#for reference i played this round like 9 months ago so it's been so long that i barely remember
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
it's been a minute since the last signal hill update! if you're curious about the hood i recommend checking out the hood directory.
when editing the rest of round 3 i realized just how many babies were born or aged into toddlers, and how that's pretty much the only content i have for the rest of the round. so i decided to just compile them all so we can speed through.
here are some of the new babies of generation 2 - alex dunn (mikey & josie's son), adam fletcher (daniel's son), johnny armstrong (alien baby born to carter & tina), anya lee (born last round to bianca & nisha), and the larson kiddos, mars and his new baby sister kira (aj & markus' kids)
NOW we should be back on track, lmao. more screenshots from this round below the cut just so they exist somewhere, but i'm really ready to get to round 4.
dunn household, round 3 — josie and mikey shacked up last round, and now they have baby alex, who was a happy little accident.
fletcher household, round 3 — i spent the entire round balancing around baby adam. arhan was at work 90% of the time, so daniel took on a lot of the caretaking duties.
lee household, round 3 — over at the lee household, we just have seth and anya being cute babies. i think seth aged up on the final day of the round but you'll see him in round 4!
armstrong household, round 3 — i really took zero screenshots of the armstrongs this round lol. carter got abducted again, almost immediately after johnny was born. this will be baby #3, for those keeping track.
larson household, round 3 — aj and markus moved into a new house after mars was born, and found out aj was pregnant again shortly after moving in. the new house is a bit empty for now, but with mars aging up to a toddler, and baby kira arriving, it'll feel cramped soon enough.
and we're off to round 4! :)
#this saves me so much headache lmaooo#for reference i played this round like 9 months ago so it's been so long that i barely remember#simblr#ts2#the sims 2#sims 2#gameplay#hood: signal hill#signal hill 1.3#signal hill: dunn#signal hill: fletcher#signal hill: armstrong#signal hill: lee#signal hill: larson#signal hill: alex dunn#signal hill: adam fletcher#signal hill: johnny armstrong#signal hill: anya lee#signal hill: mars larson#signal hill: kira larson#GOD. OK. SO MANY TAGS.
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
CARLOS SPEAKS HIS MIND
Montmeló 06 May 2021
For the Gran Premio Aramco de España di Formula 1, Scuderia Ferrari Mission Winnow’s Spanish driver, Carlos Sainz, granted a long interview to the official programme, in which he talked about himself, as a person and as a racing driver. Here is what he had to say.
We hear you are a burger connoisseur… what makes a great burger? Where was the best you ever had?
I LOVE BURGERS! I guess a great burger is defined by the patty and the bun. The extra ingredients play their part too…but without a juicy patty and a perfect bun you will never get top marks! I try to have a burger in every city we visit. Melbourne definitely has one of the best I´ve tried.
What’s the attraction of golf? We hear you play off a 9 handicap, so do you think you could play professionally if you put your mind to it? Of course, we presume you are better than your fellow drivers on the golf course…
Golf is the perfect way to clear your head from all other things and just enjoy three or four hours outdoors with friends or family. A round of golf requires full focus and it can get super competitive. You play against others but also against your own handicap. I like that. However, to play at a professional level I would have to give up racing, and I don´t see that happening for a while! I like to see other drivers picking up golf. If they practice enough, I´m sure they will lower their handicap quickly.
Where did the interest in boxing come from? What weight would you make if you fought professionally? Who’s you hero boxer?
My performance coach used to work with a professional boxer and he learned quite a lot back in the day. Some years ago, we decided to introduce it in my training routines and I really enjoy it. It is a sport that requires strength and pushes your cardio to the limit. It is also very technical, so the more you boxe the more you want to improve. I guess I would be middleweight or super middleweight, depending on the diet…and the burgers! Nowadays I follow a lot Canelo Alvarez and Ryan Garcia.
You’re known for having a pretty intense work ethic. Did that come from your dad? What did he teach you about preparation and pressure?
My dad has been a great support for me throughout my career and I have learned many things from him. Attention to detail is something that he took to a different level back in the day and I have embraced since I was very young. I´ve also learned from him that there is no gain in dwelling too much on a bad result or celebrating too much a good one. In both situations, you have to analyse carefully what happened, learn, improve, reset and move on to the next race.
Caco, Rupert and yourself seem to have a very strong relationship on both a personal and professional level. How important is having people around you? Did working in a bubble make you closer, or did you want to kill each other?
I think having the right people around you is key for any athlete. When you have full confidence in your personal team you can focus more on the sporting side and that translates into better performance. F1 is very peculiar because we travel to an incredible number of countries in 9 months, so you get to spend a lot of time with your team. In my case, I think we have found a great balance between us. We know how to differentiate between work and leisure. We follow a very professional approach to the sport, whilst having fun and enjoying the experience along the way.
Not so long ago people introduced you as ‘the son of Carlos Sainz’, now it’s more a case of some will introduce your father as ‘Carlos Sainz’s dad’. How does that play out around the dinner table at home with your dad?
We don´t really speak about it to be honest. I guess it’s just natural. When you are a kid, you normally get introduced as “the son of” and years ago I still had a lot to prove in the motorsport world. Now things have obviously evolved, but I don´t really think my father gets introduced as being my dad! He has earned the right to be recognised as King Carlos! What I must say is that neither of us like the “Junior” tag that sometimes comes along with my name, and he has happily accepted the “Senior” tag to avoid it!
One of the risks in moving to Ferrari was going up against one of the sport’s most highly-rated drivers. You’ve done that with Max, Daniel, Lando and now Charles? Are you a masochist?
This is Formula 1. The best 20 drivers of the world are here and, inevitably, you are going to have to compete against all of them if you want to become World Champion, whether they are team mates or not. It´s just part of the game. If you are scared of going up against any other driver, you are just in the wrong sport.
You’ve made some brave moves in your career: leaving the Red Bull Programme, finding your way to McLaren, then joining Ferrari. Do you find it easy to make big career choices?
I think the key behind any career choice is a proper decision-making process. Once you have analysed all the possible scenarios, with the information at your disposal at that time, you can evaluate your options and decide what is best for you. Personally, once I take a decision, I fully commit to it. Only time will tell if that decision was good or bad.
Being a Ferrari driver is a notoriously high-pressure role and public criticism can be vicious. How is being at Ferrari different to driving for McLaren, for Renault, for Toro Rosso?
Every F1 driver has a lot of pressure, not only Ferrari drivers. The key is not how much pressure there is, but how you handle it. Ferrari is expected to be at the top because it is the most successful team in the history of the sport. We share the same goal, which is to be back winning as soon as possible, and that inevitably sets the bar very high. I turn that ambitious goal into motivation rather than pressure, and it gives me strength to keep going.
When you were a youngster, you frequently held up Sebastian Vettel as the ideal role model. Was that politeness, given your place in the Red Bull Junior Team, or was Seb the driver you really looked up to?
I´ve known Seb for many years and he has always been a reference in my career. I was doing endless hours of simulator at Red Bull Racing when he was winning World Championships and I learned a lot from his way of doing things, in and out of the track. He is definitely one of the best drivers in the history of the sport and I will always consider him a role model in many ways.
You came through the Red Bull junior programme when the competition was intense with Daniel and JEV, Dany, yourself, Antonio Felix da Costa. What was that like? Were you all in constant competition? Did you ever worry about not making it?
All Junior programmes are designed to identify the best young talents out there. Of course, it was constant competition but in a healthy way. You want to prove yourself at all costs and every time you jump in a car you want to beat the other drivers, whether it’s a race or a test or even in the simulator. Knowing how difficult it is to get a seat in F1, you always have that fear of not making it. But if you commit yourself to it, you trust in your talent and you put the work in, the fears disappear and you just focus on giving your best.
Are you superstitious? And which football team do you support?
I´m not a superstitious guy. I have several routines that I like to follow during a Grand Prix weekend, but given each country, circuit and paddock is different you sometimes have to change and adapt those routines. The doubt about the football team is offensive…REAL MADRID forever!
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Riding On
Ch 9- A Labour of Love
Summary: Fliss and Frank receive some news from Boston and Bean’s due date, arrives…and passes, with no sign of him making his bid for freedom just yet. Fliss is frustrated and poor Frank doesn’t know what to do for the best.
Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, NO UNDER 18s!).
Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher
A/N: Bean is just not playing ball, is he? As always, I hope you enjoy and I love reading all your thoughts.
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 8
Touch me, take me to that other place. Teach me, I know I’m not a hopeless case.
August 2019
The alarm had become a bit of a pointless feature in the Gallagher-Adler household, certainly over the last 2 weeks or so. As Fliss headed into the final throes of her pregnancy, her sleep patterns were all over the place. So it was no surprise to Frank that he felt her climbing out of bed at little past 5 am. Blinking sleepily he made a noise of protest because, after all, it was a Saturday, and she chuckled and leaned over to gently kiss his head.
“Stay here.” she instructed, “I’ll be fine.”
He wasn’t going to listen, he really wasn’t but his eyes dropped shut of their own accord. When they opened again it was almost 10 and he gave a start, because Fliss was due to leave in little over an hour. She was off for a Pre-Baby pamper session with Verity, Roberta and Sian, which included a manicure, pedicure, haircut, facial and fuck knows what else. To be honest, Frank had zoned out when she'd reeled off the list of treatments last night over dinner and just nodded in all the right places because he wasn't interested if all truth be told. As long as she enjoyed herself. With that in mind, he jumped up and after a quick shower he headed downstairs.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked as he wandered into the back of the house. Fliss, who was stood by the bay window seat, her eyes roving over the garden, didn’t answer.
“Lissy?” He spoke again and she jumped slightly and turned to face him as he chuckled and crossed the room to give her a kiss. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Where’s Mary?”
“She went up to the stables for a lesson with Joanne before it gets too hot.” She replied, taking the peck he offered with a tight smile. Her voice was flat, emotionless and her entire demeanour unnerved him a little as he prided himself on normally being able to read her very well but at that moment he really couldn’t get a lock on her at all.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I had a message from Boston Police…about John.”
Frank made an angry noise in his throat “What about him?”
She looked at him and Frank felt his mind whirring about what there was left that the ass hole could possibly put her through. He was inside, for a long time and he wouldn’t be getting parole this time round either but when she answered, he hadn’t been expecting her to drop the news she did.
“He’s dead.” Fliss said flatly as she looked at Frank. His face contorted into a frown as he looked at her.
“Dead?”
She nodded “Apparently got in a fight with another prisoner and it got a bit nasty. He was stabbed and…” she swallowed “Bled out. Nothing they could do.” Frank watched her carefully as she was clearly pondering something. He wasn’t sure how she was going to be feeling here. She had been married to him after all but, well, Frank was struggling to feel anything other than a sickening sense of satisfaction. If anyone deserved to die it was that fucker.
“You ok?” he asked her as he stepped towards her and pulled her into a hug.
“Yeah. I feel nothing.” she said simply, pulling back to look at him. “Absolutely nothing. I’m not happy he’s dead but I don’t care he is, either, and I’m certainly not upset about it.” She paused, biting her lip “Does that make me a bad person?”
“Bad?” Frank spluttered “Fuck, no honey, of course not” She let out a sigh as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head as she snuggled her face into his chest. “If you think feeling nothing makes you bad then me feeling what I do means I’m going straight to hell.” Frank moved and tilted her face to look at him with his finger a thumb gently holding her chin “He was a nasty, vile bastard Lissy, and he put you through so much, not to mention nearly fucking killing you less than a year ago. If anything you have a right to be throwing a damned party now.”
“Not sure you’d find many places with Congratulations Your Piece Of Shit, Wife-Beating Ex-Husband Is Dead banners or balloons.” she quipped.
“The internet is dark and full of terrors.” Frank smiled back and Fliss snorted at the Game of Thrones reference “Never underestimate it.”
She stayed silent for a moment before she pulled back and looked up at him. “You know what else I will never underestimate?” she asked, and Frank was pleased to note that familiar shine had returned to her face and eyes and he arched an eyebrow. “The power of a back massage.”
Frank smiled “Good job you’re heading off for one then isn’t it.”
“Hmmmm…” she teased, her hands tracing his chest through his t-shirt. “Thing is, unlike your back rubs this one won’t have a happy ending.” “It better fucking not do.” He shot back and she grinned.
“I should go get ready.”
“Ok, you want any breakfast before you go?” he asked and she smiled
“We ate, but there’s some pancakes in the oven for you, you just need to warm them up.”
He smiled “You’re too good to me.” “I know” she shrugged, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. With a chuckle he watched her leave, Thor trotting behind her before he let out a deep breath.
“Does that make me bad?”
The fact that she was even asking that, after everything, was enough of an answer in itself. Bad? There was nothing further from the truth and he hated that she had even entertained the idea. But, as Frank realised when he poured himself a coffee, now the bastard was dead, there was nothing else he could do to her. That particular shadow was now well gone.
And Frank didn’t give a shit whether being happy or, dare he say it, amused at the fact the fucker had died in prison, made him a bad person or not.
*****
An hour later Fliss was collected by Bill, the poor bloke was on drop off and pick up duty and Frank didn’t envy him dealing with all 4 of women. Out of courtesy, Frank had offered to run one way but Bill had waved his offer off, pointing out that he had to collect his mother later that afternoon from the aiport.
He walked out to the car with them, taking a side glance at his girl who was dressed in a pale pink and blue maxi dress, which was quite low cut and made her pregnancy boobs look fucking amazing. He smiled as he opened the door for her, Fliss sinking into the front seat- being basically 40 weeks pregnant and ready to pop awarded her certain perks such as her mother surrendering her usual position in the passenger side.
“Have a nice time.” He said, leaning over to give her a peck.
“We will.” She smiled “I left Mary some Mac and Cheese for lunch, she was asking before so I pulled it out of the freezer.”
Frank smiled “I’ll fight her for it.” “No need.” She grinned “I got you some out too.” “You spoil me”
Smiling, she reached up and cupped his cheek before he straightened up and shut the door. Once he was sure it was closed he jerked his head to Bill who was bent giving Thor a pat and signalled for the man to walk with him a little, taking a few steps away.
“Everything ok?” Bill asked.
“Yeah, well, sort of. She’s probably gonna tell you herself but just in case she doesn’t, she had a call this morning. John’s dead.” Bill blinked, before he gave a snort “Good.” “Yeah, that was kind of my reaction too.” Frank scratched at his neck. “Fliss, however, well she says she didn’t feel anything. Not happy, not sad, just complete indifference. Which, to be fair, is probably a good thing for her. I’m just a little worried she’s numb because it hasn’t sunk in yet.” Bill nodded “If she doesn’t mention it herself on the way I’ll tell V on the quiet when we get there.” “Thanks.” Frank smiled as the two of them headed back to the car. Frank grinned at Bill, as he could hear the chatter from the 4 women even through the closed doors and windows of the car.
“Good luck!” he said, nodding towards the vehicle.
Bill snorted before he frowned a little “How come you haven’t gone with Steve and the boys up to the Water Sports centre?” “Mary didn’t want to.” Frank said “I think she’s still a little, self-conscious, I suppose is the term, around the twins but she’ll come round. You know what she’s like” “Well, when they move over in January she’ll have plenty of time to get to know them properly” Bill shrugged “Right, best get this rabble to the hotel. See you later son.” Frank smiled, nodding at him. As the Range Rover pulled off up the drive he tossed a hand at the tailgate before he looked down at Thor.
“Come on boy, let’s go find Mary.” It didn’t take them long to locate her. Having finished her lesson she’d been busy grooming Monty and then helping Joanne with a few chores, or bugging the shit out of her Frank suspected but Joanne was always so patient with her. The young woman was god-send, having really stepped up over the last 2 months especially. Frank knew why Fliss liked her so much.
He practically dragged Mary home, but it really was getting ridiculously warm and he wanted her to have a few hours inside to keep cool a little. In the end, as always, they haggled reaching a compromise that she could have a little while in the pool provided she sat in the shade quietly to eat lunch. As always he was roped into the pool with her, such a hard life he led, and after 30 minutes of teaching her how to dive they both climbed out and ate before changing and heading to the airport to collect Evelyn who was coming to stay for a while.
He greeted her with the usual nod and smile as Mary gave her a hug, before he took her bag from her and they headed back to his truck, Mary gibbering on about anything and everything, his mother listening and replying when needed. The last time Mary had seen Evelyn she had gone to Boston for the weekend the previous month, something that had set Frank on edge after the last time, but as Fliss had reasoned with him, he knew that he couldn’t allow that to stop him from letting her go. This meant that Evelyn hadn’t seen their house since they had moved in back in June. Mary showed her round, Frank following, and when they got to Bean’s room he saw her stop and look round, smiling softly.
“You’ve done a good job, Frank.” She turned to look at him and he smiled back.
“You sound surprised, mother.” “Not at all.” She shook her head. “I expected nothing less.” “Makes a change.” He couldn’t help the sarcastic shot back and she narrowed her eyes.
“Are we not passed the sniping yet?” she said, tiredly.
Frank held his hands up, “Sorry.” After she’d seen the attic and Mary’s room, they headed back downstairs, Frank showing Evelyn to the Guest Apartment over the Garage which he had put the finishing touches to the week before. Fliss had stocked the fridge fully for her, meaning she had everything she could need for snacks and drinks, and whatever else she needed for a comfortable stay. He left her to unpack, telling her to come over to the main house when she was done, which she did a little over an hour later.
Frank poured her a glass of white wine, and they headed outside, taking a seat at the table as Mary was in and out of the pool freely as the sun wasn’t quite as high as it had been given that it was half four in the afternoon. Evelyn took the opportunity to ask Frank if they were ready for Bean to arrive and he smiled, shrugging.
“As ready as we can be.” He said, “We’ve had all the hospital tours and found the place Fliss prefers so…” “Where have you chosen?” Evelyn asked.
“Bayfront in St Pete’s” Frank said, pulling out his phone “They have a suite called the Baby Place.”
He flicked through his phone’s internet browser to the bookmarked page and handed it to Evelyn who put on her glasses to scan the information.
"The separate family lounge offers some of the amenities of home, such as a game table, bla bla bla and room enough to host celebrations and enjoy time with loved ones." Evelyn read from the website. "It looks like a hotel not a hospital" she mused as she handed the phone back to Frank. "Well, that's kinda the idea mother." He said, tossing his phone onto the table. "It’s actually a state-approved level 3 Regional Perinatal Intensive Care Centre." Mary appeared at the side of them, picking up her towel. "The program is one of only 12 in the state of Florida" Evelyn looked at her, cooking her head to one side as Frank gave a chuckle. "There is that too." He said as Evelyn turned to him. Mary, wrapped herself in the towel and hopped up onto his knee. "We originally discussed a birthing centre with the midwife but Fliss was too worried about what could go wrong or if she decided half way through she wanted an epidural..." he rubbed at Mary’s shoulders slightly, drying her off with the towel. “So when the midwife suggested this it seemed like a perfect compromise. She gets a private recovery area and should make her feel more at ease. She doesn't have fond memories of hospitals." He shrugged "Who does?" Evelyn looked at him, taking a sip of her wine. "Well Fliss has some particularly bad ones what with her back injury and operation, not to mention all the times he put her in one." Frank said, pausing for a second. That reminded him.
“Hey Stack, can you go grab me a can of soda?”
“Only if I can have one.” She bargained.
“Fine, but grab the no sugar. You’re already hyper enough as it is.”
Mary jumped down and headed through the door into the kitchen. As soon as she was out of earshot Frank looked at his mother.
“John’s dead.” He said bluntly “Fliss had a call this morning. He was stabbed in prison.” Evelyn looked at him for a second, before she gave a snort “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” She said sarcastically “How has Fliss taken it?”
“Well she wasn’t leaping for joy but she’s not upset, says she feels nothing.” He shrugged, looking up as Mary came back. She handed him a can as she hopped back on his knee and opened the other one herself.
Evelyn studied Frank for a second as if she was considering something before she smiled "I take it the fact she's due to drop tomorrow is the reason you're on soft drinks and not beer." Frank smiled "Just playing it safe. I mean so are you right? That's why you're here for the next 2 weeks." Evelyn shrugged "is it a problem?" "No." Frank shook his head before he grinned cheekily "Why do you think I finished the apartment above the Garage?" "Bill says in England they would call it a Granny Flat" Mary said as Frank gave a snort. Evelyn chuckled a little. "I’m aware of the terminology, thank you, on account of being from England myself." She looked at Mary "You know, people build them on their property when they want their elderly relatives to move in with them so they can look after them." she turned to Frank, smirking "So I'm honoured, Francis..." "I didn't build it just for you." He rolled his eyes "it was half done when we moved in so it made sense to finish it." He picked up his can "It’s a place for anyone to stay, although I'd be lying if I said you weren't at the forefront of my mind when we did it" Evelyn looked at him, shocked, "me?" "Yeah..." he shrugged, grinning "Fliss told me that I wasn't allowed to let you stay in a hotel or at Bill and V's now we have room so this was the best way of actually keeping you out of the house..." "Oh piss off!" Evelyn looked at him, slapping his arm as he laughed. She shook her head and before she could shoot a sarcastic response back, the sound of an engine coming up the drive hit Frank’s ears and a soft smile crept across his face. His girl was home. Thor gave a loud bark and stood up, running to the gate, Frank following him. He opened it, striding out onto the path through the lawn which led round the side of their house to the front. He smiled as Fliss pushed herself out of her dad's range rover and he instantly spotted that her hair was a lighter colour than it had been that morning and was flowing round her face and shoulders in perfectly styled waves. It was evident she had enjoyed herself, as she looked relaxed for the first time in weeks. "Well I would ask if you had a nice time." He smiled, dropping a kiss to her cheek "but I can tell from the way you're grinning that you did." "Oh it was amazing." She smiled as his hands fell to her hips. “Just what I needed. I feel relaxed and absolutely ready to push a baby out of my vagina.” Frank gave a loud laugh as he shook his head. “Well, your hair looks great." "Aww thanks Frank." Roberta slapped his shoulder as she walked past him into the yard. He rolled his eyes as Fliss laughed, tugging on Frank’s hand as she led him to the trunk of Bill's car. Bill was stood with it open as Verity and Sian were looking in each of the bags before Verity pointed at one and handed it to Fliss, Frank immediately taking it from her. He peered inside.
"Because you don't have enough toiletries" he deadpanned. Fliss shrugged. "The lavender stuff they said would help me sleep, which in case you haven't noticed I've been struggling to do over the last 2 weeks." "Hard not to notice when you wake me up at 3:30 am to tell me" "I did that once because I felt sick. And besides, you did this to me..." she pointed to her now really rather large bump "...you should also be feeling the consequences" Bill snorted as he shut the trunk of his car and looked at Frank as he glanced at the older man, almost pleading for help "Sorry lad." Bill chuckled "You got her pregnant and wanna marry her, she's your problem now." "She is here..." Fliss glared at her father. "Oh, trust me Titch, we are all well aware you are." "Rude" Fliss looked at her parents as they headed into the garden. "Steve and the boys will be here in about 5." Sian looked at Fliss having just got off the phone to him. "Said to tell you he is picking up some real meat on the way over...whatever that means Frank?" Frank laughed "he means fillet steak. I got Sirloin. A man's cut. He's being a pussy" Sian looked at Fliss who simply shook her head. "Meat is a big issue for Francis." She said sombrely, patting his chest.
“I just know what I like.” He shrugged. They made their way through to the back in time to see Verity giving Evelyn a warm hug in greeting. It made Fliss smile softly, noticing how different it all was to the stiff handshakes shared when they met for the first time little over a year ago.
Frank dropped a kiss to her cheek and headed inside to put her bag away before he came back down just as Steve and the boys turned up. Then the usual thing that happened at BBQs went ahead, the men crowding round the grill, the women bustling in and out of the kitchen setting out the sides and accompaniments, the 3 kids bombing in and out of the pool.
“You should have come with us today Mary.” Steve said to the girl as she sauntered past in her bathing suit. She paused to look at him.
“What did you do?”
“We did Kayaking, skiing, the boys went bodyboarding but I sat that one out.” Steve said.
“I didn’t know if I would like it.” She shrugged, dropping her eyes slightly. Frank watched carefully as Steve crouched down.
“Me neither, but you know what? It was fun, and the best thing is, if there’s something you don��t wanna do, you can sit it out and watch.” Frank could see from her face she was mulling this over. She looked at Steve “Are you going again Uncle Steeby?”
“Next Friday.” He nodded.
“Ok, I wanna go next time.” She announced. “Mind your manners.” Frank instructed, gently, pointing the tongues he was holding at her.
“Please.” She added. Charlie and Joel both erupted into noise, demanding that their father allow it and Steve gave a chuckle.
“You’re welcome any time Stack, as long as Frank and Fliss say its ok.” He said, standing up. “Fine by me. In fact you can keep her if you want.” Frank shrugged and Mary rolled her eyes.
“You always say stuff like that, pretend you don’t want me here but we all know the truth. You do, that’s why you’re adopting me.”
“Smart ass.” Frank narrowed his eyes at her as she stuck her tongue out and ran off. Bill and Steve chuckled as Frank shook his head, snorting.
“Thanks Steve.” He looked at the man who waved his thanks away.
“You know, she’s getting more like Fliss was every day.” Bill said “you want to watch that, Frank. She was a sassy little swine as a kid.” “Mary was already a sass bag before she met Fliss.” Frank shrugged, turning over the steaks on the grill. “Lissy just encourages it.” “Have you had any luck with her biological father?” Steve asked and Frank shook his head.
“We’re not expecting to yet. We’ve only given him notification of our intent. I suspect when Greg actually starts the process officially we’ll hear something.”
“But you don’t expect him to object?”
Frank hesitated before he shrugged “I can’t see why he would. He’s never been interested in her, at all. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a slight worry but like Fliss keeps telling me, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” “No point worrying about something you can’t control.” Bill said wisely, before he drained his beer “Right, I need another drink. Anyone else want one?”
“Yeah, I’ll come with you” Steve said “Frank?”
“I’m good, thanks.” “You can have one or two, surely?” Steve looked at him.
“Leave him alone.” Bill said, shoving his son on the shoulder, “That’s your sister and my little girl he’s looking out for…” “Fuckin’ pussy…” Steve snorted playfully and Frank threw the burger flipper at him.
Bill and Steve walked away, playfully squabbling and a few seconds later Frank felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around him from behind, Fliss pressing her lips to the space between his shoulder blades.
“Hey gorgeous.” He said, moving so she could slide under his arm. He pressed a kiss to her head “You ok?”
“Yeah, fine.” She smiled, looking up at him. “You know I really do I love your hair." He said, taking in the lighter colour even more in the now closing light of day. Over the past two years, her vivid auburn had gradually tone down and was now a light brown, laced with copper and blonde.
“Thanks.” She said, a little shyly and Frank frowned.
“Don’t you like it?”
“No, I love it…it’s just, well, actually it doesn’t matter.” “Lissy.” He looked at her sternly, and she sighed, her hands worrying one another so Frank put the cooking utensils down and took them in his. “Tell me what’s going on.” “John hated me changing it.” She shrugged “Which is why I went so bright red in the first place. Once I left him I just fancied doing something wild. I’ve always liked it a bit lighter. He insisted I kept it dark…”
“Well you can do what the fuck you want with it.” He assured her, “Unless you want to shave it all off. Then I might raise some objections.” “Sorry. She said gently and he frowned.
“What for?” “Raising him again” she shrugged “We’ve been together almost 2 years now and…” “Hey.” He said, “Don’t ever apologise. I’d rather you tell me when you’re feeling like this. You know that.”
“Of course I do, I just wonder sometimes if it’s ever gonna stop.”
“So what if it doesn’t?” Frank looked at her. She blinked and he shrugged “I’ve told you, you can always talk to me. Nothing you say is gonna make me mad.”
She smiled at him as he dropped his head, gently giving her a peck. “I know, I just get fed up sometimes. Stupid little memories and flashbacks.” “I know.” He smiled at her, kissing her head softly “But they don’t rule your life anymore, not like they used to. They’re just…”he hesitated “A minor annoyance, a bit like him really, insignificant.”
“He’s even more insignificant now.” She grinned “He’s fucking dead.”
At that Frank let out a snort “I take it you’re not longer feeling numb then.”
She shrugged “Mum said exactly the same as you before, that we should be throwing a party so…”
Frank chuckled again, pulling her into him even further as he turned back to the grill.
******
Despite it being her due date the following day there was no sign of Bean. And he didn’t make an appearance on the Monday either. On Tuesday they headed in for an assessment at the hospital, and after an examination the Midwife smiled at Fliss as she lay on the bed.
"Well, Miss Gallagher... he is in the right position." The midwife smiled. “Dropped and ready.” "He needs to hurry up." Fliss grumbled "He was due two days ago.” "Your due date is never exact. I wouldn't worry. His heartbeat is strong, he'll arrive when he is ready." "Already taking after his father." Fliss shot a side glance at Frank who raised an eyebrow. "Ok so if there's no sign of him by the morning of the 28th then just call" the woman said and Frank bit back a smirk at the look of utter disgust on Fliss' face "We'll check everything and do a sweep to get things moving." "Is there anything we can do?" Fliss practically whined "Spicy food? Pineapple? Speed bumps?" The Midwife laughed "I'm afraid they're only old wives tales. The only one with a shred of credibility is sex." Frank grinned and Fliss shot him a glare. "Semen contains prostaglandins" the midwife shot Fliss a wink "It can trigger the release of oxytocin which is a hormone that can help contractions." At that it was Fliss' turn to grin. "So all I need is your sperm and a turkey baster Sailor. Unlucky." Frank rolled his eyes and mentally cursed the midwife for her damned scientific explanation. "But in essence if your body isn’t ready to labour, nothing you do will necessarily get you going." She smiled "Sorry, you're just gonna have to ride it out." Despite the joking there was no activity in the bedroom that night other than a lot of tossing and turning as Fliss was really struggling to get comfortable enough to sleep. Frank hated seeing her so tired and fed up but when at 3:30 am he sleepily asked her if she needed anything she simply asked for a cuddle which he was more than happy to provide.
“I’m sorry.” She mumbled.
“What for?”
“I know I've been a pain these last 2 weeks.”
“You’re heavily pregnant and fed up.” He said, kissing her head
“I wouldn't be able to do this alone. I don't know how my mum did.” She said softly. Frank sighed and pulled her closer, remembering how upset she had been a week or so back when their conversation one evening with Mary had turned to Frank telling her how he had been with Diane when she was born. Hormones be damned, it had set Fliss off about how nice it was that Frank had been there and stood by Diane and how she wished her own mom had that, but instead Verity’s parents had kicked her out and left her alone and pregnant at the age of 19.
Frank knew Verity had been young when she had Fliss, although he had never expressly asked he had worked it out from the fact she was 9 years Bill's junior. He also knew there was a lot of bad blood on that side of the family and that Fliss had never met her maternal grandparents, even when they reached out to her later down the line. She had rather impolitely told them to fuck off, Verity doing the same. When asked by Mary why she hadn’t forgiven them as they were family, Fliss had shrugged and simply replied that family isn't and never would be about blood, but instead it was about those people who saw you at your absolute worst and wanted you just the same. "You've nothing to be sorry for.” Frank gently soothed her, “And you're not on your own. You never will be." "I know." She looked up at him, smiling as he gave her a soft kiss.
Things continued much the same for the rest of the week. Every so often Fliss would get a twinge, and the pair of them would get excited, thinking this was it, only for nothing to happen. On the Friday, almost a week post her due date, Frank called the midwife who arranged for them to come in the next morning. Evelyn, who was being particularly helpful, even if Frank was loath to admit it cooked for them all that night, but Fliss had struggled to eat her meal, declaring she felt a bit sick. After a profound apology to Evelyn she announced she was heading for a bath and then going to bed.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Frank asked and Fliss shook her head.
“It’s not even 7. I might be back down in an hour or so if I feel better.” “Ok, can you manage-“
“Frank!” she said, exasperatedly. “I’m fine.” “Well, you’re-“ he began and Evelyn laid her hand on his arm and shook her head gently. For the first time in, well, as long as he could remember, he obeyed an order from his mother and stopped. “Alright. Just shout me then if you need anything.”
She gave him a kiss on his cheek, her way of apology for snapping and headed off.
“You won’t need that appointment tomorrow.” Evelyn said after a pause and Frank turned to her.
“What makes you say that?” “Because I felt the same the day before I went into labour with you.” Evelyn said “Queasy, tired, just generally off.” “Well, I hope you’re right because she’s fed up.” Frank sighed “He’s fully cooked now, just being a stubborn little bastard.”
“What was it you once said to me about an apple and a tree analogy?” she looked at him, arching an eyebrow and Frank snorted.
“Yeah ok, you got me there” he conceded.
Fliss didn’t come back down after her bath. Frank popped in on her a few times and she was simply led in bed, trying to get comfortable, tearfully complaining that her back ache was particularly bad. Frank led besides her for half an hour or so, gently working at the lower part of her spine that was giving her the trouble before he realised she’d fallen asleep. He left her to it, heading back down to his mother and Mary, before a few hours later, just before 10, they all decided to go to bed as it had been a long day. Fliss didn’t wake up when he slid in besides her, nor when he dropped a kiss to her cheek. He watched her for a moment as she lay, facing him, before he too closed his eyes.
***** His baby was sat on his knee, grinning up at him. He smiled down at the boy, whose hands were wrapped tight around his index fingers. He glanced up, looking around for Fliss but there was no sign of her. Nor Mary for that matter. Hoisting Alex up onto his hip he headed out to the garden and gave a start as he saw both Fliss and Mary floating face down in the pool.
“No, no…” he began to mutter, before his muttering became frantic yells “No, this…not my girls…not…”
With a start, Frank sat bold upright in bed, breathing deeply. He glanced at the clock on the side which read 23:30, damned he hadn’t even been asleep an hour! What the fuck…
He wiped his clammy brow and lay back, feeling Fliss stir besides him.
“Frank?” she asked softly, “Are you ok?” “Bad dream.” He mumbled, turning onto his side and sliding his arm under her neck, pulling her back into his chest.
“You wanna talk about it?” she asked.
He shook his head with the air of a small child, pressing his nose into her neck, breathing in her smell and comfort. As he nuzzled at her, he felt her sigh a little and push back further into him.
“Stop it.” She muttered.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“That, on my neck…”
“Why?” He teased, his nose being replaced by his lips as he gently trailed open mouthed kisses up to her ear.
“You know why…”
“You ready to try what the midwife suggested?” he grinned, his mouth nipping at her ear and she gave a laugh.
“I'm willing to try anything. Just make it quick, I’m not bothered about coming. I only need your sperm.” “Charming…” he snorted as she gave a soft chuckle. His hand that had been resting on her bump softly moved down a little as he shifted, snaking his leg in between hers, opening her up slightly. He hooked her leg up over his hip, his fingers softly trailing up her bare thigh, shifting her sleep shorts to one side as he slipped his hand gently into her folds. She bucked harshly.
“Easy baby.” he muttered.
“Can’t help it.” she let out a soft sigh “Sensitive…” With a smile, he used his other hand to tip her head round so he could catch her mouth with his own, kissing her gently, his tongue softly sliding against hers, swallowing the moans and groans she was eliciting as he worked her with his hand. Had she been a little more with it, she might have been slightly embarrassed at how pathetically short a period of time it was before he had her clamping down around his fingers, shuddering as her release washed over her, but she was too gone to care. She’d hardly even come down from her orgasm when Frank eased her shorts down, then his boxers and with a gently push forward slid into her, the pair of them letting out hushed sighs as he began to slowly slide in and out of her. There was no haste to his movements, no rush, nothing, it was gentle, sweet, loving as he kept her held close to him, his lips lavishing affection on her shoulders and neck. Before long he heard and felt he breathing falling into that tell-tale staccato panting and she let out a low, quiet but downright filthy noise from her throat and Frank’s lips curved into a grin against her neck.
“Come on beautiful…” he mumbled, the heat in his own belly was sending spikes of fire up and down his body as he fought to keep control for a little longer “Come on.” And she did, her head tipped back and with a stuttering whisper of his name he felt her tighten around him, her legs quivering as he himself came, his hips slowing to a stop as he gently bit down on her shoulder. The pair of them lay still for a while, his hand softly curving up and around her bump, over her hip, down her thigh and back again, gently repeating the motion.
“You ok?” he asked and she nodded, humming in contentment. He pulled out of her, righted their items of clothing as Fliss hardly moved. He kept her pressed close to him as he closed his eyes, drifting off again.
He was woken 3 hours later, just before 4 am by Fliss shaking his arm.
“Frank…”
He groaned but didn’t open his eyes.
“Frank…Bean…I think he’s on his way…”
He let out a grin and turned over “My sperms worked then…” he mumbled into the pillow.
Fliss looked at him, waiting for the moment her words registered in his sleep-addled brain, which happened roughly 10 or so seconds later when he suddenly sat straight up, turning to face her.
“Penny dropped?” she asked arching an eyebrow.
He blinked “He’s…” She nodded, “Yeah…” He blinked again before he swallowed, and with a grin stuttered out a single word.
“Shit!”
**** Chapter 10
#riding on#frank adler#frank adler x ofc#frank adler x original female character#gifted#gifted fan fic#chris evans#chris evans characters
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Coffin Chapter Two
Masterpost
It had been a week since Virgil had arrived, and Logan had finally read through all of the reference material about training vampires. There had been a surprising amount of it, especially since it seemed that most of it wouldn’t be useful to him.
It seemed that the major point, in all of these books, was getting the vampire to a point at which it would be compliant and submissive. The methods of arriving at this point were varied, but many of them involved keeping the vampire under constant threat of pain. There were several points at which Logan’s stomach turned, reading through the accounts. He would have to keep the books away from Patton.
However, Virgil was already compliant, seemingly as a side effect of being kept in the coffin for a lengthy period of time. And also, Logan was not unaware, likely this was affected by Patton’s immediate kindness, and possibly also by Virgil’s age. He certainly was the youngest vampire Logan had ever come into contact with, and the only to claim to have never killed a human. He wasn’t sure if he believed the claim, but still.
But next was a short section on compliancy tests, after which it was suggested that the vampire could be taken on hunts, so long as they were in a situation to be controlled should something go wrong. It seemed that the easiest and simplest first test was the silver test. Logan was ready. He already had silver. He grabbed a bolt that was usually used in crossbows, but they didn’t have any crossbows, just a three-set of the bolts. It had been a gift to Patton several months ago.
He went downstairs, noting that Virgil was trembling again. He’d have to figure that out. Surely it wasn’t still fear. Virgil didn’t stand, but he did turn to face him when he saw that Logan was heading towards the cell.
Logan sat down outside of the cell, facing Virgil. Virgil still had that toy Patton had given him, and was fiddling with it with one hand down in his lap. His wrists still looked awful. Shouldn’t they have healed by now? He’d ask later. For now the test.
Logan held up the bolt. “This is made entirely of silver.”
Virgil nodded hesitantly.
Logan rolled it into the cell, and Virgil scrambled back away from it. Something rose up in him. Some kind of feeling. But Logan pushed it back down. It was a test. And Virgil was only a vampire.
“I want you to pick it up.” Logan said.
Virgil looked back and forth between the bolt and Logan. “I-it does hurt me,” he said, holding out his wrists as examples.
Whatever that feeling was, it lifted its head and bit him, but Logan shoved it down again. “I am aware.”
Virgil looked down at the bolt as if it was about to come alive and bite him. “Why?” His voice was very quiet, as if he were trying very hard to make sure it didn’t sound accusatory.
“I want you to do it because I told you to.” Logan said.
Virgil looked from him to the bolt and back again. He gritted his teeth and picked up the bolt. Immediately his face twisted in pain, but he didn’t drop the bolt.
“Hand it to me,” Logan instructed, putting his own hand through the bars to receive it.
Virgil dropped the bolt into his hand immediately. He let out a hissing breath, tucking his hand to his stomach. Logan had a brief glimpse of reddened, welted skin.
He had shoved the feeling down, but now it started rooting around in his stomach, gnawing painfully. “Well done, Virgil.”
Virgil nodded, still trying to blink back tears.
Logan stood to leave.
“Wait!”
Logan turned back to Virgil.
“I—Can I—? I’m hungry.”
Logan gave a slight frown. “Already? It was my impression that vampires ate less frequently.”
“Normally, if, if we’ve had a full meal.”
Logan has only wanted to do one test today. But the second test listed was a hunger test. It was perfectly logical to conduct the test now.
Still, the feeling in his stomach squirmed uncomfortably as he said, “No.”
Virgil’s face fell.
Logan moved to a cabinet and pulled out a childish game that Patton kept there. If worst came to worst, he didn’t doubt that he could overpower Virgil, especially since he still had the silver bolt in his pocket. He unlocked the cell door.
“Come. I want you to play this game with me.”
Virgil came out and sat down on the couch. Logan set up the game, easily playing while keeping his attention on observing Virgil.
Virgil’s eyes had been tinged with red, but as they played, as Logan stayed so close, the red darkened. They played several rounds in near silence.
As time passed, Virgil’s playing grew more simplistic, his physical movements became more jerky, and he stared more and more at Logan’s wrists. Clearly the bloodlust was affecting him. Honestly, Logan was surprised that Virgil hadn’t made any kind of move toward him yet.
“When this round is over,” Virgil said, his voice deep and growling on the way out. “Can I eat? Please?”
Logan looked up into Virgil’s eyes, not seeing any aggression, even though they were nearly glowing red now. He wanted to see how far he could push this.
“No.”
Virgil’s jaw clenched, and he swallowed heavily. He stood up. Logan’s hand went to the silver bolt. Virgil went into the cell, pulling the door shut.
“I can’t. I can’t stay there. I’m sorry.”
Logan wondered if this counted as passing the test. On the one hand, Virgil had just eaten a week ago, even if it was small. On the other hand, removing oneself from a situation was a legitimate form of self control.
“Very well.” Logan locked the cell door.
He went upstairs. He was practiced in letting his own blood, and sat down to do so. He was hit with a sudden question, and started writing an email right away.
Sir, I wish to have the records of the vampire which you sent us. Specifically regarding feeding schedules. Provided, of course, that this does not contradict the rules of the final test. Thank you.
Logan.
He was just cleaning up when he received a reply.
The vampire was captured on 7/13. It was kept in a containment coffin. It was fed 8 oz. of human blood on 8/17. It was shipped on 9/3. The date of its arrival is estimated to be 9/15. For further details you will have to make an official request.
Virgil is starving.
Depending on when he ate before capture, it could have been well over a month between eating then, and it was another month before he ate. Both times it was well under half of what would properly constitute a full meal. And the whole time he was trapped inside a coffin in constant contact with silver.
Logan’s stomach lurched, and he dove for the sink, leaning over it heavily.
Even for an uncontrollably violent vampire it would be cruel and inhumane.
This was why the silver burns weren’t healing. And why Virgil kept shaking. Why he’d been so terrified. Why he’d broken down like he had when he had been released. It was a wonder he hadn’t been driven mad.
Logan was going to need more blood.
•^*^••
Virgil crouched in the back corner of the cage, his hands fisted tightly in his hair, wishing that the mattress was a bed so he could crawl underneath it. Anything to hide him from the hunger that had spread to every cell of his body.
It hadn’t been that bad until he had come in. Until the scent of blood had filled the room. And then he had pulled out a game, his hands close enough to touch. Close enough to bite. Red and warm flowing just underneath. Of course, he still had the muzzle on, but it was so easily removed. Just a string behind his head.
Virgil clenched his jaw again. He couldn’t keep thinking about it. It only made it worse.
The door to the basement opened, and the smell became so much stronger all over again. Virgil clenched his hands tighter and buried his face down in his knees.
“Please… don’t… “
He heard the cell door open.
“Virgil, I brought you food.” It was Logan, but his voice was much gentler than Virgil had yet heard it.
Virgil’s head popped up immediately, almost against his will. Logan was kneeling in front of him, and in one hand was a blood bag, except this one was full.
Virgil could have cried. Scratch that, Virgil did cry. Logan untied the muzzle and handed Virgil the bag. It was drained in a few brief minutes, but they seemed like some of the most heavenly minutes Virgil had ever experienced.
The hunger finally stopped. He even felt full. He started feeling almost uncomfortably warm, and his wrists and ankles prickled where the skin was starting to heal. The fear he’d been trapped in loosened its hold, and suddenly he was very tired.
“Perhaps that was too much at once,” Logan mused.
“No! I’m-I’m awake. Thank you.”
•^*^••
Patton smelled blood. Which was odd. That meant that either Logan or Roman had let blood recently, like last half hour recently. Or maybe just hadn’t cleaned up very well. Patton wandered around the house, but didn’t see either of them. Roman was probably not home, since he had plenty of other things he did in addition to being a hunter-in-training. But Logan was almost always home, and left a note if he wasn’t.
Suddenly a horrible thought crashed into Patton’s mind. What if Virgil had hurt Logan? If Logan was downstairs, bleeding, that would explain both his absence and the blood smell. Patton patted his pocket, the gun was still there. And he knew he kept it loaded. He rushed downstairs.
Logan was inside the cell, with the door open, but seemed perfectly fine. Virgil was holding an empty blood bag, his face flushed and streaked with tears, and his eyes bright red. Patton let out a breath and let go of the gun.
Both Logan and Virgil turned to look at him.
“Greetings, Patton. How was the visit with your parents?”
“It was fine. I think it might have put me a bit on edge, though.”
“That does not seem to be an uncommon occurrence.” Logan noted.
Logan turned back to Virgil and picked up the muzzle. Virgil dipped his head forward to let Logan put it on.
Patton found that he was surprised. He shouldn’t be. Virgil had been perfectly submissive to anything any of them had asked of him. But, coming straight from his parents’ house, it was just different. It made him feel weird. And not a good weird either.
Somehow, he doubted that these feelings were what was intended by the final test. He’d been expecting a wild vampire, one that they had to keep perfectly restrained or else it would attack them. And judging by what his father had been saying earlier, that was exactly the intention. But somehow they had gotten Virgil, who seemed more human than Patton could have ever guessed a vampire could be. And now, Patton was left feeling incredibly guilty.
Maybe he could talk with Logan about it. Logan didn’t really understand feelings, but he always had an opinion, and facts to base his opinion on. So maybe Logan would help him stop feeling so guilty. He knew he shouldn’t feel guilty. As far as hunters went, they were being exceptionally kind to a captured vampire. But it still didn’t stop him from feeling just terrible when he saw Virgil’s face marked with tears.
“Hey, Logan, can I talk with you?” Patton asked.
“Of course.”
Logan came out and shut the cell door behind him.
Patton took Logan back upstairs and poured them each a coffee.
“What is it?” Logan asked. “You aren’t usually this hesitant to begin talking.”
“It’s just….” Patton sat down and took a sip of his coffee. “I’m feeling like, like we aren’t treating Virgil right.”
To his surprise, Logan nodded immediately. “I would agree with you.”
Patton frowned. This was not how he had expected the conversation to go. “What?”
“I’ve found myself… deeply disturbed at the suggested tests in the material we’ve been given. I was even more certain after administering some of the tests. I asked about Virgil’s feeding schedule before coming here, and now I am certain that there is something fundamentally wrong in the way that hunters are instructed to treat vampires.”
A part of Patton strongly agreed with Logan. But it still went against everything he’d ever been taught. He found himself advocating for the very thing he’d always disliked. “But normal vampires aren’t like Virgil.”
“That does appear to be true, however, I am now considering the possibility that we have only been exposed to vampires that are violent, and the further possibility that it was a purposeful move on the behalf of our teachers.”
“But I’ve been around loads and loads of vampires in my life, and I’ve never met one like Virgil.”
“That is only half true. You yourself have told me that you’ve seen vampires act in sometimes shockingly docile ways. In ways that inspired you to pity them. That you disagreed with those that would hurt them.”
Patton nodded slowly. He knew Logan was right. But it just… it just went against everything he’d been taught. He knew, if he made a decision, it could put him against both his mom and dad, maybe forever.
“I still believe that, human or vampire, if one is hurting and killing others, that we would be in the right to kill them. But I’m beginning to disbelieve that all vampires by nature hurt and kill.” Logan said.
Patton hung his head. “You’re right. I just… I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t think letting Virgil go will help anybody. If any of us doesn’t pass this test… well, Dad will be upset. And I don’t think Roman will agree with us.”
“I don’t know what exactly is the best course of action yet, either. But we have plenty of time to research and consider before we are forced into a decision.”
“Do we? I don’t know that I can just leave him down there knowing that I’m doing the wrong thing.”
“Help me then. Surely someone else has come to the same conclusion we have. We just have to find them.”
•^*^••
Roman made it back late at night. Logan and Patton were usually in bed at this time, so he made sure to be quiet as he opened the door and set down his bag. In the kitchen was a note on the table.
Patton and I have gone together to do research. We will likely wish to speak with you upon our return.
Logan.
There’s food in the oven, just turn it on for 30 min!
Patton :)
Roman smiled. It was odd of Patton to join Logan in his research expeditions, but not unheard of. The stranger thing was that Logan still insisted on leaving notes, when he could have just as easily, or more easily, texted.
Roman turned on the oven and sat in the living room. Maybe he’d watch some tv while he waited.
He suddenly realized that the vampire had been left alone for some time at least, and he was responsible, since he was the one home. He should probably check, while the food was cooking.
He went to the basement door and clicked the light on. As he opened the door, he heard a scramble and a quiet clang. Roman rushed downstairs to see the vampire sitting on its bed, breathing heavily.
He looked around the room, noting the cards on the table and the several open cabinets.
“What were you doing?”
“... nothing.”
“No, you don’t lie to me,” Roman said, stalking towards the cell. “You got out, didn’t you?”
The vampire cringed back into the corner. “The door was left unlocked… I didn’t go upstairs.”
Roman scowled. “And you thought that you could just come out? What were you even doing?”
The vampire held up sloppily bandaged arms. “I found some medicine, and the cards.”
“You can’t just go and take our stuff! None of it belongs to you!”
“Well… I-I don’t belong to you either!” The vampire said, raising its voice.
Roman flung the door open.
“No. No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The vampire covered its head with its arms.
“You’re a vampire. You hurt people. Your whole kind hurts, and kills, and destroys! You deserve whatever happens to you.”
The vampire curled up into a tight ball. “Humans hurt me too. They killed my sire and kidnapped me and hurt me.”
“Your sire,” Roman scoffed. “Your sire took a perfectly decent person and broke them into a vampire.”
“No, she didn’t! You don’t know anything about her!” Despite the angry tone, the words were still quiet, and muffled by the vampire’s head being tucked down into its knees.
“I know she killed and hurt people. Like all vampires do. She stole your chance at a normal life.”
“She was trying to help me!”
“How does turning you into a vampire help you? You have to leech off others to live, you want to hurt people—“
“No, I don’t!” The vampire broke in. “I’ve never wanted to hurt people.”
“Then why do you?! Why do you all always hurt people?!” Roman slammed his hand against the bars of the cell.
The vampire didn’t make any answer other than a flinch.
Roman turned away, disgusted. He made sure to lock the cell before he went upstairs.
The food was, of course, delicious, but the moment it hit his tongue everything just tasted sour.
#sanders sides#vampire au#vampires#blood#virgil sanders#roman sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#janus sanders#remus sanders#emile picani#remy sleep#my own work#coffin#violence#speciesism#vampire virgil#platonic moxiety
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
BTOOT Trent/Alex Supercut!
Listen, I know that I’ve hinted at Trent/Alex quite a lot throughout BTOOT, starting with the very first chapter. And I know there are a few people who lowkey ship them. So I decided to make a supercut of all the times that it seems like there’s something there for reasons. Perhaps sequel-related reasons.
Anyway, I don’t have a word count for this but... it’s long.
Tag squad: @hotyeehawman @freshlysqueezedmox @comeasyoudar @librathepheonix13 @heelchampbucks @gabbynorth98 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @exe-sadboi-exe (let me know if you want to be added!)
Chapter 1
“Sudden Death” was nothing more than “Never Have I Ever.” But, quite frankly, Alex was a little nervous. She knew this group of people—and she knew they had little to no shame.
“Okay, these are the rules,” she explained. “We’ll play like normal—but Chuckie and Orange will be the only ones putting down their fingers. The first one to put down all three fingers is the loser of the round.”
“Okay, just to clarify,” Scorpio asked, “so whoever still has fingers up at the end wins the whole thing?”
She nodded. “Correct.”
“I don’t like this,” Chuck said, even as he held up three fingers. “Y’all are gonna say things you know I’ve done to make me lose.”
“Never have I ever been a conspiracy theorist,” Frankie smirked. Chuck didn’t think it was funny.
“Especially you!”
“Alright, he actually has a point,” Alex begrudgingly admitted. “Let’s keep it unbiased. Kris, you start.”
Kris put a finger to her lips in thought. “Hmm… oh, I know,” she smirked. “Never have I ever slid into someone’s DMs.”
Alex let out a loud burst of laughter. “Maybe if Trent was playing,” she commented.
“Jeez, Alex, just put me on blast,” Trent returned.
She just smirked and took another sip of beer.
Chapter 5
Step one for dealing with jealous, catty bitches was to look hotter than them. Check. Step two was to completely ignore them and live your best life. Check. Two drinks in and hanging with her boys and Kris, Alex was having a great night.
Trent nudged his chin at her. “Wanna do a body shot?”
Chuck nearly choked on his beer. “Fucking what?”
Alex smirked as she leaned toward him. “Are you hitting on me, Trent?”
“I don’t know,” he coolly returned. “Do you want me to be?”
She arched a brow. “My eyes are up here, big shooter.”
He pursed his lips. “Come on. You wanted me to look.”
She bit her lip as she sat back again. “No; let’s not. I don’t want to make Chuckie jealous.”
Chuck just rolled his eyes.
“I do want another drink, though.” She scooted past James and made her way to the bar. As soon as she was out of earshot, Chuck glared at Trent.
“A body shot?”
“Relax,” Trent said. “That was a test to see if Mariposa has joined us. Obviously, she has.”
James smirked. “Nice.”
Kris sent Trent a confused look. “Mariposa?”
Chuck sighed. “‘Mariposa’ is what we call Alex’s drunk alter ego.”
Kris’s eyes widened with excited curiosity when he said that. “Okay, I have to hear this.”
“Alex turns into the biggest flirt on planet Earth when she drinks, as I just clearly demonstrated,” Trent explained. “I guarantee you she’s not coming back from the bar. She’s gonna pick some poor unsuspecting target and spend the next ten minutes fluttering her eyelashes at him.”
“Hence, ‘Mariposa,’” James added.
“When we were in Vegas for Double or Nothing, Mariposa spent all night flirting with Chuck here,” Trent said as he pointed a thumb at Chuck. “It’s what gave him the balls to confess his undying love for Alex.”
Chuck smacked the tabletop. “Okay, again: I was also very drunk that night, and I’m not in love with Alex!”
James sent him a look. “Whatever you say, bud.”
He just grumbled and drank his beer.
“Anyway, we’ve turned it into a drinking game of sorts,” Trent said. “We like to make bets on who she’ll go after.”
Kris laughed into her drink. “Okay, that’s kind of messed up, but also kind of hilarious. Can I get in on it?”
“Absolutely,” Trent said. He waved his hand out over the room. “Please, make your selection.”
“Yes! Okay.” She eagerly looked around, searching for a pick. “What’s her type?”
“She likes beards,” James answered.
Kris frowned. “Hm. Well that knocks out my initial pick, then.”
“Who?” Trent asked.
She smirked. “Maxwell.”
“HA! Oh shit, I hope it’s Maxwell,” he laughed. “That would be fucking hilarious to watch.”
“I don’t think he’d know what to do with her,” James commented.
“Come on, Alex wouldn’t flirt with Maxwell,” Chuck dismissed. “He’s like seven years younger than her.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like he stands a chance, anyway,” Kris said with a nod toward the bar. “Cash certainly doesn’t waste any time.”
They all looked over. Sure enough, Alex was leaned back against the bar with Cash Wheeler standing just in front of her; and judging by their body language, they weren’t talking about the weather.
“Damn,” Trent said. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Alex looks fucking hot tonight.”
Chuck shot him a look.
“What?” he shot. “Like you didn’t notice.”
“I mean, I don’t swing that way and I noticed,” Kris admitted.
James smirked again. “Nice.”
Back at the bar, Alex let out a laugh as she flipped her long, dark brown hair over her shoulder and playfully hit Cash on the arm. Trent looked back at the others. “What did I say?” he said as he picked up his drink. “She’s not coming back.”
Chapter 8
Alex pushed her way back into the Best Friends’ locker room. James sent her a look from where he sat on the couch, watching the monitor in the corner. “Well. You won, at least,” he commented.
She completely ignored him as she crossed the room and sat down in her cubby. She was not in the mood—and it was obvious. He gave an apologetic sigh. “I’m sure Adam didn’t mean to do what he did,” he said. “Things happen in the heat of the moment.”
She continued to ignore him as she rifled through her suitcase. All she wanted was to get changed and leave—
“Alex.”
“What?” She glared at him. He frowned.
“Are you okay?”
The genuine look of concern on his face made her stop. No, she wasn’t okay. But before she could say so, Chuck and Trent came through the door. Neither of them so much as looked at Alex as they walked into the room. She grabbed her clothes and started for the bathroom—but then Trent said something that made her stop dead in her tracks.
“Are you fucking Kenny again?”
Chuck let out a frustrated breath. “Dude, come on,” he said; but Alex spoke over him.
“What?” Her voice came out in a hiss, full of venom. She couldn’t believe the nerve of him, asking her a question like that in front of Chuck and James. It wasn’t any of his business.
But he didn’t really care. “Chuck told me what happened before we left the hotel last week. And after what just happened out there… it sure seems like there’s something you need to come clean about, Alex.”
Alex took a step closer. “That’s not any of your fucking business, Trent.”
He scoffed. “That’s a yes.”
“Dude, lay off!” Chuck unexpectedly burst. “You’re being a total dick right now!”
Trent’s eyebrows arched. “I’m being a dick? She’s the one who’s been toying with your emotions for the last year!”
“WHAT?” Alex exclaimed. She was incensed. It took all of her not to throw her clothes in Trent’s face. Chuck must have thought she might because he jumped up and stood between them.
“Alex, I don’t think that, I swear,” he said. But Trent wasn’t done.
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he spat. “You flirted with Chuck all the time while you were fucking Kenny last year because you knew he’d give you the attention you wanted but weren’t getting from Kenny. You take advantage of his feelings for you, Alex.”
“TRENT, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Chuck whirled around to glare at him. James jumped up and stood between them.
“Okay, now’s probably not the best time for this,” he implored. But Alex had heard enough.
“Fuck you, Trent,” she spat. “And get off your high horse before you break your neck. It’s not like you’ve never tried it with me despite anyone’s feelings.”
She threw her clothes forcefully across the room and started toward the exit. Chuck’s shoulders slumped. “Alex, he’s not speaking for me!” he called. But she was already halfway out the door, trying to ignore the tears stinging at the back of her eyes.
Chapter 9
“I’m not trying to convince you that Kenny’s a bad guy. He’s not,” Trent added, as if he was worried that was what she thought he was trying to do. “I just think you deserve better than what he can probably give you.”
Trent looked back down at the floor, his piece said, and Alex did the same. But then she put the bag of candy down and pulled him into a tight hug. “It means a lot that you think that,” she said. “But you know only I can decide what’s best for me, Trent.”
“I know,” he said as he squeezed her back. “But I want the best for you, too.”
They hugged a few seconds longer before Alex pulled back. “Truce?” she asked.
He smirked. “Truce. I really don’t like fighting with you. You’re vicious.”
Her mouth dropped in mock-offense. “What?”
“Come on,” he flatly returned. “You didn’t need to throw out that comment about me trying it with you.”
“Well, you did,” she returned. “At New Year’s. Remember?”
“Yeah, I know what you were referring to,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “You looked hot that night, sue me.”
She smirked. “Aw, thanks, Trenty.”
“Shut up,” he muttered; but he was smirking, too. “Now are you gonna share those, or what?” He nodded at the Sour Patch Kids. “It’s a two-pound bag.”
Alex genially rolled her eyes as she picked up the bag and ripped it open. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” she said as she offered it to him, happy to have resolved at least one of her anxieties.
Chapter 15
With every word that came out of Matt’s mouth, Alex’s heart sunk deeper and deeper into the pit of her stomach. She felt sick. If what Matt said was true, then it cast that weekend nearly two months ago in a whole new terrible light. While she’d been cuddling in front of a fire with Cash, telling him she didn’t know what she and Kenny were, asking him to share a bed with her, Kenny had been thinking only of her. She’d thought he’d just been too busy to make time for her, when in reality he’d been planning to prove to her how much he cared; how much he wanted to change for her, just like he’d said. And she hadn’t given him a chance to prove it. She’d shot his chance dead in the water. She was absolutely disgusted with herself.
Matt’s voice cut through her thoughts. “I’m sorry. But I had to tell you because I know Kenny won’t.”
Alex didn’t say anything in response. She didn’t even look at Matt before she turned on her heel and left, walking swiftly through the halls to Gorilla, in a daze. Everyone else booked for the tag match was already there when she arrived, milling around, waiting for the show to get underway. Trent spotted her the same time she did him. “There you are,” he said. “Did you get lo—”
He didn’t finish his sentence. Alex had walked right up to him, wrapped her arms around his middle, and hugged herself tight against his chest.
Everyone around turned to look. Trent went stiff, unsure what to do. “Okay, Alex,” he said. “I’m a little confused, but I’m not gonna stop it if this is what you want.”
“Trent,” she breathed. “Please. I just need a hug from my friend right now.”
He must have heard the emotion in her voice, because she felt him relax after she said that. He wrapped his arms around her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she said.
There was a thoughtful pause. “Are you good to come out there with us?”
She didn’t answer right away. “I think so,” she decided.
“What the hell is this?” Alex suddenly heard Chuck proclaim. “I know you’re not leaving me out of a Best Friends hug right now.”
She felt Trent pick up one of his arms and make a motion as if he was cutting his hand across his throat, signaling to Chuck that now wasn’t the time for jokes. There was another pause. And then Chuck asked, “Are you okay, Alex?”
No, she thought. But she said, “I just need a minute.”
Trent rested his chin on top of her head. And then she heard James say, “Who do we have to murder?”
Me, Alex thought. But before she could say anything, Best Friends’ music started up.
Trent pulled back and looked down at her. “Are you sure you’re good?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” He squeezed her shoulders and nodded toward the entrance to the babyface tunnel. “Well let’s go, then. We have some Inner Circle ass to beat.”
Chapter 16
She grabbed her phone off her bed and walked back to the mirror. She mussed her long brown hair just so and half-tucked her oversized tank top into her cutoff shorts, adjusting it so that her lacy bralette peeked out of the low-cut neck, and struck a flattering pose. She must have taken twenty photos before she finally got one she liked. It was definitely a little bit sexy; but honestly, that was what she wanted. She opened up Instagram, chose the photo from her gallery, and typed up a caption. Feeling cute, might delete later #ootd. And then she hit “post.” To everyone else, it would just look like a typical girly Instagram post. But when Kenny saw the locket around her neck, he would know.
She tossed her phone back onto the bed and went back to cleaning out her dresser. She got through the rest of the t-shirts and most of the next drawer before she couldn’t stop herself from looking anymore.
She picked up her phone and opened Instagram. The picture already had a few dozen likes, mostly from fans but a few from friends. Trent had already commented. Your pockets are longer than your shorts. She rolled her eyes.
Chapter 17
Friday evening, music streamed through the speakers in Chuck’s apartment in Philadelphia. Alex had made the near six-hour trip from Roanoke earlier that day, and she felt like Chuck, Trent, and James had been falling over themselves to make sure she was happy ever since she’d arrived. Chuck had ordered in cheesesteaks for dinner from her favorite local spot. Trent had bought her not one, but two two-pound bags of Sour Patch Kids. And James was watching her drink like a hawk, waiting to fill it back up as soon as she was done. It was kind of unnerving, especially since he was wearing his sunglasses and she couldn’t see his eyes.
Not that she needed another drink at the moment. She and Chuck were playing beer pong against Trent and James—and they were getting their asses kicked.
Alex closed one eye and poked her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, aiming for a cup in the center of the triangle on the other end of the table. She shot; and it bounced off the rim.
“Come on,” Chuck breathed. “You’re the only one of us who went to college, you should be good at this!”
“You’ve only made one!” Alex returned with a motion to James and Trent’s nearly intact triangle of cups. “That’s just one more than none!”
While they were arguing, Trent took the opportunity to sink his ping pong ball into their last remaining cup.
“GREG!” Chuck shouted.
He smirked. “Drink up, buttercup.”
“No!” Alex proclaimed. “We get to shoot until we miss.”
“Why bother?” James remarked.
“Oh, you’re dead.” Chuck said. He picked up a ping pong ball and tossed it. It landed in the cup on the right bottom corner of the triangle. He threw his arms into the air. “YES! DRINK, YOU LITTLE BITCH!”
James just smirked and took a sip of his alcohol.
Trent rubbed his hands together. “Alright, Alex. It’s all on you.”
Alex got in her shooting stance. She wasn’t sure if closing one eye was helping or hurting at this point; she’d already had a few and was starting to feel it. She aimed and fired. It started to go in a cup in the middle—but Trent used his finger to flick it back out.
Alex’s eyes widened as she let out a gasp. “Oh, you’re never gonna get to see my tits now.”
Chuck choked on his drink. Trent’s eyebrows arched. “Were you gonna show them to me?!”
She gave a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t know, maybe. I know you’re jealous that Chuck and James got to see them when they walked in on me that one time.”
“He totally is,” James said.
Trent sucked his teeth. “Man…”
Alex just smirked and took a sip of her drink.
“And on that note,” Chuck said. “It’s time for shots.” He walked over to the kitchen and pulled out four shot glasses. “What flavor does everyone want?”
That was another thing Chuck had done: he actually had made the Sour Patch Kids-infused Vodka. And from what Alex understood, it had been a pain in the ass.
“Blue raspberry,” James answered.
“I’ll try cherry,” Trent said.
Chuck filled one shot glass with blue-colored vodka and another with red-colored vodka. “Alex?” he asked. But she wasn’t paying attention.
“Where’s my phone?” she asked. She looked around the room. She thought she’d left it on the arm of the couch, but it wasn’t there. She patted her pockets, making sure she hadn’t picked it up and forgotten like a dunce; but they were empty. She started to search the cushions of the couch—but Trent walked over to her.
“Your phone? Yeah, I hid it.”
She whirled around to look at him. “What?”
He smirked. “You shouldn’t have left it just sitting out in the open when you went to the bathroom.”
“Trent,” she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Give me my phone.”
He shook his head. “No.”
She put her hands on her hips. “I’ll show them to you.”
His eyes flicked down to her chest. He seemed to consider it; but then he looked back up. “No.”
“Trent…” she whined.
“Alex…” he mimicked.
She pouted. “Why’d you hide it?”
“Because.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “One, it’ll keep you from spending all night glued to your phone waiting for whoever to text. And two, it’ll keep you from drunk texting whoever, which I’m guessing you’re about one and a half drinks away from wanting to do.”
Alex fidgeted under his gaze. He wasn’t wrong. She’d been incessantly checking her phone ever since she’d arrived, each time hoping to see a text from Cash—and each time being disappointed. They hadn’t talked since that night at the hotel, and each hour that went by without hearing from him seemed longer than the last. She knew he was hurt; she didn’t blame him for not wanting to talk to her. But she just wanted to know if he was even thinking about her. And each time she looked at her phone and didn’t see his name, it was like another papercut on her heart.
“He’s right,” Chuck said. “Forget about your phone, and anything else going on outside this apartment, just for tonight. Alright?”
He offered her a shot glass full of bright green vodka. Lime. She thought back to two nights ago, remembered how she’d missed the person she was two months ago. Tonight was a chance to be that person again, even if just for a night.
She took the shot glass from Chuck’s hand. “Cheers,” she said, and she kicked it back.
* * * * * * * * * *
Alex woke up with Trent’s arm draped over her waist atop the blanket they shared. He must have rolled over in his sleep and flung it across her. She gently grabbed his wrist and picked it up, trying to place his arm down on the air mattress in between them; but he pulled it back and snuggled with his pillow, dead asleep. She smirked to herself. She’d always been jealous of how he could sleep like a fucking rock.
Chapter 20
“Okay. You, me, darts. If I win, you show me your boobs.”
Adam watched as Alex playfully rolled her eyes at Trent’s suggestion. She was a shot of Jose and a beer-and-a-half deep and feeling it; he could tell by the lazy smile on her lips. She always got that smile when she drank.
“And if I win?” she asked.
Trent looked up, deep in thought. “If you win… I’ll pay for your next set of gear.”
“Deal,” Alex immediately accepted, and she grabbed Trent’s wrist and pulled him over to the dart boards, a satisfied grin on his face. Adam shook his head as they went.
“Y’all are weird,” he said with a drink of his nearly empty beer.
“Oh come on,” Chuck returned. “You’ve known Alex longer than us. You were probably acquainted with Mariposa years before we ever gave her a name.”
He shook his head. “No comment.”
“That’s guilty,” James quipped.
“Yeah, it is,” Chuck smirked in agreement.
Adam drained the rest of his beer to hide his grin. He almost hadn’t come out with them tonight—he was surprised they’d still wanted to at all, after what the Inner Circle had done to Orange—but he was glad he had. If he hadn’t, he’d just be sitting in his hotel room, ruminating. About how his relationships with his girlfriend and his tag team partner were falling apart at the seams, about how he wasn’t sure who his real friends were anymore. Buzzing on whiskey and with nothing better to do, he’d confronted FTR back at the arena about what they’d done to Ricky Morton last week, about how Dax had faked a leg injury the week before that—and they’d completely turned it around on him. Something about how it wasn’t personal; how they’d needed to know if they could trust him after all the nasty things Matt, Nick, and Kenny had said about them; something about how he’d always been stuck in their shadow. They weren’t wrong. And with a tag team gauntlet match next week to determine who would get a shot at Adam and Kenny’s championships at All Out, Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to give Matt and Nick yet another opportunity to eclipse him.
“You guys want another?” James asked.
“Yeah,” Chuck said while Adam nodded. “Put it on Trent’s tab.”
James pointed at him as he stood from the table. “Was already planning on it.”
He walked off, and Adam’s eyes drifted to where Alex played darts with Trent. She stood close to him, her fingers laced behind her back, and just as he was about to throw his dart, she tilted her chin up, pursed her lips, and blew into his ear. He flinched, and she let out a loud laugh as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to say something in her ear. Alex pushed him away, a flirtatious grin on her face, and Trent turned back to the board and threw his dart.
“Trent certainly seems to like Mariposa,” Adam remarked.
Chuck scoffed as he glanced over his shoulder. “Are you kidding? He loves her.” He turned back around. “It annoyed me when I had feelings for Alex, too.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“You do realize you’re about to lose, right?”
She pursed her lips at Trent. “We haven’t been scoring properly.”
“But I’ve gotten more closer to the bullseye than you.”
Alex just took another sip of her beer. Trent squared up and tossed his final dart. It stuck in the single bullseye.
He gave her a cocky smirk. “I’d say that’s a pretty definitive victory.”
“Congratulations,” she slyly returned.
He rubbed his hands together, basking in his win. “So, where do you want to do this? The bathroom? Actually, no—I can wait until we get back to the hotel. I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
Alex stepped close and put her hand on his shoulder; he reflexively put his on her hip. She frowned apologetically up at him. “Oh, Trent. Mariposa made the bet, but it’s Alex’s body.”
His head fell back. “Goddammit,” he breathed.
A wide grin broke out over her face. “Come on, I need a refill.”
Chapter 22
There was a beat of shocked silence. Alex tensed, bracing for their reaction. And then Chuck gaped, “Callie broke up with Adam and now she’s staying with Matt Jackson?”
She nodded again. “Apparently.”
More silence. And then Jim said, “That’s a clear violation of bro code.”
“No shit,” Trent added. “What an asshole.”
“Of the highest order,” Alex agreed. “After Adam did what he did, Matt came barging in here to scream at me about how I must have had something to do with it.”
Trent blinked and shook his head, his eyebrows arched high on his forehead, like he didn’t comprehend what she’d just said. “I’m sorry, what?”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Matt thinks I put Adam up to sabotaging them,” she muttered.
“What?” Chuck shot. “Why?”
“Because he’s a dick,” she returned. “He said I had ‘every reason’ to do it and that I have Adam wrapped around my finger just like I do Kenny.”
Alex stared at the floor, anxiously chewing at her lip. Of all the awful things Matt had said, that was what had hurt her the most. She didn’t give a shit what he thought about her—but if there was even a chance that Kenny or Adam felt that way, like she’d manipulated them somehow… she wouldn’t be able to bear it.
“Okay, let me get this straight,” Trent said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Matt violated bro code by shacking up with his friend’s ex-girlfriend—”
“Major violation,” Jim interjected.
“—and then when Adam retaliated, Matt barged in here and blamed you for it?”
“More or less,” Alex confirmed.
Trent stared back at her, stunned. And then he at looked Orange. “Jim, let’s go.”
He abruptly stood from his seat. Jim did the same, albeit much more lazily.
“What’re you doing?” Alex charged.
“Not letting Matt get away with being a complete fucking asshole to you,” Trent answered, and he went out the door, James right behind him. Alex jumped up and went after them.
“Trent, wait. I handled it!”
“I’m sure you did,” he returned. “And I’m gonna back you up.”
“I don’t need you to!”
“Well I’m gonna back up Adam then, how about that?”
Alex stopped, taken aback by his response. Pride swelled in her chest. Suddenly, she didn’t want to stop him anymore.
She hurried to catch up with them as they marched around the corner toward the Elite’s locker room—and she nearly froze again. Matt and Nick were approaching from the other end of the hall, and they both looked just as pissed as Trent.
“Perfect!” Trent proclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “Just who I was looking for.”
Matt’s brow lowered. “Oh yeah? For what? Come to gloat about your dirty win?”
“Yikes,” Trent winced. “Someone sounds salty.”
“What do you want, Trent?” Nick shot.
“That’s a great question, Nick!” They all came to a stop as they met in the middle of the hall, Trent across from Matt, Jim across from Nick. Trent’s eyes narrowed down at Matt. “I would like to know why the hell your brother thinks Alex had anything to do with Hangman screwing you two over when he’s the one who’s trying to screw his ‘friend’s’ ex-girlfriend.”
Matt balked. “Excuse me?” He turned dark, hostile eyes on Alex. “Is that what you told him? That I’m trying to—”
“Don’t talk to her,” Trent firmly cut him off. “I asked you the question, so you fucking talk to me.”
Alex held her breath. Matt glared at Trent. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Really? Because the situation seems pretty obvious to me.”
“Yeah? Well then put two-and-two together, Trent,” Matt spat. “You want to talk about screwing? Alex here is fucking one half of the tag team champions, and the other half wants to fuck her. Oh, and the guys who won the gauntlet? She was fucking one of them, too. Probably still is, I honestly don’t know. So yeah, I think she had a hand in screwing us over. More than a hand, pr—”
He was abruptly cut off when Trent’s fist collided hard with his jaw. He dropped like a rock to the floor.
Alex let out a gasp and jumped back. Nick started for Trent, but Jim pushed him and sent him stumbling over his brother so that he had to catch himself against the wall. Matt blinked on the floor, dazed. Trent loomed over him, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
“That was for Adam, too. And if I ever hear Alex’s name in your mouth again, I’ll hold you down so she can punt you in the dick.”
He gave him one final threatening glare, and then he turned and took Alex’s hand. “Come on.”
He pulled her back down the hall. Jim didn’t immediately follow them. Instead, he held up his hands, stuck up both his middle fingers at Matt and Nick, and then turned and walked nonchalantly away.
Alex was in a state of shock as Trent led her around the corner. “Holy shit,” she breathed.
“Are you alright?” He stopped and looked down at her hand that he still held. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m okay. Just… shocked.” She let out a breath, “At this rate everyone on the roster is gonna get punched in the face because of me.”
“No, Matt got punched in the face because of Matt,” he corrected. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I think you should’ve punted him in the dick then,” Jim added.
A grateful smile curled the corners of her lips. “Well, thank you. This time I’m not upset that someone got punched.”
Trent returned her grin and gave her hand a squeeze; but then he winced and pulled away. Alex frowned in concern.
“Is your hand alright?”
“I think so.” He flexed his fingers and looked at his knuckles. They were red and angry. “I should probably ice it, though. He’s got a hard fucking head.”
She smirked. “Well come on then, Rocky. Let’s get you some ice for that right jab.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Alex and the boys had left the arena as soon as they could. After the heartbreak of the gauntlet match and the chaos of the aftermath, they’d decided to grab some burgers, go back to the hotel, and just veg out in front of the TV for the rest of the evening. It was doing the trick; Alex felt a lot better now that she had a greasy bag full of Five Guys fries, even if she did have to share them with Trent.
“I still can’t believe I missed you drop Matt Jackson,” Chuck proclaimed as he bit into a french fry.
“Yeah, it was pretty bad-ass,” Trent casually stated as he sat next to Alex on her bed. “Alex was super turned on by it.”
Alex sputtered out a laugh. “What? I did not say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” he returned with a wink.
She pursed her lips and snatched the bag of fries from him. “You don’t get any more for that.”
“Someone sounds called out,” Jim remarked. Trent smirked. Alex glared at them both.
Chapter 23
Alex didn’t want to sit backstage any longer. She hurried to Gorilla and went through the tunnel and down the ramp. She shot Santana and Ortiz a glare as she passed them and ducked through the ropes. They smirked and talked shit, but she ignored them as she knelt next to Trent on the mat.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He didn’t look thrilled to see her. “What’re you doing out here?” he groaned.
She just pursed her lips and helped him sit up. He was obviously in pain. Chuck rolled into the ring and they both helped Trent to his feet.
“What happened?” Chuck asked.
Alex glowered at the retreating backs of Santana and Ortiz. “Santana hit Trent with that baton of his. Bryce didn’t see it.”
“Fuck,” Chuck breathed.
They all exited the ring and went back up the ramp. Trent leaned on Alex’s shoulders and she wrapped her arm around his waist for support as they walked slowly back through the tunnel. Gorilla was full of people when they returned backstage. An eight-man tag match was next, pitting SCU and Private Party against Jurassic Express and the Young Bucks; the winning teams would face each other that Saturday at All Out. Alex noticed Matt and Nick out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored them. Unfortunately, Matt and Nick didn’t give them the same courtesy.
“Sucks losing unfairly, doesn’t it?” Nick smirked.
Alex shot him a venomous glare. “Mind your business, Nick.”
Matt let out a laugh. “Oh, that’s rich.”
“Alright, seriously,” Chuck spoke up. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit and I wasn’t even there when Trent knocked your ass out.”
“He didn’t knock me out,” Matt insisted again.
Alex scoffed. “Yeah he fucking did.”
He turned his glare on her. “Why don’t you go get bent, Alex? It’s what you’re best at.”
Trent pulled away from her and walked threateningly up to Matt. Nick stepped between them, but he completely ignored him. “I thought I warned you about saying anything to her ever again.”
Matt nodded. “Yeah, you did. But you didn’t do shit about it last night, and you won’t do shit about it now.”
“Try me,” Trent challenged.
A cruel, cocky smirk curled Matt’s lips. “Alex is a sl—”
Trent lunged for him, but Nick pushed him back. Chuck ran over and grabbed Nick, spun him around and tossed him away, and with the coast clear, Trent speared Matt into a stack of equipment crates with a violent crash. The four of them starting brawling, throwing fists left and right, but the chaos was short-lived. Jurassic Express pried apart Chuck and Nick while SCU did the same for Trent and Matt. The latter pair fought tooth and nail to get back at each other.
“You want your mixed tag match?” Matt shouted as he strained against Kazarian’s grip. “You got it, next Wednesday. And I’ll make sure I knock you the fuck out.”
“You’re on,” Trent spat. “But trust me: you won’t even get the chance to try before Alex makes your girl tap.”
He shoved Scorpio off him, and he, Chuck, and Alex backed out of Gorilla, the gauntlet officially thrown.
Chapter 25
They all reset, and Shawn served the ball. Chuck easily bumped it back, but when Callie scrambled to hit it over the net, it flew straight up into the air instead. Cash rushed forward as it came back down and whacked it as hard as he could—sending it flying like a missile right at Alex. She didn’t even have time to pivot before it beaned her hard in the shoulder and careened off into the water.
“Shit!” she cursed.
“Point!” Dax loudly proclaimed.
“Really?!” Chuck shouted. “You have something smart to say about Alex spiking the ball but nothing about Cash hitting it as hard as he can right at her?”
“Come on, it wasn’t on purpose,” Cash defended. He looked at Alex through the net. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”
Alex gripped her shoulder as she stared back at him. It stung from the impact of the wet volleyball and was throbbing already. There would undoubtedly be a nice bruise there tomorrow. However, to Cash’s credit, he seemed genuinely remorseful—but then she noticed Callie roll her eyes over his shoulder. She bit down on her jaw.
“I’m fine.”
He frowned, but she turned away and looked at Trent. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Serve the ball.”
She rolled her shoulder and turned back to face the net. Trent served the ball. It went right to Peyton and she hit it back over. Orange popped it up, and just like she had before, Alex spiked the ball to the other side.
Crack!
“FUCK!”
Except that time, it hit Callie right in the face.
Blood poured from her nose and dripped into the pool. Peyton told her to pinch her nostrils and tilt her head forward. Cash rushed to her side through the water. He glared daggers at Alex.
“What the fuck, Alex?”
She opened her mouth to say it was an accident, to assure them it was, but no sound came out. Her vocal cords were frozen.
“It was an accident,” Trent returned.
“Didn’t look like it from here,” Dax chirped.
“Oh, shut up,” Chuck groaned.
“It was an accident!” Alex finally blurted. She looked at Callie’s retreating back as Cash helped her toward the pool steps. “Callie, I’m sorry.”
But she didn’t acknowledge her at all, and then Cash whisked her away, holding a towel to her nose. Thankfully, Dax went with them.
“Well, I guess that’s the end of that,” Shawn awkwardly announced. Peyton shot him a chastising look, and then they exited the pool and left, too.
Alex stared in silence into the water. Her nose burned. She hadn’t meant for that to happen. She hadn’t meant for Callie to get hurt. She didn’t want it to be like this between them anymore. She wanted her friend back.
“Hey,” Trent waded over to her. She felt him put his hand on the small of her back underneath the water. “It was an accident,” he gently repeated. “She’ll be alright.”
Alex’s nose burned even more when he said that. “I’m gonna go see if Kenny’s ready to leave,” she said, and she didn’t wait for a response before she climbed out of the pool, grabbed her things, and left.
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bellamy Blake - “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Part 2
Bellamy Blake x reader
From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy
GIF: heartbellamy
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Word Count: 1,875
Published on: Friday, November 20, 2020
TW: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: S3
A/N: Much requested by my sister, who claimed that the ending of the first part was a cliffhanger. Enjoy. Also, I understand that Miller wasn't with Pike, but I forgot he wasn't when I wrote this, so for the sake of the story just pretend he is apjppsoeods
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
♡Masterlist♡
Part 1
Bellamy Blake
"Isn't this what you wanted?" Part 2
As if things couldn't get any worse, the moment you got to Harpers door, you remembered that she was out on a supply run with Octavia, leaving her door locked, and you stranded in the hallway with tears in your eyes.
"Damn." You cursed as you racked your brain for the key code.
"Need some help?" A familiar voice sounded behind you.
Monty stood in a guards uniform, the bulletproof material looking strange on him. Never in a million years would you have envisioned him in the guard. Let alone the bad part of the guard.
Anger swelled in you, and although you knew that Monty didn't directly take a role in Lincoln's murder, you still resented him for playing the part and sticking at his Moms side when he knew it was wrong.
"You here to kill me too?" You set down your bag, and stared him straight in the eyes.
Although he was at least a foot taller than you, he still backed up, and pity glistened in his eyes.
"(Y/N), I didn't mean to - ."
"You could have talked some sense into them, Monty!"
"I didn't have a choice!" Monty hissed.
You shook your head, picking up your bag with your few belongings.
"There's always a choice." You whispered as you made your way away from him before you did something you would regret.
Maybe with Kane or Abby as Chancellor, the rules would be different.
Scratch that.
They would definitely be different.
Curfew was 9 pm for every citizen of the Ark, excluding the guard, of course. If you were caught out after curfew, no matter the reason, you were shocklashed if you were over the age of 16.
This new rule, including the shorted curfew, and the extensive punishment were mandated by Pike.
Your eyes scoured the walls of the corridors for a clock, but they were empty. You could tell that curfew was approaching, because little to no people were in the halls, and those who were, were hurrying back to their assigned quarters.
Even if you turned back now, there was no guarantee that Harper was back yet, and there was no way in hell you were going back to your room with Bellamy.
In fact, maybe you would stay out in the halls on purpose. Maybe this would result in you getting shocklashed, and Bellamy would finally open his eyes.
Maybe Bellamy would even be the one to do it to you.
"Weren't you arrested in the first place for being out past curfew?"
Jasper startled you as he spoke, leaning against the frame of his door, bottle of moonshine in hand.
You eyed him.
"Weren't you arrested for stealing booze?" You sneered.
He only laughed, his words becoming more slurred as he downed another gulp of his drink.
"Weed, actually. And if it wasn't for... Monty. Neither of us would have been sent down here in the first place."
It was strange what all could change in the span of a few months.
Jasper and Monty used to be inseparable. They were practically brothers. No one could tear them apart.
But now, Jasper spoke Montys name with venom.
"Aren't you due back at the castle with the King?" Jasper waved his drink at the direction, referring to Bellamy.
"I-." Your words were cut short as Nathan Miller rounded the corner. His eyes widened as soon as he caught sight of the both of you.
"Are you trying to get yourselves killed?" He seethed, his eyes darting to the left and the right, breathing a silent sigh of relief as he came to the conclusion that he was the only guard in sight.
Jasper lowered his drink, scrunched up his nose, and appeared to be thinking hard.
"Is this a rhetorical question?" He mused.
Miller turned red in the face.
"I'm not joking around, Jasper. You're lucky it was me who found you, and not Hannah." Miller hissed, clearly not in a joking mood.
Jasper only rolled his eyes.
"Even if you do kill me, what would I end up losing?" Jasper took another drink.
"If you keep talking suicidal, you're gonna end up losing your booze." Miller said.
Jasper seemed to sober up at those words.
"Well, goodnight then." Jasper turned, but Miller stopped him.
"I can't let (Y/N) roam free, Jasper. She's gonna have to stay here tonight." Miller explained.
Jasper shrugged.
"Fine. But I'm not sharing any of my moonshine." He slurred as he walked into his flat.
Millers wrist watched beeped, indicating that it was 9 pm, curfew.
"Hey, I can stop by your dorm and let Bellamy know that-."
"You can leave, is what you can do." You sneered.
Miller blinked, startled by your use of words.
Before he could say anything to this, Hannah Green rounded the corner, and raised her eyebrows at the sight of you, God forbid, two inches outside of a dorm 1 minute past curfew.
Once she saw that you were talking to Miller, she sighed.
"I can let this slide, but just this once." She gave you a curt nod.
"Oh, will you?" You gave a mock squeal of gratitude, your smile sarcastic.
Hannah frowned.
"I don't like your tone, young lady." She said, her jaw taut.
"And I don't like your face, you power hungry bitch." You jeered.
Hannah gave a gasp of shock, and pulled out a notepad and pen from her pockets.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to write you up." She said.
You only laughed.
"For what? I didn't threaten you. I'm not even within slapping distance of you."
Her face grew a deep shade of scarlet.
"Is that a threat?" She spoke firmly.
"Do you want it to be?" You move forward, but Millers hands stopped you as he placed them firmly on your shoulders.
"(Y/N), enough," He pleaded, really not in the mood to arrest his friend tonight.
Hannah took a look at the door number of Jaspers dorm, and cleared her throat. Everyone knew Jaspers number. Everyone on the Ark had guided him home at least once when he was too drunk to walk properly.
"I'm going to let this go. I will assume that you are helping Jasper. But if you speak to me like that ever again, you can expect a night in lockup." Hannah held her nose high in the air as she strutted away.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Miller lit into you.
"Are you stupid, (Y/N)?" He hissed.
"Are YOU stupid, Miller? You know what you're doing is wrong." You jeered.
Miller was not in the mood for anymore arguing tonight, so he just let out a defeated sigh, and massaged his temples.
"Have a goodnight, (Y/N)." He spoke softly as he walked away.
-
Bellamy was a mess. He reread the letter that was left for him over and over again until his eyes ached, and his heart couldn't take it anymore.
It had been hours, and he felt like a complete ass for letting you be gone this long.
Even if he went out into the halls without his guard uniform, he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't get in any trouble, being a member of the guard and all.
He opened the door, but before he left, he took the letter that you left him, and folded it neatly into a square so he could carry it with him in his pocket.
It felt strange not walking with you. Almost as if the silence was too loud.
He nearly ran into Monty as he booked it through the halls and around the corner.
"Bellamy, what's wrong? Why was (Y/N) at Harpers door crying?" Monty wondered.
"She's at Harpers?" Bellamys felt a weight lifted off of his shoulders. You were safe.
Monty shook his head.
"No, no. Harper wasn't home. I-I don't know where she is." Monty stuttered.
Bellamy took no more time in conversing, and continued to jog.
"Bellamy? What are you doing out? It's past midnight." Hannah stopped him, a smile on her face.
"My- my..."
What was he even supposed to call you now?
"(Y/N), (Y/L/N), have you seen her?" His voiced cracked pitifully at the end of his sentence.
Hannah's eyes softened.
"I was down at Jasper Jordan's place when curfew started. She was there." Hannah explained, pointing in the direction of which you were.
"Thank you." He nodded gratefully.
It would make sense that you were with Jasper.
Next to Harper, Jasper was your best friend. And you both had something to bond over.
The fact that someone you loved and cared for was killed by someone you loved and trusted...
How much deeper could a bond get?
When he got to Jaspers, the door was cracked open.
Bellamy frowned, and gave a knock.
"(Y/N)?" He loudly announced his arrival.
A groan could be be heard from inside.
A half asleep, not even ten percent conscious Jasper stumbled to the door.
"What do you want?" He growled.
"Jasper, I need to see (Y/N)." Bellamy pleaded.
Jasper moved out of the way, too exhausted for anymore conversing. He gestured widly to the couch in which you had been sleeping on no more than two hours ago.
But you weren't there.
In your place, was yet another note, announcing your departure to the woods where you planned to run away and live a life with Trikru, where you could be free.
All of the blood drained from Bellamys face, and he patted his pockets, cursing when he remembered he wasn't wearing his uniform and didn't have his walkie talkies.
He shoved this note hastily in his pocket, and sprinted out of the room, out into the entrance of Arkadia, where the night air was cool, and the lights bright.
He panicked, swiveling around frantically trying to imagine which direction you would go.
He caught sight of you a few hundred yards outside of the fence.
"(Y/N)! (Y/N)!" He screamed.
You turned around, his name almost passing your lips.
The sound of a gunshot answered him.
The crickets ceased their chirps, and time itself seemed to stand still as Bellamy watched your body crumble to the ground.
The watchman who had shot you realized his mistake as soon as he heard Bellamy scream.
That wasn't a Grounder.
Guards moved out past the gate, to examine the corpse.
They say you move faster when your adrenaline is pumping.
But Bellamy couldn't move fast enough.
"Don't touch her! Don't touch her!" Bellamy cried as a guard bent over to pick you up.
Your face was forever frozen. Your eyes wide with regret and heartache. Your lips beginning to form Bellamys name.
Bellamy let out a wail. It was a familiar wail.
It was the sound Raven made when she watched Finn die.
It was the sound Octavia made when she watched Lincoln die.
But this wail was different in a few ways.
It was full of more regret.
More sorrow.
As Bellamy held your bleeding body in his arms, the paper of the notes you had left crinkled in his pockets.
Both of them goodbye notes.
And Bellamy whispered the words he never got to say.
"It's you. I choose you."
♡Masterlist♡
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sir Reynard and the Red Knight
(aka 'The Tournament')
special notes:
the vibe i chose for this imaginary fair/holiday is a mashup of pieces from medieval christmas and new year's eve celebrations. ofc as I mentioned before most of those were Christianity-based, but some of them had a distintly pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon pagan flavor. now my source material here is from 1827, but the author makes sure to let us know which traditions (he thinks) are older than Christianity. the book (books actually, there's 3 of them total) itself is also kind of a fun read, it's sort of a combo of an almanac/calendar/reference guide/gossip column.
a n y w a y, so, specifically i want to mention (b/c i stole them for this story and i don't want to do that without letting ppl know these are or were real traditions that real people observed) serving a boars' head on christmas day (Essex, England, observed "from time immemorial"), the wassail bowl/toast (a new year custom very definitely from before Christianity and apparently present in various parts of Europe altho I don't have the specific expertise to explain why), and an interesting/weird/gruesome Christmas parade (Kent) which the book describes: "A party of young people procure the head of a dead horse, which is affixed to a pole about four feet in length, a string is tied to the lower jaw, a horse cloth is then attached to the whole, under which one of the party gets, and by frequently pulling the string keeps up a loud snapping noise." This is called a Hodening and whether or not ppl still do it I don't know but, uh, i hope so b/c awesome.
also theres only 1 chapter left if u stuck with it this whole time or, idk, it's 2024 and u read the whole thing at once thanks for bothering love u
----
9.
“Yes, hello,” Gascon said, pretending not to notice Meve’s displeasure. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he added, as the Baroness and Giselle turned to look curiously down at where he stood in the shadows. The Baroness frowned and pursed her lips judiciously; Giselle considered him and glanced uncertainly at the older women.
“Anyway,” he continued, an edge of urgency buried in his easy tone, “Do you have a minute to spare?”
“No,” the Queen said stiffly, turning back toward the empty lists. “I’m busy; whatever it is will have to wait until later.”
“Oh,” he replied, growing very faintly annoyed, “Because it’s about that thing you wanted last night; just thought you’d be interested t’ know I’ve done it.”
She hesitated, ignoring the Baroness’s raised eyebrow and Giselle’s uncomfortable confusion, struggled momentarily between curiosity and base pettiness, and finally said, “Yes, fine; I have a few minutes, I suppose.”
“Fifteen minutes,” the Baroness said, pointedly.
“No time to waste, then,” said Gascon; he winked at Giselle, who took her cue from the Baroness and frowned disapprovingly back at him, and they hurried off.
“So, what is it, then?” Meve asked bluntly, as they turned into the town’s streets at a rapid stroll. “I assume you’ve caught the saboteur, else you wouldn’t have bothered me.”
“Well, I caught Gaheris; he may be the saboteur, or may not,” Gascon said, disregarding her tone. “Gaspar thinks he is, though, and he’s th’ only one who saw th’ intruder close up last night, so odds are good he’s your man.”
“Really?” She abandoned her moodiness in favor of mild surprise, and then asked, “When did this happen?”
“Oh, only about an hour ago. Less, even. Seemed like there was no real need for a public scene, so I just had him snatched off the street and, you know - stashed somewhere convenient,” Gascon explained, leading the way down an alley and into a butcher. The owner nodded and smiled to him as he passed through the door and headed toward the back, spotted the Queen, and instantly looked away at nothing in particular. Pug and Gaspar waited in the yard behind the shop, standing guard over a man with a bag on his head and a bandage around his left ankle. Gascon nodded at Pug and she yanked the bag away; Gaheris squinted in the light and surveyed his surroundings - two large, brightly interested pigs in a pen, his sinister pair of captors, and, finally, Meve and Gascon. He sighed.
“Got ‘im in one piece, as you wanted,” Pug announced in her gruff voice; a dubious claim, as Gaheris had a black eye and a split lip, but Gascon nodded approvingly and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, toward the shop.
“Wait inside for a bit,” he said; Pug and Gaspar departed, leaving their captive to his deserved fate.
“Now, sir,” Meve said briskly to Gaheris; if she had any doubts about his culpability, she kept them firmly to herself. “Let’s not waste time with falsehoods or denials.”
“No,” he said, resignedly, “Doesn’t seem to be much point in trying.”
“Quite. So, explain what it is you’ve been up to, then.”
“Start with last night,” Gascon added, as the squire took a few too many seconds to think it over. “Hurry up.”
“Ah, well. I was trying to get hold of a piece of equipment I knew was among Sir Odo’s things in the barn,” he said. “The girth from a saddle.”
“Continue,” the Queen said, as he paused, clearly thinking the question answered.
“Well, obviously I didn’t get it, since that - that thug sliced my ankle t’ the bone when I tried. Seems the girth held up, though, regardless, through today; probably because Sir Odo don’t take many hits, luckily for him.”
“No, it’s because I found it last night and changed it out for a new one,” Gascon said, angrily. “You’re the one who cut it, are you?”
Gaheris nodded.
“I knew it,” the Duke muttered; Meve waved his self-congratulatory comment away, scowling.
“When did you do it?”
“Oh, a month ago, or more,” he said. “Just before the duel against Sir Holt.”
“Why?”
He blinked at the question and said, as if it was obvious, “Because Sir Holt told me to, in hopes he’d win.”
“You did a bad job, then,” Gascon snapped; Gaheris looked mildly offended.
“No,” he said. “No, I didn’t. The girth held, did it not? Sir Odo won - or, well he could have, if he’d wanted to.”
He looked at his interrogators’ baffled stares, and then explained, patiently, “Look - I cut through the leather, left just enough to hold a strain for a good while, glued it so it’d look like nothing, and told Holt I’d done what he wanted. Simple. I just didn’t have the chance to get it back, after the fight; too many people hanging around who might’ve seen me. If I had done, nobody would have been the wiser.”
Meve stared at him, torn between confusion and anger, opened her mouth, and closed it again as an echo of distant horns bounced off the buildings.
“Damn,” she said. “I have to go. Gascon, find Sir Holt.”
“What should I do with him?” he asked, as she turned to leave; she hesitated, considered her options, and came to a hasty decision.
“Just keep tabs on him, don’t let him leave town, and - and we’ll sort this mess out, later.”
“You’ll find him in the tavern, no doubt,” Gaheris said wearily to Gascon, as she quickly departed.
She nearly ran back through the streets, but she was still late; she returned to the lists to find the Baroness had started the final round without her. However, she she was in time to see Nolda avoid an immediate defeat by the same method she had used on Sir Eres, but Reynard survived her trick, when his fellow knight hadn’t. She nodded in satisfaction at the display.
“Your man is a quick study, as he’s always been,” said the Baroness, as if Meve had never been away. The next pass involved no deceptions from either side, nor any displays of brilliance; Nolda blocked an ordinary sort of attack on her shield, and never touched Sir Odo.
“He’s testing the waters,” Meve said, slightly bored with her favorite’s typically cautious tactics. “How long have they been at it?”
“You only missed one pass; the foreigner’s better at this than I expected.”
“She’s tricky,” Giselle noted, appreciatively. “What’s the Count doing, there?”
There was a short pause; Meve glanced downfield and answered, “Oh, he wants a different lance, I imagine.”
The delay took a full half minute, due to some confusion on Ethan’s part; the Baroness mumbled a displeased remark about the squire’s ineptitude, and then the combat began again.
“He wants to make up for Nolda’s left-handedness,” the Baroness explained, louder, “That’s what the long spear is for. Most people don’t learn to fight the way she does -”
She broke off; Reynard’s change of weapon had answered, and he had dealt a strike that had nearly unseated his opponent; she managed to stay in the saddle by luck or skill and they lined up again.
“He has her figured out; this’ll be th’ end of it,” said Meve. The Baroness nodded agreement. Giselle looked unconvinced, but, in the end, Reynard landed a direct attack to his opponent’s helm and Nolda crashed to earth at long last.
“A devilishly difficult play,” the Baroness said, in the silence that followed. “Dangerous, too.”
Reynard had turned to look behind himself, before his horse had even reached the end of the barricade; Nolda lay still on the ground for a few moments, and then, as her husband vaulted the fence and came running toward her, stirred and sat up. She waved an irritated hand at Bohault and Reynard, who had trotted back and dropped from his horse as soon as he was rid of his lance, but neither paid attention to her gestures or her repeated insistence that she was perfectly fine. The crowd’s general din returned, drowning out their conversation; Meve breathed a relieved sigh and reluctantly turned her thoughts back to Gaheris and Sir Holt, and then - she frowned slightly - Gascon’s mysterious absence during the day.
“Pity you can’t make her a knight,” Giselle said, of Nolda, interrupting her consideration; Meve’s frown grew thoughtful.
“A knight,” she repeated to herself, under her breath, watching the muddle on the field break up - Reynard back to his horse, Bohault and Nolda to hers - a vague connection, or suspicion, growing in the back of her mind. She turned abruptly to the Baroness, interrupted an ongoing reminisce on the handful of times she’d seen another knight employ a tactic similar to Reynard’s winning strike, and said, “Listen, Hilde - the black knight; do you know who he is?”
The Baroness hesitated, slightly confused, and replied, choosing her words carefully, “I believe so, but - wasn’t that what you and the Duke spoke about?”
“No,” the Queen said, disgruntled. “No, it wasn’t.”
“Ah,” she said, looking away toward the approaching victors, “Well, perhaps you should. Count Odo, congratulations on another victory; well fought, Nolda. My lord, you’ve won quite a fine horse, I believe, and you, madam, a sword. They’ll be bringing them along shortly.”
Any personal urgency she felt to finally sort out her ongoing affairs was wasted; the prizes took very little time to hand out, but a number of unrelated problems were brought to her individual attention as soon as the victors rode away. She sent Giselle back to her tavern with genuine gratitude for her service, dealt out various solutions, and then at last she and the Baroness set off toward the castle. The streets of the city were packed, twilight was setting in, and there was no way to hurry their progress no matter how their guard tried. A wagon that had lost a wheel blocked the way, first, and then a succession of other disruptions: a traveling comedic play about a sorcerer and some maidens, some cows wandering loose in the street, a troupe of drunken minstrels playing festive tunes, a strange procession led by a solemn youth holding a freshly cut horse’s head mounted on a pole as a banner, a group of offended clerics in its wake, handcarts selling buns and ale, and, finally, on the bridge over the castle moat, an armored knight still on his charger, who would not be shifted by man or beast until Meve stepped out of the torchlit crowd and threatened to remove him herself.
Then there was yet another feast, this time held in the hall and attended by more of the usual crowd - but, of course, with the horde of knights and sundry that had participated in the jousts, somewhat more of them than normal. There were the typical, expected customs - a boar’s head served, bowls of spiced ale passed around, a number of favors and pardons bestowed, gifts received (and given; Count Odo, for one, courteously gave the warhorse he’d won earlier in the day to Nolda, who accepted it in a fiercely embarrassed but otherwise gracious fashion) - and various other ancient rituals observed.
“I would’ve asked if you thought giving her the horse was a good idea,” Reynard said privately to the Queen, during the Mayor’s inevitable remarks, “But I didn’t catch you in time. If I’m honest it’s less a gift and more a bribe, of a sort; Ethan’s left-handed, same as her, and I thought it might make it easier to convince her to teach him.”
“There were some delays getting back,” she replied, also in an undertone, her eyes resolutely fixed on the speaker as he recited a hopeful list of future developments for the upcoming year. “This whole afternoon’s been nothing but delays, in fact.”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” she added, quickly, as the speech ended, aimed a quick but pointed glance at the distant Gascon, who immediately slipped out a side door, and then dismissed the court in the exact words she’d recited for ten years, and, before her, her late husband, and his father, and their distant grandfathers, for all of remembered history.
Finally getting rid of her guests took much longer than the traditional close to the winter solstice did. As a result, it was past midnight before she made the solitary climb up the stairs to her office, looking forward to finally having a quiet minute to think. However, Reynard and Gascon - and Gaheris - were within, despite the late hour; the squire stopped in the middle of a sentence and all three men automatically turned her way when she stepped through the door. She waved an impatient hand at him to continue and leaned against her own desk, hiding her weariness behind a cold stare. Gaheris returned to repeating his confession; Reynard listened in silence, his expression drifting subtly between offense and genuine confusion. At the end, he frowned and asked, “You - pretended to sabotage my equipment? Why? Why not do it properly, I mean?”
The squire shrugged.
“It’s - listen; before I go on, you should know Holt’s an ass, and a stubborn one at that. Yes, I see you’ve all noticed. Well, I couldn’t dissuade him when th’ idea came into his fool head, but I’d no wish t’ see him win a fight by such a trick, against such an obviously superior opponent. It’s not right, and, also, would be easily seen through. What I did seemed the simplest solution.”
“You could have refused,” Reynard pointed out; Gaheris smiled pityingly at him and shook his head. His response drew an exasperated comment from Meve.
“You could have done nothing at all, and told him otherwise.”
He frowned, again mildly offended.
“I’m no liar,” he said. “If I can find any other solution, I mean. They say a half-truth’s better than a lie, don’t they?”
Reynard blinked, considered, and then shook his head. Gascon shrugged his shoulders, grudgingly.
“You’re clearly a capable man,” Meve said. “Why do you serve someone you know isn’t?”
Gaheris shook his head again, helplessly.
“Holt’s always been like this,” he explained, “Ever since he was a boy. He’s a decent fighter, but he’s too competitive for his own good, and he’s still not learned t’ pick his battles. However, he is my little brother - well, half-brother; my mother married Sir Ulrich after my father died. He was a stonemason,” he explained, seeing the Queen raise a questioning eyebrow, a gleam of challenge in his dark eyes. “His name was Gors.”
When she failed to react to his admission, he continued:
“Anyway, she wanted me t’ look after Holt, best I can. He isn’t a bad person, really, he just -”
He shrugged.
“He can’t help how he is, when he’s in a mood, and when he isn’t he’s not the worst of men, or the worst of nobles, for that matter. He’s never struck a knight who’s yielded, for one, and he’s not one to steal or run villainous among th’ yeomen. And, he’s all the family I got left,” he finally finished. Meve nodded and said nothing for a long moment; she noticed that he couldn’t have been any older than herself, but he briefly appeared gray and worn down. She was, to her mild irritation, somewhat sympathetic to his troubles. Gascon glanced from her icy frown to Gaheris’s tired stare, curiously. Reynard watched her carefully.
“Keep him under guard,” she said to Gascon. “I’m not sure what to do with him or his brother, just yet. Wait - leave him on the landing; the guards there will look after him for the moment. I’ve another matter to discuss, before you go.”
“He’s the black knight,” she said to Reynard, as Gascon stepped back in without his captive. “Did you know?”
“No, of course not,” the Count said, frowning slightly. “Although, in truth, th’ idea has crossed my mind, but I found it - unlikely.”
Gascon hesitated, then shrugged, grinned broadly, and said, “You caught me at last, m’lady; how’d you figure it?”
“The Baroness it was that discovered you, not me,” Meve said, crossing her arms stubbornly; she attempted to appear angry, but in the end managed only mild, slightly amused, annoyance. “Also, she appears to have found me out, as well, incidentally. In fact, there seems to be very little she doesn’t know.”
“She’s uncommonly sharp, no doubt about it,” Gascon agreed, readily.
“So,” she continued, “Is there anything at all to be gained by asking you what you were doing, today?”
“Won’t tell you unless you first promise not t’ bite my head off,” he said promptly.
“Yes, very well, as it’s the solstice, but don’t expect any more favors from me before the summer, at earliest. I mean it, Gascon.”
Reynard sat down, shaking his head at them; Gascon nodded and said, “Fair’s fair. Well, then, it’s a short tale: I won that fight against Sir Holt, then I saw Gaheris come limping ‘round to scrape him up off the turf, and it all came together clear as mud, so I decided it was time t’ stop playing at knights for the day and do some real work.”
“You could have appeared in the joust as yourself,” Reynard remarked, almost idly, “And not as -”
“As me,” Meve interrupted, a hint of her previous ire returning.
“Yes, well - the black knight’s more interesting than I am,” he explained, with a broad shrug. “People have heard of his prowess, or what have you; the dangerous reputation’s an advantage, of sorts.”
“Yes, we’ve heard, in fact,” Meve said, coldly. “Slew a werewolf, did you?”
“Sure did,” Gascon replied. “Or, I helped, anyhow. There was a witcher involved. Like Gaheris said: half a truth’s better than a lie, so I let the former take precedence.”
“That’s not the saying, as you know perfectly well. It’s worse,” Reynard said, rolling his eyes. “Half a truth is worse than a lie.”
Gascon shrugged at him, grinning slightly. Meve interrupted their tangent, impatiently.
“And you killed a dragon, they say?”
“Not I,” the Duke said, quickly, eyeing the Queen’s scowl. “Th’ only dragonslayer here is yourself - although, I did kill a pretty big snake in a roadside inn. The landlady was most impressed. So was some minstrel who happened t’ be around, it appears; he has, uh, embellished th’ incident, somewhat.”
“Yes, that much is obvious,” Reynard noted, “But how’d he know it was the black knight who did the deed and not merely one Gascon Brossard?”
At last, Gascon turned uncomfortably self-conscious and clammed up; Meve watched him squirm for a long moment and decided, after a glance at the amused gleam in Reynard’s eye, to not to press the issue further.
“And you gave poor Sir Orlac a dunking,” she remarked, finally; Gascon looked relieved and seized on the change in subject.
“Yes, that story’s true,” he admitted. “He’s not a bad fighter, at all, thought he don’t seem to enjoy it much. It took some convincing t’ even get him to go against me, actually, but it was worth the time, in th’ end, to get th’ extra practice.”
“You have improved, somewhat,” Reynard observed, casually. He shot a quick look at Meve; she spotted it and broke off her intended response, frowning. Gascon either missed or ignored their exchange and said, brightly, “Why thank you, sir.”
“Although,” the knight continued, “It remains to be seen if you can beat me just yet; Meve, of course, has already unhorsed you once, so no there’s burning question to be answered on that account.”
“By a trick,” Gascon said, and then, as Reynard shrugged unconcernedly, added, “Look, I only really wanted t’ fight Sir Holt and beat him, again, to prove I could, like. I had no notion of much else.”
“Yes, very likely,” Meve muttered, rolling her eyes; Reynard continued, despite her:
“Not afraid to lose, are you?”
“Of course not; it happens all the time,” Gascon said, mildly indignant.
“Well, then, tomorrow, if you’ve no other plans, let’s see how good you’ve really become, shall we? Without your intimidating disguise, I mean.”
“Well, all right,” the Duke said, doubtfully, clearly wary about what exactly he was agreeing to. “I suppose I’m not busy, but - “
“Good. I’ll see you first thing in the morning, then,” Reynard said, a suggestion of finality in his voice; Gascon still looked uncertain, but nodded and then made a tactical retreat to “see to those other matters.”
“What the devil are you at, Reynard?” Meve asked, the instant he was gone. He stood up, strode across the room with a self-satisfied smile, and wrapped his arms around her.
“You’ve had a long day,” he said, “Let me worry about it.”
“Ugh. Fine, then; do what you want,” she said, ingraciously, leaned her forehead against his chest, and continued with a muffled sigh, “What do you think I should do with Holt? I can’t very well banish him for trying to cheat in a duel, much as I’d like to - he is the sole legal heir to Sir Ulrich, who has been a relatively loyal supporter of the crown - nor can I demote him, since he isn’t one of my own knights.”
“Just ban him from your tournaments, and the rest of the realm will follow,” he said, as if it was obvious, “It’s the worst thing that could happen to a young knight.”
“You’d know better than I,” she remarked, unfolded her arms, slid them around his waist, and added, “What about Gaheris?”
“I don’t know,” Reynard said, “He’s not so easy to deal with.”
“The trouble is,” Meve said, darkly, “- the trouble is that, in his circumstances, he’s done nothing worse than you or I have in the past, which makes me feel something of a hypocrite if I consider having him arrested for treason - as I certainly could, given your indispensable position and high rank.”
“Yes, a - a similar thought crossed my own mind, to be honest.”
“Well, it’s true,” she said, raising her head and frowning up at him. “Isn’t it? Reginald -”
“He wasn’t quite so bad as Holt.”
“Because he was older, and the King, and no other reason. Well, and he had you around to clean up after his worst decisions. And, his sons - my sons - are the same, or worse, than Sir Holt. Or were, I mean. Anseis certainly is, in any case.”
“Perhaps,” Reynard said, thoughtfully, “There’s no need to do anything to Gaheris, at all.”
“As you’re th’ one he wronged, in th’ end I think what happens to him should really be your decision,” Meve said, shrugging.
“Well, then, speaking from experience, the man’s trials in keeping control of his brother are worse than anything you might think up.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. I’ve no wish to see him hang or rot in prison, but banishment would be no curse to him, and we’d have to contend with Holt still, regardless, but without a convenient manager. What a waste; were he noble-born, I’d have some use for a man of his talents, and I could more easily secure his future loyalty. A shame, to have Holt be th’ one who inherits old Ulrich’s lands and titles, and Gaheris remain a squire still.”
“I agree,” Reynard said. “However, that problem only you can solve.”
She looked into his eyes, thoughtfully, and nodded.
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey. I saw your comment about Cornelia Street possibly being Elizabeth street. Do you have a full more detailed song analysis of it being about time spent at Karlie’s place and not about time spent in the apartment Taylor rented?
I don’t have any evidence of it, it’s just purely speculation. But, there are a couple reasons why I say it’s a fun, creative possibility it’s written about (1)spending time at Karlie’s apartment on Elizabeth street in early 2014(January-March), as opposed to (2)the time at Cornelia St. (May/June 2016-early 2017(so about 6 months to one single year))
So let’s look at the first hypothetical scenario: (1) spending time at Karlie’s apartment on Elizabeth street in early 2014(January-March)
A) the simplest reason that it started out as just a fun, comical thought was “they have the same syllables!🤪” but then I was like “wait a minute...”
B) at the end of Cornelia St. there’s sounds of a storm...which could be the sound of the “perfect storm” of Clean.
C) In “...Ready for It” it talks about “let the games begin”...and in Cornelia St. it says “back when we were card sharks playing games, I thought you were leading me on.”
i. This also makes me believe RFI is also written early on. I do believe it’s a song of duality and sarcasm, as others have also speculated. The verses being her bombastic media alter ego and the chorus being her real self. AND, in the RFI chorus the original lyrics were “in the middle of the night in my dreams, that’s when I get to be with you; you’re so sweet.” —-> wildest dreams is all about dreaming of being with someone, not to mention the liner note HE ONLY SAW HER IN HIS DREAMS, so is “Sometimes I wonder when you sleep Are you ever dreaming of me?” in Delicate, which leads me to believe all 4 songs (Delicate, Wildest Dreams, ...Ready For It, and Cornelia St.) refer to the dreams about the NEW relationship. (“Every night with us is like a dream” in New Romantics also seems like a duality sarcasm song)
ii. Speaking of “NEW”!!... “Sacred new beginnings”
D.) Lyric analysis:
- “We were in the backseat Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar.” Could this be the same bar in Delicate? “Dive bar on the east side where you at?”
- "I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car. Now I know this song in general is in first person but it could be written from Karlie’s perspective. I think Welcome To New York is written from Karlie’s perspective(“you” being Taylor and “me” being Karlie), and I think the same goes for This Is What You Came For(“she” being Taylor). I have no reason to believe the “I” in Cornelia St. isn’t Taylor...but I also have no reason to believe it isn’t Karlie.
- “We were a fresh page on the desk” resonates again like “sacred NEW beginnings.” Like a new relationship, also “page” is referenced again in NYD
- To me, “Filling in the blanks as we go” has the same echo as “we can’t make any promises now can we babe?”(Delicate) and “don’t read the last page”(New Year’s Day)—-Sidenote: I also think NYD is talking About the rebirth that resulted from “Clean”
- “As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead leading us home.” This line is recognising the place in the song(wether it be Karlie’s apartment on elizabeth st. Or the place on Cornelia st.) as a place they both recognise as home. “Home” is also regurgitated in I Think He Knows: “I think he knows When we get all alone I’ll make myself at home And he'll want me to stay.” —— ITHK is also a song I perceive to be written early in their relationship, after Wildest Dreams. Where it’s still delicate but Taylor thinks Karlie knows Taylor is invested. “we can follow the sparks I’ll drive. so where we gonna go?” Sparks indicate newness, and I think it’s them planning Big Sur, especially since Taylor drove
- “I get mystified by how this city screams your name”, now, Karlie, as we all know, is allll over NYC career wise and billboard wise lol and, maybe the wonderful enchantment and awe of it never ends and is always amazing...but it could also be the beginning of them knowing each other, finding out this new person you’re into IS all over NYC, it IS mystifying
- “I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away.” The “walking away” is expected when they meet, in Wildest Dreams...but I think this line signifies a turning point for their commitment being more substantial. Saying the possibility of Karlie walking away is possible but terrifying
- “Windows swung right open, autumn air.” Now this fits with the 2016 timeline, and it could very well be true...or it could be an edit to make it fit more with the Joe timeline. If she were really talking about Elizabeth street, it would’ve been during winter...which, is when jackets are worn lol “Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours”
- “We bless the rains on Cornelia Street.” This makes me think of Spring time(April showers bring May flowers)...but neither 2016 or 2014 shows Spring being a season when they lived on either street. So maybe rain is metaphorical in this sense. I’m not sure how though
- “Back when we were card sharks playing games, I thought you were leading me on.” Assuming this was written about early 2014, “games” is reiterated in multiple songs, as I said before. “Baby let the games begin”(RFI), “cat and mouse for a month or two or three”(paper rings) “I’m about to play my ace”(New Romantics).
- “I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street Before you even knew I was gone.” Taylor spends time with Karlie from potentially as early as December/early January 2014 until presumably ~Jan. 27-~Feb 1st, 2014 when she returns back to the Red tour in London.
- “But then you called, showed your hand. I turned around before I hit the tunnel; Sat on the roof, you and I.” They confessed feelings and sat on Taylor’s roof together, which is reiterated in King of My Heart: “is this the end of all the endings?...all these nights we’re spending up on the roof...” Then Taylor goes back on tour, and since she’s happily in a new relationship(or stabilism to say the least), she probably pens “I Forgot that You Existed” and “Clean” about being in London on the Red tour from ~Jan. 28- ~Feb. 9, 2014 at the same time as Dianna and she didn’t even think of her.
- “You hold my hand on the street, Walk me back to that apartment. Years ago, we were just inside”- now assuming this is written in 2014 about 2014 it’d be “months” ago...and if it were written 2018 about early 2014 it’d be “years ago”
- “Sacred new beginnings That became my religion.” I think this is echoed again in Don’t Blame Me, which I think in part is about the trip to Big Sur, and about getting a new publicist.
- “I rent a place on Cornelia st. I say casually in the car.” Honestly I have no idea why the song opens AND closes with this sentence. Is the opener past tense and the closing line present tense? Is the opening line supposed to be Elizabeth at and the closing line Cornelia?? I dont know lol
NOW, let’s look at the second hypothetical scenario and say this song was (2) written in 2018 about May/June 2016-early 2017(so anywhere from about 6 months to one single year))
A) at the end of Cornelia St. there’s sounds of a storm...which could be the sound of “the storm that’s coming” in Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince
B) Lyric analysis:
- “I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car. I dont know why this would be said casually as if to seem cool if they were dating for two years at this point, unless it’s casually in an expected sense
- “We were a fresh page on the desk Filling in the blanks as we go.” So renting Cornelia street happened right after Tayvin ended and right as Hiddleswift started(knowing what that outcome was going to be, and knowing Joe was the ultimate long term goal from a PR perspective) so they had everything mapped out, a fresh page (“paper thin plans”(DBATC))
- “I get mystified by how this city screams your name” like I said earlier, maybe the amazement never ends or gets old
- “I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away” after so much time spent together like two years it would be terrifying if this significant person walked away
- “Windows swung right open, autumn air” this does follow the timeline of 2016
- “We bless the rains on Cornelia Street” I still think this is metaphorical because spring of 2016 also isn’t a time when they lived at Cornelia st.
- “Back when we were card sharks, playing games I thought you were leading me on” probably reminiscing on the games being played in the beginning of 2014 two years ago
- “I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street Before you even knew I was gone” i dont know why you wouldn’t tell your long term partner of two years you’re leaving the place or why they wouldn’t know, but the rental of Cornelia st ended in early 2017. Maybe it was to avoid the paps and press
- “But then you called, showed your hand I turned around before I hit the tunnel Sat on the roof, you and I.” I dont know why you wouldn’t know the hand of someone you’ve been seriously dating for two years...
- “You hold my hand on the street Walk me back to that apartment.” Taylor and Karlie didn’t have much, if any, PDA in 2018 so I’m not sure what it’s referring to here
- “Years ago we were just inside.” So heres where it makes me thing it was written about 2014. Even if this were written in 2018 about 2016 it would baaarely qualify for “years ago”, especially since moving out was early 2017
- “‘I rent a place on Cornelia st. I say casually in the car’” I still don’t know why this is repeated at the end
#taylor swift#taylorswift#ts#lover#kaylor#gaylor#swift#1989#karlie#kloss#gaylor swift#klossy#karliekloss#karlie kloss#cornelia st#cornelia street#song analysis#rep#reputation
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
1221
Are you mad at your best friend right now? I have absolutely no reason to be angry with Angela now and certainly not since our last petty childhood fight in like, 2009.
Do you know anybody with a pet snake? I used to know somebody, but she’s since gone off the radar and idek if her pet snake would still be alive at this point.
Do you buy your underwear in a pack or seperately? I can go either way.
Have you ever made fun of anybody and later became their friend? OMG yesss this was the entire background of my friendship with Sofie. Though I wouldn’t say I made fun of her...I just found her really annoying at first, and quite ditzy, too. Then something just clicked and worked out along the way and we ended up being best friends for quite some time until we went our separate ways shortly after college life started.
Is the lamp on in the room you're in? Yes; it’s one of my favorite pieces in my room.
Do you have a pair of shoes that you can only wear with one or two outfits? Nah, not really. I mostly own sneakers, which can go with most things casual.
Is there any drink that you absolutely MUST drink cold? Most drinks, honestly; but mainly, I like my coffee and water cold.
Did you sleep in past noon today? I don’t think I’ve ever done that. The latest I’ve woken up is probably a little over 10.
Did your grandma ever tell you about her love life? Neither of them have.
Have you ever painted anybody's nails aside from your own? Possibly, but I no longer recall it.
Anything exciting happening in the month of September? I don’t think so. There are couple of birthdays in the family, but we don’t have plans for those days yet.
Who is your last missed call from? Some media or blogger I ignored because I don’t take calls.
When was the last time you ate Frosted Flakes? I can’t remember...I don’t really eat cereal.
Did you ever NOT want a substitute in a certain class? Yeah, for classes I hated, like math.
Do you ever donate to the less fortunate? Not regularly. When a homeless person or street child knocks on my car while waiting in traffic I do try to give them some money and/or snack, if I have one in my bag.
Did you buy an American flag after 9/11 to put on your car/house/ whatever? I was barely conscious in 2001. I am also not American.
Do you know any songs that are older than you are? ...Many?
Are there framed pictures of you anywhere in your house? Yeah we have some framed photos going up the staircase. I also have my Prep graduation portrait up in my room.
Compared to other people of your age would you be considered 'NORMAL'? Ugh.
Honestly, do you have any Hilary Duff on your MP3 player? I don’t have an MP3 player but I don’t think I ever had Hilary Duff on any of my music players.
Who is worst in your family about calling people back? Probably Nina as she hates making calls to begin with.
Do you like peanut M&M's? Nah, I hate nuts in my chocolate.
When was the last time you had an ice cream sandwich? Safe to say well over a year ago. It’s not my snack of choice haha I never understood why I had to bite into my ice cream.
When was the last time you ate jelly beans? August 2019.
When was the last time you had hot chocolate? Around a month ago, I’d say? My mom fixes me a mug of hot choco every once in a while.
Have you ever caught a friend cheating on their bf/gf? I haven’t.
What was the last song stuck in your head? I think it had been Rain by BTS.
Do you enjoy doing math? If I know how the math works and have the formulas memorized, I can definitely find it fun. Math had actually been pretty manageable for me in school, at least right until we reached trig and calc which were just bleck.
Do you think your mom has secrets she’s never told you? Oh without a doubt. I’m 200% sure everyone in the family has secrets we never share; we’re not open with each other.
Do you own anything you don’t want your parents to know about? Yes.
Do you pose in your pictures or just smile? I will pose if I’m comfortable but most of the time I just smile.
Are there any colors you will NOT wear? I avoid orange as much as possible.
Do you use scented soap in the shower? Nah, just a normal-scented one.
Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? That was never part of my plans, no.
Who was the last person you danced with? Enjoyable? Angela and Hans. I was drunk, so yes I had fun lol.
Do you like convertibles? I don’t really care for them, or for cars in general.
Have you ever yelled at the television? So many times, usually when a favorite singer or band is performing OR when I’m watching a really intense sports game - usually basketball or wrestling.
How many songs on your MP3 player are about sex? -
Do you like water parks? I think they are nasty for the most part.
Dark or light colored jeans? Light.
Can you take apart a computer and name all the parts? Nope.
Can you take apart a car and name all the parts? Even more so no.
Would your friends describe you as nerdy? I don’t think they would.
How many different colors are you wearing right now? Five.
Have you ever purchased a lotto ticket? Nope.
--
Are you double-jointed anywhere? I am not.
What is the longest amount of time you've spent playing Monopoly? You know, I’ve never even understood the rules of Monopoly...I’ve never bothered to play a round of it. Board games are usually too complicated for me lol.
Have you ever witnessed a tornado first-hand? Not a tornado, no. But I’ve experienced countless hurricanes and floods.
Did you play in the sand box as a kid? It was my favorite part of the playground and I was always exclusively found in a sandbox. I liked the texture (still do) + no one was ever there, so as a shy kid it worked out perfectly for me.
How about on the monkey bars? I tried it every now and then but I wasn’t a very active kid, so my arms would feel strained fairly quickly. It was never the first thing I’d run to whenever I got to go to the playground.
Have you ever made an alarm go off? I don’t think so.
Have you ever colored your eyebrows? Nope.
Did you ever own a pop-up book? Many of them, as a kid.
Have you ever honked at a biker? Yes but only whenever they swerve a little bit and are about to hit my car.
Have you ever taken another person's prescribed medication? No?
Have you ever played golf (not miniature golf)? No, I’ve played neither version. The sport doesn’t interest me.
Do you use gel in your hair? Only for formal events where I can’t afford to show up with my hair all frizzy.
Do you own a garden gnome? We don’t.
Are any of the rooms in your house painted blue? Nope, they’re all white. My parents’ room used to be green (came with the house), but it looked gross so it didn’t take long before they hired someone to paint the walls white.
Do you kick off your shoes as soon as you walk in the door? Yes. Actually, since the start of COVID, we’ve taken to removing our shoes even before we enter. We have a mat right by the front door where we can properly take off our shoes and head inside already barefoot.
Have you ever judged a book by its cover? Sometimes, but I don’t let it linger.
What is the most effective device at the gym? I don’t go to the gym.
Can you drive a stick shift? Hahahaha no, and I’m not so sure I’m ever willing to learn.
Have you ever picked on a substitute teacher? That’s mean and no, I haven’t.
How good are you at giving directions? Terrible. As much as possible I don’t do it and just refer the person asking to my nearest friend/companion.
When was the last time you looked out the window nearest you? Just a few minutes ago, actually. I put an arm out to check if it’s chilly outside since it rained all day today.
Have you ever got dressed with the windows open? Never. I make sure to pull down my blinds every time.
Have you ever given a foot massage? No.
Do public restrooms freak you out? They don’t freak me out per se but like I rarely go into them and use them, even before Covid. The idea of sharing a toilet with strangers is super gross lol and many of them don’t even put away their trash properly.
Have you ever taken a shower outside? I may have, but nothing sticks out.
Have you ever been to a junkyard? I don’t think so.
What do you think of Brad Pitt? I don’t really have an opinion...I loved his episode on Friends, but that’s it.
Have you ever watched the History Channel willingly? Yes, a few times.
Have you ever used pennies to pay for something that cost over 50 cents? I don’t speak US currency, but yeah there’ve been around 1-2 times I had to pay for something worth P50 with just coins. It’s always been embarrassing lol so I try to avoid it and be prepared with paper bills as much as I can.
If a place makes you pay for delivery - do you still tip the driver? Yes.
Without the aid of a cell phone - do you know your parents numbers by heart? Just my mom’s. Since my dad is always in and out of the country (at least until the pandemic), I’ve never gotten to memorize his number.
Can you name 10 former presidents? Arroyo, Macapagal, Aquino, another Aquino, Estrada, Ramos, Magsaysay, Quirino, Quezon, Roxas.
But if we’re talking about US presidents...Obama, Trump, Clinton, Roosevelt, another Roosevelt I believe, Nixon, Reagan, Carter, Lincoln, Washington. I hope I got them right hahaha.
Have you ever bought a gift for a teacher? Just as a kid.
Is your bedroom carpeted? Nope.
Right now, what color is your tongue? Pink.
When was the last time you had a Tootsie Pop? Years ago. I don’t have it a lot.
If you could get the cell phone of your choice - what would it be? iPhone 12 Pro Max.
Who is your favorite super hero? I don’t have any.
How about your favorite villain? I don’t really have any, either.
Do you know anybody who works at a bank? Possibly, but I can’t place a name right now.
What do you usually order from your favorite fast food place? That would be KFC, and I usually order either their Zinger or Twister. FUCK now I want to get KFC :((
Do you hand out candy to kids on Halloween? No, because none of them ever reach this part of the village. We never have to prepare any candy lol.
What perfume/cologne do you wear the most? Heat Rush.
Can you name all 7 dwarfs? I always miss out on one or two.
Does the early bird really catch the worm? Idk what this expression is.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Finally, the update on my health
TW: lots and lots and lots of talk about health, and bad health, in particular, below. So I know I never really updated everyone on What Was (is) Going On With My Health. It’s been a huge mess, and I run out of spoons every day just trying to eat meals at the right times to take my meds. Shortest version possible (believe it or not): at the end of May last year, 2019, pretty much all my joints and extremities swelled up unbelievably. Like I couldn’t put my feet on the floor because they were so swollen it felt like the skin would split open. I had to sit in a chair all day with my feet elevated on a stool and pillows just to keep them from continuing to swell, and I had to sleep with pillows under my feet to keep them from swelling more during the night. I say “sleep” loosely, because I was getting about an hour to two hours of very interrupted sleep every night. The swelling was so bad that just to leave my chair where my feet were elevated, and go sit at the table to eat meals, my feet would swell so bad it was hard for me to walk from the table back to my chair. Then my hands started going numb and tingly, but not in a “my hands are asleep” kind of way, but more an “this is excruciatingly painful but I still can’t feel my hands” kind of way. I couldn’t close my hands into a fist, and I couldn’t open my hands either, they were frozen in a sort of half curled position. There were several weeks where I couldn’t hold a fork or spoon to feed myself. There were months upon months were I couldn’t brush or wash my hair by myself. I spent months with my hands/wrists/feet/ankles packed in ice every 20 minutes to try to control the swelling. I also had this awful brain fog situation where I couldn’t focus on anything. Even if I had been able to hold a book, tablet, or phone (which I couldn’t, because my hands were so bad), I couldn’t read because I had absolutely zero concentration or focus or comprehension. Even watching TV was almost impossible because I would zone out and come back to awareness and so much time had passed I’d have no idea what was going on. I literally spent three or four months just sitting in that chair in pain, staring at the ceiling, crying on and off. So, so much more below the cut.
I could barely attend my niece and nephews baptism. We were there for as long as it took for the actual service to happen, and while I tried to stay for the meal and gifts and such, I was in such excruciating pain--and using a cane to even be able to walk--that we had to leave early. My niece’s 4th birthday was a few weeks later, in late June, and again I was there with a cane and in excruciating pain. I’m my niece’s favourite person and having to tell her Auntie couldn’t get down and play with her, or hold her, was terrible. By the end of June, my PCP had run enough tests to be outside his area of knowledge and referred me out to a rheumatologist. The earliest the one I wanted to see could see me was January. This was the first week of July. So I looked around for whoever could see me first and chose them. The soonest someone could see me was, unfortunately, on my birthday last year, July 15th. So I spent my birthday seeing the rheumatologist, being diagnosed with carpal tunnel, tendinitis, and what he suspected was rheumatoid arthritis. Once I left his office, I spent my birthday getting bloodwork (8 vials, yikes, which continued monthly for the remainder of 2019), and then getting fitted for a set of wrist braces that I would have to sleep in for maybe the rest of my life, and wear during the day when the pain was so bad. The rheumatologist literally said to me “well, none of your labwork confirms this and we don’t really know, but we’re gonna treat you as if you had rheumatoid arthritis”. Although he kept running tests to try to confirm the RA, he didn’t look anywhere else to try and figure out what I actually have. So they started me on medication(s), and referred me to occupational therapy and physical therapy. I was so bad when I started going that my PT consisted of sitting in a chair and (trying) to flex my ankles in different directions, and then a lymph massage to try to reduce swelling. My occupational therapy, when I started, consisted of trying to pick up pieces of sponges and put them in a cup. I was so bad that was actually almost impossible for me. They also referred me out to have a nerve conduction test, where they stuck needles all through my arms and electrified them. It was the worst thing ever, let me tell you. Then I got referred to a hand surgeon (who is lovely, actually) for surgery. He decided to hold off on surgery and see if steroid shots would help (they did, to an extent, and I am so grateful for that). Fast forwards through months and months of testing and bloodwork and physical and occupational therapies and medications, and the swelling had reduced enough that I could stand up or walk to the bathroom or eat dinner without swelling up so bad anymore. Being at PT and OT still meant I came home and had to pack my feet and wrists in ice and elevate to take care of the extra swelling, but it was better. Not good, not right, but better. Fast forward more, still, and it’s December. At that point I could stand long enough to help cook dinner, or even run an errand or two before I was in too much pain and had to sit and elevate again. In mid-March they released me from PT and OT. Not because I was better--I still couldn’t (and can’t, now) bend my wrists at all--but because the prescription had run out. I’d basically used all the allotted amount I had. This ended up being alright in the long run, since aside from one trip to the lab for bloodwork, I haven’t left my house since my last day of OT on March 13th, due to Covid. Turns out having an auto-immune disease and being on immunosuppresants makes you REAL high risk for Covid, and I’m just not playing that game. At the beginning of April, I finally got to see the rheumatologist I WANTED to see all along (via video visit! Didn’t even have to leave my house and be exposed!). She’s awesome and is really set on finding an ACTUAL diagnosis for me and not just saying “we don’t know”. Had 9 vials taken from me in her first round of bloodwork, and then she said it looked like it could be Lupus and did more tests. She’s now pretty certain I DON’T have Lupus OR rheumatoid arthritis. I had an appointment with her at the very end of July (video, again), and it turns out she thinks I have something called sarcoidosis. This is going to require a CT scan, for my lungs and heart, to see if the disease is in them. Evidently with this particular auto-immune disease, your body overreacts and encapsulates what it thinks are dangerous foreign bodies (but really are just part of your own immune system) and creates “granulomas” around them. Basically think of an oyster creating a pearl around an invading body, except in this case instead of pearls, I have lumps of stuff that hurts me. Horrifying to know I have to walk into a hospital at this point in time, of my own free will. Like I said before, aside from one set of bloodwork, I haven’t been exposed or been out where I could be exposed at ALL. All that goes out the window once I walk into a hospital for a CT scan. :\ After the CT scan, depending on the results, there’s other tests I’ll need. Chest x-rays, EKGs, pulmonary function tests, lung biopsies (YIKES) and others. She seems fairly confident that this is the correct diagnosis for me, but wants confirmation and also to see progression of disease. At any rate, she’ll be changing my medication. Which sucks for so many reasons, not the least of which is I just picked up 360 tablets of it that I now won’t be taking. :| Also the fact that now I get to try a new medication and do the “am I having side effects or am I just anxious” song and dance. She’s also talking about needing to put me on steroids which I am REALLY unhappy about. I suppose it’s better to go on steroids than to die, but I’m still really unhappy about it. In other, related news, I’ve developed hypercalcemia. Which means there’s too much calcium in my blood, which can cause a HOST of other problems. So I’ve been put on a no-dairy, low calcium diet. Do you know how many items have calcium in them? Almost everything, that’s what. Also, they fortify all the non-dairy “milk” products with calcium. They all have as much or MORE calcium than dairy milk. It’s been a NIGHTMARE, to the point where I’m actually afraid of food now. I’m obsessively reading labels and doing research online. “How much calcium is in 81 grams of kiwi, after all?”. Nightmare. Dairy was my #1 love and foodgroup, and having to suddenly figure out all new things to eat and ways to cook while simultaneously being in pain and *exhausted* 24/7 because auto-immune is not. fun. at. all. It’s already all my energy every day to help make, eat, and clean up a meal. I literally have to sit in my chair after a meal with my feet elevated to recover. Now having to spend all this energy on a whole new diet plan is a nightmare. Basically this whole thing has been a MESS. It’s been 15 months, I’ve been being treated for the wrong disease for 14 months, the news I’m getting now is worse than the news that flattened my emotional response all those months ago, I still can’t function, and I can’t work. Oh, yeah. I haven’t played an instrument since May 2019. My whole life revolved around my music, and now I can’t even play to make myself feel better, because my hands don’t work. I’ve also been out of work since then, too: my last concert was April 2019. I haven’t made any money since. But I have had co-pays out the wazoo! Which reminds me that they raised the price on two of my meds, because of course they did. Thanks, congress. This has been really, really hard. My anxiety has skyrocketed through this, and my depression isn’t doing much better. Although physically I’m not as bad as I was, I’m nowhere near normal, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back to my normal again, either. The best I’m hoping for at this point is to be able to eat calcium again someday, to not have my organs eaten up by this disease, and to continue existing. It’s been exhausting. It really, really has. That’s not to mention the added stress and anxiety over Covid, and the fact that neither mom nor I can even go to a grocery store because of my high-risk status. We’re averaging getting groceries about once a month right now. It’s super fun now because I have to read the label on EVERYTHING but Aldi doesn’t post their nutrition labels online and!!! That means I have to either guess or not get things! Great! All this to say that I miss being on tumblr. I miss all my friends here. I miss talking to you all and being able to laugh with you and geek out. Things have been really hard for me (and there are multitudes I haven’t included in here; even if my hands would allow that much typing, I’d probably hit a character limit. Just: I miss you all. I love you. I’ve been a wreck, but I think of you all often. <3
#health stuff#diagnosis#health talk#medication talk#eating talk#uhhhh what else#needles talk#blood talk#disability talk#I'M A MESS Y'ALL#i love you and miss you#ponderings and musings#asa health stuff
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Firsts
Summary: No one ever told him that living was going to be so difficult. That there would emotions get couldn’t label and distinguish. He’s just a young boy trying to navigate through life and its unexpected ups and downs.
Genre: Humor, Fluff, smut(?)
Pairings: Oc x Felix, Oc x Changbin, Changbin x Oc x Felix
Warnings: poly relationship, angst in some part, excessive fighting about the MCU.
Parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17
A/N: This story has a theme of Firsts. First love, first kiss and many other firsts. Each part can be read on their own and are meant to stand as oneshots. It’s basically a collection of oneshots (little snapshots into my Oc’s life. 😁)
It was dark by the time the group had arrived at the fair. It had been Minho's idea to go, and Jisung's suggestion to go at night. Something about 'It's pretty at night time with all the lights on.' And Aiden honestly couldn't argue with that. Pulling into a parking spot, he marveled at the large fair to his right, lights flashing and spinning brightly on every ride that was operational. The Ferris Wheel was, of course, the most beautiful ride out of them all. It's lights flashed and spun, blinking steadily before moving in a wave of beautiful greens, blues, and purples. The highlight of the event and the ride that Aiden wanted to go on the most. Mostly because he just absolutely loved being high in the air and staring out at the city of Seoul.
"Finally! My legs were getting cramped." Woojin whined as he opened the passenger door and got out.
"Listen! It's not my fault you all picked me up late!" Hyunjin pouted as he opened the back door of the car, getting out first. Aiden followed behind him, Jisung crawling out last while Chan rounded the front of the car from the driver's side.
"It's your fault for having such long legs." Woojin pouted, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips. Hyunjin could only roll his eyes at the other, sticking out his tongue before slinging his arm around Aiden's shoulder.
"Well next time I should ride shotgun then, hyung." A simple shrug of the shoulders had Woojin snorting and Jisung laughing, the older male latching onto Hyunjin's arm, tugging him towards the ticket booths.
"Where are the others?" Aiden asked, eyes scanning the large crowd of people that were entering and exiting the fair, searching for any familiar looking heads. "Weren't they going to meet us here?"
"Oh well you know Minho." Chan laughed lightly. "He probably got sidetracked by something."
"I wouldn't be surprised. I'm amazed he even manages to get to school everyday." Hyunjin snickered.
"If that ain't the truth. I remember two weeks ago I texted him ten minutes before the bell rang, asking where he was. I've never seen a more disheveled look in my entire life. I still don't know how he got out of bed, dressed and to school in ten minutes." Aiden recounted with a light smile. "That hyung." he tsked to himself, earning laughs from the other four.
"Which hyung?" Aiden jumped at the voice, whirling around to lock with Minho, brow raised in interest.
"Oh, you know...that one hyung..." Aiden trailed off, trying to save his ass and failing miserably. "You know what, the last one to the ticket booth buys for everyone!" he shouted and turned, darting off to the nearest ticket booth. Footsteps echoed behind him and he turned, staring at Hyunjin and Jisung, behind them was Felix, Changbin, Seungmin, and Minho. He was a bit nervous for Minho to be there, but he hoped the other would drop the previous subject in exchange for getting either Chan or Woojin to pay for their tickets. After all, they were the oldest in their group of friends.
“Nine please.” Hyunjin ordered, flashing a smile to the ticket woman who was eyeing each and every one of them.
“Any adults?” She asked. Nodding, Hyunjin turned and pointed to Chan and Woojin as they finally approach, eyeing him before looking to the woman.
“Two adults and seven kids.” Despite the tickets only being for adults and children, the group still groaned at being referred to as kids. It wasn’t their fault they weren’t of age yet.
Woojin paid only after Chan batted his eyes at him. A pretty quick fight that led to Hyunjin and Seungmin giggling like little kids before snatching their tickets from Woojin’s grasp and heading inside.
“Alright, split up and meet back together in an hour?” Minho asked, arm sneaking its way around Jisung’s waist, pulling a flush from the other male.
“Sounds good! Don’t get lost, check your phones regularly.“
“Yes dad,” Felix grunted as Chan rattled off instructions. His eyes moved from the older man who was now whining about not being taken seriously and moved over to stare at Aiden, the other boy humming softly and playing with his ticket.
“Alright, be off you little hellions!” Chan waves his hand and Minho practically dragged Jisung through the gates of the fair, their squirrelly friend stumbling to keep up after the older male.
Aiden was much more calm about his arrival into the fair, handing his ticket to the ticket bearer before slipping through the gates. His eyes scanned the various food stalls in front of him, debating if he wanted to eat first or if he wanted to follow the high pitched screams of the patrons on the various rides.
“What are you doing first?” Aiden jumped at Felix’s voice, hand resting over his heart. Honestly, he needed new friends. The ones he currently had were hell-bent on giving him a heart attack for some reason. Grumbling about silent ninjas and needing collars with bells, Aiden lifted his gaze to meet Felix - suppressing the urge to run away for the simple fact that he hadn’t been alone with Felix or Changbin for a few months now. Not since the breakup. And while he liked to think he had gotten over Felix and forgave Changbin, seeing the two always felt like they were just ripping off the scabs of his slowly healing heart and making it bleed all over again.
“Oh, um I was debating if I wanted to eat first or go on rides.” He said, averting his gaze from the other.
“Always the hungry one.” Changbin teased lightly as he saddled up next to Felix. Yet, despite the teasing tone, there was an air of tension surrounding them and Aiden knew it was his fault. They were trying to make up with him, to get their friendship back to where it had been. But it was hard. How in the world was he supposed to act normal around them after finding out that they had started seeing each other when he had been away in Scotland. It was such a horrible betrayal, a self-esteem wrecker and that was saying a lot because Aiden didn’t have that much self-esteem to begin with.
“Probably better to ride first and then eat. Otherwise, you’ll just end up puking and that would be no bueno.”Felix laughed and Aiden nodded, a shy chuckle leaving him.
“Guess you’re right. So I’m gonna go find some rides to ride then.” Aiden mused.
“Cool, wanna go together?” Changbin offered, eyes intense as their gazed locked. Aiden could feel Changbin peering into his soul and he felt so vulnerable. “Like old times.”
“Old times.” Aiden repeated, head nodding slightly. “Um, sure. If you don’t mind me third-wheeling.” He agreed so easily, shrugging it off like it was no big deal but it was. This was a huge deal and Aiden wasn’t really sure if he was ready for this kind of scenario. Though if things went south, he could always run away and then just text one of the others to meet up with them.
“Awesome!” Felix’s eyes sparkled as his face lit up. Reaching out, he took Aiden’s hand and pulled him forward. “Let’s do the Himalayan ride! It’s the best!” He said and Aiden whined.
“Wait, is that the one that crushes the person sitting on the left side?” He asked worriedly.
———
It was indeed the one that squished the person on the left side. And Aiden felt extremely horrible for all the pain and torture he knew Changbin was going through as they went around in a circle, music blaring loudly and practically drowning out their screams. Aiden did his best to keep himself from sliding further to the left as they spun, but gravity (and Felix) made it near impossible for him to not press hard against Changbin’s side.
As the ride finally came to a halt, Aiden was trying to scoot away but Felix was still plastered to his body and was making no effort to move. “Binnie, are you alright?” The nickname rolled off his tongue like second nature and it sparked an emotion deep within his chest that he hadn’t felt in such a long time. A warmth blooming slowly as he stared at Changbin, the other nodded his head slowly as he tried to gather his bearings.
“I’m fine.” He answered after a moment of silence. He flashed Aiden a small smile for added reassurance and Aiden felt his heart flutter, which was something it had never done before. Except for maybe that one time over the summer. The latch to their door was unhooked by the ride attendant who was making his rounds. Door swinging open, Felix crawled out before yanking Aiden out with him.
“Come on! We have to ride Hydro Shock!” Felix shouted as he sprinted towards the exit of the ride, leaving Aiden to steady his legs and wait for Changbin to crawl out of the cart.
“How do you keep up with him?” Aiden asked breathlessly.
“I could ask the same for you. Was he always this hyper?” Changbin asked and Aiden laughed.
“No. I bet Jisung snuck him sugar earlier.” Aiden theorized and Changbin snorted.
“Wouldn’t be surprised.” He shrugged and sighed. “Alright, let’s hurry before he gets himself in trouble.” Nodding, Aiden followed Changbin out of the ride and onto the grassy field, heading in the direction they had seen Felix disappear in. It didn’t take them long to find him either, the hyperactive teen was waiting only a few feet away from them and eagerly grabbed their hands when in reach and dragged them to the most ominous looking ride ever.
Hydroshock was a pendulum-type ride, the arm attached to an A-frame of flashing lights of purple and blue. The arm it’s self extended to the ground and branched off into six separate arms, each hosting a row of four seats shining bright green.
“This is death.” Changbin gulped and Felix laughed.
“This is going to be fun!”
“This is how we die!” Changbin whined, being overly dramatic and Aiden couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh come on Binnie. I don’t remember you being such a baby.” He teased, taking a step closer to Felix to show he was siding with the other.
“I am a man!”
“Oh yeah? Prove it. Ride the ride with us.” Aiden challenge, eyes hard as he took in Changbin’s reaction. The confidence on Changbin’s face wavered for a moment before setting and he puffed out his chest.
“Alright! Let’s go then!”
“Yay!” Felix cheered happily and ran to get their place in line.
———
"Jesus, what happened to you two?" Minho asked as the group finally met back up near the food stalls. Their eyes were locked on the very pale and shaking Aiden and Changbin. "Looks like you two died or something." he commented.
"We did." Aiden groaned as he leaned against Changbin, stomach still doing flips from the last ride they had gone on - the pirate ship. Aiden was used to the pirate ships that just swung back and forth, going high and fast. He should have known it was a different kind of ride when the ship had actual harnesses to keep them in place. The first time it went up and almost completely upside down he had screamed so hard, begging for his mother. It was also the moment he promised to never let Felix pick the rides for them to go on, ever again.
"Oh, it wasn't that bad!" Felix laughed happily as he moved to the others and hummed. "So what are we eating? I'm famished." The smile he had could light up the entire area and it was killing Aiden. How could he be so happy after riding that death trap? Truly, never again would he trust Felix.
"Pirate ship?" Jisung asked as he moved over to the two and they nodded.
"Damn, I'm sorry guys." he laughed and patted Aiden's back gently. "Hey, they have some games that look pretty cool. After eat, wanna play with me?" Aiden's eyes lit up at the mention of games and he nodded his head quickly.
"Hell yeah! I gotta redeem myself after you cheated so badly at Mario Kart the other day."
"I didn't cheat!" Jisung gasped out, face scrunched up as he stared at the other.
"How dare you even think that. It's not my fault you suck at the game."
"I don't suck! I-"
"He swallows." Changbin commented, eyes wide and innocent, yet the smirk playing on his lips broke any illusion of innocence that Changbin was trying to go for.
"You- I do not swallow!" Aiden shouted, pulling stares not just from the others, but from people passing by. His cheeks flared with heat as he glared at Changbin, the older male cackling loudly. "Keep laughing, I hope you choke." he grunted and stomped away. He made his way down the row of stalls, glancing at each one that offered food in hopes it would ease the anger he was currently feeling. He stopped at a stall that was selling hot dogs and corn dogs and Aiden was truly thinking about buying at least five to eat away his emotions when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he stared into the worried eyes of Seungmin.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently. Turning away, he sighed softly and nodded his head. A beat passed and he was shaking his head. "Thought so." Seungmin mused. "I don't think it was a good idea for you to spend time with Changbin and Felix after what happened."
"Don’t you think I know that?" Aiden asked and pouted. "But you all ran off and left me alone with them."
"You didn't have to go with them."
"But they asked."
"Yeah, and if they asked, would you jump off a cliff?"
Aiden frowned and crossed his arms. "Well no, because I'm not an idiot." he said. "But that is different than blowing off your friends."
"Oh, so they're your friends now?" Seungmin asked shocked. "What happened to never wanting to speak to them again? How could they do that to you? And all that other stuff you cried to me and Minho about?" he asked, Aiden's shoulders sagging with each word that Seungmin spoke because it was true. He had said all that and more, but at the time he had been so heartbroken. So heartbroken that he had lost someone he really liked to his best friend and that it just seemed to validate all his insecurities that he just wasn't good enough. Too inexperienced and too shy to do most of the things Felix wanted to do. It only made sense to him that Felix found someone else, but that didn't ease the pain any less.
"It's complicated." he whispered, eyes closing for a moment to try and stop the tears from falling. Seungmin's hand gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, a sigh leaving him.
"You still love him, don't you?"
"Why wasn't I enough?" Aiden answered in return. "Why am I just so stupid? So shy and just..." he trailed off and took a deep breath. Reaching up, he rubbed his temple gently and shook his head. "They're being so kind to me and trying to make everything like it used to be and I like it." he confessed. "But I can't help but feel the hurt still. After all this time, they're just now-"
"No." Seungmin interrupted. "After all this time, you're finally noticing." he said. "They've been trying so hard to make up with you, we all can see it. But you kept running away and refusing to acknowledge them. And that's not a bad thing. I probably would have done the same thing if I was in your shoes."
"You would have killed them and got Minho to bury the bodies with you." Aiden teased, laughing lightly as Seungmin smiled.
"Okay, you got me there. But I'm telling you this entire time, they have been trying to make things right with you. So don't blame them for you noticing now. But be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt again."
Aiden's eyes lifted, meeting Seungmin's gaze and the worry that was etched so clearly in his beautiful brown orbs. "I'll try. I can't promise anything because we all know I'm a damn idiot." he said, cracking a small smile. "I want to be friends with them again. I miss my best friend." Seungmin nodded and nudged Aiden a bit with his shoulder as he flashed Aiden a reassuring smile.
"Everything will be okay. Now, what are we eating?" Seungmin asked and looked around at the stalls around them.
"Fifteen hot dogs." Aiden ordered, smiling at the man that had been privy to their whole conversation and was so kind enough to not make them move away and serve other customers.
"Fifteen?!"
"Listen, I'm hungry and nearly died twice on rides. I'm going to gorge on hot dogs okay? Try and stop me, I dare you." Aiden laughed and Seungmin shook his head.
"Make it twenty!" Aiden cheered at the order, adding drinks for them and standing off to the side while their order was filled.
———
Aiden grinned as he won at the clown water game, his balloon bursting just seconds before Jisung’s. “Yes! Redemption!” He shouted as the game announcer walked over and gave him the option of the small plushies hanging above their heads. He stared at each one, musing over which to get before finally picking the Pikachu plushie.
“You got lucky!” Jisung pouted, making Aiden laugh as he smacked Jisung’s shoulder with the toy.
“That’s right! Great game though.”
“It was so fun.” Jisung agreed as he wrapped his arm around Aiden’s waist and left the booth with him, humming to the random tunes that were being blasted at them from various games, rides and the general music of the fair. “So what’s next on our list?”
“I don’t know. Any game where the prize isn’t a fish though.” Aiden said as they walked past a duck fishing game, colorful fish swimming in small bowls as the prize for winners. “We could do the haunted house ride or the mirror funhouse?”
“No and no. I hate scary things and I get vertigo easily.” Jisung whined and pouted. Aiden sighed and shook his head, resting it on Jisung’s shoulder as they walked. “Hey! There’s Felix and BinBin! Let's go bug them.” Aiden gave a light hum in acknowledgment, following Jisung over to the two.
“Whoa.” He gasped as he stared at the large bear in Changbin’s arms. It was almost the same size as him. “How did you get that?”
“Felix played seven games.” Changbin said as he grabbed the bear arm and made it wave. “Hi, Aiden and Sungie. My name is Momo.” Changbin spoke in an exceptionally high voice that had Aiden laughing.
“Momo? From Twice?” Jisung asked as he mimicked a few moves from one of the songs.
“That fact you know how to do the dance is scary.” Aiden snickered and hummed, patting the bear on the head. “Good luck to you Momo. Maybe you’ll survive, maybe you won’t, living with this fool.” He teased and Changbin pouted, hitting Aiden with the bear arm.
“So rude! Binnie wouldn’t ever hurt me!”
Aiden laughed softly and shook his head. “Of course not.” He said and hummed softly. “What are you two up to now?” He asked.
“Oh, we were thinking of doing the Ferris Wheel and then seeing what the rest were up to. Kinda bored. We rode everything already.” Felix said as Changbin nodded.
“Oh sounds like a good idea! Let's all do the Ferris Wheel and then go home. I’ll text the group chat.” Jisung said as he removed his arm from Aiden and pulled out his phone. Aiden hummed as he watched Jisung, missing the way Felix and Changbin shared a look and looked at him.
“Okay!” Jisung announces. “They’ll meet us there. Let's go!” He said excitedly and took Aiden’s hand, dragging the boy away with a laugh.
Making their way to the Ferris Wheel took all of three minutes, the others standing by the entrance waiting for them when they arrived.
“Alright, how should we do this?” Chan asked as he looked at everyone. “If we do pairs, someone will be riding alone.”
“I don’t mind riding alone.” Aiden said with a smile. “So you guys pair up.”
“Are you sure?” Jisung asked and raised a brow. “You could ride with me and Minho.”
“When did I agree to be your buddy?” Minho snorted and Jisung rolled his eyes.
“Like you wouldn’t be.” He threw back and Minho shrugged.
“You’re not wrong.”
“It’s okay guys. I’ll be fine on my own. I’m a big boy now!”
“Holy shit! And we missed it?! I bought you big boy panties and everything!” Hyunjin laughed, Aiden pouting and pushing the other as he doubled over with laughter, the others following.
“Rude! I need new friends!” Aiden pouted as he moved to stand in line.
“You know you love us.” Woojin commented with a smile.
“Yeah yeah yeah.” Aiden mumbled, head tilted up as he watched the Ferris Wheel spun slowly, letting off people one compartment at a time and loading up with new passengers.
“How many?” The ride attendant asked, looking to Aiden.
“On-“
“Three.” Changbin’s voice startled him and he looked back at him in shock. “We’re not gonna let you ride alone.” He said with a shrug.
“Alright, get on.” The attendant opened the gate, motioning to the waiting car. Aiden hummed and stepped through, walking up onto the platform and over to the car, climbing in. Changbin entered behind him and Felix brought up the rear. The door closed and locked behind them and the ride moved slowly so the next car was brought down closer
“You really didn’t have to do this.” Aiden said as he sat opposite of the couple, eyes moving between the two before glancing out the car window.
“We wanted to.” Felix said as he shifted and placed the large bear next to Aiden and smiled. “You don’t mind, do you?” He asked.
“No! I just figured that you guys would want, you know, time alone.” His voice tapered off into a whisper as he drew his lower lip between his teeth.
“Why would we want that when we could spend time with you?” Changbin asked and Aiden snorted, rolling his eyes.
“Oh please, like why would you want to spend time with me?” He asked as he slouched back against his seat, arms crossed. “We all know I’m not worth that much.”
“Aiden...” Changbin said sadly.
“You do know that’s not true right?” Felix asked brows creased together tightly.
“It’s not? Really? Because it used to be you and me and now it’s you and him.” Aiden waved his hand at the two. “So tell me where the lie is.”
“The lie is that whole statement.” Felix grunted, hands clutching at his pant legs. “You never let us actually talk to you about what happened.”
“What is there to talk about? I left, you two got together and then we broke up over text.” Aiden said. “Seems pretty cut and dry.” He said as he turned to look out the window, watching as the city skyline slowly came into view as the last of the cars were loaded on the wheel.
“It’s not and if you would just shut up and listen to us -“
“I don’t have to do anything.” Aiden cut Felix off, never bothering to look back at them. Silence fell over them then, no one daring to say anything as the Ferris Wheel finally began and their cart was slowly brought back down and began the cycle back up.
After what felt like an eternity, Changbin finally broke the silence. “We want to date you.” Aiden’s head whipped around and he frowned, staring at the boy he had once called his best friend.
“What?”
“We want to date you, Aiden.” He repeated. Aiden stared at him, struggling to process exactly what he just heard. How could Changbin just say that? And so carelessly too?
“Is this some sort of sick joke?”
“No, it’s not. And if you had just given us the chance to explain everything to you before, you would have understood what happened.” Changbin told him. Aiden lowered his eyes and he sighed softly before nodding.
“Okay then. Explain.” He said, lifting his gaze to meet theirs.
“I loved you.” Felix started. “I still love you. What we had was special and I enjoyed every moment of it. But I also enjoyed my time with Changbin too. He makes me feel the same way you do. There’s a difference between you two, but I know what I feel is the same.” Felix explained.
“How? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know.” Felix said honestly, lifting a hand to run through his hair. “But you both can smile and my heart will flutter. And when you laugh I just find myself melting. When you left, I thought it would be a good time to confront Changbin about it. I figured if things went south, at least you weren’t there and caught in the middle of it.” He said. “I didn’t want you to have to choose between us.”
“Okay, so then obviously Changbin returned your feelings.” Aiden said with a raised brow.
“I did.” Changbin hummed and smiled. “And then I told him how I felt about you. And all the times we shared together.”
“Wait, you told him about that one time in your room?” Aiden asked.
“And that one time in your backyard. And all the times you called me to tell me about your fucking dreams.” Changbin laughed and Felix snickered.
“Never knew you thought about me like that though.” Felix commented. Aiden groaned and covered his face, turning his body away to try and hide from their eyes - not that it was working.
“I can’t believe this.” He whined.
Changbin laughed as he stood and scooted himself over to the other bench, taking a seat next to Aiden. Reaching out, he grabbed Aiden’s wrist and pulled them from his face, their eyes locking for an intense second before Aiden looked away. “That whole day was a mess Aiden.” He said gently.
“Which day?”
“That day.” Changbin said pointedly. “Felix and I were trying to figure out what exactly we were going to do and how to tell you we wanted a threesome relationship. You already seemed off and everything I said just made it worse.” He whispered. “We tried to come over when you got back home and you wouldn’t let us see you.”
“I’m sorry.” Aiden whispered as he pulled his hands away from Changbin and scooted further away from him, knees rising to his chest as he wrapped his arms around his legs - trying his damned hardest to make himself as tiny as possible.
“Don’t be.” Changbin’s face softened as he reached out slowly and stroked his cheek gently. “I understand but I just wish we could have talked earlier. I never would have taken Felix from you. I care too much about you both.”
“Binnie~” Aiden whined. “Don’t say that. You’re making me feel worse.”
“I’m sorry. But Aiden I just need you to understand this. It was never about cheating, or you not being enough. You were always enough. More than enough that you had two people wanting you. We still want you, if you want us.”
Aiden looked between Changbin and Felix, his heart racing within his chest so fast he thought it would burst. This wasn’t what he had imagined when he agreed to go to the fair and this explanation was certainly not what he imagined it to be. That he was the one to essentially drive them both away when all they wanted was for them to come together as three. Three people in love. And while Aiden honestly wasn’t sure what he felt for either Felix or Changbin was love, he knew they were important to him and always had been.
They held so many precious memories together and important, intimate moments that Aiden could never get back. He could never get back his first kiss from Felix. And he couldn’t get back his first handjob from Changbin. But he didn’t want them back because he didn’t regret them. They were memories he cherished and secretly he had wanted more, even through this sad and depressing time.
And now here it was, presented to him. He just had to take it.
“I-I don’t know. What if I’m not -“
“Don’t even finish that sentence.” Felix huffed as he shifted over to Aiden, squeezing himself between the wall and the boy. “You are enough. And you don’t need to be experienced in anything. Life isn’t about going into things experienced.”
“Well for the most part.” Changbin muttered.
“It’s about living and experiencing as things happen. Everyone goes in blind and they learn over time.” Felix said. “We’re all still learning. So let’s learn together, as boyfriends.” He offered, and as Aiden looked at him he could see the hope shining within Felix’s eyes. And the same warmth that had filled him the first time he had laid eyes on Felix filled him again.
“I...please.”
“Please what, Aiden?” Felix asked, cocking his head. Aiden whined softly, reaching out lightly to grab at the front of Felix’s shirt.
“I want that, please.”
Smiling lightly, Felix nodded as he leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Centimeters away, Felix’s breath ghosted over Aiden’s lips and he wanted nothing more than to feel those soft lips against his once again. “Can I kiss you?”
Nodding shyly, Aiden looked up into Felix’s eyes before letting his eyes fall close. Felix brought their lips together in a tender kiss and Aiden sighed happily, tension melting from his body. It had been so long since he had last kissed Felix and he had missed it so much. Felix brought his hand up to cup Aiden’s cheek, tilting his head up slightly as he deepened the kiss ever so slightly.
Breaking the kiss moments later, Aiden found himself opening his eyes and looking over to Changbin. It was difficult to judge his reaction - Changbin was very good at hiding his emotions when he wanted to. But the hard, stern expression faded and was replaced by a gentle smile when he realized the two were looking at him.
“This is gonna be weird.” Aiden said gently.
“Why?” Changbin asked.
“Because you’re my best friend. It’s gonna be weird kissing you.”
“I jacked your dick, how much weirder could it get?” Changbin retired and laughed.
“You’d be surprised.” Aiden shrugged, bitting at his bottom lip.
“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to be surprised.” Changbin said as he moved closer, leaning over Aiden slightly. Aiden could feel his cheeks flushing as his heart skipped a few beats. The closeness brought back the memories of all the intimate times he had with Changbin and the countless times he had told himself to never think of Changbin as anything but his friend. And now here they were, about to kiss. A dream come true.
Unlike Felix who was gentle and tender, when Changbin claimed his lips, it was rough and Aiden found himself released a harsh breath through his nose as he returned the kiss. Their lips moved, sliding together as Changbin tried to deepen the kiss. Yet Aiden pulled away before he could, a shy smile gracing his lips. “What’s wrong?” Changbin asked curiously.
“Nothing.” Aiden said quickly. “But um, I don’t think this is the best place to express our love, yeah?” He asked.
“Aw, and here I was hoping you had an exhibition kink.” Changbin pouted, laughing soon after as Aiden smacked his chest a few times. “Okay okay!” He said as he pulled back and sat up straight.
“Hey!” Felix said suddenly, grabbing Aiden’s attention as the other turned to him. “We’re at the top! Look!” He said and pointed to the window. Shifting on the bench, Aiden leaned over and looked out the window, smiling at the beautiful cityscape presented to them.
“It’s so beautiful.” He whispered, admiring the view bestowed upon them.
“Yeah.” Changbin whispered as he wrapped his arms around Aiden’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. “But not as beautiful as you.”
“Oh my god! Stop, you're so cheesy!” Aiden laughed and leaned back against the other, humming. “I love being at the top of the Ferris Wheel. It’s so pretty.” Felix nodded in agreement as he leaned back against Aiden’s side and sighed, resting his head on Aiden’s shoulder.
“Definitely the best ride here.” He said.
“Yeah, and the best way to end the night.” Aiden agreed, whining softly as the wheel started to move once more, lowering them back down.
“What do we tell the others?” Aiden asked suddenly.
“What do you mean?” Changbin asked confused.
“Oh come on. You know I told the others what happened. What do we tell them, about us? Because it would take fifteen years to give them the same explanation you gave me.”
“True. I don’t know.”
“I say we tell them when we have to. Or if they ask. Otherwise, let’s just let them be.” Felix suggested. Changbin nodded in agreement and Aiden hummed. “If you think that’s best, then let’s do that.” Aiden nodded. “What are you guys doing after this?” He asked curiously.
“Going home. Wanna join?”
Aiden took a moment to think it over before nodding. “Sure! Whose house?“ “Felix’s.”
“Perfect! We can continue the MCU marathon. Legend has it, if we get to Black Panther, we get to have sex.” Aiden smirked teasingly at Changbin’s raised brow.
“Really now?” He asked and Aiden nodded.
“Okay then. Let’s get our marathon on then.”
#stray kids#skz#fanfic#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#stray kids au#skz au#stray kids fanfic au#skz fanfic au#au story#the firsts#humor#fluff#felix#changbin#changbin x oc#felix x oc#changbin x oc x felix
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Into the Darkness and Unknown: Ch 9. Into the Enlightened Light
Malik took his helmet off, setting it down on his porch. With no word of warning, he took a few moments to prepare himself mentally. Finally, he opened the door to his house.
As soon as Malik stepped through the doors, Asa pulled him directly through the hallway with her magic into the living area, almost nose to nose with her. She had the darkest scowl on her face. With gritted teeth, the Kovina said angrily, "Give me one good reason why I ought to not kick your ass."
Malik looked down at his wife, feeling the fury radiated off her flow through his being. Every hair on his body stood up and he didn’t have an answer until he saw his son put down a toy and waddle to his father. “Daddy!”
Little Revan didn’t even realize his mother had Malik in her magical grip, simply reaching up to receive a hug from his father. Malik couldn’t quite give his boy what he wanted yet due to his armour being locked. “Because it would frighten our son?”
"... you're lucky he's awake and was too stubborn for a nap." Asakonigei released her husband so he could pay attention to their son. "This isn't over."
“I know.” Malik knelt down to pick his son up, hugging him deeply. “I missed you all dearly.”
“I missed you too papa. Where were you?”
“I was held up by enemies my dear boy. They kept me from sending word to you. Did you look after your mother and sister in my absence?”
“I did! Did you fight bad guys?”
“I did.”
“Mommy says you were in a land of monsters. Were they the bad guys?”
Malik shook his head, loving every moment of ruffling his son’s hair. “No, my dear boy. They were actually my allies.”
Donoma, however, did agree to nap time. She was a newborn and still slept soundly. Asakonigei did have to remind Revan constantly to be gentle. He was impatient, and wanted his baby sister to grow faster so the two of them could play together and spar. It was pretty cute to see him pout when Asakonigei told him he would have to wait a long while. Still fuming, the Kovina was not going to let Malik get off so easily. Though firstly, she had to get Malik alone.
"... Revan, will you go check on Donoma for me? Make sure she hasn't kicked off her blanket?"
“But I want to be with Papa.” Revan frowned at his mother, not understanding her reasoning. He only just got back and she wanted them separated?
“It’s ok my son. Go look after your sister. I’ll cook you dinner and play with you later.”
“Ok papa.”
Malik set Revan down, the little boy running off to valiantly guard his sister. Once he heard the door close, Malik pointed to the couch. “Wine before we talk?”
"No, I'm still breastfeeding. I cannot drink." Asakonigei put her hands on her hips. "No word. No indication that you were alive. Nothing for a whole month, Malik. What. The. Fucking. Hell."
Malik carefully set down letter after letter after letter he wrote to his family on the table from his travellers’ pouch. “I tried Asa. But the situation in Omisha grew dangerous. There was to be no communication sent in case it would be intercepted.”
"You could have still found a way, even if it wasn't a letter! What about all the spells I've taught you? Was there no water for a enchanted mirror? Nothing?!"
“It was forbidden. And given that the princess and I were attacked by a wizard of Teufel, I did not want them finding that you were by yourself.” Malik looked at her, sad, tired, and worried.
"... I'm still mad at you." Asakonigei crossed her arms and looked away from her husband, trying to hold back tears. She really was worried for him.
“Yet you know I am correct.” Malik gently took one of her hands, using his eyes to ask her to look at him. “My work was important for the kingdom to create an alliance... yet there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t long to return to you or the children. I feared constantly of an additional attack. Every day without a way back to you, or letting you know I was alive and well tore me up inside. I love you Asa. I’m sorry for making you worry.”
"... don't do it again." Asakonigei told him firmly and wiped at a couple of tears. "I don't like having to explain to Revan that I don't know when you'll be back... or spirits forbid, if you're coming back at all one day."
“It’s the grim reality of our world Asa... one I hope to have the power to change.” He held her chin gently to look her gaze up at him, the other hand round her waste. “Know I will never leave you.”
"If you do, I'll find you and kick your ass. You'll wish that death was an option." Askaonigei then pulled him into a tight embrace and huffed. "Take off the stupid armor already and hug me. I missed you."
Malik stripped down to clothing, immediately picking up his wife in a warm encasing hug, followed by a deep kiss. “Those monsters you feared weren’t so bad you know.”
"Well, of course you think that, you've fought dragons. And dragons are much, much worse than any monster out there." Asakonigei still had that teasing habit as her husband continued to kiss her... down her neck... onto her shoulder. "If you want that then you're going to have to convince Revan to take a nap."
“The question is, do you want it?”
"Hm... well... you have been a bad boy..." Asakonigei hinted at the type of intercourse. "It's been a long while... that and you've made your wife very lonely. You need to be punished."
“Daddy! When are we going to play!” Revan suddenly ran out, jumping between his mother and father. Seems like a lover’s intimacy would need to wait.
“Doesn’t your sister need you?”
“No. She’s asleep as a dragon.”
"Later." Asakonigei whispered to her husband. "Why don't you show your Daddy the new outfit Queen Zarazu got for you?"
Revan scampered off to his room and then a few moments later returned with a... dragon themed pajama onesie. Blue in color. Like Ba'puu.
"Like it?" Revan asked, having no idea of the tension between Ba'puu and his father. "Queen Zarazu told me that you would."
Malik looked down, narrowed eyes and dropped mouth that Asakonigei knew he loathed a little, but his son did not. “It looks good on you my boy.” His father scooped Revan up and placed him on his lap. “My little dragon warrior. Want to see what the monsters of Omisha think of your old man?”
“I do!”
Truth was, Malik himself wondered what they thought of him. Grabbing the journal Mother gave him, the Gerudo Lord opened it up to see what her people’s thoughts were of him, careful to sensor any potential swearing from Revan.
'Humans are weird creatures, and you are no exception. What is normal for us, is not exactly normal for you. Yet, in the short time you've been here, you've proven to be trustworthy, stubborn, and loyal. You trusted me to keep you safe and the children underneath my power. You were most stubborn in your negotiations, which I do respect, wanting the best for your kingdom. Lastly, your Lorleidian queen is very fortunate to have a friend and soldier in you. Yet, I warn you against the desire for power, young one. Your cousin had the blood of Demise running through his veins, and you are related to him. Do not lust after conquest or lest, you might meet your end and risk losing everything. Seek the daughter of the Lorleidian queen, young lord. You must train her to become the next queen and to prepare for a war. Remember the prophecy lullaby, and the words of our friend Modoc:
Darkness and shadow bring nothing but dread, two can keep a secret if one is dead. –
“You see? Nothing to concern yourself with Asa.”
"Nothing to worry? When you say that, there's always something to worry about." Asakonigei then pointed to the last sentence. "And secret? What does this mean?"
“Strong allies can keep any secret with each other. I believe it’s a symbol of trust.”
“That’s so cool daddy!”
“I know my boy. Now, how about I start cooking you both a meal, eh?” Didn’t matter what dangers might come in the future. Malik knew that he had at least one more powerful ally in his corner.
~
Leere walked the castle halls with her daughter in hand. She was still a little thing, only eight years of age. “Joy. Are you alright being looked after by your cousins? Your mother needs to wait and discuss some business with your uncle Ralnor and an old friend.”
“Is Skyla at the castle?”
“Perhaps. I’m sure Luimaya would love to let you know. Now run along dear.”
With great speed, Joy pranced off to find family to play with. Leere smiled fondly as she entered Ralnor’s office, waiting for him and Bonegrinder to arrive and discuss issues regarding Omisha. She had a habit of rubbing the shadow medallion around her neck when she was alone killing time. Didn’t surprise her they’d be late. “Men...”
Taking out an old binder, Leere read the old letters of Mother and Solani that were given to her so many years ago upon her first visit into a land of darkness and unknown.
'Seeing that you're the first human I ever met, I have so many questions for you, like, why don't humans have feathers? Do you really have these 'machines' made of metal that moves? What about magic, how did you obtain it? Why don't humans like monsters? Did you come from an egg like me? I think that's it for now. I miss you and hope you come back soon! ~Solani'
'Leere, I appreciate you being a friend to Modoc all this time. Stay by his side, for I know he will need you. Please make sure to take care of yourself and stay safe. There is much to come in the future. Lastly, do you have a curiosity about the mating rituals of my people? I can give you several books for references next time. ~Mother of the Monsters'
Leere had only seen Solani once or twice since then, able to answer most of her questions. The one about humans not liking monsters was still an answer she did not have a concrete solution to. She hoped that she was well, along with the rest of her family. Hopefully she could meet her little Joy soon.
It was like the shadows themselves whispered to Leere of Ralnor and Bonegrinder’s arrival before they physically appeared, one coming from the hallway, the other the tile of the rooftops. “Gentlemen. You are once again late. Predictably so at this rate.”
"It's his fault." Ralnor grumbled as he walked into his office, Bonegrinder coming through the ceiling. He still had the age old habit of pulling up the chandelier and squeezing through the hole to enter the room. Flopping down onto the couch, the Anagari had a bottle of wine from the cellar. Another trick of his that never died.
"He just wanted to make a pit stop for wine, there is nothing wrong with that, right, tiny princess?"
“You exhaust my time Bonegrinder. Lucky, your blatant disregard of it gives my daughter more time to spend with the rest of the family. Now Ralnor, we’re both getting old, so let us get started. My organization looks after the well being of Hyrule, selected by the goddesses for our loyalty to the holy land and our elemental mastery.” That last part Leere wasn’t fully devout, but felt obligated to say. “I myself the darkness and shadows of Hyrule. So, with that in mind, how is our allies of Omisha faring these days? Any news of when the next negotiations over there can take place?”
"Mother has informed us that the next negotiations are to take place on Saturday." Ralnor then gestured to Bonegrinder on the couch, drinking directly from the bottle. "He will be your escort, as always. Mother wishes to have more information on our trade with Uskar. To see if the land of the Direnors would be interested in trade with their..." He cleared his throat. "Distantly related cousins."
“Understood. I have a request, if it is safe to do so.”
"Of me or of Bonegrinder?"
“Both. I wish to bring my daughter to Omisha. She is a symbol of purity amongst humanity, untainted by the mindset of most humans. As my daughter she is very aware of monster kind, finding little to no fear from them. I believe she can be shown humans and echidnans can be friends on an even deeper level. Do you deem it safe?”
“A child has no place in---"
“We love children!" Bonegrinder flicked his tail. “Mother has many children, what is one more?"
"... you talk like she's going to adopt Joy."
"Might as well, that is why we all call her 'Mother'. She may not be our biological mother, but she is our protector, our nurturer, and our leader."
"Joy is not going to such a place of horrors!"
"You only call it that because we had to drag you there the first time."
"I. Was. In. My. Pajamas."
"At least you weren't naked."
Leere raised a brow at Ralnor. “A place of horrors? You mistaking Omisha for Malus brother?”
"Blondie is just sore over the fact that---"
"SHUT UP."
"Mother called him 'pretty' and Bonegrinder licked him once when drunk."
"... good goddesses, have mercy on me." Ralnor rubbed his achy temples.
Leere snapped her finger, rather aggressively to get them both back on topic. “Bonegrinder. Quit acting like a child. Ralnor, when’s the last time you’ve been to Omisha?”
"Bleh." Bonegrinder flicked his tongue at her. "He never acts like a child, he simply acts how he wishes, when he wishes. And he loves to tease Blondie."
"I went five months ago to meet with Mother alongside Bonegrinder." Ralnor informed his sister. "Why?"
“Then why a ‘land of horrors’? Surely you’d have more respect for the lives there.”
"... sister, you like the attention from the monsters. I don't. Do you know how many times I've had monsters approach me for sex?" Ralnor had a disgusted expression on his face. "I have no wish to be part of their 'experiments'."
"He saw Bonegrinder's dick once and fainted."
"I most certainly did not!"
“Shut. Your. Mouth.” The glare Leere gave Bonegrinder was piercing him with the force of a guillotine. “And I too have put off similar advances since being married. Honestly Ralnor, they are still a people. Try interacting with them like it, and perhaps they’ll treat you the same. Or be smart enough to pick your proper company.”
"I don't pick the company, the company picks me. Have you been paying attention?" Ralnor pointed to the Anagari. "I've tried to get rid of this one for years, but he keeps coming back."
"You love Bonegrinder, you know it."
"I don't!"
"See, tiny princess? Just trying to break an old snake's heart." Bonegrinder then suggested. "If you wish to take Joy to Omisha, Mother would be delighted to meet her. It has been a long while since they have see human children."
“Any other matters to discuss?” Leere felt she gathered the information she desired from the two.
"It's a bad idea."
"It's a good idea, Mother isn't going to eat her! She didn't eat you!"
"You're not making me feel any better about allowing my niece to go there."
"We will... keep her away from the most dangerous of my kind?"
"You are the most dangerous thing there next to Mother!"
"Aw, thank you!"
"That's not a compliment, you big oaf!"
"See, tiny princess? He loves him."
Leere stood up, tired of their company. “One final note. A dragon has been seen flying closer around the borders of Malus.”
"... well, that's not good." Bonegrinder set down the wine. "We need to alert the queen. It appears Luimaya's role is coming sooner than later."
"More of that prophecy?", Ralnor inquired.
"Unfortunately, yes."
Leere knew no immediate solution could be made at the moment. “My organization is concerned with such a prophecy coming to fruition. I’ll let the Queen know, and we should let Mother know of this building seed of destruction brewing.”
"You do understand, tiny princess, that once you are involved in this prophecy that there is no going back." Bonegrinder did think it was fair to give her a clear warning. "You will be at risk, though there is always the chance that loved ones may be targeted as well. You will have to give deep thought to what you value and what you wish to do. While your help would be an advantage, you must realize at some point in time, that your sunshine and your little bundle of happiness may not be safe here."
Leere’s hand rested on the doorknob, taking a breath to calm her nerves. “Bonegrinder... we are all in this fight. It is inevitable as shadow being cast from light. I value the lives of the innocent. And one must step forward and fight to protect those who can’t defend themselves. And given what we know about world ending prophecies, where exactly is truly safe? My family, Ralnor’s, yours, and everyone’s are always in the presence of looming danger. To fret over it constantly is foolish. We all can only do our best to be vigilant. Is that understandable enough for you?”
"He understands... he just wanted to make sure you did as well, tiny princess." Bonegrinder told Leere. "The prophecy is soon to be fulfilled with Luimaya on the throne. It is now just a matter of time."
“We can only hope that the darkness which creeps from the unknown won’t catch us by surprise. Now then gentlemen, I will see you both Saturday.” She politely shook their hands, thanked them for their time, and left. Very least, Omisha didn’t seem so secretive to her anymore. Hopefully her Joy could bring about more smiles among the monsters.
________________________________________________________________
Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/190959464556/into-the-darkness-and-unknown-ch-8-connection-to
Thank you for reading! Written with @ridersoftheapocalypse
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Berlin Sketches pt 1
by T. Frank
My grandmother cannot fathom entering Germany. She was a child of the Great Depression and lived through the war safely from the Catskill Mountains of New York while her husband fixed radios on home turf. However, Germany represents a taboo in history for my grandparents as Jews. They would no sooner visit the Brandenberg Gate than they would try scuba diving without an oxygen tank.
I constantly reflect on the trusted feeling of Home since I lived in Berlin for six weeks in fall of 2018. Previously, the longest trip I took was a ten-day tour of Israel through the organization Birthright: from the peak of a mountain overlooking three desert countries, to the crowded rush of the Jerusalem shuk, and my aversion to a display of American-Israeli nationalism on a military campus. The scenes and feelings form a whirlwind of hazy memories, much like any experience on new land.
A few days after I arrived back in the Bay Area, I sat in Strawberry Creek Park watching the sun go down and the light blue sky grow faint as night approached, seeking those moments of "awe" that came so suddenly in Berlin. This bright green park reminded me of the open recreational space I loved over there, even though the grass was literally greener on this side of the pond! I distinctly remember the moment when I scarcely had to look up at the street signs and felt like whichever path I took, I would find my way. Nevertheless, five months ago, I had sent in an application for an unusual art residency, an immersion into the study of grief. I reflected on those periods of my life that had led to some of my deepest creations. Drawings of cancer cells and lungs, struggles to breathe and heal in the midst of choking emotion, flowers and vines winding through the dark themes. I yearned to express my observations of the world through whatever moved me, again.
~~~~~
The journey to Berlin was a three-legged trip with two layovers, leaving Friday evening and arriving at 10:00PM on Saturday. A huge, crowded economy flight, cheap and minimal. I tried to rest as the crew turned off all lights on board. No sooner did I close my eyes than it seemed like the sun was creeping over the horizon, and we touched down to a windy, barren tarmac. It was 9:00AM, as all the passengers disembarked in Reykjavik, Iceland, we felt the chill burrowing through our thin layers and shivered.
On the second leg, as the plane glided to the lowlands, I appreciated the bucolic farmland. I was alone in the Copenhagen airport. The crowds in Reykjavik were more diverse, like a burgeoning metropolis. By contrast, everyone arriving in this Danish terminal looked alike: tall, blond, and, permit me, Aryan. They traveled in clusters of family groups, chatting, gesturing, smiling. I dragged my suitcase past designer boutiques to a desolate, unfinished terminal, where passengers awaited their flights without customary notice; but learned to say, Takk, Danish for "Thank you". When I finally reached Germany, I connected to the U-bahn, the underground subway. The ride was over an hour long, and I gazed at the subterranean signage, lost once more. Until I arrived at Rathaus Neukölln, and my new roommate Shimon met me outside in the rain.
The next day, I left the mattress that our hostess Amelia had set up on the floor, staggering about with jet lag. Luckily there's oatmeal, my favorite companion. Shimon and his friend Devorah from Tel Aviv are home. We discuss the neighborhood. ‘What if I get terribly lost, not only physically, but mentally, too?’ I thought. ‘Is this a dream? Why am I so far from anyplace I know?’ Devorah suggested a walk to the canal, with a Sunday flea market. Late afternoon, I ventured outdoors and discovered a slice of paradise.
At the end of the block, a large mosaic mural adorned a staircase which I took to have the impression of a rooftop. A large concrete lot surrounded a beautiful community garden. Raised flower beds were home to a bounty of colorful flowers, tall green vegetables grew under the sunshine and painted poles flanked handmade structures. I spotted a concrete ping-pong table, and mustered up the courage to join two men playing. One of them wore a baseball cap with "Cal" emblazoned in blue and yellow; by chance, he attended law school at UC Berkeley, and lived several blocks away from me! After a few rounds of ping-pong, the Germans drank beer and suggested that I check out a nearby landmark before sunset.
Cheered, I walked along and found an "I Love SF" sweatshirt at a pop-up flea market. More surprises awaited. I heard music, and pushed aside brambles to emerge in Hasenheide Park, where a large circle of guitarists and drummers jammed for casual onlookers. I saw an ornate mosque with blue and gold trim, a wide courtyard, and an outdoor faucet for washing hands or drinking cool, crisp water. Next door was Tempelhof Field. A former airport utilized during World War Two to fly-in supplies from the West, the unused tarmac was reinvented as an open recreational wonderland. I entered the gates and was met with flocks of activity: bicyclists, joggers, even a pair doing synchronized roller-skating. Dry, dull grass covered the fields, but a victory garden shined under the setting sun, and the barista of an on-site cafe recommended finding a good perch.
I joined two boys from Afghanistan, Hasan and Muhamed, watching the sky from tall ladder-seats. Muhamed and I grinned, struggling to hold a conversation between the lack of a common language. Google helped, but broken English got us farther. "Do you know there are still American police in my country?,” he exclaimed. My conscience bristling, I say that most people do not speak of the Afghan-American war anymore. The sun set in deep purple and vivid pink hues. Hasan saw my eyes light up at the sight of his bicycle, and offered me a ride--so, I sat sideways on the frame, clutching his black leather jacket, and answering "Ya" when asked, "Alles Gut?"until I grimaced from discomfort and Hasan laughed--"Kaput!" The two friends saw me off at a bus stop, and I stumbled on board as the passengers stared.
~~~~~
The following Monday, I walked twenty minutes from the apartment to arrive in front of a white-painted gallery, and no one around. Feeling nervous that the entire program was a hoax (just like my parents thought when they read the acceptance letter from the dubious-sounding organization), I noticed a middle-aged man at a computer in the corner. I knocked on the window, and he let me inside. Here was a room devoid of decoration, save for a long rectangular table and six chairs, three of which were filled by women. Soon, another man entered the room and offered tea, introducing himself as our "mentor". We never referred to him by any name other than his own, even when I suggested “Alek”. He's over six feet tall, shaved head, and wore all black from his long-sleeved turtleneck to his sturdy dress shoes.
The participants introduced themselves. Sarah researched environmental grief, such as the devastation left behind from man-made disasters. Gwen studied grief theories in graduate school. Jasmine hoped to connect to refugees of war. And Sara--no error, there are two--prepared to make an installation honoring a departed friend. Linda would join us the following afternoon and plunge into an exploration of feeling othered through found objects. After we went over studio policies, we shared a bit on why we study grief, bringing several girls to tears. It felt like a group therapy session--and it wouldn't be the last.
~~~~~
Dear Talya, Gone to synagogue. It's a short walk from the canal. I forget the street name-'Pflug'-something. Come join me for Yom Kippur services. Love, Devorah. Without consulting a map, I asked for directions from three different shopkeepers to find the synagogue. Luckily, they understood English and didn’t express unsavory reactions to my Jewish-ness. Once I found the path parallel to the Canal, the temple came into view: a large building curving around a tranquil block, with stained glass windows and a grand façade. Security officers were stationed outside, and I was screened before entering. "Are you Jewish?" they ask.. "Yes." Unmoved, they question, "Do you pray?"
In August, I went to Washington, DC for my cousin’s wedding. Her family and friends are modern orthodox, or, religious. The day before the wedding, we were in shul for Shabbat services. During the long morning prayers, I read the English version of the Torah portion. The text alluded to the treatment of rape by virtue of marriage or the punishment of execution. By coincidence, this was the same chapter I studied for my Bat Mitzvah twelve years ago, but I must have been too young to grasp such explicit content. I left the room and spent the rest of services out in the hallway, tending to the potted plants as a distraction.
Did I pray? Not willfully on that day in the synagogue. Internally, yes, throughout my life: the inner dialogue between my spirit and the spirit of a G-d. But in practice, only with family over Shabbat blessings. So I answered, "No. But my Israeli friend is in there, can I go in?"
Yom Kippur services were surprisingly welcoming in Germany. Although the congregation was divided amongst the men and women, the dress code was more relaxed (jeans, white t-shirts), and several of the men held babies on their shoulders as the rabbi sang in Hebrew. I found Devorah and stood beside her. I recognized the somber prayer, "Avinu Malkeinu", and it felt no different than my family's congregation. The prayer books here were German on one side, and Hebrew on the other.
After the ceremony, we passed by plenty of people enjoying the balmy weather at dusk. Devorah was reminded of holidays in her country, riding her bike freely while everyone took time off to relax. Shimon met us to break the fast with noodle phơ. I was lucky to connect with "my people", thousands of miles away from home. As a child, I remember feeling like my relatives’ religious differences divided us. However, my cultural upbringing is something I've retained and appreciate. Joining Israelis in Germany for Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, was akin to sharing a secret amongst friends.
~~~~~
As the weeks went by, I developed a habit of visiting the community garden, mornings before heading to the studio and nights on my way home. One weekend, I felt antsy as I read a book called The Truth Will Set You Free by Alice Miller. There was a campfire at the garden as they observed summer changing to chilly Autumn. I surveyed the party scene before resting into a corner of a homemade wooden bench under the dim glow from industrial lights around the lot. Although the setting was not condusive to reading, I was shy to join the group. But, when I repositioned myself next to the fire, it was apparent that these young, hip, multinational guests preferred to speak in English. Rosa asked what I’m doing in Berlin. When I told her I’m studying grief, her voice got excited and she invited her friends into the conversation.
Annika was vivacious and full of life. I noticed her wisps of fuzzy blonde hair, bright in the glow of the fire. She was working on a memoir, and was also the subject of a photoshoot documenting her journey with cancer. As she spoke, I folded a paper crane and gave it to her, provoking a sense of delight. My idea for the residency then was to make a handmade book for participants to share their experiences of grief, and to make origami together. Annika agreed to be interviewed the following week.
~~~~~
I took the S-bahn, the above-ground trolley, several miles northwest where the buildings are close to the city center. Annika told her story: how, at age 26, she discovered the cancer in her breast and rushed into several months of intensive treatment including antibody therapy, anti-hormone medicine, and chemotherapy. She ultimately received a double mastectomy and chose breast implants. For a month after surgery, Annika couldn't lift her arms over her head. It was painful, but her energy was focused on how to function normally again. Now, she was in recovery, undergoing radiation and daily physical therapy. She wholeheartedly embraced her body, and I felt a mixture of awe and love for her resilience and positive attitude.
I encouraged Annika to leave her mark in a communal scrapbook of stories. She drew a breast in pastel colors with words circling the nipple, such as "soft"-, "round"-, "hope"-, and "loss".- After I left the apartment, I boarded the train and closed my eyes. In the dark, I envisioned a bare, cream-colored orb, shiny and wet, like a peeled lychee fruit. Perhaps, I reasoned, this represented Annika's true self.
Back in the studio, I was at a loss to contribute during our group discussion. I almost broke down, overcome with emotions that arose from the interview. So I took a break from the sterile white walls, and sat under the chestnut tree in the courtyard. I picked up a spiny shell, cracked it open to reveal a creamy-brown belly. I wrote a meditation on the seed of the tree. I reflected on impermanence, on patience, on Annika taking her time to heal yet reveling in every healthy moment. I like taking my time.
"Hey Aleksander," I remarked in the midst of studio time, "Since the interview with Annika, I’ve been feeling down.” My mentor was sitting at a desk, drinking tea and writing in one of his many small notebooks. "Do you feel your own grief surface?," he replied. "No, more like I put myself in her shoes, and feel compassion." He advised, "Keep a journal--one just for yourself, your thoughts and daily experiences. And one for your work in the residency; write down everything you're thinking. It'll help, trust me."
----- Talia Frank lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. She contributes to the Donut Club, an East Bay writer’s group. Visiting Berlin in 2018 inspired a love of community gardens and allowed her to re-examine Judiasm within a global context.
Reach the author: [email protected]
Visual art: www.cargocollective.com/taliafrank
Blog: https://wanderlustblumen.wordpress.com
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
The complete list of fics available for the Inception Big Bang 2019 is here!
Works are numbered, without the authors names to preserve the mystery. Artists, when you're ready to make your decision send us an email or a tumblr message with your top 3 choices. Fics will be claimed depending on availability, on a first come first served basis.
On this round we will only assign one artist per fic. Artists that wish to claim a second fic, or that wish to work on a fic that has already been claimed should check out the second round, on July 2nd. All fics will be open for all.
Without further delay, here they are:
1. Arthur and Eames meet as trust fund teens in a Manhattan private school. Eames is a new student who's just moved from overseas, and him and Arthur hit it off immediately. Friendship turns to a whirlwind summer romance, until Eames is forced to move back to London. They meet again many years later when Arthur has to kidnap Eames for a job.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up
No content warnings apply
.
2. A songfic featuring Aubrey by Bread, studying Arthur and Eames and what their relationship might have been like before the Fischer job. The characters aren't going to resemble fanon (Arthur's closed-off persona and Eames's flirtiness). I'm going to try to expand more on what Nolan gave us during the movie (Arthur's straightforwardness and Eames's aloof/cold personality). Basically, Eames is distant and Arthur chases.
Arthur/Eames
Side: Dom/Mal
Teen and Up - Mature
Graphic Depictions of Violence*
* There might be a torture scene, but I'm still debating on whether or not I want that in the story.
.
3. A fic about arthur and eames and their first meeting in the military to all their other meetings in the criminal underworld of dreamshare. not that long, i'm aiming for 2.5k or maybe 3k if i can. i wanted to focus on their totems and how eames could use forging as a totem (because if he can't forge then he must be awake, right?) but he has a totem just in case. and arthur has a totem (the die from the movie) that he uses a lot more except when he happens to be taken and tortured for some secret or another and the only thing that convinces his brain that he isn't dreaming is the way eames stands when arthur aims a gun at him? if that makes sense....
here's a little bit of what i have written so far:
he’s more surprised at the lack of surprise he feels when eames digs a poker chip out of his desk. its blood red with gold and white accents, worth five thousand dollars at the particular casino it came from, disregarding the fact that it was arthur’s shitty first and last attempt at a real world forge after he participated in a poker game eames held on base many years ago and realized half the chips in the set were fake, pocketing a one thousand dollar chip to use as a reference.
“our totems match,” eames murmurs, flipping the chip over his knuckles with a concentration a bit too intense for something he could do in his sleep (ha).
“match how?” he asks, sipping a glass of orange juice, freshly squeezed because eames wanted to use the electric juicer. he's tempted to pull out his die from his pocket and roll to see it land on five, even though he knows this isn’t a dream.
“i have something that you made, and you have something i made. also, there’s some significance with the number five.”
Arthur/Eames
Side: Dom/Mal
Mature
Graphic Depictions of Violence*
*I put the Graphic Depictions of Violence just to be safe but i think it's less than what's shown in the film? because it's supposed to be like an after-torture scene where arthur is like "ouch i'm super hurt and drugged and don't know if i'm dreaming" but again i don't think it's any more graphic than the film at least. might keep that tag just to be safe though idk
.
4. When dreamshare is first developed, no one has totems. They've always gone into dreams for short amounts of time and always with another person, so there's no chance of someone forgetting their reality. Mal's friend Pip has consistently been pushing the boundaries of dreaming, and one day she decides to go a later deeper without Mal. When Mal wakes up, she realizes that Pip is still asleep and she has to go down after her where she basically incepts Pip with the idea of totems.
Gen
General audiences
No content warnings apply
.
5. There was a small lake behind Arthur's house. The following night, he sat at its edge and stared at the moon's reflection in the water.
See something you like?
Arthur turned. A man was sitting next to him.
"Hello," Arthur said. "Thank you for helping me get home last night."
The moon smiled. "How did you know it was me?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water, watching the waves ripple the reflection. "How can you be here and there at the same time?"
The moon leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the sky. "Same way I can be in the lake and the sky at the same time."
Arthur frowned. "That's not the same thing. The lake's just reflecting the light from the moon. From you."
The moon turned to smile brightly at him. "Well aren't you a smart one, hm?" He leaned in and whispered, "I'm a reflection, too. We all are, at the end of the day."
Arthur thought about that. It didn't make sense, but that didn't mean it was wrong. He looked up at the moon in the sky, then at the moon sitting next to him.
"My name's Arthur," he offered. "What's your name?"
The moon looked at him strangely. "Eames. You can call me Eames."
"I'm going to be an astronaut, Eames," Arthur said. "Then I can come and visit you in the sky."
Eames smiled again. Arthur wouldn't have thought the moon liked to smile. "I would like that very much," Eames said. "Very much, indeed."
Arthur/Eames
General – Teen and Up
No content Warnings Apply
This fic is a canon AU and will ultimately include the events in Inception.
.
6. Eames on vacation after inception and stumbling upon Arthur; floppy haired, tanned and just completely the opposite of how Eames has ever seen him before.
Hawaii looked good on him, no better than good...
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature
No content warnings apply
.
7. It’s a follow up story to Cat Person.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040948
First story summary:
Arthur misses his cat and would very much like to get another. He gets Eames instead.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up
No content warnings apply
Set in the Star Trek Universe
.
8. This is an academia AU! Arthur is a struggling young professor trying to find his niche, Eames is the mysterious colleague he keeps (inadvisedly!) hooking up with at conferences.
Arthur/Eames
Mature
No content warnings apply
.
9. When Eames first moved to America, he was at a loss for things to cook. He wasn’t used to the supermarkets and ingredients he needed were expensive. So he Googled food bloggers and found Arthur’s blog. The weekly updates keep Eames going in his boring office job. It takes him a few months before he gets the courage to comment but it’s all downhill from there. Eames is lost with Arthur’s sardonic commentary and when Arthur’s next recipe is one Eames requested, he knows he’s in bad.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature
No content warnings apply
.
10. Arthur is a flight attendant. Eames is a passenger.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature
No content warnings apply
.
11. Haunted House AU. Arthur’s working at a popular horror maze escape place to make some extra money over the summer. It’s far from his dream job—making minimum wage crouching behind dark trap doors and chasing random couples and tourists—but at least he gets to vent his frustrations about his coworkers (who are, frankly, driving him insane day by day) by literally screaming at customers. Then there’s Eames, who finds haunted houses boring, overrated, and not the least bit frightening, but is willing to humor a friend (Ariadne?) by accompanying her. But an encounter (and some painfully obvious flirting) with the cute guy under the ghoul mask is enough to make him want to come back again, and again, and again—
FEATURING:
- Cobb as the owner/boss and the only guy who actually takes his job seriously. He probably squints a lot because sunlight genuinely hurts his eyes lmao - Mal as his wife, who used to be an actress but left to start a business with Dom. Super sweet and kind of protective of their employees. Plays the main ghost. She’s terrifying. - Yusuf doing their costumes and makeup!!!!
- Arthur getting the job in the first place because his screams are so full of rage (let! him! rest!)
- Eames blowing all his cash on haunted house admission fees so he can flirt with Arthur (who plays different roles on different days, maybe? but Eames can always recognize him, even under the masks/makeup)
- he’s not trying to be creepy, he just wants to ask if he can see him outside of work/get his number—but something always goes wrong before he can
- Arthur being frustrated because Eames is a) distracting, and b) not easily scared, which doesn’t look good for his job. And it annoys him because he has a track record of being able to freak out anyone. He takes it upon himself to make him scream at least once (I haven’t decided how he does, but he does, eventually. Eames probably jokes about screaming with something other than fear, but i am too babey to write any sexytimes)
- maybe??? mild h/c?? Dumbass Drunk College Students coming in all wanting to prove to their friends that they're the Alpha Male, picking a fight and being super violent/rowdy/destructive, + arthur getting hurt/generally kind of shaken up; that’s the first night he lets eames really talk to him outside of the job, maybe even lets him take him home (i dont know if im including this scene for sure but..perhaps)
- Ariadne getting them banned from the haunted house after reflexively slapping Arthur in the face with a rubber snake (Cobb takes the ‘no touching the actors’ rule seriously—especially after what happened^). Eames thinks he’s lost his chance for good, but Arthur finds him outside and finally makes the first move :)
Arthur/Eames
General – Teen and Up
No content warnings apply
.
12. Arthur is in love with Eames, and he's pretty sure Eames is at least interested in him back. Only problem? Arthur is ace, and not at all sure how Eames is going to react to that. But Arthur's going to talk to him about it, because the alternative is to lose even his friendship with the forger, and that's just not on.
Only the team is also determined to set the two of them up. Will that end up being a wrecking ball to Arthur's fragile attempts at making things work with Eames?
STORY OUTLINE:
Arthur is ace, and no one knows. When Eames invites Arthur to join him for Christmas, Arthur panics and says no - and spends the whole of Christmas regretting it. The team comes back from Christmas break, and everything is awkward. Arthur knows he has to say something or ruin his relationship with Eames forever, and he's going to do that at the New Year's party where Eames will hopefully be in a good enough
But unbeknownst to him, he's not the only one who's realized something needs to happen. Cobb, Ariadne and Yusuf agree that an intervention is in order. And when better to set their two friends up than at New Years? Get them kissing and surely the tension between them will resolve itself.
What could possibly go wrong?
At the New Year's party, Ariadne suggests playing a game of spin the bottle. Arthur is less than enthused, but Cobb and Yusuf both back up the idea. They play a few rounds before it lands on Eames, whom Ariadne dares to make out with Arthur.
There's an awkward beat before Eames moves to do it. Arthur reacts by freezing and shying away physically. Eames takes this a rejection and leaves the room. Arthur sits there, frozen, and then leaves too.
He goes to the bathroom and breaks down, blaming himself for being so stupid and backwards. Eames hears him, and comes in and comforts him. Once Eames realizes what the problem is - that Arthur is ace - he promises Arthur that it doesn't matter to him, he just wants to be close to him. Cue happy end credits.
Arthur/Eames
General
No content warnings apply
.
13. Arthur learned a long time ago that he was special, and no else could see the strings.
Or, ‘everything is still the same, but Arthur can see Red Strings of Fate’ AU.
There are moments when Arthur thinks he needs to tell Eames about the strings. Owes him the truth, he thinks, Eames deserves to know. Other times – well.
Eames knows enough, and he has secrets of his own. Arthur is allowed this one.
Maybe someday it will come up on Sunday brunch, or something.
“Oh yeah, by the way, I can see red strings that I’m pretty sure are tied up to being literal soulmates and we have one. Get it? Tied up hehe. Anyway, no pressure or anything. Love the sex.”
Yeah, Arthur, that would go lovely.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature
No content warnings apply
.
Ok folks, the next fics are or may eventually get explicit. Minors, we love you guys! Stay safe. Don’t claim them.
.
14. Arthur has a goldfish which, long story short, he has convinced himself he only needs to keep alive to prove he is not a hot mess. Except now it’s not looking so good and has a weird sore on its side and he doesn’t know what to do but he can’t just let it DIE. So he takes it to the vet and is scoffed at and told it is a feeder goldfish, they cost less than a dollar, just get a new one.
Two vets later and he’s at the end of his rope when he meets Dr Eames, whose dog is introduced as his PA and goes on all his rounds with him. Dr Eames doesn’t even question it, just starts the exam and tells Arthur to pet the dog and start at the beginning while he works.
Arthur/Eames
Teen and Up – Mature - Explicit
No Content warnings apply*
* Discussions of parental death.
.
15. Eames is working with Arthur the first time in a long while, only now it seems that he has a huge crush on Arthur. He doesn't know how else to get rid of the crush and he really can't concentrate on the job when he's thinking about Arthur all the time, so he asks Arthur to have sex with him, to get the crush out of his system. Arthur agrees surprisingly easily and sex is great, but afterwards Arthur doesn't seem happy and Eames' crush is worse than ever. The more Eames tries to get rid of his crush, the more it sticks, and the less Arthur is talking to him. After the job, Eames has some time to think and he realises that maybe neither of them really wanted for him to get over Arthur. He goes to see Arthur to talk to him about it, but they end up kissing and stuff as well.
Arthur/Eames
Mature – Explicit
No content warnings apply
.
16. Summary: Eames hasn't seen Arthur in almost four years.
Pseudo- Winter Soldier AU.
--
There's no response from Arthur, no recognition in his eyes. No banter, no teasing – a coldness that would leave any lesser man with severe frostbite.
"... Arthur?" The words sound so raw, so gutted in Eames’ mouth. "Are you-" are you alive? Are you dead? Am I dreaming?
He reaches for his poker chip.
But before he can trace the ridges for the familiar grooves, a shot rings out loud like a crack of lightning.
And the last thing that Eames sees is Arthur and how he always remembers him: in his whip-black suit and a smoking gun in his hand.
Bang.
A single bullet tears through Eames' temples, and he is ripped open, pain lighting every nerve in his body like a pinball machine – and he prays to god that this is merely a dream so he can finally wake up.
Arthur/Eames
Mature – Explicit
No content warnings apply
.
17. “Taxiing an injured delivery boy around the neighbourhood to help him complete his remaining orders had not been a contender on Eames’ list of potential scenarios for the night. Instead of the morose teenager bleeding onto the synthetic leather of the passenger seat, and the short stack of pizza boxes sliding to and fro across the backseat, the Brit had rather imagined his rental car would serve far more nefarious purposes tonight." -- Essentially, Pizza Delivery Porn Guy Crack A/E AU. Aim: comedic tone with bowchikkawowow.
*Arthur isn't the teenager. He is a customer who ordered pizza.
Arthur/Eames
Mature – Explicit
No content warnings apply*
*There is mention of a traffic accident - no detail, but it might not be someone's cup of tea. Also, not yet at the sexual scene so don't know whether I'll stop at M or go to E.
.
18. In the court of the vampire supreme Saito, ambitious human noblemen Eames and Arthur battle for the coveted position of favorite bestower. Winner takes life everlasting.
Arthur/Saito
Side: Arthur/Eames
Arthur/Dom Cobb
Eames/Saito
Explicit
Graphic Depictions of Violence
Bloodplay, Extreme Sadomasochism. Possible Necrophilia
.
19. Arthur is an undercover narcotics officer posing as a high school senior. Eames is his teacher, who is taken with Arthur and who feels terrible for lusting after a student. Arthur takes down the bad guys, saves Eames' life, then they smash (after Eames finds out he's a fully grown adult person).
Arthur/Eames
Explicit
No content warnings apply*
*Eames is (shamefully) interested in Arthur, who he thinks is 18 and also his student.
.
20. Pre-movie: Dom and Mal are a dominant/dominant couple who want to find a sub they can play with together. Arthur is interested in trying to fill that role.
Arthur/Dom Cobb/Mal Cobb
Mature – Explicit
No content warnings apply*
*BDSM, bondage, dominance/submission, spanking/flogging, roleplay.
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Evak Fics - Sports
Any kind of sports or physical activity. Swimming. Skiing/Snowboarding. Football. Hockey. Others. I have a separate list for dance aus.
***** SWIMMING *****
Summer nights by Alwaysevak2121 (1k words) - Summer night, heat and swimming.
Sommernatt by Bewa (5.1k words) - The only thing that kept his mood up today was that it was Friday, and Even had promised him a surprise when he got home from work. Birthday.
cupid by evak1isak (5.2k words) - Isak, a water polo player and uni student, didn't think that he'd bump into his high school crush again. When he does, he wasn't expecting so much drama in his life.
from an earth to its sun by traumatic (18k words) - the entire world goes to bed normally and wakes up with glowing countdowns above their heads. No one's sure what causes the numbers to drop, only that when they hit 0, you hit the ground.
Drowning in your love by depressed_mermaid_53 (62k words) - Even is captain of the swim team. Isak and the boy squad join the team. In this universe a pool is a bigger part of their story.
Panic And Patch Me Up by intothewind (70k words) - (5/6 chapters posted) Swimmer Isak, Boxer Even and Boxer Jonas. Involves Josak. The thing with Jonas is complicated, but the thing with Even isn't making it any easier.
***** SKIING/SNOWBOARDING *****
Sprained Ankles, Netflix and Chill by Bellakitse (1.1k words) - Isak sprains his ankle while on a school ski trip, Even keeps him company in the main cabin.
Hot Chocolate and Snow Angels by GayaIsANerd (1.2k words) - Isak hates skiing. There’s nothing deep or traumatic about it, he just hates skiing.
Suck My Board Bitch by nyicris (1.3k words) - When Isak and Even go on a ski trip to Switzerland with their squad, they meet another LGBT couple. They don’t get competitive. At all. E!Online Poll AU + henrik’s extra ass (wow this brings back a lot of memories!)
From A Safe Distance by MinilocIsland (1.4k words) - Isak hasn't bothered to watch skiing for years. Or, so he claims. Even knows him too well not to sense the truth.
The First Noel by colazitron (1.9k words) - Even's parents have a cabin in Hemsedal where the family traditionally spends Christmas. This year, Isak's coming with.
Just Kids When We Fell In Love by wyoheartsmusic (5k words) - Isak and Even go to university 3000 km away from each other. Luckily, it's Christmas break and they had the brilliant idea to go on a cabin trip together.
Shred by Jules1398 (23k words) (SERIES, 2 FICS) - There were two versions of Isak Valtersen. The first Isak was the one that his friends knew. The second Isak, the real Isak, was trans, gay, and then there was his five year-old son, Adrian. Keeping the two Isaks separate wasn't that difficult. At least, not until he saw Even again.
Cabins, Coziness and Conspiracies by evakuality (24k words) - Isak and Even have to share a bed, their friends are strangely obsessed with their lives and things are not exactly as they might appear. Cabin ski trip.
My Very Personal Ski Trainer by Crazyheart (28k words) - Sana has invited Even and her other friends to a Holiday cabin trip, and Even needs to get in shape so that he can beat his buddies in Sana’s planned ski race.
Different, but same by Crazyheart (31k words) - Isak and Even had broken up almost a year ago, and Even was devastated. He tried to get over it and went on a ski holiday with Yousef and Elias. He met a guy that looked like Isak, except his dark, buzz cut hair, well trained body and rough, charismatic personality. The fact that he called himself Markus Simensen was even more confusing... Even started to doubt who the guy was but of course... he had to be Isak.
***** FOOTBALL *****
Norway. A Summer's Tale by wyoheartsmusic (7k words) - Isak, as the first openly gay footballer and newly recruited teammate on Norway's National Squad, travels to Russia for the FIFA World Cup 2018
Chapter 3 of take me into your loving arms by diminuendodaydream (955 words) - The Pat is a hug that is all about friendship and camaraderie.
Take Me As I Am by givemesumaurgravy (9.9k words) - Isak is the coach of Even’s daughter’s football team and Even likes Isak’s bum. One day there’s a parent football game and Isak, just maybe, starts hitting on Even and, just maybe, Even gives in.
Hail Mary Pass by thekardemomme (20k words) - the term hail mary pass has become generalized to refer to any last-ditch effort with little chance of success. sleeping with isak valtersen until time starts running out is what causes even to realize just how vital these passes can be. American football
i didn't mean to kiss you (you didn't mean to fall in love) by shadesofcool (24k words) - football/cheerleader au with not much football and cheerleading because i(the writer) only know the basics
If You Love Me, If You Hate Me by MacksDramaticShenanigans (44k words) - (9/11 chapters posted) Isak could be chill. He was the chillest. He was a mature, reasonable adult that was perfectly capable of controlling his emotions. Not even Even could ruin that.
we've made it this far, kid by everythingislove (straykid) (60k words) - Isak is just trying to raise his nephew as best he can with the help of his best friends. He doesn't expect to fall for Felix's gorgeous football coach along the way.
And at night I dream of golden curls and pink hair bands by Zabn (80k words) - WIP. Last update Oct 2019. Even swore himself to never get involved with a football player ever again, but then he meets Isak...
***** HOCKEY *****
it started with a kiss by pansexuaIeven (1.8k words) - Chris surprises Isak with tickets to a hockey game. Things don't work out as planned, but maybe they still end up okay in the end.
"So, it was you?" by Julieseven (2.4k words) - Isak is an amateur hockey player and Even kind of falls for him from afar
Checking From Behind by DickAnderton (156k words) - Isak is to captain his hockey team this season which means he has to somehow learn to cooperate with the newest addition to their team: Even Bech Næsheim.
Checking From Behind. 2809. by DickAnderton (102k words) - Sequel. Isak has been drafted to potentially play hockey for the KHL in Helsinki. Even is soon going to face his abusive coach in court.
***** OTHERS *****
Seriøst? by CiaraSky (716 words) - Isak and Even go ice skating.
Fireworks by multifeelings (1k words) - Just how a baseball game brings two boys together in a different way than you may think.
powerslide by evak1isak (1.6k words) - Summer is boring and Jonas teaches Isak how to skate. And at the park, Isak meets Even.
Brunch Dates and Basketball by waitineedaname (2.5k words) - In which Sana and Yousef host a double date with Isak and Even. Basketball
Flying High by colazitron (3k words) - Isak Valtersen has announced his retirement from the quidditch pitch and, ahead of his last World Cup, sits down for an interview with Magical Norway's quidditch correspondent Even Bech Næsheim.
Off the Backboard. by Samanthaa23 (3.8k words) - Isak and Even meet for the first time during a basketball game between Bakka and Nissen. They don't meet again until 5 years later at a charity basketball game.
Beer Pongs and Mistletoes by yllawonders (5.2k words) - Then somehow they ended up arm wrestling and this time Even won’t pretend to lose because Isak thinks he is a tough guy when he knows and he will prove it today that he is in fact, a big fat softie.
the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes by ikerestrella (5.9k words) - Set six months after the events of Season 3. They are on a hiking trip, and Isak definitely did not get them lost in the woods.
Slippery Slope by Laika_the_husband (11k words) - the guys wrestle in sun oil and the Balloon squad shows up.
scarves of red tied 'round their throats by puddingandpie (15k words) - The last time Isak saw Even, he was sweaty and naked underneath him, only to pack up and leave the next morning. Now, they're together at the Winter Olympics, a coincidence which was never going to be a coincidence considering Isak was well aware of the profession that Even was in as well. Figure skating, snowboarding, hockey, skiing...
Head Over Heels by LostInAdmiration (46k words) - Isak wished for the hundredth time that his stupid friends could just be normal so that he could go home and bundle himself in his duvet and re-watch Breaking Bad again, instead of spending all of his spare time outside in a pathetic excuse for a skate park.
Breaking Free (Outta the Closet) by valtersass (58k words) - (11/12 chapters posted) Isak, the popular captain of the basketball team, and Even, the brainy and beautiful member of the academic club, break all the rules of Hartvig Nissen society when they secretly audition for the leads in the school's musical. HSM au
Next to you, is where I call home by LostInAdmiration (101k words) - “Why don’t you start track too? You’d be a good sprinter, I’m sure you’d do great,” suggested Isak. Isak wasn’t entirely sure why he asked - he mostly liked being alone and he barely knew Even - but there was just something about Even that had drawn Isak to him.
The trip to you by charlyflowers (148k words) - Isak hates Even. He hates him with all his heart. What a pity the art class is also coming to the trip to Germany. Volleyball.
To Proudly Bleed These Colors From My Veins by Evensleftbigtoe_91 (164k words) - WIP. Last updated Aug 2019. Mixed martial artist Isak's dream is to feel the weight of a UFC Title Belt across his waist. But Isak has a long and difficult path in front of him. (I haven't had the chance to read this yet so I'm not sure if Evak is the main or endgame pair. But this fic sounds really cool.)
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Between Us (Chapter 9)
Summary: On the eve of his first restaurant’s opening, Souma receives some sagely advice from his father. (Full story here)
On the day of the opening, Souma woke up at half past five with Megumi’s hair tickling his face. He took a moment to watch her, study the serene rise and fall of her chest, and kissed the patch of skin just below her earlobe.
She smiled and shifted in her sleep, released a soft sigh of contentment, and Souma had to remind himself why he couldn’t just get back into bed with her.
When he stepped out of the master suite half an hour later, he saw his father sitting on the couch, flipping channels lazily.
Souma waited a full thirty seconds before reacting; he had to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him.
“Pops?”
“Yo, Souma,” Jouichirou greeted. “You know, you guys have got to get a better cable package. Where are all the sports—”
“Look, the rent is so high in this neighborhood, and Megumi prefers the movie channels so...” He began to explain his T.V. plight, much in the same way he had to whenever Kurokiba came over, when a glaring detail returned to the forefront of his mind. “Wait a minute. What are you even doing here?”
His father shrugged before settling on a rerun of some football match and putting the remote down. “I told you last week I’d try to come in the morning.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like you ever get anywhere when you plan to.”
Souma recalled him being minutes to days late for every ceremony and graduation he’d had since kindergarten.
Jouichirou chuckled a bit. “I guess that’s true, but Gin’s been sending me calendar reminders for the past three weeks. He said he wouldn’t stop until I got on the plane.”
At this, Souma shook his head. “Listen, pops. I’ve gotta head to the restaurant soon, but make yourself comfortable.”
“Have a smoke with me first,” he said before drawing two cigarettes from his pocket.
“Out on the fire escape,” Souma told him, resigned to the fact that his father would do things on his own time no matter what he had to say about it.
“Megumi still asleep?”
“Yeah. She took the day off from work,” Souma explained. “Her family’s flying in early this afternoon.”
Jouichirou whistled. “I remember cooking for in-laws,” he said, lighting his cigarette and his son’s. “Guess you really can’t fuck this one up.”
“Trust me, I know. Nakiri’s told me enough times already.” With no effort at all, his mind conjured the impassive look she maintained each time he put his all on a plate for her.
“You and Erina still close?” Jouichirou asked, wearing an expression his son couldn’t quite place.
Souma smirked a little, thinking of all the ignored phone calls and changed mailing addresses. “No one really gets to be close to Nakiri, except Arato and Alice. But we talk every now and then, when she feels like it.”
The perplexing expression returned to Jouichirou’s face for the briefest of moments, but it was gone before Souma thought to ask what it meant. “Your mother would be proud,” he said after a long pause. “She always joked about moving to Paris — only to annoy your grandfather, but still.”
Souma nodded, recalling the jovial arguments in fits and starts. He found himself half-drowned in thoughts of the diner —Yukihira special menus and crude compliments from the regulars — when his father spoke again.
“You know there’s no coming back from this,” he said. “After tonight, no matter what you do, the name Yukihira will always be famous.”
“Is it really that bad?”
Jouichirou took a long drag from his cigarette before responding; he let his eyes draw closed. “I think you know already, I never wanted to send you to Totsuki. Never would have done it if the old man hadn’t been so persistent. But what’s done is done. Best you can do now is —”
“Don’t fuck up?”
“Now you’re getting it,” he replied, slapping his son on the shoulder. “Don’t fuck up, and try to remember what’s important to you. That’s what’ll keep you from losing your mind. Oh, and Souma.”
“Yeah?”
“I think you were supposed to be at the restaurant fifteen minutes ago.”
“Oh shit!” And with that, he put out his cigarette, sprinted to the front door, and hoped his father wouldn’t burn the place down.
Arato Hisako was convinced that the universe had no sympathy for her. That was the only explanation for why only a matter of weeks after she’d put Akira out of her mind and started getting serious with someone new, she saw his stupid, smug face on the cover of Business Insider.
He looked so cool and arrogant in the photograph, standing by a window in his Dubai skyscraper, that part of Hisako felt inclined to throw the entire magazine out the window.
“But when did he even—”
“Ignore it,” Erina advised as they rode through the streets of Paris in a stretch limo, on their way to buy outfits for the pre-open. “You decided you’re done with him, so be done.”
“You’re right.” Hisako heaved a gargantuan sigh, knowing for certain that he would be there for the launch of Maison de Yukihira tonight, and that it would take everything within her to keep from slapping him into infinity.
As they moved from boutique to boutique, Hisako noticed something peculiar about her friend’s behavior. Although she’d always had impeccable style, Erina scarcely had either the time or the patience to indulge in all-day shopping sprees. In fact, she often sent a professional shopper out with her measurements and outsourced the task of buying clothes entirely.
But now she glided through the racks with laser focus, moving in and out of dressing rooms without even the slightest huff of irritation.
“Are you looking for something specific, Erina-sama?” she asked after she walked out of their seventh store empty-handed. For her part, Hisako had long since decided on a navy blue scoop neck dress.
“No. It’s just you know how those food magazines photograph me every chance they get. I figured I should try to make an impression this time instead of getting caught unawares.”
Hisako sensed bullshit — and she saw that her best friend was touching the back of her neck the way she always did when she had a certain diner chef on the brain. But she wouldn’t give her any grief about it. Hisako knew better than anyone the agony derived from affections that cropped up where they didn’t belong.
When Erina found the right dress, an onyx column gown with a daring slit running up the left side, Hisako smiled and found her gold earrings and bangles to match.
That evening Alice met them at their hotel, dressed in the type of chic white jumpsuit that was becoming typical of her. She took one look at her cousin, from her matte burgundy lipstick to the 100 mm red bottoms adorning her feet and exchanged a knowing look with Hisako.
“So we’re out to break hearts tonight?” Alice asked, chuckling as she helped herself to the vodka in the minibar.
“Just the usual one, courtesy of the god tongue,” Erina replied, deadpan, and Hisako felt a creeping suspicion that she had been referring to her own.
-----
To say that it had been a good year for Yoshino Yuki would be a gross understatement. Almost overnight she had gone from cruise ship cook to Tasty producer with talks about her own Food Network special in the works.
For the first time in her life, she’d flown to Paris in a business class cube and she had no intention of ever downgrading again.
She had spent the last few months feeling like the girl-next-door made good. But once she stepped out of her cab and saw the culinary juggernauts waiting to enter Yukihira's debut restaurant, she was reminded once again of the abyss that stood between her and the true elite.
She had been standing by the coat check, caught between the impulse to network and the desire to search for a familiar face when she locked eyes with Marui Zenji, who was handing off his blazer to the attendant.
“Oh, Yoshino-san!” he said, smiling at her. “I thought it’d be ages before I found someone I knew.”
Yuki returned the smile, noting that he had grown a little since Fumio-san’s 85th. Was that even possible? She had maintained the same shrimpy stature since their last year of junior high school. “It’s been awhile, Marui. Congratulations on finishing your degree, by the way.”
“Thank you.” He looked down, adjusting those absurdly round spectacles of his.
“What will you do now?” Yuki asked.
“I’m actually starting a postgraduate program,” he explained.
Yuki rolled her eyes a bit. “Honestly, Marui. At this rate you’ll be in your fifties before you open a restaurant.”
He chuckled a bit. “You sound like my parents.”
They drifted away from the coat check then, glancing about the clusters of gourmands sipping cocktails and chatting before the start of the dinner service. Yuki’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she spotted Elaine Shiraz and a handful of editors from True Taste magazine.
“Yukihira’s really done well for himself, huh?” she said, more to herself than to Zenji. She still had such a long way to go.
“He’s not the only one,” he told her.
“I guess you’re right. Somewhere in this dining room, Shoji is probably shooting his shot with Arato-san.”
This earned a full-bellied laugh from Marui, the likes of which usually only came out after his third drink. “Undeniably true,” he replied. “But not what I was referring to.”
“Then what—”
“I always knew you were meant to be on television.”
For a moment, Yuki was taken aback. Of everyone she’d ever known, this man had to be the least aware of pop culture. So how could it be that he was following her career down its media-saturated path?
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, as that was the only way she’d ever known how to deal with the absurdly high regard he held her in. “We should go find a table for four. You know Shun and Ryoko won’t be here until the food’s nearly out.”
Marui’s eyes darkened with regret. “Actually, Yoshino-san, I’m here with someone tonight.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,” she said, trying to clear the surprise from her expression.
“But I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if the five of us—”
“No, that kind of thing drives front of the house staff crazy,” Yuki said, a shiver running down her spine as she recalled her dark hostessing days. “Don’t keep her waiting. It was good seeing you, though.”
“Keep in touch,” he told her. “My number’s the same.”
Yuki didn’t bother telling him that her number had changed three times in as many years. She had no intention of calling anyway.
----
It was rare for Megumi to spend much time thinking about her appearance, but because this was his night she had curled the ends of her hair and put on the short red dress with the halter neckline. After getting her mother and grandfather — who had flown all the way to Europe for the first time — comfortable at their table, she started making her rounds, thanking all their friends from Totsuki and New York for coming.
“Ohhh, Megumi-chan, why so gorgeous?” the newly minted Shinomiya Hinako squealed once she spotted her.
“Thank you, Inui-senpai,” Megumi managed to say before the older woman pulled her into a hug so tight she started to see stars.
“Yukihira’s a fool if he doesn’t propose to you tonight.”
“He’s already a fool for thinking he can compete in this venue, green upstart that he is,” Shinomiya interjected.
“If I recall, you were even younger than Yukihira-kun is now when you opened Shino’s, and even less experienced,” Hinako pointed out. She turned to Megumi with a conspiratorial grin. “He’s just upset because he lost his best cook.”
“Ignore, my wife. She’s delusional,” Shinomiya said, pushing his sleek glasses up on his nose. “But when are we going to see your opening, bumpkin?”
The question brought an unexpected flush to Megumi’s cheeks. “Oh...well I’ve been—”
“Too distracted by dick to focus on your craft?” he asked, rubbing his right temple. “I thought I taught you better than this.”
“Oh, leave her alone. She’s in love, like us.”
Shinomiya Kojirou shook his head. “The jury’s still out on that one.”
Megumi laughed a bit before wishing them well and moving on to the next set of familiar faces. She would continue on in this way, trying to let her old mentor’s comments slide off her like water on ducks’ wings, until the dinner service began.
25 notes
·
View notes