#i never got to write more than two chapters about PG sadly

[arikihalloween]

I don't remember if I posted it here but a while ago I made a whole ass page about my ocs and I've been thinking about it again

I still love doing wh content but I see everyone kinda moving on and I do wish I could talk about my ocs again so

Imma show the oc pages I made, they have their names included and hopefully some of those will get people curious enough to ask about it so I can ramble away 👉👈

Fandom ocs

Fandom included : Wakfu, Wings of Fire, Warrior cats, Undertale, Dabloons, Pokemon, Beastars, MLP, TADC, Welcome Home, Terraliums

( I'm not active in all of those, and it's not all my fandom ocs either ( I have like double of that) )

And here's a page with my Pause Garden ocs

(not all are on there, there's way more characters in the story)

[misslilli]

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 25 - 10 Things I Hate About You

“Guys, I can’t believe I’m saying this but I hate this even more than I hated the mutual pining!” Sarah and the two other girls that make up Operation: Bullwinkle are gathered around the big table in the teacher’s lounge. The door to Principal Skinner’s office is partially open, but they’re not worried about being overheard, they've got their codenames after all.

Holly sighs deeply, the sympathy for the fourth friend written across her face. “I know… it’s so awful. I can’t count the times I’ve walked in on her in the teacher’s bathroom, trying to hide the fact that she’s been crying in there.”

The third friend, Alex, is resting her chin on her hand and nods sadly. “Yeah… whenever she gets back from her therapist, it’s so bad I can hear the sniffles all the way to my bedroom and it breaks my heart!”

“You know, one time it was so bad and I didn’t know what else to do so I went upstairs and slipped into her bed. Held her till she finally fell asleep. What do we do, guys?”

“You’re right, S, we have to do something – it’s not getting better. I feel like it’s only getting worse! She’s going off on her kids all the time, I can hear it all the way across the hallway!”

“You know what I found last night in the trash? I wasn’t snooping, I swear, stop looking at me like that, Alex! So, I was just looking for my grocery list and I mistook the piece of paper for it. By the time I realized what it was, I’ve already read part of it and guys, it’s so heart-wrenching, I wanted to cry!” Holly and Alex lean in, curious about what their friend has found.

“What was it?” Sarah pulls a piece of paper from her pocket, unfolding it before handing it to her friends.

“Here. Read it yourselves, I can’t do it again!”

Miss Scully’s list of 10 things I hate about you

I hate the way you look at me

And the way you say my name

I hate the way you make me smile

But I do it all the same

I hate the way you’re teasing me

And the way you touch my hair

I hate how you look just so good

I hate the way I stare

I hate your big, dumb goofy smile

And the way it makes me feel

I hate the way I miss you now

And the pain I can’t conceal

I hate the fact that you’re so close

While not that close at all

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you

Not even close

Not even a little bit

Not even at all

Holly looks up from the note at her friends, mouth agape. “Oh my God … Squirrel must’ve written it that one night with her therapist. I guess I knew she likes that movie, but to write something like that yourself? Heartache must be pretty bad.”

Alex rubs her forehead, trying hard to think of something to do to help. “Well… when we talked a couple of days ago, she did say that she’s making a lot of progress dealing with her past so do you think it’s time to give her a little push towards her future?”

“You mean revive Operation: Bullwinkle? I don’t know, A, this is dangerous territory. If we push her too far, we might break more than we fix!,” Holly takes on the voice of caution in the conversation for a change.

“The Moose and Squirrel Misery Show has gone long enough though, he stays away because she asked him too and you know Squirrel, she’s come a long way but she’s probably terrified of rejection because she pushed him away. Which is also why they can’t see the other’s sorry state.”

“Sorry state’s right, A, have you seen Moose lately? Because I have, only once over the past few weeks, at drop-off, and he’s doing just as bad as Squirrel is. His mother had to come in to help out with the little Moose!”

“So what do we do now?”

“I think I can help with that!” The girls jump at the sound of Skinner’s voice, none of them had heard him come out of his office, too involved in their conversation. They look at their boss in confusion. “Sorry ladies, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and I think I’ve got a solution to the problem”

Holly raises her eyebrows. “How do you know a solution when you don’t know the problem, sir?”

“Please. Your codenames are clever, but they’re fairly easy to figure out if you know a few details.” The three friends stare at him, shocked into silence. Finally, Sarah regains the ability to speak.

“You know?”

“Miss Anderson, Moose, no Mulder, is my friend and I know a few things that you were talking about from seeing it first-hand. At one point, I wasn’t sure who’s taking care of whom, but Felix is a child, so I called in his grandmother to help. He doesn’t say her name when we talk about her but between the teary-eyed look Miss Scully has been sporting lately and your Moose and Squirrel bit, I’ve figured out who he’s talking about. And just like you, I can’t take watching him suffer anymore, so what do you say? Can I get in on Operation: Bullwinkle?”

Sarah huffs out a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “I can’t believe you want to help us play matchmaker, sir!”

“You haven’t seen the look on his face, Miss Anderson, and you didn’t hear him talking about her non-stop ever since they first met.”

“So all this time, you never asked him about who he was talking about? Why?”

“I figured he’d come out with it eventually, but I also didn’t want to pry. Besides, I think he doesn’t want me to know that it’s one of my teachers because he’s afraid I’d chew out his ass for being in love with one of my ducklings.”

The girls hold a silent conversation between themselves, finally landing on the decision that they could use all the help they can get in this situation.

“Okay, so tell us about your plan, sir!”

“First, we talk to them, give them a piece of our minds that this situation has gone on for far too long now. Feel out if they’re ready. Then, we get them in a room together, not alone, with people around and we’ll see what happens.”

“Uh huh… and when would we do that?” Alex is dubious of the plan they’re hatching.

“The Christmas party at The Cabby Shack. Just get her there and I’ll do my best to do the same with him.”

“Sounds like a plan. Operation: Bullwinkle 2.0, here we come!”

Sad!Scully makes me miserable, too 🥺 I cried when I re-wrote this poem

[songtoyou]

Chapter Seven: August

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC)

Rating: PG to PG-13 (Might be 18+ for some chapters)

Description: There was always that one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to openly communicate with one another, but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation. However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either are willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,889

Author’s Note: Okay, I think I am back to paying more attention to this fic. I already know how I want to approach the next chapter. 

Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans or anyone in his family, and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.  

Tag List: @patzammit​

On the whole, George’s birthday celebration went well. Raina turned out to be right that her dad did not make the trip alone. She and Chris met up with her dad for a birthday lunch, where they got introduced to Diane. The woman was in her early fifties and was a widow. It turns out, George and Diane had met a few years ago at a group therapy session for people still grieving the loss of a family member. The two recently got back in touch through Facebook and have continued to talk. It was only recently that George and Diane began dating. 

It was all new for Raina to see her dad with another woman. She was aware that he had been out on dates before but never actually seen the man in the company of other women. Raina was glad to have Chris around for support. He definitely helped ease any tension or uncomfortableness during brunch by telling stories and keep the atmosphere light.

However, Raina could not deny that Diane was a nice woman and liked how attentive she was to George and vice versa. Raina noticed the older couple had a nice camaraderie with one another. Best of all was that Diane made her dad laugh and smile. That is what Raina wanted for her dad, to be happy. Who was she to hold any grudges or contempt because her dad was living his life? It is what Marie would have wanted. She would be happy that her husband and daughter were living their life to the fullest.

That night after the show, George and Diane came backstage to see Raina. Her dad gave her flowers, which she cherished. 

“Amazing, sweetheart. Absolutely brilliant,” George gushed, hugging his daughter. 

“Thank you, Dad.”

“I cried so many times, I lost count,” Diane revealed. “You have such a beautiful voice.”

“Oh my God, stop. You both are going to make me cry,” said Raina. Their compliments touched her. “I’m so glad you both got the see the show. Especially you,” she added, pointing to her dad. “I know it is late, but thanks for sticking it out.” 

“Anything for you, kiddo,” replied George. “So, lunch again, tomorrow night?”

“Absolutely. You two going to sightsee tomorrow?” asked Raina

“We got some stops we want to make. Like George, I never make it over to the City. We’re going to stop by the Metropolitan.”

“She begged me to take her,” teased George and wrapped his arm around Diane. 

“Well, it is a great place. The Museum of Modern Art is really cool. I took Chris there not too long ago. He enjoyed it as well. Museums, great places to have dates,” stated Raina happily.

When Raina bid George and Diane a goodnight, she got out of her costume and took off her makeup. She put on a pair of comfortable jeans, a long sleeve shirt, running shoes and headed off home to Chris. He opted not to attend the show that night as he had other prior commitments. 

Chris had been staying at Raina’s place for a couple of weeks, ever since they revealed their true feelings for one another. He did make a trip back up to Concord, but it was to bring some of his things and Dodger back to New York. Raina was surprised that Chris brought Dodger with him but was more than happy to have the four-legged creature around. Raina loved that dog immensely, and it warmed her heart to see the two lounging on the couch when she got home. 

Normally, she wouldn’t allow dogs on the furniture, but it was hard to deny such cute faces.

“Hey, you two,” Raina spoke, getting both of their attention. “What have you been up to?”

“Not much,” Chris spoke, turning towards Raina. “Move Bubba,” he nudged Dodger away to get up off the couch. He greeted Raina with a kiss and got out a wine glass from the cupboard.

“Red or white?” he asked her.

“White,” she replied and sat down next to Dodger. “Hey, kid. How are you doing?”

Dodger also proceeded to greet Raina with kisses and laid himself across her lap. She began scratching behind his ears. 

“Here you go, my dear,” said Chris handing Raina the glass of wine.

“Thank you, darling. Dad and Diane enjoyed the show. They had a good time. They’re cute together,” Raina confessed to Chris.

He nestled down next to Raina and Dodger, who was now laid across both of their laps. “Your dad looks happy, and Diane is great. You’re right; they are cute. It is nice that they found each other. Looks like they are the real deal. You can handle that, right? If your dad and Diane were to take their relationship to the next level?”

Raina knew Chris was referring to marriage. “I want my dad happy and not alone. He has taken his time when it comes to dating. He wasn’t in a rush to move on, which, honestly, I appreciate. Dad has supported me all these years, so I will return the favor,” she answered. 

The two sat in comfortable silence while watching the news. Of course, Chris had it on CNN. “How can you stand watching this stuff? At least watch MSNBC. They have Rachel Maddow,” Raina complained.

“I’m trying to stay informed, that is all. You used to watch this stuff too when Trump got elected to office,” Chris noted with a smirk.

“Oh God, do not remind me. I was obsessed with CNN and MSNBC. The only reason I watched the news 24/7 because I was waiting for the bomb to finally go off, and they’d find something to implicate Trump, and he would get kicked out of office, but nothing ever happened. It was exhausting.”

Nudging Dodger off of her, Raina got up and downed her glass of wine. “I’m going to take a shower and head to bed. Tomorrow, I’m going to have lunch with dad and Diane. Did you want to come?”

“Uh, I can’t. I have an appointment with Josh tomorrow. His still has some additional shading to do on the eagle,” said Chris, indicating to his covered chest of the unfished eagle tattoo. “Hey, before you head for a shower and bed, you got another vase of flowers. I put them over there on the table,” he motioned, pointing to the flowers, which were a lovely medley of lavender and white blooms. The clear cylinder vase offsets the colors of the flowers nicely.

Raina noticed a small envelope within the flowers and opened it. 

Dearest Raina,

Congratulations on the success of Moulin Rouge. I am so happy for you. It is a great joy to see someone you know accomplished what they’ve been hoping for and working toward. You are proof that good things come to those who are willing to sacrifice to reach a worthwhile goal. Words can’t express how proud I am. You have the creativity and determination to do whatever you can dream. It really warms my heart to see you achieving your goal of being on Broadway. 

Warmest regards,

T.H.

“Aw, how sweet,” Raina gushed at the note.

“What?” Chris asked. “Who sent the flowers?”

“Tom sent them,” she answered, taking a whiff of the flowers. They smelt heavenly. 

Chris was confused. “Tom? Tom who?”

“Hiddleston,” was all Raina said and placed the card in the flower arrangement. “He’s in New York as well doing that play, ‘Betrayal.’ We should stop by and see it. You know, to show support and all.”

Chris watched as Raina headed into the bedroom, but he still sat there a little stunned. He looked to make sure Raina was indeed out of earshot; he got up to look at the card. 

“What the fuck,” Chris said, stunned at the card. ‘Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Sending my girlfriend flowers and writing all that in the card!’ he thought to himself.

“Let’s go for a walk, Bubba. Come on,” Chris said to Dodger and got the dog’s leash. He figured some fresh would help clear his mind.

Walking the usual route for Dodger, Chris looked around to see if there were anyone around. Thankfully, the street was quiet, and no sign of fans or paparazzi. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Chris always felt bad when he lit one but couldn’t deny how the nicotine helped relax his anxieties. And right now, he was in desperate need of something to take his mind off the card.

Chris knew he was acting ridiculous. That Raina had no lingering feelings for Tom, she told him that to his face. However, he could not get the small feeling of jealousy bubbling under his skin. Plus, Tom was his friend. They respected one another. It wasn’t like Tom wouldn’t have found out with the rest of the world that Chris and Raina were in a relationship. Everyone knew! 

Looking down at Dodger, Chris saw that the pup was ready to head back inside. “Okay, we’re going to head back home.” The dog picked up the pace at the mention.

These past few weeks with Raina had been nice. Chris liked the domestic routine he had gotten into with Raina. It was definitely something he would like to continue, maybe say in Massachusetts. Unfortunately, Chris knew he would not be able to get Raina to live in Massachusetts full-time. She set on staying in New York. That was her home. It was the place where she grew up and most likely wanted to stay.

‘Don’t start overthinking things, Christopher,’ he more rational side began to say, which oddly sounded like his mother. 

Finally making it back home, Chris made his way into the master bedroom with Dodger following along. He saw that Raina had finished her shower and was already in bed. Dodger got up on the bed to nestle in the middle. Chris tried to get him off the bed, but Raina wrapped her arm around the furball.

“No, he is fine. He’s like a stuffed animal,” she pleaded and snuggled closer to Dodger.

Chris sighed but couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was precious, his girl and his dog. He quickly took out his phone and snapped a picture. Chris stored it in his ‘Raina’ file on his phone. A keepsake of pictures of his girl that were just for him and not for public consumption. That is what his entire friendship and now relationship with Raina had been, something that was just for him. It was never for the public to scrutinize or even fawn over. He wasn’t with her for PR or added media hype. Chris always felt that what he had with Raina was honest and true. A real friendship that developed organically between two people that had progressed towards real love and devotion.

Sadly, both Chris and Raina knew there would be naysayers and critics watching their every move to see if any cracks were forming. With the positive press, it will ultimately bring out the negatives. It was the way of the game. A game Chris and Raina knew they had to be up for the challenge if they wanted their relationship to flourish and not burn out in flames in front of the whole world.

[addictofsupernatural]

Emotions (pt. 3)

Billy Hargrove x reader

Summary: Billy helps y/n make a list of what she needs to do and learn in her life.

Word Count: 2305

Chapter 1 • Series Masterlist • Chapter 4

"So what are we gonna do next?"

"I don't know. There's a lot of things that I've never done." You said. You both decided that he would come over tomorrow. After the call ended you buried your face in a pillow from excitement. Your face was hot and you couldn't stop smiling. You don't fully understand this feeling; it's one that you've never had before, but you love it.

The next day you heard a knock on the door and practically flew to it. You opened it with a big smile on your face, but your smile quickly faded as you saw a bruise on Billy's jawline. You reached for it, Billy looking down and watching you. "Billy, are you okay?"

He put his hand over yours as you gently grazed the purple patch of skin. "Course doll. Can I come in?"

You sadly smiled and nodded, although not too convinced that Billy was okay. He came in and looked around. It was small and old, but also cozy and had a home feeling to it. You both passed El's room, seeing her make out with some kid. You looked at Billy mischievously before kicking the door, causing the kid to shoot up and hit his shin on the bed. "Not cool five!"

You snickered as Billy tried his best to contain his laughter. That kid's face was just too priceless. You both get to your room and leave the door a crack open. You then get out a piece of paper and a pen, writing down all that Billy insists you have to experience. You were both laughing together when Hopper opened the door. "Hey. Just uh, checking in. Making sure everything's okay." He said, then muttering, "Y'know, keeping it PG and all."

Mike then passed by Hopper, stopping right behind him. You saw the time, and knew Mike would have Hopper take him home right about now. "I don't know Hopper, I think you might have to be careful. Billy Hargrove is the town's bad boy."

You stared at Mike, wide eyed. You then looked at Hopper and smiled. "That's strange, because his tongue has been in his mouth the whole time he's been here, but I can't say the same for Mike. Isn't that just the strangest thing?"

Billy bit his lip to hide his smile, although failing miserably. Mike had his mouth hanging open as Hopper gripped him by his shirt and dragged him out the door. "Y'know, for a sweet little thing like yourself, you got a wicked mouth on you doll."

You looked at him, uneasy. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Hell no. It's badass." You beamed and giggled, scooted closer to him. "Alright, now we gotta do all the things on this list."

You both agreed on what to do that day, leaving a note and grabbing the things you needed. You said goodbye to El and went to the car. Before Billy could start the car, you put a hand over his. "Um, I try to be honest with you about my life." You two stared at each other for a moment, before you gently ran your hand over the bruise on his jaw. "Friends don't lie."

He stared into your eyes, and though he didn't know why, he felt safe to talk to you about this. Friends don't lie. Billy couldn't recall if he actually had a real friend then. "Just a small fight with my old man, that's all." He muttered. "Saw Damien on my bed and called me a fag. He tried to throw it away and I wouldn't let him."

You took your hand away and stared at him with sad eyes. "This is my fault." You stated.

"Sweetheart no." He grabbed your hand, kissing your palm and settling it on his cheek. "I chose to fight him. That's on me. From now on I'm gonna hide him in my room. Right now I just wanna have a nice day with my favorite girl, okay?"

You gave him a small smile at the compliment and nodded. As Billy drove you quietly said, "Hey Billy," He nodded his head to show he was listening. "I think you're my favorite guy."

He flashed you a big charming smile. "Think, huh?" You giggled.

You looked down at yourself, uncomfortable. You weren't used to showing this much skin, and you certainly weren't used to wearing something without anything under. You stepped out of the Hawkins pool locker room and timidly walked towards Billy. "Maybe we shouldn't do this. I feel people staring at me."

Billy turned around after getting two towels to look at you, and he wasn't prepared for what he saw. You had your hair up in a high pony tail, letting him be able to see your face clearly. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes sparkled in the sun. You were hugging your body, in a one piece that was snug in all the right places.

"Well would you look at that?" He leaned against the counter, smirking as he looked you over again. "Aren't you just the prettiest thing? People are staring because of how great you look. Lucky me, I got to you before anyone else could snag you."

You bashfully looked down and smiled. Billy took your hand and led you to a pool chair where he sat you down and applied sunblock on you. As he did this, he listened to you babble on about how you almost went to a pool with El's friends before but then canceled because something happened with El that led to a lot of bad stuff that you didn't elaborate on.

"So you don't know how to swim then?" Billy asked. You shook your head. "All done. C'mon, you're gonna learn today."

You both went into the water, and Billy had you hook your arms around his neck while he swam to the deep end. At first you were nervous and didn't want to let go, but Billy insisted that it was okay and that he had you.

You got the hang of it fairly quickly, and the two of you were enjoying yourselves at the pool. A group of moms were glaring at you, and you caught bits and pieces of what they were saying.

Billy...girl...freak...ugly...body...

You could hear their snickering. You suddenly felt weird about your yourself. It was a new feeling, and it made you want to hide yourself from everyone. You suddenly felt a pair of hands under water bring you to Billy's muscular chest. "Don't pay attention to them." He murmured. "They ain't got nothing better to do."

You hung out at the pool for about another hour before you both went back to your home. He then told you that there was a party tonight, which was also on your list. Later on as you got ready, Billy called you with a gruffy sounding voice. You heard yelling in the background. He asked to come over, and you said yes.

About ten minutes later you heard a knock at the door and opened it. Billy had a leather jacket on and a dark red button down shirt with a few buttons undone. He looked down at your outfit, with your red skirt and cropped white long sleeved shirt. It looked perfect and adorable on you. "Billy!" You hugged him. "Are you okay?"

He looked down at you and smiled. "Yeah, just my old man again. Don't worry about it."

You frowned. "That won't stop me from worrying. But come in, I made food for Hopper and El." As he stepped inside your house, he couldn't help but feel warmer. This house had warmth in it, the type of warmth that Billy's house could never have. Billy was pulled out of his thoughts as you gently grabbed his arm, coming closer to him. "Um, I think you should know that we're a bit strange. And El is a little shy."

He nodded, completely understanding. You didn't want him to be offended if your little sister was not as instantly warm as you. You called out that dinner was ready and served yourself. The other two came out of their rooms to serve themselves, all while staring at Billy. "You can serve yourself too." You smiled as you handed him an empty plate. You made meatloaf with mashed potatoes and red rice.

Hopper took out another small table and pushed it with the one that was already there, pulling up a chair as well. You and Billy sat on one side while Hopper and El sat on the other. When they weren't looking, Billy buttoned up his shirt some more. "It's nice to meet you both." Billy said politely, knowing how to act in front of others. He's had practice.

"Yeah, you too." Hopper forced out.

The conversation was not going anywhere, so you stepped in. "El, Billy's from California." Eleven had a map of the country in her room, secretly wishing she could go travel somewhere other than Hawkins.

She looked up, interested. "Ocean?"

Billy nodded. "Lots of ocean."

"Pretty?"

Billy flashed a grin. "Real pretty, sunshine." Eleven smiled.

You stared at your plate and smiled. El liked him. Hopper couldn't help but feel less tense at the way Billy was making an effort to make them like him. He began to tell El about the times he's gone to the beach with his old friends.

Everybody at the table enjoyed what Billy was saying. The one who enjoyed this the most was Billy. He's never had this. He's never had a nice dinner, where everyone talks to each other comfortably. It's always quiet, with Susan going on and on about her day. He felt wanted here. And the food was actually fucking good.

After everyone was finished you began to wash the dishes. As you did, Hopper took Billy aside. "So, um, I just wanted to let you know that I'm trusting you with my daughter, and that's kind of a big deal."

Billy felt a twinge of pride. "Thank you sir."

"Just, uh, be back by 10, and," Hopper scratched the back of his head, worried about entrusting his daughter's safety to someone else. "Keep her safe."

Billy nodded. "I will sir."

You slipped on your shoes and told Billy that you were ready to go. As the two of you walked outside and to his car, Hopper and El came out. "Bye Billy." El said, waving with a small smile.

"Bye sunshine." Her smile grew a bit wider.

When you got to the house Billy took your hand and led you inside. He then got the two of you drinks. You took a swig, wincing. "This tastes horrible."

Billy nodded, chuckling. "It's for the effect, not the taste. I'll get you something a little less grown up." You understood the joking mannerism in his voice, and gently pushed his shoulder with a smile before letting him go off again.

As you waited you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder. You turned around and saw an unfamiliar drunk face. "Hey, what are you doing by yourself?" He slurred.

"Um, waiting for Billy to come back." You said wearily. You considered using your powers to knock him out. You knew you shouldn't use it in a public place, but you had a bad feeling about him.

"Billy Hargrove?" He took a step forward, to which you took a step back. "What are you doing with him?"

"He's good company." You said in a monotone voice. He kept on walking towards you.

"I bet I can be better company sweetheart."

You backed up into a hard chest. You turned around to see Billy, drinks in hands and staring straight at the drunk teenager. "You don't get to call her that."

"Billy-"

"Get behind me y/n." He didn't take his eyes off the guy, handing the drinks to you and stepping forward.

"You think you're the shit, huh California? You think you could just steal all the bitches, huh?"

Billy wiped his mouth, pointing at him. "What the hell did you just call her?"

You quickly set the drinks down on the counter and stepped in between the two. "Forget about it, please. It's my first party, remember?" You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Let's dance."

He glanced at the drunken teen before looking back at you. He stared at you for a moment before chuckling. "Whatever you want doll."

The two of you left the frustrated, drunk teenager and went to the living room, where he pressed your body to his, putting his hands to your hips as you rested your head on his chest.

"You should be more careful." He said after a moment of silence.

You lifted your head. "I know. But I'll have you, so I'm not worry." He happily looked down at you, making a mental note to kick the crap out of that guy another day.

After you danced you two talked to other people, Billy snatching you every time a guy got too friendly. Later you told him that you wanted to go, and so the two of you drove off, you telling him which way to go.

You parked in a field, where there was a pond on the other end. "Is this the part where something bad happens?" Billy joked.

You smiled and shook your head, looking out at the view. "When I escaped with El, we found this place, and just sat down to take in everything." You got out of the car and opened up his car door, grabbing his hand and leading him into the field, sitting down with him.

The two of you were sitting together, just talking about random things. He told you that he'd never had a trust worthy friend before, and you told him that you've never been around someone who was so focused on you. You both taught each other on this day that this was what having a true friend felt like.

---

Tag List:

@roxytheimmortal @shane-isa-shame @actuallyazriel @tanovic54321 @chipster-21 @jula-bear

[techmomma]

Okay you fucks, here we go. The unfinished chapter. I had a bunch of other chapters planned but only as basic concepts of where I wanted to take Tech as a character. Typically I’d have concepts and flesh them out as I neared the end of a chapter, keeping things open until really put to page.

So first, I gotta admit one of these parts I haaate to divulge like this because it was absolutely meant to be a visually scary thing and describing it in text takes away all the spook factor. But I’m not finishing the chapter so it’s not like it’s about to spook anyone anyway, so might as well describe it.

There were actually two creatures. One was to be explained. The other, well… that friend was just going to lurk in the background, leaving hints but never explained or even touched on. There was going to be a single gag of Tech eating a can of beans as an asker mentions the weird shadow skull thing that had shown up while he was sleeping, and the very next panel would be the fire put out and Tech clearly GONE in a very NOPE NOPE NOPE. That friend was this:

Rusty and I came up with this one and I still wanna use it someplace. There were gonna be some neat creepy animations to it. It probably left some weird hollowed out deer carcasses. Very very Search and Rescue Horror Stories vibe.

So for the actual plot! There were two versions that I actually never ultimately decided which route I wanted to take. One was a little bit safer, the other, while much more poignant and thematically appropriate, being a much darker route that I actually liked a lot, but couldn’t decide if I wanted to take Tech’s blog in that direction or go that dark. Not, y’know, grimdark. But there’d be some death. But there are parts in common for both versions, so I’ll describe the common beginning, two separate middles, and common endings.

We would follow Tech through these very old burnt-out woods, the recent victim of either a wildfire or volcanic eruption. It’s a long, quiet montage of Tech travelling, much like the long, quiet travel scenes in Samurai Jack. I took a lot of inspiration from Jack and the Lava Monster, replacing the ash fields with an ash forest, basically. As he travels, he finds a lake and he notes that the lake is technically artificial. He notes that it’s an ancient mound dam, and that it was likely to aid in trapping fish. Finding the dam, he follows the dry riverbed as it meanders through the black forest. Following it, he finds an absolutely ancient, overgrown village almost unrecognizable from the forest itself. He practically stumbles on it when he probably smacks face first into a big tree in the riverbed.

Version 1: Safe version

Tech explores the quiet, bleak village, nearly unrecognizable. This part of the forest, while not exactly thriving, was spared some of the fiery destruction, but is still being choked out by ash. He moves into buildings, finds the remains of life, and touching various things lead to visions of the ancient people who lived there. Always a different person, various stages of life, seeing things through their eyes as if he were them.

This is where Tech would likely first meet the spirit. And it is… not happy. He recognizes it from of the local native equestrian’s stories, and knows that it means business. There’s a mad-dash scramble for his life into the woods, where eventually the ground collapses under him and he falls into an ice cave. For now, he’s safe.

There, in the ice cave, he sees remains of life, again. This place was likely used as another altar or shrine, some writings on the wall. Tech likely has another vision, and he starts to put together the pieces: by damming the lake, encouraging their food supply, the people that had lived there had unintentionally hurt the forest. The spirit, a protector of the village, could only watch sadly as its village began to fall into despair, moving away one by one, causing great and terrible pain to the spirit that had loved them deeply. The anger and eventual choking of the forest, long after the people had left for greener pastures, had turned the spirit into what it was now.

In this last vision, Eddy sees that the tree he’d run into was no tree: in his vision, it’s a revered statue, a shrine, meant to be cleaned by the running river.

Ergo, the solution, obviously, is to return the river.

Version 2: darker version

Again, I did like this version better, but y’know. Being an mlp blog that typically tried to stay relatively within the tone of mlp, if maybe for a PG-13 audience instead of a G-rated audience. This one really pushed on my limits of what I really wanted to show in the blog, so you can see my dilemma.

Tech, again, basically stumbles on the old village, but rather than being alone, he actually finds a couple other people in the area too. Either hikers who made very poor life decisions or some other guards who’d gone out to make another sweep for injured civilians and gather clues in the process. But after some introductions, they all decide to explore the village together.

And this goes very… poorly. Tech realizes much sooner, perhaps having heard more of the local stories than version 1, that there is a shrine they need to find. It needs to be cleaned, in order to satiate the spirit. So he and this gang search everywhere for this shrine, there aren’t any visions. Over the course of exploring, each member is picked off one by one. As in, they die. Blatantly. Eventually it’s just he and one other, and maybe during a lull, they have a candid conversation. But they’re picked off too.

So it’s just Tech. Tech eventually finds the shrine, completely on accident. He stumbles into the tree, realizes it doesn’t make the right noise, and wipes away some ash to reveal stonework. It’d big and there’s too much mud around the base to clear entirely. He’s enraged and heartbroken that it was there, right there. And they missed it. And once more, he is the sole survivor.

So, like version one, the solution is to return the river.

Back together

Either way, Tech runs back to the dam, alone. He doesn’t have enough magic pull to bring down the dam with just his magic, so either he uses some good ol’ physics with some boulders to smash open the dam a la BOTW boulders and magnesis, or he gets the attention of the guards who stopped him from before, and all of them bring down the dam. The river makes a big entrance, something something this probably sounds like a certain Disney movie but I made this plot five years ago. >:U

The river returns, the village is washed away but the shrine remains standing. The spirit, once monstrous, transforms back to its original form. In version 1, Tech visits the shrine again, there’s likely a beautiful illusion of springtime and the flourishing village, vanishing into ashy reality as the spirit walks away. He moves on, there’s likely a scene in a diner nearby with locals talking about the dam, and possibly returning to the area. In version 2, Tech has a moment of breaking down, sitting for a long time on a high cliff, before a very quiet and heartbroken return to Ponyville. Both versions have him approach only to stop on the hill overlooking the valley, indecision clear on his face, and turn around to leave again.

So there ya go! Maybe it lived up to whatever you might have imagined it would go, maybe it didn’t! But I really did enjoy this chapter a lot and am still pretty mournful that it never got to come to light. I think I would have had the most fun with this one. But c’est la vie, que sera sera. Maybe I can frankenstein something from this in a later project. 

Maybe someday I’ll say what Tech’s super secret magic ability was. ;3

[flowerpowell]

The Boy Next Door (Colt x MC / Logan x MC ?)

PART TWELVE

A/N: We’re slowly coming to an end with this series! When I first started writing it I thought it would take me like 5 chapters but... here we are lmao. I hope yall like this one, it’s quite wordy and dialogue heavy but hopefully still enjoyable! As always, I’d love you hear your feedback! Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Rating: PG-16

Word count: ~2950 (I know it’s long, sorry for that!)

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @desiree-0816 @walkerduchess @liamzigmichael4ever @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @hellomynameisdevi @client-327 @badchoicesposts @blackcatkita @pixel-thirsty @drakeismyweakness @donutsgirl36 @miss-raleigh-carrera @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @lovemychoices @mrskaneko  @missameliep ♥

“Professor Kaneko?” Ellie asked in disbelief.

Was it Colt’s mom? Did I really just meet Colt’s mother?

“Yes. Have you heard about me?”

“No!”

I just live with your son. And I almost slept with him. And I thought I was pregnant with your grandchild for a hot second.

“So... do you have family here?” She asked trying to establish if the woman in front of her was really Colt Kaneko’s mother. It could be a total stranger, right? Kaneko is a pretty popular name. 

Well... Not really.

“Yes... No... Not quite. I lived here when I was younger but my parents moved to North Carolina many years ago.”

“And your husband? Kids perhaps?”

Seriously Ellie? Do you not know when to shut up?

Annya raised an eyebrow at Ellie but quickly composed herself. “Don’t you have class to get to?”

“Technically yes. But I’d rather get to know a new professor better!”

“Between the two of us, I’d do anything to skip Ashton’s classes too!” She winked at Ellie. “My husband died some time ago. And as for kids... I have a son but we don’t keep in touch.”

“Oh no! Why?” Because she left her own son, Ellie, don’t pretend you don’t know it.

“It’s a long story,” Annya waved her hand dismissively.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, I’m sorry if I was too nosy!”

You don’t know when to quit, do you, Ellie?

Ellie ignored her inner voice in her head.

“It’s okay, Ellie. I was young and after giving birth I wanted to go back to college. My husband didn’t support this, his job required him to travel across the States and I wanted to stay here. We had an agreement, I’d stay here and study and he’d take our son and raise him wherever he was. He wrote letters, sent photos, I always replied because I missed them so much. After I gratuated I pretty much lost contact with them. I got offered a job at Cambridge and wrote to him about it. He said I should go. My parents told me to leave them behind and go to London. So I did. I had a house here and I signed it over to my son so he could live here if he wanted to. I went there a few days ago to see if he’s there but I don’t think he lives here. I saw woman’s clothes drying in the garden so I assume he sold it. I sent him many letters but he never replied. I don’t even know how he’s holding up after his father died.” Annya shrugged and looked away. She looked really sad and Ellie wanted to hug her. How crazy to think Colt’s mother saw MY clothes.

“Anyway, you have a class to get to, young lady. Here,” she wrote a short note and handed it to her, “give this to professor Ashton, you’ll be excused for being so late.”

Before Ellie could thank her, Annya already disappeared in the dean’s office. Without thinking about it any more, she headed to her class.

~~~~

When Ellie got home, she couldn’t stop thinking about Annya. From her perspective it didn’t sound like she left Colt. And she also knew Teppei a lot from Colt’s stories. And she really seemed to miss her son. And--

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Ellie jumped at the sound of Colt’s voice.

“Whoaa, why are you so jumpy today, are you okay?”

“Me?” Ellie said in squeaky voice as always when she tried to hide something. “I’m fine! Absolutely, one hundred percent okay, nothing bad is happening, I can promise that. Like what? Why are you even asking? Do you think something is wrong with me? Do you think something is happening cause I can assure you nothing is going on, everything is pefectly fine just like it always is so I don’t understad why you’d ask such a ridiculous question especially that you already know the answer!”

“Okay... You sure you okay? You said that whole thing on one breath.” Colt raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! Tottaly fine! Super duper fine! Super duper trouper fine! And I gotta go do my homework! Cause that’s what you do if you don’t have a mother to help you. Okay, bye!” She ran to her room as fast as she could before Colt could react. That was too close. She closed the door behind her and Logan raised his head.

“Is Cordonia far away?”

“What?” Logan looked puzzled. “Why are you asking? What happened?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged and snuggled closer to her boyfriend. “Just curious.” Just in case.

~~~~

Ellie couldn’t sleep at night. Everywhere she turned she saw Annya and Colt. When her alarm went off she got dressed, drank coffee and ran out of the house in only fifteen minutes. She didn’t even have classes at that time, she needed to talk to someone first.

“I LIED I’M SORRY!” Ellie cried out when she opened the door to Annya’s office. The professor almost jumped in her chair and looked very confused.

“Ellie? What are you--”

“I know your son. I know Colt. I almost slept with him and I thought I was pregnant with him. But I didn’t because he stopped which is good cause I broke up with my boyfriend only hours before it happened. I live with him in your house. My boyfriend lives here too and--”

“Ellie, Ellie, stop.” Annya stood up and placed her hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Breathe. Sit down. And WHAT?”

“Colt lives here. I knew you were his mother but he told me many things, not nice things, about you and I wanted to get to know you a bit better so I kept asking these personal questions and I’m so sorry, I know I should go to Cordonia, I even checked the tickets and they’re available but--”

“Ellie, stop. What Cordonia, what tickets, what are you talking about?”

“I-- I don’t know really, I talk a lot when I’m panicking, for which I am so terribly sorry and I’m also sorry I invaded your space like this I know I should’ve at least knocked but--”

“Ellie!” Annya raised her voice and Ellie went silent. She took a few deep breaths and Annya motioned her to sit down.

“You know Colt? You live with him in my house?”

“Yes, my boyfriend is his friend and Colt agreed for me to rent a room while I’m studying here.”

“Your boyfriend? You just said you two almost slept together...?”

“Can we just... forget I said that? Please?” Ellie’s cheeks reddened. She couldn’t believe she said something like this in front of Colt’s mother. In front of a professor.

Cordonia’s awaiting...

“Well then, thank you for telling me. I’ll visit my soon after I’m done with the lectures today.” Annya nodded and took a few papers from a huge pile of documents on her desk.

“You can’t!” Ellie quickly said earning a surprised look on Mrs Kaneko’s face.

“And why is that?”

“Because Colt... he... kinda... hates you. And I think he doesn’t know the whole truth and if you show up there all of the sudden he’ll run away. Trust me, he will,” Ellie smiled apologetically as the woman rubbed her temples.

“I don’t understand... Why would he hate me? It was them who didn’t want to keep in touch...”

“Maybe... I know I’m a stranger but... if you told me the whole story... I could... prepare him for meeting you?” Ellie suggested.

“You’re not a stranger if you’re close with my son,” Annya smiled sadly at her. “I suppose you’re right. First I need to tell you that I married young. I got married just because I got pregnant and my parents were very strict and would never treat my child as their family if I wasn’t married. My husband, Teppei, was older than me but when I told him I was pregnant he wasn’t scared or angry. He was happy. And he promised to take care of me, of us. We got married very soon, I wasn’t even showing at this point. I was doing my master’s degree here but I had to take a year off, I felt very sick and wasn’t able to function normally. When Colt was born my parents didn’t even bother to visit. They hated me for marrying Teppei, they hated him too. But I loved him,” Annya shrugged and blushed. “He was a very good father to Colt. Very protective and loving, he was so in love with his son.”

Well, that doesn’t sound like Teppei I know.

“I got offered a scholarship to continue my master’s. Being a teacher has always been my dream but Teppei didn’t understand it. He needed to leave the state and I couldn’t stay home with Colt because I spent most of my days on campus. Eventually, Teppei decided he would take Colt with him so I could stay here and get my degree. I trusted him, he was a far better father than I was a mother. I guess I was too young for that. And they left. I knew Teppei’s job wasn’t the safest but I trusted him. He knew how to take care of my son. He wrote letters, he sent photos. He told me how proud he was when Colt said his first word. When Colt started walking. I missed them every day but I knew we’d be reunited once I graduate. I was wrong,” she sighed and Ellie wanted to hug her again. Her story was so different from what Colt told her but she seemed very sincere.

“It was my last year when the letters became very rare. My husband said he had some problems at work and he needed to ‘take care of them’. And then he stopped writing at all. When I graduated no one was there to celebrate with me. Not my parents, not my husband, not my son. I tried to get in touch with him, I sent him letters, called him but nothing. My parents said it was my karma for marrying him. But I know something must have happened. I got offered a job at Cambridge and I wrote to him about it. He said I was ‘free to go.’ That’s all he said. So I went but before I did that, I decided to leave my house for Colt. I sent all the documents to them and left for England. I wrote letters to Colt ever since but he never replied. When I found out Teppei died I looked for a job here, I desperatly needed to know what happened to Colt. And now I know, thanks to you.”

“Wow...” Ellie let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. “That’s so different from what Colt told me!”

“And what did he tell  you?” Annya frowned.

“That you left them when he was little. And you never looked back. I guess that’s what his father told him. Colt had a tough childhood, his father never really cared about him, he said that Teppei was just ‘tolerating’ the fact that Colt was around. And never showed him any affection. He would disappear for days not caring what could happen to Colt.”

“That’s... I... But... That’s not... Are you sure... I...” Annya’s eyes widened as she struggled to catch a breath. “That’s impossible, Teppei was a good father, I-I trusted him, he must have cared for Colt, I’m sure of it, I--” she took a deep breath to calm down. “Oh my God, what have I done?”

“Hey, if it’s true then it’s not your fault! Maybe Teppei was a good father before and then something changed? It’s not your fault, I’m sure Colt would agree with me!”

“My poor baby...” Annya looked terrible.

“Mrs. Kaneko... Can I have the copies of Teppei’s letters to you? Especially the ones he said he was proud of Colt? I think I know how to prepare him for this but I need the letters.”

Annya nodded slighly. “I will bring them or send you via email. I just... Can you please leave me alone now? I need... a moment. I-I’m still not sure what to think...”

“Of course. I’m sorry,” Ellie said before leaving her office.

~~~~

“Earth to Ellie, are you okay?” Detective Wheeler waved his hand in front of Ellie’s face.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry,” Ellie smiled at her father and asked Logan to pass her the potatoes. A week passed between her heart to heart coversation with Mrs Kaneko but Ellie couldn’t think about anything else. The two talked about Colt and his childhood and in the meantime, Ellie really grew to like Colt’s mother. And she was sure he would like her too. She also read Teppei’s letters at least ten times each. Annya didn’t lie. He was proud of him. He repeated this in almost every letter.

My dearest Annya,

our son just said his first word - “Dada” and I couldn’t be prouder! I’m teaching him the word “Mamma” now but he’s so smart I’m sure he’ll learn it in no time!

My dearest Annya,

I’m sending you a few photos I took while Colt was walking – on his own! I’m so proud of our little boy!

Ellie realized something must have happened along the way because she didn’t believe that Colt or Annya were lying to her. But no matter how badly she wanted to talk to Colt, the moment never seemed good enough.

“She’s probably thinking about her thesis already! She’s a little workaholic!” Logan joked as he smiled warmly at his girlfriend.

“Yes, I have so many things to do, I can’t wait to go home and work on it.”

“Home?” Her father chuckled. “This is your home, Ellie. California.”

“Ah yes,” she faked a chuckle, “of course it is!” She pretended she didn’t see Logan’s eyes on her as she took a bite of her food. Logan and Ellie went home to California for a Thanksgiving, and even though they arrived only yesterday, Ellie already missed Colt.

After dinner she excused herself from playing games and drinking wine and she went upstairs to her room to read Teppei’s letters once again. She was reading them when Colt called.

“Hello?”

“Ellie? Hi, how’s your Thanksgiving?” Ellie smiled at the sound of his voice.

“It’s good, nothing special but ok. How’s yours?”

“Eh, it’s fine.” He said and there was a moment of silence. “Ellie?”

“Yes?”

“Nevermind,” Colt murmured.

“No, tell me!” 

“It’s nothing.” He coughed awkwardly.

“Cooooolt. What did you want to tell me?”

He sighed, “I guess I wanted to tell you that I miss you. Just a little. The house seems very empty without you being annoying here.”

Ellie bit her lip as if to contain her happiness. “I miss you too, Colt.”

“Next year you should stay here, I’m sure Thanksgiving would be much more entertaining here.”

“Oh yeah? And what would we do if I was there?” She raised her eyebrow even though Colt couldn’t see her.

“I’d make coffee because I can’t cook.”

“I know you’re lying, I saw you cooking something the other day.”

“It was not cooking but rather defrosting.” He corrected.

“Okay so frozen food and coffee. I’m not conviced. What else would we do?”

“We’d watch TV.”

“What exactly?”

“If you’re waiting for me to say a romcom then think again.”

“Aww, come on!”

“...Fine but it can only have a teeny tiny but of romance and a lot of action.”

“Sounds good to me. So, coffee, food, movie. What’s next?” She teased.

“Geez, you’re hard to please. I guess I’d kick your ass in pool that Toby has in his autoshop.”

“Ha! I’d kick your ass!”

“I doubt that.”

“Okay, so then I’d kick your ass in running faster to the apartment and I’d lock the door.” She smiled and lied down on her bed.

“Then I’d go in through the window”

“Then I’d lock every single room so you wouldn’t find me.”

“Then I’d kick every single door.”

“Then I’d hide somewhere.”

“Then I’d find you and I’d ki--” he stopped and cleared his throat awkwardly. She felt as if her heart stopped for a moment.

“Then I’d kick your ass I everything else,” he finished and Ellie was sure it wasn’t what he wanted to say at first.

“Sounds perfect,” she replied hoarsely, her heart beating like crazy now. He didn’t say anything back and they stayed like this for a couple of minutes, the sound of their breaths filling the silence but it was strangely comforting. She was lying on her bed with a phone next to her ear, listening to her own heartbeat and Colt’s steady breaths. And suddently, she felt at peace. She felt at... home. Her heart started beating faster at the realization.

Colt was her home. Not California, not her Dad, not even Logan... Colt was her home.

Shit...

I’m in love with Colt Kaneko.

[khadij-al-kubra]

Recuérdame

Pairing: Prinxiety

Warning: Some swearing, near-panic attack, implied hanky-panky

Word Count: 3733

Summary: Virgil and Roman have been in a steady relationship for two years. It’s been some of the happiest times in Virgil’s life, but with Roman flying off to college all the way in New York soon, he is worried if they’re love will survive the long distance. So Roman reassures him in the best way he knows how.

Author’s Note: Okay, so I’ve wanted to write a Prinxiety piece for a while and finally got a good idea for one after @altruistic-skittles and @queer-human-being talked about Roman speaking in Spanish. Despite being half Nicaraguan myself, I am sadly not that fluent in Spanish. So to all of my fellow Latino readers/bloggers I hope I got the translation accurate and do you proud. I hope you enjoy this one-shot fluff. 

As always leave a comment if you have any feedback or constructive critiques on the writing. I am always looking to improve.

AO3

This was definitely Virgil’s favorite thing to do with his boyfriend (well, his favorite PG thing anyways). Just lying on the couch together in their PJs, eating snacks, and staying up late watching Disney movies. Tonight’s selection was one of their favorites, Lilo and Stitch. Roman, being the lovable cheese-ball that he was, wore his Stitch t-shirt and red sweatpants. Virgil of course was in his favorite purple flannel pants and Jack Skellington shirt. He snuggled back into Roman’s chest, soaking in the warmth his boyfriend radiated.

Enjoy it while it lasts Virgil. You won’t get to do this for a long time. No more cuddling on the couch, no more sarcastic teasing, no intimate nights in bed, no tender moments...

Since his parents were out of town Virgil had the house to himself (yeah, his Dad and Ren were actually pretty cool), so he’d invited Roman to spend the weekend together. It was the last week of summer break before college started and Virgil was dreading the end of it. By tomorrow afternoon Roman would be on a plane to New York for his orientation week. Roman would be going to acting school there and Virgil would stay behind in Florida attending community college.

He knew it was the right thing. Going to college out of state would’ve been too much for his anxiety and Roman was meant for more. He had such big goals, so many dreams to follow. The guy had gotten offered a full ride scholarship to the NYU TISH School of Performing Arts for crying out loud! Not only would Roman have been an idiot to turn it down, but Virgil would be a pretty crappy boyfriend if he let him.

He and Roman agreed that they were going to give the long distance thing a try. Their best friends had both come up with a list of ways to help too. Logan made a Skype schedule for them to follow that wouldn’t be too hard on their sleep habits (not that Virgil got much sleep anyways with his insomnia) but also gave them time to themselves. And Patton had suggested they go old school and write letters to each other weekly because it was ‘more intimate’ than just plain old texts, and it prevented the pitfall of excessive communication. They also found the cheapest prices and dates for flights between Florida and New York so they could take turns visiting during breaks. Virgil was touched by the effort, but he still couldn’t shake the fears that clouded his mind. He was more than willing to make it work and knew that Roman was too…

…But what if they grew apart despite their efforts to stay together? What if Roman got too busy with school and theater for Virgil? What if the long distance proved to be too much for them to handle, especially Virgil. What if Roman met someone more interesting and cheated on him? No! Roman never was and never would be the cheating type. But then what if Roman wanted to be with someone else but still stayed with Virgil and grew to resent him for it? What if they forget how much they care for each other? How were they supposed to remember if they wouldn’t see each other everyday, couldn’t hug or kiss or—

“Virgil darling, breathe!” said Roman.

The negative thoughts had snuck up on him so quickly. He only now realized how small his lungs felt. Oh great, his stupid anxiety was going to ruin their last night together! Suddenly Roman’s face was in front of him, the edges bleary. He heard Roman telling him to copy his breathing. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8… Pretty soon he could feel his lungs again, see more clearly. After dating for so long Roman knew how to bring Virgil back from the brink. He swallowed down a big gulp of air.

“Feeling better?” Roman asked as he stroked his hair soothingly.

“Yeah…thanks Ro,” said Virgil. “That would’ve been a bad one.”

“Do you need a glass of water or something?”

“Nah…I’m okay now. Let’s just…get back to the movie.”

“Oh no you don’t. We’re going to talk about this first.” Roman picked up the remote and put the film on pause.

“I’m fine Roman. Seriously. Let. It. Go.”

“No, I am not going to ‘Let it Go’ ice queen,” Roman crossed his arms. “You nearly had a panic attack just now and I doubt it was from Lilo getting kidnapped by Captain Gantu. Something’s been on your mind all night, don’t think I haven’t noticed. So please Virge, talk to me. What’s troubling you?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Do I ever?”

Virgil sighed. He just wanted to have one last perfect night with his love. But Roman was right. Talking it out did help sometimes, and since this had to do with their relationship, Roman deserved to know.

“It’s just…I’ve been thinking about…how this is gonna be the last night we’ll be together for a long while. And how—I mean—this is—we’re—argh!”

“You’re still worried about us being long distance.”

“More like scared shitless but yeah.”

“I understand, and that’s okay. Know why? Because we are going to stay together. Yes, this is a big change but it’s one that we can control. We’ll call and Skype and even try Patton’s idea of writing letters. Long distance relationships are hard but not impossible if true love is on its side.” Virgil rolled his eyes but Roman the romantic was undeterred. “Just look at my parents. Mom was all the way in San Francisco while Ma was over here, and look at them now. They made it work and so can we!”

“Until you find someone better than me.”

Shoot! Virgil hadn’t meant for that to slip out. But it was out there now. Ah geez, Roman must hate him for sure. Virgil couldn’t look him in the eye, didn’t deserve to.

“Virgil Burke, look at me,” Roman said, tilting Virgil’s chin up. “What do you see?”

“A big idiot?” asked Virgil teasingly.

“Your boyfriend.”

“Same thing.”

“And I think it’s fair to say that I, your boyfriend, am quite the catch, right? After all I’m talented, charming, handsome, popular, and it’s no secret that I caught many an eye back in high school. Frankly I could probably have any man I wanted—

“Get to the point Princy, ‘cuz so far this ain’t cheering me up!”

“My point is…I could easily be with someone else, but I’m not because you’re the only man I ever want to be with. My heart belongs to you.” To emphasis this, Roman took Virgil’s hand and held it over his heart. “I am yours and you are mine. Nothing and no one will ever change that. I won’t let it! And I know that you won’t either Virgil because you protect the things you love, including us. Remember that! Alright?”

As much as his anxiety kept telling him otherwise, he knew Roman was right. They’d already lasted longer as a couple than Virgil ever dared to hope they would. If they’ve come this far together, then maybe they could get through this next chapter as well. He looked up at Roman’s warm smiling face, saw the tenderness in his eyes, and somehow it was enough to mitigate the fears, at least a little bit.

“Alright,” said Virgil, hugging him around the waist. “Thanks babe.”

“Any time, my dark and stormy knight.” Roman hugged him back. “In fact…this is a perfect segue. Be right back!”

Roman let him go and practically leaped off the couch as he rushed into Virgil’s room down the hall. What the heck was that drama king up to? Still, Virgil couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. He was gonna miss his boyfriend’s spontaneity. He heard Roman exclaim aha from the other room and then he was back, carrying Virgil’s black acoustic guitar.

“I have a surprise for you. It’s something I’ve been working on for a while,” said Roman, sitting back down and positioning the guitar properly.

“Since when do you know how to play guitar?” he asked.

“Well, technically, I only know how to play one song. I’ve been teaching myself for the past month. Seriously, how do you deal with the blisters? My fingers have never hurt so much in my life!”

“Years of building up callouses Princy, no pain no gain.” In all seriousness though, Virgil was impressed. Not many people could learn a new instrument in a month.

“Yes, well, I wanted to give you something special. To show you how much…how much I love you, and that no amount of distance is going to change or make me forget that.”

No way. He was seriously about to be serenaded by Roman friggin’ Soldato?Virgil hadn’t even heard him play yet and already he was moved by the gesture.

“So. Ready to be wooed edge-lord?” Roman asked, wiggling his brows.

“Eh, I guess.” Virgil smirked at Roman’s offended scoff. “Kidding. Go ’head. Play that funky music white boy,”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m half Puerto Rican, right?”

“Really? Huh.” That was news to him. Although it did explain how he knew Spanish. “What’s the other half?”

“Italian,” said Roman, adjusting the guitar clamp and testing the strings.

“Cool.” Even after two years together, Virgil was still learning new things about his boyfriend.  Roman never ceased to amaze him.

“Out of curiosity, what are you?”

“An abomination,” he said, referencing the movie they were watching.

“True, but you’re my abomination.” They both laughed.

“Alright, hit it…mi amor.”

He smiled shyly at his boyfriend, trying to hide the heat that showed so obviously on his pale face. Virgil was happy to see that Roman’s olive toned cheeks were a shade or two redder as well. It was nice when he got to make the flamboyant boy flustered once in a while. Roman smiled back at him so warmly and began to play. The intro was familiar to Virgil. It was the main song from Coco. They had just watched it together for the first time last month. Roman had been reduced to a blubbering mess. Virgil on the other hand…okay he’d cried too, but come on. You’d have to be totally heartless not to.

And then, Roman sang.

“Remember me

Though I have to say goodbye

Remember me

Don’t let it make you cry

For even if I’m far away I hold you in my heart

I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart”

He couldn’t help the sigh that slipped from his lips. Virgil really did love Roman’s singing voice. It was just so…lovely. It could belt out powerhouse notes like a thunderstorm, but also be as soothing as whispering wind through summer leaves. Whenever Virgil had a particularly bad panic attack, Roman gently sang to him afterwards, all while stroking his hair and holding him in those strong protective arms. It was one of Virgil’s favorite things.

“Recuérdame

Aunque tenga que emigrar”

Virgil smirked. “Show off.”

“You know you love it. Recuérdame

Si mi guitarra oyes llorar

Ella con su triste canto te acompañará

Hasta que en mis brazos tú estés

Recuérdame”

Yeah, he did love it. And Roman. So much it choked him up sometimes, how much he could feel for just one person. And to have that same amazing man who should’ve been way out of his league not only feel the same but now show it by serenading him in Spanish…Virgil would never figure out how he got so lucky. And he didn’t care. For once, Virgil wanted to just enjoy something without letting his anxiety spoil it.

In typical Roman fashion, he added a little improve guitar flare in the break. He hit a couple of sour notes, but played through it with a sheepish grin (too adorable) and went into the next part, getting more of a groove into it.

“Que nuestra canción no deje de latir

Solo con tu amor yo puedo existir

Que nuestra canción no deje de latir

Solo con tu amor yo puedo existir

Recuérdame”

Virgil didn’t recognize this part from the film. Leave it to Roman to learn the full version of a Disney song, and in Spanish no less. Was there anything he couldn’t do?

“Si en tu mente vivo estoy

Recuérdame

Mis sueños yo te doy

Te llevo en mi corazón y te acompañaré

Unidos en nuestra canción

Contigo ahí estaré

Recuérdame”

Virgil didn’t know too much Spanish but he was able to understand a few of the words. It was something about Roman’s mind and heart. Like, he would carry Virgil with him wherever he’d go, even as far away as New York.

“Si sola crees estar

Recuérdame

Y mi cantar te irá a abrazaru

Aun en la distancia nunca vayas a olvidar

Que yo contigo siempre voy

Recuérdame”

Virgil felt Roman’s love for him pouring out of each note and guitar string, tugging at his own heartstrings. Felt Roman reassuring him through the song that they would always be in each other’s hearts. No amount of distance could change the bond they had. After all they’d been through, their love was too strong.

“If you close your eyes and let the music play

Keep our love alive, I’ll never fade away

Cierra tus ojos y que la musica fluya

Deja que el amor viva, nunca me desmayaré

If you close your eyes and let the music play

Keep our love alive, I’ll NE-VER fade awaaaay!”

That last belt felt as if Roman had basically ripped his own heart out and shoved it into Virgil’s hands. Any doubts and fears he’d had about keeping their relationship alive long distance ended right there. Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat, yet the tears streamed silently down his cheeks. He noticed that Roman’s eyes were getting watery too. Yet ever the performer he held through as he came to the last verse, slowing the melody back down to a lullaby.

“Remember me

For I will soon be gone

Remember me

And let the love we have live on

So know that I’m with you the only way that I can be

Until you’re in my arms agaaain

Reee-mem-berrr…me.”

The guitar fell gracelessly from Romans hands onto the ground with a clank, but Virgil couldn’t give a damn. He immediately wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, holding tight as Roman sobbed into his shoulder. Little known fact: the popular princely actor was an ugly crier. Full on water works, puffy face, and runny nose. Virgil was one of the few people Roman let himself cry in front of and Virgil took that honor seriously. He rubbed soothing circles on Roman’s back, rocking him as the normally steady boy soaked his sleeve in tears and snot.

It took a minute or two for Roman to calm down. He squeezed Virgil’s arm to let him know he was better now. Virgil let him sit back up but used his thumb to wipe away the last few tears.

“I’m sorry,” said Roman with a sniffle. “I didn’t mean to r-ruin the song—or d-drop your guitar—it’s just—

“Shhh. It’s okay. Forget about that.”

“No, it’s not okay. I wanted this to be perfect! I just,“ Roman let out a shuddered breath. “I know we’ll be okay. I know in my gut that you and I are meant to have a happily ever after, but I’m still…so scared! Not just about us but everything! This is all so BIG, and as excited as I am about this new adventure I’m still terrified because what if I’m not good enough? What if I’m out-done by all the other amazing performers at that school? I mean for the love of Hamilton, this is NEW YORK for crying out loud! What if I can’t handle the pressure? And I won’t have you there to lean on or reassure me or tell me straight to my face when I’m being ridiculous or laugh with me about the stupid drama and silliness going on and I-I’m just going to MISS you so—

Virgil cut off his babbling boyfriend with a desperate kiss, pouring all the love and pride he felt for Roman into it. He felt the other boy practically melt into him, matching his kiss with equal fervency. When they pulled back Virgil cupped his face and looked Roman dead into those gorgeous hazel eyes he loved so much.

“You’re amazing. You’re strong. You’re gonna blow them all away, so don’t you dare for a second doubt that! I loved the song Roman, and I love you.”

Roman gave a shuddered smiled and leaned into Virgil’s hand, covering it with his own. “I love you too Virgil. So, so much!”

Virgil smiled at his words. Then he leaned forward to pepper Roman’s face with gentle kisses. One on each eyelid, then on each cheek, one on his forehead, and finally another kiss on the lips; He loved how soft those lips were. Roman leaned in to deepen the kiss. The passion of it sent shivers down Virgil’s spine, and when they broke away both were left breathless. Roman pulled him close and just held him.

No place in the world felt safer or more like home than in Roman’s arms. Virgil rested his head on Roman’s broad chest, heard his heartbeat. Ordinarily he found it relaxing but tonight, knowing that Roman would be on a plane flying far away from him tomorrow, it set his blood aflame. He mourned the loss of warmth as Roman released him to pick back up the guitar and lean it gently against the wall.

“So,” said Roman, picking back up the remote, “shall we finish the movie?”

Virgil took the remote control from his hand and turned the TV off completely. He tossed it onto the coffee table, stood up and grabbed Roman’s hand.

“Forget the movie,” he said. “I’ve got a better idea.”

If this was going to be their last night alone together for a while, then Virgil wanted them to spend it wrapped in each other’s arms. Roman seemed to get the message as he let himself be tugged behind by Virgil towards the bedroom.

“Ooh, I like this idea,” Roman said with a devilishly handsome grin.

“Princy, I’m about to give you a night you’re gonna remember for a looog time.”

* * * * *

Virgil stifled a yawn. He was exhausted from the night before, but it had been worth it. Except now there was no delaying the inevitable. Logan and Patton had come early in the morning to say goodbye as well. Logan was his usual stoic self, but Virgil swore he saw a tear in the corner of his eye behind those glasses as he clasped Roman’s hand. As expected Patton was a bawling mess, and Logan practically had to pry his boyfriend off of Roman. At least Virgil still had them. They could all miss Roman together.

They were in the back seat of the SUV (his moms had let Virgil come along) driving to the airport. All of the actor’s bags were in the trunk and Roman’s Ma was singing along to an old Santana song while his Mom drove. Neither of the to-be college boys had spoken the entire ride. There was nothing to be said that hadn’t already been expressed last night. Virgil just savored the sensation of them holding hands, their fingers laced and his head resting in the crook of his boyfriend’s shoulder. Roman gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he smiled.

They got to the airport with the usual insanity and traffic. When they got to just outside of the security check, the farthest they could go without a ticket, the Soldato family said their goodbyes. Roman was sniffling just as much as his Mom, while his Ma practically squeezed the life out her son with one of her famous pick-up-off-the-ground-bear hugs (Virgil’s ribs had suffered it once or twice before). Afterwards they gave Virgil and Roman some privacy to say their own goodbyes.

“Well…this is it,” said Roman, gripping his suitcase handle. “Into the unknown.”

“Yeah,” said Virgil, tugging at the sleeve of his patchwork hoodie. “Call me as soon as you land, alright?”

“I will.”

“And make sure you check your dorm for bed bugs. It is New York after all.”

“Ew, but I shall.”

“And I know it’s like a right of passage or whatever but don’t go eating from the hot dog carts. You don’t know what kind of toxic crap they make ‘em with.”

“Well now you sound like Logan.”

“How dare you,” he deadpanned. “Seriously though Ro. Take care of yourself.

“I will. And you too Virge,” Roman smiled. “Don’t go skipping meals while I’m not there to remind you to eat.”

“Now you sound like Patton.”

They both laughed. God he loved Roman’s laugh, so warm and full of life. It won’t be the last time you hear it, he told himself. You’ll be together again soon and talk even sooner than that. They gave each other one last hug, holding onto each other for dear life. Then Roman leaned down to kiss him and Virgil kissed back with all the love he felt. They broke apart, foreheads touching, and just stayed that way for a while.

“Recuérdame Roman,” Virgil whispered.

“Para siempre mi corazón,” Roman whispered back.

Finally they let go. Roman did still have a flight to catch. He grabbed his suitcase and trudged to the security line, turning to blow one final kiss at Virgil. He waved back, smiling at his beloved boyfriend before turning to go. It took everything he had not to turn around and run back to Roman, but he had to, for both of their sakes.

Yes, it would be hard being apart, but they’d be okay. They would make it work and their relationship would stay just as strong, if not grow stronger. No matter how much Virgil’s stupid anxiety tried to tell him otherwise, no matter how far away or busy Roman might be for a little while, no matter the fears, nothing could make them forget how much they loved each other.

[noradarhkpalmer]

Rider, Massachusetts

Title: Rider, Massachusetts

Rating: PG

Pairing: Nora Darhk/Ray Palmer aka Darhkatom

Warnings: Minor swearing

Summary/Notes: AU Based on an ask prompt: only two people in this hotel/inn and sitting in my room alone wasn’t fun so I’m invading yours.

Nora Darhk checks into the Storybrooke Inn after getting lost in the storm, pausing her road trip to be anywhere but Star City after the death of her parents. Ray Palmer's GPS stops working on his way home from a business trip in New York and that brings him to the small picturesque inn. They're the only two guests checked in and decide to be lonely together.

This started out as an ask prompt thanks to @jakelovesamy and now it turned into all of this. I am so please and so stoked about this. I've always wanted to write an ooey gooey holiday fic like this but never had the right idea. 

SO THANK YOU SO MUCH EL REALLY YOU HAVE MADE MY DAY. Enjoy everyone! El I hope you love it! PS there will be a bit of an epilogue type chapter after this just so Maude can gloat.

She hadn’t planned to be here. Neither had he. When the snow got bad somehow, kismet, serendipity, fate, maybe even God, led them to both pull into the Storybrooke Inn. Coincidence or not, the Inn looked something straight out of a storybook. It was still covered in Christmas lights and decorations as was the small quaint town of Rider, Massachusetts. Ray was in New York for a business meeting when his GPS suddenly stopped working and he got lost. Nora was trying to be anywhere but Star City. She was a long way from home, across the country to be precise, she’d been taking the cross country trip ever since her parents were killed in a car crash just before Christmas.

Nora had arrived first. She walked into the just as equally decorate foyer of the inn and then walked up to the front desk, ringing the bell. She glanced around to the adjoining living room, seeing presumably locals since there was only one other car than hers in the parking lot, probably the owner’s, playing cards, chess, reading, just sitting somewhere to get warm and be a little less lonely on New Years Eve.

An older woman came from another adjoining room that she couldn’t tell what it was and smiled warmly at her.

“Can I help you?” Nora looked the woman over and the warmth didn’t seem to fade, she was embodiment of the holidays and everything Nora never had growing up.

Nora nodded. “Yes, I got a bit lost and the storm is making it pretty impossible to get anywhere so I’ll be needing a room for the night.”

“Well we’re happy fate brought you to Rider either way. I’m Maude Mills, I own the inn.” She extended her hand to Nora and Nora shook it.

“I’m Nora… Sorry, my hands are still a bit chilly from the storm outside.” Nora quickly retracted her hand and watched as the woman reached behind her for keys off the very full key rack behind her.

“That’s alright, dear, just sign in here.” Maude pointed to a pad in front of her on the desk and Nora filled out her basic information. “You’ll be our only guest, if you get too lonely up there, a lot of the locals like to stick around late into the evening to ring in the new year. You’re welcome to join us.”

Nora smiled sadly, not quite in the New Years Eve mood and nodded. “Thank you, but the warm bed in the room will probably just put me right to sleep.”

Maude nodded. “Okay, well, we’ll be here if we change your mind. Let me walk you up to your room.”

xxxx

Ray pulled up to an inn that he hoped was open. He saw just a few cars and was even surprised to see the Washington plates on the car next to his. Of all the gin joints. He walked inside with his bags, seeing an older woman at the front desk as he strolled up, glad that the inn was in fact open.

“Hi there!” He greeted.

“Well hello there! What a treat, I get two guests in the span of an hour. I’m Maude, who you might you be?”

“I’m Ray… I got a bit lost in the storm and need a room for the night, please tell me you’re not all booked up for the holidays?” He asked and going off the full key rack, save for one set of keys missing, it probably wasn’t.

Maude waved him off and laughed at his joke. “Nope, you’ll be my one of two guests. Just sign in here and I’ll get you all set up.”

Ray obliged and noticed the only other name on the guestbook. Nora Darhk. He’d heard that name before but he couldn’t place where. He finished and took the keys from Maude and let her lead him to his room.

xxxx

Nora looked up from her book when she heard shuffling and voices move past her door. Maude? Another guest? She heard a deeper, charming, male voice chatting with Maude. She heard a door open near her and shut a few moments later. Nora shivered slightly and stared at the unlit fireplace across from her bed. She really didn’t want to start a fire and possibly set something else on fire in the process so she resolved to sitting on her bed in her thickest sweater and coziest socks.

Another few hours passed and Nora, despite moving under the covers now, was almost completely freezing. She looking at the time 10:13pm. Less than two hours to midnight. To a new year. To the first full year ahead of her without her parents. She swallowed thickly, trying to not let herself be sad about it. She let herself grieve and mourn up to the funeral and the wake after but quickly locked that part of herself away after that.

Nora was brought out of her thoughts when she heard a loud noise from the room next to hers. The clunking of logs and a satisfied sigh. Whoever was next door had started their fireplace. She sighed. Who was she? Sitting in here all pathetic by herself on New Years Eve. She couldn’t even be bothered to start her own fireplace. Nora, now in her pajamas, grabbed her robe and slipped on her houseshoes and padded out of the room. Wait what was she doing?

Not being alone. That’s what she was doing.

Knocking on a complete stranger’s door two hours to midnight? They could be a serial killer? Or they could just make her feel a little less lonely.

Nora gently rapped on the door next to hers and she sucked in a breath as a very tall, handsome, and shirtless man answered the door. She was so stunned her hand was still raised as if she were still knocking.

“Hey, can I help you?” The man greeted with a smile.

Words stuck in Nora’s throat as she tried so hard not to stare at the man’s muscular chest and arms. “Umm… I just heard you starting your fire and I really don’t want to set my room on fire so I was wondering if I umm wow this sounds so stupid now that I am saying it out loud but… I was wondering if I could hang out in here?”

The man looked down after Nora was noticeably staring and realized he was still shirtless. He fetched his shirt from the bed and slid on the plain black tee. He leaned against the doorframe and listened to her request. Something inside him told him to let her in.

“Sure. Come on in, get warm, you look cold.”

Nora smiled in thanks and walked inside, wrapping her arms around herself, not sure what to do but thankful for the good 10 degree difference between his room and hers.

“I’m Ray by the way, Ray Palmer.” Ray held out his hand to Nora.

Nora shook it. “I’m Nora, Nora Darhk.” She smiled and then puzzle pieces clicked in her brain. “Like as in Ray Palmer of Palmer Technologies?”

“That’s me.” He grinned.

Nora guffawed. “What in the world are you doing at this tiny little Inn in Massachusetts?”

“I was on a business trip in New York and got a bit lost.” He shrugged. “Guess you can’t always count on GPS’s huh?” Ray offered her a seat on his bed and she gingerly sat down, pulling her legs up to her chest. “It seems we’re the only two guests so… what brought you to Rider?”

“Same as you… I mean… I got lost because of the storm. I’ve been on a cross country road trip since Christmas Eve.”

“Are you the one with the Washington state plates? Are you driving across the country to see different family members?”

Nora nodded. “Yeah… that’s me, why? And no… I don’t have any family, kinda why I took the roadtrip. To get away from that small fact.”

Ray had a sudden flash. An obituary in the paper for a Ruve Adams and a Damien Darhk, killed in a car crash, survived by their daughter… Nora. “You live in Star City, don’t you?”

Nora furrowed her brow, now suspecting this man was either a stalker, serial killer, or too good to be true. “Yeah… why do you know this much about me?”

Ray realized how all of his questions sounded and waved her off. “No it’s not like that… I saw your parents’ obituary in the paper a couple weeks ago… I’m sorry for your loss. That must be so hard losing them so close to the holidays.”

“Yeah well… that’s just how fate likes to treat me.” She shrugged. “I lost my job back in September and then this… I basically emptied my savings and found myself on the interstate on Christmas Eve, which is a bitch to dive in by the way, I’ve just been trying to be anywhere but Star City or any place that reminds me of my parents. I was on my way to Boston when I got lost and ended up here.”

Ray reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry. I really am. Four years ago… I lost my fiancee, we got mugged at gunpoint and… he shot us both I somehow survived. I don’t know why or how… it doesn’t seem fair. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why she died and I got to live. I spent a lot of time with that pain, I wish I had the agency you did to just take off and deal with it in whatever way you pleased. If you want to talk about it more, I’m here, I know we just met but maybe opening up to a complete stranger you’ll never see again might be easier.”

Nora wiped away a stray tear that she was pissed she let fall and shook her head. “You never know, you might bump into me on the streets of Star City. But, I know what you mean. I’m sorry you lost her, but maybe you’re still here because of a greater purpose. I read the papers, your tech company is not only successful but gives back and really makes an effort to change things at a grassroots level, that’s revolutionary. None of that would be possible if you weren’t still here.”

Ray hadn’t thought of it that way. It didn’t make the pain of losing Anna any less worse four years down the line but it did make him breathe a little easier thinking about it. She was right. He had found purpose in those four years even though some of it was because he had thrown himself a little too much into his work but, he was still proud of all that he had accomplished.

“So, what’s this job that was stupid enough to let you go?” He asked, trying to move onto a lighter tone to the evening.

Nora tried to hide her smile. “I didn’t technically lose it, it’s just over for the season. Don’t judge… but I work at a Renaissance Fair. I’m considering not going back next season because my boss is a jerk so I kind of decided to lose my job.”

Ray tried to hold in his laugh. “Of all the things I thought you would say, that was definitely not it.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “You can laugh, go ahead. It wasn’t my first choice in jobs either. I have a teaching degree but no one wants to hire a drama teacher in the age of STEM.” She sarcastically airquoted ‘STEM’ and realized she was talking to a man with probably multiple degrees all in STEM fields. “Sorry.” She blushed and looked away.

Ray shrugged. “No, it’s okay. I love the arts. I have a lot of paintings in my apartment I commission from local artists and I love musicals. The arts are still important no matter what other science fuddy-duddies say.”

Nora smiled and realized they were still holding hands, she tried to retract, realizing he probably hadn’t meant to hold her hand this long but he simply put his other hand on the other side of hers and smiled, so she kept it there.

“So you like musicals?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Do I? Singin in the Rain is my favorite movie of all time.”

Nora grinned. “I’m more of a Grease girl myself, but I can appreciate Debbie Reynolds in her prime.”

“What else do you like to do other than watch musicals and what exactly is it that you do at the Ren fair?”

“I’m a witch. I tell fortunes and pretend to cast loves spells or curse enemies. All very Morgana Le Fey type stuff.” She found herself now playing with his fingers as he let off one of his hands off and she tangled their fingers together. It felt almost instinctual to do this. And she wasn’t sure why.

“You continue to surprise me, Nora Darhk.” He shook his head and gazed at her longingly, he really truly hoped he’d bump into her one day in Star City.

Nora moved their hands so they were in a position to thumb wrestle and gave him a smirk. They absently started thumb wrestling as they continued to talk.

“And to answer your other question, I like to draw, paint, I dabble a little bit in photography, I sort of do a little bit of everything since I don’t exactly have the most stable job in the world.”

“Paint anything I might have seen in a gallery or coffee shop?”

She shook her head. “I’m not that good, I’d love to start a photography series called Faces in the City where I just capture Star City for what it is, the good and the bad. Maybe it’ll help bring change, I’d love to donate and proceeds I make off of selling prints to homeless shelters around town.”

His heart swelled. This woman had had the worst few months of her life and there was still room in her heart for people less fortunate than her. She was a marvel.

“I could help you with that,” he offered.

Nora realized he meant financially and she waved him off. “No… you don’t have to do that.”

“No, come on I think it’s a great idea, maybe if not with that but with the drama teacher gig. I give a lot to STEM camps but I also give a lot to art programs. Summer programs that teach kids how to write, draw, paint, do theatre, music, dance. They’re always looking for qualified instructors.”

“I had one real year of teaching before they cut the funding at my school so I’m not exactly what you would call ‘qualified’,” she said.

“I think you’re plenty amazing and any school would be lucky to have you shaping and encouraging the future minds of this country. Teachers don’t get enough credit. If you ever need a recommendation while you’re job hunting, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Nora choked out a laugh. “You’ve known me for an hour, why would you want to do that?”

“Because I see that there is something incredibly special about you, Nora, and I’m really glad whatever it was that brought us here together tonight did. I don’t know how we ended up being the only two residents of this inn but I’m thankful it meant we got to meet.”

Nora face flushed. What exactly did he mean by all of that? Was it romantic interest? Plantonic interest? Was she even ready for romantic interest? She’d known this man an hour. She glanced at the clock 11:15pm. Forty-five minutes until 2019. She looked into his eyes and smiled. “Me too.”

They spent the next forty minutes talking about life, laughing at how rowdy the locals downstairs were getting, Ray showed her some of his personal invention ideas that he just had to get on paper somewhere, he wasn’t sure if they’d ever come to be, but they all revolved around making the world a safer and better place and Nora’s heart swelled at his heart for humanity. It was now five minutes to midnight and they had moved to sit in front of the fire. Ray had snuck downstairs and nabbed a bottle of sparkling grape juice and two glasses. He poured them each a glass and settled down next to her in front of the fire.

Nora had shed her robe, it was too hot to have it on and sit in front of the fire but now it was almost like she was just still a smidge too cold to be comfortable.

Ray noticed her shivering and fetched a blanket, he sat back down across from her and draped the blanket over the both of them, their legs brushed together. Nora looked absolutely beautiful next to the fire. An absolute angel if he were honest. Maybe one day she would be his angel.

The minutes ticked by and they sat in a comfortable silence, two minutes to midnight now.

“Hey, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever kissed anyone at midnight?” She asked, looking a little apprehensive to even broach the subject of the New Years Eve tradition.

Ray nodded. “Anna and I did every New Years we were together. What about you?”

Nora shook her head. “If my dad was awake he’d kiss my cheek and say ‘Happy New Year, Nora-doll’ but other than that, no.”

“Why do you ask?” He couldn’t help himself now, he reached for her free hand and tangled their fingers together.

“Will you kiss me at midnight?” Any boldness she had left her body the minute she asked and immediately tore her hand away to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry… that was really forward wow are you sure this is non-alcoholic?”

Ray chuckled. “Yes.”

Nora looked up at him. “Yes to what?”

Ray heard cheering from below and a clock tower chiming in the distance. Midnight. He smiled and pulled her in for a soft, sweet kiss and then pulled back. “What do you think?”

Nora smiled in return and pulled him back in for another kiss. “I’m really happy we decided to be lonely together.”

“Happy New Year, Nora.” If she hadn’t just met him tonight, she’d consider the look in his eyes to be of complete adoration and love.

“Happy New Year, Ray.” She knew now that 2019 would be her absolute best year yet.

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Fires of Home

Series: Reversal||Story: Fires of Home Characters: Asuka, Bewitching Phantom Thief||Ship: N/A Chapters: 1-1||Words: 2,154 Genre: Drama||Rated: PG Challenges: Diversity Writing Challenge, YGO GX, reversal AU, E3, 1-shot with no dividers Notes: Asuka will have more of a story later. This duel demanded to be told. Summary: Asuka has to survive a fight with Bewitching Phantom Thief.

Asuka wasn’t surprised to see the rocks rising out of the ground, each one faintly shimmering, the marks that denoted a circle of death on each one of them. Only one of them would step out of this circle alive: the winner of the duel.

Bewitching Phantom Thief smirked as he drew his cards, duel disk manifesting on his arm a heartbeat earlier. “Do you truly think you can win?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Asuka drew her cards and squared up her shoulders. This was a fight to the death, but at the same time, it would keep the ghost here so he couldn’t track down Cyber Prima. If she could get to the others in time, pass on the information, then whatever happened to Asuka would be more than worth it.

Though if it came to it, she would gladly surrender the duel and accept her own death. Better that than all the rumors that she’d heard.

“The first turn’s mine!” Asuka declared, seeing what her cards had for her. Bewitching Phantom Thief only tilted his head and waited to see what she would do.

She wasted no time at all. “I activate Fusion! From my hand, I fuse Toilet Cyber and Blade Skater, to summon Cyber Blader! Turn end!” Her monster couldn’t attack this turn, but she would have a strong defense until then. There weren’t many monsters someone could summon on their first turn that would be able to crack the twenty-one hundred point attack.

But Bewitching Phantom Thief only took his turn with ease. “I summon Dream Pierrot. Do you know his effect?” Bewitching Phantom Thief admired the clown that appeared before him with a nearly gentle smile. Asuka did not trust it at all. “When it turns from attack to defense mode, a monster on your side of the field is destroyed. Oh, it seems that you only have one monster. How sad.”

Asuka’s shoulders tensed. This wouldn’t normally be a problem. But she refused to trust anyone who willingly served Haou.

“I play Earthquake, changing all monsters on the field to defense mode!” Not much of his mouth could be seen behind his cloak, but Asuka thought that he smiled. “Which means that my monster’s effect destroys yours.”

Energy slashed across the field as a low rumble rose, sending both monsters stumbling to the ground. Dream Pierrot knelt quickly, but the earth itself split underneath Cyber Blader, the fissure swallowing the warrior’s scream even as it swallowed her.

“This does mean I can’t attack this turn,” Bewitching Phantom Thief declared with a sigh. “But don’t worry. I’m not going to let you escape unharmed.” A card flicked between gloved fingers. “Fireball! Five hundred damage!”

From above there came a burning blast of fire that burned away the night, slamming hard into Asuka. She could not help the scream, falling several steps backward. It wasn’t much of a hit to her life points, but the tips of her hair singled and she quickly patted out the flames on her clothes.

“Now, I set one card, and end my turn. What do you have to stop me now?”

Asuka shook her head to clear it; the blaze’s pain faded after a few seconds. “Let’s see. I draw!”

Her deck wanted to help her. She’d always known that; she’d fought to gain their trust for years. So far it had worked very well. Now wasn’t an exception.

“I activate Machine Angel Ritual! Using Cyber Prima as the cost, I summon Cyber Angel Benten!”

Cyber Angel Benten, holding her fan in one hand, leaped into existence beside Asuka. Asuka spared a thought for Cyber Prima; it wouldn’t be the wise thing to try to summon her in this duel, not with her on the way to the next couriers, but using her for this would be all right.

“Cyber Angel Benten, attack his Dream Pierrot!” It wouldn’t cause any battle damage, but Benten’s monster effect would at least deliver a little damage. She could not help but eye that face-down card. She wanted to know what it was, and this would tell her that too. Some chances had to be taken.

No sooner had Cyber Angel Benten taken a single step but Bewitching Phantom Thief raised one hand to gesture to the set card. “Face-down, activate! Drain Shield!”

He needed say no more than that. She knew the card; she’d seen it played before. Not only would the battle be halted, but now Bewitching Phantom Thief’s life points grew by Cyber Angel Benten’s attack, giving him almost six thousand – five thousand eight hundred to be precise – life points.

Her lips pressed together. This wasn’t going very well. “I end my turn.”

Bewitching Phantom Thief definitely smiled now when he drew his new card. “Now I summon Apprentice Witch! She’s a very useful person to have on my field, since by her existence, she increases all the attacks of my Dark monsters by five hundred – that includes her, by the way. Sadly Dream Pierrot is an Earth monster and can’t take advantage of the effect.”

Asuka said nothing. She only waited, eyes resting on the new arrival, tall in robes of blue and a spill of red-gold hair. The thief wasn’t done yet.

“But Apprentice Witch’s effect also effects your monster – sort of. Not only does it increase the attack of Dark Monsters, but it reduces that of Light monsters by four hundred points. So your Cyber Angel Benten is now down to fourteen hundred points. That’s going to hurt, I’m sure.”

Asuka raised her head. “If you’re going to attack, then attack. Don’t keep on talking about it.”

That got a laugh. “One moment, please. I have one more card to play before I cause you pain. This one hurts me – I’m sure you’re ever so wounded because of this.”

That got Asuka rolling her eyes. Bewitching Phantom Thief raised up one card.

“This is Demonsblood Sacrifice. I target a monster in my hand, deck, or graveyard, and offer an amount of my life points equal to their attack in order to Special Summon them!”

Spikes shot outward from the card and slashed down across the thief’s chest, bright blood spattering all over. The thief didn’t move, or even seem to notice.

He was, after all, a ghost already.

“I can only target a Demon-Type monster by this effect and on the turn that they’re Special Summoned I cannot attack with them, and their attack is halved. On my next turn, of course, that will all be changed.” She could see the smile clearly now. “I summon Angmar the Demon Monarch!”

His life points fell by two thousand and four hundred, as the new monster rose up next to him. It stood tall and black armored, a fierce glare delivered across the field to Asuka, arms crossed over its chest. She stared back at it relentlessly.

Again he wasn’t done yet. “I really would like to attack right now. But I do intend to win this duel and that means I need to kill you. I would apologize but you’re trying to kill me, too.”

Asuka didn’t smile. If he would just get on with it, the better she’d like it.

“I equip Giant’s Might to your Cyber Angel Benten. Since your life points are lower than mine, the effect halves Benten’s attack points: putting them at six hundred and fifty.” He made a very sad noise that Asuka refused to believe for so much as a breath. “Now, you wanted me to attack? Very well. Apprentice Witch, take that eyesore of hers down.”

Apprentice Witch darted forward, pale pink wings spread outward as she shot across and struck Benten with her broom. Benten cried out briefly before exploding into shards of light and fading away. Asuka tensed; she knew what would come next.

“Dream Pierrot! Now that you’re in attack mode, strike!”

The clown blazed across and Asuka stumbled back, pain racing up and down her, her heart pounding, trying hard not to fall to her knees. She wasn’t gone yet. She needed to keep going.

“What’s this?” It wasn’t a voice that she completely recognized but it sounded a touch familiar; perhaps she’d heard it once or twice. She rubbed her eyes and looked around, her eyes focusing at last on two figures standing outside the circle.

“Looks like a member of the resistance fighting against one of Haou’s army,” the other said. Asuka rubbed her eyes again and focused.

Two warrior women, both in full armor, and now that she saw them, she knew their cards.

“Tactical Warrior. Valkyrie Knight.”

Both nodded towards her. “A greeting, warrior,” Tactical Warrior said, voice calm and welcoming. “Should you win this battle, we feel that you should know that your companion succeeded in her errand.”

Tension flowed out of Asuka as if it had never been there to begin with. She drew herself up a breath later. This didn’t mean that she could back down. She needed to get out of here, just to see Cyber Prima again, and all of those friends of hers as well.

“We’ll escort you if you like,” Valkyrie Knight offered. “But do finish this first.”

Bewitching Phantom Thief’s eyes narrowed towards them. “Those who stand against Haou-sama do not often live to regret their choices.”

“You aren’t going to live to let him know,” Asuka snapped. “I’m your opponent. You pay attention to me.”

She had one card to draw, one that might tilt the balance of the duel. She smiled when she looked at it.

“First, I play Monster Reborn, recalling Cyber Blader from the graveyard!” Asuka grinned as her favorite monster leaped up before her, ready and willing to strike once again. “But the graveyard’s still on my side tonight! I play Fulfillment of the Contract, paying eight hundred life points to Special Summon Cyber Angel Benten!”

Bewitching Phantom Thief tilted his head a fraction. “Why? Benten will still be affected by Apprentice Witch’s effect. Neither of your monsters can touch my Angmar, either.”

“Watch this.” Asuka did not hold back the grin that split her features. “Cyber Angel Benten, attack Apprentice Witch and get rid of her!”

Without Giant’s Might’s effect, Cyber Angel Benten being at fourteen hundred attack was still more than enough to finish Apprentice Witch off. Asuka covered her eyes for a second, then kept on with her next move.

“You’ve only got two monsters now: and that means Cyber Blader’s second effect takes over now! Her attack is doubled, more than enough to finish Angmar! Do it, Cyber Blader!”

Again her monster shot across and there wasn’t a chance for Angmar to do anything, the explosion knocking Bewitching Phantom Thief backwards a half a dozen places. Both watching knights nodded in approval, as Asuka tried to get her breath back. She didn’t have enough to be able to finish him off, unfortunately. Not right now.

The ghost recovered himself. All of the false amusement vanished now. He yanked one card from his deck and bit the words off.

“I tribute Clown Pierrot to call forth Demon’s Summoner!” The creature that appeared now roared menacingly, tail lashing, horns sharp and tilted, perhaps a full seven feet tall, and wielded a skull-tipped staff. “Demon’s Summoner, destroy Cyber Angel Benten!”

A good choice; it would do more damage. Asuka could appreciate it even as she fell backwards, dark energy wrapping around her monster before she exploded. Now she had just five hundred points – so unless she could finish it on this turn of hers, it would all be over with for her.

She glanced at the deck. Let’s do this. Win or lose, live or die.

She raised her eyes to where the two knights watched. She knew little about them, but their fire, their warmth, drew her. She wanted to know more. Which meant she had to survive through this.

Asuka drew the card. “Pot of Greed,” she murmured, before drawing two more. Then she smiled the most relieved smile of her entire life – or at least of this duel. “First, I play Fusion Recovery – I regain Fusion from my graveyard, and one of the monsters that I used for a Fusion Summon. In this case, Blade Skater. Also: I equip Cyber Blader with Fusion Weapon, increasing her attack by fifteen hundred.”

She stared at Bewitching Phantom Thief. “Cyber Blader, Glissade Slash! Blade Skater, Accel Slicer!”

Spinning around one another, Cyber Blader and Blade Skater slashed into Bewitching Phantom Thief, slamming him into the surrounding stones as the last of his life points drained away.

When Asuka found herself capable of looking up again, she was on her knees, almost all of her energy drained. Command Knight and Valkyrie Knight stood before her, hands held outward.

“I’m Shula. This is Larunda. Come on,” Valkyrie Knight said. “Let’s go.”

She reached and took their hands, and the fire welcomed her home.

The End

Notes: I really love having Asuka meet fire-based warriors. I have Plans. Not just here but for other universes as well. Hell’s Ice!Asuka is going to be fun with this. So will Firestarter!Asuka.

[leac92]

Journal #6 02/24/2019

For this week’s session in 6400, we focused a bit more on our writing drafts for the graduate fellowship competition. This week, I was not able to make much progress on my animation due to my struggles with my 3D animation course where we are creating a rig and blend shapes, a task that is still difficult for me to do. So for this journal, I will share some things I learned in my narrative theory course that relates back to my potential theory topic, as well as my progress on my graduate fellowship writing draft. 

Approach

For the narrative theory course, we had to write two essays. One as an short analytical essay and the other a statement of understanding. Here were the guidelines for the analytical essay:

 “This assignment has two parts: (1) select a segment of one of the narratives on our syllabus that we have not spent a lot of time discussing in class and do a rhetorical reading of that segment; (2) follow that analysis with a short discussion of what the close reading taught you about rhetorical theory—how it helped and/or how it inhibited your analysis.“

The second paper dealt with the understanding narrative ethics, what the medical field is doing now with that understanding and what are the best ways to solve problems with patients using the methods of narrative ethics and narrative medicine. Though, I’m still a bit confused about narrative ethics, these are just some ideas to help me understand other ways of approaching my animation narrative (such as, what kind of narrative am I aiming for? Who is my intended audience? Do I want this to help others on a mental level? Physical level?) Here are the guidelines for the second paper:

“Think of this assignment as an extension of Rita Charon's emphasis on the relation between close reading and attentive listening.  Here  the reading and listening are directed not toward a literary text but rather toward a critical text: Chapter 5 of The Principles and Practices of Narrative Medicine, "Deliver Us from Certainty: Training for Narrative Ethics." And here I offer you a more systematic protocol (see below) to guide your reading and listening.   Your task is to follow that  protocol in order to write a one-page (single-spaced) statement of your understanding of the Chapter.”

On Reconstructing Critical Arguments

The assumption of this analytic practice is that understanding a critical argument involves more than identifying and remembering someone's thesis because arguments develop in response to questions and ongoing dialogues, by means of methods of reasoning, employing certain assumptions and principles, for certain purposes.  By identifying these parts of an argument, one in effect reconstructs a critic's general framework--whether the critic is conscious of employing that framework or not.  The reconstruction, then, has the following parts.

Question/Problem. What is the central issue driving the inquiry?  What is taken for granted and what is up for grabs?  Sometimes the problem will be identified explicitly in the first couple of paragraphs--but not always.

             In, say, Stanley Fish's "Interpreting the Variorum," the question isn't really clear until you've read the whole piece.  At the beginning it looks like he's asking, "why is the commentary in the Milton Variorum inadequate?"; but after reading the whole thing, one can see that this question is subsumed by something like, "how do my disagreements with the Variorumcommentators reveal the underlying structure of literary interpretation?"

The Answer. The thesis or “paraphrasable argument,” which may or may not be stated explicitly in the essay. The answer can generally be summarized in a sentence or two--and it should be put in terms of the question.  For Fish's essay, something like "These disagreements reveal that all interpretation is actually a process of writing rather than reading.  Our interpretive assumptions cause us to ascribe to the text those properties our interpretive strategies are designed to handle.  Different interpretive communities have different assumptions and different strategies for ascribing those meanings, so interpretive disagreement can never be resolved by appealing to the text."

Method. This part of the reconstruction has two components: A. the organization and progression of the essay's argument.  What are the steps of the argument and how do they relate to each other?  What is the controlling logic that governs the choice of just these steps in this particular order?  The striking methodological choice in Fish's essay on the Variorum is the switch from the argument for "affective stylistics" to the argument for the theory of interpretive communities.  Fish starts with the case for affective stylistics because he wants to show how seductive the logic of any one interpretive community looks from the inside (perhaps--the point is that this question of method needs to be addressed).

The kinds of reasoning employed. One of Fish's main strategies is to divide and conquer.  He characteristically posits two alternatives on an issue, makes one look bad, and then argues for the other.

Principles and Assumptions. The theoretical underpinnings of the argument, either explicit or implicit. Fish believes, in his affective stylistics mode, that the process of making meaning is the meaning.  In his interpretive community mode, he maintains, among other things, that there are no facts independent of our perceptions, that only so many interpretive communities can be authorized at one time, that it is possible to escape one's commitments sufficiently to see how other people's commitments work.

Dialogics. What discourses is the essay seeking to respond to? And is the dialogical stance one of “No” (my predecessors got it wrong), “Yes, but” (there’s partial truth in their work, but they got some key things wrong), or “Yes, and” (they did some excellent work that provides the foundation for me to build on it in these ways.)  l Fish, at this point, is most concerned with the traditional formalist view that meaning lies in the text, and he is saying “No” to it (even “No! In Thunder!”).  He is also, interestingly, in dialogue with an earlier version of himself, and, toward the end of the essay, in dialogue with general discussions about intentionality and about the relations between percepts and concepts.

Purpose. The larger point or significance of the essay, the answer to the “so what?” question. The purpose can often be expressed in a form such as this: “In light of this argument, the critical conversation should change in the following ways.” In Fish's case, his purpose is to lay the groundwork for a new explanation of how interpretation works, by giving a new account of the relations among critical frameworks and primary texts.

Choices Made

Based on these guidelines for the analytical paper, I decided to choose Aristotle’s “Poetics”. I tried to break down chapter’s 1-4 and how I felt it relates to my understanding of narrative theory. Here is what I wrote:

                                                Analytical Essay

  I decided to read more upon Aristotle’s “Poetics” because the first time we discussed the book in class the first time, I’ll be completely honest, I had no idea what was going on, nor did I really understand the book. So, I decided to read a segment of the book (chapters 1-4) about imitation and found this segment to be somewhat related to my thesis topic of embodied experience. Chapters 1-4 seemed to focus heavily on imitation of narrative, rather, it be poetics, visuals, dance, music, etc. and how the imitation of art differs from the perspective of the one doing the imitation. For chapter 1, it seemed like Aristotle went on to discuss narrative in different forms and how, used upon the capacity of said form, can we create stories which imitate that which we are trying to pursue (in which case imitation of rhythm, speech and harmony (pg. 19))? I was a bit confused when he began naming writers such as Sophron (sadly, I had to look him up because I had no idea what he was talking about) and Xenarchus. Aristotle also goes on to discuss stories as elegiac poets or one-line poems. I was a bit confused when Aristotle discussed the term “latter” and “meter”. When researching the term “meter”, it meant a regular pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables that define the rhythm of some poetry. Hearing the rhythm of a words in a poem create a sort of imitation of emotions based on the word and what it describes. Going into chapter 2, it seems as if Aristotle discusses imitation of status, stating “Since those doing the imitating imitate people acting, and it is necessary that the latter be people either of serious moral stature or of a low sort (for states of character pretty much always follow these sorts of line, since all states of character differ in vice and virtue), they imitate either those better than we are or worse, or else of our sort, just as painters do. For polyglots used to make images of superior people, Pauson of inferior, and Dionysius of those like us.”(pg.21) Reading this segment of the chapter, I found it as an insight to how people try and compare their life, skills, etc. with others because of this idea society has created to divide us based on social status, wealth, and how much we have. We imitate what we wish we had in order to feel a sense of completeness and accomplishment. Chapter 3 seems to focus on imitation of the other two chapter; imitation of narrative and imitation of status. How people imitate performances of actors, which could also be interpreted as a kinesthetic empathy, or the ability to experience empathy by observing the movements of another person. Chapter 4 was the most interesting and most relatable to what I’m researching for my thesis. One segment state, “For imitating is co-natural with human beings from childhood, and in this they differ from the other animals because they are the most imitative and produce their first acts of understanding by means of imitation; also, all human beings delight in imitations.” (Pg. 22) This brings me to an idea discussed by Walter Benjamin, a German philosopher, about the term “aura”, which questions the ideas of authenticity and of a work of art in regard to the actual object in reality. How an artist may imitate that object, however, it would be considered a technical reproduction and the idea of authenticity cannot exist. I know I might be going on a tangent with this, but I find it interesting to think that although we imitate life, it cannot truly be replicated in terms of authenticity. I believe this to be the same with people. We can imitate others around us (movements, status, etc.), but at the end of the day, you cannot be that person, you can only get so far as empathizing with that person due to us imitating them. In terms of my thesis, I want to create an embodied experience or focusing a relation between one’s own body to that of another boy. To imitate through visual interpretation and narrative.

Reading these chapters, I have come to understand that rhetoric theory is more than just words, it is a language of performance, rhythm, sound, art and speech. Though I’m still a bit confused on rhetoric in general, it seems as though the use of rhetoric is a technique used to persuade through speaking or writing using certain language techniques. So, in terms of reading chapters 1-4, I found imitation is a way to use this theory, specifically in imitation of status and narrative. It also seems to deal with a relationship of a given action and executing that with an action that contrast with the given action. Such examples include “Close Call”, where the main character almost dies on several accounts, but somehow survives, only to be haunted by one death he does not witness himself, rather, his encounter with the victim causes him to feel this way. Also going back to Walter Benjamin’s idea of aura, you can draw a realistic object, but it will never exist as authentic or “real” because it is merely a replica of reality.

This had some relation to my idea of embodied experience because these chapters seemed to focus on the subject of imitation and how we as humans imitate subjects that we find suitable in expressing ourselves and emotions. This can be in words, movement, music, art, etc. That we are merely expressing reality through means of narrative form.

For the second paper, I read Rita Charon’s  The Principles and Practices of Narrative Medicine, "Deliver Us from Certainty: Training for Narrative Ethics." and responded with this statement:

                                       Statement of Understanding

 It was around summer of 2015 when I began noticing changes in my health. I struggled to run, some things I ate, it made me nauseous. I had the urge to use the bathroom more and more. Come July through August, I began feeling light headed at work, even the customers asked if I was ok. Blood. For the most part, that’s mostly what I remember from that time, was how much blood I’d lost within a month’s time. Got so bad I ended up in the emergency a few times. They finally decided to perform a colonoscopy, as I grew weaker, lost weight because I couldn’t eat. The procedure was unsuccessful, as the inflammation of my colon was too high. Around this time, I’d say about September of 2015, I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis, or U.C. for short, is a chronic inflammatory bowel disease that causes inflammation in the digestive tract. The symptoms had become so severe at this point, the level of blood I lost would have killed me had I not received a blood transfusion. I think one of the first things running through my mind at this time were, “why did this happen to me? Am can this be cured? Will I need a colposcopy bag?” This was a narrative of a new chapter in my life, something I’m still coming to terms with even after 3 years after the diagnosis. But it’s a story I want others to hear, as well as myself, because it’s a reminder that I am here, I am alive, I made it here for a reason and that I will be ok.

Arthur Frank proposes from Ricoeur’s ideas that “our very selves are perpetually recreated in stories. Stories do not simply describe the self: they are the self’s medium of being.” “Narrative account of oneself –autobiography, memoir, psychoanalytic transactions, clinical accounts, dreams, that which one tells oneself in secret, or casual tales one tells to friends–not only report one’s narrative identity but, more radically, create that which is experienced as the “self.”” (pg.110) Narrative exist from the experience of the one telling them, rather it be in a nonfiction way or in a fictitious view where reality and our imagination collide, it gives us some purpose. Not all the time, but it’s a way to organize our train of thought and recollect a moment or memory from a lifetime of memories. From my perspective of chapter 5, the question that seems to arise is, how can narrative medicine or a narrative assist with one’s situation in terms of, not much of an acceptance of situations, but rather understand of oneself and create stories that, instead give us information on a disease or issue, but rather about the patient as a whole? To understand a person is to understand the situation. Not everyone has the same issue/problem, so, understanding an someone on an individual level could help find the underlying issues that may cause patient’s issues such as death, change in lifestyle, etc. Consider narrative ethics, which is described as way of thinking about a particular patient’s situation instead of trying to fit sanctioned theories or rules to the individual case (pg.119). Within this idea, stories seem to be a way to say we’ve existed in this world and experienced things in which others have not. To create an embodied experience for others through words, visuals, movements, etc. To show their existence has/had meaning for themselves or to the world. For medical narrative, it’s a way to accept/acknowledge one’s life or situation in which that person feels they cannot escape fate. A way to escape the mind’s idea of an end, rather than a beginning. For example, as I described before, I was diagnosed with U.C. I thought this was the beginning of a painful journey. I thought my life would never be normal again (found out it never was). I would never have a normal love life and I could die from this disease, not only from my organs, but as a person in general. That this disease would be who I am, and I would no longer be me. I felt I would not escape that fate.

Based on our discussion of the chapter for Charon, I was able to come up with an answer for the principles and assumption part of the guidelines, but was not able to come up with an answer for the “Answer” and “Method” part of the guidelines, mainly because I am not familiar with the understanding of narrative ethics just yet and how to explain that in words.

After writing these, I wrote the graduate fellowship draft, and again, I only accomplished writing one part of the requirements. here is the first draft of the fellowship:

                                               Grad Fellowship Draft

 Animation is such a broad subject, trying to find out what it means, and its usage could go in to so many threads and discussions. The question now is, what does animation mean to me? What’s its purpose? Who am I directing my vision to? Who is my intended audience? What am I trying to gain? So many questions with not enough time to answer all, but enough to get my point across in terms of my own experiences in animation. Animation is a concept that has yet to be fully develop and continues to progress in areas such as film, VR, AR, health, and other forms of art. It’s aesthetically pleasing, empathetic, sympathetic, nostalgic, informative, educational. Animation to me is experience, an opportunity for others to experience myself through movement, emotions enabled the characters and even the environment that evokes the character’s moves and reactions. As stated in the Understanding Animation by Paul Wells, before the 1970s theorists essentially determined the audience as a subject, and not as a set of undifferentiated individuals and, thus, engaged with the idea of cinema as an ideological apparatus; and one which created certain structures of address which demanded than an audience recognize and participate in certain narrational codes and conventions informed by a number of discourses (i.e. political, representational, psychoanalytical etc.).[i] Based upon these ideas and theories, their focus counted for only one generalized audience member.

My goal is to expand the conversation involving animation as means to evoke eidetic memories, an ability to recall images from memory vividly after only a few instances of exposure of certain experiences from one’s past. This will be evoked by the idea of intercorporeality, or focusing on the relation between one’s bodily action (character) and that of another (audience). This in hopes to elicit a response from the audience depending on individual past experiences. Society cannot be defined by one idea of experience because of our individual thoughts and ideas, which include memories. When I think of memories, I think of past experiences, good or bad, that have culminated our growth into who we are today. However, over time, those memories are fragmented and skewed, which can easily be altered based upon the discourse of our development as we grow older. Now, this is just an assumption based on my own experiences and memories, however with this idea, I wish to prove, to some extent, that animation can bring forth a method to unlock fragment memories rather than skew them even further than they might possibly be. (NEEDS WORK)

Hand-drawn animation is a process which requires the artist to embodied themselves into the animation in order to understand the characters, environment, and the experiences the character develops within the narrative of the animation. The story of my project is based upon my own experiences of struggling with finding my identity as animator and if animation is the career path I wish to pursue. The story follows my past experiences and what caused my reluctant approach on this path, as well as my lack of confidence in my work and myself. I began the drafting stages of the animation, which focuses on the movement, camera motion and layout of the environment. (NEEDS WORK)

The focus of the project relates mostly to community (still thinking of the reason involving diverse relations, family, environment, community involving school, friends, cowrokers)

 Bibliography

[i] Wells, Paul. 1998. Pg. 222 Understanding animation.

Current Questions/ Next Steps

As stated previously, some questions I had in order for me to take the next steps in my research is, “what kind of narrative am I aiming for? Who is my intended audience? Do I want this to help others on a mental level? Physical level?” For my fellowship draft, some questions I need to consider are, “how will my project impact the community? Who is my intended audience in the community? What needs to be in my paper in terms of information about my project? How can I engage the reader about my project without boring them or confusing them about my approach?” I suppose my next steps would be to re-evaluate the structure of my paper, as well as my approach to my animation and figure out how my idea of embodied experience reflects on the animation and if the audience will respond to the film the same way I imagine them to (somewhat imitation approach).

[lilbooktopus]

A Court of Thorns and Roses

Author: Sarah J. Maas Synopsis: The huntress Feyre is taken to Prythian as punishment for breaking The Treaty and slaying a faerie in a wolf's skin. She is given freedom to roam within the gates of the manor, but not to return to her family and home. The longer she stays in the manor of her captor Tamlin, the deeper she falls in love with the masked fae. Outside Tamlin's walls, the kingdom that lies north of the human realm is a land tormented with a curse, a shadow that leeched the magic of its inhabitants and set dark creatures dangerously close to the human borders. Feyre must break the spell or watch everything she loves fall into its doom.A Court of Thorns and Roses is a retelling of the Beauty and the Beast.

First Impression: ACOTAR is told in first person POV and we get Feyre to narrate everything to us. I'm not a fan of first person POV but I thought the first four chapters were okay until I felt they were going too slow. And that's where things started to go downhill. 

Book Talk

Meet Feyre, a huntress whose only motivation in life is her family who treats her badly despite being their sole provider in this hard winter and her hobby painting. She gets whisked away to faerie land by a not-so-obviously handsome masked high fae as a punishment for killing one of their kind. In Prythian, she lives a life of absolutely zero consequences for reasons revealed in the last part of the book, if you manage to hang on long enough.

Feyre is a sad excuse for a heroine. She's petty (don't let her hear you say 'ignorant' and 'insignificant'; she'll think you're talking about her and mope, or find a creature that could kill her), and goes beyond the usual amount of recklessness and stupidity YA main characters have, the likes of which has never been seen since Bella Swan's cliff dive.  She'll do the exact opposite of anything you say will keep her safe and manage to stay alive long enough for an alpha-male to come to her rescue.

ACOTAR is a book that kept me thinking who the bigger douche is, Tamlin or Rhysand, and watch Feyre mistake abusive behavior for protectiveness and kindness over and over again as she tries to break the most specific curse in the history of magic casted by the most underwhelming villain I've ever seen. I got frustrated watching Feyre complete everyone's sentence with "insignificant human", describe things with "I can/not paint it", wait to be invited to faerie parties she had no business being in, fail to answer the easiest riddle in the history of riddles, and basically make the worst decisions ever without having to face any consequence.

It took a dull 275 pages and 31 chapters of Feyre's whining, hating faeries, and inexplicably falling in love with faeries enough to sacrifice her life for her High Lord (haha yes, that's a thing!) before any semblance of a plot became apparent and by then the only things keeping me hanging on were sheer will, moral support from friends, and the fact that I bought all three books already and doomed myself to this fate. If you ever find yourself in the same position, the only way to get through it is by telling yourself there must be an explanation somewhere. Explanation, never a justification.

PS. Lucien is the character I liked the most and I love the Suriel (a veiled faerie with features scary enough that Feyre will probably say she won't be able to paint).

World-building: ★★☆☆☆ Characters: ★★☆☆☆ Plot: ★☆☆☆☆

(Click read more if you’re prepared for a long ass review. You have been warned.)

Book Talk

Let's start with the things I loved. Let it not be said that I loved nothing in this book because if I am to be completely honest, I did.

Side characters I loved Lucien, Tamlin's friend and emissary. He's the life of the book for me, the person that makes most sense. Just your regular slightly-arrogant fae, but not really out-of-line. He has a witty response for everything and will never tire of reminding our MC how to keep herself alive, although he's always ignored. Plus, interesting backstory.

Alis, another fae serving the Spring Court, who is Feyre's handmaid. She gives Feyre some bits of advice throughout her stay in the manor, to keep the new girl alive… if only Feyre would listen.

Creatures Above all, I loved the assortment of faeries roaming Prythian, especially the Suriel, a faerie that could answer all your questions. Feyre's encounter with the Suriel is my favorite event, more because of the Suriel than Feyre's presence. I liked how eerie it felt to read of this faerie, yet feel responsible for its safety.

Things I loathed about this book:

Plot (or the lack of it) There is basically no plot. The only part that matters is the events Under the Mountain. The rest of the book talks about: 1. Feyre thinking she is worthless, useless, ignorant human 2. Feyre painting, Feyre failing to paint something 3. Feyre worrying about her family 4. Feyre-Tamlin inexplicable "romance" 5. Feyre being stupid and running to random dangerous things Only around 150 pages matter here, which could be found at the last part. The events Under the Mountain are the most exciting too, if you manage to hang around that long. Tip: Just tell yourself it would get better. It won't ever be good, but it will get better.

Writing I just hated Sarah J. Maas's writing. For one, SJM abused dashes and adjectives. I'm daring you to find at least two consecutive pages without a dash in it. She uses three adjectives on something that could be described with one.

Another thing I despised was Feyre constantly bleating about her painting. Her hobby is used to describe both her mood and her surroundings. She's sad: she can't paint. Something is too beautiful: she can't paint it. How the heck is "It's so beautiful I wouldn't be able to paint it" supposed to make me understand how a place looked like?

Third thing I hate is how easy information comes to Feyre in the form of characters in the know spout these info while they monologue. Tamlin spilled Lucien's backstory to her, Alis talked about the curse, Rhysand explained his motives and whatnot. It's so lazy on SJM's part.  

The Most Boring, Annoying MC since Bella Swan I have never hated an MC this much since Bella Swan. Feyre is presented to us as a badass huntress, the sole caretaker of her family in this hard winter. She endures her spineless father and ungrateful sisters, slaves for them and keeps them alive. Basically, they are bitching on the only reason their family hasn't starved to death yet. I would have pitied her if only she weren't such a martyr.

This girl is one giant walking trope. She constantly thinks she is plain and not beautiful, how hunger made her bony, how her cheekbones are too sharp. Basically an attempt to make her more relatable which doesn't really work because she's the one narrating the story so we hear her whining and then hear everyone else tell her otherwise and want her/lust after her.

Feyre sees her worth through the eyes of others: a. How her family needs her before and doesn't need her now that they are provided for by Tamlin, b. How the faeries perceive her. She is petty enough to take one snide remark to heart and repeat it to herself over and over again. Here's a few of my favorite (there's a really long list):

1. Insignificant - yes, I was insignificant to their lives, their power. As insignificant as the fading chipped designs I'd painted around the cottage. (pg. 66) 2. I could still cling to that scrap of a dream, though these High Faes are likely to laugh at how typically human it was to think so small, so little. (pg. 78) 3. You mean a faerie is passing up the opportunity to mock an ignorant mortal. (pg. 117, when Tamlin offered to help her) 4. I'd stop asking, just as the Suriel had ordered. Like a stupid, useless human. (p. 170) 5. I was an ignorant human fool. (p. 367) That said, I am very much annoyed with her constant whining about how useless the faeries think she is, snapping at anyone who mentions she has a flaw. Apart from that, she hates how no one seems to trust her (although she doesn't trust faeries herself), how she's not privy to their decision-making, and surprise: how she's not invited to parties.

1. As if I were at the very, very bottom of a long list of priorities. (pg. 106) 2. Perhaps it was contained but it seemed it was still wreaking havoc - still a threat - and perhaps one they truly didn't want me knowing about, either from lack or trust or because… because I was nothing to them. (pg. 108)

So what if she's petty and very much presumptuous? That's not enough to hate her! Brace yourselves because Feyre is also that kind of heroine who has a death wish. She deliberately disobeys any orders which were set for her own safety. Okay, so what if she's reckless? Right! If only she could save her own hide but sadly, she could not. Every freaking time she heads out, either because of curiosity or spite, she puts herself in a dangerous situation she could not get out of until a male savior comes to her rescue.

Under the care of these faes, Feyre lives a life of zero consequence, never gets reprimanded earnestly because… you'll find out if you could hang around long enough to reach 75% of the novel. And even then I felt like I was being cheated because it's so lame that Feyre could do nothing wrong or if she does, no one will lift a hand because everyone is looking to her to break the spell that's on them. It's a very convenient way for the author to slink out of the responsibility to keep her MC in check. Feyre being reckless to the point of almost killing herself doesn't make her brave or endearing; it makes her stupid.

Here's another attempt to make her more relatable: giving her a very ordinary hobby which is painting. More about this on Writing.

Problematic Relationships

This book is riddled with red flags for me, problematic relationships and power imbalance. Feyre is tossed into a world dominated by powerful males, high lords and such, and she is a powerless human forced to blend in. She is forced into desperate situations she could not get out of without the help of said males like Tamlin and Rhysand. I felt like Feyre is often exploited, reduced to a plaything, and she could do nothing but to accept it. Problematic relationships are okay only if these instances were not romanticized and are presented as problematic indeed, not like how Feyre saw these as sweet, sexy, kind, or supportive.

Tamlin "Do not disobey me ever again." My favorite Tamlin quote. Tamlin is presented as this high lord, noble and fair, probably handsome behind the mask (No, the mask didn't really do anything to diminish his effect on women). And he would not explain anything to Feyre and would constantly growl and unsheathe his claws, and lengthen her canines at her. Cursed or not, he's a too-dominating, overprotective, suffocating ass of a fae.

An example of which is Fire Night, where Tamlin tells Feyre to lock herself in or else, when he becomes possessed later in the night, he might come to her and force himself on her. Feyre was thrilled and thought, "A feral part of him wanted me." Yes, if she didn't stay in, he would rape her and it would be her fault. When the douche of a guy comes home, he pins Feyre against the wall and kisses and bites her neck despite her protests which, no matter how half-hearted they are, are still to be taken as NO. And when she tells him not to do that ever again, the damned fae just chuckles. Next day, he justifies biting her neck because she disobeyed him despite his orders, saying "If Feyre can’t be bothered to listen to orders, then I can't be held accountable for the consequences."

Rhysand Rhysand, on the other hand, was marketed as this bad boy whatever. He's just a douche. No matter what his ulterior motives were, I felt like he went overboard and did unnecessary stuff that the author wanted readers to swallow as sexy. Rhysand would make Feyre do/do everything to Feyre without her permission, invading her mind and body.

Later in the book, Rhysand abuses her both verbally and physically, making her dress in clothes she's uncomfortable in, insulting her, intoxicating her and making her dance for him in front of people while he touches her and makes her sit on his lap. He laughs at Feyre's pain when he was checking her injured arm which is totally unnecessary - you can't say it's because he's playing a role here - because no one was there to see. When he comes to her in the night to lick her tears and insult her more, she thinks that Rhysand had kept her from shattering completely. It's really worse when Rhysand reveals he didn't need the one-week-a-month deal to heal her arm. He was hurting her for fun.

Romance I'd be hard-pressed to tell you how Feyre and Tamlin fell in love with each other, so much that Feyre was so ready to let go of her anger towards faeries and throw her life away for him. In the absence of an actual showcase of their hearts jiving together, we just get SJM telling us that they're in love. Or Feyre was very much attracted to this sad, brooding lord, whose tan skin and perfect eyes call to her, whose touch makes her skin burn.

Villain/Curse I was so disappointed by the villain of this novel and the curse this notorious she laid on the land. It was so underwhelming that I nearly melted into a puddle. Amarantha, the she so evil, so powerful, that they would not mention her name is not worth all the fuss they're giving her.

First, her curse is the stupidest curse ever. I mean, you expect a mask to hide Tamlin's beauty to prevent people from falling in love with him? Did it stop Feyre from assuming he's beautiful? Did it stop her from noticing his tanned skin, his muscles, which she was soooo attracted to?

Anyway, the curse was so damn specific that it sucked. It super duper sucked.

Oh and did I mention about the easy way out Amarantha gave Feyre? Okay, defend it all you want and say the evil queen did that because she underestimates humans so much but it was so ridiculous I answered it by the second line. For a quicker way out, she should have at least made it more difficult than that.

Final Verdict:

This book gave me the biggest headache of all time, especially the final chapters where the strength of my mind was tested. I hate this book with a burning passion but I will read on because I already bought all three books and it would be a waste of money to burn them. From a lame MC, abusive alpha-males, underwhelming villains, and a non-existent plot, this book will give Twilight a run for its money. 

Rating: ★★☆☆☆ (2 out of 5)

[buffyfan145]

Somebody Like You 3/?

Fandom: Victoria, Vicbourne

Characters: Queen Victoria, Lord Melbourne, Emma Portman, Dash, Nancy Skerrett, Charles Francatelli, Prince Albert, Prince Ernest, Duchess of Kent/Victoria’s mom, Robert Peel, various other characters from the show & real life, and new characters created for the story.

Rating: PG

Summary: Modern day teacher AU. Victoria is a young English teacher facing her first year of full time work. After making friends with the staff, she comes to rely on William Melbourne, the head of History department, and the teacher across the hall for advice and wisdom as their departments work closely together with the senior class.  As the two grow close feelings start to emerge which complicates various parts of their lives. Will they act on their feelings or choose to do what each thinks is best? Title from the Keith Urban song.

Ch. 1, 2

Author’s Note: This chapter I took some risks and changed some of Melbourne's and Victoria's backstories while also introducing a new character.  Some of it is because of "The Young Victoria" film and another is based off this being set in modern times. I have another note at the end explaining more.

Chapter 3

The first couple of weeks of school went well for Victoria.  Maybe it was her being young, but she seemed to easily have the teenagers' attention when she addressed them and went about her lectures   The seniors even more so as they were only five to six years younger than her.  Of course there were a few students who were having trouble, but Victoria hoped she would be able to reach them through their writing assignments or the novels they were going to read.

She also quickly made friends with Nancy the most of the other teachers, besides Emma.  They were also the same age and actually had a lot in common.  Victoria and Nancy usually ate lunch together and talked about various things in the teachers lounge.  It turned out one of the like skills/cooking teachers, Charles Francatelli had been trying to win over Nancy, but she so far hadn't accepted any of his proposed dates.  Victoria was amused by this and actually noticed her friend's looks whenever Charles would talk to them and could tell there was something there.  She set her mind to help out somehow.

As promised both Emma and William had been very helpful so far and getting each other to coordinate their lesson plans for the senior class.  William encouraged Victoria not to go exactly by Emma's ways but to try her own.  So far it seemed to be working. 

For almost a month Victoria had been having after school meetings with William twice a week.  They discussed what was happening in their classes, and at times he would ask her how she was doing as well as offering little pieces of advice.  William was very kind to her, as well as actually listening to her, and that stuck out to her the most as most men her own age weren't like this.

That Wednesday after school let out Victoria straightened her things and headed across the hall to William's room.  She liked how it was set up as he had an actual podium he used for the debate portions of his government class, and various pictures of Presidents and Prime Ministers from history as well as an actual globe which seemed vintage these days.  That day however, some else was in the room.

A young girl, maybe about eleven or twelve-years-old, was working on what seemed like an assignment at one of the desks.  A science textbook was open before the girl and she was writing on a piece of paper.  The girl looked up almost shocked when Victoria entered the room.

"I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's ok."  The girl replied with a smile.  "You must be Miss Windsor.  Dad told me you usually meet today."

Dad?  Victoria thought for a moment but then it dawned on her as she took in the girl's long, curly light brown hair and similar green eyes.  "You're William's daughter?"

The girl nodded. "I'm Kaitlin."

So far he hadn't mentioned anything about being a father, so that was a surprise to Victoria but a nice surprise.  "It's nice to meet you.  What grade are you in?"

"Seventh.  I'm working on this chapter for science, but I'm almost done.  Then I'll be able to hang out with Emma's daughter Bonnie."  Kaitlin explained.

"Do you usually come here?" Victoria asked as she sat at another desk.

Kaitlin spoke as she still worked.  "Sometimes.  Usually Bonnie's dad picks us up from school but he has to stay longer at his job at times, so we come here after school since we get out before the high school does."

That explained another reason how William and Emma were close with their daughters being friends.  They sat in silence for a moment as Victoria marveled at seeing William's daughter when he finally entered the room.

"Is the assignment done?"  William asked with his hands behind his back.

Kaitlin closed the book and showed her father the paper.  "All done."

"That's my girl."  He kissed the top of her head.  "Also you can take these to Bonnie.  They're from Mr. Francatelli."  He handed his daughter a plate of cookies.

Kaitlin jumped up and took the plate from him.  "Thanks Dad!"  She then hurried out of the room to go to Emma's.

William chuckled and then turned to Victoria.  "Hello Victoria.  Seems you met my daughter."

"She's lovely."  Victoria smiled.  "How come you haven't told me about her yet?"

He took a seat at his desk as she got up to sit at her usual chair next to it.  "It's just never come up yet but now you know.  Also, I saved us some."  He then took out a napkin of cookies.

"She looks so much like you."  Victoria said as she took one of the cookies and ate it.

"I've heard that before, but she does have some of her mother in her.  At least the good parts."  He said with a slight sadness to it.

Victoria worded carefully what she asked next.  "Is her mother not around?"

He looked a bit out the window as he spoke.  "She passed away a few years ago, as did our son."

"I'm so sorry William."  Victoria said sadly and sorry she asked.

William must have noticed.  "It's alright you asked.  She wasn't always that well mentally and physically, and my son August was sickly from a condition he was born with.  I'm just thankful for Kaitlin as I'd don't know what I'd do without her."

"I kind of understand though.  My father died when I was a baby, so I never knew him, but my mother and I don't really have a relationship either."  She admitted.

His eyes softened as he listened.  "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I do have wonderful aunts and uncles though that stepped in to help raise me after my mom married a horrible man."  She didn't want to talk about him, so she changed the subject.  "My aunt Addie is the closest thing I have to a mom and she's great."

He took ahold of her hand, which surprised Victoria but she liked the contact.  "I'm glad you're in a better part of your life."

She met his smile with her own.  "I could say the same about you."

He squeezed her hand before letting go to turn on his laptop.  "Now where were we with this meeting?"

Author's Note 2: I decided while thinking of this fic to give Melbourne a daughter.  I saw from things I read about him that Melbourne and Caro did have a daughter that was born prematurely but didn't survive.  She was 2 years younger than Augustus.  Nowadays there's much better odds for premature babies surviving, and I know first hand as I was a premature baby born 6 weeks early myself.  Thankfully I was further developed than the doctors thought so I only had to stay in the hospital for a week.  So setting this in modern times increases the odds their daughter survived so I added her in.  I thought Melbourne's backstory was so sad and wanted to give him one of his children surviving, as well as have Victoria see him as a dad and give her a chance to be there for a young girl.  Also I loved Victoria's aunt in "The Young Victoria" and was sad to see the show didn't include her so I added her back in. :)

[songtoyou]

Chapter Two: Never Enough

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC) 

Rating: PG to PG-13 (Might be 18+ for some chapters)

Description: There was always one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to communicate with one another openly but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation. However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either is willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Rating: PG with mild swearing

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,630

Author’s Note: I hoped those who ‘liked’ the previous chapter enjoys this one as well. I went back and made one little change in the first chapter. No longer is Raina a fan of the Seattle Mariners or Seattle Seahawks, but a Mets/Giants fan. Instead of having Raina grow up in Washington State, she grew up in New York on Long Island. It just made more sense location-wise for her to “closer” to Chris. I also changed something that happened during the summer of 2016 that involved another MCU actor. Let me know what you think. Feedback is always welcomed.

Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans or anyone in his family, and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms. 

Thank you to @southerngracela​ for your support! :)

*Updated for grammar edits.

July 2019

"Christopher Robert Evans! Come here!" yelled his mother, Lisa Evans.

"What, Ma?" Chris asked when he entered her kitchen and replied, "Whatever happened? I assure you that it was Scott who did it."

"Would you stop? You aren't in trouble. Sit down for a sec." Lisa told her oldest son. 

Taking a seat at the kitchen table next to his mother, Chris asked, "Why are you on the laptop? You hate using the computer."

"I do, but you need to send Raina some flowers to celebrate her big opening night on Broadway. You were planning on getting her something, right?" inquired Lisa as she turned the laptop over to Chris for him to look through different flower arrangements. 

"Uh…I don't know, Ma. I am sure you will pick out something great."

Lisa gave Chris a knowing look and said, "Chris, you spend more time with Raina than the rest of us. You know her likes and dislikes. Now come on, look at the arrangements and pick which one she would like best."

Chris groaned and turned away from his mother to roll his eyes. His mother's behavior was not unusual to always insinuate that Raina was more than a friend to Chris. Well, she was, but that did not mean his mother had to know all of the dirty details. Despite what people might think of the confessed mama's boy, Chris did not always share everything with Lisa.  

"Don't get her flowers…" Chris began, but Lisa cut him off.

"Chris! Why not?"

"It would be better to get Raina chocolate, cookies, or brownies. Something edible. Just not cupcakes because she doesn't like them. Call them overrated. Trust me. She'd prefer to have food over flowers," informed Chris.

"Great. You choose something for Raina while I give Carly a call. Choose something good," Lisa ordered as she got up from the table and exited the kitchen. 

As Chris perused the website's items, he knew what to get Raina when he saw the object: a personalized gigantic caramel toffee fortune cookie. It was perfect. Not only was it giant, but it was dipped in decadent caramel with fatty toffee bits sprinkled on top and drizzled with dark chocolate. Raina would love it. 

"Ma! Come here and look at this! What do you think?"

Lisa entered the kitchen once again. She was still talking on the phone with Carly.

"Chris, whatever you get, Raina, it will be great."

"What should I put on the card since it is from all of us?" asked Chris with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"No. Just have it be from you. Scott and I already picked out a nice flower arrangement from the two of us for Raina," Lisa informed Chris nonchalantly and added, "Carly is wondering if you could watch the kids this weekend?"

Chris was amazed at his mother's crafty scheme. She had that way about her. 

"I'll text her that it isn't a problem, and I know what you are doing."

Lisa feigned an innocent look. "What are you talking about?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out an exasperated sigh, Chris said, "Ma, it isn't like that with Raina, okay. We are just friends. Nothing more. We can't be anything more. It would ruin what we have already. Plus, we both don't necessarily want the same things. She has shared with me that she doesn't see herself having kids. I want kids, someday." 

Lisa put her hands up in mock defeat. She was not going to press Chris press about his hidden feelings for Raina. He was an adult, after all. However, as a mother, it was hard not to step in and help her children no matter what they were dealing with at the time. 

"Just be sure to write something heartfelt and sweet in the gift message," ordered Lisa and got up once again left the kitchen.

Now alone, Chris looked over the textbox space to put his message for Raina's gift. He typed and retyped what to write to her. Taking a deep breath, Chris let his inhibitions go and proceeded to write honestly about how he felt.

Raina,

You bring so much joy and love to my existence. I know it would not be the same If I did not have you in my life. You help keep me centered in this crazy world of ours, and I always know I can count on you if I need anything. I am so proud of you. Your determination, hard work, and motivation in achieving your dreams have always inspired me. Sometimes I wished you could see yourself through my eyes because then you would realize how special you are to me. I hope you know much. I appreciate and love you so much.

Love,

Chris

With the gift now ordered and soon to be on its way, there was no going back. 

"1, 2, 3, and 4! Turn! Kick leg up! Cross and dip!" shouted the choreographer and added, "Let's do it again from the top!"

Trying to catch her breath, Raina got back into position next to her co-star, Aaron Tveit. The two have been working on this project for the past three years. It amazed them both how everything started at a workshop lab, to a small theater production in Boston, to debut the show on Broadway. It was a dream come true for everyone involved. 

For Raina, it was a check-off on her list of career accomplishments. While Raina had been offered different roles for Broadway productions in the past, she never accepted the offers. She was either too busy promoting and touring for her albums. Or the parts offered merely did not appeal to her. Raina was cautious about particular projects and took her time in making decisions on which to pursue or decline. That would often lead to arguments with people at her record company or management as one or the other would tell Raina that she was not reaching her full potential as a star. But the Long Island native never wanted to be "famous for being famous." She was not the type to freely give out information about her private life to maintain relevancy with the press or fans. She wanted her work to speak for itself.  

A child prodigy gifted in music, Raina has set her sights on impacting the world through song. Her parents, George and Marie, often worried about the precocious little girl when she would hold herself up in her room for hours and hours a day practicing on her guitar or keyboard while jotting down lyrics.

When Raina was 14 years old, she was discovered by her first manager, Jerry Sullivan, at the annual New York State Fair. Jerry was taken aback by the young girl's mature voice as she sang Reba McEntire's classic hits, "Why Haven't I Heard from You" and "Fancy." He immediately introduced himself to Raina and her parents.

Although skeptical, both George and Marie agreed to a formal meeting with Jerry to discuss their daughter's future. After all, they did not want their only child to get screwed over by some conman. Thankfully, Jerry turned out to be legit and had been in the music industry for 20 years as an artists and repertoire (A&R) personnel at Columbia Records.

"Not many talented singers I have seen in all my years in the music have what Raina has. She has 'it' and could go far," said Jerry.

"Oh, I don't want to be famous," little Raina spoke up and continued, "I just want to make music."

Jerry just beamed with happiness, "That is a great answer, little one. You have your priorities. That is important in this industry. You don't ever want to lose sight of why you started in the first place."

"Trust me, I won't," replied Raina with a toothy smile.

Unfortunately, it was hard to remain authentic in the music industry. Too many times, someone would try to mold Raina into who they thought she should be. She never wanted to be placed in a box or confined to one style of music. All Raina ever wanted to be was Raina.

"1, 2, 3, and 4! Turn! Kick leg up! Cross and dip!" repeated the choreographer, "Great job, everyone. Let us take a ten-minute break. Raina and Aaron, they need another costume fitting."

"I swear, I am at a point where I could do the choreography in my sleep," Aaron joked as he walked with Raina to the fitting area.

Raina let out a chuckle, "Isn't that the truth."

With rehearsals finally coming to an end for the day, Raina gathered her belongings, said her goodbyes, and headed home. Thankfully, her Tribeca apartment was only 15 minutes away from the Al Hirschfeld Theatre. Frank, Raina's driver, greeted her as he opened the black Cadillac Escalade's back door.

"How were rehearsals today, Miss Raina?" 

"Not too bad," Raina shared with her driver, "I think once the show is finally open to the public, everything will be…a lot easier to handle."

"You're going to be great. The previews of the show went very well, as you mentioned," Frank reminded Raina and asked, "Who you got coming to see you on opening night? I'm taking my wife and youngest daughter to see it before she heads off to school in late August."

It was not uncommon for Frank and Raina to have an easy rapport with one another. Frank was a talker, while Raina was quieter and preferred to listen to his stories about growing up in Queens or his family that consisted of a loving wife and three daughters. Despite enjoying Frank's company, Raina knew that she still had to keep herself wary and not allow herself to be caught off guard. Sadly, her past experiences when allowing others into her world, both private and public, left her feeling burned. Raina learned how to be a master at changing the subject from herself to the other person prying into her personal life. 

"Aw! That is wonderful. Where is Alisha headed off to again? Cornell?" asked Raina while thinking, 'Hook line and sinker.'

"Brown University in Providence. Got a full academic scholarship."

"That's wonderful. At least your daughter won't be too far from home. I kind of wish I went to college but never had the time with everything else going on."

"Oh, come on now. I'd say you turned out well. Not everyone needs to go to college to be successful. With Alisha, she always had her sights on pursuing a career in archaeology. By attending Brown, she will have access to the best research and educators the country has to offer."

"Well, if she is anything like her father, then she's got the charms to take the world by storm."

When Frank finally reached the building of Raina's apartment, he proceeded to step out to open her door, but she stopped him and said, "I got it, Frank."

"You sure?" he questioned. 

"Yeah. Tell your wife and daughter I said 'hello.' Bye, Frank. See you tomorrow."

"Okay. Have a nice night, Raina."

Upon entering the apartment building, Raina was greeted by the concierge, Winston.

"Hi, Winston. How are you?" asked Raina to make polite conversation as she strode into the lobby.

"Very well, ma'am. Thank you for asking."

Raina cringed at being referred to as "ma'am" despite being two-decades younger than Winston; however, she knew he was only polite and professional. Stopping by to check her mail at the cluster of mailboxes, there was only advertisements and bills. Closing the mailbox with a loud sigh, Raina walked towards the elevator to head up to her penthouse apartment. 

The Tribeca apartment was such a great find as the penthouse had its own intimate and homey feel. The condo's main floor greeted guests with an open space kitchen-living room area with a fireplace and powder room. Floor-to-ceiling arched windows dominated the living room, allowing natural light to seep through in the morning and afternoon. Overall, it was ample space for when Raina wanted to entertain her close friends. She was able to accommodate overnight guest stays with two sky-lighted bedrooms with one main bathroom. One floor up was where the master suite was located with floor-to-ceiling French doors that led to a landscaped terrace that included a hot tub, outdoor kitchen, along with fantastic sunset and nighttime views of the Tribeca skyline. 

It was a place where Raina felt at home and safe from the prying eyes of the paparazzi or overzealous admirers. Thankfully, the majority of Raina's fans respected her privacy and knew the importance of boundaries.

Unfortunately, only Raina's name was associated with fellow celebrities that things could get out of hand and overrun with speculations. For instance, in the early years of her friendship with Chris, both fandoms speculated if they were more than friends. Whereas with the media, they were relentless in their prying for more information about the two stars. Luckily, it was a dilemma that the two friends worked hard to overcome. The bond that grew between Chris and Raina was not something either experienced with other people. It was unique in how relatively normal both felt around each other. There were no pretenses the friends had to follow or any egos getting in the way. 

Sad that the same could not have been applied to Raina's last relationship. The media scrutiny and the online abuse/harassment from the actor's fanbase became too much for Raina to handle that she eventually had to end the relationship prematurely. It was not something that she wanted to do as she cared for the man very much. He was sweet, charming, handsome, and treated Raina with respect. He became someone Raina could confide in outside of her inner circle. She was lucky to have met him at President Barack Obama's final White House Correspondents' Dinner back in April 2016. 

'What might have been? Where would my life be if I had stayed with Tom?' Raina often thought.

After taking a quick shower, Raina changed into baggy sweats and a fitted tank top. Stretching out on the couch, she searched through Netflix and selected season five of Schitt's Creek to watch. It was her go-to show that she liked to watch at the end of the day. The crazy antics of the Rose family always helped her relax and ease her anxious mind. 

"Oh, David Rose, you are a precious little bean, wrapped in uncertainty and apprehension about the world, aren't you? I connect with you on a spiritual level," Raina commented to herself.  

Chris was a bag of nerves ever since he ordered Raina that gift. It was not so much the gift that was causing him to have anxiety, but the message inside the present. 

He let it all out in that gift message and was mostly worried about what Raina would make of his words. For instance, would she read them and express the same sentiment, revealing that Chris's feelings were more profound than mere friends. However, what if Chris's words caused her to be upset and that she would not be able to return his feelings in fear of losing their friendship. 

'Or she just doesn't love you the way you might want her to,' thought Chris apprehensively.  

Now, Chris was beginning to worry that he might have overstepped his boundaries with Raina. 'Why did you have to go and develop deeper feelings for her. I knew our whole friends with benefits wasn't a good idea. 

Nothing good ever comes from that arrangement,' he scolded himself while taking Dodger out for a walk on his property. Chris hoped that the cool night air would help relieve the tension and worry he was feeling. It was either a walk or a cigarette, and he promised both his mother and Raina that he would no longer partake in the nasty habit. 

The dynamic of Chris and Raina's friendship was a unique one. She was one of the very few that Chris allowed in his world. Over the years, Raina had become acquainted with his close friends from Massachusetts and individual family members outside of his mother, father, brother, and sisters. It was not unusual for Raina to attend one of his Uncle Mike's campaign rallies. That always got the fans on social media talking and wondering if there was something more than friendship between the two. 

Chris and Raina's responses were always the same, "We are just friends." It was their go-to answer for years.

It was not until mid-2014 when they decided to add a new element to their friendship: sex. 

What started as a fun hookup turned into a full-fledged agreement. For Chris, it was liberating to be with someone sexually with no strings attached. For Raina, she felt safe and comfortable with Chris. There was genuine respect and trust the two had for one another that when sex added to the mix, it did not cause a lot of complications, surprisingly. They took the time to set guidelines and go over expectations that both could abide by and not ruin the aspect of their friendship. 

Their guidelines included:

Be transparent with one another as possible. Be open to compromises.

Be open to communicating with your partner.

Never be judgmental.

Be open about what is off-limits and what is acceptable. 

Conversations or decisions cannot be one-sided.

Make sure each partner is on the same page.

Check-in with one another. Ask each other about how things are going and how the individual is feeling about the arrangement.

Develop a PR strategy for when friends or family members ask questions about the status of your relationship.

Ground rules: staying over is optional, breakfast in the morning is acceptable, no booty calls as it demeans the overall friendship, and friend-dates are suitable.

Even when Chris was in a serious relationship with Minka or Jenny, he could revert to his non-sexual friendship with Raina. Chris never quite understood how Raina could adapt so quickly whenever he had a new romantic partner. He honestly would not know how he would react if Raina showed up one day with a boyfriend on her arm. 

'Liar! You'd flip your shit!' Chris thought, which he did when Raina was rumored to be dating fellow MCU actor Tom Hiddleston back in 2016. Both had been photographed together numerous times during outings and events.

'Six-months of Hell,' Chris bitterly referred that time. 

The crazy thing about that time is that Raina did not share anything with him about her relationship with Tom. She kept it all to herself even after they broke up. 

"Why does she keep that part of her life secret from me?" Chris asked himself as he walked up the steps on his front porch with Dodger following suit.

"Because it is none of your business how Raina's relationships go down," a voice spoke up, startling Chris.

"Holy shit, Scott! What the fuck are you doing out here?" yelled Chris as he stood in front of his little brother. 

Scott replied with a shit-eating grin on his face, "Just getting some fresh air and enjoying the sunset. What have you been up to?"

"Don't change the subject. Why do you automatically assume I am talking about Raina? For all you know, I could have been referring to Shanna," Chris retorted back defiantly as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the porch railing. 

However, Scott was not falling for what his brother was trying to sell. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Chris," Scott reprimanded and continued, "I know you and Raina have had a friend with benefits situation going on for the last five years. Of course, only when neither of you was in relationships with other people, that is."

"How the fuck did you know about that?" questioned Chris. His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

"Well, I had my speculations, but your reaction just now confirmed everything. What the fuck were thinking. Nothing good comes out of a friend with benefits relationship. Hell, I could have told you that while also saving you the eventual heartbreak that will eventually happen. So again, I ask, what the fuck were you thinking?" 

Letting out a huge sigh, Chris moved to sit next to Scott on the porch swing. "I was thinking…that this is someone who I love and care about, you know. At first, the arrangement was, I don't want to say that it was just for fun. With Raina, it felt like a natural progression for our friendship. I don't know. I guess maybe…"

"You hoped that it could turn into something more down the road," Scott finished for his brother. 

"Yeah. I felt we were getting to that point, but Raina kept pulling back, you know. Like, she was too scared to move in that direction with me,' Chris confessed as he leaned back on the porch swing. 

Scott continued to stare at Chris as he contemplated what to say next. He felt terrible for his older brother and realized Chris's dilemma.

"I wish I could give you some sage advice, but honestly, I am at a loss on what you should do. Raina is special to you. To all of us. But, no one can deny that she has always had a little hold on your heart. The sad thing is that I don't think the poor thing fully understands the effect she has on you. All I can say is to tread carefully. Don't do anything rash," advised Scott and got up to go into the house.

'Too late.' Chris thought to himself. 

"Fuck it! I need a cigarette." 

[flowerpowell]

Second Chances (Drake x MC / Liam x MC)

Part Seven

I’m sorry it took me so long to post this part! I was super busy with everything and I didn’t have time or inspiration to write at all. There’s only (most likely) one chapter left so I hope it’ll take me less time than this one. I hope you’ll like it and as always, feedback is very appreciated!!

All rights go to Pixelberry.

Rating: PG-16 (metions of gun violence, blood etc)

Word count: 2612

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn @speedyoperarascalparty @agent-bossypants @museofbooks @jyreusser85 @journeytohomesworld @walkerismychoice @walkerduchess @confessionsofabrokegirl @catlady0911 @furiousherringoperatortoad @littlegreenmoo @mysteli @butindeed @gardeningourmet @hopefulmoonobject @sleepwalkingelite @eileendannie @beautifulobsessionforpink @bobasheebaby @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @boneandfur @damienswhore @mynameiskaylabella @delightfullypinkglitter @mr-sinclaire @topsyturvy-dream @blackcatkita @damiensmatch @whatmcsaid @sstee1 @mrsernestsinclaire @lordberg @barbaravalentino @itstaygs @umccall71 @wannabemc2 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @marywrites-things @moneyfordiamonds @annekebbphotography @zaffrenotes @hrhdes @tacohead13 @ao719 @dancetothestoriesinyoursoul  @jlouise88 ♥

PLEASE READ BEFORE:

Tumblr tag notifications suck. I don’t get some and I know some people don’t get mine. That’s why, please make sure you read previous part before (you can find it HERE) as this chapter probably won’t make any sense without reading the previous one. ALSO, I’m gonna tag both, here and in the comments, just in case, so forgive me if you’ll get more notications. 

Three hours after Riley arrived in Valtoria, she was still in her bed trying to rethink everything that happened within the last 24 hours. I don’t remember. He asked me for one day, but his plan failed. I still can’t rememeber. It’s not my fault. I don’t remember being in love with Drake. So why does it hurt so much?

Riley turned again in her bed. She had been trying to fall asleep for hours, futilely. Her mind wandered back to Drake; their little tour, his laugh, the way he looked at her. UGH! What is wrong with me?? I like Drake but I don’t have any romantic feelings for him... right?

She turned again...and again and again. Nothing helped. Her heart was beating too fast at the thought of Drake’s face when she told him she didn’t remember. She had never seen a face which looked sadder than that, so disappointed, so lost. He didn’t even try to argue, she saw him swallowing hard and forcing a smile on his face. And then he wished her happiness and disappeared before she could say or do anything else.

But even if...what was she supposed to do? She can’t force herself to love him, she can’t force her feelings. This is a mess.

~~~~

Liam was woken up by insistent knocking on the door. Barely registering it was 7 in the morning, and cursing quietly as it was the only day he was able to sleep in, he opened the door. Drake was the last person he expected to see but yet...here he was, looking like a mess.

Despite their argument earlier, Liam still cared for his best friend and seeing him like this made him regret everything he said. “Come in,” he opened the door a little bit wider and Drake entered the room. For a few moments they both stood there silently, not sure what to say. After a while, Drake broke the silence. “I’m leaving Cordonia today. I thought I’d tell you in person.”

Liam looked at his friend, shocked by his statement. “What? Why?”

“There’s nothing holding me here Liam. I’m going to my mom, I miss her.”

“What about...Riley? I know you two met yesterday, why are you leaving her? I thought...you were engaged, I thought you wanted to fight for her?” Liam said carefully and Drake looked at him. “She still doesn’t remember me. I...took a chance but failed. She’s not in love with me and I can’t make her. I just want her to be truly happy and no matter how painful it may get, I know you’d make her very happy.”

Liam shook his head at Drake’s words, “Drake, I was out of line, I didn’t mean what I said--”

“What you said was true,” Drake interrupted him, “You were right. I didn’t fight for her, instead, I blamed everyone else for everything. Of course, I didn’t like the fact you wanted to take advantage of her memory loss but I understand. And...I thought I could make her remember again, I really, really, thought so. But she still doesn’t. And maybe...maybe in some weird way, we were never meant to be together. Maybe it was always you two. And I want to give you my blessing. Not that you needed it. I-I’ll never stop loving her but it was always about her happiness.”

“No, Drake, wait, I am sorry. I-I am not going to lie, I did care for her deeply, I still do. It doesn’t go away like this. But I don’t want you to leave just because of me, I’m sure there’s a way to--”

“Liam,” Drake stopped him again, “I made my decision, okay? I can’t bear seeing you two, seeing her being in love with you, especially now that I know what it feels like to be with her. I just can’t. I’ve suffered enough.”

Liam took a deep breath before clearing his throat. How the hell did this happen? This is such a mess. “Will you be at the party tonight? So we can at least say goodbye to you?” he asked carefully. Drake shook his head. “No. I need to pack. I’ll catch the earliest flight I can get.”

“But...shouldn’t you at least talk with Riley? Drake!” he exclaimed when Drake started leaving the room and heading towards the stairs. “Drake! You can’t leave like this!”

Drake stopped for a second, turned to his friend and smiled sadly.“Take care of her, brother.”

~~~~

Liam didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, he got his friend’s permission so everything should be fine. On the other, he felt awful. Even if this whole situation wasn’t his fault, he still felt somewhat guilty for what happened.

As soon as Drake left, Liam ordered a car to get him to Valtoria. He needed to talk with Riley. He believed it was her decision to be made and whatever it could be, he’d accept it.

When he arrived he spotted Gladys, talking with someone on the phone. He waved at her but she was too busy to notice. Shrugging, he entered the ballroom, still in the process of decorating, and headed to the Riley’s room.

“Liam! What are you doing here?” He heard a familiar voice from behind him. No, please no. Not now, please n--

“Buddy! Are here to help us with the preparations?” Maxwell was as cheerful as always. Liam forced a smile and turned to face his friend. “Maxwell! I didn’t expect you here!”

“Well I came here to check on Riley and help with the party. And you?” Maxwell eyed Liam suspiciously.

“I came to talk with Riley. Drake and I talked in the morning and I wanted to clarify a few things with her,” Liam aswered, suddenly feeling embarassed. What is wrong with me, I have every right to be here.

“Now?”

“Now. Why not?” He asked more confidently. Maxwell sighed. “Listen, she is not in the best place right now. Whatever you’re about to say has to wait.”

“Maxwell,” Liam started, his voice firm and Maxwell realized his friend was angry, “no offence, but I know what I need to do and I don’t need your advice. Drake is leaving and I must know if--”

“If she still loves you so can be with her completely denying the fact that she’s still confused?”

“Why are you so against me, huh? Drake gave me a green light, Riley has feelings for me, so what’s your problem?” Liam hissed.

“I don’t have a problem! I dunno...I think it’s unfair to meddle even more. And knowing what you want to tell her, I’m sure it’ll only confuse her more. Give her a moment to think buddy, so she can figure out her feelings herself.” Maxwell put a hand on Liam’s shoulder but he quickly brushed it off. “You just don’t want me to be happy with her, do you? You want her to be with Drake, just tell me, okay? Stop pretending you’re my friend when you’re clearly trying to keep me away from this.”

“You still don’t understand, do you?” Maxwell shook his head. “It wasn’t only about Riley and Drake, it was mainly about you.”

“No, I don’t think I understand.”

Maxwell sighed. “Liam, you’re after a woman who chose someone else before you. She could have had you but she didn’t pick you in the end. And I’m not trying to be rude, but if she didn’t choose you, it means you weren’t the one. And if you weren’t the one then, chances are, you’re not the one now either.”

“What are you trying to say?” Liam hissed gritting his teeth.

“Don’t you want to be with someone who chooses you? Only you? Who would always choose you? I understand you love Riley, or rather, the idea of Riley, but you weren’t her first choice. And you deserve to be someone’s first choice. Not someone who wants you only when she loses her memory, with all the respect to Riley.”

Liam rubbed his temples. All this only gave him a headache, even though deep inside he knew Maxwell was surprisingly right.  Maxwell patted him on the shoulders. “You’ll find someone buddy. But Riley is not the one for you.” He stood up and looked at his friend. “I’ll leave you now to think but we’ll see each other at the party tonight, right?”

“Right, right,” Liam murmured, still not looking up. Maxwell went to the ballroom and Liam was left alone with his thoughts. And he had a lot to process.

~~~~

Riley didn’t feel like partying. All she wanted to do was lying in her bed and doing nothing. She didn’t want this party in the first place but when Maxwell told her Drake wasn’t going to be there, she didn’t want to come either. But she had to, it was her party after all. Reluctantly, she put on a dress, plastered a smile and got out of her room for the first time that day. Gladys greeted her cheerfully but she ignored her. I’ll be here for an hour or two and then I’ll excuse myself. Hopefully nobody would mind, she kept repeating to herself.

Even though there wasn’t many guests, Liam already took care of minimalizing their number, she still felt like it was too much. Like she couldn’t breathe.

“Riley! How are you, you poor thing? I heard about the accident but I was never informed how bad it was. I’m glad to see you looking so good!” A woman in a dark blue dress exclaimed. “Oui, c’etait vraiment worrying, the accident, I’m glad you’re okay,” another one said. Okay, so that Penelope and Kiara...right? Hmm, I didn’t know we were friends though. “Yes, I’m much better. Thank you for your concerns,” Riley replied.

“You know, if you ever feel bad or something, I really recommend getting a poodle, these dogs can help a lot with--”

“Excuse me ladies, may I steal lady Riley for a moment?” Liam cut in and Riley smiled gratefully. She didn’t remember everything but from the bits and pieces she did, she definitely could recall Penelope’s obsession with poodles.

“Of course King Liam,” Penelope answered and bowed slightly. “Riley, is Drake going to be here tonight aussi? I can’t find him anywhere,” Kiara asked and Riley glared at her. Why is she asking about Drake? Why would she need him here? What--

“He is not. He wasn’t feeling too well,” Liam answered studying Riley’s  face. “Oh,” Kiara’s face fell a little, “well then, I hope he gets well soon.”

After both ladies left, Liam and Riley stood in silence. Finally, he broke the silence. “How are you Riley? I heard Drake was leaving and I was concerned about you.”

“I’m fine....No, not really. Not yet. But I will be,” she answered honestly. What was the point of lying anyway?

“Do you...regret not being with Drake? Not remembering?” he asked carefully, suddently afraid of the answer. But he needed to know. In response, she sighed deeply. “I do and I don’t. I regret hurting him. I know he says I didn’t hurt him but I’m not blind, I see it in his eyes. I hurt him. But I don’t think I could be with him. Not now. I remember more but that’s still not it. I’m more confused than ever, Liam. My memories are a mess right now and I just wish someone or something could clear this up.”

Liam listened to her, a million thoughts running through his mind. “Did something change?” he asked, so quietly that Riley barely heard him. He was dreading the answer, worried it would only confirm what Maxwell said.

“Everything. Nothing. I don’t know,” she shrugged. Liam clearned his throat. It was now or never. “Have your feelings towards me changed? Are you still...in love with me?”

“I...don’t know. They didn’t disappear, if that’s what you’re asking. I still remember being in love with you and all, but my resonable self is questioning everything. And as much as I want to just jump into your arms and ask you to take me away from everything I need to listen to my brain and think.”

Liam smiled slighly. “So, it’s not a lost case?” Riley returned the smile. “Nope. But you need to give me time to think. Maybe with Drake leaving I’ll have a better chance to--”

“Drake!”

Riley turned and saw Maxwell hugging Drake. What was he doing here?

“What are you doing here buddy, I thought you were leaving?” Maxwell was reading her mind. Drake shook his head, his eyes focused on Riley. “I need to talk to Riley before I leave.”

She swallowed hard when Drake approached them. He nodded at Liam who studied his and Riley’s faces. “Drake...” she rasped not sure what she was supposed to do. Hug him? Shake hands? Stand like an idiot?

“Brooks, I...I didn’t want to come but I felt like I needed to say goodbye to you personally.”

“Drake, you don’t have to leave, you--”

“Please, Riley. Let me finish,” he took a deep breath. “I don’t want to get in the way of your happiness. I don’t want you to feel you owe me something. That you need to be with me just because we were together before. Your happiness matters the most. And I respect that. Just do whatever you feel like doing. Life is too short for anything else. And know that you’ll always have friend in me. I love you and that’s why I want you to move on.”

“Drake, I--”

“AHHHHHH!!!”

She was interruped by a scream and before she could register what happened, the lights went out.

“Oh no,” she heard Drake saying, “Brooks where are you?”

“Guards! Guards! What’s happening?” Liam asked. She could hear panicked voices of Hana, Penelope, some heavy footsteps, sounds of people fighting when suddently it was light again.

And then she saw it.

A man with glasses stood right in front of her, aiming his gun at her. Some other masked men were occupied with other people, Liam was trying to fight another assassin and Gladys smirked at Riley from the corner of the room. She was a part of it, she’s one of them. Even though, she didn’t rememeber it clearly, Riley could swear something similar happened before.

“We meet again lady Riley,” the man said. “Did you miss your favorite press secretary?”

Who the hell he is? Why am I friends with assassins? Why was an assassin my press secretary? Riley tried to remember anything but her mind was blank. Before she had a chance to reply, the man spoke again.

“I’m only sorry it will the last time.”

And without further ado, he pulled the trigger. Riley registered everything in slow motion. Liam’s scream. Bastien and Mara running up to catch the man with glasses. She was paralyzed with fear, too scared to move as she observed the bullet coming right at her. And it would hit her if it wasn’t for Drake who slipped between her and the bullet last moment. The hit was so strong that both of them fell on the floor. “Drake!!” She looked at Drake, lying motionless on her, big blood stain on his shirt. The room started getting darker and darker and she kept screaming his name until the darkness took her too.

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Fair Won Prize:  Chapter 2

Mizael wasn’t entirely asleep. He could taste something wrong in the drink, and he hadn’t taken much of it. He’d considered asking for something else, but slowly and surely, his eyes began to slide together, and he couldn’t quite seem to make words anymore. So he stayed where he was, presuming it would burn off sooner or later.

He’d never had beer before. It wasn’t something that appealed to most elves, though he’d known some who enjoyed it. Elves differed in their tastes just as humans did, though perhaps not as widely or as often.

So only when he managed to grasp vaguely that almost everyone else at the table was also drifting away into slumber did it click into his mind that something aside from taste buds were at fault here.

He could hear footsteps coming toward him. They weren’t familiar, and sounded more like heavy-nailed boots than anything else. He couldn’t be certain of how many there were, only that they came closer, far more so than he wanted, especially now that he couldn’t defend himself. Every instinct he had urged him to get up, to call Jinlong, to just get away from there.

But not a single muscle moved as he wished it to. He strained his ears, hoping for some detail that would stir him up enough to get out of there. What he heard certainly got him angry, but not enough to move.

“You’re right, brother.” That was the tavern keeper. “They’re definitely worth a lot of money. I know a few people who could use a good minstrel. Maybe that one there could be a gladiator. He looks tough enough for it.”

There was a low bark of laughter. “Wonder if he’s an escaped gladiator. Doesn’t Spartan City have an arena? Take him back there and see if he’s worth anything extra?” That was the one that Ryouga laid out in one punch.

“That’s a long way from here,” a third voice, slightly more brittle and precise. “I know one or two cities not that far from here that have an arena and are always on the lookout for good fighters.”

“The big one would probably do for a hard laborer. Looks like he’s done plenty of that, and he’s definitely not suitable for anything else.” The tavern keeper judged.

Mizael tried to work his fingers, hating them so clinically discussing how to dispose of them. But it worked through his head what the problem was: they’d been drugged. Likely a sleep potion, which was why it hadn’t worked so well on him. If he could just get his lips and tongue to work, just to say one word, just to say Jinlong.

But he couldn’t. Not so much as a whisper.

“Looks like she’s a priestess. Those are tough to sell anywhere.” The clinical voice spoke on that score. “Any suggestions?”

“If I’m right, she’s a water priestess. So, send her to the desert? There’s a couple of sects out there that can keep her under wraps and probably retrain her, too. They pay good money for new recruits.” The tavern keeper opined.

“And I know a few places the other two would score a lot of money at,” his brother declared, a smirk in his words. Then Mizael heard him coming closer. “But this one I’m keeping for myself for a while. I bet he could use some good training...and he’s too pretty for anything else, anyway.” A raucous noise that Mizael guessed shoud be a laugh. “Can’t wait to see how much fun he’ll be!”

Given how many of the others he’d mention, Mizael found himself certain that this person was talking about him. He tried to twitch and still failed.

Then he could feel a hand on his hair, slowly stroking it.

“It’s like silk!” The muscled man declared. “Like living silk.”

“You’ve never touched silk in your life,” the tavern keeper laughed. “But if you say so.”

Again the other stroked and Mizael began to detail out how many parts he’d shred this fool into once the drug wore off.

“Let’s get them out of here.” The would-be slaver tilted Mizael’s head up. “Can’t wait for you to wake up, pretty.”

“Neither can I. I don’t think he’s going to like what you’ve been saying about him.”

Vector?! Mizael managed to pry his eyes open the tiniest but, just in time to see a slice of silvery blade in between him and the man touching his hair. For a moment there was absolute silence, then something small hit the table between them.

And then there was an all-mighty roar of pain and rage. “You cut off my hand!”

“It was where it didn’t belong,” Vector said as he rose up to his feet. Mizael dragged his eyes open just a little more and saw Vector had his sword ready. “In fact, none of you has any right to touch him – or any of us – in any way whatsoever.”

“You don’t have the right to cut off people’s hands!” The tavern keeper squawked. Vector turned toward him. From the way they were standing, Mizael couldn’t see the keeper all that well. He didn’t really need to.

“I have the right to defend myself, and since my companions aren’t available to do it – thanks to you – to defend them as well.”

Then Vector’s voice dropped low and only an elf’s keen hearing enabled Mizael to hear what came next.

“Especially since you dared to lay a hand on him. I heard what you had in mind. That will never happen.”

It took Mizael a moment or two to make the connections. They’d all known that Vector wanted him, but he’d kept himself more or less polite, making the occasional compliment, offering small gifts of things Mizael liked.

Vector wasn’t at all a nice person. They knew that, too. But just the fact he’d kept himself polite and restrained put him head and shoulders above these folk in Mizael’s opinion.

All of that took less than a heartbeat to flick through Mizael’s head. In the next moment, Vector surged forward, sword darting here and there. These people weren’t fighters at all, weren’t used to going up against someone trained in multiple forms of combat like Vector.

Mizael found himself wishing that he could see exactly what Vector was doing, aside from slicing their would-be assailants into small pieces. He didn’t love carnage all that much but he did rather enjoy seeing people who’d caused harm to others getting their just desserts.

Soon enough the last of them dropped, and Vector turned back to the others. He tilted his head to the side, considering what to do next. No one seemed in any real danger, and they’d probably sleep for a little while longer. Only here wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep.

Slight motion caught his eye and he spied Mizael trying to move. The elf wasn’t doing a very good job of it, but he tried anyway. His eyes seemed a fraction open and he twitched a finger.

He also had blood in his hair, from where Vector first de-handed the fool who’d touched him. Vector kept his hands to himself, trying to ignore the urge to wipe it out.

Instead, he moved closer and leaned down. “Mizael?”

The ranger breathed in an unsteady breath, eyes still not all the way open and what Vector could see of them remained foggy and unfocused. Vector worked his way around to where he could get hold of Mizael, and started to work him out of there. The others would be fine; Mizael was waking up and would be annoyed at the blood more than likely. Plus, he would need someone to help him clean up this mess.

People were so rude, failing to die in a clean and neat fashion. If they’d known who he was, they likely would’ve fallen all over themselves trying to avoid his anger.

They rode on the edges of Don Thousand’s lands, after all. And the son of Don Thousand commanded respect.

But that would’ve risked all the others knowing exactly who he was, and Vector didn’t want that.

He managed to get Mizael out of the tavern. The storm had passed by now, and the sun edged closer to the horizon, throwing long fingers of shadows over the land. It looked like it would be a pleasant evening, and more so if they got to spend it somewhere that wasn’t here. It would depend on how long it took everyone else to wake up. Vector sadly decided that would be much later in the evening. Far too late for it to be worth riding onward.

A stream wended its way behind the tavern and he helped Mizael there, finding a place low enough for both of them to splash their faces in an attempt to wake up, and get some of the sweat and blood of battle off of Vector. He still wouldn’t touch Mizael without permission.

But then the ranger looked up at him, his eyes clearer and more focused now. “Can you get that out of my hair?” He gestured toward the streaks of blood still there. Some had landed on his face as well, now cleared away by the water, but he’d need more effort to get to his hair.

Vector lifted his hand warily. Mizael gave him a harsh look.

“I said, could you get that out of my hair? You don’t have to act as if I’m going to bite you if you get too close.”

Vector’s lips twitched and he started to work on getting the blood out, tearing a piece of shirt off to do so. He needed to get it out of there before it dried, otherwise they’d need either magic or some kind of proper soap to get rid of it, and he doubted Mizael would want to put up with that.

“I think that should do it,” he said at last. He did what he could not to think a great deal about how close he was to Mizael and how much he enjoyed being close to Mizael. He wanted him; he’d known that since their first adventure together. He’d wondered at times if he’d get what he wanted if he had to take this long way around.

So being so close to Mizael, and Mizael agreeing to let him do things for him, wasn’t something he was all that used to.

The sun drew closer to the horizon, darkness falling softly all around, as the two of them made their way back to the tavern.

“We should’ve noticed something,” Mizael grumbled. “It’s a little too far from t here.” He indicated the closest village with a jerk of his head. “Most taverns are in the middle of town.”

Vector shrugged. “The rain.” He hadn’t liked the storm then and he didn’t like it now. Well, he liked it a bit more because it had moved on, even if it were too late for them to leave already.

Mizael surveyed the tavern and shook his head. “Unless we plan to move them all out of there, they’re staying in there for the night. And so are we.”

“We are?” Vector turned to stare at him, not entirely certain that he’d heard that correctly. “Why?”

“Because this tavern might be the only one around here, which means some of the locals could be involved in this.”

The smile on Mizael’s face reminded Vector that this man not only belonged to the forest and the wild creatures thereof, but his truest companion was a dragon.

Vector liked that.

“If they try anything, we’ll be there to explain to them not to.”

Vector liked the sound of that, too.

“You have some good ideas now and then,” Vector praised. Mizael said nothing for a few moments, his gaze thoughtful and distant.

Then he tilted his head back and spoke a single word that echoed into the night.

“Jinlong.”

Sudden cold sweat leaped into existence up and down Vector’s back. He didn’t dare move, though. Mizael would want to know where he was going, and he didn’t want to say anything about how much he disliked the giant dragon, who swept down from the skies and perched himself in front of Mizael.

“Yes?”

Vector couldn’t hear what Mizael said, and from the accents he could pick up, he wouldn’t have understood it if he did. He knew two or three languages, but the language of dragons wasn’t one of them.

Jinlong rumbled back at Mizael, eyes shifting over to Vector, who stared back at him. He didn’t like the dragon, he didn’t trust the dragon, and he wanted nothing at all to do with the dragon.

But he also dared not show fear of the dragon. He waited for Mizael to finish, admiring the slope of his shoulders, the freshly scrubbed gleam of his skin, and the way the sun set Mizael’s hair off so beautifully. He could gaze at such a view forever…

Then Jinlong spread his wings and leaped back into the air, vanishing out of sight in a matter of moments. Mizael came back closer to Vector, a pleased smile on his lips;.

“So what was that about?” Vector wanted to know as they started back to the tavern.

“I wanted him to know he shouldn’t eat you tomorrow. Or any other day.”

Vector blinked a few times at that. “I didn’t know that was something you had to remind him of.” He didn’t think he liked hearing that, either.

“I don’t. But I suspect he might need a reminder in the near future.”

Vector hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around what Mizael said, until the other caught his arm and met his eyes.

“You’ve been trying to court me.” Mizael said. Vector frowned; why bring this up now? But he nodded and the ranger continued. “For the moment, I accept your courtship gifts, with the acknowledgment that this isn’t a permanent mating, and either of us can end it at any time, for any reason whatsoever.”

Again that took some time for Vector to process. Then the side of his mouth quirked.

“So, friends with benefits?”

Mizael sniffed at that. “I wasn’t aware that we were friends.”

“So, just benefits.”

A long, heart-felt sigh fell from Mizael’s lips. “If you’d rather not take this seriously...”

“I do.” Vector reached to take Mizael’s hand in his own. “I’ve never courted anyone before. If you want to just… entertain each other, that’s fine.”

So far as Vector truly cared, he would decide when they no longer shared a bed, and that would be when he got bored with Mizael. As attractive as he was, he couldn’t imagine losing interest any time soon, especially since there was so much else to learn once this relationship achieved a level of intimacy. But there wasn’t any way he would tell Mizael that. He could have more fun with him like that.

He tightened his hold on Mizael’s hand, and Mizael returned the grip before looking into his eyes. For a few moments they stood there like that, then Vector leaned forward and pressed his lips against Mizael’s, thoroughly enjoying the sweet taste and the way Mizael returned it, their arms sliding around one another.

A soft, startled cough came from the tavern and both of them turned to look, arms still entwined about one another. Gilag stood in the door, rubbing his eyes, staring at them.

He stood there, staring at both of them, then turned and marched back inside, closing the door behind him. His voice floated through, clear as if he hadn’t done that.

“I didn’t see anything.”

Vector chuckled, still entwined around Mizael and not inclined to move at all. “Because there’s hardly anything to see.” He shot a quick look back into those lovely blue eyes of Mizael’s. “Whenever you’d like to change that...” In his opinion, that couldn’t come too soon at all.

The side of Mizael’s mouth lifted up into an amused twitch. “Not here. And not if they’re waking up.”

Vector started to pout; they’d already begun so nicely and now Mizael wanted to be prudish about it?

“It would be much more comfortable in a proper bed,” Mizael pointed out, much to Vector’s minor relief – and still annoyance, since he should’ve thought of that first. “And with the proper supplies.”

Oh. Right.

He sighed and made himself step away from that lovely embrace. “All right.” They’d probably reach a suitable bed the next night anyway. He could wait that long. Even though he didn’t really want to.

Mizael stepped briskly into the tavern itself, Vector by his side. What first met their eyes was Gilag, checking the small fireplace, and the rest of their team still sound asleep.

“How are you feeling?” Mizael wanted to know.

“Still a little sleepy, but I’ll get over it.” Gilag shrugged as he picked the kettle there up and headed for a half-hidden back door, emptying it into what was probably some sort of trash pile. “Since they’re out of it,” he said as he came back in, “looks like I’m going to have to put together some kind of a dinner.”

Mizael nodded, glancing around at the poorly stocked supplies on display. The former tavern keeper clearly specialized only in what could be drunk, none of which any of them trusted anymore.

“I think we have some things I can cook in the supplies,” Gilag muttered, heading out that way to check. He didn’t seem to be avoiding them, but he was also not exactly looking at either of them either.

Mizael checked on the group again, hints of concern that Vector didn’t find all that appealing in his eyes. He said nothing, though. He might’ve won Mizael – to some extent – but the other wouldn’t stop caring about other people. How annoying.

At least, he reflected as he made rounds around the room, this meant that Mizael would also care about him. And the idea of what the others would do when they woke up and found out what happened amused Vector quite a bit. He imagined so many scenarios where they simply stood, jaws hanging, while Vector thoroughly and intensely kissed Mizael and Mizael kissed him, and then matters turned to far more than just kissing…

“I don’t think they’ll wake up until later tonight. Maybe not until tomorrow.” Mizael broke into his fantasies without warning. Vector bit off a sigh and headed over to him.

“But they’ll be all right?” Gilag asked as he entered, bags of their supplies in his arms. Mizael nodded.

“As near as I can tell. I don’t know enough about healing or drugs to judge anything else.”

Gilag nodded himself. “Well, Ponta and I know a little bit about that, and as far as I can tell, they’re just asleep.”

Vector lounged himself against the nearest wall. “So that gives us tonight all to ourselves.” He wasn’t looking at Gilag, who hurried over to get dinner going and muttered something about sleeping outside with Ponta and the horses.

That suited Vector just fine.

To Be Continued

Notes: The actual intimacy will happen in chapter four.