#big hair and also zen forms under the cut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bokutoslittlebird · 4 years

Text

The Perfect Family

Alpha!Bokuto x Beta!reader x Beta!Akaashi

Author’s Note : If you’ve read the little drabbles and asks with the fluffy BokuAka family, then you’re in for a surprise. Those were not canon to the actual works I created, it was just something nice to write and think about. This will not start off fluffy at all. This will also include the pregnancy process, so be warned of that ; This is a sequel to my Kinktober piece, Threesome with Bokuto and Akaashi ; I’m so sorry it took for fucking ever

Warnings: Omegaverse, noncon/dubcon (explicit use of the word r*pe), gun play, choking, water torture (attempted drowning), gaslighting, manipulation, watersports (briefly, kind of), mindbreak, dumbification, pregnancy, creampie(s), asphyxiation, lactation, knotting, breeding (technically), degradation

Kōtarō’s rut had finally ended, pumping you full and fucking you into a stupor, all while Keiji made sure to have him give you a break. It was the week for you and Kōtarō to catch up, after all. You were bonded to Kōtarō and Keiji now, you were their mate, so you had to be taken care of. With the stinging pain on your shoulder from Kōtarō’s mark, you were only missing the legal document to bind you to Keiji the normal, Beta way. Keiji was currently thinking about which ring to get you, since Kōtarō had already decided on his “proposal” gift. Keiji figured you’d need time to adjust, however, as he was laying on the couch with Kōtarō’s arms wrapped around him, you missing. There was a cute show that they were watching, Keiji was sure you’d like it. You weren’t allowed out of the bedroom yet, so he would have to show it to you another time.

Once Kōtarō had been satisfied and Keiji had recovered, both got to work on making your stay permanent. You attempted to leave, but Keiji was quick to cuff you. Kōtarō held you down, forcing you to struggle until there was nothing left to do except lay there. Kōtarō had to go back to Osaka soon, so he was trying to enjoy his last few days in Tokyo.

“That was a fun show. Cute, too,” his yawning interrupted his sentence, cutting it short. Keiji nodded in response, snuggling closer to Kōtarō. The Alpha was warm and comfortable, it gave him a sense of home. “I gotta go back tomorrow, Akaashi,”

“I know, Bokuto-san,” Keiji sighs, knowing he’d have to work on their new pet by themselves. It was going to be a struggle. At the beginning of the week, you were so pliant and easily coerced into things. Now, you wouldn’t look or talk to them. Kōtarō threw a fit yesterday, screaming and crying because you weren’t the same person, you were much more distant. It’s the same when it comes to Keiji, however. You only looked at him with betrayal and sadness, even then only looking at him briefly. You exhausted yourself, but you were fighting them. Distancing yourself and giving them the silent treatment. It made Kōtarō not want to leave, you being so upset at him, but he didn’t have a choice.

Kōtarō needed to find a new place for everyone to live, of course. With the high probability of you becoming pregnant, you couldn’t be living in Tokyo, hours away from your alpha. Knowing you would be carrying his pups without him around had Kōtarō growling, Keiji gently patting his arm. Kōtarō calmed down at that, indulging in the calming scent of Keiji. Keiji has already been bonded to him, so it wouldn’t be as stressful if he wasn’t bonded — you were both his mates and therefore, you could be trusted in Keiji’s care. It was still hard to go. He didn’t want to leave with the state you were in.

“What place were you thinking about?” Keiji mused, running his finger in a pattern on Kōtarō’s arm. Just something to do as he mentally planned for the upcoming weeks. The type of house would determine how long those weeks would be.

“Some place big, but close by the gym and practice gym. Maybe traditional? I’ve always wanted to live in a traditional, zen kind of house,” Kōtarō’s eyes lit up as he talked, images and scenes of a large house full of his lovers and his children, playing volleyball in the yard. Keiji smiles at that, knowing it would be at least a month. Enough time to have you positively pregnant and to get you settled into your new role. It’d take effort, of course it would, but he could do it.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Bokuto-san,”

“Ya know, we really gotta get used to calling each other by our given names. You’re gonna be a Bokuto, aren’t’cha?”

“Well, of course I am. Just like [Y/N]. We’ll be the Bokuto family,” he sighs, closing his eyes as the name settles in his mind. The Bokuto family has a nice ring to it, he thinks.

Kōtarō spends his last night cuddling you to sleep. You want no part of it, lying stiff as a board as he presses kisses to your neck and rubs his hand over your stomach. It’s a sickening thought, the possibility of getting pregnant. If you really had been ovulating during the rut, you most likely were pregnant. It’s not like you’d know or not, you barely leave the bed to urinate. It’s disgusting to have to deal with, but even when you do get the bathe and do your business, Keiji is right next to you, ready to intervene if necessary. Although Kōtarō is often in there with you, lathering up your body as his touches become less innocent, Keiji’s stone-cold gaze forces you to not attempt anything silly.

When the morning comes, Kōtarō is desperate to keep something of yours until he can see you again. In order to keep him happy, you acquiesce to his demands and let him take your used clothes, yet to be washed. As if the lingering scent of the morning sex isn’t still clinging to his skin. You can’t smell it, nor Keiji, but you know it’s there as you watch him dress himself, tucking himself away as he rambles on about his plans for the future. Three kids for him, two for Keiji, a nice big house, just the ideal lifestyle for anyone. It’ll never happen, though. His delusions will soon shatter when you stay distant and refuse to love him or Keiji.

Keiji waves goodbye to you, saying he’ll come back when he’s done with work. He plans on taking Kōtarō to the train station and then going to work, so you’ll be stuck for the next few hours. Until dinner time, that is. After an hour, you hear a ping from your phone and reach over to look at it. You can still use your phone, of course, but any possibility of calling for help is useless. In this society, nobody would help you. Not only that, your phone is bugged and linked to Keiji’s. He knows when you unlock your phone, what you do at what time, and how long you’re on it. You’re almost positive he can shut it off if he wants to.

The noise is a message from Kōtarō, telling you he misses you already. A roll of the eyes as you lock it, setting it beside you again. You’re able to barely reach the table beside the bed, but none of the drawers. One hand is secured to the headboard, wooden and strong enough to withstand Kōtarō’s ruthless rut. You feel restless as the day has only begun, the next time you will be able to move out of the bed, if at all, will be when Keiji comes home.

The doorknob to the apartment jiggles, making you jump. Keiji should’ve gone to work, so the sudden noise was unexpected. When it finally turns, you expect to see the familiar hair of your former friend, the tousled raven hair and the broad build. Although the man has the proper stature, the hoodie covering his head and the cheap-looking mask covering his face prevent you from properly identifying him. You can’t tell if he’s smirking or not, the intense feeling that he’s giving off tells you he is. With your hand secured to the bed, you really don’t have much in the way of options. The phone is still an option, but you doubt you could get to it in time.

The man lunges towards you, spurring you to attempt to grab the phone. Your fingers brush the metal device before your arm is forcefully gripped and twisted. You scream as your body twists, attempting to lessen the pain. It’s useless, but you still try. When your mouth opens, he quickly shoves something round and hard in it, your tongue pressed against the barrel of the gun.

“Don’t move a muscle,” his voice was low and hoarse, as if he was adjusting it to hide his identity. It was still unfamiliar to you, your brain unable to register what was going on. The man easily overpowers you, using his weight to keep you pinned to the bed. Fear prickles your skin, the chill setting in deep into your bones despite the lingering warmth of the fading Summer heat. It’s a horrible feeling, frozen in fear as your mind races, unable to do anything except stay still. It’s horrible, the fact you listen to the stranger’s demands despite wishing you were dead and out of Kōtarō and Keiji’s grasps. The gun is removed from your mouth, but the knowledge of it being in his possession is enough to keep you compliant, barely acknowledging the man’s hands moving to slip under the dress you were kindly given.

To keep yourself ready and easily accessible to both Keiji and Kōtarō until they had to part, it was best to slip you into a plain and simple white sundress. It was a present from Kōtarō, a small way of saying you were his now. With the lack of panties or other undergarment, you were essentially naked to the intruder as he sat on his heels, dark eyes scanning over your form. You were shaking from the fear, the unknown, but you weren’t attempting to move or thrash about. It was so easy to take advantage of you, you already nice and wet for him, too. The slick buildup from the morning session with Kōtarō lingers, as well as the creamy substance of his seed fucked into you. Unless the intruder was an Alpha, he couldn’t do much damage, but the thought of leaving you alone without a touch, a taste, was too unbearable.

It didn’t take long for the feeling of something hard and thick to push against your folds, collecting slick and teasing, your sensitivity making you whimper at the touch. It was a sudden plunge, forcing himself deep into your cunt as he groaned, your walls clenching around him. You thought the groan sounded familiar, but there was no more time to think on it when he put his hand on your throat, effectively shutting off proper access to your lungs. Your walls tighten again around him, him finding it hard to retract his hips but thrusting back in. His pace isn’t too fast, but his thrusts are brutal as he continues to drive his cock into your sensitive and abused pussy. He’s not an Alpha, you can tell by the lack of an inflating knot, but it still remains that you’re being violated by an unknown man. The whimpers coming from your throat are all you can release, barely sucking in air to stay conscious. When your vision starts to fade, the man and the walls of the room slowly blurring together, you start to panic.

The gun is still beside you, but it’s not your concern. The bullet in the chamber can’t threaten you unless the barrel’s against your head, but the hand currently cutting off oxygen is threatening your life. Attempting to dig your nails into the fabric of the hoodie is useless, his work gloves keeping his hands from getting any marks, either. Your lungs burn from lack of air and your vision slowly fades to black, a heat and chill settling over your body at the same time as you continue to feel his body pinning you down. The brutal fucking is the only sensation you still have, the stinging of your skin as he snaps his hips to meet yours and the squelching sounds from your sloppy pussy, cum and slick spurting and coating his cock as he chases his own high. You don’t know if he finished inside, your sensations dying out as you slip into unconsciousness.

When you wake up, your lungs ache and your face feels wet. When you flutter your eyes open, you’re faced with the creamy beige walls of Keiji’s bedroom, the lamp and phone on the bedside table. A presence is beside you, a large hand gently brushing your hair. Your eyes widen as you jolt, Keiji gently shushing you as he holds you. It’s comforting, someone familiar beside you after the experience you just had. You don’t know what happened after everything went black, but the smell of Keiji’s morning coffee and his cologne calm you down, tears spilling out as your fists bunch up the fabric of his shirt.

“I had a bad feeling, so I immediately came back home. I didn’t expect you to be completely unconscious, what did you do?” He asked, oblivious to what had really transpired. It was painful to recall, the fear from before rising again as you remember the man’s stature, looming over you as he pinned you to the bed. Another fit of tears come, the droplets soaking the white of Keiji’s shirt. “Darling, you need to tell me what’s wrong. What-“

“A stranger,” a hiccup interrupted you, red and tired eyes looking to his face. He looks confused, so you need to press on. “He broke in. Violated me. He— he ra-“

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. If I had known something so horrible would happen, I wouldn’t have left you all alone. You could’ve come with me, but you’ve been so naughty, you know,” his voice is gentle, but there’s a certain chill in his voice that has your fear spiking. His hands are warm, caressing your back as he speaks. “But, you know, you cheated on Bokuto-san and I. I have to punish you,”

“I— I didn’t do it on purpose!” Why were you defending yourself? Your mind had to momentarily adjust itself, the feeling of helplessness from earlier now back. Once the cuff had released the headboard, it was nothing for Keiji to force you into the bathroom. No amount of strength you had could compare to him, nor height. He wasn’t afraid to hurt you either, almost smashing your fingers in the door frame because you wouldn’t let go. “Akaashi, stop!!”

“Akaashi? Now, we can’t have that. You should address me properly, dear,” he grips your face, smushing your cheeks together as you find yourself practically flung into the tub. It’s already full of hot water, almost scalding, as he holds your head under. Struggling once more, it’s futile. His strength far surpasses yours, stature looming over you. Under the water, his image is distorted, but the way he looks down at you feels familiar. Before that thought can continue, you feel your lungs burning as you thrash again, thoughts only focused on surviving. When your head is pulled up, you gulp air as you cough, water sputtering as you do. “You need to be punished.”

“Let me go, I didn’t do anythi-“ your head is once more under the water, nails digging into the flesh of Keiji’s arms as he holds you still. You didn’t get a good gulp of air, so you’re quickly back at the previous feeling of helplessness as your lungs burn, vision blurring. Before everything goes black, you’re once more pulled from the water. Your face is hot, either from lack of air or the heat of the bathroom and water, you’re not too sure. But Keiji is sure of one thing and that’s the way you’re clinging to him. You were digging your nails into him, squirming and attempting to leave, but now your nails were digging into his as your grip tightened around his forearm. You were clinging to him, unconsciously seeing him as your savior, as he was the one who controlled your ability to breathe, therefore your life. He could drown you if he wanted to, but Kōtarō wouldn’t like that. No, he just needed you to depend on him, change your stance on how you saw your lovers.

Keiji also couldn’t help how delicious you looked, drenched as steam rose from the water, your white dress floating around you as if you were an ethereal being. You looked angelic and untainted... an urge to corrupt you washed over him, compelling his body into the steaming water. It was a tight fit, but he managed. With his sweatpants on, it was easy for him to simply push down the waistband and pull out his cock. “Now I have to cover up that man’s scent, or do you want everyone to know you’re a whore?”

“Akaashi, enough, this isn’t any diff-“

“Are you saying I’m a rapist? That’s what you’re implying, right? If you really think that, then I’ll be that. I would never purposefully hurt you,” his words contradict his actions, his hard cock pressing into your walls as he speaks. Sensitivity still lingers, your legs twitching as he sinks down to the hilt. “You’re saying I’m the bad guy, aren’t you? Well, how about I be the bad guy? Let’s recreate the scenario,”

“Akaashi, please, stop!” You cry out, weak limbs attempting to push him off. Hot, fat tears stream down your cheeks as Keiji licks them away, kissing their trails as you continue to sob at the feeling. It was a horrible feeling, being helpless, but a part of you knew you were safe. Keiji wouldn’t let you die, the only thing that prevented you from putting more effort in. Even with the splashing water, he kept one hand on the back of your head to prevent you from going under. Keiji’s pace is always the same — slow strokes, but deep and meaningful as he rocks his hips into yours and makes sure to roll his hips. It’s a completely opposite of Kōtarō’s, brutal and relentless, but Kōtarō fils you out more. Keiji has to make sure you feel every ridge, every vein, every pulse from his cock and have it completely engraved into your mind.

When Keiji gets close, he holds you closer to him, kissing your neck as your hands grasp at the tub’s edges, mind reeling from the force of your orgasms. Your nerves are on fire, your walls constantly clamping around Keiji’s cock like a vice, all while he rides out his own high. He presses a sweet kiss to the mark on your neck, where it meets your shoulder, right where he sports a matching mark on his own skin. It’s Kōtarō’s bond, what links him to the two of you forever. With a final thrust, Keiji spills deep inside you as he kisses you deeply, forcing you to swallow his moan of pleasure as he swallows your mewls. You’re still tight around him, walls fluttering pathetically around his girth as he relishes in the way you feel, keeping his seed locked inside you.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both panting heavily, chests heaving for different reasons. “There. Now he’s gone,” a gentle kiss on your temple. With those words, a silence settles over the room. Although the stranger may be gone, in his place stands Akaashi Keiji.

The next day, Keiji is home.

“Just a precaution, dear,” he had said. “So nothing else bad will happen to you when I’m not here. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” With those words, he convinced you of his intentions. The previous day’s events had you rattled, the fear of being alone subconsciously rooted into your mind. A small whimper of Keiji’s name, his given name, had him smiling and cooing at you, taking you anywhere in the apartment you wanted to go. It was nice to finally leave the bedroom and bathroom sections, seeing the front room and kitchen, able to hear and see people outside the windows. You dare not let your eyes linger too long on the windows, covered completely with only shadows passing by, nor on the door. The door which had a recently newly installed lock, to take extra precautions. A passing thought of how it seemed to be so quickly enforced comes by, leaving as you become hyper aware of the blank gaze Keiji gives you. It’s not blank, per se. It looks blank to many bystanders, but to you, you know he’s focusing. He’s watching you and analyzing what you do. It’s a test.

A test you seem to have passed, when he calls you back for a bath. He doesn’t guide you there, no threats, just a simple “Come along,” as he walks towards the same bathroom he almost drowned and violated you in. The fear and anxiety of going back has your flight or fight response kicking in, the seemingly easy option of flinging the door open and leaving has your legs moving. But Keiji is quicker, stronger, and smarter than you. Before your fingertips can even graze the lock, your face is slammed into the floor.

“You were doing so well, too,” his feet are planted on either side of you, one moving to plant itself on your back. With a bit of force, you’re screaming as he has his heel pushing into your spine. “You deserve to be punished.”

“Fuck you, Akaashi!” You spit, squirming and wriggling to get him off. When his foot moves, you attempt to get up, but soon he drops down and fists your hair in one hand, the other pushing your cheeks together.

“I should wash that dirty mouth of yours,” he growls, shoving your face against the floor. By shoving, he essentially drops you into the floor. With a burning sensation in your nose, you feel a vaguely familiar liquid trickling out, a small red dot beneath you. He does it once more, making sure to keep his hand on your head to prevent you from getting up. “I trusted you to listen to me, [Y/N],”

“I’ll never listen to you,” you declare, hands balling into fists beside you. “I’ll never forgive you and Bokuto for what you did. I’ll never forgive or forget how you raped me, either!”

“I did no such thing. You enjoyed it, whore. You clamped around me like a vice last night, just as you probably did the stranger that violated you. Can it be consider violation if you were wet? What about when you started to enjoy it?”

“How would you know that, unless-“

“I know how much of a slut you can be, sleeping around with Alphas in high school and other Betas. You probably got off on being raped,” He sneers, putting more force in his hand, making it uncomfortable as your cheek is smushed against the floor.

“Fuck you,”

“I’ll take that as a yes. As a punishment, you won’t be leaving that bedroom for some time,” he finally lets you free, a large breath of air inhaled as you realize he was putting his weight on your lungs. “Come here,”

Wrenched from the ground, you find yourself dragged, kicking and screaming, back into the bedroom where Keiji cuffs you to the headboard. He’s huffing, but he manages to get both wrists cuffed to the headboard. Back to square one, with you refusing to acknowledge him while he tries to talk. Well, he does talk, you’re forced to listen.

When dinner time comes around, you expect some plain chicken broth or maybe even water, but instead you’re given nothing. Keiji doesn’t come in the room at all. The water running let’s you know he’s washing dishes, but where’s your meal? When his humming enters the room, you know he’s coming down. When he opens the door, in his hand lays a plate with bread crust and crumbs, along with some pocky sticks. Just two, however. Barely considered a meal. “Dinner!”

“You’re kidding me,”

“Dear, you know I don’t joke around easily. You were naughty this afternoon, so you’re going to eat my leftovers. Bread crust and some stale pocky sticks is the only thing on your menu,”

“I’ll starve instead,” a glare sent his way does frazzle him one bit, instead almost makes him... chippier. As if you’re falling for his well hidden trap. A nod and he’s gone, your only source of food with him. He won’t enter to room again until nighttime, so you’re left to wallow in your own solitude, something you used to take for granted.

When Keiji does finally come into the room, you’re excited to see him before remembering you don’t like him. Instead of taking the key and releasing your restraints to sleep, he grabs his pillow, his blanket, and his phone charger. “Where are you going?”

“Well, since you obviously hate me, I thought it’d be best that I leave you alone. After all, that is what you wanted, yes?” A small smirk is on his face as your eyes widen, thoughts running through your head as he takes his leave. Without a bid goodnight, Keiji leaves you alone in the room. With no possible entertainment except your mind, you feel uneasy. Unsteady. The world is suddenly dropping you off in an empty room with nothing and you can’t think of anything to keep yourself entertained. The television set buzzes to life outside, while the popping of popcorn fills your ears along with the melted butter smell. An urge to move flits around, but you decide it is best to not.

The next day, it’s a similar situation. Within three days of Kōtarō’s leave, you’ve found yourself craving his company more than ever. Keiji is ruthless and merciless, entering the bedroom for clothes and then leaving for work. He doesn’t talk to you, he doesn’t look at you, he barely enters the room anymore. You feel your stomach grumble at the thought of food, your mouth dry from the lack of fluids in your system. A pathetic way to die, one would think. With the lack of nutrition, your body will eventually decay or fall into an unstable state. Keiji isn’t a dunce, he knows this — at least, he should. Why then, you wonder, is he allowing this? Not only are you completely attached to the bed, but you haven’t been able to get up at all, even for bathroom use. The urine has stained the sheets, turning the pristine white cotton into a grimy yellow color, the ammonia stench covering the entire bedroom. You felt like a helpless child, in dire need of your parents to come home.

In a way, that’s what it was. You were helpless and needed someone else’s help. You need Keiji’s help. You can only go so long before you end up breaking, and you’ve reached a limit. The disgusting liquid under you was the final thread, the squelching and squeezing every time your hips move to a different area to attempt to leave the spot resulting in a failed attempt. The white dress was soaked, first from the bathroom incident and now it was dyed yellow due to your own fluids. Kōtarō wouldn’t be happy with those results.

When Keiji finally comes home, you hear him. You hear the door close and a sigh. Waiting for him to enter the room is quickly disregarded as you call for him. With no hesitation, he arrives at the room, looking at you. “You called, darling?”

“Keiji, please. I’m sorry I was bad. I need you, please don’t leave me,” you cry out, pulling on the cuffs. Shushing you, he quickly attends to your wrists, red and raw from the tugging, pulling, and twisting you’ve done over the past day. Once one hand is free from the restraint, he’s happy to feel it grabbing his shoulder, a silent beg to not leave. “Kei-“

“I know, I know. I won’t hurt you,” his words calm you down, sobs turning into hiccups as he guides you off the bed. Your legs are weak, unstable from lack of use, so he bridal carries you into the bathroom, not caring about the urine. After setting you on the toilet, he strips you of your dress and starts the bath. Trusting you to not move, he leaves. Another test, to see if you’ve really shaped up after the last attempt.

Keiji stands in the bedroom, pulling the sheets off the bed and removing the pad. He puts them aside, but waits. No movement from the bathroom, not even the toilet seat squeaking or the shutting off of the water. Continuing to put the sheets and dress away, he picks out a set of panties — new and clean, a treat for being good — to go with the pastel pink sundress. It looks exactly like the other one, except the color. After getting a towel and a change of clothes himself, he leaves.

You’re still sitting on the toilet, looking at him as he enters. Perking up, you push into the hand the caresses your head, brushing the tangled hair. He stops the water, guiding you into the tub. Once you’re settled, he strips down and joins you.

“You’re not going to hurt me?” You ask, voice dull.

“Of course not. When have I ever done that?”

The next day is such an improvement, Keiji can’t help but let Kōtarō know how well you’ve adjusted. You’re compliant out of fear rather than love, but Kōtarō doesn’t know that. He’s so excited to see a picture of you cooking in the kitchen, he probably wouldn’t care. The picture doesn’t capture the longing look at the knives, the fleeting glances at the door, the rigidness of your body as Keiji wraps his arms around you. It’s small gestures, but you never move to accomplish the action. Your finger might twitch, a gulp as you see the unlocked door, but you continue on. You make the noodles, you bring the tray to Keiji, you sit in his lap and allow the arms to secure your place. The food is something you’re ever thankful for, the lack of food spurring your resilience into breaking. With a gentle blow, Keiji feeds you the ramen you dutifully prepared for the both of you all day.

You never looked at the door again. You never looked at the knives unless you were cutting something. Even with Keiji breathing down your neck, eyes focused on your hands, you didn’t twitch or move to hurt him. You went to the bathroom and didn’t complain when he joined you. Even when he had to do his little daily checkup, you didn’t complain. The first time, you mentioned it tickled and questioned what he was doing, sticking his nose between your legs as he pried them open. He just smiled and said he needed to know if you were healthy, to which your questions easily stopped. Although he occasionally swept his tongue over your still wet folds, you never told him to go away and leave you alone. Even when he went further and had put you on the bathroom’s countertop before diving between your legs once more, your fingers thread themselves through his hair as you moaned.

When the news of Kōtarō coming back reached your ears, you didn’t know how to feel. Keiji was the one to help you, give you comfort, so you didn’t feel too excited to see Kōtarō. Keiji knew this would cause problems, as Kōtarō was expecting you to be as loving to him as you were to Keiji. After an explanation of the situation, you promised to perform appropriately for Kōtarō. With a whispered threat of locking you up again, you easily complied with everything you were asked to do. When Kōtarō came through the door, he was easily able to catch you as you jumped on him. “Welcome back!”

“Aw, [Y/N]! I’m glad to be back!” He nuzzled into your neck, indulging in your scent. You could easily pretend to be in love with Kōtarō, but your scent would tell him if you were feeling off. With his superior senses, you had to be forced into a mindset where you did love Kōtarō. Threats and memories of the past had could nodding along, situating yourself into his life easily. “I missed you, a lot,”

“Well, we won’t have to be gone for so long again, right?” You ask, a pout forming. “Or are you going to leave me?”

“Oh, no! You’re gonna live with me,” he grins, a closed eye smile. Your eyes widen as the information is processing, Keiji coming from the kitchen.

“It was a surprise for you. We’ll be moving to Osaka to be close to Bokuto-san,” he’s drying a knife, one he recently finished washing, but it’s also a silent threat. Kōtarō didn’t see the horrified look on your face, but he sure did.

“O-Oh. Okay! I can’t wait, when are we.. when do we move?” Twiddling your fingers, Kōtarō wraps his arms around you once more, effectively picking you up. No hesitating, your legs wrap around his waist as he looks up at your face, love flooding his eyes.

“You’ll move in with me tomorrow. Once Akaashi��s boxed everything up, he’ll join us. Our room is all set up, and there’s lots of rooms for kids. Speaking of-!”

“Another time, Bokuto-san,” Keiji harshly whispered, Kōtarō’s eyes widening before smiling, nodding. You didn’t know what that was, but you then focused on Kōtarō moving to the couch.

“Let’s eat, I’m starving! Maybe I can have something special for dessert, if you know what I mean,” with an added eyebrow wiggle, you shyly smile and nod. It’s what Keiji told you would please Kōtarō. It’s what Keiji told you that you need to do.

The dinner itself is fine, but when you ask to use the restroom, Kōtarō points out the red splotches on your white dress. Panicking, you attempt to locate the spot as your face heats up in embarrassment. Keiji then points out the bit of blood on Kōtarō’s pants, making you think your cycle has started. At that mention, Kōtarō’s growling in anger as you seize up in fear, unsure of what to do. Keiji tells you to change while he deals with Kōtarō, you immediately obeying and going to the bedroom.

“I thought ovulating meant she would get pregnant. Why isn’t she pregnant? Were you wrong?” Kōtarō asks, still angry. He knows he scared you, your lingering scent of fear in the room and around him. He thought he could smell another scent on you, but he didn’t know what it could be.

“Bokuto-san, I know this is frustrating but it’s possible she didn’t get pregnant. However, spotting is a sign of pregnancy. It was only a few drops. If she has anymore blood leakage that gets heavy tonight, we’ll know,” Keiji is able to calm down Kōtarō, who rolls his shoulders back and lies against the back of the couch. “Do you want to change your jeans?”

“Nah, it’s barely noticeable. Plus,” a thumb runs over the denim, Kōtarō licking his lips as his eyes darken, “this is like she’s claiming me, right?”

Kōtarō does not force himself on you that evening. Instead, he just cuddles you that night. It’s a differing touch than Keiji’s, who ends up rolling to the other side of the bed in the night. Kōtarō holds you close and tightly all night, snuggling closer to you, as if it was possible, and nudging his nose in your neck. It’s sweet, you think, as he caresses you like you’re made of glass.

The next morning, Kōtarō has you properly dressed to leave with him. A set of panties, sweatpants, t-shirt, and a hoodie. It’s a casual set of clothes, but they are all you came to Keiji’s house in a week and a half ago. Kōtarō says he’ll get you better clothes once you’re settled in, but you feel uneasy as you bid goodbye to Keiji. He worries about your mental state once you’re alone with Kōtarō, but he just has to hope you’re able to seem stable enough for a day.

In Osaka, you feel like your life is beginning anew. It’s not much different from Tokyo, but as Kōtarō guides you through the streets, it becomes known that Osaka has a lot more greenery. It’s very beautiful, in your opinion. When he stops in front of an old house, you glance at him. “Our new home, sweetheart!” He cheers, kissing your cheek as he picks you up. Carrying you inside the house, you notice the security. The gate is only opened via pin entry, which the gate itself is roughly 2 meters tall. Even the door to the house requires thumbprint access, a very modern and technological touch in an older, traditional house.

He shows you to your room, which is also his room, but yours too. It has its modern touch, with the remaining aspect of futons to lay on. The cameras in the hallway also are in your view, the one in the bedroom and the hallway. Looking into each room, you notice they are containing cameras, but one room is different. “What’s this?”

“Oh? This is our nursery! So, when you have a baby, it’ll be in here,” he chirps, pointing out things in the room. Scanning the room, you notice the lack of camera secured.

“Where’s the camera?”

“What— what camera?” Rubbing the back of his neck, he fakes confusion. You see right through it.

“I noticed the other cameras. There’s not one here,”

“Oh, well, that’s because this room has baby monitors!” He gestures to the white device. A nod of understanding has the tour moving on. Showing you to the kitchen, you notice the pantry and fridge are stocked. “Would you make me dinner?”

“Of course. What do you want?”

“You, served hot and steaming in the bath,” he grins. Eyes widen as you realize what he wants, you sheepishly laughing as you acquiesce.

Kōtarō is much rougher than Keiji, you knew that, but the way he fucks you with fervor as he hasn’t seen you in almost five days is something akin to his rut. Sinking his teeth into your skin, remarking his territory as he spurs you into your first orgasm of the night. Your nails are digging into his broad shoulders, the only thing you can use to keep yourself grounded. The setting wasn’t in the bathroom, but rather the bedroom where he claimed he wanted to “seal the deal” of you coming home. Legs tighten around his waist, back arching as he continues to drive his cock into you and litter your neck with less painful marks, claiming already claimed territory. As he presses a wet, sloppy kiss against your lips, you scream as you tighten your walls, feeling his knot force its way inside you.

A warm hand rubs the side of your body as your walls convulse around him, squeezing as he pumps you full of his cum. It’s a memory to you, but it feels so warm and fulfilling, you immediately relax in his hold as he continues to pepper kisses along your body. It’s a comforting feeling, being praised and cared for, a drastic difference from the way Keiji treated you a few days ago. Well, how you think he treated you a few days ago. He said he never did it, but your body said differently. With Kōtarō’s eyes of love looking down on you, you didn’t think it mattered. That was in the past, this was the present. You felt comfortable here, that was what mattered.

When Keiji arrived with a bunch of boxes, you were told to make them lunch so they could eat when they were done. Kōtarō said he didn’t want you straining yourself after last night, so you agree to his demands. Deciding to make some udon for lunch, you get to work as they lug in the boxes. The boxes aren’t large nor heavy, but watching Kōtarō easily lift three of them with no effort, while Keiji brings in two at most with also no effort, you feel yourself get wet at the thought of them hot and sweaty afterwards. With a possible treat in mind, you work more diligently, mentally preparing yourself to ask them.

Keiji mentioned he’d be looking for another job while Kōtarō was at the gym. It would be the first time you would be alone and free to roam. You begged Keiji to not leave for too long, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt as he pried your hands off. Kōtarō gave you a sweet kiss before he left, telling you he’d try to hurry back, but you knew Keiji would get back first. Sitting in the large house, you didn’t know what to do except cook and sleep. Your phone screen lit up with a message from Kōtarō, a picture of him blowing you a kiss with a message of ‘I miss you!’ under it. You smile at that, sending back a message that you miss him, too.

Before you lock your phone, you look at the many games you have on it. There’s one game you don’t remember being on it, it looks like a tracker app. Clicking on it, it welcomes you and it shows how far along you are in.. pregnancy? First reaction is to panic, how do you know if you’re pregnant? Going into the internet app, you search up symptoms of pregnancy. One that jumps out to you is the spotting, only a little bit of blood as the sperm fertilizes the egg. It is most likely what you did on Kōtarō’s lap, the day he came to Tokyo. Another surge of panic comes as you think of your lovers, your mates. With Keiji looking for a new job and Kōtarō being busy with being a professional athlete, they don’t have time to take care of you and a baby. You decide to not tell them.

Although you decide to not tell them, the next week is excuses of your recent symptoms. You find yourself more exhausted than usual, not even getting out of bed to bid goodbye to Kōtarō and Keiji. Not only that, you end up in the bathroom as you feel sick, but only half of the times does something come up. It’s when you have another episode of morning sickness does Keiji pop the question. “Should I get a pregnancy test?”

“N-No! I’m not pregnant, just some bad sushi!” When Keiji’s grip on your arm gets tighter, you whimper. “Keiji, stop hurting me,”

“I’m not hurting you, I just need you to tell me the tru-“ the door shutting cuts him off, his attention to the door of the bathroom where Kōtarō is, panting.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? I could sense it,”

“I’m just a bit sick-“ “She’s pregnant-“ You both speak at the same time. Your eyes widen as Keiji looks at you.

“Pregnant? Now? Really?” Kōtarō is ecstatic, but you don’t take it that way.

“I’m not, I promise! I’m sorry!” You beg. Kōtarō’s mood turns sour, the anger directed towards you. Keiji stands back, but he doesn’t interfere.

“Why are you lying to me? If Keiji says you are, then you are! I know you’re lying!” He kneels on the ground and grabs your shoulders, digging his meaty fingers into the flesh. You yelp in pain, attempting to get him off. “Why are you doing this?! You were doing so well!”

“Stop, Kō-chan, stop! You’re hurting me!” A call out of his childhood nickname has his rage quelling, as you brush his hands off and rub the stinging skin. “I don’t want to be pregnant,”

“This isn’t about what you want. It’s about what we want, do you understand that?” Keiji speaks, voice low and threatening. You quickly nod your head, attempting to explain yourself.

“I- I thought that you wouldn’t want a baby because you’re both busy! I don’t- I don’t want to burden you more than I do,” with your words, the anger and rage suddenly evaporates as they understand.

“Burden us? Baby, we love you and do everything for you. You’re going to be carrying my pups and Keiji’s babies, we want this. This is all I ever hoped for,” Kōtarō coos, taking your hands and pressing a kiss to them. A fit of sobs escape as you wrap your arms around him, hiccuping into his chest. Keiji sits and smiles, knowing you have completely adjusted into the proper role.

With the news of your pregnancy, Kōtarō is able to get off a lot more to be there for you. You’re no omega, so it’s not as if he has to take off for 9 months, and Keiji is there to take care of you. Keiji takes care of any appointments you need to do, signing you into a private hospital nearby where Kōtarō’s teammate’s omega gave birth. A list of what was normal was given to you and Keiji and what would be a cause for concern, so you made sure to drill into your head about the possible problems. It was vital that you were able to give birth, being able to give Kōtarō and Keiji what they wanted all you needed to take care of yourself. Keiji prepared your meals, making sure you were eating properly even before the bump showed.

When the bump became prominent, you were glad that your wardrobe consisted of dresses. The dresses you had were all loose-fitting and easy to move around in. With the upcoming winter months, you had lots of blankets and an oversized jacket, bearing Kōtarō’s MSBY number and logo. Kōtarō couldn’t keep his hands off of you, always rubbing your bump and pinching the extra fat you were putting on. Worry over the added weight was a brief concept that quickly evaporated as Kōtarō voiced how much he loves the extra meat to fondle and love, tickling you as you giggle afterwards. Keiji couldn’t say he disagreed with Kōtarō, the added weight adding to your cuteness charm as you did the most basic and minuscule things. He could disagree with Kōtarō on the obsession with the pregnancy milk, however.

Lactation was painful, the way your boobs ached as they were full of creamy milk. Although they ache, Kōtarō encouraged you to let him drink from them. Hesitation was in the beginning, but once his lips had secured themselves on your nipple and started sucking, it was quite relaxing. The tender ache in your breasts were gone as Kōtarō drank from them, but he often had to drink from both of them due to Keiji’s aversion. He didn’t see the appeal, he rather enjoyed teasing your nipples when the sexual appetite of yours had risen, but he didn’t see the appeal in drinking the milk. Keiji did oblige Kōtarō, however, in looking into lactation cookies, which would increase milk production and could even make it taste better. It was worth a try, as it would help the children to develop as you breastfed them.

The lactation cookies Keiji made looked awful, but tasted amazing. You would have eaten all of them had it not been for Keiji stopping you. Kōtarō seemed excited, immediately begging for another go. He’d have to wait until nighttime, since he often took naps after you breastfed him during the day.

At night, you often slept completely naked, able to easily feed Kōtarō if he woke up in the middle of the night. Your sex drive had risen exponentially in your second trimester, to the point Kōtarō had to request off to take care of you. He made sure to keep his promise, stuffing you with his thick cock and plugging you up with his cum or lapping at your folds until your fluids splashed against his face. With the third trimester underway, your libido has decreased while your milk had increased, but that didn’t deter Kōtarō from getting frisky. Even as Keiji bathed away from you two, he couldn’t help but touch himself to your whines and mewls.

Kōtarō has been riding a cloud since your pregnancy came about. Even before the milk, he found it hard to resist fucking you, especially with the added sensitivity. Your breasts were larger now, bouncing with every thrusts as he tweaks the nipples, watching the cream dribble from them. He can’t help himself, really, as he goes to attach himself to one of your perky buds. When Keiji enters the room, he chuckles at the sight.

“Should we worry that there won’t be enough milk for you and the baby?” He muses, sitting on the futon next to you. Your hand grasps at his silk shirt, bringing him down to give you a kiss. Even as Kōtarō drills into you, you want more. A wet pop resounds around the room as Kōtarō laughs, groaning in your ear as he plugs you with his knot, pumping you full.

“The pup can have those bottles, and with help of those miracle cookies, we should be fine. You sure you don’t want to at least try a bit? It feels nice for her, doesn’t it, my little Beta?” He coos, pressing kisses to your cheeks as you come down from your high, walls fluttering around Kōtarō’s cock.

“It relieves some pain, I’ll admit that,” you smile at Keiji. “You can try,”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” He smiles back at you, brushing hair out of your face. Kōtarō massages your breast, holding it so Keiji can attach his lips to the nipple. His eyes focus on the creamy liquid dripping from the bud, only to become transparent as it follows gravity. When he does get a taste, he knows he’s in trouble. It’s as delicious as Kōtarō said, creamy and full that makes you want more. As he sucks with fervor, you giggle and Keiji is joined by his other lover, suckling any milk he left behind. It’s such a strange thing to happen, both grown men sucking on your chest as if they had been born only recently. With the swell of your stomach, you knew they’d have to share their milky mine.

As your due date drew near, you found yourself unable to do anything alone. Kōtarō was off completely until you delivered and Keiji was no longer looking for a job, as it was decided Kōtarō made enough for everyone to live comfortably. He knew he’d have to find another job soon, as more children were born and needed to be fed, but that was a well ways off, at least 9 more months.

What started as a normal day soon turned to chaos as preparations for delivery expedited when your water broke. The hospital had your room prepared already, but it was for your week stay as you were three days away from your date. Kōtarō was in a frenzy, unsure of what to do but desperate to do something. Keiji has to drive to the hospital, while you were doing breathing exercises with Kōtarō in the back seat. It was the birth of their first child, so even Keiji was panicking, but he was also excited.

Once settled into the room, the nurses had to check to see how far along you were dilated. Kōtarō was anxious, his scent permeating the room as he started to pace. The doctor had come in, spurring him into a fighting mentality because the doctor was another Alpha. Keiji and a nurse had to get him out of the room, with a promise he could see the children once they were born, but he would have to wait in the waiting room. Weakly calling out his name and telling him you were fine, he obliged as he left, punching the wall once as he felt his emotions boil over. Keiji was by your side, holding your hand as you squeeze it, pushing when the doctor told you to.

When the room was filled with screaming, the clock chiming as 12:15 had arrived, signaling the date of birth of your first born son. With his stubby arms and legs, you laughed as you held him, Keiji getting the honor of cutting the cord. The baby still needed to be cleaned and checked over, so the doctor and nurses took him while Keiji went to get Kōtarō. By the time Kōtarō and Keiji has come back, you were holding a small, but still big, baby boy swaddled in a thick blanket. Kōtarō immediately raced over to look over both of you, his scent out of control as his emotions mingled together. He didn’t know what to think.

“It looks like it’s yours, Kōtarō,” Keiji says, hand resting on Kōtarō’s shoulder. He smiles in response, looking at the baby’s golden eyes blinking open at him.

“Sure does, Keiji. I guess the next thing we should work on is proper marriage, right?” He watches as the baby grasps his finger, the small hand even smaller compared to his large one.

“A proper marriage, yes. The ring, the dress, the ceremony, you would like that, wouldn’t you dear?”

“Of course Keiji. Anything you want.” As you look up to him, he sees nothing but love in your eyes. He smiles, nodding in agreement.

“Well, as well as making sure the next one’s mine. We should start on that as soon as possible, don’t you think?”

1K notes · View notes

realtacuardach · 3 years

Text

On Ice

Figure Skating AU for Obiyuki Bingo 21!

(Special thanks for @sabraeal , @bubblesthemonsterartist , @ruleofexception , and youlee on the Obiyuki Discord for help with the music!)

~~~

Stepping onto the ice, Shirayuki felt herself leaving her troubles behind to stay, as they always did, on the benches behind the plexiglass. Her breath gusted out from her mouth, trailing behind as she glided to the center of the silent rink. She reached above her head, feeling her shoulders pop satisfyingly, before craning her head back to release the tension in her neck. Nothing could release all the tension she was feeling at the moment, but it definitely helped - somewhat.

She took another deep breath, bent her knee so that one leg stretched out behind her while the other took most of her weight - and pushed off.

The ice rink was a lot quieter now than it was in the middle of the day, the Olympic-quality rinks hosting times for ice hockey players, speed skaters, and ice dancers. It got even louder when the rink opened up for the public - those of the public who could afford it, anyway - because the director through that cultivating public support opened the rink up for more interest in the sports programs, a greater influx of talent that he could presumably snap up, and, of course, more merchandising opportunities.

Izana certainly likes to keep a finger on the pulse of everything, Shirayuki thought to herself, and choked a little on the foreign bitterness intermingling with the observation. Usually, it bemused her more than anything else, but today…

She tried to push the thought away as she finished one lap and started another, picking up speed. Cold air streamed more and more quickly past her face as she rounded the rink, making her eyes water, which at least gave her something to focus on.

I shouldn’t be surprised, I should have seen this coming, she thought, the cold and stinging eyes not powerful enough to slow down her mind. She slowed to a stop, realization dawning as she began to feel the burn in her calves. No, I’m not surprised, it’s what I expected.

Somehow, that only made her feel worse.

Shirayuki huddled down, resting her hips against the scuffed ice, her arms wrapped around her knees, the old insulated pants crinkling in a familiar way that soothed her, just a little bit.

Really, she should just be grateful that Zen wasn’t more hurt. He’d been lucky that she’d been watching the last-minute scrimmage he and his team had put on after hockey practice, before their paired skating practice. It could have been a lot worse.

She exhaled heavily, squeezing her face more tightly into her knee.

“All right there, Twirls?”

Shirayuki looked up and craned her head towards the sound. The side doors for the storage area for the Zamboni were open, and she saw the familiar form of Obi leaning against the machine.

She would have preferred to have been alone with her thoughts, but if anyone was to find her, she was glad it was him. She blinked away the traitorous moisture, put on her brightest smile, and nodded briskly. “No.”

Shirayuki cursed. She could never lie to him.

Even from across the rink, she could see his eyebrow arch, stretching the old scar above his eye. He straightened up a little, all his muscles at attention despite his deceptively languid stance. “Seem a little undecided there, Twirls.”

“I just got back from the hospital.””

“Yeah?” Obi responded. “How’s Ace doing? I’ve never seen Coach turn that shade of red before.”

Mitsuhide took a lot of things in stride, but there were two things that he absolutely did not. Like a proper Canadian transplant, the preservation and promotion of hockey was paramount to him. One did not mess with his hockey team and escape unscathed.

The other thing was Zen - his safety and well-being, not only as his friend but also as his star player, was also paramount.

So Zen taking a chance during the scrimmage to use one of his most acrobatic aerial leaps to soar over the other team (ostensibly intending to steal the puck and score a goal rather than slamming into the side of the rink and significantly spraining his ankle) had definitely...elicited a reaction from Mitsuhide.

He had vacillated between panic (“Are you okay, Zen? Can you stand? Is it broken, Shirayuki?”) and rage (You idiot! We were ahead by three goals. And this was practice!”)

Mitsuhide practically frothing at the mouth had unnerved most of the hockey players, so Shirayuki was grateful that Kiki had skated forward, shucking her gloves off to help stabilize Zen’s ankle as she splinted it before grabbing Mitsuhide by the back of his jersey and forcibly escorting him off the rink when he would not stop hovering.

(If it had been a less serious moment, Shirayuki would have laughed at the new redness burning the top of Mitsuhide’s ears as he was behind held by the third thing he had difficulty taking in stride.)

“Doctor says he’ll make a full recovery.”

“No doubt,” Obi grinned, walking smoothly towards her. “Between Coach’s mother-henning and your splinting skills, he didn’t have much time for it to get serious.”

The compliment glowed warm and low in her chest, but then it was overwhelmed by the cold feeling she got as she remembered what happened after Zen’s surgery. She fought back tears, hoping Obi wouldn’t notice.

He did.

“Twirls?”

She would have given everything to respond to him, but she didn’t trust her voice.

Obi sat down beside her, and she felt his arm move across her shoulders before squeezing them reassuringly. She leaned her head onto his chest, feeling the embroidery of his name push against her cheek, grounding her as his chest rose beneath her. A breath shuddered out.

“He’s going to be okay.” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “But Izana says he can’t do both ice skating and hockey any more.”

“Oh.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Well, that’s a shame, Twirls, but it does make sense. This isn’t a Disney Channel movie, he can’t do both at the same time forever. That’s a lot of strain for the ankle to take, even for a paragon like Ace. But he can still play scrimmages and stuff sometimes, right? Boss can’t expect him to just quit hockey completely-”

“He chose hockey.”

The soothing rubbing stopped. “What?”

Shirayuki cleaned her throat again, shuddered. “He chose hockey.”

The hand on her shoulder didn’t move, but she feel his muscles tensing, and she opened her eyes to see his other hand clenched into a fist. He must have noticed that she had noticed because he exhaled deeply and let his fingers relax.

“But...what about your competition?”

Shirayuki sighed and settled back against his chest. “It’s early enough to change categories, and I’m used to skating singles, anyway -”

“That’s what you think? Or what Boss thinks?”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter either way, it’s done.”

Obi was still for a long time, so still that Shirayuki eventually opened her eyes to check on him. His jaw was set so tightly that she was surprised that she couldn’t hear teeth grinding, and his eyes, which usually glittered with mischief or glowed with humor, were hard and flinty.

At her movement, Obi looked down at her, his eyes softening and his expression turning apologetic as his hand resumed its soothing rhythm. “I’m sorry, Twirls.” He looked out towards the Zamboni he was supposed to be driving, and snorted. He muttered, so low that she probably wasn’t supposed to hear, “I can’t believe he didn’t-”

Shirayuki shrugged, cutting him off. “He tried - at first, anyway. All the way to the hospital, he was holding my hand and promising that everything would be fine, that he’d figure something out.” She sighed. “I guess he did.”

“Or Boss did.”

“You know how important the team is to him.”

Obi squeezed her shoulder a final time before removing his arm from her shoulders and standing up. “I know how important you are, Twirls.” He held out a hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

She took his hand and let him pull her up. “Where?”

~~~

The moon was big and full, casting an ethereal glow over the frozen pond. Shirayuki took in a deep breath, feeling the icy sharpness of the air sting her nose, and smiled. She loved to skate anywhere, and she’d always be grateful for having the opportunity to skate at the rink, as fancy as it was. But there was something more...real about skating on a pond. It reminded her of the first time she glided across the lake near her grandparents’ pub, the feel of her father’s gloves beneath her mittens as he taught her to skate, of spinning free in the center of a lake, hair flying and arms outstretched, feeling light and airy and free.

Obi’s keys jingled as he shoved them into his coat pocket, stomping through the snow as he made his way over from his pick-up. “Feeling better, Twirls?”

“Just about,” she nodded. “The moon is so beautiful tonight.”

Obi hummed under his breath, and looking up, she saw him staring across the lake deep in thought.

“Makes me think of the night we met,” she continued.

It showed how much time had passed since they had met that Obi didn’t wince. She knew he wasn’t proud of how the first time they’d met officially was after he’d been caught for spreading debris across the pond where she had been practicing to trip her up and scare her off from the up-and-coming hockey player. Some enthusiast for the hockey team hadn’t liked that some outsider redhead was distracting The Zen Wisteria from the game.

Clearly, Obi had not been expecting her to leap over the debris without a moment’s hesitation. She could still remember the surprise and impressed look in his eyes as she met his stare head on after landing. He had even applauded her, which probably had some part in how quickly Mitsuhide and Kiki were able to catch up to him. Zen hadn’t been impressed with the stunt, but he had been impressed with the speed of Obi’s skating.

Despite Zen’s best efforts, Obi could not be pressed upon to actually join the speed skating relay team, but Zen had at least succeeded in getting him a job - reportedly to “keep him out of trouble” but they all knew better - at the rink. He took to driving the Zamboni with an enthusiasm that mildly terrified Mitsuhide, and he had a wealth of information on the surrounding area teams.

Obi gave a self-critical smile. “Good times, right? Except for when I got my face mashed into the snow by Miss Kiki.”

“It was good,” she agreed vehemently, “because it was the night I met you.”

She could feel her ears burning beneath her earmuffs and she quickly looked away over the lake. She heard a cough and saw Obi looking sheepish, one hand behind his head and red glinting through the olive skin of his cheeks.

“Same, Twirls.” He coughed again, and then made a shooing gesture. “Go on already, I know you’ve been dying to.”

Shirayuki needed no further prompting. She sat down in the snow, yanked off her boots, and slid on her skates. She pushed off the snowy ground and wobbled for a moment before steadying herself on Obi’s outstretched arm. “Thanks.” She stepped onto the ice, then craned her head back. “You coming?”

He kept gesturing towards the ice. “In a minute.”

The ice of the pond wasn’t quite as smooth as the ice of the rink - despite all his pleas in the past, Obi had never been allowed to take the Zamboni out for a “test drive” - but she liked that. The blades caught the slight divots and waves the water had settled into as it froze, and it reminded her of the lake back home. She could hear the birds settling into the nightly roosts and smell the fragrant scent of pine trees as a breeze blew into her face. Her nose was already red from the cold, and it felt amazing.

Shirayuki closed her eyes and spread her arms out wide. She felt free.

Na-na-na-na, na-na, na, I wanna start a fight!

Only years of experience in skating kept her from falling face first onto the ice, and she looked towards the sound. “Obi? What?”

The pick-up truck was running, the headlights spilling across the snow, and Obi was standing on the runner, holding onto the door with one hand and waving his phone with the other. Music blared out of the cab of the truck.

So, so what, I’m still a rock star-

“No time like the present, Twirls!” He bellowed over the music. “Let’s get that first-prize routine started.”

“Obi!” She was laughing now, her lungs burning beautifully. “Not that one!”

“It’s a good song,” he protested, “and it was the first one on Torou’s ‘Break My Heart, I’ll Break His Face’ playlist.”

Of course, Torou would have that as a playlist.

“Next one!” She yelled, making a new round around the perimeter of the pond.

“Fine, but I’m telling Torou!”

It was an empty threat, they both knew Torou would take her side.

I do my hair toss, check my nails-

“Yes!” Shirayuki crowed and pushed off to the center, tossing her hair and splaying her fingers along to the music.

Baby, how you feelin’?

She spun once, twice, three times before skating backwards shimmying her shoulders in time with the music. She went faster and faster -

You know you a star, you can touch the sky-

And she leapt. And again. And again.

She was breathless with laughter and could see Obi’s grin all the way from the shore between spins.

The song faded, and the next began.

It took too long, it took too long, it took too long for you to call back-

“Too fast!” She called.

“Lies!” He called back, “Get it, Twirls!”

She stopped herself with a hand on the ice before tearing off around the pond, picking up speed.

This is the potential break-up song-

She began to make almost lazy spins in the center of the pond, her arms gliding in patterns in front of her and behind her head before speeding up once the chorus starting blaring.

Potential Break-up Song segued into IDGAF, and then into Cee-Lo. She was breathless and her arms ached from skating and her face ached from smiling and everything felt right.

We could have had it all, rolling in the deep

You had my heart inside your hand and

Played it to the beat-

Her heart stuttered despite herself, and she sighed.

“Twirls?”

She waved him off, and picked up speed. Faster and faster she went, leaving her hurt and anger behind, feeling nothing but the burn in her muscles, the ice beneath her feet, the chill in the air, and the music in her ears. One leap, two leaps, and then she slid back on her left foot -

We could have had it all!

-And she spun backwards into a Salchow.

She landed, blushing at the Obi’s whoops and cheers, and felt proud but spent. She slowed down, her heart pounding as Adele continued to sing, and skated towards where she’d left her boots.

Obi padded down towards them as well, bending down to scoop them up and lifting them out towards her as she approached. She shook her head vigorously and stuck out her hand. “No, your phone.”

He arched his brow. “Huh?”

Shirayuki thrust her hand towards the phone, fanning her fingers vigorously. “Your phone, gimme. Come join me!”

“Twirls…”

She knew it was cheating to give him The Eyes. She didn’t care. “Obi.”

He took a shuddering breath and covered his face with his hand. “Fine.” He handed over the phone and tramped through the snow back to the truck.

By the time he had pulled his old skates from the truck bed and laced them onto his feet, she had scrolled through the phone and disregarded several songs before picking the best one.

Obi stepped out onto the ice. “Gonna tell me what you picked?”

She pushed Play and stuck the phone into her pocket, zipping it. “Nope.”

“Twirls…”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” she chided, hoping the nonchalance in her voice drowned out the pounding of her heart. She reached out her hands. “Skate with me?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m not that fancy of a skater, Twirls.”

“I don’t want fancy, Obi,” she insisted. “I want you.”

That was...a lot more blunt that she had intended. But it was a night for change, and as his hand enveloped hers, it felt right.

She braced one foot behind her and pulled on his hand. And he followed.

Hand in hand, they skated to the center of the pond, and Shirayuki strained to hear the opening chords from the truck radio. As the piano began, she pushed off, with Obi following their linked hands.

What would I do without your smart mouth?

Obi’s hand tightened on hers, and she was hyper aware of how the heat of his palm burned hers through their gloves.

My head’s underwater, but I’m breathing fine

You’re crazy and I’m out of my mind.

This was moving too fast, she was being too forward. But it felt like all her pieces were falling into place. Obi wasn’t used to leisurely skating, he was more of a speed skater and going slowly nearly made him stumble. But in the next glide, his movements were more smooth and together they fell into the same rhythm.

Cause all of me loves all of you

All your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Their eyes met, and even now she could see some hesitation. Her grip on his hand tightened and she adjusted her stride so she was closer to him. Even as their breath fogged around them into the cold night air, she could only feel the warmth of him beside her. Shirayuki turned, skating backwards and pulling him to follow her into a small spin. And Obi, who she’d seen charm birds out of the trees, looked almost dazed before following along.

Give your all to me

I’ll give my all to you

You’re my end and my beginning

Even when I lose, I’m winnin’

Slowly, they spun around each other, the circles growing slower and smaller until she was fully in his arms. Even as his arms wrapped around her, she could feel hesitation in the quivering of his muscles. She took a big breath, laced with the scent that was so distinctly Obi, and took the plunge, laying her head against his shoulder.

His breath shuddered, and she was held so close she couldn’t tell where she started and he began.

Give me all of you, oh

Cards on the table, we’re both showing hearts

Risking it all, though it’s hard

There was always a risk to be completely honest. But she trusted Obi. She hoped he trusted her, too.

“Obi?”

“Yes?”

“Is this-” Despite her resolve, she could feel her fingers trembling. She had been brave up until now. “Do you feel- I mean…”

Obi pulled back and gave her an intense look. “Shirayuki.”

(She refused to faint, but hearing him say her actual name like that was making it a real possibility.)

“Yes.”

Her heart leapt into her throat. She was about to show that word all the appreciation it deserved, but then Obi opened his mouth again.

“But I won’t get in the way of-”

Only he could make her want to smack him and hug him at the same time. “There’s nothing to get in the way of, Obi. There’s just friendship there, and right now even that’s a little dodgy.”

Obi looked dazed again. “Oh.”

She smiled at him, adrenaline making her lips quivered. He brushed his hands against the outside of her arms and she melted against him.

The song had long since stopped, and they stood in silence for a long time.

“Shirayuki.” Obi began, and as much as Shirayuki liked his nickname for her, she definitely would like hearing her full name from him more often, especially when his voice held that husky tone.

She looked up and met his gaze, which was full of intent. He lowered his head to hers, slowly enough that she could pull back or pull away if she wanted.

She didn’t want to.

Instead, she lifted her head so that her lips met his.

#obiyukibingo21 #ans #Akagami no Shirayukihime #obiyuki #figure skating au

27 notes · View notes

altairtalisman · 3 years

Text

"My brother's the only one I have left, so it's my duty to find him!"

The fourth party member Geo meets, Gladea Xenos is determined to find her missing brother even at the cost of her life. That doesn't mean that her kitty paws aren't sharp enough to leave enemies to bleed for days.

Gladea's bio is under the cut.

Name: Gladea Xenos (pronounced Glay-dee-ah Zen-noss)

Age: 28

Height: 166 cm

Birthday: 17 April (Aries)

Personality (Miitopia): Stubborn

Job (Miitopia): Cat

Pronouns: She/Her

Likes: HP Bananas, MP Sweets, Shui's and Hubert's cooking, Baby Food, Bomble Gum, Goblin Ham, Snake Meunière, Dragon Fruit, Gladen Xenos (in a sibling way), Theodosia Varniet (in a romantic way), getting her way, cats

Dislikes: Not getting her way, dogs, when people make fun of her job, Kind Golems, Bone Biscuit, Golem Steak, Cake with too much cream

Hobbies: Swimming, concocting questionable drinks with Dae-Yang, fishing, tinkering around with machines

Clothes: Dark grey robe-like top with light green accents and a pair of black shorts are worn for comfort. A light green magnetic cloth is tied around the waist to hold the top in place, and a mechanical tail is attached to the back of the cloth via magnetic clips. A device containing a retractable knife is attached to the tail.

Gladea wears a pair of magnetic smart gloves with glow in the dark circuit patterns, and also wears a set of sharp metal finger claw rings on both hands. They are fastened securely by chains attached to a second set of rings and a pair of metallic green bracelets, the latter being part of her smart gloves.

She also wears a pair of smart shoes with glow in the dark circuit patterns that are securely held onto her feet by a pair of metallic green anklets. She wears a set of glow in the dark cat-themed headphones, and pierced in her left ear is a green metal earring that matches her brother's.

Sexuality: Lesbian

Description: Silm and flexible build, resembling an actual cat. Has honey blonde hair that is tied into two high pigtails. Similar to her twin brother, she has aqua forest eyes and rose beige skin. Scars are littered across her body, with majority of the visible scars gained from dangerous encounters with big cats. The scars along her neck and on her forehead are from the incident that left her parents dead.

She wields the complete set of finger claw rings in order to deal serious damage to her enemies. Always smiling, she leaps into battle without a shred of fear. She sports six strokes of glow in the dark face paint on her cheeks, resembling cat whiskers.

In her Feral Cat form, her irises narrow to resemble a cat. For unknown reasons, these strokes change to resemble lightning bolts whenever she enters this form.

Background: Prior to the events of the game, she was studying the habitats of wild cats as part of her university thesis. Gladen used to send her money to provide for her basic needs every month, which meant that she had to work part-time at a cat cafe at the edge of Greenhorne to pay for her university tuition. She grew worried after he stopped sending her letters and money suddenly, and was extremely concerned that it happened around the time the Dark Lord was terrorising other towns.

As she was worried that Gladen was in danger of falling victim to the Dark Lord, she decided to set out to find him. Given that she didn't have much fighting experience, she spent a few weeks researching the similarities between the hunting patterns of humans and felines. Once she had gathered sufficient research, she designed her own weapon and attire by incorporating technology into the framework. She also attended some of the illegal boxing matches held in her town to quickly learn how to throw a decent punch as well as dodging nimbly.

Shortly after setting out, the divine power reached out to her and requested her to aid Geo in his quest to stop the Dark Lord. Gladea didn't have to be convinced in order to help Geo as it was clear to her that they had the same goal.

Upon discovering that the Dark Lord was her brother, albeit possessed by the Dark Curse, she refused to abandon him even as she was thrown into the dungeon and got her face stolen shortly after her escape. Gladen is the only family member she had left, and she would exchange her life for his if it meant guaranteeing his survival, be it at the hands of the Dark Curse or the party members who wished to kill him.

She's seen as stubborn by everyone, including Theodosia and Gladen, but few understand that she's mostly this way as she harbours regret for being unable to save her parents as a result of her childhood cowardice. As she hid instead of attempting to save her parents from the Kind Golem when she was 11, she had to watch her parents die and as such, vowed to abandon safety when it comes to protecting those she care for.

Even in adulthood, Gladea wishes that she could change her parents' fate and carries on her wish by ensuring that she changes the fates of everyone else even if it means dying in the process. This is also why she loves eating HP Bananas and MP Sweets as it helps her to prolong her survival a bit longer in battles, and the last thing she wants is to die without being able to help everyone else to the best of her ability.

Feral Cat Form:

#Miitopia #Gladea Xenos #tw scars #her in-game weapon is the Alley Cat Claws #I view the Cat job as a brawler with cat-inspired behaviours #even one of the weapons the Cat has is a pair of boxing gloves #Altair draws

4 notes · View notes

misssophiachase · 4 years

Text

For @klarolinefallbingo Jack ‘O’ Lantern

Part 1 of this drabble - Knives Out (Pumpkin Carving Consent) - is HERE

Everyone’s A Winner

Klaus has decided to propose and thinks pumpkin carving is a good way to do it given Caroline lives for the activity and the holidays. Pity his competitive siblings didn’t get the memo on helping to behave and set the mood.

Mikaelson Compound - New Orleans, LA - Halloween Eve

“Kol stabbed me,” Rebekah whined, gesturing to the red, bloodied mark that was already beginning to heal.

“Nothing I haven’t done before and will do again, that’s a promise. Anyway, she dumped these disgusting pumpkin innards all over me,” he growled, attempting to remove the orange gunk from his dark hair.

Caroline couldn’t quite believe they’d walked the earth for over one thousand years given the level of maturity they were currently displaying. But at the same time, it was incredibly amusing.

Her boyfriend didn’t seem to share her thoughts given the dirty looks he was shooting their way from the other side of the courtyard. He’d been extremely protective and secretive of his finished product since they began carving. Caroline liked that they were both highly competitive and after tonight she knew that would translate well in their bedroom.

Elijah meanwhile was incredibly zen putting the final touches on his pumpkin, clearly he’d learned how to block his siblings out after all those years spent together.

“Maybe if you two spent more time carving and less time complaining we might finish these in time for this Halloween,” Klaus growled, finally finding his voice.

“Someone is clearly worried his pumpkin won’t win the competition.”

“Last time I checked I was the artist in the family, little sister,” he scoffed.

“Enough with the oversized ego, Nikalus,” Kol groaned. “So, when I do win, what’s my prize, darling?”

Caroline paused momentarily, realising she hadn’t thought of a prize. Given the Mikaelsons seemed to actually be participating and enjoying a holiday, Caroline knew she needed to think of something fast.

“Well, I think you’re all doing an impressive job...”

“Did someone spike her pumpkin spiced latte?” Kol asked curiously.

“Enough with the pleasantries, Forbes, what will I win?” Rebekah demanded.

Gee, these Mikaelsons were a tough crowd to please.

“You know it’s not about who wins and loses, right?” Elijah had returned to the conversation. “It’s about the fun of participating.”

“No, I think someone spiked his latte,” Rebekah snorted.

“Nobody spiked anything,” she shot back tersely. “Why can’t you people just get along and appreciate the holidays? Is that too much to ask in this family?”

“Exactly! I’ll dagger you all if you don’t cease haranguing Caroline,” Klaus snarled. Given his tone, Caroline knew he wasn’t joking and would probably do it.

“Threats aren’t in the holiday spirit either,” Caroline admonished. Yes, he could be hot when he was protective but wasn’t setting a good example either.

“Okay, the winner gets bragging rights until Thanksgiving.” Given the unimpressed looks on their faces, Caroline knew that wouldn’t cut it. “Uh, and a special holiday trophy.” She lied. It was all she had on such short notice.

“We get a trophy?” Rebekah asked excitedly.

“No, I get the trophy,” Kol shot back.

“Yes,” Caroline faltered, not expecting that to please the Original siblings who could have anything they wanted in the world. “And the winner keeps it until Thanksgiving when we’ll have another challenge and so forth.”

“Why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?” Rebekah asked.

“Yeah, I could have definitely gotten into these holidays if I knew I could beat Rebekah.”

Turns out that competitive streak ran in the family. Caroline loved Klaus but had always struggled fitting in with his prickly siblings. Maybe they were more alike than she first thought?

If it meant they would enjoy the holidays with her, Caroline knew she’d had a small victory. She couldn’t miss the way Klaus was flashing those dimples in her direction from afar, clearly reading her thoughts.

“Okay less talking and more carving. Once you finish we’ll light them up for judging and no peeking beforehand.”

The siblings were uncharacteristically quiet as they finished their creations. Caroline meanwhile had to come up with a trophy at last minute. Lucky she loved a challenge and was extremely resourceful under pressure.

Two hours later

“This whole competition is fixed!” Kol hissed, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. Rebekah was close on his heels.

“Talk about a conflict of interest. Unbelievable!”

“Way to ruin this moment,” Klaus growled. “For once could you two please stop thinking about yourselves and shut the hell up?”

Caroline meanwhile was in total shock, unable to reply let alone form words. Well, none that were in actual English. She could only focus on the light-filled jack ‘o’ lanterns nearby.

“Well, I think it’s all rather lovely,” Elijah offered, gesturing to them lined up in a row in the courtyard, the glow emanating reflecting a warm, orange hue.

In any other situation this might have been romantic, heartwarming even. But not with this family.

“He’s not only hoodwinked our judge, he carved three pumpkins. That wasn’t in the rules,” Kol complained.

“His carvemanship isn’t even that good,” Rebekah critiqued. “His M’s look like H’s. I mean what exactly does ‘Will you Harry He?’ actually mean?”

Caroline meanwhile was still in shock. In fact, she’d blocked out any of their ridiculous remarks as soon as the jack ‘o’ lanterns were unveiled, his especially.

“I think it’s time you all left.” Klaus ordered, breaking Caroline from her trance. “Except Caroline, of course.”

“But the winner hasn’t been announced yet,” Rebekah said, glaring at Caroline and no doubt trying to preempt the result.

“Because that’s the most important thing right now,” Elijah murmured. “Okay, let’s leave these two alone.” They went, albeit begrudgingly, but Caroline knew they’d be back as soon as possible.

That only left the possible fiancés in their wake.

“I know you have high standards, love, but I was hoping you might like my offering?” Klaus asked, closing the distance between them.

Caroline, meanwhile, was still stuck to the spot. She could hear him talking but her focus was still very much trained on the jack-o-lantern proposal she wasn’t expecting.

At all.

“You carved me a proposal?” She squeaked, finally finding her voice.

“I know how much you love the holidays and I thought it might be a good time to ask you to spend all eternity with me. I can’t promise that my siblings won’t show up from time to time to ruin things though. Tonight is case in point.”

“You carved me a proposal?”

“Well, yes, and I also got you one of these,” he offered, kneeling down in front of her and flashing an impressive, princess cut, diamond ring. “If you’ll have me, of course?”

For being the most powerful creature on earth, he was certainly looking extremely vulnerable at that very moment. Caroline still couldn’t find the words even if she knew what her answer was given it was a no-brainer.

Her silence was no doubt making him more nervous because he continued.

“You are the love of my life, Caroline Forbes. For someone who has been on this earth for, uh a while, you have taught me more in the past few years than I ever imagined. You constantly challenge me and make me want to be a better hybrid, well for the most part.”

Caroline was struggling to hide her smile now. Who knew the Original Hybrid had it in him?

“Not only that, your passion for life, including the holidays, is contagious and I love the fact you’ve introduced my family to all new traditions. We didn’t have the best upbringing and it means so much that you can give us another chance to really live and experience things. Well, if you’ll agree to marry me?”

Now the tears welling in her eyes were well and truly free, spilling down her cheeks. She knew she loved him, she knew what her answer was minutes earlier but now it was going to get messy.

“You carved me a proposal,” she sobbed.

“As you’ve mentioned before, and here I thought you’d like it,” he murmured, his discomfort obvious and not just because he was still kneeling on the floor.

“I do, I love it,” she whimpered. “I love you and especially since you proposed on a holiday. And you can carve a pumpkin, no matter what Rebekah says.”

“I heard that,” Rebekah scowled. Clearly they hadn’t gone far.

“So any chance you want to answer my question this century, love?”

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you,” she rambled. “I couldn’t imagine my life without you and your crazy relatives.”

“We heard that,” Kol shared from the shadows.

He placed the ring on her finger and pulled her into his arms. Caroline revelled in his embrace, thinking life couldn’t get any better than this. And all on a holiday which made things so much better.

Before they could really celebrate, his family converged on them. Yes, there was some minimal celebration but suddenly they were all standing by their jack ‘o’ lanterns in anticipation.

“There is no way that is happening tonight,” Klaus chided. “We have big plans that don’t involve any of you.”

“Oh come on, Klaus. I did promise,” Caroline offered.

“I don’t care,” he rebutted, picking her up and carrying her over his shoulder. Caroline was so swept up in the moment that she didn’t even call him out on his petulant behaviour. But she also knew what was waiting for her upstairs and couldn’t exactly complain.

Turns out Elijah won the competition and the sought after trophy. But Klaus, Kol and Rebekah swore vengeance for Thanksgiving.

And they were all looking forward to it for the first time in their lives.

#klaroline fall bingo #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #soooo fluffy but hope you like it #everyone's a winner

69 notes · View notes

snowwhite-andtheknight · 4 years

Text

And that wraps up Obiyukiweek 2020! Despite this year’s notorious reputation for disaster, this ended up being our best Obiyukiweek ever, with 76 works total as of posting: 43 fics, 24 art pieces, 8 edits, and 1 meta post! Thank you everyone who participated, and also a big thanks to the creators who didn’t give up and managed to post during the bonus week! We literally could not do this without all of you.

Although this ship week has come to an end, stay tuned! Tonight we will be teasing our brand-new winter challenge, and we’ll need your help to set it up!

Works By Day

[Works by Creator under the cut]

@bubblesthemonsterartist

I Should’ve Met You Yesterday, Chapter 8

I Should’ve Met You Yesterday, Chapter 9

Neither the Wolf Nor the Mountain, Chapter 9

Noble Lines, Chapter 8

Seraglio (9.24.2020)

Stumptown, Chapter 7

The Things I Couldn’t Say: Seiran Estates, Chapter 4

@claudeng80

An Earthly Knight, Chapter 4: Quest

Information Gathering in the Diagnostic Process

Plumage, Part 2: Down Feather

Plumage, Chapter 3: Contour Feather

Plumage, Chapter 4: Flight Feather

The Prince, the Aide, and the Fire-Haired Maiden

Succession

@fade-touched-obsidian

Wherever you wish to go, I will carry you

@glitterberry

Aren’t you suspicious of me?

Courtesy

Fair Play

Nobility

Only if you want me to

Please, Take My Hand

Wherever I am, wherever I end up going

@kaedix

In love with the monster (under my bed)

@kamuiins

I could ever be hurt any more than this

@kitsunefire7

Do your best, Little Ryuu!

Go easy on my heart

Ladyhawke

Maleficent

A Romantic ride~

This Witch Is Mine

With you?

@mrs_ncl

Silver Lining, Chapter 1

Silver Lining, Chapter 2

Silver Lining, Chapter 3

Silver Lining, Chapter 4

Silver Lining, Chapter 5

Silver Lining, Chapter 6

Silver Lining, Chapter 7

@obiyuki-beebs

panel counting

@onedivinemisfit

Don’t peek [NSFW]

Fly on the Wings of Love~~

For we were young and sure to have our way

A Night to Remember

Trust is the truest form of loyalty

Vette

What If we stopped playing by Zen’s rules?

@ruleofexception

Sword & Bauble, Chapter 1: You cannot possess me, for I belong to myself

Sword & Bauble, Chapter 2: Yet, while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give

Sword & Bauble, Chapter 3: I promise to you that it will be your eyes into which I smile every morning

Sword & Bauble, Chapter 4: I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine

Sword & Bauble, Chapter 5: I delight in the love of you; my friend, my equal, my love

Sword & Bauble, Chapter 6: I promise to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care

Sword & Bauble, Chapter 7: With all that I am and all that I ever will be, I love you

@sabraeal

All That Remains, Chapter 6

Desert & Reward, Chapter 9

Family Duty Honor, Part 3 [NSFW]

Get Up Eight, Chapter 6

The Lone Wolf Survives, Chapter 2

Rarely Pure & Never Simple, Chapter 7 [NSFW]

Seven Swipes for Shirayuki, Chapter 2

@sctwilightvampwolfgal

A Little More Than Loyalty

A Little Restraint

My Vow (For You)

Only A Few

Sweeter Than a Dream Could Possibly Be

What Towers, Falls

Within The Ordinary

@traditional-with-a-twist

No matter how many times I’m reborn in this vast universe

You don’t know if it’s a lie. What if it’s true?

@vai-vain

Courtesy

Fair Play

Honor

Loyalty

Nobility

Valor

You promise me to live on

#obiyukiweek20 #obiyuki #Obi x Shirayuki #Akagami no Shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #round up #masterpost

30 notes · View notes

a-l-o-ra · 4 years

Text

cozy warm crunchy happy

Nostalgia is a feeling I’ve grappled with most of my adult life, often met with varying degrees of resistance from people who think I’m latched onto the past too much.

Nostalgia is, after all, purely emotion-based – there’s almost no objectivity to it. All those rosy memories of your past were of course actual events at one point, but over time, they’ve been slathered with the sweet honey that are feel-good chemicals and a hazy yearning for being able to return to those moments in your life.

For me, nostalgia has certain triggers. Smell is a big one – if I get a whiff of citronella, all of a sudden I’m mentally transported to toasty New England summers in the ‘90s, sitting on the back porch as the sun goes down, chomping on an ear of corn and a grilled hamburger. If I close my eyes, I can hear the crickets, the creak of the wood under my feet, the unpadded slapping of the screen door as people come in and out. That was an event at one point in my life that I thought nothing of. But now, it’s fantasy, a realm I go to in my head where time is immemorial, my childhood pup Zoe is alive, the world felt infinite, and nothing would ever change. Then I snap back, and it almost feels like I’m flashing forward through each step I’ve taken in my life, the long path that brought me to the current moment, somehow, as the person I am right that second, oddly begging me to fight the notion that we’re just a jigsaw puzzle of experiences added onto one after another until we form the person we are. I want to think it’s more complicated or meaningful than that, as if we’re meant for grandeur or we can decide one day to be someone new, but our lives are always just a collection of everything we’ve done.

In Massachusetts, those toasty summers eventually gave way to the crisp autumn months, also with their own load of tactile realities. Crinkly autumn leaves have a certain feel to them – if you’ve never experienced it, imagine a thinner tin foil that breaks apart in your hand. If you walked into a forest, or even just a thicket of trees, when the wind kicks up, you hear one of the most peaceful sounds on earth. The wind cuts through the trees, moving entire branches full of leaves through the air, stirring up a soothing white noise whoosh as orange and yellow and red and brown dances all around you, delicately floating to the loamy surface.

Unsurprisingly, sound is the other big trigger for me, and as a music critic, there’s no stronger marriage than songs and nostalgia. Certain songs, from the moment they start, take me back. The phenomenal thing with music is that it doesn’t have to be some far-away memory for a song to be nostalgic; even events as early as a couple months can feel nostalgic to me if I listen to a song I was listening to frequently during that period.

All that in mind, a convergence of nostalgic yearning, wanderlust spirit, and photographic curiosity led me from western New York state into Ontario during the peak fall foliage in 2019. During this trip, I dredged up long-faded memories and experiences I had locked away since I left Massachusetts for Florida as a child (Florida, for reference, doesn’t have seasons). As I ate apples bought from a family farm (best I’ve ever had, by the way), picked out a pumpkin, drove with the windows down as cool air rushed around me, stepped on crunchy leaves, drank hot cider, and lots more, Turnover’s “Cutting My Fingers Off” was on regular rotation.

Certain songs (all great songs, I’d probably argue) have mood inextricably linked to them. It’s what makes The Who’s “Baba O’Riley” so anthemic, it’s what gives “Can’t Help Falling In Love” that crushing romantic feel, etc. In that regard, “Cutting My Fingers Off” is intrinsically an autumn song. The reverb, the twinkly guitar leads, and the hollow vocal filter make you feel like you should be swaying on an old hammock in a forest in mid-afternoon. Or does it?

Music's most powerful effect on the mind is how it alters your perception of what's in front of you and guides your feelings depending on how it's written. Even simple instrumental composition can be narrative - it's the reason, in reviewing music, you often see phrases such as "summer soundtrack" or "windows-rolled-down music."

Even with music, in the past, especially when traveling, I've struggled with letting go, a side effect of years of anxiety. It used to be difficult to be "present" in a situation and not be pre-occupied with the future, or if I was content in that current situation, or if I had somewhere to be, or if I was running late to something, or any other endless amount of distractions. However, on this trip, while connecting with pieces of my past, letting go was noticeably easier, and a lot of my regular music rotation helped me stay present.

The world mostly still feels infinite for me, even as I discover more and more pieces of it for myself. This trip in particular, though, felt like a journey into the unknown. For most of the trip, I was completely alone - alone watching the sunset on Lake Erie, alone on the trails near Buffalo, alone while hugging the Niagara river trails, even alone as I crossed into Canada and had to tell a perplexed border guard I was alone, going to Toronto alone. It's easy to think solitude like this is lonely, but I felt zen, finally taking things at my own pace.

As I drove the seaway along Lake Erie into Buffalo, as I journeyed around rural western New York, as I watched Ontario's scenery glide by going from park to park, as I let the cool crisp air soak in like I did when I was a child, Turnover set the mood. It kept me in the present, made me aware of the beauty and grandeur and simplicity of everything around me. The song has an atypical structure, with no real chorus, but it builds from a quiet little intro into an eventual emotional crescendo.

And every dream I've ever had's been of a better view and a ten month summer.

Losing you was like cutting my fingers off.

And even with that summer, without you I'd rather cut my fingers off.

It's a sad song of loss, unrelated to anything going on in my life at that point, but it triggers this rush of feeling that just relates to the environment. It's a little bit of magic, because how I'm describing it is subjective, but it's also indescribable. If you're a dedicated music fan, you probably know the effect I'm talking about, but in my five or so years of writing about music, I can't actually truly describe or explain this phenomenon.

"Songs feel like certain environments or seasons or moods." I mean, that's it, but it also isn't. "Cutting My Fingers Off": autumn leaves, quiet countryside drives, chilly evenings, fire pits at night with friends, reflecting on the year, preparing for winter, harvest festivals. It doesn't make any sense, yet for me, it feels right.

In Boyne Valley Provincial Park, about an hour and a half from Toronto, halfway through my lonely week in Canada, I parked on the side of the highway and ventured into the woods, through grassy plains, and up a hill overlooking the area. Rich red, orange, and yellow tree tops towered in clusters between the overgrown plains. The wind tossed my hair around and it was a little physically exhausting getting up there, but it was one of those moments where everything felt right, where all the pieces in your life that have converged to make you who you are make perfect sense. I yearned to capture this moment and put it in a bottle so maybe I could take it home and open it sometimes when I wanted to feel it again. The world once again felt infinite, and also beautiful. When I got back to my car, I could barely wait to throw on some music to set the mood, and before I knew it, there it was - losing you was like cutting my fingers off. It's a warm blanket.

#autumn #fall #canada #nostalgia

4 notes · View notes

zen3to5 · 5 years

Text

J/H 3-22: Eric’s Drunken Tattoo

Another episode, another all-new "B" story, this time following up on the new material from the last ep and pushing the Zen along.

(NOTE: While I said from the outset that I wasn't out to "correct" anything in the show as it is, I did decide here that, in this rewrite, the show stays in 1977 until somewhere in Season 5. It doesn't really make anything about T7S's timeline make more sense, but it does at least correspond to when junior/sophomore year for the gang should've ended and senior/junior year begun.)

FF.Net AO3

---

SHOW TITLE INT. DONNA’S ROOM - DAY The afternoon sun shines in through the window. DONNA lies across her bed, writing in her JOURNAL. “Freak Out” by Chic plays on the radio. The door opens, and ERIC enters. Eric: Hi. DONNA: Hey. ERIC: Whatcha doing? Donna sits up. DONNA: Oh, just writing in my journal. ERIC: Like in Star Trek? He jumps onto the bed and holds his hand up to his mouth as though it were a microphone. ERIC (cont’d): (doing Shatner) “Captain’s log – star date 1977. God, I’m so hot. My beautiful red hair and giant jugs seem to drive all life forms wild.” DONNA: Oh, my God, Eric. That’s exactly what I was writing. Eric pulls a wowed face. Donna laughs and stands, setting her journal down on her writing desk. DONNA (cont’d): I’m gonna go make some popcorn and get some sodas. She moves toward the door. Eric watches her, still miming his microphone. ERIC: (doing Shatner) “My beautifully sculpted hindquarters flounce downstairs to procure nourishment.” DONNA: Shut up. ERIC: (doing Shatner) “Okay.” Donna exits. Eric stays on the bed and looks around the room. His eyes pass over Donna’s journal. MYSTERIOUS VOICE (v.o.): Eric... Eric... Eric looks down at Donna’s journal. It’s clear now that the voice is his own imagination at work. ERIC: Yes, Donna’s journal? JOURNAL (v.o.): I am the book of secrets, Eric. Don’t you want to know what she really thinks about you? Read me... read me... ERIC: You know, I really shouldn’t. JOURNAL (v.o.): Suit yourself. The voice of the journal sings nonsense lyrics innocently. Eric considers for a second, then climbs off the bed and steps toward the writing desk. JOURNAL (v.o., cont’d): But beware: what you learn here cannot be unlearned. ERIC: Okay, do you want me to read you or not? JOURNAL (v.o.): Sorry. Eric picks up the journal and opens it. We hear Donna’s voice reciting each passage that Eric reads. DONNA (v.o.): Eric and I went to second base tonight. He was hilarious... The prom is gonna be magical. I think tonight I’m finally gonna sleep with Eric... Which is like Woodstock, but for vans. Anyway, I think I’m finally gonna sleep with Eric... I love him so much. Tonight, I’m finally gonna sleep with Eric... ERIC: Okay, let’s just skip to the last page... He flips ahead. DONNA (v.o.): I had the weirdest dream about Eric last night. He was Eric, but he was also Steven Tyler from Aerosmith, and he looked really wicked and dangerous... Eric looks up from the journal, very pleased. ERIC: Yeah! “Wicked dangerous!” He looks back down to continue reading. DONNA (v.o.): Which is so not Eric. Sometimes I wish he were like that. All the pride in Eric’s face falls away. Footsteps sound off-screen. JOURNAL (v.o.): Quick! Put me down! Someone’s coming! Eric sets the journal back down just as Donna returns with Jiffy Pop and two soda bottles. Eric snaps upright in attention. ERIC: Hi! Hello. How are you? I didn’t do anything. You look pretty. Donna looks around, confused. Eric takes one of the sodas from her hand and takes a big gulp. ERIC (cont’d): (burps) I have to go now. He hurries past her and out the door. Donna looks from the doorway to her journal and back. Her eyes narrow.

MAIN CREDITS BUMPER INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY It’s almost a normal afternoon in the basement; HYDE’s there. But instead of sitting in his chair, he lies face-down on the couch, his head buried under his arm. Soda cans and chip bags litter the floor nearby. He snores softly, deep in sleep. JACKIE sits in Hyde’s chair and watches him with a long face. KELSO paces up and down behind the couch. FEZ sits in the lawn chair, reading a comic. He has on a ridiculous pair of X-RAY GLASSES. KELSO: All right. No one’s gonna say it, I’ll say it. (to Fez) Fez, what is with the glasses? FEZ: (looks up) Well, the ad in the Richie Rich comic said they would let me see through a lady’s clothes. (beat) I have been swindled again. Jackie shakes her head, but not at their stupidity. JACKIE: Poor Steven. Abandoned again. See, this is why Daddy doesn’t believe in giving money to poor people. Because they don’t know how to handle it, and then stuff like this happens. Kelso nods sagely, while Fez turns back to his comic. JACKIE (cont’d): I wish there was something we could do for him. Kelso thinks for a second, then snaps his fingers. KELSO: I got it. We need some whipped cream and a feather. We put the whipped cream on Hyde’s hands, and tickle his nose with the feather, so when he goes to scratch it, he gets a face full of whipped cream. He and Fez giggle silently. JACKIE: How would that make Steven feel better? KELSO: (beat) Well, he’ll have fun beating Fez up if we tell him he did it. Fez glares up at Kelso, incredulous. Jackie shakes her head and stands, crossing to Kelso. JACKIE: No, Michael. Look, this is a horrible thing Steven’s going through. We should... we should get him a present or something, to cheer him up. Something thoughtful and personal. And I know just where to find it. Let’s get down to the mall! She hurries out the door, Kelso in tow. He pulls the door shut hard behind him, which wakes Hyde up. His sunglasses are missing. He looks around, sees Fez looking at him with the X-Ray glasses. HYDE: Get a good look there, Richie? Fez slowly sinks down in his chair and raises his comic up to cover the glasses. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY Also an almost normal afternoon. KITTY works on a salad bowl on the stovetop. RED enters through the patio door, holding his right thumb. RED: Kitty, where’s the Band-Aids? I cut my thumb with a hacksaw. Kitty tuts and retrieves a Band-Aid from a cabinet drawer. KITTY: Oh, Red, you know those things are dangerous. RED: Well, I tried cutting the metal pipe with a flower, but it was real slow going. Kitty frowns at him and starts applying the Band-Aid. KITTY: Well, seeing as how you’re being all snarky anyway, I may as well tell you: Pastor Dave is coming to dinner tonight. Red moans and pulls away. RED: Not tonight! There’s a Packer report on tonight. They’re doing a tribute to Vince Lombardi. KITTY: Red, you know I’m trying to get more involved in the church, so he is coming. RED: Kitty, if Pastor Dave comes over, we’ll never get rid of him. He’ll just go on and on about how great God is. Kitty gives him a long look. KITTY: Well, He is. What can Red say to that? He sighs and shakes his head. CUT TO: INT. MALL - DAY The Point Place mall, not terribly busy for a Saturday. Jackie and Donna stroll through the courtyard side by side. DONNA: And then he says “I have to go now” and runs off with that guilty look he gets whenever he does something stupid. I’m telling you, Jackie, I think Eric read my private journal. JACKIE: Oh... is this about the dream where you wished Eric was Steven Tyler? Donna glares at Jackie. She looks back, not seeing the problem. Donna pinches her arm, hard. Jackie shrieks and slaps Donna’s hand down. JACKIE: Don’t pinch me, you lumberjack! Kelso runs up to them, his arms full of hair products. KELSO: Check it out! The salon’s having a sale on everything. Look at this! Shampoo, conditioner – they’ve even got the Remington Mist-Air Hot Comb! He holds up the comb box. Jackie beams and claps. JACKIE: Oh, my God, Michael, that’s perfect! Steven would look fabulous with straight hair. KELSO: (beat) Right! Hyde’s present... He chuckles nervously, then cradles his collection of items more tightly, as if loathe to part with them. Donna shakes her head and leans over Jackie’s shoulder. DONNA: You do remember you’re here for Hyde, right? I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna use a hot comb. As a matter of fact, I’m not sure he uses a comb. Or shampoo. Jackie looks disgusted and shudders. JACKIE: Eww! CUT TO: INT. FORMAN DINING ROOM – EVENING Kitty got her way: PASTOR DAVE is over for dinner. He sits between the Formans as they all work on their salad. DAVE: Hey, do you know who I love? RED: Jesus. DAVE: (beat) Well, yes. But I was going to say Vince Lombardi. Red looks up. RED: You’re a Packer man? DAVE: Are you kidding? I bleed cheese. Red grins. Suddenly, he’s enjoying this dinner. RED: Well, I’m not sure, but I think there may be a Packer report on tonight. DAVE: Red, I think you may be right. And I think it could start in eight-and-a-half minutes. RED: Then what do you say we choke our dinners down, get our asses on the couch? DAVE: Amen! They go to work on the salads. Kitty, not amused, stands. KITTY: Red, can you help me in the kitchen, please? He doesn’t get up. KITTY (cont’d): Right now, please? She goes into the kitchen. Red follows, patting Dave on the back as he passes into: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – EVENING Kitty is at the stovetop, spooning the main course onto plates. Red hurries over to her. KITTY: Red, this night is not about football. This night is about company. RED: And our company wants to watch the Packer report. He spends his life doing the Lord’s work, and if you would deny this holy little man that simple pleasure... well, God have mercy on your soul. KITTY: Just can it, Red. She pushes a plate into Red’s hands. KITTY (cont’d): Bring him his food. Red takes the plate and hurries back to the: INT. FORMAN DINING ROOM – EVENING Red drops the plate in front of Dave and takes the salad plate. RED: You got six minutes. DAVE: (mouth full) I’m eating. Red returns to: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – EVENING Red brings Kitty the empty salad plate. She looks down and notices his thumb is bare. KITTY: Red, where is your Band-Aid? RED: Oh, I don’t know. I had it on a second ago. Must’ve come off while I was serving the - It hits him and Kitty at the same time. They share a look of shock, then race back into: INT. FORMAN DINING ROOM – EVENING Pastor Dave is scarfing down dinner as fast as he can. By the time Red and Kitty reach him, it’s too late; he finishes his last bite and throws his hands up in the touchdown signal. DAVE: Done! Red and Kitty shift on their feet, neither prepared to say anything. BUMPER INT. LEO’S HOUSE – EVENING A modestly-sized apartment, somewhat shabby but tastefully decorated in a Japanese style. “Werewolves of London” by Warren Zevon plays on the radio. Hyde (sunglasses back), LEO, Eric, and Fez (still wearing his X-Ray glasses) all sit around a low table. LEO has a sake set laid out. ERIC: Hey, Leo, thanks for letting us hang out here. I just – I didn’t want to see Donna after what she wrote. HYDE: Forman, no one cares. LEO: (to Eric) That’s true, man. (to everyone) Listen, you guys know I don’t allow alcohol in my house, so you’re just gonna have to drink sake instead. The guys look amongst themselves; they all know the score on sake. FEZ: “Sake” it to me, Leo. (laughs) HYDE: Don’t start with the sake jokes, Fez. FEZ: Oh, put a “sake” in it. (laughs) Leo pours and passes out the cups. Eric takes his and holds it near his mouth. ERIC: Well, this would be fun if I wasn’t so miserable. HYDE: Look, Forman, we’re willing to sit here and drink these tiny, allegedly alcoholic drinks, but we don’t wanna hear you bitch about Donna all night. ERIC: Oh, don’t worry, Hyde. I don’t feel like talking about Donna. He downs his sake and sets the glass upside down on the table. CUT TO: Moments later. Eric has a pyramid of cups stacked, and he’s well into drunk. ERIC: You see, the thing about Donna is... HYDE: Here we go. ERIC: She acts like everything’s all cool, okay? And then, all of a sudden I’m no Steven Tyler. (scoffs) FEZ: Oh, Eric, give it up, for heaven’s “sake.” He laughs at his own pun again, and this time Leo joins in. LEO: (to Fez) You’re still the king, man. ERIC: Man, I thought were past the phase where we had to impress each other. HYDE: You are. Now you’re in the “she dumps you for a biker with a wicked tattoo” phase. The most entertaining of all phases. Eric stands, almost gracefully. ERIC: Oh, my God... oh, my God, Hyde, that’s it! A tattoo’s dangerous! There’s a place next to the liquor store. I could go get one right now! Leo stands, and we cut to: ERIC’S POV. Sake has him seeing three of Leo, overlapping and waving against the wall, and each of them talk. LEO: No way, man! We’re not gonna let you go to some sleazy tattoo parlor and spend money for something you’ll regret for the rest of your life. I’ll tattoo you for free, man. I’m pretty sure I used to do this for a living. FADE TO BLACK COMMERCIAL BUMPER INT. LEO’S HOUSE – EVENING A short time later. Eric, still drunk, leans on a cabinet, his pants pulled down. Hyde and Fez hold his hands while Leo sits on a stool in the back, working on a tattoo on Eric’s ass. ERIC: How cool am I? A tattoo of my girlfriend’s name – how’s that for dangerous? LEO: Yeah, I think Debbie’s really gonna like this. ERIC: (beat) Wait. Debbie? No, Donna. LEO: (beat) Right. Okay, no problem. I can fix it. ERIC: Fix what? LEO: Relax. Debbie will never notice it. Eric looks back toward Leo. ERIC: It’s Donna. LEO: See, now you moved, man! It’s okay. I can make that into a flower. He goes back to work, and Eric looks forward, much less sure about this. FEZ: (to Eric) Oh, you know what you should get? Boobs. Big boobs on your butt. HYDE: That’s classy. LEO: Hey, I can turn the “Bs” into boobs. ERIC: (beat) Wait, what “Bs?” LEO: Like in “Debbie,” your girlfriend? ERIC: It’s “Donna!” LEO: Oh, right. (beat) Oh, I can fix that. CUT TO: INT. MALL - EVENING The shopping continues. A promotional table for WFPP is set up against the wall, a phone and microphone set up. Donna chats with the ATTENDANT while Jackie looks around at the different stores. DONNA: (to attendant) So has the call-in contest started yet? ATTENDANT: No, but we start taking calls any minute. Hey, did you ask Max about tickets for you and your boyfriend? DONNA: No, he said he needed me to work that night. And I think Eric read my journal, so not getting him in to see Zeppelin seems like a good punishment. The attendant shrugs and nods. Something in a shop window catches Jackie’s eye, and she tugs on Donna’s sleeve as she points with the other hand. JACKIE: Donna, look! Baby blue bell bottoms. See, if Steven wore things like that, no one would know he was poor. Donna smiles in pity. DONNA: Yeah, um... no. Jackie groans and stomps her foot. JACKIE: Donna, you haven’t liked any of my ideas. The mall’s closing soon and we haven’t found anything for Steven. DONNA: Look, Jackie, it’s nice that you want to do something for Hyde, but shopping is not that thing. Hyde doesn’t care about bell bottoms or leisure suits or hair, and I’m pretty sure the only thing he’d do with a Pet Rock is break a window with it. Jackie sighs and throws up her hands. JACKIE: Steven’s just so complicated. I’ve never had this much trouble finding a gift for Michael. Kelso runs up to them. His hair care products from before are stuffed in a large salon bag worn on one arm, a white sport jacket is draped over the other, two clothing boxes are balanced between both arms, and the box for Sorry! is balanced on top. He’s grinning ear to ear. KELSO: Is everything in this mall on sale or what? This is awesome! Donna shakes her head and Jackie scowls at Kelso. JACKIE: Michael, you’re supposed to be helping us find something to cheer Steven up. KELSO: Jackie, Hyde’s not a “cheer up” kind of guy. That’s not how he gets over stuff. He gets over stuff by punching people, rockin’ out to bitchin’ tunes, and dipping into his stash. DONNA: Wow, Kelso, that was actually pretty insightful. KELSO: Yeah, well... (beat, to Jackie) I can still get all this stuff, right? I mean, just ‘cause we didn’t find anything for Hyde, that’s no reason to waste all these sweet deals. Donna puts a hand to her forehead. Jackie steps up to the radio table and starts chatting with the attendant as we fade to: INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – EVENING Now it’s Red turn to have his way: he, Kitty, and Dave are on the couch, the Packer report playing on TV. Kitty is clearly unhappy. Not that the men notice; Red has a diagram worked out on the coffee table with peanuts. RED: And then Bart Starr fakes a hand-off to Anderson and finds Dowler in the endzone for the winning touchdown! DAVE: Wow! On TV it seemed confusing, but with peanuts, it’s all so clear! Kitty taps Red on the arm. KITTY: Red, um, can I see you in the kitchen for a minute, please? RED: Yeah, just one second. He and Kitty stand. Red pats Dave on the back. RED (cont’d): You go ahead and set ‘em up again, and I’ll show you how the Packers won the Ice Bowl. DAVE: All right! He eagerly starts rearranging the peanuts as Red and Kitty step into: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – EVENING Red and Kitty stand by the stove. Red looks happy; Kitty is decidedly not. KITTY: Okay, Red, don’t you think it’s time your little friend went home? RED: Kitty, I’m just being sociable, like you asked. Just being a good host. KITTY: Oh, sure. All good hosts feed their guests Band-Aids. RED: Band-Aid, Kitty. Don’t exaggerate. From the living room, Dave lets out a pained moan. Red and Kitty move back into: INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – EVENING Dave is curled up on the couch in a fetal position, clutching at his stomach as he moans. Kitty’s jaw drops as she looks up at Red. KITTY: Oh, my God! Dave looks up piteously at his hosts. DAVE: Hospital, please. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - NIGHT Much later, probably near 2 or 3 in the morning. Hyde is in his chair, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he sleeps. Eric is also asleep, on the couch. He has no pants, and his shorts are pulled down just enough for the ice pack on his ass to cover his tattoo. We slowly zoom in on his face as we cut to: INT. DONNA’S ROOM – DAY DREAM SEQUENCE. Donna lies on her bed, writing away in her journal. She pauses and chews her pen in thought. Her door is kicked open. With a burst of smoke, Eric dances into the room as Steven Tyler, with a microphone at the ready. ERIC (lip-sync): Walk this way! Walk this way! Walk this way! Walk this way! Just give me a kiss... He performs some of Tyler’s finest moves as he sings. On “give me a kiss,” he leans in close to Donna, only to pull back just before their lips meet. ERIC (lip-sync): Like this! He wraps up his routine with a burst of pyrotechnics. Donna leaps off the bed and starts making out with him. She pulls back, breathless, and looks him over hungrily. DONNA: Eric, how did you get so hot? ERIC: (proudly) I got a tattoo. Beaming, Donna rips out the last page of her journal and scribbles in a new entry. DONNA: “Eric’s perfect.” She looks back up at Eric as he makes Steven Tyler lips. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT Back to reality. Eric grins in his sleep. His eyes slowly open. ERIC: Oh, yeah. His smile slips, and he puts a hand to his head. ERIC (cont’d): Ow. He adjusts the ice pack on his ass. ERIC (cont’d): Ow. He looks down toward the ice pack and remembers why it’s there. The grin returns. ERIC (cont’d): Oh, yeah. He adjusts his arm under his head and drifts back to sleep. BUMPER INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY The next morning. Pastor Dave, looking the worse for wear, sits between an uncomfortable Red and Kitty at the kitchen table. DAVE: So, are you telling me that you fed me a Band-Aid? KITTY: Well... um, to be honest – Red fed you the Band-Aid. Dave looks to Red, who rolls his eyes. DAVE: How did this happen? KITTY: Red, why don’t you diagram it for him with peanuts? Red frowns at Kitty, then turns toward Dave. RED: Look, Dave, I’m real sorry. I didn’t realize how sick a Band-Aid would make you. DAVE: Well, thank you for your belated honesty, but the doctor said I had food poisoning from an undercooked sausage. RED: Food poisoning? That’s Kitty’s department. Dave looks to a stunned Kitty. KITTY: I have never undercooked a sausage in my life. I have a system. It’s foolproof. RED: Hey, Kitty – it’s okay. We all make mistakes. Kitty glares at both men. KITTY: I... Vince Lombardi is overrated. That’s right. He is overrated! Red and Dave recoil in horror. Red puts a bracing hand on Dave’s arm. RED: Ignore her. She’s hysterical! CUT TO: INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY Hyde is still in his chair, still asleep. He hasn’t moved since last night. Not until the door bursting open stirs him awake. A beaming Jackie hurries to stand over him. Her hand is clasped tight around a small, thin envelope. JACKIE: Good, Steven, you’re up! Your hair’s clean, right? Hyde gives her a funny look. Jackie shakes off any unpleasant thoughts of unwashed hair and presents the envelope. JACKIE (cont’d): Surprise! With a skeptical look, Hyde takes the envelope and starts to open it. HYDE: Jackie, if you’re trying to get me to roller disco again, you can just – HOLY HELL! Hyde leaps to his feet. Even through his sunglasses, his eyes bug out as he stares at the two slips from the envelope in his hand. HYDE (cont’d): Zeppelin? You scored Zeppelin tickets, center row, tonight? JACKIE: Yeah! Donna’s radio station was giving them away. They were supposed to go to the seventh caller or something, but I’m rich and cute, so they’re mine now! Hyde looks up at her, his eyes still wide. HYDE: And you’re just giving them to me? Jackie nods. Hyde looks down at the tickets, then back to her. HYDE: Jackie... I don’t know what to say, man. Why’d you do this? Jackie wrinkles her nose up; she’s confused by the question. JACKIE: For you. Steven, you don’t deserve what your parents did to you again. You’re a really great guy. (Hyde scoffs) Yes, you are! I know, okay? I mean, everything you’ve done for me, even when we didn’t get along – taking me to the prom, helping me stand up to Laurie, going to jail... HYDE: That reminds me, I think I slept past my probation meeting this week. JACKIE: And, when you and Donna told me I should take some time to be alone, I didn’t want you to be right. But I feel like I’ve really grown a lot with that time, and I was finally able to forgive Michael, which I wouldn’t have. So you were right. And that was a nice way to make sure I didn’t slip back into that crazy crush I had on you. Hyde’s face starts to slip. Jackie doesn’t notice. JACKIE (cont’d): Remember how I got so worked up, I really thought you were the one who felt something after that kiss? She giggles. Hyde gives a very small, guarded smile. JACKIE (cont’d): So I wanted to say “thank you,” for being such a good friend. And I wanted you to have something nice... something where no one got punched and you wouldn’t forget once you came down. HYDE: Jackie... He gives her a long look. There’s something he wants to say, but it won’t come. Jackie leans in, attentive. HYDE (cont’d): (beat) Thank you. Jackie holds her arms open. Hyde shrugs, lets her give him a big hug; he settles for wrapping one arm loose around her shoulders. When they break, he looks back down at the tickets. HYDE (cont’d): So, what time should we head out? JACKIE: Oh, no, Steven, I can’t go. Michael asked me to help him set up his new hot comb and... well, let’s just say after the last time he tried using one, I don’t think he should be left alone with it. HYDE: Then what do I do with the other ticket? Fez enters through the basement door, still wearing X-Ray glasses. Hyde lets out a long sigh and holds up the tickets. HYDE (cont’d): Fez, man, Zeppelin! You in? Fez beams and clasps his hands together. He hurries over to them. FEZ: Oh, Hyde, that would be wonderful. Just you and me – for old times’ “sake.” He and Jackie both laugh at the pun while Hyde frowns. CUT TO: INT. HALLWAY – DAY The upstairs hall of the Pinciotti house. Eric strolls confidently up to Donna’s door. He tries to kick it open, but instead pushes himself back against the far wall and falls flat on his ass, leaving a giant footprint on the door. Donna opens the door, sees Eric sprawled out. DONNA: Eric, what the hell? Did you just kick my door? ERIC: (beat) No. He stands, and they both enter: INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM - DAY Eric, regaining some of his mojo after the fall, loosens his belt. ERIC: But I got a surprise. I got a tattoo. Guess where? On my butt! DONNA: (beat) Why? ERIC: Why? Because I’m dangerous, lady! Donna frowns at Eric. She passes him and retrieves her journal from her bed, holding it between them. DONNA: Eric, I want you to be honest with me, and I promise I won’t get mad. Did you read my journal? ERIC: Um... yeah. DONNA: You sneaky little dillhole! She whacks him in the arm with her journal. Eric recoils and juts a finger out at her. ERIC: No! You know who’s sneaky? People who go around writing their feelings in their journals and not telling their boyfriends what they feel. So, you know what? I’m not sorry. (beat) I’m so sorry. DONNA: You want to know how I feel? Fine. I’ll tell you how I feel! She opens her journal and flips to the last page. DONNA (cont’d): (reading) “Today at lunch I was looking at Eric when he didn’t know it, and I just couldn’t believe how much I love him and how lucky I am to be with him.” (looks up) Why couldn’t you read that page? ERIC: Because you came back. (beat) Look, Donna – look, I’m really sorry, but... you know, it’s just sometimes I get worried, you know? DONNA: Well, you know what? Suck it up. She puts her journal away in her writing desk. DONNA (cont’d): Eric, these are my private thoughts, and I’m allowed to have them. You have to stop trying to be what you think I want you to be and just, like, be yourself. ERIC: Okay. I think I’m gonna go. He turns to leave. DONNA: Well, wait. Take off your pants. Eric’s eyes light up. ERIC: Really? All right! Donna laughs. DONNA: No. To show me your tattoo. ERIC: I knew that, yeah. I knew that. I think you’re really gonna like it. Just... don’t be mad if it says “Debbie.” Eric turns around, drops his pants, and lifts his shirt up to expose his ass. Donna takes a look and chokes down a laugh. DONNA: Woodstock. ERIC: It says “Woodstock?” DONNA: No, it’s a picture of Snoopy’s friend Woodstock. You have a little yellow bird on your ass! She finally cracks as Eric considers all the regrets now tied into this tattoo. FADE TO BLACK CREDITS INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT DREAM SEQUENCE. Donna and Jackie sit on the bed, rocking out, while the boys perform “Walk this Way” – Eric as Steven Tyler, Hyde as Joe Perry, Kelso as Tom Hamilton, Fez (still wearing the X-Ray glasses) as Brad Whitford, and Leo as Joey Kramer. Eric flirts with Donna as they perform, while Hyde and Kelso do the same with Jackie. ERIC (lip-sync): So I took a big chance at the high school dance With a missy who was ready to play Was it me she was foolin’? ‘Cause she knew what she was doin’ Taught me how to walk this way She told me to ERIC & HYDE (lip-sync): Walk this way! Walk this way! Walk this way! Walk this way! END.

#z's fics #that 70s show #zenmasters #jackie x hyde #zen3to5 #fan fiction #fan script

7 notes · View notes

coldalbion · 5 years

Link

I’ve reblogged this classic Ramsey Dukes essay before. It’s an important one, not just if you’re a pagan/polytheist/magical type, but also for understanding the idea that perception is more than 9 tenths of the law. Suspend your disbelief, read the whole thing at the link, and maybe, just maybe understand why so-called “Tricksters” are often important cultural figures.

“As a schoolboy I discovered Hodson's lovely book on The Kingdom of the Gods. Enjoying the luscious pictures of tree spirits and landscape gods, I wanted to share the fun, but never managed to see them. Through the sixties I sometimes experimented with various techniques for increasing sensitivity and developing auric vision, but with no notable success. I suppose I was always more or less consciously haunted by the danger of self deception: at what point do you begin to kid yourself, become uncritical? I was fleeing from the charlatan.

A Tree Nature Spirit as depicted in Hodson's 'The Kingdom of the Gods'.Around 1981 I rediscovered the book and, being in a desperate frame of mind, tried again. But, as with someone who has attained Zen, a tree remained obstinately a tree, however I squinted at it. Then one day I stood by my favourite hawthorn and thought as follows: "What a pity I cannot see trees' auras. If I could, I wonder what sort of aura this one would have? Hmm. I feel it ought to be a fairly vivid red, from crimson to scarlet, but shot through with a network of gold strands. Yes, that would suit it. Then what about that tree over there? Oh no, definitely yellowy green in wispy hanging folds."What was I doing? I was seeing auras, but not REALLY seeing them, only imagining them in the sort of way you might imagine how a bare room of a new house might look when it is furnished, how it would look after being decorated. How odd to think that this sort of pseudo-seeing was just the sort of deception that I had so long steered clear of, in my early attempts to REALLY see REAL auras. And yet an interior designer's whole income depends upon these 'unreal' imagined images. Just as the writers of those fake psychic books were people whose livelihood depended upon what they were doing: desperados more akin to Rico the Razor than to Professor Wiesenstein My new-found game flourished: every tree has a different aura, yet similar species have similar styles. I have resisted the temptation to try to test this discovery, to try to prove that I am not just responding to visual clues as to the type of tree, because it is a growing and delightful diversion. I no more want to dissect it than I want to dissect a pet kitten. I want to enjoy it. If another person describes the aura differently, it would not bother me, because I find this type of perception is more akin to the perception of character than of outer form. In the sense that two people might begin by describing a third person's personality in totally differing terms; yet when they collaborate they arrive at some sort of common description.tricksterIf you can catch the spirit of this approach, you will catch another glimpse of that charlatan. The approach is blatantly unscrupulous and amoral, the very stuff of deception, yet it is also paradoxically down to earth and elementary: you just do it, you don't stop to theorise about WHAT you are doing. Just like the trickster whose every action is suspect, but who so clearly knows his way around, and makes a living where others simply panic.I cannot claim that the gift has any practical use, but it was very refreshing to note how quickly it developed once I had got over the initial hurdle of accepting it on its own terms. ?This essay is developing a wave formation: a series of forward steps, between which I rush back to defend the rear. Here goes again. I will describe another of the forces that deflect one's mind in the vicinity of a black hole.You may have labelled me as an anti-rationalist. Labelling is another technique for handling the unfamiliar. It does not depend upon dismantling and rebuilding the unfamiliar, in the way of rationalisation, nor does it just allow it to slip away, like ignoring. It is more akin to casting a net to catch the unfamiliar, then leaving it hanging in the net on some corner of your structure. Unlike rationalisation, this does not destroy the original object; unlike ignoring it does not let it go free. It hangs suspended in its net and is no part of your structure, and it is left, because it is no longer a threat.So to label this essay as anti-rationalist, is to once more be deflected from the central mystery. I must cut myself out of this net.Far from being anti-rationalist, I sometimes feel that I am the one person left on earth who knows the real value of reason, of science, of the academic approach. It is a wonderful Sword of Banishment, yet so many seem to confuse it with a Cup of Plenty!The essential value of reason, or the scientific approach, is that it stops things happening. This is an utterly vital function in a world where most people would agree that too much is happening too fast. The remedy lies right under our noses, yet we create the problem by asking science to do the one thing it has never been able to do, that is to make things happen. As a result a million charlatans have stepped into science's shoes and we never give them their due. As was argued in Thundersqueak, it is ludicrous to describe the aeroplane as a wonder of science. The Wright brothers were not scientists, they were bicycle makers. On the day of their historic first flight they invited the American Scientific establishment to attend, and the Establishment quite rightly refused to waste time with cranks who were attempting the blatantly impossible. As a consequence, the plane flew. If only scientists had left Uri Geller alone.As someone who has worked in the aircraft industry, I can assure you that a plane flies despite science, not because of it. Yet I am not belittling science, merely seeing its true contribution. To be utterly precise, it is magic that makes the plane fly, and what science does is to STOP IT FROM CRASHING. Indeed the nearest approach made by strict scientific rigour into the "real" world, is via the safety industry.As reason is the great destroyer - in order to pull you clear of that dreaded Good-Bad whirlpool I will rephrase that remark - as reason is the excellent and much needed destroyer, we should direct it with the care it deserves.safaris What a pity that man's hunting instincts are driving impressive and exciting creatures like tigers into oblivion. If only the big-game hunters could redirect their urges into hair-raising safaris across the London skyline, in pursuit of starlings and pigeons. Then we would not only be able to keep our tigers; we could also suffer less bird shit.And what a pity that the scientist insists on chasing the paranormal to its doom, and the historian cannot redirect the urge to shatter myths. They do it too well. Our very own Ellic Howe has delighted us with his skill in stalking the OTO, to the point where there was only one place of safety left for it - namely non-existence.Such skills must not be wasted, for there is real work for the sword in this world. Several billion pounds are being spent on a cruise missile deterrent, might not some of that money go towards an undercover operation with the collaboration of the secret service? I suggest taking the psychologists out of the parascience field and dropping them behind the Iron Curtain in order to discover the value of Cruise. How deterred by it does your typical Russian military officer feel? Knowing how emotional Russians can be, I want figures of how many soldiers burst into tears, how many resigned from the army, how many committed suicide when Cruise was announced. There is much to do, for I also want some accurate quantitative index of deterrence: I want to know the exact deterrent-value of every million pounds spent. I want to know which is the greater deterrent to world war three: a multi-billion pound satellite warfare program, or a late, wet and rather cold spring in Moscow.

And Ellic, your talents are being wasted on an endangered species. The world is crying out for skills like yours, and a far greater challenge awaits you. Instead of chasing the OTO into oblivion, how about directing your attention towards the communist conspiracy within the Labour Party, or the National Front conspiracy behind the Tories? Or why not go for the Big One, and prove once and for all that the CIA is a myth? And please, can I have my OTO back? It was fun.I would like to be seen as reason's champion, not its detractor. Am I yet free of that net?I did warn that, in order to write about the Trickster, it might be necessary to assume his mantle: now the time has come to pack up my box of tricks. That would usually signify that a hasty retreat was in the offing: for when people return to reality at the end of his illusions, an angry reaction is liable to set in. But in this case it is the nature of illusion itself that is being studied, so I'll stick around.The trick that has been played on you is the old trick of presenting a world in black and white: the white light of Truth, of Good, of Hygiene, against the blackness of Illusion, of Bad, and of Fertility. The subject was far too tricky to be tackled without such a trick. But now we awake from the dream, this essay's wave-form accelerates to a frenzied rippling of light and dark, and all outlines are lost until they re-form in the world's true colours. What might almost have seemed clear at times, now passes through chaos.”

#ramsey dukes #the charlatan and magus #the old man

14 notes · View notes

msbeccieboo · 6 years

Text

Arrow 7x15 brain dump

Oh my gosh this episode was an absolute gift!! Especially after the news we got last week, this fluffy beast of an episode could not have come at a better time (for me, at least)! I’m not sure if part of the reason I enjoyed it so much was that we didn’t really see it coming? I thought it would be sort of a filler episode that we typically get around this point in a season, that the OTA snippets we saw in the trailer would be about it, but boy was I wrong hahaha!! I am still a mess! There is so much to unpack here, I can’t form fully cohesive thoughts still, and this is shaping up to be another whopper, sorry 😬😬😬….

Olicity

Fresh off the pregnancy reveal to Oliver from last week, our ship is still a-sailing!! The heart eyes are back, the eye contact full-stop is back, the supportiveness (”We’re a team, too” “Always”😭😭😭) , the united front. The little touches are getting there (we’re working up to that sex scene, I can feel it 🤞🤞🤞). Oliver even looks better in this episode!! Now, this could be the SCPD-issue tight t-shirt (it’s certainly not the hair), or just his more all-round peaceful demeanour that he seems to have achieved through baby/Felicity joy.

Source:plotbunnyshipper

Continued below the cut.

We got so much Olicity this week! Multiple times! Olicity, all the time! The first proper Olicity scene, has Oliver being all Zen-like over the SCPD set-up, meanwhile, Felicity already knows it’s gonna be a shit show. Our girl is a genius, what more needs to be said? Turns out Oliver is so gung-ho with the SCPD because he wants to do everything he can to make their city a safe place for “our baby” (complete with little adorable smile) HCOJIDNFJKDNVJBDBV!!! This scene also has Oliver offering to make food for our starving/nauseous pregnant Felicity (squeeeee) and a DOUBLE KISS!!!!

Source: oliverxfelicity

Then we got a scene with an increasingly-frustrated Oliver (the Zen didn’t last too long) over the aforementioned inevitable SCPD shit show. Where Felicity got to give a pep-talk resulting in this delightful exchange:

Source: oliverxfelicity

We got the eyes, the compliments, THE MINT CHIP!! Scenes out of fanfic have arrived people!! We see that Felicity has been busy getting the Arrow Cave back up and running, and we get some quality Green Arrow/Overwatch comms action too!!

Then, we get the absolute heart-warming/breaking scene at the end of the episode, which again the fandom could have written for us!! Felicity is adorably checking out her non-existent bump, asking Oliver if she’s showing, to which he wisely says no 😂 Then they talk about baby names!! Who would have thought this day would come??!?!! Oliver is adorable in offering up the name Mia, as many predicted, in tribute to Moira. I loved how Felicity had a far-away look in her eye, describing the name as “sweet and fiery” (well we got fiery, and a little bit of sweet haha). Oliver just made me weep in his earnestness and sincerity here; all he wants is to make his children’s lives better than his has been.

Source:olicitygifs

Then they lament how the children will “always have each other and they’ll always have us”. Well if that didn’t shoot me straight in the gut!! Because we have seen the future and 😭😭😭 *ugly sobbing ensues*.

Flash Forwards

These just keep getting better and better. I know they’re still a bit divisive, but I’m seeing more and more people squeeing along with the likes of me at them haha!! This week focused entirely on William and Mia (YAAAASSSS), and sees them at the Star City Bazaar doing a spot of Antique shopping, namely looking for a cassette player to play their “old tape from the 80s” 😂😂😂. Wow, way to make me feel ancient lol. Will being the naïve cupcake that he is, bungles the transaction leaving Mia to go and beat up the vendor. I loved seeing William hold her back, hilarious! SO MUCH OLIVER!! This is something Will tells her after, and it absolutely devastated me (and Mia, by the looks of her reaction) that she didn’t know the iconic “You have failed this city” line. How is this not a thing of legend in Star City??? The answer to that hurts me too much so I will skip over for now!

Source: oliverxfelicity

Anyway, thanks to William’s techy genius (“like, literally” 😍 he is such a mini Felicity), they manage to cause a distraction, allowing Mia to knock out the vendor and for William to get the tape player. That’s team work, guys! Bonus lolz to Will’s saccharine “thank you” as he walks off 😂 Back at Mia’s base they eventually decide to play Felicity’s tape (“What are you waiting for?” “I dunno, what are you waiting for?” I STAN THESE SIBLINGS SO HARD) And then here is where I died. Firstly, Will’s nerves at hearing Felicity’s voice after 20 years 😭, Mia’s reassurance that they will listen together, and then Felicity’s message itself.

Source:feilcityqueen

Felicity is alive bitches!! After a delightful Felicity-ramble, she apologies to them both for keeping them apart, stating that “We did it because we love you” WE!!! Present tense!!! Oliver lives too!!! This is my happy place and I am staying here for as.long.as.I.possibly.can.

She then directs them to give the team some coordinates then get the hell outta Star City. I loved how there was no deliberation at all from the siblings, “So we’re ignoring her?” “Definitely”. And they’re off to The Glades...duh duh duuuuuhhhhh!!!

OTA/Delicity

OTA is well and truly back this episode, following Dig’s apology last week. There wasn’t masses of Diggle in this episode, and that is one thing I would have liked to have seen from this episode, but to be fair we have been so well fed that I will not complain!!

They told dig!!!!!!

Dig can tell that there is something Olicity aren’t telling him, and the kind of bashful joy on Oliver’s face is just so beautiful and heart-warming!

Source:oliverxfelicity

Dig is so pleased for them!! I love Uncle Dig! And as always Uncy John has some sage advice for our OTP. He tells them that in order to clean up the city for their family, without sending Oliver back to the Big House, that they have to find another way. This is a motto that Arrow lives and dies by, but it felt all the more poignant here for some reason, maybe because OTA were finally coming back together? Maybe because we’re aware now that the team as we know it is soon going to drastically change? Maybe because the fracking show is ending soon HFDOVHUIERGBVSDVIFDVJDSHVODNVKODW!!! Anyway, I had feelings about this whole scene (cue Beccie in floods of tears, again). *whispers I would’ve really liked a hug here ok*

As if that beautiful OTA scene wasn’t fabulous enough, we got bonus Delicity!! I think this was so needed, given their particular distance so far this the season. Dig is still kissing arse a little bit (rightfully so), and not only offers felicity some sweets to help her morning sickness 😍 but offers her some reassurance that she’s got this. “You were absolutely amazing out there, your tech was phenomenal”. My Delicity heart is soaring!! He goes on to point out just how brilliant her security system is (extra kudos for Felicity shading Curtis lol), and that it could be the basis for something much bigger….Smoak Technologies anyone??

Source:felicitysmoakgifs

Team Arrow/SCPD storyline

The training montage at the start of the episode was everything!! Felicity’s in particular facial expressions were absolutely hilarious; the utter horror of not being able to hack, and using outdated computer systems were just delightful! Even Wild Dog got a quality quip in there about having their own uniforms.

I really wasn’t looking forward to this aspect of the episode, as I just find the whole SCPD angle annoying and ridiculous this season. Luckily, this episode was a means to an end, and finally addressed the problematic nature of mixing the Police with the Vigilantes in this way.

The SCPD didn’t seem to want to learn anything from Team Arrow. Where is the sense in having these people join the force if they aren’t going to provide some unique skills and training? And the first thing they do is strip them of their weapons and their suits (ahh, if only literally….*ahem*). They do have a point when it comes to gathering evidence legally, not using coercive ‘interview’ techniques and so on, but presumably, by some kind of TV magic, they were able to successfully convict plenty of criminals caught by Team Arrow previously…so what has changed?

The evil little Mayor keeps popping up this season, trying to undermine the Team. Oliver never seemed to have this much clout with the SCPD when he was Mayor Handsome. So why does Mayor Tiny spend so much time there? Clear off! Her interference, and the apparent loss of Dinah’s cry, leads to Dinah having a crisis of confidence, briefly picking the SCPD over the Team. Wild Dog gets all up in her face with a sense-making motivational speech, which he seems to be doing a lot of this season…who knew he had it in him?? Anyhow, Dinah eventually comes to terms with losing her cry, and decides to continue being the Black Canary. This plot point seemed superfluous to me. Sara nor Laurel had a meta-cry, and they turned out alright as Canaries…..wait….never mind. If only they had some friends with medical and meta-human expert knowledge and technology (looking at you Larry)?!?!

Anyway, I enjoyed the twist that Team Arrow had actually been working with the SCPD during the final mission scene, following Dig’s advice that they needed to become ‘something else’. DD blackmailed dirty Mayor tiny into giving Team Arrow free-rein under the SCPD umbrella still, and repealing the anti-vigilante law. Yay team Arrow!! No more SCPD storyline! All’s well that ends well!

Black Siren/Emiko

I think they took up an acceptably small portion of the episode, and it was just about enough for my liking. This reaffirmed that I only really care about BS when she’s in scenes with Felicity, but it was nice seeing her try to do the right thing with solving Diaz’s murder. As many predicted, Emiko killed Lizard Boy, as she is working for Dante. Even doing this didn’t endear me to Emiko any more I’m afraid. I just don’t care about her, sorry. The showdown between BS and Emiko has potential to be interesting, and could lead to conflict between BS/Felicity/Oliver/Emiko in coming episodes, but my babies don’t need any more conflict, just let them be pleeeaaaase!!

The surprise that no one saw coming (I didn’t see anyone call it; well done Boss Beth!), was the appearance of baby Bronze Tiger, Connor ‘Hawke’ Turner. Connor Hawke from the FFs is Bronze Tiger’s son, adopted by Dig and Lyla?!?!?! Fab idea, writers! This likely means that Ben Turner is going to die imminently, which is such a shame because he had so much potential in the prison arc!! I loved seeing him again in this episode!

Looking ahead

THAT TRAILER GUYS!!!!! MSDOI;’#GFHGSD;VNSD’K[GSDJVANVNFDK!!!!!!! I was not ready. None of us were ready it seems!!! We’re gonna see Mia’s birth this season!!!! Oliver will be there!! There’s a photo of Olicity and baby Mia!!!! AAAAAAAAAGHGHAGHAGHAGHA!!!

Source:olicitygifs

The Team is back!! But now we see this joint ‘black ops’ type scenario joining Team Arrow and the SCPD together, along with the repealing of the Anti-Vigilante law, the landscape isn’t tying in with the FFs. How do we get to the point where Vigilantes are utterly outlawed and hated by society, when they have done so much to help the city over the years? What changes? Is this why Oliver is ‘gone’? Why Felicity appears to have to give birth to Mia in some abandoned farmhouse somewhere? Where Mia has to be kept hidden? Where Mia and William can’t know of each other’s existence, or be spoken of in the same sentence (seriously….the TEARS!!)? Where Mia can’t even go by the name Queen for her own safety? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!! I think Emiko could be at the bottom of this somehow. She’s literally doing nothing else interesting.

Either Oliver and Felicity, or Rene and Dinah must be on the outs from the Team soon, to explain the latter’s unawareness of Mia. Could this be this why only Rene and Dinah have been set up in the FFs so far, because this is the only place we will see them next season? (Assuming they are coming back for S9).

I am so unbelievably excited for next week now. It’s gonna be dark, I know, but I’m hoping we get a decent amount of questions answered, and see Future Felicity and Diggle!! (I’d love to see future Oliver, but not holding out hope for that just yet). I was looking forward to the all-future episode anyway, as I’m living for Mia and William right now, but now??? Bring.it.on!

As always, huge thanks to the amazingly talented gif-makers in our fandom. Kisses and jazzy-hugs all round 😘😘😘🤗🤗🤗

#arrow #arrow 7x15 #arrow season 7 #Olicity #OTA #beccie's brain #long ass post

74 notes · View notes

maunderponder · 6 years

Text

My BooOOOOOK??

Laughter Lines recently got a ton of new love (AND IT WAS REC’D BY ONE OF MY FAVORITE ARTISTS??? AHHHHHH THANK YOU!!!) and I realized I really owe everyone an explanation for where I’ve been and why the story hasn’t been updated in so long.

While there have been a few medical reasons (had issues with a gallbladder and needed to have surgery earlier this year and now we have baby #2 on the way! Pregnancy is exhausting LOL), the biggest contributing factor is I WROTE A NOVEL!!! With finishing the first draft, editing, and now preparing to self-publish, the book has completely occupied all my writing time.

A young adult fantasy, the book is about a seventeen-year-old named Alvis who possesses a gift of inexplicable strength. Raised in the slums by his genius-mechanic father, Alvis wants to use his strength to help people, but his temper gets in him in trouble instead. Level-headed Rae is a half-dragon, half-human hybrid called a Guardian. A wanted criminal, Rae carries with him the trauma from his time as a gladiator, when he was forced to fight against (and kill) other Guardians for the entertainment of the wealthy. Despite their differences, Alvis and Rae can agree on one thing: they fight best when they’re fighting alone. But when faced with the corruption in their homeland, Zen, one thing becomes clear- they’ll have to keep each other alive if they want to survive.

It’s got magic, white-haired dragon boys, and a gay MC who has a thing for guys with biceps and strong jawlines, and is really bad at flirting with them. I wanted to share it today because I’ve gotten so much support for my Klance fic and thought it might be something of interest for those of you who enjoy my writing :)

The book will be released in summer of 2019. You can look at the indiegogo campaign here! I’ll also include a sample from Chapter 1 under the cut, and you can read the full first two chapters here!

I’m currently working on the next chapter of Laugher Lines in between writing book 2 of WtLDD. My goal is to have it up before VLD’s final season’s premier date (SOBBING) and then the final chapter up by Christmas, so keep a look out! :)

Alvis Witt was trouble.

He was almost always at the center of it, and when he wasn’t it was always close behind him. He was a dangerous boy. He would break your nose, perhaps your jaw, maybe even a few limbs for good measure, if you simply looked at him the wrong way. He grinned at the sight of blood, made deals with shady folks in dark alleys at night, and was once seen bullying a child to the point of tears.

At least, that’s what the gossiping old ladies in the neighborhood would have you believe.

Even though it was all complete bullshit.

(Okay, mostly complete bullshit.)

First of all, Alvis did not “grin” when he saw blood. In fact, it kinda made him gag sometimes, and it was annoying to get out of clothes.

Second, his dad would, without a single doubt, most definitely kill him dead if he caught a glimpse of Alvis hanging around with “shady folks”.

Oh, and that whole making a kid cry thing? That was one, big misunderstanding because- well, yes, Alvis did make that kid cry, but what actually happened was he accidentally knocked the kid’s ice cream cone out of his hand. Then he replaced the cone with the last of his paycheck, but of course that part conveniently gets left out of all those dumb rumors constantly spread through the neighborhood about his reputation.

As for the rest of the snarky gossip surrounding him-

Well, that stuff he had a much weaker defense against.

Still, Alvis Witt wasn’t dangerous; he didn’t get into all those fights because he wanted to (… most of the time). Whether it was because people believed those rumors and sought him out for a fight, or because some snotty rich dude thought he could treat someone like trash, he always attracted trouble. His dad kept trying to teach him about restraint, that he didn’t need to rise to every taunt or challenge someone tossed his way, but the lessons never really stuck.

Maybe one day they would, but, right then, all Alvis could do was dodge the oncoming fist, then respond with one of his own.

“You son of a bitch!” The beefy guy pushed himself up to his knees from where he’d slammed onto the ground, his bleeding nose dripping red into the disrupted snow. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Dude, you’re the one who attacked me for no reason,” Alvis said as he shook out his fist and smirked down at him. “Which is weird, considering what a weakling you are.”

The man let out an enraged cry and lunged forward, his movements sloppy and disoriented. Alvis sidestepped, then grabbed the man by his hair. He yanked his head down to not so gently meet Alvis’s rising knee.

The man fell limply to the ground.

Alvis watched the man’s stilled form for a moment, pausing to see if the fight was really over or not. When the man didn’t move even after Alvis nudged him with his foot, he heaved a sigh. He stepped over the guy to grab the lunchbag he had abandoned the instant he sensed a fist coming at him. Alvis’s hands shook as he picked it up, adrenaline flowing through him, making his fingers itch for more and setting his nerves on fire even through the biting cold. He glanced back, hopeful to see if the beaten man was still conscious- maybe even ready for a second round…

Okay, fine. Alvis did enjoy the fight a little bit. He was good at fighting. Probably the only thing he was good at. Sure, he could paint okay, and he was the most efficient worker when he wasn’t, you know, getting fired. But throwing punches, reading opponents movements, and knocking people onto their asses? That came naturally to him as breathing.

Because fighting was his heart pumping adrenaline into his veins. Fighting was knowing how to smile.

Fighting was a curse.

He really couldn’t call it anything else. Not when he dreamt of using his hands to create, and maybe help people, or even improve the world. But Alvis wasn’t good at fighting simply because it was a part of him; he had a gift life so graciously granted him since he was a child:

Incredible strength.

Maybe to others, his goals sounded simple and cliche, but for him, his strength made them unattainable no matter how hard he tried. He always went in with good intentions in mind, but somehow he failed, and then another rumor would start about the son of that genius mechanic who was tainting the family legacy.

Which… Alvis didn’t particularly disagree with, but he didn’t enjoy thinking about.

The morning bells in the distance pulled him out of his musings, reminding him he was about to be late for work. All need for a fight drained from his body as he took off sprinting, leaving his opponent behind in the snow.

#laughter lines #ya fantasy #novel #lgbt #when the last dragon died #the guardian

60 notes · View notes

monotonemanday · 6 years

Text

Our Birthday - Zen x MC

This is a little something I whipped up for not only Zen’s Birthday April 1st. (Which is still quite a few hours away for me) but also for my girl @zennyshoneybunch ‘s Birthday! Which is still happening for me! The 31st! haha So I hope you all enjoy! And Happy Birthday Helena! I love you girl! You are one of a kind. The Real Deal. And just sooooo wonderful! <3

The day had arrived. March 31st. Just any other day. Well more specifically, just another Birthday. You didn't have much planned. You stopped by the bakery and picked up a small cake to enjoy on your own. A simple cake decorated with a variety of fruits making it beautiful to look at. But you were definitely going to dig into it anyway. You place it on the counter and changed out of your work clothes. You put on a cute casual outfit but dressed it up a little with jewelry and a little more makeup than you would wear at work. Even though you weren't making things a huge deal it was still your birthday. You were off to a dinner with your family. You told your friends what you were up to and they asked you what the occasion was. Reluctantly, you told them it was your birthday. It was going to come out anyway. They flooded your phone with text messages.

"Well, now I feel like a dirtbag!"

"Why didn't you tell us a long time ago?!"

"We could have made plans! What do you want? I'll go pick something up right now."

"Girl it might be your birthday, but you suck. Why wouldn't you tell us when your birthday is?!"

"You gonna get laid for your birthday? We can help with that too!"

You shook your head at the barrage of messages. You didn't tell them because you knew they would overreact. They were busy and you wanted them to focus on other things. After they were done being whining and being inappropriate they sent you congratulations.

"We love you girl Happy Birthday! But next time we're going all out!"

"Love you, girl! You're the best. I hope you are nothing but happy on your Birthday! Expect gifts soon. ;)"

You told them thanks and made your way to dinner. You understood their shock. You never really ever talked about your Birthday so you didn't expect them to know, and even when people asked you danced around the subject. You hadn't even told HIM it was your Birthday.

He was a big star and he would be getting flooded with gifts. You figured your efforts would be lost in all of the celebrations that would go into his birthday. Plus he was extremely busy with rehearsals. You didn't want to burden him. Even though he was your boyfriend you felt that sometimes you could get overlooked. It wasn't his fault in any way. You knew he cared for you but it was the fans that were constantly pushing you out of the way. You decided to stop being such a Negative Nancy.

Dinner was lovely. You spent time with your family and ate tasty food. Your nieces and nephews made you wonderful homemade gifts with the help of your sister. Both your stomach and your heart were full and you made your way home.

It was far into the evening when you got home. Around 10 pm. You put your key in the doorknob and turned but it was already unlocked. You tensed up for just a second and then you figured there was no reason to be scared. It was most likely your friends trying to surprise you, knowing now that it was your birthday. You knew one of them had a spare key for emergencies. You clicked on the light and called out to them.

"Okay, criminals. I should file a police report on your crazy asses. Giving me a damn heart attack on my Birthday! My presents better be good!"

You turned the corner and you gasped, holding your hands up to your mouth. It wasn't your friends but your boyfriend. Light was flickering in his crimson eyes. He was holding the cake you had bought earlier. It was lined with lit candles. The brightest smile was on his face.

"I don't know who it was you were expecting Jagiya, but I hope you're not disappointed."

Your cheeks flushed red and you let out a nervous laugh. "Zen, what are you doing here? Didn't you have a busy day of rehearsal?"

He walked closer to you. Holding the cake up to your face. "Prince Charming would never leave his Princess alone on her birthday. Now make a wish."

You blew out the candles getting everyone to blow out except for one. Zen blew it out himself and gave you a wink. "We'll just make that our little secret." He gave you a light peck on the cheek and you took the cake from him. You placed it on the counter and rummaged through the drawer for a knife to cut it with.

"What did you wish for babe?" He asked leaning against the counter. He was watching you intently. He loved staring at you when you were running around the kitchen. It was adorable and he couldn't contain his smile.

"Well, I didn't really make a wish, Zenny." You took down two plates and placed them on the counter. Ready to share your sweet dessert with your sweet man.

"You didn't make a wish? Why is that, Jagi?"

"You see, my love. I didn't really need to! The only thing I was really regretting about my Birthday was that I didn't get to see you. And as usual, you answered my hearts call, like my knight in shining armor. Before I even had to wish!"

You could see the blush form on his cheeks. He was looking away from you. You placed a slice of cake on the plate and held it in front of him but also inches away from your face. You wanted him to look at you and couldn't help but laugh when he snatched the plate from you and mumbled a shy "Thank you" under his breath. He apologized for breaking into your apartment. He said that he had borrowed the spare key from your friend since he didn't have his own. You assured him it wasn't a problem and that you loved the surprise.

You two ate your cake and spent the rest of your birthday in bliss. You showed him the presents your nieces and nephews had given you. He talked about rehearsal and he even practiced some of his scenes for you. You chased each other around the apartment working off the calories from the cake. Which you didn't really need to since you were wearing most of the cake instead of digesting it. You pointed out Zen had gotten cake on his mouth and instead of helping out you wiped more on his lips. That led to an all-out war. And a mess you made him promise to help you clean up later.

It was a quarter until midnight and the two of you were sitting out on the balcony. He stood behind you. Arms wrapped tight around your waist. His chin resting on the top of your head. You could have fallen asleep standing up outside like that. Just due to the warmth of his loving embrace. You could hear the quiet nighttime breeze blowing and whipping both your hair around. You became very aware of the time.

"Zenny, should you be going home? You have lots of rehearsal tomorrow and it's very late. Besides...I'm sure you'll have lots of celebrating to do tomorrow and people you want to spend time with." Your voice was soft and pained. You had turned around in his arms to face him. Resting your hands against his firm chest. He kissed you softly on the forehead and you closed your eyes. You would miss him. You didn't want him to go but you didn't want to be selfish. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks when he held your chin and lifted your face so you could meet his gaze.

"I'd like to stay until after midnight, Jagiya. If you'll let me. I want to start my Birthday with the person most precious to me. My Princess." Your lips met and you had never shared a more special and beautiful, heartwarming kiss. It was exactly midnight.

"Happy Birthday, Zen."

"Thank you, Jagi."

You excused yourself and Zen couldn't hide the confusion on his face. You had gone inside but shortly returned with a small wrapped box.

"Jagiya, you shouldn't have gotten me any kind of present!" He protested but you shoved it into his hands anyway. He opened it and his eyes lit up. "Princess are you absolutely sure that you're okay with this?"

You were confused by his question. "Of course! I thought it was very you. It's just a keychain bottle opener. I had them inscribe your name on it. I thought it was cute is all." You were blushing. He bulled the keychain bottle opener out of the box and held it up.

"No Jagi, I'm talking about this. Is this a key to your apartment?" Your blush deepened.

"Well, yes. It is."

Zen began to laugh and you playfully swatted his arm. "What is so funny, huh?"

Zen reached into his pocket and pulled out a keychain with a locket charm. Inside the charm was a picture of the two of you and attached to it was a key. You took it from him and joined in on his laughter. You thanked him with a kiss and once he pulled away he hugged you tightly.

"I love you, Princess."

"I love you too, Zen."

You both let out a peaceful sigh and uttered the same words for the last time that night.

"Happy Birthday."

#zen #zen x mc #mc x zen #birthday #lovelyzen #lovelyzenweek #mysme #mysticmessenger #Mystic Messenger #writing #fanfic #mysme fanfiction #fanfiction #enjoy

50 notes · View notes

tigerrobot · 6 years

Text

Best days of our lives?

We were born only a day apart. Our mothers were at the same hospital at the same time. She was, apparently, a difficult labour while I was out in just over 6 hours. We first met at a playground when we were 2 and have been nearly inseparable since.

Amelia. My best friend. My sister. My backup, my bodyguard, my therapist, my confidant. Without her, I couldn't do what I do.

When I started down this path I tried to go it alone believing, like so many others, that letting someone in put them at risk. And, like those solitary heroes, I learned the hard way that we all need help.

The funny part was, I didn't need her to protect me from the monsters of the night. Those I could deal with on my own, magic did most of the work for me. Nah, sometimes the real monsters were other people.

"Hey, freak!" The boys laughed and ran down the hall, jostling with each other and acting like they just came up with the greatest insult to ever be heard. As a 17 year old decked out in tattoos, you became hardened quickly.

"Real mature, jerk-offs." Amelia scoffed at them and shook her head before turning back to me. "Seriously, they think they are clever or something? They could at least make fun of your silly hair." She playfully nudged me and smiled. She was the one who shaved my head for my side-cut.

"Right? Oh, you know, I haven't been asked what biker gang I'm part of recently. They could have used that one even." I rolled my eyes and smirked sideways at Amelia and continued to class.

3rd period came right after lunch. Amelia had chemistry and I was off to art. It was one of my favourite subjects because Mrs. Avery was one of the only teachers in the school who made me feel like I was normal. Of course, she thought my tattoos were just a form of self-expression rather than a weapon and a shield for the sake of humanity, but, hey, it was better than most people gave me. And it helped that I was good at art.

As we got to the intersection that would separate us for the next hour and a half, Amelia grabbed my hand and gave a slight squeeze. "Have fun! See you in P.E.!"

"Yep. Hey, don't go blowing anything up without me. I don't think the school could afford -another- chemistry lab." We both laughed and parted ways.

Last year, I caught a vampire squatting in the school. I'm typically non-violent unless I have to be and this vamp didn't give me that option. A story for another time but a scuffle ensued and the school suddenly had to make an insurance claim for a gas leak that led to the old chem. lab exploding. Oops.

I had been seriously drawing since I was 12. Every tattoo I had, I had drawn for the artists to ink. So I was used to making clean lines, transitioning into less functional art had been easy. In grade 9 we had learned the fundamentals and Mrs. Avery was so impressed with how quickly I picked it up, she insisted I keep taking her class. Apparently it had paid off because she had got in touch with a colleague of hers from a university in New York that wanted to meet me. While university was still another 7 months away, I guess it was important to think about this stuff ahead of time. And New York did sound exciting.

Art class was pretty uneventful. Perspective, use of colour, shading. During the ample down time a defender of the night who was also a teenager had, I would draw as my escape from everything else. And I was a notorious researcher, so most of what we learned in class, I had already been playing with on my own. A couple of the other kids, who considered themselves artfully gifted, always gave me sidelong glances, like they were trying to measure themselves against me. That was something I was never interested in. How well someone else did something had no baring on how well I did it, nor would it make what I was doing any less important to me. It wouldn't have been so bad had any of them taken the time to talk to me. I would have been more than happy to chat about technique with someone else who wasn't Mrs. Avery.

Phys. Ed. was another story though. Since I didn't look like the other girls, the change room was frightening place and I spent as little time there as possible. Amelia did her best to casually shield me and, so long as she was there, most of the other girls left me alone. Amelia was popular, traditionally pretty, and a complete bad-ass if you got on her 'bad' side. Hell, she made me look like a bunny rabbit when she got mad. High school would have been a literal Hell if it wasn't for her.

Unfortunately, she couldn't protect me all the time. Today she had to stay late in chem. class to talk to Mr. Forscyth about her paper. He was a good guy, a good teacher, but Amelia was nearly above his ability to teach. She absorbed S.T.E.M. information the way I absorbed the occult. She had been working on recreating a simple paper-based test to find your blood type and was showing him the research papers she had been following so that he could get a better understanding of what she was doing. THAT was thinking about university.

The other girls saw me walk in and waited a few moments to see if Amelia followed behind. When they didn't a sinister gleam came to their eyes and they descended.

"Hey Penelope! We never get a chance to chat without Amelia around. It's really a shame, you seem like you'd be really fun to hang out with." One of them said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"Oh, yeah, all those tattoos. It's really cool how you don't care what you look like. Those torn jeans and that old, beat-up leather jacket create such an air of mystique about you." Another remarked, barely containing her sarcasm.

"You should TOTALLY come to my party this weekend!" A third exclaimed, excitedly turning to her friends.

The fourth member of the group snickered, the first of them to break the act, as she said "Sure, but aren't we all a little old to be getting a clown for the party?" And they all started laughing. But, unlike on TV, they didn't disperse. And I knew they wouldn't. Without Amelia around, they could finally get out all of the hatred that they'd had to hold inside.

They had formed a semi-circle around me, my back basically against a wall. I'd have to physically push past them to get away. I shook my head at their attempts to anger me. It wasn't that I was zen or anything like that. People like this group had always been around, always looking to tear me down for whatever reason. And it wasn't that it didn't effect me. I could act like the stoic hero, act like nothing ever phased me and just roll with the punches, but nobody is that dead inside, not even some of the zombies I've squared off against.

"Oh, look, she's trying to be stoic! It's adorable! Come on, freakshow, just admit you don't belong here, run along home, and stop infecting our change room with your presence." Ah, the leader, standing up and being strong with her posse at her back. My hands balled into fists and I could feel the desire to channel a spell into them. How easy it would be to stop this forever, release a blast of energy into her chest and launch her across the room. Or whisper a word and turn them against each other. But magic wasn't to be used against non-magic folks. Even if some of them were worse than half the monsters I had to deal with.

"Good one. I really loved that bit about me not belonging here. I guess to belong at this school I need to have my parents pay off the teachers?" A rumor had been spread about the lead girl falling a class or two last year but her parents really wanted to take her on a trip to Sweden in the summer, and so taking classes just wouldn't do. A donation was made to the school and that little problem went away. By the way she reacted, either it wasn't just a rumor or she had gotten really sick of hearing it. She reached out and shoved me, causing me to fall back, my shoulder striking the wall behind me.

"You know what? We were wrong, you aren't a clown, you aren't even funny. You are just a waste of skin, but looking at it, it wasn't skin anyone else would have wanted anyway. You should feel blessed that I even bother to acknowledge your existence, goblin." And one of her lackey's grabbed my gym bag. I reached out to contest it but was again pushed against the wall.

"We'll do you a favour. You may be filth, but at least your clothes can be clean." The one who grabbed my bag walked into the showers and turned one on, leaving my bag sitting right under it. They all started cackling but stopped abruptly as Amelia walked in.

She saw them, cornering me, and I saw her eyes going through a quick assessment. My bag missing. I watched as her eyes hardened and he stalked forward.

"April, how convenient I got to run into you. Mrs. Ricter says that if you expect to graduate next semester, it's going to cost a lot more than last summer did at this rate. Teresa, I heard from Tommy that you have until tomorrow to return that dress you stole from the mall or they will be calling the cops, the agreement your parents worked out be damned." She looked at the 3rd girl with a look of pure digust but said nothing. Then her eyes fell on the fourth, the one who had just come out of the showers where she could now see my gym bag sitting on the floor.

I swear, she didn't even breath as she walk toward her. The girl started backing away, ending up in the showers herself. Amelia continued to stalk toward her and, while I couldn't see her face now, I imagined smoke billowing from her nostrils like a big momma dragon. The girl backed into a stall and Amelia reached out. The girl made herself smaller, shirking away from Amelia's hand. Amelia simply turned on the water and walked away.

On her way out she grabbed my bag and came back to me. While she was cornering their friend in the showers, the other 3 had left, barely able to maintain their composure and stop themselves from running from her.

"Come on. I'll tell Mrs. Frank that we have some work for yearbook that you are helping me with and we'll get out of here. You okay?" Amelia looked at me, worry in her eyes. I didn't want her to see it but a pair of tears rolled down my cheeks. More out of happiness that I had a friend like her than at anything those harpies had spat at me but I couldn't deny what they said had hurt.

She did as she said and Mrs. Frank didn't even question it. We walked out to her car, she tossed my wet bag into the trunk, not caring that it might get the carpeting back there soaked, and we headed to her place. Her parents wouldn't be home for another hour or so, and we could just veg out, watch some Steven Universe, eat way too much junk food, and completely ruin our appetites for dinner.

I love my best friend.

#original fiction #female protagonist #pen's tales

1 note · View note

feelsgood-anon · 7 years

Text

Eros - Bar AU [Season 2] Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE IS A MYSTIC MESSENGER AU. IT IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY THE AMERICAN SITCOM CHEERS, A SHOW CENTERED AROUND A BOSTON BAR CALLED CHEERS AND IT’S REGULARS. EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TRIED TO KEEP AS MUCH OF CANON PERSONALITIES WITH ALL THE MYSTIC MESSENGER CHARACTERS JUST REMEMBER THAT IT IS AN AU AND A FEW THINGS MAY BE DIFFERENT THAN IN GAME OR YOUR HEADCANONS. THIS HAS BEEN FUN TO PLAN AND I HOPE YOU FIND A BIT OF JOY READING IT!

PG13+ FOR SWEARIN’ AND BOOZIN’.

[Season 1]

[Season 2] | Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5p1 |

The typical busy Friday night rolled on at Eros. Both Zen and Red had steadily kept the drink orders coming as Cannon and Sunny kept a good pace to make the patrons happy.

Joe squirmed in her seat as she intermittently checked her watch. Her fingers fidgeted along her drink and when she almost knocked it off the counter, Zen turned to address her, “Hey, Joe. Everything alright? You’ve been nervous since you got here. You aren’t in any trouble, are you? Who do I need to beat up?”

“No no, it’s nothing like that! I’m just waiting for someone and I’m hoping they find the place okay,” Joe replied with a weak smile, “Thanks for your concern though.”

“No problem! I can’t have my favorite customer feeling down!” Zen said, wiping up the bit of mess that she made with her constant turning of her beer.

Jingle~!

“Welcome to Eros! What can we get you tonight?” Zen called out to the woman that entered, flashing her his dazzling smile. Her face drained of color as she saw him, stopping in her tracks as she stared, “Oh wow, she wasn’t kidding. You are Zen! I can’t believe it!”

Upon hearing the voice, Joe turned quickly in the barstool to grin towards the woman, “Hey! You made it! Wait, you really thought I’d lie? I told you I knew him!” She threw her arms around the other and hugged her tightly, “Did you find the place okay? I know you don’t come to this part of town often.”

The woman kissed Joe on the cheek, returning the hug, “No problems with my GPS! It’s a really nice place though,” She pulled Joe’s hair to the side to whisper in her ear, “Can I really meet him?”

Joe laughed and pulled the female towards the bar, waving a hand towards Zen, “Hey! Got a minute? I want to introduce you to someone.”

Zen drummed his fingertips along Red’s shoulder to indicate he needed him to watch the bar for a moment, and stepped towards the two, “For you, my dearest Joe, I have all the time in the world! What’s up?”

“Babe, this is Zen! Zen this is my girlfriend!” Joe beamed as she introduced them, clearly proud to have her significant other next to her. Zen squinted towards the unknown woman, the cogwheels in his mind spinning rapidly. His eyes lit up, holding his hand out for a shake, “It’s an honor to meet you, Mocha! I’m glad you could make it out to our little hideaway. Please, allow me to get you something to drink, on the house!”

Mocha blushed as she took his hand, “O-oh, it’s very nice to meet you too. I am a big fan of your work! But my name is-”

“Nuh uh~!” He chided playfully, “When you are at Eros, you are Mocha!” He reached under to pull a mug, pouring beer into it, “You’ll grow to love the name.” Passing the drink to her, he leaned into the counter, “Your girlfriend here? We call her Joe.”

Joe chuckled a bit and placed her arm around Mocha, sitting her down on one of the barstools, “It’s his thing. I find it rather endearing!”

Mocha nodded, still slightly dazed that she had Zen standing right in front of her, “Ah, you can call me whatever you’d like! I’m sorry, I’m just a bit star-stuck. You know, the first thing Joe and I bonded over was our love for your musicals! Now that I think about it, it's kind of romantic to meet you with her next to me.”

Zen grinned even wider, pushing the mug towards her once more, “You’re too sweet! It always warms my heart to know that people enjoyed my work in the past. It’s been awhile since someone genuinely complimented my talent. I can see why you two get along so well.”

“Oh, no thank you! I don’t drink alcohol,” Mocha moved the beer in front of Joe, “A glass of water would be nice, though.”

“Mmmm, of course! I can understand that. I don’t know if you heard, but I’ve been sober for a few months now. I assure you, our water is the best in town!” Zen chimed as he fixed up a glass, “Still on the house, yah know.”

Cannon, who had walked up during their conversation, scoffed at Zen’s comments, “Nice one, bro. I see how you pick up all the chicks.”

Zen rolled his eyes as he turned to look towards the waiter, “What is your deal? I’m just trying to be inviting to our delightful guest! It wouldn’t kill you to be a bit nicer once in awhile!”

“You’re not being nice, you’re flirting! And it’s disgusting! I would have thought you’d learn after not only losing the supposed woman you love once, but twice! Get over yourself, you aren’t that great!” Cannon practically screamed, his seething words echoing throughout the bar.

The tightening in Zen’s chest stole his breath away from him, and with a swift movement he roughly grabbed Cannon’s arm to pull him towards the office. Sunny, of course, heard the proclamation and immediately followed. She was stopped when Zen glared at her, “Not now, Sunny.” Amidst her protests he slammed the door, throwing Cannon onto the couch, “Listen here. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but it’s really starting to piss me off. I can let it slide if you are having issues with your medications again but I need you to quit starting shit in front of the customers! If you have a problem with me or anyone else I need you to pull me aside and talk to me like a decent human being!”

“Have you been drinking again? You only rage when you’re drunk. What a shame, Sunny was really hopeful about you.” Cannon sneered, crossing his arms as he looked Zen straight in the eye.

“I’m completely sober!” Zen roared, kicking over the small trashcan next to his desk, “Damn it, Cannon, what’s going on? There is only so much I can take, you know. Your words...they hurt.” His body slumped in defeat, dragging himself to his chair, flopping into it, “I know you, I’ve worked with you for so long. You say stupid things all the time. I also know when you mean to make it sting. And today, it cut deep. Call me a sissy, call me a pansy. I don’t care. Do you not understand that you go a bit too far sometimes?”

Cannon slowly dropped his arms from his chest and for the first time was at a loss for words. He knew what he said to people had the potential to hurt their feelings but he didn’t think anyone would ever take him seriously. A knot in his stomach began to form as the rise of guilt began to eat away at him. As much as him and Zen bickered, as much as they butt heads - Zen was always understanding and accommodating. Knowing that he had truly emotionally wounded him made Cannon feel like an asshole, “I-Im sorry-”

“Yeah, you’re always sorry. Sometimes an apology comes too late. I know that from experience.” Zen interrupted, his fingertips massaging his temples, “Words start losing meaning when the actions continue. Don’t you get tired of apologizing? When will you get to the point where you don’t have to? I’m too riled up right now, just go. Your tables are probably wondering where you are.”

“I’m...sorry…I really am…” Cannon whispered, getting up to walk to the door. As soon as he opened it, Sunny went tumbling to the ground. He frowned down at her, knowing she probably had her ear plastered to the door to try to hear what was going on. He silently stepped over her and made his way back towards the bar.

Zen raised a brow as he saw the girl, “I’m not really in the mood, Sunny. Could you please leave me alone for a bit?”

She scrambled to get to her feet, dusting off her apron, “I think you should talk about what you are feeling right now. If he really did hurt your feelings you can’t hold it in!”

He shook his head, “I get what you are saying, but I just want some time to think about things and cool off. I promise to call for you if I need to work something out. So please? Just give me some time.”

Sunny puffed her cheeks out. She really wanted to press the issues further but as she had promised him to try to give him space when he requested, she just nodded and closed the door behind her. Looking around, she narrowed her gaze towards Cannon, stomping over to him, “Are you happy with yourself? That was such an inappropriate thing to say! How dare you attack him like that? I expect better from you. He’s been through so much and you can’t even give him the courtesy of keeping your comments to yourself! You’ve really disappointed me today.” Using a finger to poke at his chest, she shoved him back a bit before walking away.

Cannon chewed at the inside of his cheek. That uncomfortable feeling in his stomach only got worse with her lecture. Not only was Zen disappointed but now Sunny? With a lengthy sigh, he continued to tend to his tables.

Red tip-toed over to Sunny who had busied herself cleaning some dishes, “Hey, everything okay?”

“If you must know, Red, your brother is being a really big brat tonight. Maybe you should talk to him so he doesn’t continue to destroy people’s lives.” Sunny pretentiously answered, “Someone needs to control him.”

Red looked over at his brother who seemed quieter than normal as he went around the bar, “Well...whatever you said must have done something to him. He doesn’t seem himself right now.”

Sunny turned around and looked toward Cannon as well, feeling slightly bad that she may have been too harsh. It was odd the way he was acting. Perhaps she was too harsh on him? “I’ll talk to him once things calm down. I can’t get angry, I need to stay objective!”

They both jumped when Zen emerged from the office, taking in a deep breath before he walked behind the bar once more. He pat Sunny on the head and went back towards Joe and Mocha, “Sorry for that, ladies. That’s not a usual occurrence, Joe can attest to that.”

Joe laughed a bit as she shrugged, “Things can get pretty interesting around here. If I may say, your therapy must be going well! I’m happy to see that you can recover and become calm in a timely manner. We are all proud of you.”

Zen blushed softly, looking down at his hands, “Ah, thanks doll. It really has been helping a lot. I just wish I wouldn’t blow a gasket still.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t be expected to just roll over and take everything people say! You’re allowed to get mad, especially if someone says something really rude!” Mocha piped in, “But I agree with Joe. From the stories she’s told me, you’ve improved a lot to move the altercation to a private area!”

He shifted his glance upwards to her, cracking a smile, “Thanks, Mocha. I see why Joe likes you. I hope you come by here more often, even if you don’t drink. I’ll make sure to add more non-alcoholic drinks to the menu. I can’t have sweet customers like you only drinking water.”

Joe leaned over and kissed Mocha’s temple, “She’s pretty great, yeah? I’m glad she came by to meet you. I spend a good amount of time here, I wanted to share the love.”

Mocha beamed proudly, “I’m glad I came too! I won’t lie and say I wasn’t worried about this place being a seedy joint, but I was pleasantly surprised. And I got to meet the wonderful Zen! I’ll definitely come when I can.”

Before Zen could respond to the barrage of compliments that were thrown at him, Cannon sneaked by him and tapped him on the shoulder, “Hey, boss? Can we talk?” The waiter asked softly. Zen would normally shrug him off but hearing the unusual tone from his employee, he nodded and gently pushed him out from around the bar, “Sure, let’s go to the back near the pool tables.”

The room was empty, Cannon thankful that he wouldn’t have to be in this situation around anyone else. Zen leaned against a table, blowing upwards to push the bangs out of his eyes, “What’s up?”

Cannon let in a sharp breath as he started to pace. He knew what he wanted to say, but didn’t know how to say it. The right thing to do would be to just outright apologize but he did consider that it would seem disingenuous at this point. How was he suppose to tell him how bad he really felt for what he said? He wasn’t used to going back on his words but deep down inside, he was aware of what had to be done. Letting out his breath in one slow exhale, he stepped forward and threw his arms around Zen, hugging him tightly.

Zen’s body stiffened so quickly, not knowing how to react. The first thought that ran through his head was that Cannon would try to body slam him into the table but when there was no effort to inflict harm, he was left with even more confusion. “What are you doing?” He squeaked, now trying to wiggle out of Cannon’s grasp.

“You want me to stop apologizing, but I need you to know that I know I was wrong. I did say all of those things just to piss you off and I acknowledge that you have every right to be upset. You’ve had enough shit going on to have to deal with me too. I’m...ugh…” Cannon pulled away and looked down at his feet, “I really am sorry, I was shitty. I’m going to try really hard not to bring that kind of thing up again.”

Zen’s expression softened, his hand going to ruffle Cannon’s hair now that he was free of his embrace, “Hey, thanks for that. Don’t worry about it, all is forgiven. It did bother me a lot but you coming to me calmly really helps. Is everything okay? You know I’m here if you ever need to talk. “

Cannon shifted slightly. How could he tell Zen anything when he didn’t even know why he was flying off the handle so easily? It wasn’t his mood swings being off, he didn’t feel irregular in that sense. He was just upset about anything and everything when he stepped into Eros. “I dunno. I guess I’ve been working too much. Do you think I could take a few days off soon?”

Zen nodded, bringing his arm back to his side so he could push off the table, “Of course. Let me look at the schedule and see what I can do. I’m sure Sunny won’t mind picking up a few shifts to cover things.”

The tightness in his gut pinched again at the sound of her name, “Could you talk to her for me, then? She seemed really mad and I don’t want to deal with it.”

“Sure, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about her, either. You know how quickly she forgives. Oh, and by the way,” Zen cleared his throat, “The hug. It was weird. Lets not do that again, yeah?”

“Yeah, I can assure you that it won’t. I wanted to puke while I was doing it.”

“Glad you didn’t throw up on me. I don’t even know how I would explain that to everyone. Go on, take your break. It’s Friday and I need you to be on top of things.” Zen said as he walked back towards the bar.

Cannon lingered around the pool tables for a bit before dodging his way out to the back alley of the bar. He paced, only stopping to kick aside an empty trash can. He had apologized to Zen and made amends but why did he still feel guilty? “Fucking Sunny…” He muttered. Her disappointment in him was still burning deep and that made him even more angry.

“Hey.”

He whirled around when he heard Sunny’s voice, the tips of his ears heating up with embarrassment, “What do you want? Gonna yell at me some more? Go ahead. I deserve it.”

Sunny winced as she fully stepped outside, sitting on the steps, “Yeah, about that. Zen spoke with me. Cannon, I’m really sorry about going off on you. I didn’t know you were already feeling bad about it and I probably just made it worse. I’m glad you worked it out, though. I’m proud that you could be mature enough to be so candid.”

The gross feeling Cannon had now changed to butterflies in his stomach, causing him to turn around so she wouldn’t notice the blush he felt creeping on his cheeks now, “Yeah well...he’s an asshole but you were right, he’s been through so much already. I guess I can give him a break.”

She laughed a bit; the response from him made her feel better that he was back to his normal self, “Hopefully everyone can get along better from now on.”

“Everyone?” He asked, “I don’t know about that. Some people are just meant to stay away from each other. But at the very least, we can shut up enough to get through the work shift.”

“I like to think I get along with everyone! Even with you! I don’t mind the things you say even if you are mean at times.” She stood up and skipped over to his side, putting her arm around his shoulder, “I think we all make a great team!”

“Tch.” He looked away from her, but her actions strangely calmed him a lot more than he expected, “I guess you’re not so bad yourself. At least, in small doses.”

“Really?” She replied quickly, giving him a big smile, “See! I knew you weren’t such a grump! Come on, let’s get inside. They are probably wondering where we are. Cannon, but honestly, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, reaching a hand to the small of her back to lead her to the back door, “It’s cool, I’m over it.”

tags: @zenscrotch @illneverrecover @suzunesays @serensama @sinfulinsecret @forever-ender

#mystic messenger #Eros Bar AU #mystic messenger fic #mm #mystic messenger AU #Jaehee Kang #Zen #Hyun Ryu #Unknown #Saeran Choi #Seven #Saeyoung Choi

34 notes · View notes