "So what's he going to do when he discovers he's been suckered for a bootleg copy of J-Lo's latest?" I asked, as we tore away from the curb.

"Long as it's got some bint with her tits hanging out on the cover, I doubt he'll notice the difference." Spike grinned. "There'd just better be some hitting involved in the next one."

**********

"I don't believe there's any such thing as a Department of Quality Control," Mr. Angusson said, looking us up and down. "What the hell kind of scam are you pulling?"

"All we want to do is to replace--" I started.

"Look, missy, I bought that DVD nice and legal, and I don't give a crap if whatever goombah and his girlfriend put on plastic fangs to do it is having second thoughts now. So you and your boyfriend just toddle off and--"

"HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPP!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "HE'S SHOWING ME HIS THING! IT'S ALL GROSS AND PURPLE AND--"

I didn't expect Dawn to do that, either. And yet!

Angusson disappeared and reappeared in two seconds flat, chucking the DVD at our heads.

"Better," Spike said as we tore out yet again. "But I'm still feeling a lack in the hitting things area."

Mr. Fishbein retreated a step from the threshold. "I'm not giving you anything, and I'm not letting you in," he quavered. "What do you think I am, stupid? You're a vampire!"

Honestly, it's Sunnydale. SOMEONE has to get it.

Spike rolled his eyes. He's learned from the masters. "Oh, bollocks, you don't really believe--"

"Oh, yeah?" Fishbein challenged. "Step through that door!"

I stepped through the door, grabbed Fishbein's hand and gave him a good hard yank, right across the threshold and into Spike's waiting fist.

"What was that?," Spike caroled, drawing back for another punch. "Come on in and have a cuppa, Spike? Better repeat it, I'm a touch deaf in that ear."

"That was unnecessarily bloody," I said as we hopped into the car and stepped on the gas, one DVD richer.

"He'll live," Spike said dismissively. "Probably. Next?"

**********

I figured I had to give Spike SOME violence, or he'd get mopey.

"Can you see--?" I hissed, trying to get a better view through the front window. It was getting dark, and I was out of practice at sneaking around not-really-abandoned buildings. Spike shushed me and crept around to the door. I peered through the sad straggly thevetia hedge, cupping my hands against the dirty glass. The place was just crawling with innnnnnteresting monsters, all huddled around a crappy old black and white TV. There's some law against demons watching flatscreen color, apparently.

"Oh, my God, are they really...you know....doing it?" The Gorthesch demon bumped a couple of Fyarls further down on the couch and plunged a scaly paw into the bowl of popcorn as they all stared at the flickering screen. "With a Slayer? I mean, I heard about it, but I didn't think even a vampire could sink that low."

"Real vampires don't," the lone vampire in the crowd protested, voice dripping disgust. "Maybe great big Slayer-whipped pussies do, but--"

"Shut up!" came a chorus of squeaky, growly, and croaky voices. Despite the complaints, everyone seemed to like the show. There were tongues hanging out. At least, I hope they were tongues.

"Yeah, it's just gettin' to the good part," a Syvithis demon whispered.

"Oooh! The one with the pommel horse?"

"No, where the Slayer goes down on him in the graveyard and he--"

I actually wrote a PWP detailing all the scenes in The Spuffy Sex Tape. An edited-down version eventually got incorporated into A Parliament of Monsters, when Angelus gets a hold of one of the copies that Spike and Dawn aren't able to track down in this story.

The front door imploded with a crash, splinters flying everywhere, and Spike strode into the room over the wreckage, a gleam in his eye and a really, really big axe slung over one shoulder. He surveyed the assortment of demons with a grin almost as big as the axe and about twice as vicious, ran his tongue over his teeth and and tucked his free thumb in his belt loop, fingers splayed over the merchandise. Just like old times. "Looks like you're right, mate," he said. "We are just getting to the good part."

**********

"OK, I take it back," I said as we headed for home. "THAT was unnecessarily bloody." It was after midnight, and we'd collected twenty-two DVDs, broken and entered fifteen houses and/or lairs, killed or maimed eight demons, broken five human fingers accidentally-on-purpose, and signed two autographs. Spike had definitely achieved his hitting things quota, and it was a safe bet that no one in Sunnydale would be mentioning Spike and Buffy's brief but eventful movie career in public any time soon.

"All right, p'raps the railroad spike was a bit much, but a bloke gets nostalgic." Spike stretched, all luxurious and satisfied, and lit up a fresh cig, trailing smoke out the window. He had a black eye and a split lip and a scrape right across the place where his cheekbone goes all knife-edgy, and the stretching made things creak inside that probably weren't supposed to creak, but he was in a much, much better mood. "He'll grow a new head."

Where did Spike get a railroad spike on short notice? I have no idea. He's just resourceful that way.

"If you say so," I said, a bit dubious. "Doesn't that only happen when you cut the old one off?"

"So it'll take a bit longer." Spike bounced a little in his seat, all hepped up on the old ultra-violence. "Still haven't found the bastard who's selling the things, though. Must be a bleeding criminal mastermind if--" I Wanna Be Sedated beebled from the cell phone in his pocket. (Like I said, a lot better with technology than some vampires I can name. He can even program it, though considering the songs he picks, sometimes we wish he couldn't.) He grabbed the phone one-handed and didn't slow down even a bit as he zipped through freeway traffic. (Well, he is evil.) "Yeh? You must be joking. You must be--fuck. That little--I'll tear his soddin' head off! Yeh, I know. I'll just bruise him a little." He clicked the phone off and stuffed it back in his pocket, spun the wheel and zigged across four lanes of traffic towards the off-ramp, leaving a chorus of screeching brakes behind us. "After I tear his soddin' head off."

"Where are we going?" I yelled.

Spike hunched over the wheel, eyes grim. "Off to see the wizard."

We pulled up in front of one of the cruddy lease-by-the-month apartment buildings over by the UC Sunnydale campus. Maybe it was the same one Dad and I stayed at when he came down from L.A. to take care of Buffy's estate that time she was dead--the second time, I mean, not the first time. Some of the grease spots in the parking lot looked familiar.

It just struck me as I was describing the building that it was almost identical to the one I'd described in Necessary Evils, so I thought I'd better lampshade it.

"Apartment 42B, Will says." Spike sucked in his cheeks and narrowed his eyes, scoping out the disintegrating stucco overhead. "There at the end." He slapped his hands together and bounded towards the stairs like he was scaling Everest. I followed like I was scaling a rickety stepladder. (Hey, lack of supernatural stamina here. I was getting pretty darned tired.) The lights were on in 42B, and we paused outside the door, which was painted in barf-making 80s turquoise. Spike pounded on it with one fist. "Open up! Land shark!"

I heard some rustling and thumping noises inside, and a crash like a bookcase falling over. "Go away!" a strangely familiar voice yelled. "You can't get in here anyway!"

"Yeh? Maybe not, but I can stand out here till you starve to death. Or set the building on fire, or...uh..." Spike paced the catwalk for a second, smoking like a fiend, which I guess is appropriate. I was pretty sure the fire thing was a bluff, since Spike's not usually one for indirect mayhem. He's got the whole hitting things fetish, after all. Then his eyes lit up and he grinned. "Maybe I can't walk through your door, but there's nothing says I can't kick it down and send in my terrible mute minion, Paco." He whirled around and unleashed one of his shitkicker boots at the door. BANG! The whole building shuddered (which sounds impressive, but considering it was probably made out of pressboard and Kleenex, isn't so much). WHAM! A hinge sprung and the doorframe cracked. I buffed my nails and waited--obviously Spike was holding back.

I don't know why more vampires don't do things like this.

"I'm gonna lose my deposit!" the voice inside wailed.

"My heart bleeds. Oh, wait, no it doesn't. Open up, or--"

The door flew open, or tried to (Spike had knocked it kind of cattywompus, and it stuck halfway.) A face peered out, pale and pear-shaped and nervous under slept-in dark hair. Behind it was a barren little studio apartment littered with pizza boxes, comic books, and boxes of DVDs and padded mailers. There was practically no furniture except a mattress and a desk with a pretty sweet computer and home studio setup.

My hand shot out and I grabbed Pasty-face by the ear and pulled, hard. "Jonathan?!" I yipped. Jonathan squirmed and batted at me, but I dug my nails in. "YOU'RE the criminal mastermind?"

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" he yelled. "Let me go, don't let him kill me, I didn't mean to, it's not my fault!"

"Oh, for God's sake, quit whining," I snapped, letting go. "Spike hasn't even touched you."

Spike took a drag on his cigarette, peeled himself off the railing and sort of glided over, all slouchy and menacing, with the angle of the floodlights leaving black caverns where his eyes should be. Jonathan squinched in on himself. "You just don't learn, do you?" Spike asked, soft and pee-your-pants scary. "How long've you had those cameras on us?"

Jonathan backed away with a panicky shuffle. "They're not mine! They were Warren's, and they haven't worked since the police confiscated all his computer stuff! Honest! I just happened to have some files I'd saved for, for--"

"Wanking material?" Spike asked, excessively sarcastic.

"Research!" Jonathan reached the wall and sat down very abruptly. "I didn't mean anything by it! All I wanted was to raise some money so Warren and Andrew could get a better lawyer! Someone who knows about demon-related cases, like Goldberg & Osbourne, or Wolfram & Hart. I didn't think you'd ever find out, and I'm really, really, really sorry, please don't kill me, please, please, PLEASE don't kill me--"

Goldberg & Osbourne is a real law firm in Phoenix, AZ, known for being sleazy ambulance-chasers. A joke that only I ever got.

"Didn't mean anything by dragging a lady's reputation in the dirt?" Spike roared (and again, by roared, I mean, well, roared). He grabbed Jonathan by his Robotech jammies and hauled him up nose-to-nose--Jonathan's one of the few guys Spike can look down on. "Well, maybe I won't mean anything when I rip your balls off and stuff them in your eye sockets, how's that?"

"Why?" I asked, grabbing Spike's arm. I realized I'd been wanting to ask that question for a long time. "Why, Jonathan? I mean, I get Warren and whatsisface--they had grudges against Buffy, but you used to be--" Well, not her friend, not really. "She saved your life! You gave her the Class Protector award! She let you off the hook when she turned Warren over to the cops--you were an accessory to murder, Jonathan, and she let you go! I don't get it. Why are you helping them?"

Jonathan yanked his pajama top out of Spike's grip and pulled himself up like he'd taken a dose of Insta-Spine. "Because they're my friends," he said, very simply, meeting Spike's yellowing eyes head-on. "And I know they're not much, but they're all I've got. Whatever else happens, you've got to stand by your friends, right? Or what's the point?" He sighed, squared his shoulders, and looked up at Spike with a little smile. "It's a fair cop. I guess you'd better do whatever it is you're going to do."

I wanted Jonathan to redeem himself a little bit, kinda?

Spike stood there looking at Jonathan, head cocked in the His Master's Voice pose he gets when he's trying really, really hard to figure out the motivations of the souled. And I knew what was going through his head. Spike was looking for a reason not to kill him.

See, Spike doesn't have a soul. He doesn't do good stuff because it's right. He can't. He's not wired that way, as he puts it. But he can do good stuff if there's a reason--like if it helps him somehow, or makes someone he loves happy. Or if it makes him feel, for a minute, like he's a man and not a monster, which is a feeling he really likes. And that's the cool thing about Spike, the thing I really love about him, and I think probably the thing Buffy loves too: not the cheekbones or the attitude or the mad combat skilz or what's under those jeans, but that he does like that feeling, and so Spike looks for those reasons. Looks real hard. Harder, I think sometimes, than some people with souls.

I'm just sayin'.

"Right," he said at last. And he hauled off and punched Jonathan right in the nose.

"YEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOW!" Jonathan fell over, clutching his face, and gore splattered everywhere. "By dose! You broge by dose!"

But still, well, evil.

"Just be glad that's all I've broke," Spike said. He wiped his knuckles on his t-shirt instead of licking the blood off, which was a pretty big compliment, really. Congratulations, Jonathan, you've graduated to Not-Food! "Christ, where's the fun in beating the shit out of a pathetic little wibbling sod like you?" He pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket (that's another moderately cool thing about Spike: he carries pocket handkerchiefs) and tossed it to Jonathan. "Grab the goods, Bit. It's time to call it a night."

Jonathan sat there snorfling blood into the hanky while I ferried the DVDs and Jonathan's hard drive out to Spike--I figured Willow could check it out for contraband and return it, so we weren't stealing it exactly. As we started down the stairs with the last armload, Spike turned back to Jonathan, almost amiable. "Word to the wise. I don't forget what your friends put Buffy through. If you want to do your pals a real favor, maybe you ought to remember that while I'm out here, and they're safe in stir, no one's likely to get eaten accidental-like, eh?"

Now this! At the time that I wrote this, I had NO IDEA that Warren would come back and cause trouble later, and that Spike would, in fact, end up eating him. Indeed, by the time I wrote "The Lesser of Two Evils," I had completely forgotten that I'd written this line, and when I stumbled upon it when re-reading a couple of years later, it was this totally serendipitous piece of foreshadowing. Sometimes writing is so cool!

Jonathan stared at him, and nodded a little. And we left.

**********

It was past two o'clock when we got home. We locked the DVDs in the trunk of the DeSoto, which had been the closet for a lot of other skeletons in its day, and after a short consultation on how to best avoid Ordeal By Buffy, we strolled into the house as if we were coming in from a late patrol and nothing in the universe was wrong.

Willow was still tapping away at her laptop in the dining room. "I'm just tracking down the copies on eBay," she whispered, "and sending out fake cease and desist orders from Mad Genius Productions. Buffy's in bed. She doesn't suspect a thing." She noted our alarmed glances and added, a bit huffily, "Don't worry, Xander took care of the the subterfuge part. Did you get him?"

"Yeh, he's got." Spike rolled his head and rubbed back of his neck. "Battle of the ages. Christ, I'm glad that's done with." He eyed our crumpled list of victims thoughtfully. "Wonder if I could fake a business trip to Juneau."

"Don't press your luck," Willow said drily.

"Someday I'm going to sire someone with a minimum of respect for their elders," Spike growled.

Willow grinned, smug. "And they'll bore you so much you'll stake them inside forty-eight hours. Shoo. Buffy's waiting for you."

So we headed for the stairs, and as I put my foot on the first step, I heard Spike heave a big sigh behind me. "Thanks, Bit. Couldn't have managed without you." When I looked back, he was staring at the toes of his boots, all awkward and embarrassed. "I just hope this hasn't... hasn't..."

"Spike, I'll always think of you as my brother." I waited two beats, and added with a perfectly straight face, "My brother with the enormous schlong."

I got three whole steps before Spike came after me and chased me all the way upstairs.

This story is the second of three I wrote ("The Road to Byzantium" and "A Dark and Stormy Night" are numbers one and three) which has Dawn moving on from her crush and into a more grown-up friendship with Spike as a major theme, and hopefully it works. And they all lived happily ever after, at least until I got another idea!

#btvs #fic discussion #thenewbuzwuzz #spuffy #fan fiction #dvd commentary

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whywelovevideogames-theblog-blog · 6 years

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Final Fantasy V

What more is there to say about Final Fantasy that hasn’t already been said? From the beautiful worlds to the charming music, the Final Fantasy series has always been a big hit since the first one launched on the NES. But one game stands out above all the others in my book, and that game is none other than Final Fantasy V. So here’s a story for you...

Back in 2006 my father had just re-enlisted into the military and we had moved from the humid state of Florida to the dry deserts of Texas. My family was stationed in Ft. Bliss, El Paso where we stayed for the usual 2 years. My father made a few good friends at his work but one stood out above all others. There was a man that I’ll Mr. Mark for now. Mr. Mark and my father were in the same unit and he was at a lot of our family gatherings. BBQ’s, Birthday’s the birth of one of my brothers, this man was there through it all. Unfortunately, my father and Mr. Mark had to deploy to Afghanistan. Needless to say I was not a happy person. I had seen other children lose a father or a mother and I didn’t want to be the next one to lose a parent. My father was trying to calm me down when Mr. Mark came over to me. He knelled down and gave me his GBA cartridge of Final Fantasy V. He said, “Michael. I have seen your eyes widen when watching me play this game. You have asked me many questions and seem to enjoy this game. I want you to watch this for me while I’m gone okay? Try it out and tell me how it was when I get back.” I took the game and nodded in agreement. While my father and Mr. Mark were gone, I played the game almost non-stop. I fell in love with the characters, the story, and the game play blew me away! Well the day came where my father was scheduled to come back. Don’t worry! he came back just fine. Later that evening I sat next to my dad and asked him when we could expect to see Mr. Mark again. My father turned to me and told me in a soft tone, “Michael....we won’t be able to see Mr. Mark again. He was killed in action just a few weeks ago.” I was devastated. How was I going to tell him about my adventures? Who was a going to enjoy a nice meal with? I miss him to this day and I’ll never forget my experience with Final Fantasy V. To this day, it is still my favorite FF game to play.

#final fantasy #memories #videogames

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zacklover24 · 7 years

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Lights of Eos Chapter five

Summary: It had been six months since the defeat of Organization XIII. And things have been quite, Sora has taken up training with his mentor Angel, as riku trains with the king. But rumors have spread of the possible return of the organization in worlds that have been thought lost to time. Yen Sid has requested that the king, riku and sora and angel go and stop the organization.

Tagging: @nykamito, @aquacura, @itshaejinju, @nemo-ne-impune-lacessit, @mandakatt, @ffxv-ocs-unite, @moonraccoon-exe, @insomniacapples, @rikusqueenofhearts, @bluechocobo

Pairings: Ignis and OC, Riku and Sora( down the road), Gladio/Noctis/Prompto

Warnings: None

Rating: Teen

Angel sat on the old and cold brick wall, she found a spot on the castle wall to watch the day go by, she was trying to ignore the itch of the bandages or the subtle ache of pain. She had passed her test with flying colors. She saved the world of Baron and saved Queen Rosa from death but why did she feel empty? She was a keyblade master one of three and yet it didn't feel right. Why did she have this ache in her heart, that wasn’t going away.

“There you are Miss. Angel.” Angel looked to her right, the only side of her that she could see now. Which was funny in a sad way.

“Queen Rosa.” Angel says getting up to bow to the queen.

“No, need I wanted to see how you were doing and to see how your eye was healing.” The queen says approaching and gently cuping the young master face. The left half of angel face hidden behind bandages. “Are you any pain?”

Angel gave the queen a half shrug, “I am find madam, the pain medication your doctor gave me are helping” If only a little, there was a dull ache where her eye use to be.

“But how are you feeling?” Rosa asks smiling.

“I think I’m okay physically. Mentally this feels like a hollow win for me. I passed my test and gained the status I've been dreaming of but it feels….”

“Empty?” Queen Rosa finished, “You lost your eye and almost your life to save me. You have earned your title.”

“It doesn't feel it.” Angel confesses gently removing the queen hand from her face. And going back to enjoying the landscape.

“You don't have a family do you?”

****************************************************************************

Angel woke to hot breath against her neck and pair of arms around her waist. It seemed that sora was spooning angel from behind again, thinking that she was riku. Hell the kid was sleep talking and calling her riku.

“Right well.” As angel wiggled free of his grasp and grabbed her sunglasses. That was one way to start the morning. Another way to be greeted by the cold chill that hung in the air.

“Good morning angel.” Ignis greets as Angel left her tent. It would seem that speckled man was up and already cooking. He was standing in front of large pot, there was a steady column of steam rising from it. And by the pot was a silver coffee cup.

“Morning ignis.” Angel greets heading over to the fire pit and starting a small fire. With the fire alive in the pit she parked herself in the seat that Gladio was sitting in the night before.

“Impressive can everyone where your from do that?” He inquiries.

“Yes and no. Sora and myself, Merlin, leon, cloud, yuffie, tifa and Aerith can. But cid and a few others can't. So what's cookin good lookin?”

“Again? But if you must know its porridge.”

Angel licked her lips the last time she had porridge it was made by Mrs Potts, “Yum I'll take mine with honey brown sugar a small dash of cinnamon.” As she cracked her knuckles.

“You like things sweet?” Ignis asks getting her a bowl.

“Makes life easier.” As Ignis handed her the bowl, “Why thank you good sir.”

“Your welcome, how does sora like his porridge?”

“Brown sugar and apples.” She tells him digging in while Mrs. Potts porridge was sweet, Ignis was porridge was also sweet and it was very tasty, “Oh is there any more coffee?”

“Thank you and how rude of me, would you like a cup?”

“Yes, milk and sugar if we have any of either.” The porridge was so good, and it was warm.

“Here you are my dear.” As he handed her a cup of coffee and sitting down in the chair next to her. “The weapon you and sora used yesterday what was it?”

“It’s a keyblade, a weapon that well… it’s a mystery.” Angel didn’t know much about the keyblade herself. It was one of those mysteries. “It’s one of the mysteries of the universe. It has the power to protect and that is what I use it for. It’s my wish to keep everyone I hold dear to my heart safe. I don’t want anyone I love to get hurt.”

“That is very touching of you.”

“Thank you.” The two sat in silence and finished eating. Sora, Gladio, Prompto, and Noctis woke up an hour later and they were off to hunt. They took out the dualhorn rather fast, collected the reward and were on there way to Galdin Quay.

“So from there your going to catch boat to Altissia and then your going to marry a woman you haven’t seen in ten years?” Sora asks after they dropped off Cindy package.

“Yes, that is the plan.” Ignis informs him, watching Angel who was talking to young lady selling potions and the like. “Sora how long have you know sir?”

“About six months or so.” Sora tells him with a half shrug, “She’s really, really, really nice once you get to know her.” He beams.

“Thank you.” Angel smiled and paid the young lady, and the group was off to Galdin. As they got closer, Sora jaw dropped, Galdin was beach resort!? Why didn’t anyone tell him?

“Wow this Galdin?” Sora asks jaw dropping once Ignis has parked the car he hopped out of the car, he missed the smell of the sea air, he missed the sounds of the waves lapping against the sand and he missed his island.

“And the other in the distance is Altissia.” Gladio points out to the young man, Sora eyes went wide.

“Can we do some fishing? Or try out some of the food here? Please, please?” He begs looking at Angel and the others.

“I don’t think we’ll have time kiddo.” Prompto tells him, “But hey maybe when we get to Altissia we can go for a boat ride?”

If it was possible sora eyes got bigger, “Really?”

“Really, really.” Angel tells him, “Now let’s go on the boat.” Sora nodded yes, and sprint ahead of the group with Prompto and Noctis not to far behind.

“How much sugar did you give him?” Angel asks looking at him.

“Not as much as I had thought.” Ignis mutters.

“Come on, before they get into trouble.” Gladio mutters following after the younger members of the group. Gladio caught up the young keyblade wielder, the shooter and the prince right as a strange man approached them, he had fire red hair and was dressed a hobo, werid. Angel grabbed Sora and put him behind her.

“I’m afraid your out of luck.” The man tells them,

“Are we?” Noctis asks watching as Ignis and Gladio slowly started to close ranks around him.

“The boats bring you here…” The man tells them, turning his back to look at the resort,

“What about them?” Prompto asks cutting the man off, the gave them a creepy smile as he spoke once more,

“They’ll not take you forth.” As he started to run a hand through his red hair.

“What’s your story.” Gladio asks.

“I’m an impatient traveler, ready to turn ship,” The man then started to walk towards them and the group broke apart Angel keeping sora close, while Ignis did the same for Noctis and Prompto, “The ceasefire is getting us nowhere.” The man spun on his heel and took something out of his jacket pocket and flipped towards Noctis, but gladio caught it,

“What’s this some sort of souvenir?” Gladio asks, Prompto came over and saw it some sort of coin.

“Consider it your allowance.” The man says doing some hand gesture that Angel hadn’t seen before.

“Yea and who is allowing us?” Gladio asks taking charge.

“A man of no consequence.” As he did a small bow before leaving.

“Yea right.” Nocris scoffs. Angel looked at sora then back at the man,

“Sora stay close for now.” Angel warns.

“Yea good idea, hey didn’t he say that the boats weren’t working?” Sora asks looking at the boat.

“Yea I think he did.” Prompto says.

“We should go check to make sure.” Ignis suggests.

“Good idea.” Angel agrees.

End of line

#FFXV #Angel Leonis #FFXV OC #final fantasy xv fan fic #final fantasy xv #Sora #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #Noctis/Prompto/Gladio #Ignis Scientia and OC #Sora and Riku #Crossover #Lights of Eos #kingdom hearts #Chancellor Ardyn Izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #rosa joanna farrell

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utanotranslations · 4 years

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Blog Post Translation: January 11th, 2021: 741* Coming of Age Day!!

Enjoy, and please don’t repost without credit!

Yaa This is Satoyoshi Utano

Thank you very much for the comments and likes yesterday as well! I read all of them <3

Today, we did "Hello! Project 2021 Winter ~STEP BY STEP~" In Ishikawa Prefecture!!

Today was a kind of rare compbination of unit 4 x Tsubaki Factory~ **

As soon I got arrived this morning, I was surprised to see that there was a lot of snow on the ground Everyone, thank you very much for coming during that! T_T <3

Today is Coming of Age Day!

Speaking of, Today, out of the members who were performing, there were three members who are new adults......

I was with Tsubaki Factory in the dressing room, And......!

All of the Tsubaki Factory members celebrated for Asakura-san, Ono-san and myself...... T_T T_T T_T T_T *****

I was also really, really happy that Sasaki-san and everyone in BEYOOOOONDS also celebrated :') <3

I didn't think that people would celebrate for me...... T_T

Thank you very much <3 :) <3 :) <3 :') :')

It was a truly wonderful Coming of Age day *

And!

Speaking of Coming of Age Day, I posted photos of the furisode that I wore previously on Twitter and Instagram

And! On the Hello! Project TikTok, I uploaded a video of myself dancing to "Itooshikute Gomen Ne" in my furiode~! It was my first time dancing in a fursode so it might be a little awkward...... LOLOL

I posted different photos on each, so please check them out, okay

Here's one more for the blog!!

My mom's furisode!!!

My sister also wore it, so I was excited to wear it too <3 :) <3 :) <3

My hair and makeup, A high ponytail and stick straight bangs!!

I used red and brown, Normally, I am all about drooping eyes but this time, I'll make the most of the original atmosphere of my eyes.... I thought, I tried to do my eye makeup with the feeling that it's a natural horizontal extension

I don't really like my original thin eyes but, This time, I matched it to the atmosphere, and my thin eyes might not be so bad..... I thought that a little bit Lolol But, I like drooping eyes!! Lol

And!! My hair ornament Was made with the help of my family!!!

I bought the flowers, ribbon and tassel Attached it to a U-pin, Sewed the ribbon in the shape And used gold nail polish in the middle of the flower......!

I've always thought that I wanted to make furisode hair ornaments by hand, And I'm happy that I was able to make it how I wanted it <3 :) <3

This year's Hello! Prohect new adults are Morning Musume '21's Makino Maria-san Yokoyama Reina-san Tsubaki Factory's Asakura Kiki-san Ono Mizuho-san BEYOOOOONDS' Shimakura Rika-chan Kobayashi Honoka-chan Satoyoshi Utano The 7 of us!!

Everyone, congratulations <3 * (Me too, congrats~)

I want to Have the room to be a wonderful woman And be An adut! Who loves cute things!!! <3 <3 <3

And! Everyone in the country who is a new adult!!!

Congratulations!

Since the coming of age ceremony was postponed or cancelld, and there was no chance to meet up with friends, I think that these once in a lifetime memories will be left with a feeling of loneliness When I think about everyone who is a new afult, I also feel sad......

I think that I would be happy if our songs and activities would warm all of your hearts, And I pray that someday, there will be some way that all of the new adults this year can have the opporunity to enjoy "Coming of Age Day" *

Anyway, congratulations from the bottom of my heart to everyone who became a new adult today!! I hope your future is full of lots of smiles and happiness

An online talk event will be held for our second single!

Please check the home page for information!

And, and! A individual talk event will be held in Nagoya on January 29th to celebrate the release of my first photobook "Utano Biyori"~!

I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone in the Tokai region <3

HonoRika's furisode were super cute, huh~ <3 :) <3

Well then! I'll do my best tomorrow, too! Okay! <3

See ya!

#satoyoshi utano #BEYOOOOONDS #hello project #blog post translation #january 2021

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goddessofphilosophy · 4 years

Photo

As much as Hyacinth loved to follow through on the Women Empowerment projects of the United Nations discussed during the General Assembly, there is no way in hell she would want to miss the Dolce & Gabbana Fashion Show for the Milan Fashion Week. Twice every year, she'd reserve frontrow seats and get an upclose look at the items that will eventually grace her wardrobe upgrades for the season. She decided it would be best for Jane, her new secretary, to stay in Manhattan just in case there would be papers that needed to be signed. It's an excuse since she reasoned the trip would be a family affair. She and Annicka would eventually meet Amberleighn, Noelle, and their mother in Milan. They landed at the airport a few hours just before the women's fashion show. Oh how she missed Milan's exquisite atmosphere. "Have you seen them yet?" Annicka was getting disappointed that Amberleighn wouldn't pick up her phone. Hyacinth was looking around instead, "Oh there they are! Andiamo!" They both made their way among the crowd to join Amberleighn, Noelle, Druella & Astoria at the entrance of a nearby café. "Scusi, per favore. Grazie," she was almost mumbling. The airport was jampacked with tourists, photographers, media personalities, designers, graphics artists, and eager fashion bloggers for the upcoming event. However, a man in gray suit blocked their way and extended his hand unexpectedly. He was beaming, it would be impolite not to return the gesture of shaking his hand. "Hyacinth," he breathed. "You're even more beautiful than I remember." "Ciao, nice to see you around. We haven't seen each other for a long time." It was a lie. Why is she lying? She didn't expect him to follow her in Milan. He felt why she needed to lie and he understood. The awkwardness was unbearable that they have an audience. "Do you remember my sister Annicka?" His eyes darted to Annicka, finally. Hyacinth doesn't quite like the uneasiness she felt whenever he stares at her. "Sí, I do," he smiled at Annicka. "If you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with your sister, per favore?" Annicka looked at Hyacinth as if to ask if she'd be fine if she leaves them alone. Hyacinth nodded. "Alright," she replied and went to the café. His attention went back to Hyacinth and he led her towards a corner where there were less people, away from her family's sight. "We haven't seen each other for a long time? Did you have to miss me that much?" he smirked and laughed lightly. "Suit yourself," she rolled her eyes. He loved that about her. "Would you mind to be my date at the after party tonight? I didn't forget you are obsessed with Dolce & Gabbana," he smiled crookedly. "Just like old times." "You don't have to use that card on me." "We both know I don't lay down a card if it wouldn't be in my advantage," he whispered and kissed her cheek with a lingering kiss. "Ci vediamo dopo, beautiful." And just like that he was gone again. He knew he can't stay much longer. He knew his limits. He knew he blew his chance once. He knew she's already married. But there had been speculations about her fragile marriage when she left New York all those years ago. And that gave him hope. This year, Dolce & Gabbana's theme embraced Tropico Italiano showcasing its signature floral prints, pasta & pizza, religious symbols, classy little black dresses and crowns which are remarkably Italian. Coconut trees lined up the runway with LED lights also present in some of the models' shoes. She especially liked the 'I love Pizza' bag. And the piano skirt absolutely captured her heart. The festivity continued during the after party when the street was closed off for the banquet. The newly opened Monte Napoleone boutique was divinely prestigious with its gold accents truly fit for royalty. Indeed, Italians do it better. Hyacinth has always been proud of her Italian descent. When the Descartes-Houghton girl squad arrived at the gathering, Hyacinth was trailing behind them. They were all used to the cameras but Annicka so Amberleighn came in first. Her supermodel status always attracted attention. Dark-haired Noelle and Annicka spiced up the family's ethereal fashion-forward style. Nobody will ever know that Druella is their mother. They all looked like sisters, even with Astoria Houghton and her German lineage. "Ciao," Anthony whispered while joining her in front of the cameras. "Where is your escort?" Hyacinth smiled at him, "Nessuno." He replied in haste, faking a frown, "Ouch, qui sono." Then he took her hand, ushering her towards their seat, "Si guarda molto meraviglioso. Mi manchi." She looked at him and hoped she heard it all wrong. "Il gatto ti ha mangiato la lingua?" he asked, provoking her. She never imagined what it would be like to hear those words from him again. Does he possibly think those were the magic words? He felt her apprehension and he regretted what he said but what could he do when it was what he wanted to say to her simply because it was inevitable? Her silence spoke volumes and he understood it. He reminded himself to just enjoy the night and stop playing with their frienship that caught fire. Despite the darkest dawn, it was a night to remember. And it almost felt like it never ends when she joined her friends in the dancefloor. It was surreal that almost all of them married within their circle. Pietro married Alexandria and they got two kids, a girl and a boy. Marcello married Hannah and they were blessed with three beautiful ladies. Eduardo married Chiara and decided not to have kids. The others are happily and independently single. "Man, we never knew who broke the engagement. It all happened so fast. And then Hyacinth here got married three months later. Ti immagini?" a slightly tipsy Pietro spoke with his think Italian accent. He has always been tactless. Alexandria shook her head to say we shouldn't mind him. She was trying to soothe him by giving him a glass of water. Anthony looked at Hyacinth with tenderness, but it was meant to answer Pietro, "Ci siamo lasciati e morto un Papa se ne fa un altro. É così." "Ma dove é lui?" Clellin chimed in. "He never accompanied you during Milan Fashion Week." And all she could respond was the truth, "He's busy." She thought she heard him mumble, "Che peccato!" But Anthony was lost in thought, suddenly not paying attention at their group conversation. Among her peers, she trusted Hannah would always turn the atmosphere into something lighter, "Why don't we all hang out. It's been such a long time!" She also hated it when Anthony starts speaking in Italian. The accent confuses her. "My place. I have a villa in Tuscany," Anthony suggested, then sipped his champagne. You received an iMessage from Leah Hale. Leah: Ms. Chairperson, have you forgotten about the internship interviews? They are now late for their analysis of the first presidential debate, their supposedly first project especially those who will be assigned in the Political Science Department. Hyacinth: Can't come back until tomorrow. Leah: Where in the world are you? Can't contact you! Hyacinth: Tuscany. There's a storm. Leah: Why? The Editorial Board has released our support for Hillary Clinton, as per your request. The New York Times need more correspondents for the upcoming debates. And interns for the law firm's Journalism Department. How do you expext me to handle all these? You promised to do the interviews with the Human Resources Department! Hyacinth: I'm so sorry. Jane will come to your rescue. Leah: Jane? Hyacinth: Jane Sheppard, another secretary of mine. Leah: I feel so betrayed. Hyacinth: Never knew how to disagree with the husband. Leah laughed at "Never knew how to disagree with the husband." Leah: Okay, orient her please before sending her in our precious minefield! Hyacinth: The little girl's even willing to follow me in Syria! Be ashamed of yourself! Leah: Not risking my life for you! I don't love you that much! Leah: Little girl? How young is your new minion? Hyacinth: Not more than 25, for sure. Hyacinth: I don't even know! I have to ask her! Leah: You are such an awesome boss! You loved "You are such an awesome boss!" Leah: Why are you in Tuscany? Leah: What are you doing in Tuscany when you're not even divorced? Hyacinth: So funny! Leah: How are you in Tuscany alone? Hyacinth: Not alone. Leah questioned "Not alone." Leah: Thanks for all the juicy details! Hyacinth laughed at "Thanks for all the juicy details!" Leah: Spill the beans! You sent an image. Leah: OMG! Leah: He's still hot! Leah: Too bad you didn't marry the guy! Leah: Why are you with him? Leah: You almost married the guy, Cinth! Leah: Almost. Hyacinth: And I didn't. There is such a thing as platonic relationship, right? Leah: Who owns the place? Looks really good! Hyacinth: We are with some friends. Leah: I ALMOST thought you sounded defensive. Hyacinth: He bought the villa years ago. Leah: Friends who expected you guys end up together. Married friends with their partners and you are with him. Nice pairing! Leah: He bought a villa after you left him? Hyacinth: You're delusional. Leah loved "You're delusional." Leah: How is that a group picture and he's accidentally staring at you? You received an iMessage from Astoria Houghton. Astoria: The Ritz Paris is amazeballs! Just in case you changed your mind. xx Astoria sent an image. Hyacinth: Don't tempt me, temptress. Astoria loved "Don't tempt me, temptress." You received an iMessage from Noelle Xade Descartes. Noelle: You're such a party pooper! It's Paris Fashion Week! Mom always tells us that family always comes first and yet there you are with your friends. Hyacinth: We can all wait for another century and I will come to Paris without force. Noelle: You're missing out on all the fun! You sent an image. Noelle: And the country goddess award goes to you! You received an iMessage from Druella Rose Descartes. Druella: Bonjour from Paris! Il est toujours trop beau pour être vrai! Your Father would love it even more. Hyacinth Athena, family above all. Call me if you're ready to talk about it. Druella sent an image. Druella: Wish you were here! You received an iMessage from Annicka Paulette Descartes. Annicka: How did you let them drag me to Paris Fashion Week? Hyacinth: You said you didn't like hearing Italian all the time! Annicka: How is French any better? Hyacinth laughed at "How is French any better?" You received an iMessage from Leah Hale. Leah: How many tomorrows do I have to count until you're back? Don't you check your e-mails? The United Nations called twice today. Hyacinth: I'm so sorry. Let me personally handle that one. Leah: You always check your e-mails not unless you're in Syria again? But if they knew you're on a mission, why would they call here? Hyacinth: I'm not in Syria. Leah: It can't be always stormy in sunny Tuscany! Hyacinth: We're in Capri now. Marcello wanted us to meet his children. You sent an image. Leah: Wow. They all got their mother's looks! Australian beauties! Leah: Where are the other two? Those without kids. Hyacinth: Back in Venice. Leah: Did you ride the gondola with him in Venice? Hyacinth: Andréas and I did last year. Leah loved "Andréas and I did last year." Leah: Not talking about your husband, Cinth! Hyacinth: It's a no. Leah: Did you ride the gondola with him in Venice and kiss him under the Bridge of Sighs at sunset when you two were still dating? Back in the days? Hyacinth: Don't you have more important things to do, Atty. Hale? Leah: You did! You received an iMessage from Amberleighn Vernice Descartes. Amber: Get your sexy ass here! When will you ever stop letting the past haunt you, sister? Amber sent an image. Amber: Jacket envy! Amber sent an image. Amber: Wish we stayed in Paris. New Yorkers are so lame. I don't understand why Mom likes New York. Everything is better in Paris. Hyacinth: Because you work in New York. Amber: I can change that. Hyacinth: No, you stay with Mom! Amber: Why wouldn't Annicka stay with her? Hyacinth: She doesn't like New York. Amber: Do you think I like it? You laughed at "Do you think I like it?" Amber: Hey, are you back in Manhattan? Hyacinth: Not until tomorrow. Amber: Where are you? Hyacinth: Greece. You sent an image. Amber: You don't cliffdive! Hyacinth: I just did. "What did it feel like?" Leah's inquisitive side always gets the job done. Hyacinth was back in New York City to meet the new interns of the law firm. She had to set their expectations. It's a shame Jane had to do the interviews. This year is particularly important since the presidential elections only happen once every four years. They were sitting beside each other in Leah's office. It used to be Hyacinth's office too. The room was sound proof due to the confidentiality of their conversations. "Like I can conquer all my fears, even the fear of losing him one day." Leah laughed. "No, not cliffdiving. What does it felt like holding his hand while doing it?" "Normal. We're friends." "Are you having an affair with him?" "No!" Hyacinth glared at Leah. She couldn't understand how her mind works sometimes. "Are you planning to have an affair with him?" "No." "But do you want to have an affair with him?" she whispered, enunciating each word, then nudged her. Hyacinth studied her for a moment, "What's your point?" "Just in case you want to... how to get away with an affair, my friend," Leah winked at her.

#mine #andi

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anamnesis-archive · 4 years

Text

Bidding Adieu

Upon my return from London, the spread of COVID-19 was gaining de l’ampleur in France. My mom was consumed with worry as she was keeping up to date with news reports, statistics, announcements, etc. and kept asking if I was okay. There was this complete dissociation between what my mom was reading and what I was living (at least from what I could see). From Charles de Gaulle airport to the bus that took me back to Tours, people weren’t wearing masks and continued on living as they normally would, completely unfazed. At that point, France was still in a ‘stage 2’ of the ‘pre’ epidemic: there were ‘cluster’ regions of COVID cases, gatherings of more than a certain number of people were prohibited, and people were encouraged to do their own part by washing their hands frequently, staying at home if you feel ill and coughing into elbows (common sense measures).

Monday March 9th: France was still in a stage 2, but things were only escalating. President Emmanuel Macron was set to make an announcement at 8pm that Thursday, which everyone assumed would set the country into stage 3, being the final stage. The President of l’Université de Tours sent out an email addressing the situation at hand and it was upon this that my mom and I made the decision that it would be best to come home. He stated that all of their exchange departures (so Tours students going abroad) would be suspended on the basis of these three points:

1 – Comme vous le savez, les universités Italiennes sont actuellement fermées. Or, il est probable que d’autres universités fermeront dans d’autres pays. Prévoir un déplacement dans les semaines prochaines représente donc un risque car nous n’avons aucune garantie de pouvoir effectuer notre mission.

2 – Les personnes en déplacement à l’étranger peuvent également être contaminées et tomber malade sur place. Dans cette hypothèse, il faut avoir conscience qu’il ne sera pas possible d’assurer leur rapatriement si les recommandations que nous recevons se renforcent. On peut également craindre qu’une personne de notre entourage tombe malade (conjoint.e – parents etc...), alors que nous sommes à l’étranger. Dans cette hypothèse, comme dans la précédente, notre retour n’est pas assuré.

3 – Certains pays obligent désormais les Français à être placés en quarantaine à leur arrivée. D’autres encore envisagent le rapatriement des personnes originaires des pays à risque, dont la France. Là encore, les conditions de nos missions ne sont pas assurées et il n’est pas raisonnable de prendre le risque de partir. (Vendrix, 2020).

Although designated for their native students wanting to study in a foreign country, I found that the points made could inversely be interpreted by us, who were studying abroad in France. If they thought it best to have their students remain in France, it implies that the home country is the place to be during this pandemic.

Tuesday & Wednesday didn’t seem real. I went to talk to the exchange coordinator at l’Université de Tours, where he tried to differ my decision to go back home claiming that Tours was incredibly safe and untouched by coronavirus. His words offered no reassurance. Nowhere is impenetrable; it’s only a matter of time before the lovely little city of Tours falls victim to COVID-19. I wasn’t afraid of catching the virus, but more of being stuck and unable to leave Tours when needed.

Thursday March 12th: All my friends congregated in my little dorm room knowing that our time together was coming to an end. We sulked, we laughed, we cried, we ate my children’s multivitamins as if they could boost our immune systems. My friend Anne- Marie had booked her flight to return home to Denmark as they were closing their borders; my friend Everley, from Texas, was frantically calling her parents not knowing what to make of Trump’s statement that “[t]he European Union failed to take the same precautions and restrict travel from China and other hotspots. As a result, a large number of new clusters in the United States were seeded by travelers from Europe” (Wilmer and Chambers, 2020), ultimately closing the USA’s borders to Europe (to non- U.S. citizens).

Remaining cooped up inside was a real morale downer, we were festering upon each other’s anxieties and media propaganda. Putting aside all these fears, Thursdays were THE night to go out in Tours and we wanted to have one last hurrah. Quite frankly, the French did not give a shit (pardon my French) about the presidential announcement from that evening which stated, “that nurseries, schools and colleges were being shut down” (Kauffmann, 2020) in the attempt to minimize large assemblies of people. The evolution into Stage 3, or actual epidemic, was never mentioned. Place Plumereau, the epicenter of Tours nightlife, was busier than ever with people out at bars, congregating over drinks and cigarettes, and embracing that joie de vivre. I stayed out until 5 am, returned quickly to my dorm to shower and left to take Everley to la gare for 6. On our way to the station, I got ticketed by public transport enforcement for not having a billet on the tram. I was in this trance, where nothing seemed real, so I embraced this delinquent action (which in a normal setting, I would have been in a major panic). Seeing Everley off, we ran after the train, like something from a movie. That night, I had never felt more alive.

Amidst all this, my dad and two of my brothers were set to arrive for a partial family trip to visit me that Thursday. It quickly evolved from a two week vacation into a ‘rescue mission’ from my dad, who came for the weekend to help me pack up my dorm and get to the airport. He was absolutely stupefied by the carefree attitude that the French embraced towards this situation. I really questioned my decision to come home based on this lacklustre demeanour that surrounded me. I left Tours Saturday morning for Charles de Gaulle airport. That night, Emmanuel Macron decreed a lockdown of all non-essential businesses: bars, stores, etc. would be closed until further notice. Some of my friends decided to stay in France and remain there to this day. They are basically confined to their dorm rooms as almost war time measures have been implemented. They are required to stay at home and avoid contact with others. If they decide to go out, they must fill une attestation de déplacement dérogatoire (I’ve included a screenshot of what it looks like) that justifies the excursion outdoors. If they are stopped by officials without the paperwork filled out, they will get fined. Morale is low for them.

All in all, I really valued my time abroad. I was instructed in new ways to approach, critique and view art; I made great friends; my wanderlust only expanded, and I was able to do/see some pretty cool things despite my time in Europe being cut short. It is rather bittersweet to be back in Windsor, but I am glad to be home and with my family during these troubling times.

Through this all, I couldn’t help but think of Albert Camus’ La peste and the medieval plague doctor outfits. Camus is an author who believed life had no meaning, and thus contemplated life as absurd. There are definitely levels of absurdity in the situation we are currently living. Laura Maguire uses Camus’ philosophical approach to the absurd when making this example:

Think of our relations to other people—our family, our friends, our communities. We love and care for others in this cruel world, and perhaps that’s why we continue to live. That’s what gives existence meaning. The problem here is that everyone we know and love will die some day, and some of them will suffer tremendously before that happens. How is that anything but absurd? (2015)

Whether it be Camus’ bubonic plague, or the coronavirus, people that are cared for and loved are dying, despite being cared for and loved. To further the present absurdity (less philosophically, more of a critique on society): people’s inability to abide by the simple rule of staying at home/minimize social interactions. I understand that it can be difficult, but as long as people continue to go against what is asked and continue interacting with others (and possibly spreading the virus), the longer the need for confinement will be required. It is counterproductive. Furthermore, the fact that the world needed a global pandemic to see pollution levels alleviating is ABSURD. We can see through the reduction of human travel and industry an improvement in air and water quality around the world. But the realization that once travel bans and ‘normal’ life resumes, all hopes of environmental changes will be cast aside to make up for lost time in terms of production, etc. TIME issued an article on this subject where they stated that:

environmental science and policy experts warn not to call this a silver lining; any sustainable reduction in emissions and pollution will need to happen in a way that doesn’t totally splinter society. And, moreover, they expect that pollution levels will return when the coronavirus ebbs—and in some cases may come back with a vengeance. (Worland, 2020)

I’m also seeing a lot of memes on Twitter, where a part of a Los Angeles Times article, titled “Bubonic plague in Europe changed art history. Why coronavirus could do the same”, is used and some random (+ rather bizarre) piece of contemporary art is juxtaposed with it. Maybe meant to show the devolution or the degradation of the state of art post mass pandemic or to showcase the ‘creativity’ brought about by ample time on our hands, I think they’re funny. On a more serious note, it does bring about the question of how art, and its whole market will be changed due to this historical event. I personally am concerned in terms of finding a job in the future. What if situations like this arise more often? Will careers in the art industry be obsolete? Yoon Ahn, @yoon_ambush on Instagram, posted a snapshot of a 1998 Japanese magazine which featured a quote by Martin Margiela. He was asked in an interview what could designers offer in a time of war, and Margiela answered with “[t]he easy answer would be to keep them dreaming. Creation is the oxygen of life. We would probably want to help the reconstruction, by building the dreams and hope, the will to come back to a ‘normal’ life” (2020). I found some solace in the quote.

Works Cited @psybermonkey. “Bubonic plague in Europe changed art history. Why coronavirus

could do the same” Twitter, 4 April 2020, 8:24 a.m., https://twitter.com/psyber

monkey/status/1246413353238528001 Kauffmann, Sylvie. "Opinion | A French Call to Arms Against the Virus". Nytimes.Com,

2020, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/19/opinion/france-coronavirus-macron.html Maguire, Laura. "Camus And Absurdity". Philosophy Talk, 2015, https://www.philosophy

talk.org/blog/camus-and-absurdity.

Vendrix, Phillipe. “[etu] Message Président du 09/03/2020 : Coronavirus.” Received by Inès Mastellotto-Lesny, 9 Mar. 2020.

Wilner, Michael, and Francesca Chambers. "Trump Shuts U.S. Borders to Most of Europe, Bans Travel to Stop Coronavirus Spread". IMPACT 2020, 2020,

https://www.mcclatchydc.com/news/nation-world/national/article241115986.html.

Worland, Justin. “Coronavirus Drives Pollution Dip but it Won't Last.” Time, Time, 1 Apr. 2020, time.com/5812741/air-pollution-coronavirus/.

yoon_ambush. “Q&A with #MartinMargiela, 1998 from unknown Japanese magazine 🖤 This made my day”. Instagram, 5 April 2020, https://www.instagram.com/p/B-

mMZuuJJ7_/

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