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letarasstuff · 3 years

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Showing the Bird

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you have fun reading it!

Summary: Spencer's daughter always is quick to pick things up she shoudn't do, this includes a certain gesture with her hand and middle fínger.

Warnings: A kid showing her middle finger

Wordcount: 1.6k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

Spencer is a technophobe. That’s why (Y/N) has limited access to any kind of electronics, which is a good thing for a three year old. The only sort she is allowed to use is the TV in the living room and even there her choices are limited to the several DVDs the little family owns and cable TV. Emily is in the process of persuading him to get a subscription to a streaming service for (Y/N)’s sake.

“Ok, Sweetheart. One hour of TV today before eating dinner and getting ready for bed, like we negotiated”, Spencer reminds his daughter before turning it on a kid’s channel. She nods, already engrossed by Peppa Pig hanging up on that sheep for being able to whistle.

Earlier the two Reids made a deal: If (Y/N) got all the states and their capitals right, she is allowed one hour of television. This may sound like he forced her to learn this information, but it’s really just a way to stimulate her brain and the toddler is eager to learn. Spencer only has to make it look like she has a gain in it.

The young doctor doesn’t like to leave his kid alone while watching TV. It’s not because he can’t leave her on her own for a few minutes. Spencer wants full control over what (Y/N) sees and what not. Especially he can tell what effects something has on a child and he doesn’t want her exposed to things she shouldn’t be subjected to at her age.

“Daddy, why are the animals talking to each other? I know they are translating all languages to us, but a pig speaks not sheep language.” Spencer is slightly baffled at her question. It’s mostly cute that she explains most things to herself in such a plausible way.

“Uhm, well Sweetheart. You have to-” Saved by the bell. Or more like the ring of his cellphone. Still he hesitates to get it. It’s Morgan, who probably calls because the team needs help with the case.

Spencer had to stay behind for this one, because he planned on taking his vacation days with (Y/N) to fly up to Las Vegas to visit her grandma. But Diana spontaneously took the opportunity to go on a trip with the sanctorium. Now the two do all the things they don’t have the time for in their regular day.

They already were at the aquarium, visited three different museums and even went to the movies once to watch the latest disney movie. Spencer really had to keep himself from pointing out the inaccuracies to not spoil (Y/N)’s fun.

Now the father debates taking the call. He doesn’t want to leave his daughter alone while the TV is on, but also doesn’t want to talk about a case right in front of her. The option of turning the TV off is also from the table, because this would be just plain mean.

So he answers it, afraid that the voicemail will turn on. “Hey Morgan, wait a second, I’ll have to leave the room”, then he puts his hand over the speaker and turns to the toddler. “Sweetheart, I have to talk to your Uncle Derek real quick. I’ll be right back.” She nods and goes back to her cartoon.

But while her father is in the room next door, the audio gets awfully quiet. Frustrated, because she isn’t able to understand properly what they are saying, (Y/N) looks for the remote. And there it is, waiting patiently for her and her little toddler hands.

But instead of turning the volume up, she accidentally changes the channel to an old cop movie. Curious about what is happening on the screen, the girl leaves it on for a few seconds. Upon entering a room, another man greets him with his middle finger raised. (Y/N) looks at her own and tries to copy that movement. On the third try she kind of gets it.

Getting bored of not knowing what the plot of the movie is, she turns it back on the cartoon she watched earlier and settles back down on her little chair next to the table full of books (Spencer put it there to avoid her sitting too close to the TV and straining her eyes while watching her shows, the distance is perfectly measured).

Just as (Y/N) sits down Spencer re-enters the living room, feeling relieved because he was able to help his team. “Hey Sweetie, is everything alright?” Happily she nods, showing him the bird.

Spencer’s face? Just imagine the shook Pikachu. “(Y/N)! You don’t do that! This is really mean!” He tells her in a stern voice. Where did she learn that from? He doesn’t know it, but the genius is almost a 100% sure she saw someone on the street doing it, (Y/N) always was quick to pick things like these up.

The toddler looks at him with a sad face, close to tears. “I-i-i didn’t know. I’m sor-sorry”, she says, beginning to cry. Oh no, this is not what Spencer was aiming for. “No no no, don’t cry. It’s alright. I’m not mad at you. You just don’t do this, people can get really hurt by your gesture.”

After calming her down, he thinks of something they can do outside of their apartment, to forget the little incident. “Do you wanna go to the office with me? All your aunts and uncles are going to get there soon and maybe we can go eat dinner with them?” Excited by the thought of seeing her family, (Y/N) nods and jumps up to get her own little go bag.

It’s a bright pre-packed backpack with small coloring books, normal books, pencils and other knick knacks she might need when she goes out with her father. The only thing that they have to put in is her favorite stuffed animal of the day. They call it like Spencer’s work bag, because the toddler once overheard the word at the office and refused to call it something different than his.

“Hey, look at who decided to give us a little visit!” Penelope exclaims as soon as the team leaves the elevator. (Y/N) tries to keep up with her preppy step, desperately holding onto her hand to not lose her.

As they finally come to a halt in front of everybody, the little girl smiles sweetly at them. “Hi”, she says in the most adorable voice. But instead of doing her usual wave, she raises her small hand with her middle finger standing out.

You just hear a faint “NOO!” and a crashing noise before Spencer comes along in a jog. He scoops his daughter up, looking her into the eyes. He takes a few steps away from where the team is standing.

“(Y/N), what did we say about this gesture”, he asks her in a serious tone. Instantly tears start to form in her eyes again, but Spencer knows he has to be strong now. “(Y/N), you have to stop doing it. It can really hurt people. Do you remember when Jason made fun of the braids Auntie Penelope put your hair in?” She nods.

Meanwhile the team stands awkwardly in the background, not knowing what to do. They never really witnessed the genius reprimanding his daughter in front of them. Though it’s not directly in front them.

“You were hurt by his words. The same is with the gesture you just made. We don’t do this to people, we don’t want to make them feel bad. Now, I don’t want to punish you, because you didn’t really know the meaning. Just apologize to your Aunties and Uncles. Next time you do it, there will be a hard no on TV for a week.”

Quickly wiping her eyes, the toddler mutters a small “Ok Daddy.” Spencer’s heart hurts a little at that, but he needed to be stern in this one.

She wiggles out of his grasp and slowly makes her way over to the others. (Y/N) gives each of them a hug, apologizing individually to them.

“So, who wants to see the new pictures of Sergio I got on my desk?” Emily asks in a cheerful tone to break the awkward tension. Immediately the girl takes upon that offer and bounces off to the desk with her godmother in tow.

Spencer still stands near the elevator, watching the interaction going down through the glass doors. Hotch pats him on the shoulder. “I know it’s difficult to be mad at them or strict even, but you did the right thing”, he reassures him briefly before making his way to his office. The genius smiles, as a parent you seldom get encouraging words about how you raise your child. It kind of feels like walking down a path with closed eyes. But on both sides are deep rivers with piranhas in them.

Derek takes a place beside his best friend. “You know, as serious as this is, it’s also as funny. I mean how she just smiled sweetly as a cupcake and deadass pulled her middle finger up like nobody’s business? My man, in your case I would keep a close eye on her during (Y/N)’s teen years.” Both laugh at the bizarre situation.

But luckily the toddler learned her lesson from this and stopped showing people the bird as a greeting. This is until she learns the next inappropriate thing, she should rather not do.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #reader insert #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid #x reader #x daughter!reader #x child!reader #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotch #penelope garcia

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katblu42 · 3 years

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Tie Me to the Moon

Installment 4 (of 5) in my Whump Wheel spinning experiment. This spin was for John and gave me Cuddling For Comfort and Cemetery.

It is another Young Tracys fic, but it requires some WARNINGS as it deals with grief/mourning, funerals and of course a cemetery. I'm also tagging for social anxiety, sensory overload and panic attack, although I'm not entirely sure exactly what I'm putting John through. If there's any additional warning or tag I need please let me know (or if these ones don't hit the mark).

Possibly more angst than whump.

The day started early. Scott had spoken with John and Virgil the night before about how much he was relying on them both to help get Alan and Gordon ready, since Grandma and Dad would both have a lot on their plate. So, John had set the alarm for 6am to give them time to wake themselves up before tackling the tinies.

By 9am all five boys were awake and fed and dressed in their Sunday best, shoes shined and hair combed awaiting final inspection before the cars arrived to take them to the church. Normally it would have been Dad who inspected the troops before such an important occasion but, like many other things over the last week or so, today the job was taken on by Scott. He left no stray hair or speck of lint unscrutinised, while their father was barely able to do more than glance at his boys and give Scott a pat on the shoulder as he passed on his way out the front door.

Scott decided it would be best if he went in the lead car with Dad. It was the one that had been fitted with the kiddie seats for Gordon and Alan, and Scott could sit between them and keep them settled. That left John and Virgil to ride in the second car with Grandma. The car trip was mostly silent, but Grandma told them they both looked very smart and did her best to smile despite clear indications she was holding back more tears.

As they neared the church it was impossible not to notice the large number of parked vehicles, some still offloading passengers. John let out a large sigh as their car pulled up in front of the chapel. The soft murmurings and general bustle of the gathering crowd penetrated their insulated little bubble even before the driver opened the door to let Grandma out. Virgil waited until he’d caught John’s eye and received a nod before opening his door so both boys could exit on the same side of the car.

The kindly young driver from the funeral home seemed to be keeping most of the well-meaning mourners at bay as the family gathered and were solemnly led into the church and ushered to the front pew. John tried to focus on the flowers, the quiet organ music, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through stained glass rather than the coffins or even the photos of Mom and Grandpa, and definitely not the endless stream of people filling the rows of seats behind them. It was a slightly tight fit getting all seven of them in the one pew, even with Alan on Dad’s (and later Scott’s) lap, but John was glad of the warm press of Virgil on his left and Gordon on his right.

The service was a simple, no-frills affair with the Minister officiating, but friends and family doing most of the talking. John listened through Dad and Grandma retelling stories he’d heard before, but there were little details revealed that he had never known. The anecdotes shared by the others who stepped up to the pulpit microphone – one of Grandpa’s farming neighbours, and an old friend of Mom’s from school – almost felt like stories about other people. It didn’t feel like they were talking about the people John had lost.

For John losing Grandpa was like a constellation of stars going missing from the night sky. It was Grandpa that had told him people are all made of the same stuff as the stars. He had been a quiet, watchful presence in his life, providing light and joy whenever he looked up and saw that twinkle in Grandpa’s eye. Like Ursa Major and Polaris, Grandpa was always there guiding him, giving direction when needed, but never wanting to overstep or overshadow his parents. Not the brightest light in his orbit, but an important, comforting presence that meant John always knew his place in the world.

Mom had been the sun at the centre of his life, his family, his everything. Without her all the light and warmth was gone from the world. Instead of a regular (though slightly wonky) orbit his world now felt like it was tumbling through space and gravity was constantly shifting. One moment he was too heavy to move and the next he was so light might be flung out into space. Night and day and seasons, years and everything he measured his life by had been connected to his Mom – waking him and tucking him into bed, making sure he dressed warm enough or wore sunscreen or had his raincoat, keeping track of birthdays and holidays and school excursion days were all her.

During the service no one spoke of Mom and Grandpa like that.

There was music. One of Mom’s favourite piano pieces. Virgil had wanted to be able to play it today, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to even sit at the piano, much less play at all since the accident. So a recording had been found and it was played as a backing track to the slideshow that flickered through image after image of happy memories telling part of two life stories.

There were prayers. Reassuring words from the minister about heaven and God’s love, and the love we should all share with each other. John wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about heaven, or God calling Mom and Grandpa home to his kingdom.

There was a poem read out by one of Mom’s work colleagues. It was something about not crying or being sad because they were gone, but being happy because they had lived. Many of the people in the room were obviously ignoring the advice – his immediate family included. There were a good many wet handkerchiefs and tissues in hands, a great deal of suppressed sobs and eye rubbing, and a few sleeves swiped across cheeks before the service was over.

Scott and Dad were among the pall bearers who carried the coffins out of the church and onto the waiting machinery that would take care of their final movements. John and his brothers and Grandma were the first of the mourners to follow in the sombre procession. Only a small number of people were permitted to follow the hovering gurneys across the grass and through the little cemetery to the waiting square-sided pits. Just family and a few close friends to witness the way the machinery slowly and smoothly lowered each coffin down into the earth, hear the minister recite the final ritual words, and each place a flower or a sprinkling of dirt atop the coffins in a last goodbye.

The rest of the large crowd had been encouraged to make their way into the Sunday School hall where the wake was to take place. Refreshments had been generously laid out on the tables inside. More photographs of both lost loved ones were on display throughout the room, along with so many more flowers and a large number of cards. But many of the people in attendance that day were still milling about outside the church buildings when John and his family returned through the cemetery for the wake.

John’s feet dragged as he approached the gentle hubbub of mingling friendly faces with sympathetic expressions. He could pick out people he knew well if he let himself concentrate, but the sheer number of individuals he was heading towards was a little overwhelming. They didn’t make it inside the hall before the onslaught began. Almost everyone wanted to say something, speak of sympathy, tell a story, offer “any help you need.” So many wanted to reach out, hold a hand or squeeze an arm, some came in for full-on hugs, cheek kisses and loud, teary exclamations of how sad it all was.

John lost his Dad and Grandma to the throng faster than he thought possible, but before he could be swept up in it himself he was thrown a lifeline. There was a familiar presence by his side, a brush of hand against hand, or specifically pinky against pinky – a request and an offer. John grabbed hold of Virgil’s hand and held fast, tethering himself to his brother like an anchor.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened or how long it had taken, but eventually they all made it inside the Sunday School hall. John was only aware of Virgil’s hand in his, the rest was a blur of faces, voices, bodies. Virgil dealt with anyone who stopped them to offer their personal condolences, listening to what they had to say and responding politely but managing to keep the interactions brief and shielding John from most of the attention. Somehow they made their way to a cluster of chairs where Grandma and Dad were seated, Alan in his father’s lap, still accepting condolences from well-wisher after well-wisher.

John was aware of sweat beading on his forehead as Virgil told him to take a seat next to Grandma for a bit, and then his brother disappeared into the crowd to go and fetch Grandma a cup of tea. He wiped sweaty palms on his trousers as he tried to look around the room. His eyes fell on Scott standing a few feet away, taking all the sympathetic social interactions in his stride, nodding, smiling, shaking hands, accepting embraces.

John’s mouth was dry and he wondered if he could make it across the room to grab a drink from the trestle table against the wall, but there was a sea of bodies he’d have to negotiate in between. For a moment his vision blurred and the vague images of people swam in a dizzying fashion before he could find something to focus on. Alan had obviously grown tired of the hair ruffling and cheek pinching and wriggled free of his Dad’s grasp, and was now trying to run through the small gaps between grown up pairs of legs. Gordon was keeping an eye on him – in between snaffling more cakes and cookies from the food table. John watched the terrible two until they were obscured by too many featureless figures.

Despite the late-winter-cool of the day, the church hall felt uncomfortably warm. The large space with its vaulted ceiling, tall, wide windows and polished wooden floorboards felt dark and gloomy and so very crowded. And the non-stop undercurrent of murmuring voices appeared to build in an unbearable crescendo John could not shut out. Too many bodies, too many voices, too much, too close . . . he needed space, he needed air, he had to get out!

Virgil saw his brother get up and hurry a little unsteadily to the exit as he came back with Grandma’s tea. He tried to keep an eye on the red-head so he could follow, but he had to excuse himself to Grandma and Dad, make his way over to Scott, politely interrupt the conversation and whisper in his big brother’s ear.

“John’s bolted. I’m going after him.”

Scott acknowledged with a nod as his eyes darted to the door, already closed again after John’s escape. Virgil wasted no more time in following, but once outside it took him a moment to figure out which direction John had taken.

John had no particular destination in mind, he just needed to get away. His feet carried him across the gravel driveway and through the grass without him registering the change of surface. He ran through the little cemetery without seeing the tombstones he passed, slowing only when he approached the boundary marked with a low stone wall before a neat, tall hedge. Unable to go any farther he turned and wobbled dizzily. His vision narrowed leaving dull blurred impressions of light and shadow. He heard nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, and he sank down to the ground, sitting heavily, knees bent and pulled up towards his chest. He scrunched his eyes tightly closed and slammed his hands over his ears, trying to block it all out.

Virgil approached slowly, but without trying to hide the sound of his footsteps. He lowered himself to sit facing John, resisting the strong urge to reach out and touch him. Seeing his brother in such distress clawed at his heart. He couldn’t let him struggle through this alone.

“John?” He kept his voice quiet and hoped he could be heard despite the hands staying firmly pressed against ears. “I’m here with you. Just me. No one else is around.”

There was no noticeable response.

“If you can hear me, I need you to try and slow your breathing down a bit, John. Deep breath in,“ and Virgil inhaled, “and out nice and slow.” Virgil waited for a second, watching John’s shallow, ragged breathing for any change. “In,” another inhaled breath, “and out.”

As Virgil continued repeating the instruction like a mantra John’s breathing gradually began to even out into slower, deeper, more controlled breaths. He wasn’t sure, but he thought John’s vice-like grip over his ears might be relaxing a little too.

“You’re doing great, John. Keep focusing on your breathing. Keep listening. Hear the breeze whispering through the leaves? Did you hear those birds?”

John did hear the cry of a bird overhead, and an answering call a little farther away as his hands drifted away from his head. As he lowered them to limply rest on the ground beside him he heard a gentle gust of wind rustle the hedges, and he registered that it did indeed sound a bit like a whisper.

“The sun’s broken free of the clouds. Can you feel it on your face, John? Can you feel the wind in your hair? You do realise there’s dirt and leaves beneath your fingertips, right?”

John turned his focus where his brother’s voice directed it, feeling the warmth on the left side of his face, and the breeze toying with his hair. There was indeed leaf litter and slightly damp dirt beneath his flexing fingers.

“If you’re ready to open your eyes you’ll see the moon’s out. I like the way the moon looks in the day. Against the blue of the sky the shadows make it look almost see-through.”

Translucent. That would have been a better word for what Virgil was trying to say. The thought flitted through John’s mind as he let his eyes drift open and scan the sky until they latched onto the gibbous moon framed by scattered cumulous clouds. He was also aware there was irony in the way his brother was effectively using the moon to anchor him, to bring him back to earth and ground him in the here and now.

Virgil had stopped talking, leaving the wind and occasional twitters and cries of the birds to fill the silence as John watched the clouds dance around the moon. He could feel his brother’s eyes on him almost as tangibly as he could feel the damp earth he was sitting on and the cool stone of the wall at his back. Now feeling much calmer he took a deep breath and brought his gaze down from the sky to meet the concern and compassion contained in those warm, brown eyes.

“Welcome back.” A hint of a smile played across Virgil’s face as he spoke.

A quiet moment stretched between them. No words spoken, but information passing from brother to brother through eye contact alone.

Content that John was no longer caught in a spiral he couldn’t escape on his own, Virgil glanced over his shoulder towards the Sunday School hall.

“I should go back, but you can stay here if you want. I’ll come and find you when it’s time to go. Just don’t wander off or anything.”

John didn’t speak as he chanced his own glance back toward the ongoing wake. Then, as Virgil made a move to get up and leave, John reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay. Please?”

Virgil stopped and stared first at the fingers digging into his wrist, then into pleading, desperate aquamarine. He simply nodded and adjusted his position so he was sitting next to John, their shoulders touching. John loosened his grip on Virgil’s wrist but didn’t let go, so John’s arm looped around his knees and Virgil’s arm crossed his body to keep the connection. There was an almost imperceptible hesitation, but then simultaneously John leaned in towards his brother and Virgil wrapped his arm around John, pulling them into a secure embrace.

John finally let go of Virgil’s wrist, bringing his arm in close, grabbing a fistful of Virgil’s suit jacket and snuggling closer into his brother’s chest. This enabled Virgil to employ both arms in the hug. John rarely cuddled up like this with anyone, but all the times he could remember doing so were with Mom. His next intake of breath hitched at the realisation, and Virgil held a little tighter. The threat of tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he was grateful that, while not the same as a cuddle from Mom, he was still able to find this level of safety and comfort in the arms of someone who loved him.

“I want her back,” he sobbed, letting the tears flow and drip onto Virgil’s jacket.

“Yeah. Me too.”

John heard the tears in Virgil’s voice, but he already knew his brother felt the same absence in their hug.

Neither boy could say how long they stayed out there, huddled together, holding tight while hot tears streaked their cheeks. Time may as well have stood still for all it mattered. Nothing else was important, just the feeling that this moment, however sad, was there’s alone to share until Scott came and found them to tell them it was time to go home.

#john tracy #virgil tracy #grief/mourning #social anxiety #sensory overload #panick attack #funeral #angst #cemetery #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds

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caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma · 3 years

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Map of the Soul Drabble #3

Drabble #3 - One Potato, Two Potato

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (platonic)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 6.5K+

Warning: Death of a family member (cancer), cursing, bad jokes/puns, funerals, family drama

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Even though the sky was clear and sunny, your body felt cold and cloudy. Warm rays of sunlight streamed through stained glass across the collection of potted plants and floral arrangements in the room, all of it surrounding the varnished black walnut casket which sat center stage at the front. After a long 7 years of fighting against an invisible enemy, your grandmother finally succumbed to cancer, taking part of your heart to the heavens with her. You gathered together with your family to say your final goodbyes, and not a soul in the funeral home could get your tears to stop falling.

“I’m worried about her,” you heard your father whisper behind you. “She hasn’t stopped crying since last night.”

“I know, honey,” your mother responded. “But you know how close they were. You can’t just expect her to be okay overnight. It will take some time for her to heal.”

“If only Seokjin would get here sooner,” your father grumbled. “He always knows how to cheer her up.”

There was truth behind your father’s grumbles. Your favorite cousin, Seokjin, never failed to bring a smile to your face with his clever quips and his never-ending assault of cheesy jokes. In the midst of your current despair, however, you doubted whether he would be able to pull you out of the pit of misery in which you were currently drowning.

You pulled yet another tissue from the box in your hands and swiped at the ceaseless drops spilling past your eyelashes. You frowned slightly at the darkened wet spots dappled across the fabric of your pink floral romper.

Ugh, I knew I shouldn’t have worn mascara.

“Oh, look, honey,” your mother whispered while tapping your shoulder. “I think the Kims just arrived.”

You sniffled and wiped at your nose before turning toward the entrance, and sure enough, the entire Kim clan was filtering into the funeral home. Your aunt waved in your direction, and your mother sent back an equally enthusiastic wave in response. In mere moments, the two of them were embracing and chattering away in hushed voices about incoming relatives, friends, and the big dinner taking place after the funeral. Your father patted your shoulder, encouraging you to keep out of their gossipy affairs.

You sighed heavily and scanned the room, looking for Seokjin’s broad shoulders and tousled chestnut locks, but he was nowhere to be seen. Discouraged, you turned back to gaze at the myriad floral arrangements landscaping the front of the room. As luck would have it, everyone knew your grandmother remarkably well. Every bouquet was in a shade of pink and the delightful rosy hues transformed the dreary box into a chest containing a precious treasure. It was soothing to look upon the roses, carnations, lilies, and other flowers all lending their delicate fragrance and beauty to the somber scene before you.

A side door creaked open to reveal two funeral home workers carrying in two more large floral arrangements. One was decked out in the signature pink motif, but the other was a ghastly collection of yellow and purple blooms with a hideous printed bow and gold foil wrapping around the bottom of the pot.

“Where did that monstrosity come from?” uttered a voice from your left. “It’s an eyesore.”

You turned just in time to raise your eyebrows as a newly bleached blonde Seokjin slid into the seat next to you with a scowl on his face. His rosy button up shirt was accented with a fuchsia pocket square and tie combo, and you smiled at his strict adherence to your grandmother’s signature color. Pink just accentuated Seokjin’s personality perfectly; it was light, comforting, and full of life. The horrid yellow and purple creation invading the flower arrangements was an affront to Seokjin’s very nature, and you could tell he was not having it.

“Help me hide that hideous thing in the back,” Seokjin requested with a pat to your knee. “Before anyone sees it.”

The urgency in his voice drew a small smile on your lips and you readily followed him to the front of the room. You both made a big show of rearranging the flowers and potted plants, and through a little misdirection, you hid the sore thumb behind a mountain of pink roses and lilies. With the funeral faux pas handled, you and Seokjin meandered back to your seats and sighed with relief.

“Glad that’s done,” Seokjin smirked. “High five for teamwork!”

With his large hand lifted just above your head, you grinned and gladly granted him the high five. Seokjin’s comforting presence seemed to have cleared some of the gloomy rain clouds which refused to dissipate in the wake of your grandmother’s death. More people began filing into the funeral home and Seokjin placed his arm around you and drew you close.

“I still can’t believe she’s gone,” he whispered. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“My heartbreak feels real,” you countered. “I was just talking to her the other day, Jinnie.”

“I know,” he pouted. “I called her a few days ago too. I was still missing a few of her recipes for the family cookbook. We’re going to have to dig through her stuff at the house to figure out the rest on our own.”

“Whatever you need, Jinnie,” you promised. “I’m just glad she was able to share some of those things with us. Don’t worry. We will find the rest. I don’t know what I would do if we could never taste those things again.”

“It’ll take some practice to get them just right,” Seokjin sighed. “But we really need to find the rest. Between you and me, I think we can handle it. Right, goguma?”

“Awwww, goguma,” you sniffled. “Grandma won’t ever be able to call me a sweet potato again.”

“I know,” Seokjin said comfortingly. “But I’m still here, and I will continue to call you goguma from now on.”

“Thank you, Jinnie,” you smiled. “Does that mean I get to call you gamja?”

“But of course,” Seokjin chuckled. “What good is a sweet potato without her savory counterpart? Together, we can find those last remaining secret recipes.”

“Typical Grandma,” you mused. “Never wanting to give away the best recipes. Not even the secret things she would do aside from the written recipe!”

“I know,” Seokjin huffed. “Remember what she would tell us instead?”

Seokjin rearranged his face to take on the look of an old lady with a smirk.

“And that’s all,” Seokjin creaked out in a faux granny voice. “Unless you want to get a little fancy.”

“And of course, she always got fancy,” you seethed. “Sneaky old lady.”

“The sneakiest,” Seokjin agreed. “I guess I have to take over that position now.”

“I’ll fight you for it,” you challenged with a smile and you both put up your dukes.

Your quiet giggles were interrupted by a grim faced man in a gray suit tapping the podium microphone. A cacophony of feedback and groans from the guests erupted across the room, culminating in a clearing of the throat and a somber “Pardon me.”

“Pardon me,” the somber man repeated. “Will everyone please take their seats? We will begin the service in a few minutes.”

Everyone crowded into the long pews, and soon, only standing room was available. The beloved matriarch of your family certainly touched an abundance of lives in her time on Earth, and that sentiment carried you forth as the service began. Family members and friends took turns reading words of comfort and praise, and you and Seokjin even contributed a reading of your grandmother’s favorite poem. When all was said and done, the service continued on to the cemetery where your grandmother was finally laid to rest beside your already departed grandfather.

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

“Kim Seokjin, I’m warning you!” you growled. “If you fuck up my hair, I will literally murder you.”

Seokjin’s barely contained guffaws spilled out as squeaks and squawks as he continued to apply pink dye to the bleached sections of your hair before folding them up with foil.

“Relax,” Seokjin chuckled as he continued working. “This isn’t my first time doing someone’s hair. You’re in good hands.”

You grumbled slightly as Seokjin continued to foil wrap more blonde sections of hair around your face, but you relaxed when you realized how focused Seokjin was. After questioning his new blonde look, he explained his clever scheme to pay tribute to your grandmother by dying his treasured brown tresses to a brilliant pink color. After expressing your desire to do the same, you were now sitting in her bathroom with foil sheets, bowls of bleach and dye on the counter and one of your grandmother’s favorite dressing gowns covering your clothes.

“That should do it,” Seokjin announced as he stepped back to admire his handiwork. “Now, we just wait for the dye to set.”

“How many foils did you use?” you questioned while lifting a few covered sections. “I look like an aluminum pinecone over here.”

“Not that many,” he admitted while adjusting the plastic shower cap on his head. “I think I bleached about 13 different sections. Maybe a bit more? You should’ve just done your whole head like me.”

“I don’t want to be twinsies, Seokjinnie,” you replied. “I just want a little pop of pink.”

“Hey,” Seokjin smirked. “What do you call a country with only pink cars?”

You perked up and grinned at your smug cousin, noting that he was desperately trying to hold the punchline in.

“What,” you relented.

“A Pink Car-nation!” Seokjin sputtered.

You both gave in to the absurdity of the cheesy joke and you wandered into your grandmother’s room to sit on her small pink loveseat.

“I always loved this little nook in her room,” you sighed wistfully. “Remember when we’d watch cooking shows with her in here?”

“Yup, every Thursday night,” Seokjin beamed. “I purposely avoided school activities that met on Thursdays so that I never missed an evening with her.”

“She loved those shows,” you reminisced. “Remember when we found all those old Iron Chef episodes on YouTube? She loved it!”

“Not as much as she loved watching Iron Chef America,” Seokjin reminded you. “She had a crush on both Alton Brown and the Chairman.”

“No way,” you argued. “She wanted Morimoto and Michael Symon! She always loved their dishes the best.”

“I think we can agree that she just loved food,” Seokjin chuckled. “The woman had a passion for feeding us delicious things.”

You both sighed and nodded your head, your thoughts replaying touching memories of your grandmother in an attempt to summon her spirit into the room.

“What are we gonna do without her, gamja?” you sniffled. “Things are never going to be the same around here.”

“I don’t know,” Jin huffed. “I’m sure we’ll think of something, goguma.”

A gentle knock pulled you both out of your reverie and your aunt appeared at the doorway with a pink plastic tote in her hands. Her eyebrows rose comically when she peeped the hair accessories you were both rocking, but she shook her head and decided that silence was best in this situation.

“I figured you two would be in here,” she smiled softly. “This was always your place with her.”

“Yeah, we just feel closer to her in here,” you replied.

“What’s that, eomma?” Seokjin gestured at the tote in his mother’s hands. “More of Grandma’s stuff for the closet?”

“Actually, it was on one of the chairs in the dining room,” she explained. “We saw it when we were clearing places for dinner. There’s a note inside. It’s addressed to the two of you...from her.”

Both you and Seokjin bolted off the couch, arms ready to receive this newfound treasure. The glossy opaque exterior did nothing to offer any explanation as to the contents of the container. Noting the intimate nature of this discovery, your aunt stepped forward and gingerly placed the container on the coffee table. After giving your hand a gentle squeeze and offering a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek, she offered a small smile and left without another word.

You and Seokjin sank back into the couch cushions and stared at the pink plastic taunting you from the coffee table. After a moment, you glanced at Seokjin and realized that he was too dumbstruck to do anything.

“I’m going to open it, Jinnie,” you announced. “Is that ok?”

Seokjin could only nod with furrowed brows and his breath caught as you lifted the lid to reveal a pile of multicolored pieces of paper stacked inside topped with a folded sheet of pink lined paper. The box released the scent of coriander, bergamot, lavender, and peppercorns and your eyes watered at the nostalgic scent of your grandmother. You took the folded note into your hand and began to unfold it as Seokjin sat forward to hear you read what was inside. Tears sprang to your eyes as you quickly scanned the page and began to read.

My Dearest Gamja & Sweetest Goguma,

I know that I will not be able to help you finish the cookbook that you’ve been working so hard on, and I apologize for that. I know that whatever you two “cook up” will be amazing, with or without my help. You two will always be my favorites, but don’t ever tell anyone that, not even your parents. They’ll just be jealous, or “jelly” as you kids like to say. I know this isn’t much of a gift, but it’s my most precious possession in the world besides my family. Inside this box, you’ll find the last of my secret recipes. (Yes, the ones you’ve been bugging me about for months now. I also threw in a few extra things just for you two.) Please take this knowledge and put it to good use. Remember that whenever you get stuck in a recipe that it’s ok to improvise. Always trust your instincts and believe in your skills (because I taught you most of them), and if all else fails, just know that I will be proud of you no matter what you do. I love you both more than you will ever know. Please take care of each other and don’t forget that it’s always a good idea to get a little fancy in the kitchen.

Always your little kitchen fairy,

Grandma

P.S. Don’t you dare get rid of my aprons! I worked very hard on those. They belong in the kitchen.

You sniffled as you took in the elegant swirls of her handwriting and the esoteric scribbles in the margins. You were about to comment about one particular doodle to Seokjin, but then you looked up and noticed his reddened ears, his tear streaked cheeks, and his trembling lips.

“Oh, gamja,” you cried out. “What’s wrong?”

“I just-,” Seokjin tried to speak, but failed. “I just miss her so much, goguma. She just got us, you know? No one else really gets us. She always did, and now, she’s gone.”

His last word died on his lips and he could no longer hold back the choking sob clawing at his throat. You quickly placed the letter back on the table and threw your arms around your cousin’s quaking shoulders. The two of you held onto each other, sobbing in your shared grief and comforting each other as best you could.

“We knew this was going to happen at some point, Jinnie,” you muttered into his shoulder. “She couldn’t keep fighting forever. At least we know that she’s not in pain anymore.”

“I know,” he pouted petulantly. “Doesn’t mean I wanted her to leave us.”

“She didn’t completely leave us,” you assured him. “She left us this. Now, we can finish putting together this cookbook. It will be her family legacy.”

That thought seemed to sit well with Seokjin because he released a shaky exhale and straightened up. He leaned over to pull a few tissues out of the crocheted tissue box on the coffee table and he handed you one while he dabbed at the wetness on his flushed cheeks. After you’d both composed yourselves, you began digging through the items in the pink container.

“Oh my God!” Seokjin exclaimed while lifting several pieces of paper. “She finally gave up those last few gems that we kept asking her about.”

“You got her cookie recipe?!” you gasped. “And what about that soup she always makes when we’re sick?”

“It’s all here!” Seokjin confirmed. “The cookies, the soup, and even that chicken dish she only made for special occasions. She even gave us some cooking tips. You know, the stuff she would always do that wasn’t in the recipes? She wrote it all down here in the margins. This is fantastic! You just need to help me put it together.”

You continued perusing the contents of the container and noticed some irregularities in the organization. Your grandmother was a culinary genius, but keeping things neat and in order was not one of her strong suits.

“I think we’re missing a page, Jinnie,” you pouted. “I can’t find the second half of this cookie recipe. I wanted to make some for dessert tonight. Help me find it.”

You both began digging through the dozens of pages of notes in the container, and it was proving to be quite the task. Seokjin frantically filtered through several sheets of paper seeking the page in question. With the copious collection of Post-it notes, sticky flags, and impromptu bookmarks, the coffee table was an absolute disaster area within minutes.

“I swear I just saw that page,” Seokjin grumbled. “It had a blue tab on it and it had a little whale scribbled in the corner of the page.”

“Is the one that you’re holding in your hand?” you quipped with a smile.

Seokjin examined the paper in his hand and his head fell back in defeat. You could barely control the giggle that was threatening to escape from your lips.

“Seriously?” Seokjin groaned. “We’ve been looking for this for like five minutes already.”

“It’s fine, gamja,” you assured him. “You know what they say, if you’re searching for something, take an apple with you.”

You gestured at yourself and Seokjin smiled.

“And why is that?” Seokjin mused.

“So that your search will be fruitful,” you grinned.

You both chuckled at your lame pun, and you could see Seokjin gearing up for one of his infamous cheesy jokes.

“We should’ve called you sagwa instead of goguma, y’know?” Seokjin suggested. “But grandma always said you were too soft and sweet to be an apple, even if your middle name is Eris.”

“I yam what I yam,” you gloated. “There’s no arguing with her logic.”

“Hey,” Seokjin chuckled. “Why do sweet potatoes make good detectives?”

“Why?” you smiled.

“Because they keep their eyes peeled,” Seokjin responded before exploding into a fit of squeaky laughter.

The two of you collected yourselves after the giggles calmed down and stacked the handwritten notes back into the pink container for safekeeping. Once you got the chance, you were going to begin typing everything up and creating a digital template for the cookbook. Your best friend/soulmate, Taehyung, was creating some dazzling layouts and original artwork that would be used to decorate the cookbook and commemorate your grandmother.

After rinsing the pink dye out of each other’s hair in the shower with your grandmother’s removable shower head, you and Seokjin dried your hair and styled it the best you could with your grandmother’s limited styling products. You wove your hair into a pair of French braid pigtails and the brilliant hues of pink peeking through your dark hair filled you with glee.

Perfect.

You turned to see Seokjin arranging his rosy bangs so that his forehead was still exposed when you had a brilliant idea.

“Want to help me make some of Grandma’s cookies, gamja?” you chirped. “We should make a double batch for everyone that’s coming.”

“I’m down,” Seokjin replied with a grin. “As long as we have this recipe, what could go wrong?”

30 MINUTES LATER

“This doesn’t look right, gamja,” you huffed while scanning the recipe ingredients on the page again. “The dough feels too wet. I think we did something wrong.”

Seokjin walked over and looked at the sticky mess coating your hands and then glanced back at the page you were still decoding.

“You’re right,” Seokjin agreed. “Something isn’t right.”

You wiped as much of the greasy dough back into the bowl as you could before walking over to the sink to wash your hands of the sticky substance. Whatever it was, it was definitely not cookies. You dried your hands on the flamingo print towel hanging from your pink ruffled apron and groaned at the unchanging list of ingredients on the page. You didn’t even notice when your cousin Sana wandered in and peeked over your shoulder.

“What is this?” she asked abruptly, nearly giving you a heart attack.

“Holy shit, Sana,” you gasped while clutching your chest. “Where the hell did you come from, you little ninja?”

“Your mom sent me inside to get tablecloths,” she griped. “Where are they, anyway?”

Seokjin opened a cabinet and pulled out a pile of folded pink patterned tablecloths and handed them to Sana. She gazed at his hair for a second too long and Seokjin took that as an invitation to strike a pose.

“You like it?” Seokjin prompted. “Looks good, huh?”

Sana’s sharp gaze cut across to your braids and she raised a judgmental eyebrow at the pink threaded in your dark hair.

“We did it for Grandma,” you explained. “Something to pay tribute to her memory.”

Sana’s countenance relaxed and she nodded with a smirk.

“Well, that’s ok then,” Sana murmured. “If you’re going to look ridiculous, at least it’s for a good cause.”

Both you and Seokjin gaped at her snarky remark and your eyes followed her as she made her way to the hallway. She paused for a moment and turned back with a huff.

“By the way,” Sana grumbled. “One of your friends is here.”

“Oh, is it Tae?” you hoped. “He’s supposed to be getting here today. His parents couldn’t drive him yesterday so he missed the funeral.”

“Ugh, no,” Sana snapped. “It’s not your idiot best friend. It’s some girl.”

“Soulmate, Sana, not idiot best friend,” you admonished playfully. “They may mean the same thing, but Tae is big on labels.”

“Whatever,” Sana rolled her eyes. “It’s not him. Just come outside and get your friend. I don’t know who she is, but she’s kinda annoying.”

“I’ll go out in a minute,” you replied while studying the recipe once again. “Jin-Jin and I are working on the cookies right now. We need to figure out what’s wrong with the recipe.”

Sana leaned in and looked at the dough in the mixing bowl and scowled.

“That dough looks like shit,” she growled. “What did you do to it?”

“Sana!” you exclaimed with a start. “Rude much?”

“What?” Sana argued. “It does! My dog’s shit looks like that if she eats too much fried food.”

“You know, she’s got a point, goguma,” Seokjin commented lightly. “Maybe we missed something in the recipe?”

“Just dry it out,” Sana suggested. “It looks too wet to be cookie dough.”

“Huh?” you recoiled. “How would you know that?”

“Trust me,” Sana smirked. “I’ve stolen a lot of cookie dough out of Grandma’s freezer. I know what it should look like.”

With the mischievous smirk still pulling her lips into a sneer, Sana turned and left the kitchen with a little hitch in her step.

“That little hellion,” Seokjin mused. “Should we tell her that Grandma knew about her thievery all along?”

“And ruin the illusion that she’s a sneaky little thief?” you giggled. “Nah, maybe later. I’m just surprised she paid so much attention to the texture of the dough. She’s one smart cookie after all.”

“I guess she’s a cookie dough expert,” Seokjin chuckled. “Do you know what they call a smart cookie?”

“What?” you smirked with anticipation.

“Academia nut,” Seokjin replied, then immediately fell into squeaky giggles.

You both enjoyed the lame pun and joke combo for a moment before looking back into the mixing bowl with frustration. You grabbed the ingredients page again and tried to puzzle out the mystery of the cookie recipe once again.

“Are you sure this is the right page to the cookie recipe, Jinnie?” you queried. “Maybe it was a different page.”

“Maybe?” Seokjin hummed. “Can you check the pink container again? Maybe we missed something.”

You took off your apron and placed it on a hook before walking back into the hall. You raced back to your grandmother’s room past the living room and shuffled through the box looking for the long lost cookie ingredient list. After flipping through a few pages, a loose piece of heavy cardstock fluttered to the ground. Upon further inspection, you immediately realized the problem with the recipe and you groaned loudly.

Grandma, you sneaky old lady!

You quickly headed back to the kitchen, but unfortunately, you didn’t get very far.

When you got back into the living room, a high pitched squeal assaulted your ears.

“HEY!” the voice bellowed. “THERE YOU ARE!”

Before you could trace the origin of the voice, a pair of arms enveloped you in a bear hug. You look past the wisps of caramel hair flapping in your eyes at your confused younger cousin Sana.

“She said she was here to see you,” Sana scowled. “I told her you were busy in the kitchen, but she wouldn’t listen. Friend of yours?”

“Well, of course she’s my friend,” the strange voice insisted. “We’ve been in the same class since second grade, haven’t we?”

As she pulled away to reveal her face, you nearly growled at the pair of pleading eyes belonging to the one and only Aeri. The same Aeri who once poured glitter glue into your pencil case, who was the sweetheart of your school, and who was infamous for going after all the popular, rich boys in town just to reap the benefits.

“I’m so sorry to hear about your grandmother,” Aeri squealed sadly. “I just wanted to come over and make sure you were doing ok.”

“I’m fine,” you said, suspicion etching little wrinkles around your eyes. “How did you know I was here?”

“Just a lucky guess,” she shrugged. “Your aunt said I could stay and help set up for the party as a sign of my condolences to your family. Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah, sure,” you commented, still unsure of her intentions. “Thank you.”

“Oh, you dyed your hair?” Aeri noted. “That’s an interesting color choice.”

“Grandma loved pink,” Sana explained. “Her and Seokjin decided to play salon together. It’s a tribute.”

You glared at the air quotes Sana was making when she said “tribute,” but you also noticed that Aeri’s eyes lit up with Sana said Seokjin’s name.

“Oh well, that’s wonderful,” Aeri cooed. “It looks great. I bet your cousin’s hair looks just as good. That’s so sweet that you guys did that for your grandmother.”

The air in the living room shifted uncomfortably with Aeri’s words and you cleared your throat before the moment got any more awkward.

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat,” you muttered. “But I’m a little busy right now getting the dessert ready for tonight. Have fun setting up.”

You turned towards the kitchen, but not before hearing the beginning of Aeri and Sana’s conversation.

“Oh, I wonder if I should go help her in the kitchen,” Aeri proclaimed sweetly. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“No, she’s fine.” Sana grumbled. “She’s got Jin in there. We need your help outside setting up tables. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Aeri’s protests faded out the door and you scowled as you heard the screen door fall shut.

What is this bitch up to?

You didn’t have time to play detective, so you shelved those thoughts until after dessert was finished.

Seokjin was pulling out more ingredients from the cupboard as you entered and you noticed that the spices were piling up on the counter.

“What are you doing, gamja?” you asked. “What with the spices?”

“Just thinking of getting a little fancy,” he quipped playfully. “Grandma liked to play mad scientist in here. Why shouldn’t I?”

“If this is for the cookies, hold that thought,” you said while handing him the cardstock. “We need to fix the recipe before you do that.”

Seokjin took the card from your hand and tilted his head in confusion. After flipping the card over and then back, he looked at you with questions in his eyes.

“What am I supposed to be looking at, gamja?” Seokjin asked

“That is a label for a box of butter sticks,” you explained. “Actually, it’s for a box of half sticks.”

“Ok, but why am I looking at it?” Seokjin persisted. “What does this mean?”

“This is Grandma’s butter package,” you continued. “This is the only butter she buys. But they sell it in half sticks...they only sell it in half-sticks.”

Seokjin pondered that statement and then the light bulb flickered mockingly above his head.

“She only used half-sticks!” Seokjin exclaimed loudly. “We have to go in and adjust all her recipes now.”

“Yup,” you sighed. “Leave it to Grandma to write her recipes in code.”

“So, we just need to double all the ingredients and we should be good,” Seokjin concluded. “That’s why the dough feels so weird.”

“You grab the wet ingredients,” you commanded. “I’ll gather the dry and meet you at the mixer.”

You both high-fived and pounced into action. With a little teamwork, you managed to pull together a decent cookie dough out of the mess you’d made. Seokjin even took a little time to mix some freshly ground ginger to the mix for a little fresh and spicy kick.

“It will be like gingerbread,” Seokjin promised. “But without the dark flavor of the molasses.”

Once the cookies were done, you both filled a few platters and carried them out to the table that was set up in the backyard patio. People were just starting to arrive, and the two of you mingled around and welcomed everyone to the memorial dinner. Once or twice, you caught sight of Aeri mixed into the group talking to Seokjin, but you couldn’t get away to confront her. The way she was batting her eyelashes at him and touching his arm was making you bristle.

I don’t know what she’s playing at, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.

Once the dinner was over, the clean up crew was hustling and bustling inside to get your grandmother’s house cleaned before everyone left for the night.

You were just putting the vacuum back into the closet when a loud argument erupted from inside the kitchen. You and Seokjin rushed into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about.

“That glassware set is mine and I’m taking it,” cried your aunt. “Mom always said that I was going to be the one to inherit it after she passed.”

“You can’t just start taking things out of the house,” cried your other aunt. “We should give everyone a chance to claim something of their own. You weren’t the only one who was promised something, you know. Give the kids a chance to get something as well. Don’t be so selfish.”

The word “selfish” triggered another round of yelling and you and Seokjin decided to step in before things got out of hand. In the end, a running tab of claimed items was created and everyone settled down once the matter was put into writing. The emotional aunts wandered back into the living room, while you, Seokjin, and your mother stayed behind to finalize the list.

“Did you two already pick out something?” your mother asked. “I know a lot has already been claimed, but I’m sure there must be something you would want.”

“Not really, mom,” you sighed. “Seokjin and I already have the best part of Grandma: her recipes. I don’t think there is anything else that would rival that.”

Your mother nodded and then abruptly perked up. She walked over to one of the drawers and began digging through the silverware inside, seemingly searching for something specific. She pulled out a spoon and a fork and smiled widely when she held them in her hands. You and Seokjin were puzzled over her actions and your confusion increased when she placed the utensils on the countertop between you.

“This design was from Grandma and Grandpa’s wedding set,” she explained. “They received a full place setting, but these are the only two items left from the original set. The others were either damaged or lost along the way. I think you two should have them. That way you can always be connected to your grandparents and to each other. You two were the roses of your grandmother’s garden. She always held a special affection for you two that was different from your other cousins.”

With tears brimming in your eyes, you looked up at Seokjin and saw he wasn’t faring much better. Your mom sensed that this needed to be a private moment, so she placed her hand on both your cheeks for a moment and then gracefully exited the kitchen, leaving the two of you staring at the elaborate spoon and fork on the counter.

“So how do we decide who gets what?” you probed with a sniffle. “I don’t want to fight like our crazy aunts did. We’re way more civilized than that.”

“There’s only one answer to that question,” Seokjin said while wiping a tear from his eye. “Why did the sweet potato cross the road?”

“I don’t know, Jinnie,” you hiccuped. “Why?”

Seokjin slid the fork over to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. This was a bittersweet moment for the two of you and you knew that his joke was the only thing keeping the two of you from breaking down into yet another round of tears.

“She saw a fork up ahead,” Seokjin croaked. “That’s why you should get the fork, goguma. I’ll take the spoon, yeah?”

“Makes sense, gamja,” you agreed. “You are always the one to scoop me up when I’m down. You’re always such a sweetheart, and I love you for that.”

“I love you too,” Seokjin mumbled while pulling you into a crushing hug. “Hey, speaking of sweetness, if you put sugar in tea, what do you put in sugar?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed into his shoulder. “What?”

“A spoon,” he chuckled while grabbing his spoon from the counter. “See, my jokes always make sense of everything.”

“I promise to keep this with me always,” you swore while holding your fork. “This random utensil will forever be my connection to you, gamja.”

“And this spoon is never leaving my sight, goguma,” Seokjin promised. “It will be a constant reminder that I have you and you have me.”

You embraced once again and a sharp throat clearing interrupted your heartfelt moment. You both turned to see your younger cousin Sana just inside the kitchen doorway, wearing her signature scowl and a bright blue Transformers T-shirt.

“Hey, Sana,” you called out while wiping away your tears yet again. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Sana sighed. “We just finished cleaning up. Your friend Aeri just left. It took a while to get rid of her.”

“Oh, is she your friend, goguma?” Seokjin probed. “She mentioned something like that earlier.”

“No, not really,” you scowled. “She’s just a girl from school.”

“I think she liked me,” Seokjin bragged. “She said my hair reminded her of her favorite bubblegum.”

“It looks more like Pepto Bismol, if you ask me,” Sana interjected.

You released a loud cackle as Seokjin’s ego deflated slightly at Sana’s words, but he shook it off quickly and smiled.

“So how did you like the cookies after all, Sana?” Seokjin asked. “As good as Grandma’s?”

“They were pretty good,” Sana admitted. “A little different, but still good.”

“It’s too bad we didn’t have any left,” you sighed. “I wanted to take some home, but they were gone before I could.”

“So no cookie dough left either?” Sana hoped. “Maybe in the freezer?”

“No, you rascal,” Seokjin chuckled while rumpling her hair. “Nothing left for you to steal this time.”

"What makes you think I don't already have cookie dough at home?" Sana challenged.

"What cookie dough?" you asked. “What are you talking about?”

"Grandma's last bag,” Sana stated with a grin of Cheshire proportions. “I found it in the freezer the other day and took it."

"Sana!” you reprimanded. “You should share that with the family."

"Nope,” Sana boasted. “Mine now. But I might be willing to share if you can do me a favor."

“What kind of favor?” Seokjin wondered aloud. “Whatever it is, we’ll do it. We need an original sample to make sure we get the next batch of dough right.”

Sana shuffled forward and glanced between you and Seokjin. She was one of your stranger cousins, always dabbling in odd hobbies and adopting a style that was all her own. Both you and Seokjin felt protective of her unconventional personality, and despite her surly demeanor, Sana gravitated to the two of you more than any of your other relatives.

“I was wondering,” Sana began softly. “If maybe you could teach me how to cook. I want to learn how to make cookies.”

“I think you mean bake,” Seokjin corrected her gently. “And we’d love to teach you how to make cookies. We have grandma’s cookie recipe now. Want to help us make some?”

“No,” Sana replied. “I want those peanut butter cookies that you guys made for Halloween. Those are my favorite.”

“We can do that,” you beamed. “Let’s get our aprons on and then we can show you how to make those cookies.”

Once you all had on aprons, with Sana opting for a plain white apron while you and Seokjin donned frilly pink ones, you all started pulling out ingredients for the cookies. As you waited for the butter to soften, you started regaling Sana with recipes from your grandmother’s cookbook.

“So there’s also candy recipes?” Sana asked. “Are you going to share those with everybody?”

“Absolutely,” you replied. “It’s a family cookbook. It wouldn’t be fair if we kept it all to ourselves.”

“I didn’t know you were so interested in cooking, Sana,” Seokjin commented while showing her how to mix the dry ingredients. “It’s a valuable skill to have, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Sana smirked. “I’m sure I can put those recipes to good use.”

The three of you continued to work on the cookies while you and Seokjin gave Sana instructions on each step of the recipe. A comforting air settled in the kitchen and you couldn’t help but wonder if your grandmother’s spirit was sitting in the corner on her stool, fondly watching as her kitchen was brought to life once again.

Author's Note: I finally got around to finishing this drabble. Work is really putting me through the ringer. I hope you all enjoy this little slice of family time with the one and only Kim Seokjin. These potato heads are so lovable and it did make sad to put them through such an angsty memory, but it all worked out in the end. Thank you to my Beta @xxxille-girlxxx for being an amazing soulmate and reading my drafts. Your suggestions brought this whole drabble to a whole other level. I'm going to be working on my collab fic that is due next month, so I will return to these drabbles and my other fic Peripheral after I finish that. Stay safe, everyone!

MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST

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#kim seokjin #map of the soul bts #bts fanfic #bts au fanfic #bts drabble #bts fluff #bangtan sonyeondan #goguma #gamja #pink hair seokjin

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justjessame · 3 years

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Silence Chapter 8

The silence, so rare when Negan was present, blanketed the cabin. Only the flicker and crackle of the fire he’d started before I’d arrived broke it. I waited him out, letting him collect himself, his thoughts, and lose himself in his memories. He held me tight the entire time, and I wondered if he really remembered who I was, or that I was even alive and human. Or if I’d taken on a surreal tint of inanimate human shaped teddy bear?

Negan’s story, while so far removed from my own, caused the memory of the call alerting me that all was NOT right in my world so very long ago. My grandma asking when the last time I’d talked to my daddy, then more troubling asking for my permission to breach the privacy of our home, a privacy my dad had held so tightly guarded that I knew something terrible must have happened.

When the professional who’s been leading his patients away from the darkness threatening to swallow them whole for years and years finally gives in to his own darkness, what do those same patients take away from that? The ruckus, as my grandma muttered under her breath when I came home, would be horrendous. She worried more about the ripples, rumors, and rude comments that might come flying her way in the aftermath of my father finally giving in to the pull he’d felt to join my momma from the day she’d left her mortal shell giving me life. Me? I felt incredible guilt that he’d held on so tightly only for me. That he could have ended his suffering and been at peace so much sooner, or better still he could have talked to a version of himself and found a peace that kept him alive and pushed him into the light, with a promise of the reward he’d yearned for once he’d lived long and happily.

So lost in my own morose memories and the quiet that I’d once found comfort in, I didn’t notice dawn creeping up on us. The fire was dying, the day breaking cool and brisk, and I hadn’t slept a wink. From the groan that Negan released, I wondered if he’d managed any rest either.

“I want to go find her,” muffled, quiet still, his words fluttered my hair while his arms were still clutched around me like I’d disappear if he let go of me. “You touched my scar the first time you let me strip down full monty,” a hint of humor, but the pain from his burden was heavily coating it. “She’s where I got it.” He wasn’t making a hell of a lot of sense, but we were sleep deprived and full of painful nostalgia. “Will you come with me, Elara?” His face was pressed into the back of my head, the words pleading, and I sighed.

“Of course,” I had to agree, but I had to also wonder at what price was all this coming at? And at what point would I finally feel the cost was too high?

A tree on a slight hill is where Negan leads me, shovel in one hand, my fingers linked with his holding him tethered to the present in the other. He releases me only when he realizes he cannot dig without doing so, reluctant, eyes looking far more haunted than I care to consider he does and I step back, but he asks that I stay close to the tree.

“It’s safer,” he promises, but whether it’s a promise to me or himself, I can’t say.

Negan digs like a dog who forgot where he buried his bone, and he mutters about being told that she’d been left out here, where they’d discarded her like garbage. A man on a mission, fevered, but purposeful. Just when I think that perhaps, with the approach of one of the unlucky former freaks that he’d so charismatically joined, he’s admitted defeat he pulls something free from the soil.

A small part of me fears bones, or some other proof that the person who gave him his scar had gone further and truly destroyed Negan and everything he loved, another person named Lucille, but no. I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I would have made a comment or snorted, but while Negan was studying his ‘girl’ reverently, the groaning and snapping Whisperer was growing closer and before I could protect him, he reacted and Lucille took the brunt of the blow, even as she saved his life. Again.

We were back in the cabin, the fire crackling and bright, but I was sitting alone in the rocking chair while Negan cremated Lucille and said his final goodbyes.

As he had his moment, I had my journal on my lap and I wrote, since I had neglected it while I worked among the people who Negan wanted so badly to belong to. I’d lost track of the days, and that was far more annoying that I cared to think about. I tried to count back, the nights and days weren’t so similar that I should be able to make an educated guess.

I worked, and then my pen met paper, but instead of the normal stream of consciousness, I found myself asking more questions than I’d allowed before. Questions about people I hadn’t allowed myself to think about since the world seemed to collapse in on itself. Things I dared not think about, unless I wanted to feel the same crushing sadness that I’ve felt over the years, the same feeling that there wasn’t a fate or hope that made any of it worth it.

Why bother with communities and connections when at the end of the day, it all goes to shit and we’re all going to end up either truly dead or walking around trying to eat the ones who aren’t dead yet?

I didn’t notice when Negan finished his memorial service. I wasn’t really THERE when he came closer and his shadow fell over the chair. Too busy in my own thoughts and the urge to move, to pack up and GO again was growing in me like a gnawing need.

“Hey,” his voice, still so quiet didn’t register, not at first. He told me later that he’d said my name, called ‘hey’ more times than he cared to count, and finally had to touch my shoulder. “Elara, let’s head out.”

Moving sounded perfect, so I was up with my pack on and my bow and quiver ready before Negan could wrap his mind around my movements. He grabbed only the minimum, which should have warned me about our destination, but the nomad in me just wanted to go, damn the ending.

As we walked, Negan reached for my hand and I twitched, moving to grab a loose and low branch or pick a berry, dodging the contact. Movement, forward, and silence that’s what I needed now. And by some miracle he managed to give all three to me, at first. My sense of direction engaged soon enough to realize we were heading back.

“I’m not giving up, Elara,” he saw the shift in me, subtle or not. “Come back with me, we still have your list,” a teasing tone still laced with worry, but less pain.

The mention of my list caused a small flutter deep down inside of me, but then a flare of the night before and the community that banished him to that - with me along simply because of association. This is what people did, and have always done. It’s what my own grandmother expected when my dad committed suicide after all.

Negan stopped moving and so did I. Facing one another, not far from Alexandria, he was eyeing me like I was a scared animal. “What’s changed?”

“Why were you really banished?” Damn my curiosity, but there had to be more.

His eyes were locked on mine. “I killed Maggie’s husband while she was pregnant, in front of her.” I swallowed hard, waiting because there had to be more. “She - The sentence, when I was imprisoned, was that I’d be in my cell for the rest of my life. I’m not.”

“So she wants you dead.” He nodded. “Is that all?”

“It’s what I figure the real reason is, but -” he shook his head. “Lydia’s been treated like shit by these people, Elara. And I caught three assholes going after her and -” he sighed. “One died, so of course, I’m a murderer.”

“Just looking for a reason to get you out of sight out of mind?” Now that we were face to face, out of the darkness of the cabin, with the trees and sunshine around us, I wasn’t quite as flight focused. “And what am I in this mess?”

Negan took a step closer, just one and it was small. “Elara, just be beside me?” A plea, not a demand, but almost begging. “I have no one. Not a single person who is beside me, but you don’t look at me like -”

I moved closer to him and sighed. “Like you’re Negan? Just Negan?” I shook my head and let my cheek meet his chest as he opened his arms for me. “Don’t get us both killed? Please?”

Negan’s soft chuckle ruffled my hair as his arms wrapped around me. “No promises, Elara.”

“Great,” I muttered, leaning my head back so I could look up at him. “This is why I’m NOT a joiner.”

#negan x ofc #the walking dead #alternative universe #mention of suicide

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simmonsofshield · 4 years

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Broken, Mended

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic)

Summary: After breaking off an engagement, Y/N may have possibly hit rock bottom. But she doesn’t have time to think about it because she gets deployed to Iraq. Leaving their daughter with her friend, Sam Wilson, she’s gone for a year. She doesn’t like talking about her ex-fiance and is unsure if she’ll ever be able to love again. What happens a certain Captain is his literal doppleganger?

Words: 1700+

Warnings: mentions of murder? it’s knives out, yall.

A/N: Y/N was engaged to Ransom. Spoilers for Knives Out in this first part. This is for @ussgallifreyfics 550 follower writing challenge! Congrats! And you’re already over 700? Way to go!! I chose the prompts home and roses. Takes place during Civil War.

tag list is open

Flashback Y/N sits in one of the many ornate chairs in the livingroom, tears streaming down her face. Joni tries to comfort her while Linda holds her now 3 year old, Rosemary. Ransom runs after her trying to stutter out an excuse, not that he could. Detective Benoit Blanc and Marta both figured out it was him who killed Harlan, there was nothing that he could do that would get her to forgive him.

“Y/N, baby, please just listen to me.”

“No, Hugh. This-This is-ugh! How could you do something like this when we have a child? Linda, would you-” Linda nods and walks out of the room with Rosemary still in her arms. Y/N continues, “How am I supposed to explain to her that Daddy’s in jail and never going to see him again?”

He gives her an exasperated look that said ‘you’re ridiculous,’ “Never? Babe, come on. I’m going to get the best lawyers on my case and I’ll probably get no jail time. I’ll be in and out of court in a matter of days.”

“You literally killed your grandfather, Hugh.”

“Don’t call me Hugh. Only the help calls me that.”

“The help? Are you serious? God, were you always this insufferable and I just didn’t see it? After all this you don’t deserve to be called Ransom. And you know, I love your whole family. They’ve been great helping you with Rosemary while I’ve been gone. Your mother I can clearly tell has enjoyed all the grandma time...”

He speaks through clenched teeth, “What are you saying?”

Y/N begins to take the beautiful ring that has been on her finger or around her neck for the last three years. “I’m saying that it’s over, Hugh.”

She takes it fully off and walks over to him, setting it on the entryway table beside him. Now in cuffs, he just stares at it and back at her. She can tell he’s upset, maybe a little heartbroken, but not a single tear falls from his face. Noticing this just breaks her more. She backs away as tears begin welling up in her eyes.

“I really did love you.”

And with that the cops take him out and put him in the back of their car.

The family has their own drama now having to deal with Harlan giving literally everything to Marta and nothing to them. In that sense, Y/N is relieved to not be tied to them anymore. Though she is still going to miss them.

She picks up her phone and calls one of the only people she would at a time like this. “Hello?” “Sergeant. How are you on this fine day?” “Better now that I’m talking to one of my favorite people.” She can hear the smile on his face. “How are you, Y/N?” “Fine, Sammy.” He knows what she really means when the nickname is used. “Y/N, what happened? Do you need me to pick you up?” “No. It’s okay, I have a car. Is that spare room still open though?” “Always for you.” A sad smile appears on her face. “Rosemary and I may need it for a few days.” “When will you be here?” “Later tonight. I’ll text when I’m close.” “Okay, see you then.” “Bye, Sammy. Thanks.” And with that she hangs up.

“Mama?”

She wipes away any remaining tears and turns with the best smile she can muster, looking down at the light of her life. “Yes, flower?”

“Who were you talking to?”

“An old army buddy. Do you remember Sam? You met him about a year and a half ago.”

“Mm-mm.” she shakes her little head.

“That’s okay. Would you like to meet him again?”

“Is he in Afstan?”

“Afghanistan?” Y/N chuckles, “No, he’s in DC. Just a car ride away.”

“Then yes! I want to remember him.”

“Okay! Well, there’s no time like the present, so why don’t we pack up our things and put them in the car?”

“What about Gramma, and daddy, and Marta, and Megan, and-”

She cuts off her daughter, “Whoa there. There’s a lot going on right now after Paba went to heaven. They have a lot to work out. We can help them by going on vacation to see Sam.”

That seems to satisfy the 3 year old. She runs up the stairs to her room to begin packing, “Okay! Let’s go then!”

Present day Three. That’s how many tours Y/N has been on now. Not that she doesn’t like it. She loves serving her country. But, it’s just too much time away from her daughter. Years she’s missed out on her daughter growing up. She explains as good as she can and hopes that her daughter understands. Mommy leaving a year at a time and having to stay with Uncle Sam is a lot for a toddler’s mind to take in, however.

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/N stretches as good as she can in the cramped plane seating. She opens the small shade and looks out the plane window. Water, but she has a feeling they’re close. She slept for a while. Not a moment later, the flight attendant’s voice comes over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Virginia, Washington Dulles International Airport. We should land at approximately 5:50pm, which is just under an hour from now. Please turn off any electronics and stay seated and buckled up until we land and the seatbelt sign is turned off. Thank you for flying United and we welcome you to America and our Nation’s capital.”

The next hour is filled with nervous excitement as Y/N thinks about finally being home and seeing her Rosemary again. It had been a long, hard year in Iraq and she was ready to relax and have a fun summer with her and Sam.

They land and everyone files off the plane. As she walks through the airport, she gets a few salutes and ‘thanks for your service.’ She just smiles back as she looks for something to eat. After doing so, she beelines for baggage claim. Coming down the escalator, she sees many posters welcoming family members and other soldiers home. It doesn’t take long for her to find the one made for her. Bright blonde curls are holding it as best she can above her head and it makes Y/N laugh. It says Welcome Home Mommy! in gold glitter on bright pink paper. Not hard to miss. Little arms quickly bring it down as she trades the poster for what Sam was holding before running over to her.

Y/N crouches down, arms out as her little one barrels into her. Happy tears run down both their faces.

“Mommy, mommy, look!” she hands the flowers over so she can wipe her face. “They’re called roses. Aren’t they pretty?”

“They're beautiful, baby.”

“They have my name in it!”

She laughs, “They sure do.”

She stands up, carrying the bouquet in one hand, holding her daughter’s hand with the other as they walk to Sam. “Got anything for me?”

“Uh, no.”

She takes a sharp inhale, “Gotta step up your game, Wilson. You’re getting beat out by a four year old.”

He hangs his head in mock defeat but quickly brings it back up with his signature gap-toothed grin. She knocks shoulders with him as they continue their walk to baggage claim.

“So how has this year been with Sam, little one?” Y/N asks as they drive back to his place. “Was it so much fun?”

“Yeah! Did you know I turned four while you were gone?”

Y/N gasped, “No! I thought you looked taller.”

“Yeah! And on my birthday, Uncle Sam let my bestest best friends come to his house.”

“Ooh, I bet that was fun.” She side-eyes Sam who is smiling but shaking his head. She assumes having a bunch of kindergarteners is his house was not something he expected to ever happen.

“It was amazing!”

“How’s kindergarten going?”

“Good.” she answers with a shrug, “we’re learning letters and colors and shapes and how to count to a hundred.”

“Wow. You’re going to be smarter than me someday.”

She looks at her daughter in the rearview mirror who is just smiling. Only a few minutes pass before she’s out in her carseat. As if he was waiting for this moment, Sam speaks, “So, how was it?”

Y/N shrugs, “The usual, I guess. Nothing to report.”

“Okay.” he nods slightly “Can we talk about the other thing then?”

Y/N sighs, “Now?” she asks, trying to avoid the upcoming conversation.

“When else, Y/N? You avoid it by spending most of your time with Ro, and at night you don’t want to because you’re ‘too tired.’”

“I was just on a really long flight, Sam-”

“No. I don’t want to demand it out of you but don’t you think you owe me an explanation? I opened my house to you for five months, then I had to spend a year with your daughter and everyone thinking she’s mine, and having to explain that ‘no, mom’s in the army and i’m just looking after her.’”

“And you think that me telling you what happened in Boston is going to make your life easier? Sorry to be such an inconvenience.” Y/N asks, defensively.

He takes a deep breath, “You’re not. I’m sorry. It’s just, I let it go when you showed up because whatever happened was fresh. But then time kept going by and I thought you would bring it up on your own and you never did.”

She lets out the breath she’d been holding and nods slowly, “Yeah, well it was a lot to process. I’m going to give you the short version because that’s all I have the energy for right now.”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.”

She closes her eyes and takes another breath, “I’m sure you figured it out but I broke off the engagement with Ransom.”

“I did notice a lack of a ring when you first came. It must’ve been bad huh? You did love the guy.”

“Really bad.”

And he accepts that for now.

#gallifreys500 #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson x reader #avengers x reader #steve rogers series #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu ff #marvel ff #marvel #mcu

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smkkbert · 4 years

Text

Time for a story - Guilty

“You have put a lot of work into this project.”

“It’s a promising idea,” Felicity replied and perked up her eyebrows, “so why do you sound surprised?”

Chuckling, Bruce leaned back in his chair. He rested his right ankle on his left knee and folded his hands over of his abs. Without saying a word, he watched her for a moment. He was shaking his head slightly, barely visible even for her although she knew Bruce quite well by now.

Looking back at him without batting an eyelid, Felicity straightened up in her armchair a little. She wasn’t sure what exactly to do with his reaction. It actually made her long back to the days when he would have reacted to her presented idea by saying that it was a promising idea though he did think that the idea of their naked bodies rolling between the sheets.

Felicity appreciated the kind of friendship she had with Bruce now too much to want those days back, but she was almost sure that it would make things easier today.

“I am not surprised,” Bruce said with a low sigh, “because I know how much thought you put into everything you do. You wouldn’t suggest something like this lightly.”

This was true all the way. Felicity loved her work. She put as much thought and energy into bringing this company forward as she did into raising her kids or saving this city. She didn’t do any of this lightly.

Felicity narrowed her eyes at Bruce slightly. “I sense a but coming.”

“But,” Bruce said indeed, smiling at how well she knew him by now, “don’t you think it’s a little bit too much?”

Felicity frowned. “Have you met me?”

Bruce chuckled at that, telling Felicity that he knew exactly what she meant. She was known for juggling with several tasks at a time. Managing Queen Incorporated while raising five kids was not a small thing, even in a branch that was dominated by men. Bruce, as her friend, knew even better how many things she really had on her plate.

“All I am saying is-“

When Felicity’s phone rang, Bruce stopped.

“Sorry.”

Felicity hurried to take her phone and see that someone was calling from home. She frowned at that because, usually, when she got a call from home in the middle of the day, something had happened. The last time she had gotten a call at this time of the day, Raisa had called to tell her that she had picked up Emmy from school early since she had some terrible stomachache which had eventually resulted in all the kids falling sick one after the other.

Of course Felicity knew that she never had to take a call from home if she was in any important meetings. With Raisa, her kids had the best nanny at home. She was more than a nanny. She was like a grandma to them actually, the way she had always been some kind of mom to Oliver too. If she alone couldn’t handle something – which rarely ever happened – she knew that Donna and now Quentin were always up to take care of their grandkids.

Still, since Felicity had started working again and Oliver had turned his role as a stay-at-home dad for his position as the mayor, she had never not taken a call from home. Even though she knew that her kids were being taken care of the best they could, she just wanted to make sure that she was available for them after all. She was a mother by heart, and it was the most important ones of her jobs because it was the one she had decided to take even if she wouldn’t get an out for more than eighteen years, even if she tried to.

“I gotta hang up, Bruce,” she told him, already thinking about what was going on now, “so please just think about my idea. Maybe you are in, and we can convince Lena Luthor to join into this project too. Otherwise, I will find some other partners and-“

“I will think about it,” Bruce interrupted her, “and my answer will be yes. Just promise me that you won’t overwork yourself. You already look exhausted, and I just want you to take care of yourself and take some rests. Those are important.”

Felicity smiled. Bruce, who she knew never took a break himself because he loved his work as much as she did, advised her to lean back and relax a little. It just showed how much he cared about her and how his view on what was good for her was so much clearer than his view on himself.

“I have trouble lying back and relax.”

“I know it’s not your strength,” Bruce whispered, “and it’s not mine either. I need to be reminded of it again and again too. I am just doing that for you. As your work husband.”

Felicity chuckled. “Work husband. I like that.”

He winked at her. “Take care of yourself.”

“And you take care of you.”

Bruce nodded his head briefly before he ended the video call. Felicity looked at the black monitor for a moment longer. Soon she took her still ringing and vibrating phone and took the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, mommy.”

Felicity couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Tommy’s voice. She knew now that nothing bad had happened. Tommy, who had always been closer to her than to Oliver as he was a true mama’s boy, had probably just missed her.

Hearing his voice, Felicity finally realized how much she had missed hearing the voices of he kids too. This last week since Oliver had come back from Hong Kong, she had tried to catch up on all the work that had been left on her desk during the time he had been gone and she had made sure that the kids had at least one parent at home. Because of that, she had barely seen her kids all week. She had basically only seen them while they had ben asleep, kissing them goodnight after they had already found into sleep.

Those days, Felicity hated being a working mom. As much as she tired to deny it, she had to admit that she was feeling guilty for how little time she got to spend with her kids at times. She guessed it was what every working parents felt like, at least if they really wanted to be a good parents.

“Hey, Buddy,” she replied lightly, “how are you doing?”

“I miss you, mommy.”

Felicity knew that she should have been ready for Tommy to just babble out the truth like that, but she really hadn’t been. His words caused her heart to ache. They took her breath and made all that guilt she had tried to swallow down these last couple of days come back to the surface.

“I miss you too, Tommy.”

She really missed all of her children. The decision to have a big family had not been a decision that she had made lightly. Emmy had come as some kind of surprise to her and Oliver. Tommy had been planned for a little bit later, but sooner or later hadn’t mattered at the very end. Millie had been fully planned, even despite the misunderstanding surrounding her conception. Addie had been another surprise, just like Emmy or even more than Emmy actually, but Felicity and Oliver had made the decision to have her even despite the depression she had hit. Felicity barely remembered that conversation, but she knew that Oliver would have agreed to an abortion if she had thought that it was necessary for her to be happy.

All of her kids, even if the pregnancies hadn’t always been easy on her, were undeniably a part of her life now, and she couldn’t imagine life without any of them. Planned or not, prenatal depression or not, Felicity didn’t regret having any of her children. She loved every single one of them, and she loved them all the same.

“I need more time with you.”

Tommy’s words reached right into her heart it seemed. Bruce had told her to lie back and relax which usually meant spending quality time with her kids, but she hadn’t really let that too close to her. At least not until now.

When it came to her kids, Felicity knew that she was more than blessed. All of her kids were healthy and happy. They had talents and great hearts. The latter was also the very reason why they barely ever complained about how much they had to share their parents with other people or the city. They knew that they were doing necessary and important work. It was the only way Felicity could live with spending so much time at work instead of by their side.

“I know, Buddy,” Felicity replied with a low sigh, “I really need more time with you too.”

“Tonight, okay?” Tommy suggested. “Tonight you come home and you will read a bedtime story for me.”

Felicity smiled. Even though they hadn’t had a lot of time together lately, Tommy didn’t demand that she’d drop everything and work and come home right now. He knew that it would be an impossible demand because Felicity would want to do him that favor, but she wouldn’t be able to. At least she wouldn’t be able to without feeling distracted by all the work she would have to catch up on the next day. That was why all Tommy asked for was for her to come home at a reasonable time and put her to bed.

How could Felicity possibly say no to that?

“I will be there,” Felicity said, her voice as firm as possible, “I promise.”

Although Felicity couldn’t see it, she knew that Tommy was smiling all over his face. She could basically feel it deep in her bones because that was how well she knew her son.

“Okay.” Tommy’s voice proved that Felicity had been right. “See you later, mommy.”

“See you tonight, Tommy.”

With a smile on her lips, Felicity hung up the phone and ended the call. In moments like these, she felt like she had no words to describe how much being a mom meant to her. She rarely ever had the words for it which was weird since she always had something to say. Being a mom just meant so much more to her than any words could possibly fathom.

A low knock at the door made Felicity lift her gaze. Emily stood right outside the office, sticking her head in through the door though. She smiled at her.

“Felicity, Oliver’s press conference is starting in a minute,” she told her, “you wanted me to remind you.”

Felicity glanced at her watch to see that Emily was right. Oliver’s press conference did indeed start in a couple of seconds, well, or minutes since Oliver was rarely ever in time. Not even his position as mayor had changed anything about that.

“Thank you, Emily.”

“Of course.”

Felicity grabbed her tablet and opened the streaming service Channel Seven offered. The anchorwoman of the news show was still talking about some traffic struggles that had occurred downtown these last couple of days, causing several accidents. It wasn’t really a secret that Oliver was barely in time.

While it could be annoying sometimes, Felicity was thankful for Oliver’s lateness today. That way, she had time to grab her lunch now and eat it while she was watching the press conference.

Felicity reached into her purse and took out the small lunchbox that Oliver had thrusted into her hand right before she had left to go to work. She opened the box, hopeful to maybe find some chicken sandwiches or maybe that mozzarella pasta she loved so much. Instead, she found something that consisted of lots of vegetables.

Scrunching up her nose slightly, Felicity wondered why she had to be married to a man that loved healthy food so much. She deserved French Fries and burgers instead of whatever this was.

Groaning, Felicity picked some of the food with her fork and lifted it to her nose. She smelled at it, unable to deny that it did smell kind of delicious, before she pushed it into her mouth. Getting married to that man was definitely the best choice she had ever made. Even vegetables tasted like heaven when he was the one making them.

The scenery of the news changed towards City Hall where the brunette reporter that was usually sent to report about local politics was standing at the bottom of the stairs. A lectern was placed on the staircase, just waiting for the mayor to step behind it and talk about whatever there was new at City Hall.

While she was talking, Felicity took some more bites of her lunch. With the fork on the way to her lips, Felicity stilled at what she saw at the top right corner of her monitor.

Oliver was already standing at the gallery upstairs. He was somewhat hidden behind a corner. Most reporters probably didn’t see him, and whoever was standing behind the camera of Channel Seven didn’t notice or simply didn’t care. It didn’t matter anyway.

Felicity noticed though and she really did care.

Unlike most times when Oliver was giving any statement, he wasn’t upstairs, taking some deep breaths, alone. He wasn’t in John’s company either. Quentin, who had used to be there for a lot of occasions hadn’t been available for quite some weeks now because he had decided that it was time to quit his job and retire instead.

A tall brunette was with him. Although her back was turned towards the camera, Felicity knew exactly who it was. Those slim long legs in the tight black pants were easily recognizable. The slim waist was something that Felicity could easily recognize too. Last but not least, Felicity always recognized the hands of women that were touching parts of his body they should rather not be touching.

Apparently, McKenna Hall, the still somewhat new Captain of the SCPD, was trying to adjust Oliver’s tie. She was fumbling with the knot of it, trying to make it look perfect and put it perfectly into place too.

Felicity slid back and forth on her chair almost a little uncomfortably. She was feeling a weird stitching in her chest, a terribly sore and uncomfortable feeling. Her throat had grown tight, a thick clump feeling like it was choking her from inside out.

It had been a long time since Felicity had felt like this the last time. It had been so long that she barely recognized the feeling. She knew it was there, and she knew what it was though.

With an almost hysterical chuckle, Felicity pushed another fork of her lunch into her mouth and shook her head. It was ridiculous. It really was so ridiculous that a new word had to be found for it. It was more than ridiculous. It was hilarious probably.

Once more, Felicity stared at the monitor. Still, nobody seemed to have caught what was happening just a few feet away from all the cameras. All the cameras that Felicity could see were still directed at the reporters that had been sent to report from the press conference. They filmed their reporters while they were probably just recalling some barely important information to kill time instead of gathering some footage of how the Captain of the SCPD was now trying to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt.

As Felicity felt her eyes drawn to it, unable to look away, she quickly closed the window of the streaming service. Staring at the black monitor, she lifted her fork to her lips once more. Before it touched her tongue, she scrunched up her nose and put the fork back into the small bowl though. She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

Taking in a deep breath, Felicity moved her fingertips over the top of her desk. She straightened her spine, pushing her shoulders back a little. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and felt somewhat calmer when she opened her eyes again.

This was so ridiculous, and she wouldn’t let that allow her to lose her footing. Barely anything ever made her lose her footing. This wouldn’t do it either.

→ → → → →

Looking at how his kids were helping him with the dishes, Oliver couldn’t help but smile. After they had finished dinner, the kids had all wanted to head in front of TV or upstairs into their rooms, so they could read or play. When Oliver had told them that the one of them who would help the most while doing the dishes would get a hundred free kisses, they had become competitive though.

His kids loved each other, but they were quite competitive. They just weren’t competitive enough to not be fair to each other. It was why Emmy was always taking glances at her younger siblings, making sure that she wasn’t too fast. She even put some of the dishes and cutlery she had dried, to the piles of her siblings, so she wasn’t too far ahead of them. She was actually a little bit behind and-

Oliver’s thoughts came to a stop when he heard the front door being unlocked.

“I think mommy is home.”

That little contest about doing the dishes was completely forgotten now. All kids put the dishes they had been busy with aside, not even caring if they put it to the piles of their siblings. They just dropped everything as quickly as they could, so they could welcome their mommy back home.

Oliver couldn’t hold it against them. Even if there would still be a mountain of dishes to take care of instead of the few things that were, he wouldn’t hold it against them. They had barely seen their mother all week as Felicity had needed to catch up on all the things, she had missed out on at work during the week that he had been in Hong Kong. They had missed her terrible although they understood why she had needed to be at Queen Incorporated instead of their home.

Honestly, Oliver had missed her too. The home just didn’t feel the same without Felicity here. There was just something missing, something that made this house his home.

While the kids were all running towards the door already, Oliver stayed back in the kitchen for some moments. He wanted to give his kids the time to welcome their mommy home before he joined them.

Eventually, Oliver followed them. Stepping into the foyer, he found Emmy, Tommy, Millie and Addie surrounding their mother as they hugged her tightly. Felicity’s arms were barely long enough to hold the four of them close to her, but she did her best to do so nonetheless.

“I think daddy is jealous,” Emmy said with a chuckle, noticing Oliver’s gaze, “because he missed mommy too.”

“Just a little.”

Oliver lifted his hand, showing a small distance between his thumb and forefinger. Felicity lifted her eyebrows at that. She didn’t have to say the words for him to know if that was really what he was going with. After a week of not getting sex, he might want to correct his answer a little.

“Maybe a little more.”

Chuckling, Felicity tightened her arms around her kids for a moment before she let go of them to cross the distance towards Oliver. Her hands cupped his cheeks as she stepped towards him. Oliver put his hands to his hips, pulling her closer until her chest was pressed against his. Their lips met in a gentle kiss.

It was crazy how, even after all the years they had shared as husband and wife now, Oliver still felt his stomach fluttering when he was kissing Felicity the way it did now. No other woman had ever made him feel like that, not even during the kinkiest sex. Love just created more emotions than arousal could.

When Felicity eventually pulled back, Oliver licked his tongue over his lip, chasing her taste. He opened his eyes a moment later to find Felicity’s eyes already on him. With slightly narrowed eyes, she was watching him. It was impossible to say what was going on in her mind, so he just perked up his eyebrows, asking about it wordlessly. He just knew that she would understand.

Felicity already opened her mouth to reply, when she suddenly stopped. There was a beat of hesitation before she shook her head with a chuckle that Oliver wasn’t sure what to think of. The next moment, she was already turning away, back towards the kids.

“Can we stay awake a little longer tonight, mommy?” Emmy asked, looking at Felicity with the same big, blue eyes that Felicity always called puppy eyes whenever Oliver was using them on her. “It’s the first time this week that you are back home before we are in bed already.”

Of course Emmy knew exactly what buttons to push to get what she wanted. Reminding Felicity that they hadn’t had a lot of time this week served as a guarantee to get her what she wanted. Felicity couldn’t possibly say no to it, just like Oliver hadn’t been able to say no to it when he had come back from Hong Kong last week. It was just how they rolled as parents.

“I am all in for watching a movie with you guys tonight,” Felicity said, “and we will start it as soon as you are all ready for bed. Whoever is ready – which means in their pajamas and having brushed their teeth – first will get to decide what movie we are going to watch.”

The kids didn’t have to be told twice. Emmy, Millie and Addie all ran upstairs. They were screeching, telling each other that they would win. Oliver looked after them, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. He was sure that all of them would pick the same movie anyway. He knew his daughters well enough for that.

While the three had run upstairs, Tommy was still standing here. He had stepped closer to his mother, pulling at her dress to gain his attention.

“What’s up, Buddy?” Felicity asked, framing his face. “You look tired.”

“I am tired.”

Oliver perked up his eyebrows. They didn’t get to hear that from any of their children very often. Like most children, theirs likes to fight for every minute they got to spend awake longer, only to fall asleep on the couch two minutes later.

“Can I have my bedtime story now?”

Felicity chuckled quietly and kissed his forehead. “Of course. Go upstairs and make yourself ready for bed. I will be there in two minutes.”

“Okay.”

With that, Tommy hurried upstairs too. Oliver listened to how his son’s steps were growing quieter. At the same time, he watched the back of Felicity’s neck, still unable to shake the feeling that something was going on with him.

As soon as he heard the door to Tommy’s room closing upstairs, Oliver took Felicity’s hand and turned her back around to him. He watched her face, and, although she was perking up her eyebrows again, Oliver didn’t buy it this time. She knew exactly what he was thinking which only proved to him that he was right.

“What is going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Lie.”

Felicity almost pulled back a little at his word. They didn’t lie to each other often, and, at least most times, those were only those small, little lies you told for whatever reason. It was nothing bad. They neve lied when it was important. They were as open to each other as it was good for a married couple.

Oliver waited patiently for Felicity to tell him what was going on. He had time. He knew that she’d tell him eventually anyway. That was just how they always did it.

Puckering her lips, Felicity stepped a little closer to him. Her hand started stroking up and down his chest while she was watching his face. For a second, he thought that she was trying to distract him from the fact that he knew something was wrong.

A moment later, it clicked with him though.

“You saw the news.”

“Yes, I did.”

Felicity’s answer sounded matter-of-factly. The way her right eyebrow had perked up slightly made him know that Felicity wasn’t as uncaring about it as she tired to make it seem though.

“You’re jealous.”

The words escaped his lips before Oliver really thought about them. He hadn’t even really understood them. He had just seen that glint in her eyes and had known that she was right.

“I’m not jealous.”

Felicity tried to take a step away from him. When he wouldn’t let her do that, she just crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her jaws tightened as she bit down on her tongue. Her lips puckered, making her look feisty.

“I’m not.”

Oh, yes, she was. Felicity Megan Queen, his beloved wife, who had helped him to move on from all jealousy he had felt whenever she had been with Ray or Bruce or any other man, he had thought could make her happier than he could have, was jealous now.

She was so jealous. Oliver could barely bite back a chuckle. He wasn’t used to see her like that, and he couldn’t help but feel all the more enamored with Felicity.

Felicity seemed to noticed how delighted he really was about her reaction to seeing that news. She pushed her bottom lip forward a little, looking like Emmy when she was unsure if reasoning or pouting was the best way to get what she wanted.

“I have daddy issues,” she said eventually, defiant being her choice it seemed, “so I am allowed to be a little… pissed.”

“Jealous,” Oliver insisted, tapping the tip of his finger against her nose, “jealous is the word.”

With a groan, Felicity tried to turn away from him, but Oliver wouldn’t let her. He kissed her lips again and again and again, proceeding to pepper kisses all over her face.

Felicity had always said that jealousy wasn’t anything good. It wasn’t helpful. It didn’t do anything but creating chaos and pain. She had always done her best not to be jealous, staying true to her words. Sometimes, she had teased him, knowing that it did weirdly turn him on when she was jealous. Right now, it seemed like the first time that she was really, honestly jealous.

God, he just loved her so much!

Oliver continued to pepper kisses over her face, almost thanking her for being jealous. Weirdly, as many girls he had been with – even at the same time he had hated to admit even to himself now – he doubted that a lot of them had been jealous because of him. Laurel, who had loved him so much once upon a time, had known that he had been with other girls, but she had simply closed her eyes about that. Sara, who had known that he had been with Laurel, hadn’t seemed to care either as she had never asked him to leave Laurel or anything like that. With Helena, it had all ended before it had really begun.

Weirdly, the only person who had really seemed jealous had been Isabel Rochev. She had sensed that his heart had already been Felicity’s by the time they had been hooking up, and she had hated it so unbelievably much.

Chuckling, Felicity pushed him away eventually. She tried to look angry, but amusement was sparkling in her eyes.

“I have to go upstairs to our son.”

With that, she turned around and headed towards the stairs. Oliver pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants, watching her. By the time Felicity was already halfway upstairs, she shot a look back over her shoulder to where he was still standing. He winked at her, and, although she was shaking her head, she couldn’t bite back the wide smile on her face.

Oliver waited until Felicity had disappeared upstairs before he turned towards the kitchen and continued the dishes that he had the kids had been working at before.

He still couldn’t really believe that this had happened. Felicity, his Felicity, was jealous. After everything they had been through, she hated knowing that a woman, he had once been with, had adjusted his tie and smoothed some wrinkles from his shirt.

Fact was that the only reason this had happened was that he had been terribly nervous. The press conference today had had nothing to do with the vigilantism, but it had been the first since he had announced working with the vigilantes. That Felicity hadn’t been able to join him there hadn’t helped either. McKenna had caught up to it and had tried to distract him, not because she was interested in him, but because she was an alley when it came to his political decisions.

Emmy, Millie and Addie coming back downstairs pulled him from his thoughts. He dried his hands with one of the towels before he went to the living room. The three girls had already gathered there.

“Where is mommy?” Millie asked immediately.

“She is reading a bedtime story for Tommy,” Oliver explained with a smile, “so you have time to choose a movie together. You all came back downstairs at the same time, right?”

“Right.”

Emmy winked at him, and it was all Oliver needed to know that Emmy had willingly lost and convinced Millie to not win either, so Addie had a chance at winning too.

While the girls started debating which movie to watch, Oliver sat down on the armrest of the couch and watched them. He loved being a dad, but he was sure that his kids really made it easy for him. They were so perfectly caring about each other as well as people in general.

Eventually, Oliver wasn’t sure how much time had passed, Tommy came back downstairs. He was wearing his pajamas and no socks. He was holding Emmy’s pink giraffe, the one she had owned since birth and was borrowing to Tommy sometimes, in his arms. He didn’t look as tired as he had probably been before. The little mommy-time he had had, had probably served him enough energy.

“Tommy,” Oliver said, “where is mama?”

“Upstairs.” Tommy smiled. “She passed out during reading.”

Oliver chuckled. “I don’t doubt that.”

“I read the rest of the story to her.”

“That makes me very proud,” Oliver told him, “so do you want to watch the movie with the others now?”

Tommy shook his head. “I want to sleep, but mama is taking too much space from the bed.”

Oliver chuckled. Felicity loved to take at least three quarters of the bed. It was part of the reason why he loved to sleep on top of her, keeping her from urging him to the edge of the bed where he couldn’t sleep without fear of falling out. The other, more important one, was that he loved to listen to the beat of her heart as he was asleep. It told him that he wasn’t alone in the world.

“Okay, I will make sure that you will have your bed all to yourself,” Oliver said, “but you have to give me some minutes.”

“Okay.”

Tommy didn’t even question Oliver’s request. He crouched down in one of the armchairs, clutching the pink giraffe to his chest and watching his sisters continuing to debate what movie to watch.

Oliver hurried upstairs towards Tommy’s bedroom. He leaned into the frame of the door and just watched the view he was offered. Felicity, still wearing the rosé dress she had worn to work today, was sprawled across the mattress. Her glasses were sitting on top of her nose askew, looking like they were about to break any second.

Smiling, Oliver stepped closer to Felicity. No matter how many times he had watched her sleeping, it would never not feel special to him.

Oliver approached the bed and stroked his fingertips over Felicity’s cheek. She sighed sleepily, grabbing his hand and lacing her fingers through his. Oliver’s smile widened. Even when she was asleep, Felicity was searching his closeness. He loved that.

Pushing his left arm under her knees and his right arm behind her back, Oliver lifted Felicity from Tommy’s bed. She snuggled closer towards him, seeking his warmth it seemed. Oliver’s smile widened once more, and he pressed his lips against her temple.

Tonight, Felicity would need some time to recover from her long week of work. She would get that in their bed. Right before he would exhaust her again the next morning.

* * *

Voting for my new multichapter just started, so feel free to cast your vote here.

* * *

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years

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The Once & Future Queen Pt.20

Camelot. Valley. Continued. (Queen Annis heads toward her niece as Morgana turns with a scowl and disappears into Caerleon’s army.) Merida: "What in heaven's name have you done?" Queen Annis: "Hello, Merida. What a pleasant surprise to see you." Merida: "You cannot trust Morgana, she's-" Queen Annis: (Interrupting:) "Allowed me to do what you could not? The once mighty Arthur Pendragon lies dead at my command, not yours. I should always have been the one to claim Dun Broch's throne after Fergus' death." Merida: "I am his daughter and rightful Queen of Dun Broch." Queen Annis: (Scoffs:) "Your people are welcome to you. I have just claimed half of all Camelot in Caerleon's name. You can barely control the members of your own clan." Merida: (When Annis turns to leave:) “Don’t be taken in by Morgana’s fine words. She is consumed by bitterness, it spreads within her like a disease.” Queen Annis: “Have you forgotten how Arthur killed your father? Do you not deny that you sought revenge?” Merida: “Yes, I sought revenge. But that doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do.” Queen Annis: (Laughs with derision:) “You are weak, Merida, as I always thought you were.” (Annis walks away. Hidden in the crowd, Morgana sees Xena and Gabrielle searching for someone. Suspecting that they mean her harm, Morgana turns her attention to Darian and, her eyes glowing, uses her powers on him. Grimacing momentarily, Darian shakes his head. Looking beside him, Darian pulls his long sword from Arthur’s chest and stalks toward his new targets. Spotting Morgana before she disappears further into the crowd, Anastasia turns to see the giant about to split Xena in two with an overhead swing. Thinking quickly, Anastasia uses her powers and Darian's sword disappears mid-swing. Turning to face their attacker, both Xena and Gabrielle draw their weapons.) Gabrielle: "By the gods, he's almost as big as-" Xena: "Grinhilda, I know!" (Ducking a fist from Darian, Xena rolls out of the way. Gabrielle fearlessly jumps onto the behemoth's back but is flung to the ground for her trouble.)

(Xena runs up behind Darian and slashes him across the back. The giant falls to his knees and Gabrielle kicks him down. Xena is poised to strike when soldiers surround them, aiming their crossbows while Agravaine looks on from above. Seeing Xena and Gabrielle stand back to back before being restrained and shackled, Merida surges forward, but is held back by Anastasia.) Merida: (Struggling against her:) “Let me go! We have to help them!” Anastasia: “No! No! We can't help them now. But we can help each other!" (Anastasia waves her hand and they disappear in a cloud of smoke.)

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. (Returning from the station, Regina walks along the pathway to admire Emma's handiwork.) Regina: "Hey." Emma: (Turns:) "Hey. Be careful not to trip over any branches." Regina: (Smiles, looking around:) "I'm very impressed." Emma: "Thanks. It's been needing a good going over for awhile now." Regina: "Haven't we all." Emma: (Chuckles:) "You're insatiable." Regina: "Only for you." (They kiss.) Emma: "I've raked the leaves, mowed the lawn and now I'm just finishing up with the hedges." Regina: "Well don't work too hard, you can always just do all this magically." Emma: (Wipes the sweat from her brow with her arm:) "Yeah, I know, but sometimes it's nice to do things the old fashioned way, get a good sweat going." Regina: "I can see that." Emma: (Smiles:) "Don't worry, now that you’re home, I'll use my magic to clear the rest up once I'm done." Regina: "Okay, good. Is Maria sleeping?" Emma: "No, I've got her picking apples from your tree. (When Regina raises an eyebrow:) Relax. (Leans down and picks up the baby monitor:) She went down about half an hour ago." (Tosses it to Regina.) Regina: (Catching it:) "All right well I'll leave you to it. But you know... (Curling her finger into one of Emma's belt loops and pulling her close:) if this is the kind of thing I'm going to be coming home to, I think our retirement is going to be pretty sweet." Emma: "Oh, you have no idea." (They kiss once more, pulling each other close with their free hands as Emma holds the chainsaw in one and Regina cradles Maria's baby monitor in the other.) Forest. Stream. (Lancelot and Guinevere walk along the forest path beside a stream.) Lancelot: “We’re not far now. This stream leads to the lake.” Guinevere: “How did you know?” Lancelot: “I’ve been here many times.” Guinevere: “No, not about the lake. How did you know my feelings for Arthur weren’t real?” Lancelot: “Well... because he’d only been back a day and there was no way you could have possibly forgiven him for those years he kept you by his side against your will.” Guinevere: “Did you suspect, even back then?” Lancelot: “I suppose I always held out hope that you would one day leave him, but I couldn’t have imagined Arthur capable of such an evil act.” Guinevere: “Well, they do say love makes you do strange things. Despite everything that came after, I believe Arthur truly did love me in the beginning.” Lancelot: “What he did to keep you was not an act of love. It was cowardly and unforgivable. Love is about finding someone and thinking about them all the time. It’s about caring about them more than anyone or anything. The Arthur I knew was only ever concerned about his destiny. He never deserved you, Guin.” (Their conversation is cut short at the sound of a rider approaching. Morgana rides through the woods and pulls her horse to a halt at the sight of them.)

Morgana: (Smiles:) “My my. What a delicious coincidence?” Lancelot: “Run Guin! I’ll hold her off.” Morgana: “Aw. How sweet.” (Guinevere begins to run as Lancelot pulls his sword and charges at Morgana. Urging her horse into a gallop, Morgana rides straight at Lancelot. Conjuring a lance into her hand at the last moment, Morgana almost decapitates Lancelot with it, knocking him down to land hard on the forest floor, unconscious. Laughing, Morgana drops the lance and turns her attention towards Guinevere.) A Short Distance Away. (Guinevere dashes through the forest, passing a tree and inadvertently snaps one of its branches in her rush. Morgana continues her pursuit and stops to look for any signs. Spotting the snapped branch, Morgana smiles and heads off in that direction.) Storybrooke. Granny's Diner. (Snow White and Henry sit together in a booth while Henry wears a stunned expression on his face.) Henry: "You're not serious?" Snow White: "Well why not? I'd say you'd be uniquely qualified for the position." Henry: "How did you come to that conclusion?" Snow White: "Henry, you've literally written the book on everyone in this town. Plus, growing up with Regina, you must have sat in on your fair share of Town Hall meetings?" Henry: "Yeah and I was bored out of my mind through all of them. I'm sorry, Grandma, but I'm not the guy you want to run as mayor." (Henry stands.) Snow White: "Promise me you'll at least think about it. It would mean working shorter hours and a heck of a lot less time spent in your car." Henry: "Hey, the taxi service might be a dead end job but at least it has the possibility of excitement. Listening to people complain all day and then going blind doing paperwork is about as far from where I wanna be as I can think of." Snow White: (Slides out of the booth:) "All right, so where do you want to be?" Henry: "I don't know... off on an adventure with my fiancee somewhere. As a matter of fact, I'm only back driving because Ella and I couldn't decide on where we should start looking for one."

Merlin: "I might be able to point you in the right direction." (Snow White and Henry both turn to look at the Sorcerer who sits alone at a table.) Henry: "You know where Ella and I can find ourselves an adventure?" Merlin: "Yes. I believe I know just the place." Henry: "That's great. Where is it?" Merlin: "Ah. Before I tell you, you must first do something for me." Henry: (Looks to Snow White who is unsure about this:) "All right, what is it?" Merlin: "You must promise me that you won't tell your mothers I had anything to do with aiding you on your quest." Henry: (Smiles:) "Deal." Swan-Mills House. (Regina checks in on Maria who's still sleeping soundly, laying on her back with her arms up over her head. Smiling, Regina wonders just what her child could be dreaming about. Although not prone to crying like her big brother was at this age, Maria would nevertheless refuse to sleep alone during Emma's prolonged absence. Indeed, Regina would often find herself watching Maria drift off on those sleepless nights they shared a bed. The fact that on the night of Emma's return, Maria resumed sleeping in her cot without fussing once, only helped confirm Regina's theory that her daughter didn't much like the idea of her mother spending her nights alone. Backing out of the room, Regina leaves the door ajar and heads towards the staircase. Stopping at the large window that overlooks the garden, Regina notices that Emma is still hard at work. Captivated at the sight of the muscles in her wife's arms flexing, accentuated by the perspiration glistening in the sunlight, Regina sinks down onto the window seat to continue watching the show.)

Forest. Continued. (Guinevere runs at full speed now as Morgana gallops through the woods. Guinevere falls, but gets up quickly and keeps going only for Morgana to catch up and cut her off.) Morgana: “Guin. Nice to see you again. Oh, you’ve forgotten. I’ve hunted these woods since I was a child.” Guinevere: “Morgana, please, we were friends once, were we not?” Morgana: “You misunderstand me. I only wish to help. The path to Camelot is that way.” (Morgana points.) Guinevere: “It’s you who has forgotten it seems. I know these woods, too.” Forest Road. Past. (Morgana and Guinevere ride through the woods with an escort.) Morgana: “You look troubled, Guin.” Gunivere: “I’m fine.” Morgana: “You’re very secretive these days. I’m beginning to think there’s a man involved.” Guinevere: (Scoffs:) “When do I get to meet any decent men?” (Suddenly, their party is attacked.) Sir Robert: “My ladies, you must follow me!” (The knight is shot in the back. Guin and Morgana are pulled off their horses. A knight kills the men holding them.) Morgana: “Guin! Head for the path! Go! (Guinevere and Morgana run up the hill, but Kendrick is waiting for them:) I warn you. I am the daughter of Uther Pendragon. He’ll have your heads if any harm comes to me.” Kendrick: “I have no intention of harming you. At least not yet. You’re much more valuable to me alive, Lady Morgana.” Bandit’s Camp. (Morgana and Guinevere observe the bandits from inside a tent.) Morgana: “He’s coming. You know what you must do?” (Guinevere nods.) Kendrick: “I trust you are comfortable?” Morgana: “I demand to know where you’re taking us.” Kendrick: “You’ll find out soon enough. We’ve a long journey ahead of us. Get some rest.” (Kendrick turns to leave, but Morgana walks out of the tent after him.) Morgana: “I wish to bathe.” Kendrick: “You wish to bathe?” Morgana: “I am the King’s daughter and accustomed to certain standards. I am sure you are quite contented to stink like a pig, but I am not.” Kendrick: (Speaks loudly so his men can hear:) “The Lady Morgana wishes to bathe! Who wants to help me guard her?” (Coarse laughter rises from the men.) A Short Time Later. (Morgana begins to undress by a stream, two men guarding her and Guinevere.) Kendrick: “You may find the water a little icy.” Morgana: “I’m sure I’ll manage. (Glances over to see one of the men holding on to Guinevere’s arm. To Kendrick:) If you were any kind of gentleman, you’d give me some privacy.” Kendrick: “Well, unfortunately for you I am no kind of gentleman. Now get on with it.” (Kendrick chuckles and moves closer to her. Morgana removes her outer garment and the second bandit lets go of Guinevere to get a closer look himself.) Morgana: “You can at least turn your backs.” Kendrick: “So you can make a run for it. Do you think I’m that stupid?” Morgana: “I think you’re very stupid. (Guinevere pulls Kendrick’s sword and Morgana hits him, Guinevere tosses her the sword and Morgana slashes both men. To Guinevere:) Run! (The men pursue them through the woods:) No, no, this way!” (Guinevere stumbles and twists her ankle, Morgana stops and goes back to her.) Guinevere: “Run!” Morgana: “Put your arm around my shoulder, come on!” Guinevere: “No, no, no. We’ll never outrun them, you must go on without me!” Morgana: “I’m not leaving you behind!” Forest. Present. (Morgana smiles at the memory.) Morgana: “I remember very well. Truth is, it doesn’t matter which way you go. As long as you’re around, the people will always love you more.” Guinevere: “Morgana, please...” Morgana: “I can’t say I blame them really. You are far too delicate a soul to be mixed up in all this, Guin. I think it’s time to take you off the chessboard and release you from your burdens. (Not sticking around to find out what Morgana means by that, Guinevere starts running. Morgana’s eyes glow and Guinevere screams as she is thrown against a tree. Guinevere falls to the ground, unconscious. Moving her horse to stand over Guinevere:) Nu bebiede ic þe þæt þu lætest þine flæsc sclice gelic nysse. Wyrþ deor!” (Morgana’s eyes glow and a golden shimmer glows over Guinevere’s body. Morgana leaves with a smirk.)

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. (Pleased at a job well done, Emma waves her arms in all directions, magically sending all the garden debris into the recycling bin. Brushing her hands together, Emma starts whistling a familiar tune while she gathers up her gardening tools. Her arms now fully laden, Emma turns around to walk back up the path when she catches sight of a vision sitting in the upstairs window. Emitting a long appreciative whistle, Emma drops the tools noisily to the ground as she stares up at Regina, who is clad only in her underwear where any passerby could see her.) Window. (Smiling at Emma's reaction, Regina crooks her finger at her, indicating that she should come inside.) Outside. (Smiling at her wife's brazenness and not needing to be invited twice, Emma walks towards the house.) Forest. (Merida walks several paces ahead of Anastasia, clearly agitated.) Anastasia: (Stops walking:) "So you're pissed at me, is that it?" Merida: (Rounding on her:) "I am furious at you. How could we just leave them there?!" Anastasia: "If we had stayed, we'd be prisoners too." Merida: "Not necessarily. We could have fought. You could've used your magic to-" Anastasia: "To what? Blast the soldiers out of our way?" Merida: "Well it would've been something!" Anastasia: "I understand full well that you only invited me into this little gang of yours because I have magic. But if I used it as callously as you think I should, wouldn't that make me just as bad as Morgana? (Merida says nothing:) You know I'm right." Merida: "Yeah, but I don't have to like it." Anastasia: (Smiles:) "Come on, it'll be getting dark soon and I'm starving. What say you catch and I cook?" Merida: (Softening:) "I wouldn't hold your breath, there doesn't look to be any signs of life out here." Anastasia: "Well, I could always give you a five minute head start, Merida." Merida: "Funny." Anastasia: (Spots movement in the bushes:) "Deer!" (They chase after a doe running through the woods. Splitting up, Anastasia slows to a walk while Merida carries on ahead. She spots the doe and it looks at her. Anastasia senses something and hears Guinevere’s weeping. Anastasia realises what’s happened when she sees Guinevere’s running reflection as the doe passes by a small puddle. Merida arrives and passes Anastasia before taking aim.) Merida: “Well aren’t you a beauty?” (Coming to her senses too slowly to react, Anastasia watches in horror as Merida fires.) Anastasia: “No!”

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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ameliamann · 4 years

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A Suicide Note

Well…. I’m not much of a writer but sharing my story in an attempt to bring hope to someone else and to bring light to such a dark topic is something that the Lord has been pressing heavily on my heart in the last few months. Anddd I’m finally listening and praying that someone reading this finds reason to persevere through whatever storm they are in.

Mmm… isn’t it fun when He stirs our hearts so violently that (even being the most stubborn human being on this earth), we have no other choice but to act…

So, here it goes. My prayer is that these random, scattered thoughts might bring the hopeless - hope, the fearful - courage, and to anyone else - encouragement to reach out to those around you… to ask “how are you?” and really listen… and raise awareness for an issue that is way too prominent to ignore in today’s broken world.

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It was October 22, 2012 that I was woken up to find out that my world would be completely flipped upside down. It was on this day that the word “suicide” became like a knife to my heart in my vocabulary and in conversations around me. It was on this day that despair, anger, confusion, and unimaginable grief crept its way into my days.

How is a girl just a couple months into her senior year of high school supposed to make sense of picking out a cemetery plot to bury the strongest man she has ever known? How was I to make sense of knowing that the same hands that held me so tightly days before telling me how proud he was of me would manage to pick up a gun and pull the trigger. The same dad that drove to Charleston to surprise his little girl at a soccer tournament a week before…the one that would go out of his way to make sure that his family was provided for… the same man that could brighten an entire room with his smile (seriously, he could).. the one that made everyone around him feel loved, cared for, appreciated, the one that listened to me when I learned a new rap and laughed in the car with me, watched me dance like a fool and smiled ear to ear, got on the ground and played London Bridge with my sister and I until we were embarrassingly too old to do it anymore,

How does a 17-year-old girl make sense of a suicide letter written from the same man that left “I love you” letters on a napkin in her lunch box…

Suicide befriends loneliness…..darkness. It seems like the answer to fear, hurt, emptiness, a broken heart; to the weary, the lost, the burdened, the ones who feel like they have no more fight left in them.

SUICIDE DOESN’T HAVE TO BE THE ANSWER.

What if we started truly LISTENING to the ones around us? What if we began to pay attention to the silent cries for help from the ones we love? What if instead of being so caught up in our own lives, we took a second to save someone else’s?

It will be 3 years since my dad passed away in just 2 weeks, and if there is one thing I’ve learned it is that tragedy may try to end the story for us – but wisdom, strength, courage, and hope will turn the page and life will go on. It may be painful; it may be rocky; it may be confusing, but our story continues to be written.

In the 3 years following losing my dad, I tried to satisfy my soul with every worldly desire there was… any thing that would fill the void that losing my first love left me with… sports, grades, relationships, acceptance, popularity, reputation… you name it. And at the end of the chasing, I found myself feeling even more broken, emptier, and longing for far more than any of that could ever offer me.

Give up your efforts to solve your own problems. Give up your every effort to ignore the pain in your heart and continue trying to hide it with outward appearance. Stop pretending like you have it all together. Get to the core of whatever it is that is keeping you up at night alone and hurting and surrender it to someone who can bear the weight of your brokenness. Surrender it to the God who created you knowing you would be feeling every bit of what you are feeling and wants GOOD things for you. Don’t fall into Satan’s stupid little lies telling you that you aren’t enough or that you should give up.

You can still have joy, peace, purpose. What you’ve been through hasn’t killed what is in you. Make your choice! There IS a light at the end of the tunnel and there IS a reason to live because the GOD OF THE UNIVERSE created you for SOMETHING. Your existence wasn’t a surprise to Him. The GOD OF THE UNIVERSE is fighting for you. He understands you more than anyone else. He’s the only one who knows the answer to the question we so often ask: “WHY?” Let His love and purpose for your life be the light.

What you’re going through right now hasn’t caught Him off guard. He knows. And he has placed people around you specifically for you to be vulnerable with. And vulnerability is where hope is found. And attentive conversations are where truth is revealed. Don’t be afraid to tell someone how much you’re hurting. And for everyone else, don’t be afraid to be a listener… fates will change because of your compassion and willingness to listen.

So.. if you’re reading this and feeling battered and torn by the storm you are in right now, know that God does have a plan and wants to walk through this storm with you. Man was that something people loved to say right after dad died. “God has a plan, Amelia. Lean not on your old understanding…” Holy mess I can’t tell you how aggravated that made me. But now that I’ve run from him and tried to do it alone, I can truly say that walking WITH Him is the only answer. It’s the only way to find peace and understanding in life’s sufferings. I would’ve never experienced Jesus for who He is if I hadn’t been stripped of everything that I valued so much. Respond in faith rather than fear and let God’s words dominate your thoughts when life gets messy.

My dad knew Jesus because just a month before he ended his life, he told my baby sister and I – with tears streaming down his face – in the McDonald’s drive thru line at 3:45 PM (getting hot fudge Sundays for an afterschool snack) that he had given his life to Christ at church the Sunday before. He attended a service with my grandmother (his mom) and told me that in all of the years of our family going to church, he had never experienced something like he experienced that morning. He told us that He felt the Holy Spirit speaking to him and telling him “it was all going to be okay.”

After the passing of my dad, grandma told me the same story with a little more detail - dad was holding her hand during the closing prayer at church, began to cry, got up and walked to the altar, got on his knees in surrender, and walked back to his seat beside her.

My dad didn’t end his life because he didn’t know Jesus; in the midst of losing all hope and joy, he did what we all do time to time - took his eyes off of Jesus and began focusing on the hard circumstances he was facing. And boy do we all know how dangerous that can be….

What a GOD GIVEN blessing it is to have been able to have this conversation with my dad and to know that my hero’s new home is in HEAVEN. Peace is found in knowing that my dad no longer suffers from depression, heartache, fear, or anything else. He is free from all pain now.

I miss him more than anything in the world. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t come across something that reminds me of him. Losing someone that I held so close to my heart has made me value the relationships around me so much more. It has opened my eyes to the importance of making others feel loved. I didn’t use to be someone who easily discussed feelings, emotions, or complimented people. I didn’t used to know how to say, “I love you” to people without feeling awkward. Death of a loved one has awakened me to the fact that time is precious. Let someone know how valued they are today. Be vulnerable with people around you because I guarantee you, someone around you is battling the same things you are. Don’t let this temporary pain take away from the incredible plans that the Lord has for your life.

Your sufferings don’t define you, but your ability to grow in response does.

Thanks for reading;

#suicideawareness

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kchatjjigae · 5 years

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Surprising lack of images to go along with this post. Turns out, when one is shopping, one forgets to document for posterity. Don’t you worry, I’m similarly irritated with myself. That being said, we have an interesting and different day in Korea. There’s a moment when you’re getting to the end of your trip, you’ve hit your highlights and are like…what else is there to do? Don’t get me wrong, we knew there was tons of stuff left to do, even now there are things on our to-do list we kick ourselves for not getting to either due to distance, forgetfulness, or simple ignorance. So…we wing it. And end up having a really great day…including meeting future Mr. Stephanie, my very own Milk Tea Coffee Prince.

First off, let me say, you’re going to wander around these posts and say, “Why didn’t you go here, or you forgot to go there.” Undeniably true. One of the places of note that’s on a lot of people’s list and was on ours as it looks incredible was Ihwa Mural Village. Let’s just say it now, we didn’t go. We planned on it, things happened, I did more research and found out the people who live there? Turns out a good portion of them actually hate what they are known for. Hate the fact that these murals have turned where they live into a tourist attraction. To the point where some of the murals have been painted over in an attempt to stop the buzz.

It made me feel really off about going. So we right or wrong, we didn’t go. But we still got our mural on. In my research, I found another, lesser-known mural village known as Ant Villiage who put up their own murals once upon a time in an attempt to do what Ihwa is fighting against. It wasn’t as successful as they wanted it to be, and in the end, the murals have fallen into age and disrepair.

Which for SaraG and I, made it that much more of a lure.

No, for real! On our date we were going to go to the remains of an abandoned amusement park where you can wander the property, viewing the broken relics of the past. Sounds amazing. Unfortunately, it also seems like it was far away and hard to get to and by then? I hate to say it, my super adventurous spirit was weary. Yes, this remains high on the list of things I kick myself about now. Heads up whoever goes with me next. We’re going. Get over it, it’s happening.

So all these things we didn’t do, perhaps I should, I don’t know, tell you what we did do? Because it was a lot.

Remember SaraG and her pink hair? Well, fun SaraG fact? Hair color will not stay in her hair. At all. Throughout our stay, her hair turned from vibrant shocking pink to a soft pastel. It was fun to see the change. We woke up this morning, and SaraG decided she wanted to go and get a haircut and I decided it would be hilarious to watch her get a haircut in Korea. Spoiler alert? It was a lot of fun. This, of course, means we needed to find a place to get this done. Not only did we have to find a hairdresser, but we had to find one that was open, which in the morning hours of South Korea? Not as easy as one would think.

We had a plan! Coffee! (For me, SaraG doesn’t do coffee.) Breakfast! Hair! Ant Villiage! …….something else TBD!

Getting dressed in our newest finery, purchased from the streets of South Korea itself, we hit the streets after the usual, Egg, Passport, Wallet, Phone, Key check. All in place? Yes? Let’s go! We hit the streets, eyes to the second floors of buildings where the non-shopping, non-coffee shop businesses all seemed to live, looking for anything that looked like a place that might cut hair.

Towards the end of our street, before we hit the main fairway, we made the fateful decision to stop into a particular coffee shop we passed by every day on our way to…everything. One we’d never been in before (another thing I will always regret). We’ve been here for a week now. A WEEK. And we’ve only ever chosen to go to the slow coffee ahjussi up the street. Why am I so worked up over a coffee shop? Well, this was when I walked in and I found him. Future Mr. Stephanie. My Milk Tea Coffee Prince.

He worked the small shop by himself, with a helpful, awkward, and yet inviting smile. He wore a white button-up shirt with his dark hair. He was lovely. I know I said this a lot, but it was literally a fanfic or drama moment come to life. Its almost as if he had a glow filter shining above him.

We ordered our coffee and tea while I tried to take a picture without appearing creepy, knowing later I would need photographic evidence. Unfortunately, I can’t do anything without appearing creepy and awkward, so the photo was pretty much a fail. But the coffees were terrific.

Le Sigh, my beautiful coffee prince.

As much as I would have liked to have whipped out my computer and sat there to work the rest of the day, i.e., sat there writing moody fanfic with him as my lead, we had a mission and a plan. Coffees at the ready, a reluctant goodbye to Future Mr. Stephanie, and we were off.

Following the route Leila, Alix and I had taken the previous day, we walked through the quiet streets of Hongdae, on the hunt for a hair place. And then, across the street from this weird pirate boat-shaped building, we found it. Not only were they open, but they had an appointment right then! So, SaraG filed her things into a locker, I found a seat within eyeshot of my friend and the people coming at her with scissors and sat to FB chat with Thea who was very excited about the whole experience. A guy was sitting next to me, who was apparently with the guy who was getting his hair cut in the chair across from Sara’s, kept smiling at me and telling me it wouldn’t be too much longer and I could have a turn. Dude. I have curly hair. One does not trust randos with curly hair. It’s just not done. SaraG will tell you she had two ladies working on her, one who was doing the cut and another, we guessed an apprentice, who watched, periodically gently brushing the hair away from SaraG’s face with a broad brush.

Interesting. Before too much longer, she was done! Come on everyone, doesn’t this hair look great?

Not only did SaraG come out with a great new haircut, but she also managed to find us a bathroom. Winners all around.

Once we were done, we decided it was time to show her haircut off to the world, and when I mean the world, I mean Ant Villiage. But first? Some sustenance! My new favorite food in Korea turns out was tonkatsu. I was there for two weeks, I ate it three times. Although, if we’re counting, I ate triangle kimbap like 13, so maybe that’s the food winner of the trip.

We hopped a bus and rode our way to the base of the mountain before following the road up, up, up, realizing we took a wrong turn, went down, down down, took the left that took us through a building (yes, this was on the map) and then headed up, up, up again. Man! Our butts had better look fantastic after all of these stairs we’ve done.

Of course, we’d probably have to stop eating hoteok and street waffles for that to happen, so probably not. One time, as we were trudging upwards, we were lapped by a bus, which made us realize there WAS a bus service up this vertical climb to death and kicked ourselves.

BURN.

Finally, we reached a village, that was hit hard by age and poverty. There were murals on the wall, you could see where someone had once cared, some places still tried to care, but it had a tired age to it. Somehow, this is not the Korea you see in Kdrama, not even with our saddest attic cat heroines. But it’s a reality that exists everywhere, and it was good to see it. We wandered the streets, looking at the paintings. Looking at the buildings patched together with bits of other buildings. Even here we were able to find a clean public bathroom and people who smiled and nodded to us.

The bus that passed us came back as we were getting ready to leave and we considered catching it but decided no, we’d come this far, by fudge we were going to walk back down. Stephanie and SaraG are no quitters!

Walking back down to the subway, we decided to catch a train towards another shopping area that the guidebooks had mentioned. We’d decided we had so much fun the day before poking and wandering, that we wanted to give it another go. This time we were in the large buildings of the fashion district, which was actually stall upon stall, floor upon floor of clothing sellers. Or, actually, sellers of everything you could think of. Knowing we’d already purchased more than would fit into our bags, we’d been on the lookout for a new bag to take home with us. We found it here in matching overnight bags, sold to us by an old man with rows and piles of various bags. While I believe on sight, Ms. Alix dubbed it a grandma bag, I love it and use it to this day.

The number of stalls just piled high with clothing was both amazing and overwhelming. The ahjummas who ran them mostly sat in bunches, eating or chatting to one another. Some of them talking to their friends/competitors across the piles. Many of them crouched in front of tiny TVs as they watched whatever drama was on. Some stalls were neatly organized, with sizes and a small variety of neatly cared for inventory, but for the most part? It was like a clothing free for all. Think your bed on laundry day. We had a fun time wandering through digging our way through piles, some of the saleswomen engaging, trying to get us to purchase, but most of them? They pretty much ignored us, we were tourists and not really welcome. This sounds like it’s a bad deal, but it’s not. We couldn’t communicate with them. A lot of the ladies were older, and to them, yeah, we probably were nuisances who were there just to look and not buy. We watched them as they went about their own lives, and we were not part of it. It was reality.

It was also overwhelming, and after about 2 buildings, I burnt out pretty fast. Luckily SaraG was good to go too, and we headed out.

From here we were not sure as to where to go next. We walked the Cheonggyecheon stream for a short time, the sounds of the stream and the people chilling beside it a reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the buildings below. After some discussion, we decided to head back to Insadong and found our way back to the subway station. But not before a stop off at another one of the National Treasures. You know, popping by as one does. This is Heunginjimun Gate, the east gate of the Seoul City Wall. Just as impressive as it’s sister gate and it’s not at all irritated it has to share the top National Treasure spot with it. (Come on, I think these are probably worthy of their own, separate entries.)

Moving onwards, the path to Insadong was not quite as successful as other ones I’d lead us on, and we missed our stop by…a bunch and ended up coming back above ground at the Sejongno, Gwanghwamun Plaza. Which, for me, was perfect! Previously, I’d regretted that I hadn’t had a chance to see the two iconic statues up close, not through a dirty bus window. Luckily, SaraG was a trooper, and at my “Can we, please?” Was totally cool heading up there.

Interesting, as we walked up, we passed a Trump protest, or a shaming the Korean government for working with Trump protest. It was an interesting thing to experience as an American.

The statues were incredibly impressive as we looked at them in person. Your tv screen can’t really do them justice, especially with the background of modern technology, the places. It had an old meets new feel — which was fitting for this particular king.

One thing I do have to say is there was a large structure in front of the King Sejong statue, so you couldn’t really get a great straight-on shot. First, we thought it was for a certain event, but realized, nope, that shit was permanent. Hmmm… Seems like someone should have thought that stuff out in advance.

Once we got to the statue, we realized that there was actually a museum down beneath it. Sure, why not?

Underneath, we were pretty much the only ones there. We looked around, got a chance to sit on a throne replica, and learned about all the things King Sejong The Great did during his reign.

Spoiler alert? A lot! He was definitely one of those famed renaissance men, with varied skills and interests, or knew how to get the best from the skilled and interested people around him. Total Sungkyungkwan Scandal feels.

Heading back above ground, we continued our hunt for Insadong, which we knew was between the two palaces, but noting our luck finding the right palaces, this wasn’t as much of a slam dunk as you would think. We meandered the streets, dodging people who were busy about their day, just poking around….until we had the second most amazing moment of the day. (Remember our Milk Tea Coffee Prince?)

We’re wandering the streets, then suddenly looked up and, in the middle of this big city found a temple celebrating the lantern festival. It was actually a famous temple which was heavily listed on a lot of to-do lists, but here we are, whoops, there it is. It felt as if all of the temples we’d seen so far, in their various states of readiness had all been building up to this point. This quiet little nook in the big city, covered in lights. Respectful as there was a service going on, we ducked inside and took it all in. There was the main temple with a gate and a few outbuildings. A tree, it’s branches hidden by lanterns, covering it all.

It was beautiful. It was again one of those moments where it seemed like time just slowed down. A reward for our day. Amazing what a wrong subway stop, a wrong turn after a long day will get you.

After soaking in our fill, we continued on our way, even more, determined to find Insadong. And we did! We meandered the streets, finding some cute shops where, surprisingly, not only did SaraG find clothing to purchase, so did I! And on sale too!

Our stomachs told us it was time to find some food and we put our adventurer shoes on again, headed down the tiny alleyways, knowing we were doing our previous tour guide, Gloria proud, we found the more traditional section, peered into a restaurant, and jumped in. We chose a ‘set’ and some makkoli and waited. I loved the idea of a set (a pre-chosen menu) as I’d seen it in dramas several times. Ours was a small set, but you wouldn’t know it from the table full of food they placed before us.

We took turns trying everything, tiny dabs of all sorts of different foods, some we’d had before and some unfamiliar. It was a pretty great experience and, after that and much makkoli… Stephanie was a little tipsi.

Just a little.

Turns out, SaraG doesn’t love makkoli and who am I to let a bottle we paid for go to waste? The New Englander in me couldn’t let that stand.

Once we were done, we continued about our way on the streets, watching a non-Hongdae busker playing the violin. It was lovely. Tipsi Stephanie was very appreciative.

Deciding we’d had enough adventure for the day, we decided to head home. Though not before another trip to Hongdae for some chocolaty patbingsu.

Mmmmmm Tipsi Stephanie Likes.

Korean Adventure Day Thirteen: Milk Tea Coffee Prince Surprising lack of images to go along with this post. Turns out, when one is shopping, one forgets to document for posterity.

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earthvsjazz · 5 years

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How to Properly Watch Poltergeist - By EarthVsJazz

A Guide To Watching My Favorite Movie of All Time (1982)

Listening to: Doug Stanhope Podcast #312

Playing: With iMovie trying to put out My First YT Reaction Video

Eating: Dollar General Sour Neon Crawlers (Gummy Worms)

Drinking: Soda

Smoking: Colorado Best Dabs “Mother Earth”

The other day I had the Pleasure of watching Poltergeist the other day with some of the people from the cast on Rabbit (Link Below)...

Back in the day, This was a tradition for me. On Halloween...I didn’t dress up or pass out candy....but I would have a certain ritual that I invented to make me happy while enjoying my favorite movie of all time...

Over the last couple of months I have been collecting some Poltergeist Memorabilia and I realized that it had been too long since watching this movie...

I gave this list on cast the other day...but I wanted in depth to be able to show others how I would go about enjoying any of three movies in this series...

So here is a list of How to Properly Watch Poltergeist:

#1 Own Poltergeist

This might seem redundant to say, but in todays world it’s easy to forget that people used to buy movies...I come from the world of Video Stores, My Father worked in Video Distribution for years, I still remember the Huge show room floor, where I would spend hours looking at every movie cover..

My Parents used to Own a Video Store, As a teenager (1998-1999)I worked for Hollywood Video when DVD’s first came out....I was with Blockbuster from 2005-2008 right before the Titanic Sank..and was replaced by Redbox...I was there for it all...

I want to stress that everyone should have this movie in their collection...Not on the Cloud...Tangible, physical Media that you can put on your shelf...If you can’t there are other popular Streaming services that have this movie...Own it, don’t steal it...You’re better then that..(Enjoy a stock photo of the 80′s Big Clamshell VHS version)

#2 Watch with Someone

Yes this is an important Step...Not to be taken likely...I’ve Said this on cast...I will say it here, and I will one day make a T-Shirt

“Being Alone Should Be Illegal” - EarthVsjazz

The best way to enjoy this movie, and to make sure that future generations continue to enjoy this cinematic masterpiece is to watch with Friends or Family..A loved one....A Co-Worker, Your Grandma, Your Cousins, anyone you can invite to watch this will do..

Bouns Points: Someone who hasnt seen it.

Double Bonus Points: If that someone also is under 10, and hasn’t seen it yet. This movie terrified me as Child...

#3 Turn Down the AC!

It Needs to Be Cold. Like Really COLD! Colder then You have ever had your AC...If at all possible rent a Hotel, or cover your entire house in loose broken ice cubes from your refrigerator...

I recommend watching this in the Dead of winter, or hacking your AC system to allow for colder then normally possible temperatures...

I cannot stress this enough....If you have the chance to watch this movie in a igloo,ice cave or Fortress of Solitude...Take the Chance...YOLO!

This Step should be done during the prep for the movie to ensure maximum viewing pleasure...

*Life Hack: If you are unable to get your AC unit to the proper temperature (69°F or Below) Top off with Freon .

#3 Meal Prep

Supplies Needed:

1 - Bowl, Possibly Ceramic...If you’re not a knuckle dragging neanderthal, you should already own some Stoneware on hand...

*Life Hack...Cover in water and Place in Freezer for at least 20 Min before showtime

1 - 1/2 Gallon of RED LABEL WHOLE MILK (Depends on how many Guests you are entertaining)

This is non-negotiable...I cannot and do not drink Milk anymore...It destroys my insides up like Broken Glass...but that doesn’t mean I can’t live vicariously through you the reader...No Almond, Soy, Powder, 2%, None of that will do..If you drink Skim milk, you should stop torturing yourself....WHOLE MILK that is as cold as you can get it with out actually freezing it.

1 - Giant Bag of Coco Dyno-Bites

If you live overseas I’m not mad at you...but if you live in the Good Ol’USA you have a Dollar General or Walmart and they sell Giant Bags of Cereal...Then you are in luck....

*Yes, you are free to choose any cereal you so desire, but if you are still reading this, then the purpose of this particular article is to have the specific “EarthVsJazz™ Poltergeist Experience”

1 - Spoon *Also Stored in Freezer

1 - Napkin *As Needed

*Life Hack, Have materials ready on hand, but do not combine milk to cereal before you are comfortable and all other preparations have been met..

Remember Kids!

Always “Pour At the Lion’s Roar”!

(No one Says that I just made it up)

#4 Surround Sound

I cannot recommend enough the importance of Surround sound when viewing this movie. Especially if you are viewing this Digitally or Remastered Versions it is essential..A Soundbar will not be enough, the viewer must have a subwoofer as well as 5.1 or above calibrated Surround Sound to ensure maximum viewing pleasure..

#5 Turn off the Lights!

Once you have all the requirements met...Place any additional items that might be needed by you...Extra Blankets, Pets, Drinks Etc....

When Completed it is now nessesary to TURN OFF THE LIGHTS...Mute your cell phone, and get ready to Pour the Milk as described in Step 3

*Life Hack: Use Dark Blankets or Flex Seal to get rid of unwanted light sources.

If someone in your group suggests that they only saw the remake...Unfriend them and ostrasize them from your group or tribe...Keep in my mind I did not see the remake, but thats not the point...I can hate things Ive never seen before and never gave a chance.

#6 Final Thoughts

Matt Suggested that the viewer should not wear pants during the movie...Normally I would include this on my list, but I feel it would be conterintuive to the low temperatures described above...so I leave it as an honrable mention..

I really enjoyed putting this post up..and wish I had more subjects to blog about...My lifestyle consists of Chinese food/Jerk off/repeat...so when I actually get inspired to an actual blog post..I jump at it..That being said..if you have any subjects that you would like me to cover or talk about Please LMK..

I pride myself on trying as hard as I can to provide original content and wish I could do this more..

This is my favorite movie of all time..Im not even sure why..But it has always had a special place in my heart...

If you tried the techniques described here I would really love to know if it added to the experience.

I know this is TLDR but I do appreciate it...Feedback is more then appreciated..

Thanks for your time

- EarthVsJazz

#earthvsjazz #poltergiest #poltergeistthemovie #howto #lifehack

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yellowpeach · 5 years

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For the film asks, all of them? (2010/Chris Evans/Brie Larson/Edgar Wright for the *insert here* questions)

ahh!!! thank you so much for asking anon! this will take a while so i will probs stick most of it under a cut :)

a movie you’ve seen most times in cinema.

i answered this one here!

your most rewatched movie.

that’d be between toy story, the lord of the rings trilogy, moulin rouge, to all the boys i’ve loved before and this weird animated film called tubby the tuba. my grandma owned it on vhs and i spent basically every school holiday at her house so i watched it more times than i can think of!

a movie you quote on a daily basis.

i quote dumb youtube videos more than films on a regular basis, but i do quote a lot of lord of the rings lines like “it comes in pints?!” or anything else that comes out of one of the hobbits mouths.

favorite movie soundtrack

probably moulin rouge? that or the first guardians of the galaxy. they’re the only two that i still own on CD..

top 5 films of your favorite actor and actress

okay so my initial thought for favourite actor is actually tom hanks, so in that case.

forrest gump

philadelphia

toy story

the green mile

larry crowne (not the most amazing film in the world but it’s so endearing to me!)

and for actress i would probably say toni colette? her or blake lively, but i don’t have a top five for either of them. for toni it’d be;

about a boy

muriel’s wedding

miss you already

and for blake it’d be;

a simple favor

the age of adeline

elvis and annabelle

top 5 performances of your favorite actor and actress.

see above, they’re one and the same to me.

a movie storyline you wish you had actually lived.

about time. might be biased since i’m watching it now, but it’d be nice to do things over if i could.

a movie that reminds you of your mum.

local hero. i’ve watched it with her many times and it’s one of her favourites.

a movie that reminds you of your dad.

any of the harry potter films. we went to all of them at the cinema together.

favorite movies from your childhood.

it’s gonna be toy story again. this will likely be a running theme, i fucking love this movie.

favourite quote(s).

too many to count from the lord of the rings. sam’s monologue at the end of the two towers, gandalf speaking to pippin in return of the king. also sam saying “i can’t carry it for you, but i can carry you!”. this is really just a love letter to sam now, isn’t it….

top 5 favorite female performances.

i would have to come back to this, i can’t brain right now.

top 5 favorite male performances.

see above.

favourite year for movies.

after googling, it looks like 1993 was a bloody good year.

your favorite movies from [insert year].

2010 is the year you mentioned and from looking on google, my faves are toy story 3, how to train your dragon, black swan, scott pilgrim vs the world, easy a, megamind, tangled, AHH DAYDREAM NATION CAME 2010!! MY FAVE!! man, 2010 was a good one :D

favorite [insert actor/actress/director] movies?

so you said chris evans, brie larson and edgar wright. so faves in order would be:

short term 12

captain america: the winter soldier

hot fuzz or the world’s end (can’t pick between the two soz)

list all you’ve seen from [insert actor/actress/director].

so many, my dude. so many.

an underrated actor.

brain is fried. i’m sure there’s some but i’m blanking hard.

an underrated actress.

see above.

an underrated director.

see above.

an overrated actor.

johnny fucking depp.

an overrated actress.

scarlett johansson soz lol

an overrated director.

QUENTIN FUCKING TARANTINO

a film you wish you had seen on the big screen.

like any of my favourite 80s movies or the original psycho. also the lord of the rings, for some reason my folks didn’t take me to those.

a movie you’ve seen that you think no one else’s here will have heard of?

i am yet to encounter someone who knows the previously mentioned tubby the tuba.

favorite movie characters.

steve rogers, rapunzel from tangled, leia skywalker, lara-jean song-covey

a film that was better than the book.

i love to all the boys i loved before, but the film captured me in a way that the book didn’t as much.

best remake.

i’d watch tom holland or andrew garfield over tobey maguire for spiderman any day fight me.

your first favorite actor.

probably orlando bloom? back when i was a wee bab, i watched anything of his that i could find at the video rental.

your first favorite actress.

hilary duff probably. child me watched all of lizzie mcguire and any movies of hers.

favorite animated film.

if you’ve read this far and can’t figure it out, i don’t know what to say. it’s toy story, obviously.

your most anticipated films.

endgame and basically any other superhero movie coming out, toy story 4, the sequel for to all the boys i’ve loved before, the richard curtis movie called yesterday that is coming out in june (???) i think, STAR WARS.

last movie that disappointed you.

sierra burgess is a loser. fuck, no one else wanted that movie to be good as much as i did.

last movie that surpassed your expectations

nothing will ever match how blown away i was by pacific rim when i saw it. i went with my cousin knowing literally NOTHING about it. also i guess 2017′s it. i’m not big on seeing horror at the cinema and i didn’t expect to find it as funny as i did because the kids in it were so great.

actor in need of new agent.

idk bruh, i can’t think of anything right now for this.

actress in need of new agent.

see above.

share an unpopular film opinion you have.

idk how unpopular this is because i’m pretty sure thanks to #metoo most people want these kind of people want out of hollywood, but i despise woody allen and roman polanski films. the fact that i had to study them while getting my degree is despicable, and the argument that they’ve done a lot for the film industry is trash. don’t make their work important, studying it so thoroughly gives it power and i want to never have to speak about their trash again.

favorite Oscar win/speech.

who couldn’t say olivia colman’s from this years oscars. that warmed my cold dead heart and i cried for her.

biggest Oscar snub(s).

arrival should have won/been nominated for more than it did.

who do you think is overdue for another nomination/win?

amy adams!!! she was so fucking amazing in arrival, i wanted her to win all of the things.

how many movies have you seen (rough estimation)?

must be hundreds (not that these answers are any indication since i’ve talked about approx four films) since i own hundreds of DVDs, i go to the cinema regularly, i am constantly watching stuff on netflix and any other streaming services.

a movie that made you go ‘wtf was that’.

un chien andalou, requiem for a dream and mothlight. the first two because they’re fucking disturbing, the last one because its just close ups of parts of moths and i had to watch it for a film paper. it’s a no from me.

a film that scarred you.

the mummy. the beetle under the skin gave me nightmares and i haven’t been able to watch it since.

most movies watched in a single day.

i havent’t taken notes, but i did watch all of the mcu movies with cap in them recently in a day?

a film that always makes you cry.

coco. i’ve yet to make it through without having a full on mental breakdown for the last third of that movie. also marley and me because doggos. and the last part of mamma mia: here we go again. and philadelphia. the take away from this answer is that i cry a lot in movies.

a film that always makes you laugh.

hot fuzz. in my first flat we watched it nearly everyday for like two weeks when we all moved in and watching it makes me think of how much we all laughed and quoted it to one another.

movies that you think everyone should watch (not necessarily your favorites).

get out, psycho, star wars, at least one classic film noir, arrival, the cornetto trilogy, back to the future. there’s more but i think this is a good starter for what i at least find to be important viewing.

a movie that took you a couple of viewings to appreciate.

honestly probably the lord of the rings. they didn’t really click with me until high school, and then they really really clicked. also fight club i guess; the second time around watching it, i got the toxic masculinity themes more. it sucks that men read that movie as the exact opposite.

a book you want to see adapted to the big screen.

i believe i already answered this here!

a book you really, really, really don’t want to see made into a film.

does jk rowling’s twitter count? i want to see nothing more from the harry potter universe that she has had anything to do with.

favorite child performance.

the kids in the goonies and it 2017 come to mind. let kids act like kids!!!

favorite pre-code.

mate, you are making the assumption that i remember enough of the old films i studied in my degree, and that i remember the pre-code dates. i’m sure i have one, but that is buried far too deep in my brain to actually remember.

Favorite silent film.

i really enjoyed the buster keaton stuff we watched when i did my history of film paper.

favorite coming of age film.

boyhood, love simon, the edge of seventeen, my girl (i’ll be honest, i just googled coming of age movies and picked my faves from the top results. doesn’t mean i don’t stand by these!!)

favorite superhero film.

captain america: the winter soldier, spiderman: into the spiderverse, black panther and the dark knight rises.

best cinematography.

i still really like her and wes anderson for their cinematography.

movies you know you should watch, but can’t bring yourself to do it?

so fucking many, my dude. the amount of movies i wrote essays about when i had watched maybe three scenes and read the synopsis is insane. after getting a degree in it, and with how burned out i got, i found it very hard to give a shit about classics that lecturers told me were important. the big one is the godfather; it’ll be a cold day in hell when i finally watch that one.

favorite genres.

i’m a sucker for anything romantic. also film noir, superheroes, animated, female-led, stuff set in the 80s, lgbt film (that isn’t gross and exploitative), comedy horrors. idk man, it’s hard to describe.

least favorite genres.

dull as fuck period pieces that say approximately nothing new and hash out the same old tired shit about treatment of poc and/or women. comedies in the same vein of austin powers, napoleon dynamite and sasha baron cohen stuff. white feminist narratives. anything that is shitty about fat women.

biggest movie pet peeve.

dark for no fucking reason!!! let films be bright and happy!!! ya girl hates having to strain her eyes to see what the heck is going on.

#answered #anonymous

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theonceoverthinker · 6 years

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OUAT 2X16 - The Miller’s Daughter

I actually don’t have a pun this time, but if you want to read some semi-interesting thoughts on this episode, comedy bits that may or may not be funny, and for me to try to analyze costumes despite having fork all knowledge about them, then come with me and you’ll be in a world of fairytale serialization!

Press Release Cora’s desire to rid herself of Rumplestiltskin in order to take his place as The Dark One takes one step closer to becoming reality as she and Regina try to overpower a dying Mr. Gold, and Mary Margaret is once again tempted by dark magic. Meanwhile, in the fairytale land that was, Rumplestiltskin agrees to offer his services to a younger Cora - for a price - when the king calls her bluff and orders her to actually follow through on her boast of being able to spin straw into gold. General Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness Past Cora’s psyche was FABULOUSLY written in this segment. She’s not completely unsympathetic, but seeing the things that tick her off and her suggestion of “bloodlust” as her fuel for her magic show that she’s a psychopath. She wants to torture people for looking down on her and it’s appropriately petty. Her ambitions are so strong and appealing to her that they eclipse even her sense of love. We get such a complex picture of this woman here and it frames her perfectly for the tragic fate that comes upon her in the present.

Cora, you are an evil woman but I’d be lying through my teeth if I said you didn’t rock that dress! Actually, despite knowing fork all about fashion, I want to continue. Let’s talk about the use of color in this scene. Cora’s wearing a red and black dress, though it’s predominantly red. I feel like this can be read (Or rather, RED XD ) as Cora being a person who wants bloodlust and who is finally deciding to let the blackness in her heart take over in order to get what she wants. Also lets not the silver on he dress as well in the form of the jewel or brooch (Note my lack of fashion know how), a small but noticeable reflection of the values Henry Sr. wants in a wife. And speaking of, Henry Sr. is dressed, not only in white, but white and silver. The white, of course, is his sense of goodness which does win out in the end, but the silver to me stands in for the speckle of darkness that his future endeavors with an evil Cora and an eventually evil Regina will be involved in. Finally, let’s look at the king. His clothes are roughly half black and half white. I read that as him ultimately having good intentions for his son and kingdom but being wicked for all that he puts Cora through, knowing her rank, status, and likely abilities.

While I understand that this borders of shipping stuff, and I usually separate that, I like how while Cora and Henry Sr. have a relationship that’s not at all antagonistic at the very start, they don’t spend enough time together to discover whether or not it’s love, making their dysfunction later on make so much sense. Present I have a lot to say about Snow wanting to kill Cora...just not here, if that makes sense. While I remember it going overboard in upcoming episodes (Prepare for the longest eye roll in the world when Snow goes on about how it was easy to kill Cora), it’s really well executed here. Snow riles herself up to kill Cora and when it finally happens, she realizes how she wasn’t ready for the internal consequences in regards to her heart and sense of goodness (Not to mention her safety from Regina!). Snow’s rage from the last episode’s ending is still so present, and it’s appropriately framed as a risky path she might not want to take, but just might have to.

Snow utterly GETS Regina as she’s giving her the heart. It’s horribly twisted just how much she’s able to pick on Regina’s need for a mother’s love and use that to get Regina to kill Cora. That moment really struck as the one where she realized (And me) that for as tactical as the move was, it may have been too cruel. All Encompassing I love seeing Cora as she started out because it says so much about the presentation she’s built around herself over the course of her rise to power. Cora has a fiery and snippy temper that she can just hardly control, even among the royals who she so desperately wants to be one of. The Cora of the present composes herself so well and it’s such an interesting contrast, especially in the moments when that anger does comes out.

It’s such an interesting contrast as the scene where Emma learns how to use magic cuts to the one where Cora learns to use magic. In the Emma scene, Rumple has her conjuring a mental idea of those she loves and wants to protect and why so that she can help others. Meanwhile, in the Cora scene, the ideas Rumple has Cora conjure have to deal with those she wants to harm and kill so that she can better her own status. It’s a great point of contrast not only for the two characters, BUT also for how light magic and dark magic are uniquely created. Also, given how Rumple is a Dark One who was at one point a Savior (Though I acknowledge that that might not have been created at the time), it’s great to see Rumple at the cornerstone of both lessons, showing a sympathy and understanding for both women.

“I realized no matter how good I was or how hard I worked, I was never gonna be more than I am now.” Cora and SNow are conflicting characters in this episode, and it’s so cool to see that at one point (Obviously longer for Snow by a huge margin), both women held the idea that goodness being the cause of good fortune as true. Insights - Stream of Consciousness -I love the design of Cora’s home in the past. With the placement of her father in the wheelbarrow and the dirty colors all around, it really highlights the squalor that Cora’s lived in all her life. Additionally, the castle in the still quite visible distance is the perfect thing to show her ambition to be more than she is and ascend to royalty. The melancholic music in the background just brings it all home. -Going off of my last review, I love how Eva is characterized in her small moment. The trip is pre-mediated (But in a smart way) and the Season 3 episode where they first meet even gives more of a reason as to why she was so horrible here. -Those bunks are actually roomier than I thought they’d be for a pirate ship. -I like Rumple’s subversion of expectations with Emma as he asks if she wants him to die before they return to Storybrooke. He always expects the worst out of people (As semi-justly as that mentality is) and when they show that that’s he’s wrong (whether he understands that or not) is just so nice! -”I-I’m not wicked.” You are about to kill at least four people! Yes, you are wicked! Or evil, since ‘wicked’ is more of Zelena’s schtick. -Also, Cora’s reaction to the phone call is hysterically petty. She’s like a cat. -Yes, Regina! Doubt her! (fork me with a rusty fork, the dialogue is just AMAZING here!) -*wistfully sighs* The stylized design of this ball is so beautiful. The masks, the dancing, the layout! It’s so distinct! -I have to ask: Does Cora know that that’s Henry Sr. when she originally gossips about him right to his face? On one hand, I’m not sure we’re supposed to interpret that that way, but on the other hand, it’s a very Cora thing to do. -It’s really weird to see someone on this show say ‘whore’ (“Whoring” in context, but still!). -”Cora. Sounds like something breaking.” I can’t say that I agree with you, Rumple. Cora’s a lovely name! We just need someone less evil to have it! -”Can ya read”” I think this is the first time Rumple’s actually checked to see if someone could read! He really should do that more! Like, so many of the people he deals with are defenseless peasants! So what the hell?! -Love that pen, Rumple! THAT is a deal-making pen! -”For a rainy day.” You say that a lot, Rumple. What, did a rainy day eat your dog or something? -”And there’s no coming back from death, either.” Give it a season, Rumple. And then another. And Then Another. And. Then. Another. AND THEN ANOTHER! I don’t hate this plot device, but it really happens a lot! XD -”...When he learns that you killed his grandpa.” Rumple, the other solution is her killing his adoptive grandma/great-grandma. This isn’t as much of a point in your favor as you think it is! XD -I love how they showed Emma using magic here. You really feel the step-by-step process in how it’s done. I wish they’d use that filming style more often in the future, but I guess I get that the creators acknowledge that we get the deal in the later seasons. -”I rip out his throat and I crunch his veins with my teeth.” That is amazingly disturbing imagery! Like, the writing of those lines are so impactful and frankly scary! -”To a child.” So, I don’t know if this was the fault of casting, but Eva and Cora are too close in age for the difference to be all that remarkable. -”I want their kneecaps to crack and freeze upon the stones. I want their necks to break from bending.” Another instance of disturbing as all here writing, but done so eloquently that it’s beautiful. -I like how Regina and Cora are able to pretty easily take down Emma’s protection spell together while Cora takes longer to do it on her own, showing that even though Emma’s the Savior and indeed powerful, she still has a lot to learn. -Also, good on you, Emma for giving Regina a last chance! -”WHEN YOU SEE THE FUTURE, THERE’S IRONY EVERYWHERE!” Finally! I not only now know for life where that forking quote comes from, but after referencing it time after time, it’s so good to hear it again! -Another note on the costume colors: The only time Cora rejects her ambitions are when she’s wearing her opposite color: White. The goodness in her is so overpowering! -I love the distorted version of the classic Once tune that plays as Snow is getting Cora’s heart. -”At least this cursed power will pass from this world.” I’m not sure how I feel about this line when it comes to Rumple, given how just two episodes ago, he was so on team magic, but given that the dagger both threatens his family now and caused the initial separation from Bae, I can understand the sentiment. -I’d like to think that when Cora sent Emma and Neal away, she essentially just did it via subconscious randomizer! XD -”Did you ever love me?” Given everything that happened with Milah, it makes sense that Rumple would ask this going forward with his romantic endeavors. -”I did nothing.” Yes, you did! Rumple, who the here told Snow about the freakin’ candle the second time? I love you, man, but don’t weasel completely out of this! -Something I noticed: So, I know that the point of contention with Regina blaming Snow for Daniel’s death is a hot topic (Hell, I even saw a debate about it this morning), and I can’t help but feel like this was written partially so that Regina would have a more...legitimate reason to hate Snow. Arcs - How are These Storylines Progressing? Rumple Finding Baelfire/Neal - I actually discuss there two in just a moment! Regina’s Redemption - This episode definitely shows Regina’s sense of good and evil being pit against each other and Cora is right in the middle of it. In the shop, she’s directly by Regina’s side and there, she won’t even entertain the idea of Emma’s offer to change sides. But when Cora and Regina are separated, and the idea of Cora’s real love is brought up, that’s when we see her goodness win. Cora in Storybrooke - Here concludes this arc, and I honestly loved it. Like all of the best villains and their arcs, Cora leaves so much on the floor (Apart from her corpse, that is) in terms of emotional issues for our main cast, especially Snow and Regina. The arc itself was also well written and well paced. Not to mention, it mixed very well with Regina’s Redemption by forcing it to be turned back a bit, showing that Regina’s redemption won’t be so easy. Favorite Dynamic Rumple and Neal - These guys have a scene that’s maybe half a forking minute and they steal the god damned episode with it. Rumple finally gets to say what we all know he really wanted to say. And what I especially love here is how Neal hears him out but does not forgive him! Like, Rumple is dying and he doesn’t fully absolve him, and I think that was such a bold and brilliant thing for Espenson to do. It shows that Neal’s pain, even in this moment, still matters, and while there can be softness, that pain hasn’t gone away. It’s such a small, but insightful understanding of their relationship. Writer Jane Espenson hit the writing out of the forking park! At least a few times during the episode had such intricate language. Honestly, it almost freaks me out a bit with the imagery she painted during the ‘bloodlust’ scene with the way she has Rumple and Cora speak about the harm they wish to inflict on those who scorned them! While there are errant lines here and there that I don’t like (I jotted a few down in “Insights”, they’re so few and far between that they hardly matter. The storytelling and character work here is great, too. She took advantage of all of the little nuances from the other episodes and shows just how much attention she was paying here. Rating Golden Apple. This was a great end to Cora’s story. Intersped with two fantastic stories that connect pretty well are great character moments between our main cast. It’s incredibly solid for an episode that serves as such a big moment of culmination, but it is. It’s entertaining, heartwarming, heartbreaking, disturbing at some points, and everything else in between. The feeling of tension as the Mills/Charming-Stiltskin war comes to a head is present through the entire flashback and Cora’s backstory only shows how much of a threat she truly is. Flip My Ship - Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Snowing - I like how David knows Snow well enough to know exactly what killing Cora will do to her psychologically. A subtle moment like that really shows how well these two click. Golden Heart (Cora/Rumple) - I’d be lying if I didn’t say there weren’t sparks that could light the Enchanted Forest up like a menorah between Rumple and Cora. I love the way they bond over bloodlust and their kiss in front of the mirror while Cora’s in her wedding dress is a little hot! Look, I LOVE mopey dopey puppy love ships like Snowing, Rumbelle, or Captain Swan, but I LOVE villain ships! I love when a couple loves evil and each other, the exact order notwithstanding and this episode gives me exactly what I want. In another world, I would totally have had Rumple and Cora be together and have episodes and be recurring villains, but that (partially) doesn’t happen. Still, I’m grateful for what we get here. Also, I love when while Cora places her heart on Rumple’s chest, he says “I will show you EVERYTHING,” meaning his heart and love as well. I’ve also got to point out that Rumple and Cora can do that thing that the True Loves do when their kisses can be indicative of when something is wrong. Finally, Cora’s pentultimate dying words are “this would’ve been enough,” and Rumple and Regina are the only two in the scene, meaning that she would’ve wanted to be with them as a family. Rumbelle - I could honestly just put the entire phone call here and it would cover everything I want to say. It’s such a beautiful goodbye. However, I’m going to reference just a single line that comes in early on. “You are a hero.” Rumple knows how much being a hero means to Belle and that’s the first thing he tells her. It’s her ambition for herself and he places that ahead of her ambitions for him. That’s just heartbreaking. And it’s here that Rumple first says a sentiment that carries him to the series finale: “You make me wanna go back to the best version of me.” And that forking almost silent “Thank you, Belle” legitimately choked me up. ()()()()()()()()() Thank you for reading and to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales!

Wow. After all the pain that Cora caused, Storybrooke’s more or less a new town! I guess we should welcome ourselves there. ;) See you next time. Season 2 Tally (142/220) Writer Tally for Season 2: Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis: (39/60) Jane Espenson (35/50) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (24/50) David Goodman (24/30)* Robert Hull (16/30) Christine Boylan (17/30) Kalinda Vazquez (20/30) Daniel Thomsen (18/20)* * Indicates that their work for the season is complete

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 2x16 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat

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leiyahime · 6 years

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Fanfic - The gamer and the journalist

Yes, I’m productive lately. I had this idea a while back and it wanted to be written.

Hotsuma is a passionate gamer who has moved to the USA as a kid and Shuusei studies journalism and stayed in Japan. And now they can meet after twelve long years on a gaming convention.

The Gamer and the Journalist

Shuusei looked at his cell phone and typed something into a chat window. Perhaps he would get an answer some time in the near future. Preferably before he fell asleep.

-God, this meeting is so boring. Are you online or still at university? - He looked at the phone’s clock: half past nine in the morning, so it was half past four in the afternoon the previous day where his chat partner lived. And thank god the little lamp in the top left corner of his phone announced an answer after a few minutes.

-Just booted my PC. Had to stay longer because of a test tomorrow {>-<}-

Shuusei inwardly shook his head. He could almost see how his chat partner disliked spending more time than necessary at his university than necessary.

-Do you feel prepared?-

-*shrugs* It will be enough to pass. What’s the meeting about?-

Shuusei decided to ignore the other’s lack of interest in his studies. They had discussed it often enough and he didn’t want another discussion right about this topic right now. They had argued about it much too often and he would not provoke another one.

-The upcoming issue of our student’s newspaper. They think about sending someone to the big game convention next weekend and write about it.-

-Cool! Will you go?-

-Me? Hotsuma, you are aware that I only know the difference between a PC and a console because I work with a PC but never on a console. I belong to a game convention as much as a plane to a boat exhibition.-

“Usui!”

“What?” He looked up just as his phone announced the other’s reply as he heard his name.

The young woman who led the university’s newspaper’s redaction, Suzuki Hiromi by name, wore a stern expression. “Stop playing on your phone and pay attention. You will go to the con as well and write an article as someone who doesn’t know much about gaming.”

“What?” Shusei repeated. Had he heard it correctly?

“You brag about being a non gamer. So you will go there on Saturday and write about your experience. Here’s your ticket.” She handed him a piece of paper which was indeed a press-ticket for the con.

Shuusei sighed. “Really?” He had just told Hotsuma why he didn’t mean to attend and now he had a ticket and a job to do. Great. He sighed.

“Do you have important plans on Saturday? Like grandma’s 90th birthday? A wedding? Funeral?”

Shuusei shook his head.

“So it’s settled. You will have a look around and write about it. It would be much more interesting than a gamer’s report about it.”

“I’ll come with you, so you will not get lost in those many people,” another girl said. She was called Wakabayashi and everyone knew she loved games.

Shuusei sighed. So he didn’t have another choice but to go and write an article about an event he didn’t care about. “Okay… I guess I don’t have a choice, have I?”

Now he had to spend the rest of the meeting paying attention. Wakabayashi told him what he should pay attention to like cosplayers or the upcoming finals of an international championship of a famous game. Shuusei only knew the name because Hotsuma played it and was very good at it and also played in international competitions. If he would be there?

When he looked at his phone an hour later, he froze:

-I thought we could meet? I’ll play there!-

That was… big news. They had been childhood friends but Hotsuma had moved to Los Angeles twelve years ago. At least they had the internet to stay in contact for which Shuusei was very thankful. And if he could meet his old friend again it would be worth spending a whole day at a place which didn’t interest him at all and was too full of people. They were still very close with each other and meeting again after so many years would be fantastic.

-I’m going to work there. Do you have time for an interview with a complete noob who is supposed to write about it from his view?”

Then he put his phone back into his pocket. He didn’t expect a quick answer. Hotsuma was too dedicated to his games, so he would not have patiently waited for him to find the time to reply. But he supposed getting an interview with one of the best Warcraft players in the world who above that preferred to avoid publicity would make sure they could meet and he would totally surprise Suzuki. He liked that idea.

~~~

“Ahh Shuusei! I’m so looking forward to see you for real on Saturday!”

Shuusei grinned into his webcam. It was Wednesday and Hotsuma would have to depart for Japan tomorrow. “Have you already packed your things?” he asked. He had just returned from university and Hotsuma had had the whole evening to pack his things. Now it was half past eleven at night over there

“Naah, not yet. But I’ve started.”

Shuusei sighed deeply. “Then finish it. I won’t start watching the next episode unless you have finished packing.”

“Really? I’ve waited sooo long for you to come home!”

“You could have used that time to get everything ready.” Shuusei shook his head.

“I have everything ready. I just need to click on play.” Hotsuma protested. “I have to leave after lunch so I have enough time to pack the rest tomorrow.”

“And I know you well enough that you will oversleep and then forget half your things.” Shuusei said while he opened the streaming service where the newest episode of Game of Thrones was already online so that they could watch it together. Shortly after the start of the first season Hotsuma had come to him and proposed to watch it together since Shuusei had once told him he had read the books. And now it had become a nice ritual between them to spend one evening the week together to watch something. Shuusei liked it. He was no big fan of mainstream TV series but he liked this one and it was something that could get Hotsuma away from his games so that they had a bit more time together. Time which they both seemed to value very much.

He had now found the newest episode but instead to telling Hotsuma he took a book from his desk and opened it.

“Do you have underwear?” he asked without looking up from his book. “Socks? Trousers? T-Shirts? Your gaming outfit? Sleepwear?”

“You sound like my mom!” Hotsuma protested.

“You would have forgotten you sleepwear then.” Shuusei stated and when he looked at his monitor he found Hotsuma packing a bit more into his suitcase.

“Toothbrush?” he asked and Hotsuma got said article together with toothpaste and his hairbrush. “Anything else for your daily hygiene?”

“In here.” Hotsuma grumbled and held a smaller bag up.

“Good. Shoes?”

“Already packed.”

And so it went on until Shuusei was satisfied and Hotsuma really had anything he needed. They were disturbed once by one of Hotsuma’s flatmates who wanted to know if it was okay for him to still take a bath at this hour but Hotsuma just nodded and sent him away. He would stay awake for more than an hour. By then the bathroom would be free again. Shuusei was already used to Hotsuma’s two flatmates coming in once in a while and wanting something from him.

And then they could finally start to watch the next episode so Shuusei put his book away and turned his full attention to his old laptop. They clicked the play button at the same time and both had a small window of their video chat in the top corner of the monitor so that they could still watch each other and comfortably talk about what they saw.

Only once Hotsuma had to interrupt the episode to open another messenger Shuusei didn’t know to tell one of his gaming buddies he didn’t have time to play with them today because of quality time with his oldest friend. And somehow this made Shuusei feel warm. That he really was important enough to Hotsuma that he didn’t rush over to his games because someone wanted to play with him.

~~~

The moment Shuusei saw the queue in front of the halls he wanted to turn around and go home again. But of course Wakabayashi didn’t let him and he had to remind himself that he would meet Hotsuma after the tournament.

Despite their press tickets it took them almost an hour to get into the large halls. Almost every gaming company had an own stand where people could play the demo of an upcoming game. Besides that there was a cosplay area and of course the area where the tournaments would be held.

Shuusei first wanted to take a look at the cosplayers. He took notes and asked some a few questions about their hobby. They didn’t have an allowance to take pictures here though so when Shuusei’s curiosity – if you could call it like this – was satisfied they left for the main part of the event and took a look at different game developers. Everywhere were many people who wanted to have a look at the new games and try them out. At one company Wakabayashi said she desperately wanted to try a game so he was supposed to look around by himself for a while.

“Okay. But remember I have an interview when the Warcraft tournament ends.” He reminded the girl.

“Oh right. But I want to watch it as well so we can meet there. You still haven’t told me with whom.”

Shuusei winked at her and kept quiet about it. “I think you have heard his name,” was all he said.

Then he went off. He didn’t want to wait with her until it was her turn to play the game. So he strolled through the halls and looked at what the smaller companies had to offer. At a barely crowded stand he even tried a game which looked quite interesting. It was a kind of Adventure puzzle game. He didn’t despise it but since he didn’t want to invest into a console and his laptop was quite old he doubted he would ever be able to purchase the game. He talked to the people at the stand and asked them questions and they quickly noticed he barely knew anything. But they were friendly and explained him everything to detail. When he looked on his watch afterwards he noticed time has rushed by and he left to look for the tournament place. And on the way he noticed a well-known figure: Asian features, blond hair, upright posture, clad in a black Warcraft shirt, black jeans, sunglasses and – his trademark, Shuusei never understood the purpose of that – a long, black, floating coat with an applied flame and the Japanese character for flame which identified him as the famous gamer “Firegod”. A smile crept onto Shuusei’s face and he cleft a way through the crowd to that person.

“Hey.” He said when he fell in step next to that person, knowing he wouldn’t like him to call him by his real name here.

“Shuusei!” The young man looked at him at first surprised then overjoyed and hugged him. “God, it’s so good to see you again!”

Shuusei was a bit overwhelmed but then he returned the hug. It had been so long that they had met in person.

“How are you? Nervous?” Shuusei asked.

“A bit. But I’ll rock it.”

Shuusei laughed. “Of course you will. You’re on your way there?”

“Yup. Care to join me?”

Shuusei nodded and they continued their way.

“And how are you?” Hotsuma asked.

“Overwhelmed. Too loud, too many impressions and way too many people. I guess I’ll leave as soon as I have the interview done with you and cut the world off as soon as I’m home.”

Hotsuma nodded. He knew Shuusei well enough and these events were nothing for his friend. “As long as you don’t forget the interview.”

“Never.” Shuusei chuckled. “That’s the only thing I’m looking forward to today.”

Hotsuma laughed. “I’m curious what kinds of questions you have prepared.”

“Don’t expect too much. You know how much of a noob I am.”

“But at least you know the meaning of the word ‘noob’.”

“Thanks to you.”

Hotsuma grinned. But then they reached the tournament area. “So. I have to leave you here… Or wait… I think I can provide you a seat.”

Shuusei hesitated shortly. “I wanted to meet with Wakabayashi-san here… I guess you can’t wait.”

Hotsuma shook his head. “But… look down there… the first row which is empty? These are the seats I mean. I’ll reserve you two seats there.”

“Usui!”

Shuusei turned around and Shuusei smiled. “I guess you can take us down by yourself. This is Wakabayashi-san. She’s also in the newspaper club with me.”

Hotsuma nodded at the young woman who seemed shocked. “Y-yo-yo-you’re Firegod!” she stuttered.

“He’s an old friend of mine and the one we’re going to interview after the tournament.” Shuusei introduced his friend without mentioning his real name.

“What? Your… friend?”

“We played together in the mud as kids.” Hotsuma explained and bumped Shuusei’s shoulder in a playful way.

“Come now, I don’t have much time left or the tournament will be delayed or I’m disqualified for not showing up and I could need a bit of price money if I don’t wanna starve.” Hotsuma said and with a flattering coat he led the two down to the first row seats and after shortly talking to one of the officials Shuusei and Wakabayashi could sit down at two seats at the side of the row.

“You… I can’t believe you know HIM! I am a big fan!” Wakabayashi whispered excitedly. “Why didn’t you ever tell anyone you know him? You know he’s famous!”

“Yes, but for me he is my closest childhood friend and that’s what I’m seeing in him. I don’t care about games so yes, I know what he’s doing and everything I know about video games is the stuff he has told me, but that’s not important to me. I don’t care much about ‘Firegod’ but about the person behind this name. And we haven’t met in more than a decade,” Shuusei explained and shrugged. Really he didn’t have to tell everyone, that one of his closest friends happened to be a bit famous.

“Wow… So that’s how you got the interview in the first place. He’s not known to giving many.”

Shuusei nodded. He knew Hotsuma was very active at gaming but there wasn’t much known about him.

They had to wait a while and then the tournament started. When Shuusei watched the people it seemed to be an exciting game. He didn’t understand enough of games like this to understand the thrill of it. But he watched it until the end no matter how bored he felt. Sometimes he noticed his eyes wandering off to Hotsuma. His friend was a bit more interesting to watch. He was so focused on his game. He barely knew him being able to sit down quietly. Whenever they had skyped Hotsuma always needed something to occupy his hands with. But now he was sitting totally still while he played his game and was 100% focused, and by watching him he knew why Hotsuma was so invested in his hobby.

The tournament dragged out. It was quite late when it ended and Shuusei was glad when he could get up again and walk a few steps. Hotsuma had made it to the second place which also would provide him a nice price money so he wouldn’t have to starve in the near future.

“You didn’t fall asleep.” Wakabayashi teased him. She was very excited.

“But I was close.” Shuusei yawned and they went to the place Hotsuma had left them and where they wanted to meet him again. They had to wait another ten minutes until he showed up.

“So I’m done. Let’s grab something to eat and then I’m ready to answer your questions.” He said when they had both congratulated him.

And so it happened. Hotsuma had bought a very big portion of fries and some other fast food things with which he led the two to a more quiet room which had been used for a workshop in the morning and was now empty.

“Feel free to take some fries.” Hotsuma offered and shoved two bottles of water over to them.

“Thank you!” Wakabayashi said and took her bottle.

Shuusei was not interested in eating much but he as well was thirsty.

Hotsuma took off his sunglasses and relaxed after he had shoved a burger into his mouth in record time.

“So, I guess I’m ready now for your questions.” He grinned.

“There’s a sesame seed between your teeth.” Shuusei winked and watched while Hotsuma tried to get it away. Then he started the voice recorder of his phone and started the interview. He tried to keep a bit of distance so that it was kept professional but a few childhood memories slipped in nevertheless. And Wakabayashi also had a few questions she wanted to ask her idol.

Shuusei couldn’t deny that this was really the best part of today. No matter how advanced today’s communication devices got, nothing could replace meeting face to face and at one point Wakabayashi was completely out of the window for them. She just didn’t have a place in the conversation of two old friends.

It took about two hours until a man looked inside the room. “The con is closing soon. And you’re supposed to have dinner with the other gamers, Firegod.”

Hotsuma nodded. So the interview had to end. Shuusei had a final question but then they had to leave.

“How long are you still in Japan?” Shuusei asked when the three of them got up.

“Until Wednesday. Are you free on Tuesday?”

Shuusei smiled. So Hotsuma had understood why he had asked and he nodded. “I am always free for you. We can meet at the usual place at 11 o’clock?” he asked and Hotsuma grinned.

“I’d love to.”

He stretched out his hand to Wakabayashi and then he hugged Shuusei again who this time had expected it and returned it instantly. And when they distanced each other again he could feel Hotsumas lips brushing against his very softly. Shuusei smiled at him when he let go of him.

“See you on Tuesday.” He said and left the room after Hotsuma.

“Has… have I seen it wrongly or has he really kissed you?” Wakabayashi asked in shock on their way out.

Shuusei looked at her and shrugged with a small sheepish smile on his lips. “Perhaps?” He had enjoyed that fleeting kiss very much but he didn’t expect anything to drastically change between him and Hotsuma. He lived in Tokyo after all and his friend in Los Angeles. Something serious between them would be difficult to manage no matter how much he might like Hotsuma.

~~~

On Tuesday Shuusei had to attend to the usual meeting of the student’s newspaper and delivered his article to Suzuki who looked over it.

“How did you manage to get this interview? I hope you didn’t spend any money on it. I can’t give it back!” she asked.

“He’s a good friend of mine.” Shuusei shrugged. “And he was happy to grant it to me so there was no money involved.”

“Wow. I knew it would be good to send you there. This issue will sell great!” Suzuki grinned.

But after the meeting ended Shuusei left. He had a course but he had decided to skip it. He wanted to have as much time as possible with Hotsuma.

When he reached their old meeting point, a tree in a near park, he found Hotsuma already standing there. Shuusei had never moved too far away from their old neighbourhood. He smiled and went over to him. “Hey.” He greeted him.

“Shuusei!” Hotsuma was obviously very happy to see him and greeted him again with a warm hug. “How was your meeting?”

“Quite okay. Suzuki-san was surprised about the interview.” Shuusei smiled.

“You didn’t tell her?”

Shuusei shook his head. “No. I wanted to surprise her that even I can get an interview with someone from the gaming scene.”

Hotsuma laughed. “I’d have loved to see her face.”

“It was quite a sight.” Shuusei smiled.

“I can imaging. Nee Shuusei?”

“Hn?”

“Does the crêpe stand still exist where we used to go as kids? I’d love to have a good old Japanese crêpe with mango and chocolate! I sometimes really miss the good Japanese sweets!”

Shuusei chuckled.

“No our old stand doesn’t exist anymore but I know another one which makes delicious crêpes. Let’s go there.”

“Okay.” Hotsuma agreed and took Shuusei’s elbow.

A bit surprised about Hotsumas proximity Shuusei looked at him.

“Sorry.” Hotsuma let go of his arm again. “It’s just… I’m so happy to spend some time with you again. Y’know… I have friends over there and all but… you are still my best friend and I… I’m so glad to be able to see you in person again.”

Shuusei smiled and now it was him who took Hotsuma’s arm. Should the people think what they wanted. “I’m also happy to see you again” he agreed. Shortly he thought back to Saturday and the short kiss, but he didn’t want to think too much of it. He just wanted to be close to his friend.

When they arrived at the crêpe stand he had to let go of Hotsuma’s arm again. They both got a different crêpe. While Hotsuma indeed got his mango-chocolate filled one, Shuusei ordered one with strawberries and cherries.

“Is there anything else you want to do? Need a new game? Want to see anything?” Shuusei asked after he stole a bite from Hotsuma’s crêpe.

“No. I have everything. And we had a big sightseeing tour yesterday.” Hotsuma said and accepted Shuusei’s offer of trying from his crêpe as well.

“Then let’s go home and watch the new episode?” Shuusei proposed. He didn’t have another idea what he could do with Hotsuma.

“That sounds like a great plan!” Hotsuma grinned. “Do you have any snacks?”

Shuusei didn’t so they stopped at a supermarket to buy a few things before they returned to the dorms where Shuusei lived.

“How are your parents by the way?” Hotsuma asked when they entered the buildng.

“As always, very stuck up. But when we last phoned they were fine. And yours? Have you heard of them lately?”

Hotsuma shook his head. “Nothing. But I guess that means they’re fine. They just drop a note when they want money. I stopped caring.”

Shuusei sighed and put a hand on Hotsuma’s shoulder. His relationship with his parents had always been difficult and since he started earning money with playing video games they had stopped caring about him. “I’m here for you, you know?” he said.

“I know. And I am here for you.” Shuusei smiled and pulled his hand back to get his keys out of his pocket to let them into his small apartment.

“Cozy.” Hotsuma stated when he looked at the room for the first time. He usually didn’t see too much of it through the webcam. It was one room with tatami mats at the floor so they of course pulled their shoes off. At one wall was a small kitchen and at the window was a desk with Shuusei’s laptop and some books for his studies. On the windowsill stood a few plants. One wall was empty but Hotsuma supposed behind it was the wardrobe. A small door indicated that the apartment even had an own bathroom. It wasn’t big at all but tidy.

“I guess an apartment for one person alone is not very cheap.” He mused and Shuusei nodded.

“Yup. But I can get by.” Shuusei smiled and started to boil some water. “Tea?” he asked.

Hotsuma nodded and took a look at Shuusei’s laptop. “Wow how old is it? And how does it still work?” he asked.

Shuusei chuckled. “It’s good enough for me. Don’t forget I don’t play games so I don’t need a high end PC. As long as it can still run a video stream and a video chat with you at the same time I don’t need a new one.”

Hotsuma chuckled. “I guess I would curse this thing if I had to work with it for only one day.”

“You don’t have to. I have to deal with it.” Shuusei smiled and looked at his friend mockingly.

“I know. Just wanted to say… As long as you are happy with it.”

“I am.” Shuusei boxed Hotsuma into the stomach which led to them playfully fighting each other like they used to do often when they were still kids. Only the water kettle separated them and grinning Shuusei gave up in favour of preparing their tea.

“You can already plug the laptop in and put it there into the corner.” He said and motioned to the corner next to the writing desk.

While Hotsuma did as he was told Shuusei went to the wardrobe and pulled his futon out to spread it behind his friend so that they could watch their episode comfortably.

“Ah this is the view I usually have when we watch GoT.” Hotsuma said when he turned around.

“Exactly,” Shuusei said and threw their snacks over to his friend. “Shall we order some real food later?” he asked. “I don’t want to spend much time cooking.”

“Aw But I wanted to eat something made by you…” Hotsuma pouted. And Shuusei could hear Hotsuma typing something on the keyboard and looked over sceptically. He had locked his laptop with a password but…

“Oh god, you really use THIS as your password?” Hotsuma asked when he managed to unlock the computer at the third try. “You’re too obvious, Shuusei!”

“Why? You’re the only one who knows that this place is important to me.” Shuusei replied. His password was the place he and Hotsuma had spent much time as kids. “And my passwords in the internet are much more secure.”

“I hope so. Or I have to give you a lesson in password security.”

“I know the basic rules for creating good passwords thank you.” Shuusei replied. “So back to the food topic: I have prepared a dessert for you. Can you live with this?” Shuusei said and when two cups of tea were done Shuusei put them and the teapot on a tablet and carried it over to the futon.

“Well... then I guess I can.” Hotsuma sighed. “We can order something to eat later. But first I wanna watch this episode!!” he sounded almost like an impatient child. Shuusei snipped his fingers against Hotsuma’s forehead and sat down next to him so they could find a comfortable position to watch the episode.

In the end they lay next to each other on their stomachs and looked at the monitor of the laptop. The futon was not very broad so their shoulders touched. Shuusei enjoyed being so close to his friend even more when Hotsuma took his hand. He shortly looked at him but soon turned his attention back to the monitor and squeezed the hand he was holding. It was really sad that Hotsuma had to return to America tomorrow. It was so nice to have him back here in person.

They watched the episode and shared their impressions just as they always did and slowly their snacks vanished into their stomachs. Okay Hotsuma ate more than Shuusei but that was okay. Shuusei was no big fan of sweets after all.

When the episode ended Hotsuma let go of Shuusei’s hand and stretched. Lying so long on the stomach was not the most comfortable position. “Ahh that was interesting. I wanna know what happens next!!” he said.

“You want me to tell you?” Shuusei asked grinning and turned around to stretch as well. He needed to change the position, but he didn’t want to get up and give this closeness up.

“Nope. Keep it for yourself. In the end they change it as they so often do and then we’re both disappointed.”

Shuusei chuckled and turned to his side. “As you wish but the way of storytelling doesn’t indicate they change that detail.” He shrugged and looked over to Hotsuma and notciced he was watched.

“Am I this interesting?” he asked amusedly.

“Yup.” Hotsuma said and smiled.

In the end none of them knew who had started the kiss. One was probably as guilty as the other. Shuusei had closed his eyes and slowly tested how it felt to have Hotsuma’s lips moving against his while he returned the kiss. And he couldn’t deny he liked it.

“Wow!” he stated when they separated after a while.

He noticed how Hotsuma brushed his fingers through his hair. “Damn. I didn’t intent to go this far…” he said. “I didn’t even want that on Saturday

Shuusei smiled and took Hotsuma’s hand. “It didn’t even surprise me… on Saturday I mean. And I liked it.”

Hotsuma struggled for words. “But… what now? I have to leave tomorrow. Shuusei… I didn’t want you to know what I feel for you…”

“But now I do.” Shuusei replied. “I don’t like he thought of ignoring what happened and go on like before.” That had been possible until ten minutes ago. But now… Hotsuma had just admitted that he had feelings for him and if Shuusei was honest he didn’t mind it at all.

“But… I don’t know when we can meet again…” Hotsuma looked at Shuusei and seemed a bit despaired.

“We will find a way.” Shuusei said and squeezed Hotsuma’s hand which he still held. “I will think of something. Perhaps an exchange year would be good if I really want to make use of my journalist’s degree…”

“Are… you sure? Shuusei… I don’t want to urge you into something you don’t want to! I can deal with my feelings!”

Shuusei sighed and moved over so he could put an arm around Hotsuma – for which he had to let go of his hand. “Hotsuma… If I didn’t want to be with you in this way, I’d make that clear. I know our friendship is strong enough to survive. But I want to be at your side.”

Hotsuma stayed quiet for a few seconds before he put his arms around Shuusei and pulled him close to him. “I love you,” He said quietly. “I don’t know how long.”

Shuusei smiled and moved his hand over Hotsuma’s back. They would find a way to spend more time together. He didn’t know exactly how, but there would be a way. “I love you, too,” he admitted and closed his eyes to feel more of Hotsuma’s warmth.

#uraboku #My writing #hotsuma x shuusei #Gamer Hotsu

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kylewritesaboutthings · 4 years

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Riot Fest 2016 - Day 1

It is 12:30pm and it feels like a jellyfish is hugging my balls. “Does it look I’m hiding anything in my crotch?” I ask my girlfriend Rachel. My hangover tells me that I’m being more paranoid than I should be…this isn’t my first rodeo. As a Polish punk there are few things I love more than combining my passion for subverting authority with my love of saving money. Which brings us to this point: waddling through the security line at Douglas Park for the first day of Riot Fest Chicago with a half a liter of Jameson saddled between my thighs. We’ll go ahead and skip past the other illicit substances safely concealed between my size 11 boot and right foot. Like my literary icon Hunter S. Thompson, I feel it is best to experience a story when seeing it from an array of angles, even if those angles are all within your own head.

Like every time before this, my shitty acts of smuggling go off without a hitch and we are now inside the park with the (surprisingly) rarest of Riot Fest beverages: the elusive brown liquor. Unfortunately the time spent waiting for the rest of our party to shuffle through the GA entry line has caused us to miss ska heavy favorites, Big D and the Kids Table, but we take solace in the fact that like checkered vans and skanking, they will be around until the end of time. With a shrug of ‘oh well, next time’ we cut our losses and head to the nearest beer tent to get the day started off right. As we’re nursing the poor decisions of the previous evening (hence the reason why we didn’t have a full fifth of Jameson), I take the time to appreciate the fine work of the folks at All Rise Brewery who once again came to the park to vend their quality, local, higher alcohol percentage beers before we settle into a weekend of $8 Tacate tallboys. Driven by the fresh breath of alcohol into my system and an inability to read a schedule like a normal human being, we split up and I head for the Rise stage because I am not missing a god damn minute of the manmade hurricane that is the Dillinger Escape Plan. As soon as I arrive at the stage I realize two things: this is where all the #summergoths are hanging out trying not to get any color to their skin and that Dillinger Escape plan isn’t going on for another hour. Oops. I take the inaugural sip of my whiskey pouch and head back to the heard, congratulating myself on my skills of shitty espionage and the money I will save because I’ll have Jameson with me alllllll day. What is the old saying about counting chickens?

I find my friends watching Diarrhea Planet kicking off the Rock Stage, a large pop up stage that only a band with four guitarists can make look like the midsized club in whatever the hell town you’re from. Think the Subterranean in Chicago. Think the Triple Rock in Minneapolis. Think the White Rabbit in San Antonio. But that’s the price that DP pay to layer 4 guitars over one another, and they do it well. Ripping through song after song in their short 30 minute set, singer Jordan Smith takes a very brief moment to apologize “for being so terse”. This will become a theme over the weekend, as everyone but the headlining acts receive a smaller set than usual. Such is with festivals. But unlike most festivals, the bands at Riot Fest put the pedal to the metal and wasted no time with banter and pleasantries. Except for The Hives, but more on that in the next installment.

After a little while we start to wander over to the Story Heart stage, tucked in the back corner of the grounds behind the Ferris wheel. This is where all those bands in small type that come at the end of a lineup announcement “who you haven’t heard but have totally heard of them” spend the weekend. This time it is the bad ass girls of Bad Cop/Bad Cop who, by the looks of the crowd upon arrival, have had a lot of people take the plunge to actually listen to them. It’s a great thing to see, as they are lovely people who make ripping, catchy, harmonized pop punk. Their energy is contagious and the tides turned pretty quickly from ‘recovering from last night’ to ‘in it to win it’. While they rolled through favorites like ‘Nightmare’, ‘Rodeo’, and ‘Anti Love Song’, we rolled through whiskey and beer and high fives.

Luckily the Rise stage, where Dillinger Escape Plan were set to melt faces in an ever setting changing of time signatures that would make a symphonic composer shit themselves, was a hop, skip, and a jump away. More beer, more whiskey, some air guitaring, and some 7/5 timed headbanging ensued. Have you ever wanted to give yourself whiplash? Try headbanging on time with DEP. Ben Weinman is an absolute madman and musically/theatrically they are one of the most interesting bands in metal. A little bummed that we missed the usual destruction that comes with a Dillinger set (it is RIOT fest after all), we meandered back towards the Rock stage to see GWAR do their murderous space alien thing. With a fresh set of politicians to eviscerate, we knew we’d be in for a treat. I can’t tell you what they played, but I can tell you that when you start a set with a decapitation of a president that soaks the first 30 feet of the audience in fake blood…you’ll be in for a good time. Hillary and Trump boxed, with the former ripping the intestines out of the later.

We now reached the point in any good afternoon of day drinking where you realize that if you don’t eat, you will be in serious trouble. Luckily some holy deity created tacos and soon I had crammed three of them into my facehole while I caught at least one side eyed look of horror from the carne asada vacuum that I had become. Whatever. If you wanted to see someone eat gracefully, you should have come to a festival of thousands of drunk punk kids. Take that, whoever you were. It was not the time for napkins, it was the time for drunken nostalgia. Set Your Goals, the only acceptable twin vocalist band, was back and they were playing just a beer stand away from where we were currently located. It was about this time that my ‘stockpile’ of whiskey had completely run out and we were running on full cylinders…each cylinder being a 16oz can of Mexican PBR.

Luckily I had been tipped off ahead of time that they would not be doing the ‘Mutiny’ album in full, so I was able to enjoy their career spanning setlist for what it was. They did hit a number of jams from that album, making me even more excited for their fall run in which they would go cover to cover on what is one of my favorite pop punk albums of all time. A great band for group vocals (see: two vocalists), the whole front of the crowd was a giant sing-a-long of big ole dorks like myself who were excited for the Bay Area favorites to be back in action.

The next few hours were pretty hazy, but this is what I remember of them: • Never get a gyro at a festival, it does not come off a spit and no matter how drunk you are you will be disappointed. • Jimmy Eat World still puts on a great live show and everyone ever still remembers all the words to ‘Sweetness’. • Refused is fucking dead and they should have stayed dead. • I still don’t get Ween. • The Flaming Lips play the same god damn setlist every time they play Riot Fest. Or at least that’s what it sounds like. Just play that song about the robot, already.

After giving up on seeing music for the day, I decided that the press tent was the place to be and snuck Rachel in with me, brushing past the security guard vigilantly checking wristbands with a mutter of ‘it’s cool, I’m with For the Love of Punk and she’s helping me interview Andrew WK’ or something of the nature. HST would be proud. After a short potty break, I then learned the three greatest words I would hear all weekend. Press. Happy. Hour. Less than 10 minutes into entering the press area we were posted up at a table with 5 beers each, or roughly $80 of #preferedsponsor tallboys. Somewhere, HST and my extremely Polish grandma were smiling down on us…proud in their own way.

Taking those to go, we found the rest of our group and spent some time chatting with our good friends Max and Emily, who help make Riot Fest happen. I will take this time to apologize to Max if I drunkenly said something shitty about the lack of portapotties instead of congratulating them on their excellent layout, somehow reuniting the Misfits, and graciously helping our winter fundraiser for the Bernie Sanders campaign by providing two 3 day passes to raffle off. Sorry Max! More to come on the very large number of things Riot Fest did right this year.

By the time we finished chatting them up, we missed our mark of leaving before the bands finished up, hearing Fat Mike yell something inaudible to a crowd already starting to head for the gates behind us. Like a boozy salmon in a stream of cheap beers, we flowed out of the park and into the evening…everyone fairly confused but optimistic that we were all going to get rides to wherever we were going. Luckily the fine folks at Five Star Bar had that taken care of, as we hopped about the shuttle service they ran all weekend from the grounds to their Pop Punk DJ night hosted by super-secret special guest DJs, who were not so secret after Set Your Goals announced mid-set that they would be there spinning tunes later that evening.

As always, an absolute blast was had at Five Star Bar as everyone mingled, met out of towners, and subsequently talked them into shots of everyone’s favorite dumpster liquor…Malort. The gentlemen of Set Your Goals were very nice to oblige my request of ‘Detroit’ by Fireworks, to which I sang embarrassingly loud level. They also had the rap airhorn cued up next to Spotify and every so often (or all the fucking time) we caught a blast of BWOW BWOW BWOW that truly was the cherry on top of the evening. A 3am drunk uber later, we were in bed eating Kumas mac and cheese. And if that isn’t a great way to end an evening, I don’t know what is.

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