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like-the-wings-of-butterflies · 5 years

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This Moment In Time (Racetrack Higgins x Reader)

Summary: Upon moving into your first apartment with Race, you’re reminded of the moments that led you to where you are

Warnings: Some mild angst quickly followed by sweet sweet fluff because I’m an absolute sucker for it

Word Count: 2,244 (this is longer then any of my usual stuff wtf)

A/N: I KNOW I’M A QUEEN BLOG BUT I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS AND DIDN’T FEEL LIKE SETTING UP ANOTHER BLOG TO POST IT SO ENJOY SOME OF MY OTHER FANDOM NONSENSE

A.K.A - I rewatched Newsies for the upteenth time (god bless you disney +) and it sparked an idea which is only a tiny little bit self indulgent

Feedback and comments are always appreciated! ♡

“So this is it.” You breathed into the darkened room, a smile dancing on your lips.

Race placed the burning candle in the centre of the one room apartment before rising to his feet again and grasping hold of your hand. The gentle flickering glow revealed that the small apartment. It was neglected to say the least, paint peeling from the walls, dust-encased windows and the odd squeaking floorboard; certainly a step up from the lodging house however. “I know it ain’t what we were dreamin’ of, not even close, but it’s-“

“It’s got a roof and it’s got you,” You finished for him, squeezing his hand in assurance with an honest smile despite him barely being able to see through the darkness. “It’s perfect. Nothin’ a bit of cleanin’ won’t fix.”

Truly, you couldn’t help but fall for the mess that was Racetrack Higgins. When you first showed up on the doorstep of the lodging house at the age of 13, it was Race that volunteered to take you under his wing and teach you the fine art that was selling newspapers. Staying as his selling partner permanently wasn’t exactly part of the plan, either was becoming one another’s best friend, but the pair of you couldn’t imagine selling with anyone else; having grown too accustomed to each other’s company.

He’d always flirt with you - as he would with every other person who’d give him the time of day— flattering you with compliments and cheesy pick up lines at every opportunity. You’d flirt back of course, not being able to resist the handsome blonde’s charm, but at the cost of catching feelings; no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, a childhood crush steadily emerged, turning the heads of the other newsboys.

But as the years progressed, you both matured into young adults. Your experiences bringing you closer together as you grew fonder of one another day by day.

Never in your entire life did you think you’d be living anywhere else but the crumbling walls of the lodging house or in one of New York’s damp alleyways. Yet here you were, hand-in-hand with your fiancé, settling into your first home together. Many were shocked that you were engaged at such a young age, but neither of you could truly see yourselves without the other in your life. Now too old to live in the lodging house, Race ironically managed to find work operating printing presses, and you as a server at Jacobi’s. In a unlikely twist of fate, you managed to earn enough money to move into the small apartment and support yourselves, all while keeping a close eye on the other Newsies.

“Should we check out the penthouse?” Race grinned ear to ear, running to the window upon your nod. He wrestled with the frame for moment before it opened with a satisfying ‘crack’ that echoed through the apartment, before stepping out onto the fire escape.

“M’lady~“ Race offered his outstretched hand with a charming smile, helping you step onto the raised surface. Your breath hitched as you saw the landscape in your surrounds. You were about four floors up which made the view expansive, and you suddenly became keenly aware of how many beautiful sunrises you’d be able to watch from your current position. You’d been in Jack’s penthouse on a couple occasions, but never just to sit and admire the view.

“How the hell did we make it here Racer?” You breathed in awe as you watched lights and lampposts decorate the otherwise dull streets of New York, like little stars in a blackened sky.

Race wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a sweet embrace, your back pressed against his chest and his head resting on your shoulder, “I was just the prettiest Newsie you’s had ever seen and you’s couldn’t help but fall for me,” He teased, pressing a long kiss against the side of your neck as he giggled lightly to himself.

“You don’t think growin’ up or working together our whole lives had anythin’ to do with it?” You jested back, reaching a hand behind you to fiddle with the curls upon his head as you closed your eyes and leaned into his embrace.

“Absolutely not. But the strike?” He mused thoughtfully, “That’s when I realised I loved you.”

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

It was no surprise waking up to Race sitting on the cold floorboards beside your bunk the night after the strike had been announced. Your beds weren’t too far from one another and Race always slept lightly, often being the call of comfort whenever anyone was having nightmares. He gently shook you awake while brushing away the tears that stained your face, smiling lightly once your eyes opened.

“What’s goin’ on Doll?,” He whispered out, careful not to wake the others, “Why you’s havin’ nightmares?”

“I’m scared what we’re doin’ is gonna get us all hurt,” You croaked out into the darkness, doing your best to hold back a sob. “That we’s gonna end up in the Refuge.” Nobody was oblivious to the chances of the strike ending in violence, the stakes were high; you were only a group of kids fighting against one of the most powerful men in New York after all.

Race’s hand stilled on the side of your face, his warm palm flat against your cheek grounding you and bringing you a sense of comfort. He could see in your eyes just how scared you were.

“I’m scared too,” He admitted before pausing, seemingly collecting his thoughts, “But we’s gonna be okay. Jack and Davey are smart, they’s know what they’re doin’.” He vowed, taking hold of one of your hands and rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

You both sat in silence for quite some time, both too distracted by your thoughts swirling around your heads. As you felt your eyelids growing heavy, you lightly tugged on Race’s arm who brought his eyes up to meet yours.

“Stay with me?” You queried, eyes hopeful.

Without so much as a second thought, he lifted the thin sheet covering your body before sliding into the small bed, his chest pressed against your back, “Anythin’ for you (Y/N).”

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

A few days later, when the bulls attacked, you were an absolute mess; much like the others. In such a short amount of time, your entire world had flipped upside down and everything was shrouded in a new sense of seriousness.

Of the entire group, Davey, Mush, Albert and yourself had come out relatively unscathed - save for a couple bruises - meaning you’d been tasked with patching up the others who weren’t as lucky. You’d just finished tying up Les’ arm into a sling, only as a temporary measure however, just to stop the energetic boy from exercising it too much until he got home. You bargained on the fact that Mrs Jacobs would have a far better fix to his seemingly broken arm, knowing that if worst came to worst, the family could afford a doctor.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” You grinned softly as you walked towards Race in the back corner of the lodging house, shrouding himself in the shadows of the late afternoon sun.

“Ha ha.” He imitated, his usual playful attitude absent as he refused to look in your direction.

Something wasn’t right.

With your bodies facing each other, his legs hung over the edge of the table he was perched on as you remained standing. After a few moments of unmoving silence, you lightly tapped his knee, asking him to move so you could stand between his legs. He complied, but kept his eyes secured to the wall on your right. Slowly, you reached out to cup his jaw with a gentle hand, tilting his face to meet yours. You face fell the instant you saw the extent of his injuries.

His left eye was swollen shut, with hints of black already forming on the delicate skin. His chin was tinged an unforgivable red from where he’d wiped away the blood from his busted lip and damp trails ran from his watery right eye.

He’d been crying.

Your own tears welled up when he looked you in the eye, and you found yourself biting your lip to stop any from falling.

With your other hand, you grasped hold of the brim of his worn hat and placed it on the table beside him, letting the mess of curls fall lose against his face.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded solemnly, bringing a hand up to wipe away at his own tears before resting his head against your chest and wrapping his arms around your back, “You?”

“Just shaken up.” You stated, wasting no time in wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing your chin upon his head. The pair of you stayed like that for an extended period of time, without anyone questioning you. It was a hard day for everyone, no one needed to make it any harder. After some time, the sun had set and the lodging house was quieter then ever before. You longed to sit down and fall asleep yourself, your legs sore and aching. But you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb the heavy sleeping form of your best friend. The years of denial on your behalf, stating that you hadn’t caught feeling for Race were long forgotten now.

The things you’d do to make that moment last forever.

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

A few days later, you and the other Manhattan Newsies had recovered for the most part. Physically, everyone were well on their way to healing, but emotionally there was still a fair way to go. Crutchie was still in the Refuge and Jack was still missing but everyone had managed to rest up while Davey reassessed the group’s future movements.

While the others sat glumly in Jacobi’s, you’d decided to go for a long stroll around New York to clear your head, musing the thought of visiting Crutchie in the Refuge. He was one of your closest friends, so sweet and so caring with an equally as vibrant personality, the thought of him in such a wretched place brought tears to your eyes.

You’d helped Jack smuggle food and blankets on too many occasions to count; how difficult could it be without him?

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the shout of your name from a long way down the busy street. Race’s figure came into view quickly, his chest was heaving as he sprinted down the cobblestone footpath towards you. Immediately, you panicked, thinking Race had been caught stealing cigars again and the cops were on their way but much to your surprise, he slowed as he neared you. Rather then desperation being painted across his features, his face held joy. Pure, unadulterated joy.

“We’s in the papes (Y/N)!” He gasped out, bending to place his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“What are you talkin’ about Race?”

“Katherine got us in the paper!,” He heaved, sweat glistening on his forehead. He pulled the rolled up newspaper from underneath a strap of his suspenders, before unrolling it to the front page and holding it out to you, “Look! That’s us!” He beamed, pointing a finger at the image underneath the headline: ‘NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD’.

In your slight state of shock, you glossed over the story and mentally took note to personally thank Katherine later on.

You actually made it into the papes.

“You’s know what this means?” You queried, your smile transforming into a bright grin as you grabbed hold on Race’s hands, tucking the paper under your arm.

“We’re famous.” He finished for you, his grin matching yours.

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

“Newsies of New York City.” Jack addressed from the top of Newsies Square, Joseph Pulitzer at one side and governor Theodore Roosevelt at the other. It was nice to see him back where he truly belonged, the so-called ‘King of Manhattan’. You could feel your heart beating painfully in your ears as you awaited the news, the anticipation making every second feel longer then what it actually was. Race’s hand was tight in your grasp as you sucked in a final breath, “We won!”

The chorus of cheers that sounded was deafening. It was finally over. After two ruthless and unforgiving weeks of striking, and everything had finally come to a close.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realise you were holding and turned towards Race. Race grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, laughing and chorusing while you were grinning ear to ear yet entirely speechless.

When he pulled away, you were slightly disappointed with the loss of contact, but when his arms around your body were replaced by his lips against yours, the world melted away. Slow and soft yet fiery and passionate the same time, as unpredictable as Race himself. His hand moved to cup your jaw and draw you closer, your arms finding their way to wrap around his neck.

When you pulled apart, there was stars in both of your eyes.

“I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too Racetrack.”

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

You sighed lightly at the fond memories, feeling incredibly grateful for all that had happened in order to bring you to where you were.

“We’s really made it huh?”

Race briefly chuckled into your shoulder, before raising his head and placing another long kiss against your neck, “We’s really made it.”

#newsies x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #race x reader #newsies race x reader #newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #jack kelly x reader #davey jacobs x reader #x reader #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #writers on tumblr

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munchies-for-thought · 4 years

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The reason your favorite character is flawed and how it changed how I saw my life

Jun 18, 2020

Context: I’m a huge fan of the anime “JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure”. (Reading Part 6 pls don’t spoil kthx bai). Don’t worry. You don’t even have to know about anime to get my message. It’s just the example closest to me.

The revelation behind each flaw

Rohan Kishibe is a character that is incredibly talented as a manga artist. He is so obsessed in his craft that he goes to terrifying and ethically questionable extents to get inspiration for his stories. Sometimes a villain, sometimes a hero. His art is everything for him. Well worth risking his or someone else’s life. He is generally a good guy, and wishes good upon the world. He just won’t go out of his way to make it happen. He is also defeated almost immediately after we meet him.

Rohan Kishibe is indeed one of my favorite characters of all times for a multitude of reasons, yet when describing him, he clearly is a flawed character. Yet this is NOT about him. While you read this blog, please think on the coolest fictional character you can think of. Do you have one in mind? Can you answer the following about your favorite character?

Has your favorite character failed?

Has he been hurt badly?

Are some things out of his control?

Do most people in his world generally understand the struggle they go through?

You’ll see when comparing with friends that we mostly agree on these answers even when thinking on different characters. The interesting truth lies in the common factor behind these answers, and learning a bit from the power of good storytelling.

One of the most precious things that I have gained from playing videogames, watching anime and playing Dungeons & Dragons all my life, is the first-hand knowledge of the power of a good story. Although it is in the HOW you make a good story, where I found this revelation that helped me so much.

What I am trying to say might be simple and even obvious when read, but not truly understood. If you bear with me a bit longer, I will attempt not to say, but to explain. I’ll show you the building blocks of how I learned so you truly understand as I did.

Dungeon and Dragons’ Character Backgrounds

The first time I made a new character in Dungeons and Dragons (Drow Elf Bard btw) I was blown away when I found out that whereas you get to pick from options that greatly impact your likelihood of winning, you also had to pick background and personality options that held no significant impact on your success.

You could choose to be a triumphant noble, a devote acolyte, a successful guild merchant or even a lying charlatan. Hell, if you wanted to you could even pick an orphan who had lost it all in the edgiest way known to man!

The book was also quite good at giving you specific quirks that brought that character to life. All of this happened because D&D is focused on group storytelling. Everyone wants your character to be interesting so their adventure gets 10x cooler when their complex characters interact with yours in intriguing and unexpected ways.

For example:

The secret beauty behind flaws

I was just a tad... confused. I had to chose a flaw? Why would I want to do this? All of these options look just like ugly parts of your character’s personality and could easily affect them negatively within the story.

Was this a balancing feature? A rule simply put there to make you less awesome, so no one is too overpowered? I just could NOT wrap my head around it. I couldn’t understand how this could make things fun. They were ruining my character.

It was until I started maturing as an individual and learned more about game design and storytelling that I started to appreciate how genius that was. No one cares for the story of perfect, bland, basic individuals who always succeed and have never made mistakes before. Because that is not real, it doesn’t work for an interesting story if there’s no sadness. If there’s no pain, you can just simply look away.

It was to be expected of the game designers of the best roleplaying game in the world to know that having flaws, failures, challenges, weaknesses, mistakes, all of them are ESSENTIAL for a great story to be told!

Was there a moment in your favorite character’s story where his failures and his pain made you love them on a whole new level? Aren’t those failures what drives your characters to become who they are? Would it be a better story if they had always succeeded?

So who is this Rohan Kishibe and, as an artist, what is his take on good storytelling?

Rohan’s Philosophy

Not only is Rohan a good example of a flawed character, but he also has a very interesting philosophy. He is a famous and wealthy manga artist. You’ve got to understand that, to Rohan, his craft is EVERYTHING. It is the thing he does best and what defines him.

Let me just show you one quote of his, so you understand his artistic philosophy:

“Reality is the energy that breathes life into a piece of work, and reality itself is entertainment. People often think that manga are drawn from imagination and fantasy, but that’s not actually true! For me, drawing something that i’ve experienced, or something that has moved me, is what makes it interesting!”

His pursuit for inspiration is so great, that he constantly goes to insane lengths to gain inspiration. This unrelenting desire is why he was originally a villain. Yet even when the protagonist defeated him, all Rohan could think of was of how this set of unfortunate and unlucky events was within itself a hell of a REAL story to use as inspiration. He saw value even in his misfortune as long as it was honest, untapped, unadulterated and pure reality. That’s his trade secret as a famous and successful storyteller.

Understanding reality, storytelling and our identity

Warning: We’re about to get metaphysical. You might wanna take that bong hit right now. You’ve been warned.

Talking about reality is like opening Pandora’s box. It is such a massively complex topic that before we can even get to the nitty-gritty of it, let’s just agree on the following for the sake of this conversation:

Depending on how skeptic you are, reality could be mostly subjective or arbitrarily objective. So just follow my lead on this one and match your understanding with mine at least while you read this blog.

NO ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSES OR REALITIES

Fate is merely the belief that there is a predestined way things will happen no matter what. Since its only requirement is also its only consequence, (which is also impossible to prove) then even thinking on fate is pointless or even harmful to an individual as it removes agency from himself and turns him into a bystander in his own life.

Facts are limited to the provable physical world. If you can’t prove it, you don’t KNOW it is real, but you could still believe it to be real.

Our understanding of ourselves, comes partly from how others perceive us and their own subjective view of reality.

As mere humans we don’t completely control reality, but we control how it affects us.

Your own experiences and passions have a gargantuan influence on your interpretation of reality.

Storytelling could be simplified as “the way in which reality is described”.

Changing how you tell a story doesn’t change the facts.

That last one sounds a bit anticlimactic doesn’t it? Specially since we’ve talked so much about storytelling just to find out it can’t change reality. You might even wonder if its uses are only limited to art?

Fret not! This is where it all starts coming together.

My story

Before you disregard storytelling as just an art form, or an overglorified logbook, let’s think outside of the box and take a few leaps with me. Let me show you when was it that it clicked for me:

“Just when the COVID-19 lockdown was about to begin, I was at one of my lowest. I’ve always been someone very adamant on living life as he sees best. Even when friends or family wouldn’t understand my decision, I would still pursue my own path. I was proud of this and felt it made me immune to what other people thought. Yet, years of failed relationships were starting to make me doubt myself.

After an emotional breakdown at Denny’s after being stood-up (Great story for another day) I started worrying that the problem might be me. I’ve always been open to feedback as long as it makes sense to me in a logical way, but I had built so much thought behind who I was, that I didn’t even consider that maybe, I was more flawed than what I had originally assessed.

Maybe if all these bad things kept happening to me, there was a constant behind it all. Judging by the fact that these happened throughout the span of years and with different people, it was only reasonable to assume I was the only constant. Maybe my relationships, both in love and in friendship, were failing not because of individual and complex reasons, but because I was involved in all of them.

Maybe I just won’t build close friends or a family, but I guess I can still find a way to enjoy life. It’s just a lonely life, a very lonely life, but it’s best to face reality head on. That’s what I have always taught myself, right? It would be foolish not to do so when the answer is an inconvenient one. It’s still reality. Better get used to it I guess.”

Wow, that went to a very dark place didn’t it? It’s crazy looking at it in retrospective, but while it happened, it really felt like that was just the facts. I sucked at friends and love. That was just the cold hard reality to me. I mused:

“It’s like if I was a D&D character with low charisma doomed to suck at social encounters... “

and then a sudden realization froze me to the core...

Even if by mere accident, I ended up thinking of myself as a D&D character. Remember all that talk about flawed characters? Well, what if I would see myself as a flawed character? We already agreed that the best characters fail, struggle, suffer, cry, rage, and they make mistakes!

It’s like I had opened a whole new dimension that brought new light into who I was. Those weren’t horrible memories of things that broke me down and I wish no one would ever find out anymore. Those were just wild chapters on the bizarre adventure that is my life. These are badges of honor of what my very own story is!

Storytellers are already influencing your reality

I won’t stand here and tell you that everything bad happens for a good reason. Please be careful not to take the wrong message out of this. That wasn’t what I realized at that moment. I finally was able to see that there were two storytellers that had been affecting me all my life, and I hadn’t really seen their influence before!

Let me unmask these two powerful beings that through their storytelling, had changed my reality.

Powerful Storyteller #1 - Those close to you

Did you notice how the story that I was listening from my friends and love interests was sounding aggressively negative towards my self-value? I thought I didn’t care but I was indeed interpreting my life through their stories.

Since we already understand that we each have our own interpretation of life, good and wrong, then it’s not that hard for us to understand that we will never fully agree on what’s cool. Some of us love things that most people don’t even understand. So when they talk to you, they are inadvertently telling you a story about how you’re weird, instead of fascinating.

If only you could have friends or people who DID understand you, then maybe the stories about you would be seen in a much more positive light. It’s not your friends fault for not understanding, you were just asking something unreasonable from them.

Get yourself surrounded by those who are weird like you. You’ll notice that for the right crowd, you’re just the coolest person just for being who you are. That feeling is just invigorating in every sense.

Powerful Storyteller #2 - Yourself

Back in my story, you can see how I took a lot of my own “interpretations” as “facts” or even “reality” when I told myself my own story. You could have just as well told my same story but in a different way with a much more positive light:

“My relationships did fail, but that doesn’t necessarily reflect on my self-worth. I can continuously fail but love the fact that I’m the type of character that is still hopeful and positive even after repeatedly failing and suffering pain each time.”

It’s important you understand what makes you cool as a character. Because it is your job to tell yourself the story of who you are, what you’ve done, and who you will be. You have already been doing so for as long as you can remember, so you don’t even notice it anymore. You are STILL, to this day, re-telling yourself your story and changing how you feel about some parts of it.

What can we do about it?

So if you already are in charge of such a crucial and delicate task, why don’t you apply what we’ve learned so far? Can’t you see how you as the audience (from your own storytelling) would feel when seeing your main character in emotional pain? Don’t you feel empathy and love towards it because of all it has struggled?

You have the power to choose whether or not you will tell your story as the sad log of things you suck at, or as the crazy adventures of someone who’s just trying to do their best. Someone who is AWESOME because you do understand why he gets so excited when talking about that thing, and why he is so disappointed that that other thing didn’t work out again.

Those dark painful memories are beautiful crystallizations of true art! You already have what Rohan Kishibe is willing to kill to get. You already have an amazing REAL story, you now just have to use your storytelling skills to make yourself some justice, and talk about yourself like the amazing character you are when you tell that story to yourself next time you go to sleep.

At least when it comes to my story, well, the only reason why I would ever even think of writing a blog this long, is because I’ve changed the way I tell my story. I firmly believe that most people will never even have the opportunity to read this, but I have also seen value in these thoughts even if there’s no one besides myself who will listen to my story. If anything, at least I hope my story helps you love your character a bit more, just how I have learned to truly appreciate mine.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for listening to my story. I would always love to hear yours.

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peepingtoad · 4 years

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO / 50-50 (There’s a lot of love and a lot of hate, but I think many are actually pretty neutral on him too!)

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / 50-50 (I’d say he may be an... acquired taste? Of course a lot of people I know here find him sexie so it’s hard to say for certain, heh. We may just be the weirdos of the fandom :P )

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO

Are they underrated? YES / NO (Not in terms of ability, but underrated for just how complex and multi-layered he is, I’d say)

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO /

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL (I honestly think he’s a man of many reputations, both in canon and in fandom :’D)

How strictly do you follow canon? — I’m very much a ‘use the bones of what we got in canon and do my best to flesh them out’ kinda roleplayer. There are some things that can be taken too easily at face value that I see fit to build upon. For example, I think Jiraiya’s feelings on the prophecy and his relationship with Konoha is something that could be too easily played off as simplistic, or like they were immovable constants. But that’s unrealistic for a man of his years and many experiences, so I try to put myself in his emotional setting at various points in his life, and trace how his feelings and behaviours change, if that makes sense?

I try to avoid saying that any of the writing was straight up wrong because it’s disrespectful to the creator. But especially for Jiraiya, who had such a significant role to play in the narrative that it sometimes took precedence over his actual character, I do find some of his actions, and the way some interactions were handled in the canon to be a little OOC... so I’ll work with it and try to spin it in a way that I feel fits how he was characterised.

Basically, I’d say that I follow canon, but I like to enrich it in areas that were lacking detail or a nuanced view that took in all the surrounding events of the time. After Jiraiya’s canon death, of course, that’s when more divergence comes in to my portrayal... otherwise I wouldn’t be able to play any post-war scenarios! But the essence of his character is the same, which I try to keep as close to canon as possible.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — A man of many experiences! You can bet that any topic that comes up, he’ll have some sort of amusing anecdote to share, or be able simply to talk shit about it. He's seen so much, and has a sensitive soul enough that he’ll give anyone a chance; he’s very open-minded and non-judgemental, and honestly is a humanitarian that wants to help those in need. Might leave your muse a little baffled as to how he could hold the status of ‘legend’, only to show it when they least expect it. You never quite know what you’re going to get with him: he’s generous and selfless, yet has many vices that seem selfish at times; he’s both a lover and a fearsome fighter; he’s immensely resilient at the same time as incredibly vulerable and damaged; he’s a himbo and a bit of a jock with the soul of a poet. Love him with no restraint and invite his love in return, and you’ll get not only a lover, but a devotee. Wears his heart on his sleeve... or does he? Chip away at him and find out!

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — The pervy, flirty, jokey schtick could get grating, or come across as disingenuous. In romantic situations, he’ll keep quiet about putting a label on whatever it is, and beneath his overall sweetness and devotion there may be an underlying reek of commitment issues and a fear of admitting he is afraid. He also has a habit of deflecting negativity in general, and playing things off as if they don’t matter or they’re a joke, making him actually rather a difficult person to get to know the heart of. One might feel as if they’re getting nowhere with him...

... Either that, or they get the complete opposite. Yes, as equally as he can be guarded, he can overshare like crazy, and has a tendency to become codependent with those he gets attached to, which is inconsistent with his free-spirited nature, and how adept he is at keeping others at arm’s length from his less sunny side. This inconsistency might make him seem unreliable—if the fact he’s always off who-knows-where doesn’t do the trick already.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — I’ve been a big fan of the Sannin ever since I first read the Deadlock, but being a very young person at the time I perhaps couldn’t relate enough to people who had experienced so much to do them justice in my teenage fic-writing endeavours, so I remained on the sidelines enjoying content by other people (there may also have been a little bit of ‘what the fuck, why do I dig the old dude so much’ denial in there haha). I’ve picked up and dropped my obsession with the series several times over the years, and my love for those three seemed to grow each time. They really are ‘the lost generation’, and as the sole survivors—alongside having a huge impact on the plot, how the shinobi world is shaped, and the three main protagonists—there’s a lot of juicy material there, a lot of emotional background, along with decades of history that basically goes untapped in the canon.

Anyway, I digress. Coming to the Naruto RPC for the first time around this time 2 years ago at the age of 25, I made this blog and my Deidara one on a whim, but focused on the latter at first. Villains were always comfortable territory for me in my other RP experiences, and I think it made me doubt that I could possibly do someone who is frankly a lovely guy any justice, no matter how much I loved him. I even had the intention of making him fully Akatsuki/Missing-Nin AU at first. Yeah. That’s how stuck in my villain/anti-hero zone I was! But, I think in the end, the fact he actually isn’t a two-dimensional typical ‘hero’ was something I chewed over and realised would be incredibly enriching to write, worth stepping out of my comfort zone for. And being a little more mature and less angst-ridden myself by that point, I found I could resonate with his feelings and ideals in a way that I know I couldn’t have as a teen... but I was still tentative.

Anyway, after leaving his blog empty for a bit (with its placeholder URL ‘frogdaddy’, which sadly got hoarded by someone else), I cosplayed the old bastard, along with my partner as Orochimaru. We’d been stanning that particular ship and talking about how great the Sannin are in general for quite some time by that point, but being casually in character for fun while drunk off my tits at a boat party, was a bit of an epiphanic moment. Not long after that, I threw myself right into writing this chaotic-good old bastard with gusto, and here I still am :’)

What keeps your inspiration going? — Taking breaks to recharge as and when I need to. Seriously. The death of all my other blogs has been pressure (mostly from myself) to be there and force myself to put out regular content, so I went into this not thinking that way and it’s really helped!

Of course, there’s also the fact that there simply seems to be no shortage of areas I can delve into with this guy. Again, it’s his age and all the missing years in canon... but I think it’s also how much love he has and his genuine eagerness to engage with others that makes him one of the most naturally bountiful muses I’ve played. Because honestly? Most of my villain muses wanted people to just fuck off :’D this guy is open to everything.

That aside, I guess I just gel with him more than I ever expected to. I’ve changed a lot as a person and gained more confidence since various areas of my life got better, and I really just vibed with this chill, funny, romantic, pervy, big-hearted energy. I enjoy angst, but my real love is peppering the serious and heartbreaking with romance and comedy—and isn’t that just befitting of him? Writing through his eyes also helps to keep my outlook positive, so that keeps me stuck on him as much as the seemingly limitless content potential.

And this is without even going into my cross-fandom AU ideas I have on the back-burner. Honestly, they’re there but I want to put a real effort into them while keeping his essence the same, which for some, involves brushing up on my lore!

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO.

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO / RARELY. (depends on whether I get a flash of inspiration—which mostly comes with random asks that happen to stir up an idea for a scene, such as this one (NSFW warning))

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO.

Are you a sensitive person? YES / 50-50 /NO. (I tend not to take things personally but am also very passionate—call it my innate Leo-ness!)

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — Hmmm. I haven’t actually had any critique on my portrayal, so I’m not sure haha! I’d say if it’s constructive, then I’ll take it into account and consider it, especially if it’s a case where it helps me realise I’ve perhaps not gotten across what I intended to very well. But I’m also quite fond of my portrayal in its essence, so I may end up just thanking the person for their opinion and carry on as usual :P

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — Absolutely! I’ve had some wonderful ones recently and it’s exactly the kick I need to get ideas out, some of which I’ve had on the back-burner but not had a framework within which to write it without it getting derailed. I definitely appreciate a question that will keep me at least a little on-topic, otherwise if I go off on my own volition I really tend to... well, go off! Even if a question is a similar topic to something I’ve already done, it’s a good exercise for me to go back to the similar headcanon and see if I can build further on it, deviate, and link it to show what past thoughts I’ve been working with. A great way of keeping some consistency in my portrayal while making improvements, I find! And then of course I’ve had some questions that are entirely new morsels for thought, and it leads me to something new and fresh, which I greatly appreciate.

Basically, any questions at all, fire away! I may take a while but I will get to them eventually!

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — Yeah. I mean I think it’s just polite to present a reason as to why not, instead of just being like ‘this is wrong/a bad take’ or whatever. Source material is down to personal interpretation, so if I draw different ideas from it to another person after discussion, then we can simply agree to disagree on it.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — They are welcome to disagree with me I guess? So long as they’re respectful and don’t then treat me as if my interpretation is ‘AU’ or talk about ‘canon Jiraiya’ as if he’s obviously a different entity to my own, then disagree away. But if prompted enough, know that I will most likely defend my portrayal with what I consider to be justification from the source material :P I did pay close attention to it, after all, and I do consider my portrayal to align well with it.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — Depends on the nature of it and the conduct, really? Like, people are allowed to dislike characters. I myself find a couple of characters pretty annoying or don’t particularly care for them (granted, usually it’s in a love-to-hate or simply a ‘this character doesn’t interest me’ way), but that doesn’t affect how I behave towards the RPer of a character. It’s just manners, really. People tend to RP characters because they like them, so why would you take negativity right to their doorstep, in this space they’ve made as an expression of enjoyment for, and to develop said character?

There’s been some people who admitted to me that they didn’t care much for Jiraiya, but then began to like him more with my portrayal and that’s more than fine; I take it as the highest compliment in fact. It’s also the kind of open-minded attitude I like to have with portrayals of characters I don’t necessarily like or have much interest in, because by and large, people do tend to add more depth and nuance than the busy and character-packed canon allowed.

However, if it’s the type of hate that’s got its own devoted circle of bitter bitches, who seem to use so much energy hating a character... then please, don’t engage me. Doesn’t matter who the character is, don’t expect me to follow/keep following your negative ass if it’s constant on the dash—and if the target character is any of the Sannin then frankly I’ll have probably blocked/blacklisted in a heartbeat. The ‘critical’ views of them tend to diminish them as humans, diminish the context and events that surrounded their choices, and in a way that I find is a gross double standard compared to what people will allow other (read: young, attractive, fandom faves, ‘babies’ or ‘beans’) to get away with and excuse the behaviours of. I don’t need that kinda negative energy sullying my hobby, nor do I need moral superiority that isn’t applied consistently across the board.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — Absolutely! I meticulously fret and check, and cringe when I get a reply and happen to spot errors while rereading what I wrote before it! I edit a lot but don’t always pick up on errors, so I’m more than happy to have it pointed out. Chances are, I’ll be far more brutal to myself about it than anyone else would be!

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — Overall, yeah. I’m not possessive or clingy (I don’t think) and don’t expect the world from people, nor for them to focus on or favour me or be super fast. I just expect the same respect in return. Having said that, I will express it when I don’t like something or it makes me uncomfortable, provided we’re familiar enough, because if we’re strangers I’d feel like I was coming across as entitled to your energy and emotional labour. I do my best to be diplomatic about it though, and rest assured it doesn’t mean I’m forever mad at you or turned off in any way just because I have a small grievance. I just find that being honest with each other rather than letting things pile up and fester makes a friendship more solid, and basically more genuine and long-lasting.

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

Tagged by: @dokuhebi Tagging: Whoever hasn’t done this yet!

#this got super long yikes #{dash games}#{ooc}#{long post}

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talpup · 5 years

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Light In the Darkness: 20

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887595/chapters/55300054

Sorry about the delay, life and writing Erase the Shadow got a hold of me and I completely forgot about updating. Thanks to @captncappuccino for reminding me.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

Taglist: @captncappuccino

20.1

It had been a little less then a week since the attacks on the four Magic Knights bases. The day following the attack Jax had informed them that the Green Mantis, Coral Peacocks, and Purple Orcas had also been attacked at the same time their base had been. By the attackers dress and what those at Magic Investigations had learned the reason given for the attacks had been surmised as a gathering of outlaw gangs and other nefarious criminals attempting to appear as Spade Kingdom Sorcery Lances in the hopes of war between the Clover and Spade kingdoms thus allowing them to freely do as they pleased. Beneath their robes the attackers had worn the usual dusty, tattered garb one would expect a member of an illegal gang to wear. There had been other such evidence that supported the conclusion by Magic Investigations but Teris refused to listen to it. She knew the truth. Or at least some of it. Why Alowishus Spade had given up so many of his followers lives for such a ruse was beyond her. If he truly was a Zealot surely the Spade Kingdom couldn’t be blamed for his actions even if, as his name suggested, he was a descendant of the kingdoms first ruler. That was unless the current King of the Spade Kingdom or some other high ranking official had sanctioned Spades actions. The possibility gave her a chill but no worse then what possible reason the Wizard King had for keeping the truth silent.

Despite all that had happened things at the Black Bulls base had returned to normal, that was other then the fact that Bronn, Olsen, Iban, and Yami were still away on mission. Even the great room looked as if nothing had happened. As did Teris’ bedroom which she wasn’t sure how she felt about. It wasn’t that she had trouble being comfortable in the room or getting to sleep. It just seemed that something visible should have changed; kind of as a marker or symbol for the change that had happened inside her.

“Teris.” Venice called as Teris exited the bedroom. “You sure that’s all you need?”

Teris came back to herself and turned to her friend. “Yes,” she nodded.

“I know you’re not the typical girl. Neither am I. But I gotta say, that’s not much. I came up here with you to help you take your bags down and find I’m not needed,” Venice said.

“You’re always needed.” Teris said only half teasing. “Besides, whatever I forgot or need that isn’t at Nova House I’ll buy in town.”

“Right.” Venice rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I forget you’re a rich royal.”

“A greater complement could not be given.” Teris said her tone joking but feelings serious. “I won’t be long. Three days at most. Hopefully.”

“Home that bad, huh?”

Teris looked around. “This is home.”

“And don’t forget it. I’d be lost without you. Having Abril as the only girl again would be awful.”

“I heard that.” Abril called from her bedroom.

“Get over here and tell Teris bye.”

“Bye.” Abril shouted.

“Bye.” Teris called back laughing. To Venice she said. “Let’s not make a big deal out of this. It’s not like I’m going on a dangerous mission.” She stopped and looked out the window that had a clear view of the wooded path that lead up to the main house.

“It’s alright.” Venice said stepping behind and bumping her with a shoulder. “Yami will be back soon. Probably before you return even.”

“I hope so,” Teris said. “Still--”

“Still, it would’ve been nice if he got back before you had to leave.” Venice went on when Teris had fallen silent. “Yeah, I know. I’ll tell him you miss him and dreamt of his return though.”

“You wouldn’t.” Teris told eyes widening.

“Then hurry up and get going,” Venice smiled. “The sooner you leave. The sooner you’ll get back.” She wrapped her arms around herself and sighed. “Oh! Yami! How I missed you.” She furrowed her brow and deepened her voice, “I missed you too. How about a kiss?” She puckered her lips and made kissing noises.

“Gross.” Abril yelled from her room. “Be gone already.”

20.2

The Black Bulls had rushing out of the dining hall to greet Bronn, Olsen, Iban, and Yami upon their return during dinner the same day Teris had left. Venice had already made the others swear not to tell Yami where Teris was till he had asked and now waited for his query.

When didn’t come Venice demanded. “When are you going to ask about Teris?”

Yami turned to her and blinked. “She’s not here?” He asked despite having noticed her absence immediately and made a show of looking about the great room. “I guess she’s not.” He shrugged.

“Enough teasing Yami.” Venice ordered. “She’s not hiding somewhere. She’s really not here.”

“Okay.” He said and turned to Gendry to ask about Pilfer and Mooshu.

“She’s away visiting family.” Venice told harshly.

“Something about the annual Nova, Silva family meeting.” Tobin added.

At that Yami visibly tensed. He wanted to yelled at Venice and Tobin to shut up. He wanted to shout back that he hoped she and Nozel had a good time. He wanted to forget that he had every heard Nozel say the word Intended. Instead he asked Gendry. “Pilfer or Mooshu give you any trouble?”

Gendry could barely look at Yami while Bran ran out of the room. “Was it something I said?” Yami asked looking at the others.

Hands on hips Venice asked. “You really don’t care?”

“No.” Yami growled turning and stepping to her, Venice being forced back a step by the waves of angry irritation coming off him. “I really don’t. And, I really wish you’d quit yapping about her.”

Venice looked at him deflating. “Yami. What happened?”

Yami turned away but Venice could have sworn she heard him mutter, I grew up, under his breath.

20.3

Dinner at the Nova House was it’s usual quiet, emotionally strenuous affair. Lord Jaxon Nova had not been well enough to join his children at the dinner table but Fyntch had assured Julius and Teris that he would be well enough to receive and welcome the Silva’s when they arrived on October first.

As they retired to the parlor for tea and sweet cakes Fyntch commented to his sister. “You’ve grown. Are you sure the gowns you left in your wardrobe still fit?”

“Don’t know.” Teris said taking a seat by the window, away from the fire.

“Well you certainly didn’t bring enough luggage to have packed proper clothes.” Fyntch said taking the seat their father usually sat in by the fireplace.

“Don’t sit there.” Teris told shaking her head.

“Why not?” Fitch asked. “It’s not as if he’s using it this evening. I often sit here while the two of you are off following your dreams and I’m suck here caring for father alone.”

“No one asked you to take over that role.” Teris said thinking her brother was far from alone in a house full of servants who likely tended to their father while Fyntch did as he pleased. “I would have--”

“What?” Fyntch asked turning to her. “Given up the only chance you have at becoming useful to the kingdom so you can subvert my authority and not see yourself banished for it?”

“You have no authority over me.” Teris said uncomfortably.

“I have the right of heir.” Fyntch said lifting his chin. “Don’t I Julius.”

“Don’t involve me in your argument.” Julius said staring dully at the fire from his seat on the sofa.

“I wasn’t involving you in anything. I was simply asking you to tell the child that--”

“I’m not a child,” Teris snapped.

“With that temper you sure sound like one.” Fyntch tossed back.

“Leave her alone,” Julius moaned.

“You’re such the hero Julius. Your little sister faces three days with the family she is bound to join; and the thought over the remaining three years she has left before that happens is distressing her and all you can muster is a simple irritated plea. That’s more for yourself than her benefit. Tell me, Julius, do you care for the people you hope to lead the way you do our sister? If so you’re bound to make a wonderful Wizard King. Though, if I’m honest, anything you do has to be better then the first son you made. Giving up your heir-ship. Leaving your family in it’s greatest hour of need.”

“Stop it!”

Julius stood he could barely look at Teris who had pleaded on his behave, crying out for Fyntch to cease. “I’m not in the mood for dessert.” He said and quit the room.

Teris stood as well and made to follow.

“Wait.” Fyntch called.

She stopped but didn’t turn back.

“I’ll be sending in one of the maids first thing tomorrow to see you measured for proper outfits,” Fyntch said. “Can’t have you looking like the mess you are now when your future family arrives.”

Teris turned. “You can’t wait to be rid of me. Can you?”

“No,” Fyntch said. “I cannot.”

“And what did I ever do to you to make you hate me so?”

Fyntch thought of the love and favor their mother had shown her. The attention and help Julius had given her. Of their father asking for her and calling her name during his unaided lucid moments. “Exist.

20.4

Yami couldn’t sleep. He knew it would be difficult once they returned and he was faced with Teris but he never imagined just being in the place they had inhabited and shared so time together much would bring it’s own difficulties. Every room he walked in, every seat, every corner, everywhere brought to mind some image of her. Whether it was them talking, or him having watched her play around with another Black Bull, or simply her passing through. Every place in the house seemed to carry a bittersweet memory for him.

He had thought once he had gotten upstairs to the boys wing and the sanctuary of his own room he would be free from her ghost but it followed him in there with the thoughts and dreams he had had of her. Restless, he got up and made his way downstairs thinking some fresh air would do him good. He found himself jealousy grateful for Teris absence, telling himself that by the time she returned he had to have himself under control.

“Gendry? What are you doing here?” Yami asked seeing the man at Pilfer’s kennel petting the Saber Wolf.

Gendry smiled weakly. “He howls at night if I don’t come see him,” he told. “He misses her. We all do.”

Yami sucked in a breath thinking for a moment that he was referring to Teris and could hardly disagree, he hadn’t stop howling on the inside since his talk on the mountain with Bronn and Olsen. But he quickly realized that Gendry was speaking of Mooshu.

“Yami, I’m sorry--”

Yami held up a hand. “The base was attacked. From the sound of it we’re lucky all we lost was Mooshu.” Yami thought of his friends retelling of the events and how Bran had possessed Pilfer and Mooshu to wreck havoc outside and save Teris. He was proud of the boy and his two beasts. He would have gladly given both creatures lives for Teris’ well being. Having only lost Mooshu was a sad but an easy exchange to know that Teris had been saved.

Yami shook his head thinking of the attack on the roadside almost a year ago. “After all my promises that I’d find and kill them they attack here and it’s Teris who saw them dead.”

“While Bran and Pilfer killed the groups leader, Teris killed more then most of us put together,” Gendry said. “And all without her grimoire. If you ask me, that’s more than just royalty being more powerful then the rest of us. That’s her being--”

“Something special,” Yami interrupted.

“I don’t know what happened but it’s obvious you still love her,” Gendry said.

Yami glowered at him. “I’m working on it.”

“On not loving her or not having it written on your face?”

“Both,” Yami growled.

“How’s that going for you?”

“Obviously not very well.”

“Then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do whatever it is you’re trying and failing to do?” Gendry asked. “You love her. She loves you. At least Venice says she does and it’s obvious, even to me, that Teris does like you. Why pull away all of a sudden? You said you were going to marry her. You said you knew you would marry her the day you two met.”

Yami squeezed his eyes shut and turned away lowering his head. “I was a fool.”

“You’re not a fool. You do and say some really stupid things quite often but you’re no fool.”

“In this I was.” Yami said forcefully. “She lied to me. Deceived me.”

Gendry shrugged. “You did the same to her about your injuries from Nozel.”

Yami rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is different.”

“How so?”

“I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work. You think I didn’t argue myself in circles when I found out she’s intended to marry Nozel?”

That brought Gendry up short. “She’s his Intended?”

“And he’s hers cause apparently that’s how it works,” Yami snapped.

Mouth hanging open Gendry slowly shook his head. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” Yami said bitterly feeling worse when Gendry didn’t continue to try and bring him back around. As if in learning that Teris was Nozel’s Intended was the end of it.

After a few moments Gendry asked. “What are you going to do?”

Yami slapped the side of his thigh. “Try to survive living here with her. Avoid her at all costs. Learn to hide how I truly feel until I don’t feel any more. I don’t know Gendry. Got any good ideas?”

#black clover #yami sukehiro #julius novachrono #fanfic #light in the darkness

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katrou1894-blog · 5 years

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Frozen 2 Movie Review (No Spoilers Until Partly Through)

*All rights to this photo belong to Walt Disney Studios Hi Everyone!

Welcome back to Katie’s Messy Little Blog! I want to do something different (again) for this blog post. A movie review!

I, like many others, flocked to the movie theater the weekend before Thanksgiving to see the greatly anticipated Frozen II. (Sorry it took me so long to get this review out btw. The end of November and beginning of December has been super busy! 😅 )

[FYI the first half of this blog will be spoiler-free, so it is safe to read the first half of my blog if you haven’t seen the movie yet and you don’t want spoilers. It will be super obvious when we hit the spoiler part of the blog 😉]

I’m going to start by sharing, I LOVED this movie! I think it is one of the best films that Disney has produced this decade! (Not quite the best because I actually think that spot belongs to Coco, but this would be a close second!) Although Frozen II is a sequel, it really didn’t feel like one to me. Frozen II, of course, has the same cast of characters (with a couple of great additions like Lieutenant Mattias and Bruni), but this film also had almost an entirely different feel to it than its predecessor. Everything from the high fantasy elements of the film to the (at least in my opinion) much more mature soundtrack felt very different, but “good different.”

Frozen II also did an excellent job of tying the two films together. There are quite a few specific call back to the first film, both serious and humorous, which makes the jump from the first to the second film much smoother than it might have been without these specific references. Plus the storyline of Frozen II really is just a continuation of the first film, full of plausible and likely next steps for each of the characters.

Other then plotline, I also really loved some deeper Nordic cultural references and influences that Frozen II includes, the absolutely gorgeous animation (seriously one of the visually prettiest movies I have ever seen!) and the incredible, heartfelt and meaningful music. I could go on about all of these topics for a bit, but I strongly encourage you to go out and see the film and see what I mean for yourself!

SPOILER WARNING!!!!

(If you read past this section and you haven’t seen the film yet it is your own fault that you got Frozen II spoilers 😉 You have been warned.) For those of you who have seen Frozen II or to those of you who don’t care about reading about spoilers, welcome to the spoiler section of this blog! I am going to start my spoiler section by sharing my only real complaint about the film.

Frozen II leaves some VERY IMPORTANT sections of the film unclear. They chose to vaguely tell/hint at major reveals, leaving (I believe) many moviegoers somewhat confused until they later explain what happened in the film. There are two key moments, in particular, in which this happens.

The first being when Elsa awakens the spirits of the forest. This supposedly occurs at the very end of Elsa’s song, “Into the Unknown,” when she reaches out to the phantom voice that has been calling to her and she conjures the weird floating, ice-diamond, element symbols throughout Arendelle. Although this scene was showcased in promotional materials for the film, I was still very confused by this moment until Elsa tells Anna a few minutes later (after the entire population of Arendelle is evacuated to the nearby cliffs) that she had summoned the spirits of the forest (okay…). Admittedly, upon the second viewing of this film (Yes, I have seen it twice already. Judge all you want, I am content with my life choices. 😂) this series of events made much more sense because through the course of “Into the Unknown” Elsa actually dances/interacts with each of the elemental spirits which (at best) hints at Elsa potentially awakening the spirits. (I guess…) I think this really didn’t make sense the first time around because the film hadn’t yet explained what the water horse, hopping flame, the rock giants and the gust of wind were (it had only implied). So (I believe) between the overall vagueness of the scene and the lack of prior explanation of what the spirits are that’s why at least I was (perhaps many others were too) scratching my head at this point.

The other key moment that was unclear was when Elsa discovers that she is the fifth spirit. This occurs during Elsa’s other show stopper tune, “Show Yourself.” I really just don’t think this scene is very clear because one moment Elsa is in the large ice room surrounded by images of her memories, then she is singing with one of her mother’s images. (Who turns out to be the voice calling her?? Also unclear about this, however, the actress who voices Queen Iduna for Frozen II, Evan Rachel Wood, is credited for singing this song so I guess so??) Then suddenly the elemental shape appears (which not so discreetly is in the shape of a snowflake (We all see what you did there Disney)), Elsa steps into the center of this shape, and then she gets, yet another, dramatic makeover while she is singing an epic song. Don’t get me wrong, this is a stunning sequence and a super cool moment, but other then the makeover, a giddy face by Elsa, and a glowing snowflake, but there is no direct explanation on what is happening in this scene until about 20 minutes later when Elsa explains it to Anna. When I first saw this scene I guessed that they were trying to imply that Elsa is the fifth spirit, but it just wasn’t clear.

Now, in defense of this scene, I really am not sure how they could have made it more clear other than maybe Elsa saying to herself, “Of course, it was me all along!” However, I understand why the filmmakers may not have wanted to do this since it would seem quite narcissistic if Elsa had stated this, especially at this exact moment. Nonetheless, this scene did lose some of its power because of the lack of clarity.

I will also say that the overall spirit plotline/origin story is very vague and it leaves me with quite a few questions, specifically about the spirits. I am willing to, for the most part, overlook most of this vagueness because I did overall enjoy the film that much and I think that Disney is really striving for a different kind of storyline with this film because of the spirits and high fantasy elements. [However, if Disney actually answers my questions about the spirits (especially more on why Elsa is a spirit) I would not be opposed to a Frozen III. Assuming, of course, that they stay true to their commitment to high-quality storytelling. Seriously Disney, please don’t just make Frozen III for the money. If you do it well then you can both make great art and make a ton of money.]

Okay, now that I have shared my only real frustration with Frozen II, I want to get back to sharing about the film’s strengths.

The character development in this film is truly amazing! The majority of the film’s focus was, of course, on Elsa and Anna, but there was some really great character development for the beloved side characters in the Frozen gang. Both Olaf and Kristoff really grew in this film and took some maybe slightly unexpected, but interesting and crucial roles within the film.

Olaf in this film is “growing up” and “maturing” which leads him to ask a bunch of questions, to research, and to essentially become a walking and talking fun fact machine. Olaf represents children that have endless questions about the world and how everything works. I love that this is the direction that the filmmakers chose to progress Olaf’s character. Plus they use Olaf’s curiosity of life as an important vessel of key information that the film needs to explain in order for other parts of the film to make sense. This primarily being the concept that “water has memory” which Olaf shares with the group and keeps insisting on throughout the film. (And which he turns out to be right about, at least according to the film.)

[Also I really love Olaf’s silly line, “Samantha?” Towards the beginning of his song “When I Am Older.” It has been reported that Josh Gad, the actor who voices Olaf, did, in fact, improvise this line and the filmmakers loved it so much that it stayed in the film. However, I am burning with the question of Who is Samantha??? For now, I choose to believe that it must be the name of the promised, but not delivered upon, girlfriend of Olaf which was suggested during early discussions of the film who clearly was cut from the end result. ‍💁 ] Kristoff also has some truly incredible character development himself! Kristoff has always had an interesting role within the world of Frozen. He starts off as the brutish, but lovably dorky companion of Anna in her original search for her sister, then through the course of their journey he turns into the true love interest for Anna (leaving Hans already not looking super great before he reveals he is evil). Essentially, this is his entire arch for the first film. Naturally, Frozen II deals with Kristoff’s next character steps. It was absolutely no surprise to me that Kristoff spends the majority of the new film attempting to propose to Anna, however, what is so revolutionary about Kristoff in this film is both his open expression of emotion (since society has for generations and generations told men the bull crap that it “it isn’t manly to have emotions”), the fact that he doesn’t actually journey with Anna through the entirety of her journey and that Kristoff is also extremely supportive of Anna and he really doesn’t try to “save her.”

Kristoff has this amazing love ballad, “Lost in the Woods“ about halfway through the film. I love this scene for two reasons. Firstly, because this is a scene where Kristoff is free to express his emotions and frustrations. Secondly, because this scene is ridiculously funny! Kristoff sings in the woods with the help of his reindeer friends (especially Sven). This song pokes fun at pretty much every boy band ever and every weird and overly dramatic music video ever. Plus, I love the subtle hint at Queen’s famous “Bohemian Rhapsody” music video where Kristoff and his reindeer friend’s heads are highlighted on a black background.

I also love the fact that Kristoff very much has his own journey in this film. He is left behind by Anna, Elsa, and Olaf for the majority of the primary adventure of the film. Now, to be fair, the group (or at least Anna) didn’t want to leave Kristoff behind and the only reason why he was left behind was his own fault because of his weird proposal scheme with a bunch of reindeer. Yet, Kristoff’s alone time allows for his dramatic, but powerful emotional expression. This separation from the rest of the group also allows for Kristoff’s key positioning towards the end of the film in which he is able to help Anna in her mission to destroy the damn.

Kristoff’s unique positioning in the film not only allows him to help Anna destroy things, but it also allows for a subtle, but powerful moment in film history. It is not very often that a female lead is “allowed” by a male lead to go off and just be able to do what she needs to do without the male questioning her. Kristoff in this epic battle sequence does not question Anna at all. He allows her to take control of the situation and supports her in her efforts. This is HUGE! Now, don’t get me wrong, there are other films that have allowed for this before, but not many.

Kristoff also gets huge kudos for delivering (at least in my opinion) the best line in the film. After Anna apologizes for leaving him behind on their journey, Kristoff states, “My love is not fragile.” I love that Disney chose, in this moment of potential conflict, to show the strength of love and a solid relationship, rather than show a potentially distracting fight. I hope this moment will sink into young children’s heads and hopefully help them understand what a healthy and strong relationship could look like.

Anna also has a powerful and interesting journey in this film. Anna is incredibly protective of Elsa throughout the majority of the film. It is clear that Anna is struggling with a massive amount of change that she is facing in the film and she desperately wants to cling to her strong bonds (which she finally got at the end of the first film). Anna is this sort of overprotective, semi-controlling mess throughout the majority of the movie and it isn’t until she loses a couple of these dear bonds that she starts to face and accept her new reality of change. This leads me into possibly my favorite part of the movie, Anna’s song “The Next Right Thing.” This song is directly after Anna loses both Elsa and Olaf, two of the people (I guess I and counting a snowman as a person in this…) that she is most close to. I LOVE the fact that Disney actually dared to create a song about grief and the realities of loss. This is such a powerful and honest song about grief and the grief process. Anna mourns and struggles to find motivation to go on, yet still keeps stepping forward (both metaphorically and physically). This song acknowledges so many of the thoughts and struggles of losing loved ones, but also the active choice to keep pressing on, to do “the next right thing.” This scene is so full of meaning! Everything from the fact that Anna is trying to find her way through a cold wet cave through the course of this scene (stumbling towards the light at the end of the tunnel), to the fact that her costume changes slightly at this point, she loses her purple cape which she wears through the majority of the film and is now left in her black dress (a morning dress perhaps?), to the deeply meaningful lyrics. This is, by far, one of the most powerful scenes in the film and I so deeply value that Disney included this scene about such a difficult topic in such a high profile film. This scene (at least for me) made an already good movie, into a great one. A movie full of meaning and one that genuinely reflects life in many ways. Another favorite aspect of Frozen II that I really love is that each of the major characters in this film goes on their own paths of discovery. I have already discussed most of them. Olaf deals with “growing up” and how to process the world around him. Kristoff struggles with his emotions and feelings of rejection (although he is not actually being rejected, but sometimes we can feel like that even when it is not true). Anna struggles through her co-dependent nature and loss of control. Actually, looking at all of these major themes in the film really makes it quite clear to me that Frozen II is not only an enjoyable film but is also a very mature one.

Now, I’m sure most of you have noticed by now that I haven’t yet discussed Elsa’s journey in this film. I have saved this one for last primarily because Elsa’s journey is, of course, the primary journey of the film, but also because this is the journey that resonated the most with me personally. Elsa experiences this call, one that in the film is literal, but in real life can be a concept that might deeply resonates with some people as this kind of internal call. At the heart of Elsa’s call is the call for deeper meaning and a greater purpose in life. A call “Into the Unknown” of our lives. A craving to go out there and do what we are meant to do. I love that a children’s film brings up this “call.” I know (although I don’t have voices in my head) I personally have experienced a similar kind of craving to go out and do what I am “meant to do.” I believe that this very much can and does exists, although maybe not everyone has it or listens to it. I love that Disney also chose to include this kind of call in a children’s film. Perhaps this will help people to better understand this concept and help to motivate those who hear it, to pursue it. (Such as a young writer working on pursuing her dreams 😉 )

Before I conclude this blog post, I would love to just bring up a few short notable mentions of various other things that I really loved about Frozen II.

1. First off, I deeply appreciate that Disney did NOT take the “long thought to be dead parents are suddenly alive” approach in this film. This is done just a little too often in children’s film and I don’t like it (although some do it better than others, How to Train Your Dragon 2 for example I believe did an excellent job with bringing the long lost mom back, but I digress...). If Disney had taken this approach then it would have totally ruined the blow of the parent’s death in the first film. Plus it would have personally really pissed me off. Primarily because why would parents (especially ones that really needed to be there for their children (particularly a child with special needs) and their kingdom) just not come back? Or at least fight and work their butts off in order to get back to their loved ones? It just wouldn’t have made sense and I am really glad that Disney did not take this root. If anything they confirmed that Anna and Elsa’s parents did, in fact, die at sea. This is tragic, yes, but necessary. (I’m also a firm believer in the concept that the mentor has to die in order for the protagonist to grow to the point they need to be. Frankly, Anna and Elsa’s parents had to die in order for both of them to grow.)

2. I also love the fact that Anna and Elsa don’t actually stay together at the end of the film. They both have larger responsibilities/calling that they have to tend to. Although they, of course, love each other, sometimes physically staying in the same place as your loved ones hold you back from what you are capable of. The end of the film also shows a good example of how to stay connected even when you don’t live together anymore.

3. Okay, this one isn’t directly connected to the film actually because it is about one of the songs that got cut from the final product. So if you listen to the full Frozen II Deluxe Edition of the album (Available on Spotify if you are wondering) then you will come across the song “I Seek the Truth.” I have found this song quite delightful and I highly encourage people to go check it out! This song has intriguing lyrics and gorgeous music. It doesn’t quite have the powerhouse quality that “Into the Unknown” and “Show Yourself” have (which I am guessing is the main reason why this song was cut), but it does have a clever tune, plus it is very enjoyable and meaningful (at least in my opinion).

Overall I LOVED Frozen II and I am super excited for it to join the Disney library. The film is both highly enjoyable and deeply meaningful. Kudos to Disney for yet another masterpiece!

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#frozen ii #disney #blogs

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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 46 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Loki did not know how to respond. “Coronation? But...why, you’re not...”

“Yes, your Coronation, and no, I am not dead, clearly.” Laufey walked around the table that separated them and went closer to his son. “Your actions on the battlefield, the manner in which you carried yourself and your tireless striving to better yourself for our realm prove to me that it is time for me to become the first-ever Jotnar king to step down and not die for my son to succeed me. I am old, weary and weak, I do not have the energy and fortitude to continue this role any longer and you are ready. With a child on the way also, you are the future of our realm. A young king is the way forward,” Laufey explained calmly.

“But you…”

“I am tired, my son. I want to live out the last of my days in the wings, watching Jotunheim flourish under you as it never could under me. I want to watch my grandchildren come to be, to rest after so long of carrying the weight of the woes of the realm. The thoughts of spending the last of my life enjoying my grandchildren as they start theirs, nothing could ever give me greater joy. Already two grow within their dams, with Helbindi and his mate, who knows, perhaps even a third to come in the near future. Watching my sons grow from the small little Jotnar learning the ways of the realms, chasing one another with snowballs into men, fathers and in the case of you, Loki, into a King.”

“Father…” Loki could not process what was being said. He knew that his father saw him as his successor and knew the day would come they would discuss such a thing but to hear him speak of such now, when there seemed little reason to consider it, he could not think of a more competent response. “I am without words.” “There is nothing to say. It is decided. I spoke with Arden on your return. I asked him if he thought you were ready, he agrees with me, you are. You are the way forward for our realm, Loki. With a mate such as Ella, you will bring Jotunheim into a new and glorious era.” Loki did not know what to say with regards to that. He felt a pressure on him which made the feeling he had at the prospect of marrying Ella before he got to know her feel like nothing in comparison to the weight he now felt with his father’s words.

“We must, however, prepare for any that would argue such a decision,” Laufey stated.

Loki frowned. “Why…?” “You know how some are with regards to a grandchild of Odin Allfather being heir to our throne but they are the mere few. You heard Kristoff in the throne room yourself, even your own heritage angers some ignorant few,” Laufey thought for a moment. “For this, I think we require another to add their thoughts. When your mate is rested, I wish to speak with you both regarding the matter. She has a way of looking at situations that we do not, she may see something we do not see. She adds so greatly to everything she involves herself in, I feel she would add to this also.”

Loki found himself nodding before even thinking to answer. It was true, Ella would see angles and aspects they could not. She also brought the wealth of knowledge of dealing with the Aesir court, which he knew were often quite vocal with regards contesting Thor’s readiness to rule, he had heard that from both her and from the camp which he had shared with the Aesir through the war. “I will speak with her upon seeing her again. I just need to deal with another matter beforehand.” “What matter is this?” Loki contemplated saying nothing for a moment before deciding to be honest with his father. Inhaling deeply, he readied himself for the reaction that would come. “I insulted her with my actions, not a moment before coming to see you so I wish to find a way to apologise to her for such with a gift before forcing her to be in my presence again.”

Laufey nodded slightly. “Acknowledging your wrongs and apologising for them is an integral part of being a mate. So long as you did nothing too great, it will be easily sorted once more. She cares deeply for you, that is plain to see. Show her that you are remorseful for your actions and all will return to as it should be soon enough.”

Loki frowned. “If I am honest, Father, I genuinely expected you to admonish me.” “For what? Having an argument with your mate?” Laufey laughed at the thought. “Loki, take it from a Jotnar that has had three mates in his life, if you’re not arguing or disagreeing with at least one of them at some stage or another, you are not actually mates. I am not talking about full-blown rows with shouting or such but you will disagree and you will have times where you will not see eye to eye, that is natural, you are living beings with your own thoughts and opinions. What does matter is acknowledging when you are wrong and trying to fix it.” He put his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Getting her a gift and apologising is what you stated you wished to do and I cannot fault such thoughts, do it and speak with her on this matter.” Loki nodded slightly in agreement. “What do you want from her as a mate?”

His father’s question baffled him slightly. “Sorry?”

“Your mate, what is it you wish to have with her? What sort of a life? How do you see this being in a thousand years or so?” Loki frowned at his father’s words causing Laufey to sigh. “Bertha always was the one I have loved for her knowledge of food and her heart, Farbauti for her kindness, her ability to nurture our home and children, your mother,” Laufey smiled fondly as he thought of Nal. “Norns, she was kindness and intelligence. There was nothing we could not speak about together. My life is enriched by their mere presence. To this day, I think of your mother with only the fondest of memories. When I retire for the evening, I get a sense of happiness knowing Farbauti will tell me of what she has heard since my leaving the throne room today and her ideas for both you and your brother to ready for your respective children. We will speak of how Bertha would be excited and trying to make everything they would have needed and of other matters. But what of you, what do you see as the connection between you and Ella? What makes you happy to see her, what makes you look forward to returning to your rooms later?”

“Well, the child…” “My son, please, please do not tell me that your answer is regarding the child?” Laufey implored, seeing Loki’s face, he sighed. “Loki, if all she is to you is a uterus to carry children and a mind to pick for use as you see fit…” “No, she is not.” Loki was quick to tell his father. It was true, he found himself truly enjoying being around Ella, though if he was honest, he was unsure as to what that was. “It is not like that. I...there is something when I am in her presence, it is like it soothes my mind, this knowledge that she cares so deeply, she was willing to risk her life to remain here because she felt it the right thing to do. She was willing to die for Jotunheim...Her loyalty to duty, it is incredible.” “It is commendable to a fault, but…” “But it's more than that. Her love for Jotunheim, for our home, is incredible, but how she...she knew everything about our realm she could before she ever came, thinking about that alone makes me feel as though she…” Loki thought of the sensation in his stomach in an attempt to explain it. “I cannot put it into words.” “Perhaps it is time to think it over and see if you can. For if you achieve that, you will be better able to embrace what you have and in turn, strengthen and better it. Then perhaps you will not accidentally insult her by making comment on her body changing to grow your child.”

Loki scowled at his father. “I did no such thing.” “Good, do not do that. Take it from one who did, Nal had it that I, the King of the realm was not even allowed on the royal wing, much less my own bed for a week after that.” Loki stared in disbelief at his father. “I was not always the brightest of young men, I learnt more from doing the wrong thing than doing the right, as you can see with regards to my actions in the war. Norns, but I learnt a lesson there.” Loki could not think of an appropriate response. “Go and deal with your mate and discuss what we have spoken about here. With a nod to his father, Loki left, thinking over everything his father said.

He chewed on his father’s words as he left his rooms, thinking of what could make up for how he had insulted Ella as he did so. One thought came to him, so with an idea of what to do and a plan of how to do it, Loki rushed to deal with the situation.

Ella gave her mate a scathing look as he returned to their room. She watched as he cautiously approached her, his demeanour suitably meek as he did so.

“I’m so sorry.” Loki began with those words knowing that they were the least he could say. If she did not listen to them, she would most certainly not listen to anything else he said. “I am so sorry for rubbing your kindness, caring and understanding back in your face as I did. I am sorry I made you feel inferior as a mate, that I put some unrealistic definition of what is masculinity on myself and in doing so, insulted us both. There is no shame in being comforted by a mate, it is one of the reasons we choose mates as we do. You sought to care for my wellbeing and I threw it back at you so callously. I am sorry, Ella.” He noted the harshness in her features become less cold. He walked over, showing her what was in his hands, a significantly sized peculiarly shaped piece of ice. “I got you this, as an apology, but also because I saw it before I left for the war and genuinely thought you would like it.” She took the ice from him and looked at him for a moment. “Wait and watch,” he smiled.

Ella did as he requested, noting that the ice was incredibly thin and was melting quickly. She watched as it revealed its contents to her. “I…” She touched it. “It’s cold?” “It is not diamond, but permanent ice. It cannot melt, even on realms outside of this.” Loki explained. “It is not very common, we rarely mine it as it is a very difficult to source ice and it tends to not really be used for much since the realm is cold enough to simply use the ice around us, but…”

“It’s beautiful.”

Loki took the necklace and tied it around her neck before looking at her again. “It suits you.” “Thank you.” The tension remained between them for a moment, Loki unsure of if he should say anything more. “And thank you for your apology.” She gave him a small smile. “I know males have a skewed ideas of masculinity but you are not any less of a man for finding my shoulder comfortable and for getting startled at waking in your bed and not on a makeshift one on a battlefield, these are normal and entirely understandable. I cannot say I fully comprehend what you have endured, Loki, but I do understand enough to know you are tired, in body and mind and the least I can do is let you rest comfortably.”

Loki felt himself feel more guilty for his actions when he woke. He could see all she wanted was to be there in any manner she could for him. “I apologise again. I...are you alright?” Loki looked worriedly at Ella, stepping forward slightly as she froze, her hand halfway to her stomach.

“I...I think…” She took his hand and placed it to her side. “He moved…” Loki did not know what to say or think, he simply waited. For a solid minute, he kept his hand where Ella had placed it but there was no movement, feeling disheartened, he went to take his hand away but Ella stopped him. “It does not…” The words were taken from him as he felt a slight nudge against his hand, almost too faint to feel. “Is that..?” Another little nudge went against his hand.

“I think someone is reacting to you,” Ella smiled.

“It is not so simple.” “He waited for you to speak to move again,” Ella countered. “It is the first time I have felt movement, he waited for your return.” She looked down to where his hand remained on her stomach. “It’s so peculiar.”

“I do not think he realises such things as my being gone and here.” “It is entirely possible. On your return, my seidr would have surged slightly with my being happy and relieved about it so he would have sensed that if he has any seidr of his own, meaning he would realise it in some manner and my seidr reacting to you being close by, it’s not entirely impossible, pending his seidr’s strength, lest we forget that I caused my own mother to go into premature labour from the force of my own, he could very well sense it.” Loki felt his throat tighten slightly at her words. Not because of their son reacting, which was incredible in itself, but her admitting her seidr would react to her joy at him being back. He thought of when he left in the past to go to different parts of the realm on matters for different reasons, none he had shared his time with before Ella seemed to react as she had on his return, even Angrboða , who he had thought had loved him, seemed to be happy that her amusement had returned more than she was happy to see him. Ella admitting that she was so happy to see him that her seidr reacted to his return. He looked into her eyes to see that her words were genuine. He swallowed. “Thank you.” “Don’t cry. Your reputation is already in tatters because you showed some form of emotion already today.”

Though her voice was sarcastic, there was no denying that her eyes showed the words were in jest.

Loki did not even think about what he was doing as he chuckled before cupping her face with the hand that was not holding her stomach where their son had kicked, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to hers.

Ella was unsure of what to say or do. She knew that the act was one of deep caring and love in Jotnar mates, she never expected Loki to do such a thing, taking her completely by surprise as he sighed contently as he remained still.

#Loki #other #submission #Submitted fic #wolfpawn #chapter 46 #Pride and Prejudice

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mayquita · 6 years

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Pictures of Reality (5/16)

Thank you so much to everyone for giving this story a chance. Thanks for your kudos, likes, reblogs and for your comments, they mean the world to me.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta @jarienn972 I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. I love the art that accompanies this chapter, with that reddish halo... for reasons. Also, this photoset also serves for the next chapter. (I'm including it at the end because it's a bit spoilery)

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3 / Art for chapter 4

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow.

Word count: ~ 7200 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

What to expect from this chapter? We will know a bit more about the Nolans and the reason why they returned to Storybrooke. And Emma and Killian continue to get to know each other while sharing pieces of their pasts and… maybe something else. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you like it.

CHAPTER 4

David Nolan. London, ten months ago

That day had dawned like any other. David had followed his established routines, gone to work at the newspaper, had lunch with Killian — actually lunch was just an excuse to take his friend away from his own miseries for a while at least — and finally, got home to spend the rest of the day with his wife.

What David could never have imagined when he woke up that morning was that his life was going to be shaken, that a radical change that he had not waited for had already begun to take shape. And it all started, once again, with a phone call.

Maybe it was intuition or anticipation. The truth was that when he came through the door that day, a strange sensation seized him, causing his stomach to tighten and urging him to go find Mary Margaret.

His suspicions became more intense when he found his wife in the middle of their living room, holding the phone against her chest with both hands, her gaze absent, her face pale.

He stopped short, while all the air left his lungs and a lump formed in his throat, preventing him from emitting any words. His mind began to imagine horrible scenarios, with Killian in the role of the main character in most cases —Old habits die hard. But it can't be, he told himself in an attempt to suppress those paralyzing thoughts. He is here, safe and sound. No more danger stalking him.

When she realized his presence her eyes sought his. "It was Regina..." Mary Margaret's voice trailed off as her gaze seemed lost again, as if she was still trying to process the information obtained.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his mind having trouble identifying the name in the first place. The memories began to come gradually though, making his features harden as old demons from the past threatened to surface.

"Regina... She's found her, David. It seems that she found her way back." Mary Margaret continued with a tiny voice, almost a whisper, but this time with a different shade, loaded with something similar to hope. He was still processing her words when her eyes sought his again. And that's when he knew it.

A myriad of questions swarmed in his mind, as different sensations danced inside him and his head began to spin to such an extent that he had to lean on a nearby piece of furniture, his legs suddenly too weak to support him. "We have to go back." He managed to mutter as he felt, for the first time in twenty-seven years, the hole in his heart becoming less deep, filled instead with a hope he had never dared to express out loud. "We have to go back." He repeated, this time with more emphasis.

It was then that his wife rushed towards him, burying her head in his chest and emitting a broken sob. As David wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, a new thought crossed his mind. They could not leave Killian here. Not now, when he was still struggling to recover. They had to find a way to convince him to accompany them. There was no longer anything or anyone to tie him to London. Maybe the time had come for a new beginning, a fresh start, for all of them. Perhaps returning to Storybrooke also meant that they would finally reach that promising future it had been denied to them so many times before.

David Nolan. Storybrooke - November 21, 2017

It was a sunny and bright day, unusual for the end of November and despite the fact that the sun had already started its descent, anticipating his farewell until the next day. Those were the thoughts of David Nolan as he walked through the streets of Storybrooke, a permanent smile pulling at his lips.

It was as if that black cloud that had hovered over them from the moment they knew the sad reality, making their days more somber, had decided to give them a break in the form of a beautiful day that encouraged walking despite the almost wintry cold, the rays of the sun acting like little rays of hope traveling directly to his heart.

Even though he had not expected such a scenario when they both decided to return, he would never regret having made that decision, not when it felt so right to come back home, to the place where they had experienced their best and also their worst moments.

By the time they had crossed the road after passing the welcome sign, a warm feeling had invaded his body, as a reminder that they were coming home.

That feeling not only had not changed four months later, but had intensified. Walking through the same streets where they had grown up, chatting with those who had been their neighbors for years, brought back old memories that he thought were forgotten. While visiting the old places for which time seemed to have not passed, he maintained a state of certain calm, which at least served to compensate for the huge weight of guilt that had fallen upon them the moment they discovered the truth...

The sound of voices brought him back to reality. David turned his head in the direction of the sounds and what he found made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the street, while his heart beat hard against his chest.

She was there, right in front of him, sitting in one of Granny's patio chairs. And there was someone else accompanying her - his friend Killian Jones.

David narrowed his eyes, watching them carefully as he moved discreetly with the goal of remaining half-hidden. He should not be surprised to see them together, he thought, trying to convince himself. Killian had barely given explanations about the development of the course, but David knew that she was attending. Something did not quite fit though, since today was Tuesday and classes were held on Saturdays. Damn Killian and his stubbornness to keep things to himself! When would he realize that they were there to help? That they really cared about him as a member of their family?

Suddenly all his bad thoughts vanished when something caught his attention, causing him to almost have to suppress a gasp of surprise. Killian's features lit up, his lips drawing a genuine smile, directed at her. Something that, unfortunately, David barely remembered witnessing, after so many years of at best, fake smiles or no smile at all.

The angle he was in did not allow him to see her features and he had no intention of moving to avoid revealing his position. Only a glimpse of her profile was in sight as well as her golden hair, something he had learned to recognize from the distance during these four months. Maybe it was just hope or maybe intuition, but he felt a tug in his stomach, trying to convince him that her expression would probably match the one of his friend.

The day became even brighter, the sunlight on its descent causing his friend's eyes to shine in a special way as David's heart began to flutter with the closest thing to hope that he had felt from the moment that they left London. In spite of the guilt, of their perpetual regret and the huge hole in his heart, it seemed that all was not lost after all. Maybe fate had decided that two of the most important people in his life had crossed paths. Maybe they could help heal each other. Maybe he and his wife could still be forgiven when the time to confess came.

After one last look at the scene before him, David turned around in the direction of his apartment. He could not wait to tell Mary Margaret the news. Knowing his wife, he was sure that this information would serve to alleviate the perpetual pain that she had experienced at that moment when they both had discovered the truth.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - November 21, 2017

"So, did I get my pass in the close-ups and gastronomic photography test, professor?"

The way Emma asked, half-mocking as she uttered the last word, half-flirting disguised in the cadence of her voice, did a strange thing in Killian's heart. He quickly ignored it and focused instead on the way the sun's rays bathed Emma's skin in their descent, giving her a special aura, as if she herself glowed. No, that definitely did not help.

"I reserve my opinion for when I have checked the results on a somewhat larger screen, love." He pointed to the camera on the table that separated them. "But I think I can anticipate that the result will be quite satisfactory." He almost purred the words. Two could play this kind of flirting game. And if the faint pink color that adorned her cheeks was any indication, it seemed that Emma wasn't going to go through this unaffected.

Something had changed since last Tuesday, it was evident. He had not yet been able —or had not dared— to discern what had been the reason for that change between them. Maybe her acceptance of his prosthesis, her desire to learn, the glimpses she had dropped on her past. Maybe it had been the way her hair had moved with the rhythm of the wind, generating a hypnotic dance that had made him unable to look away. Maybe it had been the special glint in her eyes, the fierceness of her features while she had tried, and succeeded in most cases, to put into practice what he had taught her.

Killian felt more and more connected to her, bewitched in some way by her beauty, attracted by her indisputable hidden potential, eager to bring it up, but above all, determined to know those little secrets - the experiences that she had experienced and had molded her into the most interesting and enigmatic person that had crossed him in a long, long time.

Perhaps, for this reason, he did not resign himself to having their meetings happen only once a week, surrounded by other people. Instead, he decided to add a new routine to his schedule, assigning Tuesdays to continue with additional classes for her, provided she was willing, of course. To his relief, she had accepted without a hint of doubt.

The grilled cheese's picture she had sent him a few days ago was the trigger for the idea that began to set in his mind. He just needed an excuse and if he had to resort to photos of food, so be it. It was how they had finished that Tuesday at Granny's, doing close-up practices of the different foods served by an amused waitress, Ruby, who turned out to be not only Emma's friend, but the person who had gifted her the course, something he would be eternally grateful for.

While they shared a hot coffee once the practice ended, Killian realized something he had not thought about until then. There was a concrete reason why he was enjoying these classes so much. That reason was not only because he seemed to have found the talent hidden in the person of Emma Swan. Nor that he was somehow captivated by her beauty or her personality. The real reason he looked forward to these meetings was that, during these hours, he allowed himself to forget, to pretend that his life was simple and quiet, that there were no demons tormenting him, that the darkness had not taken over almost the entirety of his thoughts and his heart. For a few hours a week, he felt lighter, more optimistic, as he absorbed the rays of hope emitted by Emma in the form of a smile, a look or a good photograph.

He was aware that these moments were nothing but a mirage, a small oasis in the middle of the arid desert his soul had been transformed into long ago. He knew that when he returned to the solitude of his apartment, he would feel again the weight of the world on his shoulders. But at least during those moments, he allowed himself to dream about the possibility of a not so dark future.

"I know you Brits don't celebrate it, but do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?" Her question brought him back, driving him away from those troubled thoughts. Instead, his mind traveled to London, his lips drawing a longing smile.

"On the contrary, love, I'm quite familiar with that celebration."

"Oh." Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as her gaze held his, as if she was waiting for an explanation.

A warm feeling ran through his veins to his heart as a myriad of memories crowded his head. Even though it had been almost twenty years, he could still sense the aroma that came from the Nolans' kitchen that first time he and his brother were invited to celebrate that festivity.

That had been the first of many celebrations, the four of them together against the world. Killian had to blink a couple of times, his eyes stinging, suddenly overwhelmed by memories and sensations. Even after, when everything had gone to hell, his friends always managed to count on him on that special occasion, although he had nothing to be grateful for anymore.

Emma must have detected his condition because her features softened, a shadow of something similar to understanding crossed her gaze. She remained expectant, so he felt the need to offer some explanation. Before answering though, he had to swallow the lump formed in his throat. "My friends, the Nolans. They are Americans and let's say they dragged us into this tradition of yours."

"At least one of us has been fortunate in that regard." Her voice came in a murmur so faint that Killian thought for a moment he had imagined the words. His eyes narrowed as he studied her features for some hint, but Emma suddenly seemed very interested in the contents of her mug, her hair covering part of her face.

Her apparent involuntary confession, far from intimidating him, caused his curiosity to increase, as well as an innate protective instinct towards her, despite her appearance of a strong and tough woman. Killian clenched his jaw and ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to stop his urge to curl it into a fist while he wondered, not for the first time, what Emma was hiding behind that mask of determination. Before he could inquire though, she continued talking.

"I've been invited to Granny's." She gestured to the place in front. "Ruby told me that they make a special dinner that day for... for people like me." Her lips curled into a tiny smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It will be fun." She assured, although it seemed that she was trying to convince herself.

For people like me... The realization behind the meaning of her words hit him hard. People away from their family? Or rather without family at all? "I don't doubt it, love. Something tells me that any party that Ruby attends will be quite an event. Also, you can practice social photographs, aye?" Killian suggested, in an attempt to relieve the tension that seemed to have fallen on her shoulders. He knew from experience that it was not convenient to push on these occasions and they barely knew each other yet.

"Do you always keep photography in mind?" She teased with an arched brow, clearly relieved by the change of subject. "Not always, love. Sometimes I sleep." He replied through a grin, earning a giggle on her part. A beautiful sound, he thought, matching her beautiful features once the tension disappeared from her face. A small vestige remained in her eyes though, like a halo of sadness that made them look dangerously like the gaze that the mirror returned every time he looked at his reflection. A lost girl. He was now sure of that. The need to know more about Emma increased. But that would have to wait until the following week because, due to the Thanksgiving holiday, he would not teach classes this Saturday. Suddenly, the idea of spending a whole week without seeing those enigmatic green eyes and hearing her suggestive voice didn't seem appealing at all.

How was the party at Granny's, love? KJ

Ask me tomorrow, when I have recovered from the hangover. ES

No Black Friday, then? KJ

Don't tell me that the Nolans have also taught you that tradition. ES

No, that's the fault of your movies. KJ

How was your dinner, by the way? ES

Conventional, I suppose. Good food and good company. KJ

Turkey? ES

Turkey. KJ

Since we are talking about Thanksgiving I'd like to make a suggestion. KJ

I'm listening, or reading, whatever... ES

There will be no classes tomorrow but I'd like to show you something that I think you will appreciate. KJ

Photography related? ES

Always. KJ

Okay. ES

Good. See you on Saturday, in my apartment. I'll send you the address. KJ

"May I come in?"

"Sure."

Killian realized that he had been frozen in the hall of his apartment maybe longer than necessary. He shook his head slightly and stepped aside so Emma could enter.

He still couldn't believe not only that Emma had accepted, but that he had made the offer in the first place. In his defense, it had been an improvised decision. While he had been chatting with Emma the day before, he had noticed his collection of cameras which were placed on a shelf in a privileged place in his living room. Killian had wondered what Emma's reaction would be if she saw those devices. And just like that, his fingers had begun to slide across the screen, offering the proposal to her.

"As you can see, it's a really small place." He commented while making a gesture encompassing the entire room in an attempt to break the ice.

"It's fine. My apartment is even smaller." Emma shrugged, offering him a shy smile. It seemed obvious that he was not the only nervous person in this awkward situation. Maybe that shouldn't be a relief, but in his case, it served to loosen a bit the nerves that had gripped his stomach.

"May I?" He asked, pointing to her jacket. She nodded as she took off it and handed it to him. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back in a second." Killian hung the jacket on the rack near the front door and headed toward the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink? Beer, coffee, tea?"

"A beer is fine, thank you."

Once in the momentary shelter of his kitchen, Killian forced himself to take two deep breaths as he took a long sip of his beer in an attempt to appease his nerves - or gain enough confidence to not behave like a complete fool in front of her.

The butterflies he had begun to feel in his stomach every time she was in his presence were not going to make it easy for him - that was obvious. From the moment the bell had rung, they had begun to flap furiously as he wondered if it had really been a good idea to invite Emma to his apartment.

He had only known her for three weeks, but that time had been enough for her to get under his skin in such a way as to make him unable to think of anything other than her and how he could help her enhance her talent.

At least the excuse of photography always existed between them, although he was fully aware that he was entering hazardous waters - and he was in danger of sinking beyond repair. The question was, was he willing to take the risk given all the demons that he was already carrying? He did not even have the courage to consider an answer.

After taking another swig of his beer, hoping that the bitter liquid would sweep away all his worries, he headed back to the living room, schooling his features so as not to betray his nervousness.

Kilian found Emma still standing, looking at some of the photos that were hanging on the wall. The moment she felt his presence, she turned around, searching his gaze.

"Have you brought all these photos from London?" She asked as she accepted the beer and brought the bottle to her mouth.

"Eh, no." Killian scratched behind his ear, as he put all his effort into diverting his gaze from her lips. "My friends chose the apartment and they even took care of the decoration. When I arrived, I just had to unpack." Mary Margaret had even filled the refrigerator and cupboards, turning an empty apartment into a place with a certain soul, he recalled as a wave of gratitude towards his friends washed over him.

"But you are the one who took the pictures, aren't you?" There was a special glow in her eyes, perhaps admiration? Killian wasn't sure.

"Aye."

Indeed, he had made all those photographs. David and Mary Margaret had been careful enough to choose them, making sure that there was no trace of desolation or sadness in them, just positivity, good memories and a hint of longing.

There were some black and white portraits that he had taken some time ago of his friends and even some self-portraits. David had also hung a couple of landscape photos that Killian had taken in his hometown, the place where, despite the abandonment and suffering he and Liam had endured, they had lived their childhoods, generating unforgettable family memories.

"They're good, Jones." Emma smiled at him, the brightness of her eyes increasing. "Although I guess you already know that."

"Well, I've been told a couple of times." He commented with ill-concealed pride, putting on again the mask of self-confidence, which had almost disappeared when the wave of memories had taken hold of him.

"So, were these photos what you wanted to show me? Because I must admit that I'm quite impressed. You could organize an exhibition with just this material." He should be used to the compliments he received for his work, but there was something in Emma, maybe the intensity of her gaze, maybe the glimpse of admiration in her voice, that caused his stomach to flutter without stopping while his chest swelled with pride and he lost the ability to function properly.

"Not really." They both placed the beers on the coffee table and Killian approached her, guiding her to the opposite wall, his hand in contact with the small of her back sending electric shocks all over his body. His heart thudded in his chest, in anticipation of what her reaction would be when she saw the cameras.

Once again, Emma managed to surprise him, but Killian was not sure if it was in a good way. The moment her gaze fell on the devices, her eyes widened slightly, as she extended a hand, sliding her fingers almost reverently over one of the cameras - an old Polaroid.

Killian's eyebrows went together as he studied her expression for some clue. It seemed that she was making great efforts not to burst into tears, her lips pressed together, her chin trembling subtly, her gaze thousands of miles away.

"Are you okay, Swan?" He couldn't help the concern in his voice as, in an impulse, his hand reached for her.

"I grew up in the foster care system..." She snapped suddenly but then trailed off, her gaze still lost. She blinked a couple of times and then looked up, her lips curving into a tiny smile. "This camera, or one of this kind, was the first purchase I made when I got some money."

So that was it, she was an orphan. Just like him. A shadow of something deep crossed her gaze, as an indication that her life had been far from pleasant. His heart tightened in his chest as a wave of sympathy towards her washed over him. He knew from his own experience that what she least needed at that moment was compassion. If she had decided to trust him, it was for some different reason and he had no intention of disappointing her. Once again, the photography came to his rescue.

"Do you still have it? The camera?" He asked in a soft tone as he gently squeezed her arm and gave her a smile that he hoped was comforting enough.

She shook her head while exhaling deeply. "No. I may have lost it when I was transferred from one house to another, but I still have the pictures I took with it." She paused for a moment while looking thoughtful, then continued talking, looking again at his gaze. "I had several cameras later until finally, I decided to just stick with the phone. A single object that included several functions seemed the most affordable option." She shrugged as if trying to justify herself. "But I still remember that camera and how powerful I felt when the image appeared in front of me in just a few minutes. It was like magic." Her smile became more genuine as a spark appeared in her eyes.

Killian was still surprised by the effect that photography seemed to have on them, as well as the strong connection between them, to the point of sharing the memories of their first camera. It was as if they had found the same way to channel their fears or frustrations, making their internal demons more bearable. Maybe it was really destiny who had decided that the path of these two lost souls would cross, he thought as a flame of hope seemed to intensify in his heart. It was still faint, but he was determined to cling to it with all his might.

Perhaps the time had come for him to also offer her some glimpse of his past, although he sensed that she knew much more about him than the other way around. "It's funny, Swan, because this was also the first camera I got. I was ten when my father abandoned us. My brother..." he trailed off as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Despite the fact that almost ten years had passed since Liam's death, he still felt his loss in the form of a fresh wound that never completely healed.

This time it was her turn to stretch out her arm, her hand searching for his as she squeezed it lightly. "He was working from dusk to dawn during the following months, and the first thing he got when he managed to save some money was this camera, trusting that maybe I would be distracted enough to forget the abandonment and its implications."

"Did it work?" Emma asked softly, her fingers drawing delicate patterns on the skin of his hand, causing a warm sensation to spread through his body, managing to stop the escalation of overwhelming thoughts that had begun to take hold of him.

"Aye. A new world opened before me the instant I realized I was able to capture small moments and make them eternal." His mind traveled to that small coastal town of England, the place where he grew up, while remembering fondly those years in which, despite the difficulties, he still had not lost hope and was able to look at the world with optimism through the lens of his camera.

They remained silent for a few seconds, their hands still intertwined as they watched the rest of the cameras. "We make quite the pair, right?" Emma commented in a light tone that still hid some vestige of sadness but at least she managed to relieve the tension, something to which he responded with a grateful smile. Her gaze then drifted to another of the cameras, an old Leica, one of his favorites.

"Whoa, this camera seems almost like a collector's." Her face lit up as she reached up to the camera, but her hand stopped before she touched the object. "May l?" She asked, hesitant.

"Sure, love. You can even take pictures with it."

"Are you sure?" She seemed reluctant, as if she did not dare touch the camera for fear of breaking it or something. If she knew the experiences that this camera had witnessed... It was a survivor, like its owner.

"I don't have these cameras as simple collection pieces, but as memories and as tools. Of course you can use them." Killian affirmed while he himself took the camera, and passed it to Emma.

"These cameras have traveled with you then? Yes?" She asked as she accepted the camera and held it carefully.

"Aye, and not only on my trip from London. Many of them have been my faithful companions on my numerous trips." And they are my only possessions, but he would not comment it out loud, not now that they had managed to channel the conversation, leaving their ghosts of the past forgotten, at least for a while.

During the following minutes, Emma took pictures with the Leica while Killian explained the mechanisms and differences with a digital camera. It took a while for her to adapt at first, but once she managed to lose her fear of the object, she was gaining confidence until it seemed natural, even giving him instructions on how he should position himself while he was acting as an improvised model. He happily complied, of course, his stomach fluttering fiercely as his heart swelled a little with admiration towards this strong and determined woman who had managed to overcome her past.

Time flew by and before they knew it the film was finished. Killian wasn't willing to let her go so soon, though. Luckily for him, he still had some other resources up his sleeve.

"What do you think if we continue with our lesson? The next step would be to learn how to develop photographs." He suggested while arching his eyebrows.

"You mean the photos of this film?" Her eyes sparkled with excitement, while she pointed to the camera she still held.

"No, sadly." He rubbed the back of his head while he pursed his lips in apology. "That would take us hours or days, but I can teach you the basics and maybe you can come back another day to develop your photo film."

A shadow of disappointment crossed her face, but she seemed to recover quickly. "Wait a minute... Do you mean that you have a dark room like those that come out in the movies? With trays of chemical solutions and all that stuff?" Emma practically bounced excitedly as her face lit up.

"There is only one way to find out." Killian offered her his hand which Emma gladly accepted as she let herself be guided. While holding her hand, Killian could feel the warmth of her touch, his heart beating hard against his chest. He ignored the physical reactions of his body and focused on continuing to surprise Emma with his knowledge. That was the only thing that really mattered, wasn't it?

"Whoa, you definitely take photography seriously." Emma commented as soon as they reached the room. "It's all very professional, isn't it?" Before he could respond to the obvious, Emma continued talking. "Even at the risk of looking a little obsessed with your trip from London, did you bring all this from there - all the liquids and that huge equipment?"

Her comment and her bemused expression drew a deep chuckle from his chest. "That equipment is called enlarger and I'm afraid that was also David's work." His smile grew smaller as he remembered his friend's reasons. "It was his way of encouraging me to continue taking pictures after..." His voice trailed off as he raised his left arm showing his prosthesis.

An awkward silence fell over them as he cursed inwardly and wished that the darkroom had been in fact - dark- in order to hide his expression of embarrassment.

He cast a sidelong glance at Emma, to check her reaction. She bit her bottom lip, as if she was thinking what to say. Finally, she was the one who broke the silence. "They seem like the best friends. You're lucky in that regard, Jones."

"That I am." It was all he managed to say without having to reveal his emotions too much.

"By the way, I don't know if this would sound insensitive. As you may have deduced, my social skills are not my forte... Anyway…, you are perfectly capable of doing awesome photos with just one hand. Your friends know it. I know it. Now you just have to convince yourself as well."

This time it was she who reached for his hand and entwined her fingers with his, her lips drawing a warm smile. A wave of gratitude seized him, as well as an almost unstoppable desire to do something that he would later regret when his gaze drifted to her lips.

Instead, he cleared his throat and, after offering her a smile of gratitude, he commented, his voice coming in a slightly hoarse tone than usual. "Shall we continue with the lesson, Swan?"

He explained to her as best he could the process of developing and printing photographs, while they practiced with some old negatives. Maybe it was their proximity, maybe the fact that they were together in a space so small and dark, illuminated only by a lamp that emitted a dim, reddish light. The fact was that he felt less and less able to concentrate on his task when the only thing he could feel was the warmth that emanated from her body, her essence and her soft voice.

There was a moment when he unconsciously placed his prosthesis on her waist while he reached for a pair of tweezers. This time however, the contact did not make her jump by surprise, but pulled her even closer to him. It was like that, with his left arm surrounding her waist while she leaned lightly on his side, witnessing the appearance of the first images on photographic paper.

"It's like magic." She muttered as she stared at the trays that contained the newly printed photographs. He, however, was unable to look at anything other than her. Despite the semi-darkness that surrounded them, the red light allowed him to appreciate her profile with relative clarity. It was as if, once they had entered the darkroom, a spell of attraction towards her had fallen on him, rendering him unable to function properly when all thoughts were filled with her.

"Thank you, Killian." Her gaze finally strayed from the trays to find his. "For everything."

Her proximity was driving him crazy, causing the butterflies of his stomach to flap mercilessly while his heart threatened to come out of his chest. Maybe for that reason, he put on the mask of seduction while leaning slightly towards her, tapping his lips with his fingers. "Well, maybe gratitude is in order now that we're in Thanksgiving week."

"Yeah, that's what the 'thank you' was for."

He was playing with fire, but something had seized him, making him unable to properly process what was happening, so he let himself be carried away by his instincts. The time to assume the consequences would follow later.

"That all my masterclass is worth to you?"

He murmured the words full of intention and stepped forward, but far from intimidating Emma, he seemed to capture her interest, since, after rolling her eyes, she addressed him in a no less seductive tone. "Please... You couldn't handle it."

Killian shortened the distance between them even more, his gaze traveling briefly from her lips to her eyes, the faint reddish lighting doing wonders on her face, making it even more attractive "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it." He whispered with a deliberate emphasis on the final t, his eyes never leaving hers.

Emma seemed to accept the challenge though since, almost without giving him time to react, she grabbed him by the t-shirt and crushed his lips with her own in a demanding and heated kiss. Despite the initial shock, Killian acted quickly, cradling the back of her head with his right hand as he circled her waist with his left arm, pushing her even closer to him.

Her intoxicating taste, as well as the softness of her lips, caused his head to spin. He moaned against her mouth and angled his head to allow her deeper, causing his blood to run burning through his veins, spreading a warmth all over his body.

Just as their tongues began their first dance together, Emma pushed back, resting her forehead against his, both trying to catch their breaths. "That was..." His voice sounded like a muffled murmur, still too entranced by what had just happened.

"A one-time thing..." She breathed against his lips as she released the grip on his shirt and started to move away. "I..." The gloom of the room did not allow him to clearly observe her features, and he almost was grateful for it, because he was not sure he could bear to see the regret written over her face. "...I have to go."

Before he could react though, she had already left, leaving him alone, surrounded by darkness, while his lips tingled and his whole body hummed, craving more kisses like that.

Killian shook his head as his heart tightened in his chest, an overwhelming thought crossing his mind. He not only hadn't been able to handle it, but was probably also making the biggest mistake of his life. In no way could he develop feelings for anyone, much less for Emma Swan. He was not going to drag her into his spiral of misery.

Even so, although he was sure that Emma had made the right decision to leave, that did not stop him from feeling for a few seconds as if the last pieces of a complex puzzle had finally fit. Now, however, he ran the risk of that puzzle blowing to even smaller bits, making it impossible for the pieces to come together again. He let out a deep exhale as he rubbed his lips with his fingers, the vestige of her taste still lingering. He was so fucked up.

Is our exclusive Tuesday class still remaining? KJ

What did you have in mind? ES

Nature photos? KJ

Okay. ES

Good. See you on Tuesday. KJ

Even though Emma had confirmed that she would come, Killian was not entirely sure, since, after the kiss-incident, they hadn't seen each other again, nor had they maintained any communication except for the brief exchange of texts the other day.

For that reason, when he saw her appear at the entrance to the park in all her glory, he couldn't prevent a wide grin appearing on his face. He quickly schooled his features so as not to give away his excitement. Only a tiny smile remained on his face when his gaze met hers.

She was stunning that afternoon. Her long golden hair fell in gentle waves over her shoulders, while the unusual sun of late November illuminated her face. Despite her serious expression, her eyes showed a special brightness that he could not decipher. He had to suppress the urge to grab the camera and immortalize the fire in her gaze.

"Hi."

"Hey." She crossed her arms over her chest in a somewhat defensive manner, a faint crease between her eyebrows, her lips pressed together.

Although maybe she should be the one to explain, since it was she who started the kiss in the first place and who left after not giving them time to clarify what happened, he was in need of breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them. He swallowed hard as he scratched behind his ear and his lips drew a small smile. "About the other day..."

"It was just a kiss." She cut him off abruptly. A sigh escaped her mouth before she continued as she shoved her hands in her back pockets and tilted her head slightly, seeking his gaze. "Look, the other day was a mistake... I mean, it's not going to happen again. It's better if we keep this relationship..." She gestured with her hand pointing to both of them "...if stay in that, in something merely educational. "

"Educational..." He echoed her word as he narrowed his eyes, studying her features in search of something, some hint that her feelings might be similar to his own. "There is no room for friendship then?" Killian challenged, holding her gaze. After a few seconds, she was the first to look away, while Killian counted it as a small victory. "Do you want me to treat you as a mere student, Swan?"

"I don't know." She exhaled deeply, rubbing her forehead with her hand, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "It's complicated, and I don't want complications in my life, not now when I've found some kind of stability, and I don't want to screw things up in class." Her eyes returned to look for his and he held her gaze, keeping silent. "So, can we leave things as they are, forget what happened and... we'll keep figuring it out along the way? Please?" Her voice sounded almost like a plea as she bit her lower lip and gave him a disarming look.

"As you wish." He showed his agreement with a slight bow of his head. Maybe it was the spark he detected in her green eyes, just a glimpse, but promising enough, maybe the inability he felt to deny her anything, or maybe it was the fact that she was right. The fact was that Killian decided to accept her conditions, since she left the door open to maintain this kind of friendship that had been created between them. It was better for both of them if they slowed down any feelings that had started to blossom.

"Good..." Her smile of relief did nothing to calm his inner turmoil, though. "What do you think if we start the lesson, professor?"

He tried to concentrate on the practices while making sure that she understood all his explanations, maintaining a strictly professional image. But it was hard, almost torture, because each time their hands accidentally touched, he felt like an electric shock ran through his body. Each time he caught a glimpse of her gaze, his mind imagined how her eyes would shine under more pleasurable situations. Each time he felt his body next to hers, he felt her warmth radiating from her and attracting him like a magnet.

At the end of the class, he found himself with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was willing to distance himself from her, and thereby release all the accumulated tension. On the other hand, the mere thought of not seeing her until the following Saturday left his body tingling as his heart beat hard.

Just as they were saying goodbye until the following Saturday, a thought crossed his mind, hitting him hard to the point of feeling as if all the air had escaped his lungs. The Friday before his next class would be the tenth anniversary of his brother's death. The memory fell on him like a slab, his old demons threatening to surface with a show of all their destructive potential. For the first time in a long time though, he thought it might be more bearable for him to deal with the suffering of remembering his brother's unjust death, because in this way his mind would be distracted, leaving no room to think about Emma Swan and his possible feelings towards her.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)

What to expect from the next chapter? Angst is coming... We will know how Killian deals with the anniversary of Liam's death and how that leads him to a confrontation with David. He may find unexpected support in one of his students...

#cs ff #cs au #csbb #captain swan ff #captain swan #mayquita writes #my cs writings #cs au ff #csbb 2018 #pictures of reality

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impurelilac · 6 years

Text

Requiem of a Shattered Flower

Cogito, ergo sum

Can it be more generic than that? I don’t know, although I won’t disagree that for a simple sentence, it carries a lot of meaning.

Who am I? It would be simple to make an introduction after that. But then we ignore the entire weight of the question itself.

I’ll try to answer atleast for your sake, as I am the one making the choice to violate the status quo.

To really understand this post, I feel I need to split it into two parts:

Whom am I?

and

Why do I write?

Some context could probably help however. First off I am not a skilled writer, I won’t claim that I am nor pretend to be. That is not to deny however my dream to create something, eventually. However I feel that the topic of creation will need a post for itself and doesn’t really belong here. It is also late in the night where I am, so errors should be expected. Before I also continue, I should warn that this most likely, like probably most of my post will have trigger warnings. I can atleast say that this one will deal with some slight NSFW and depression. However I will do my best to properly catalogue and present them at the start of future posts.

Why does a flower have a soul?

I can’t answer that. I am sorry.

However I can answer some things. I was born in the waning years of the 20th century, the year was 1998. The family I belonged to was upper working class or lower middle class, I am still not really sure where I belong or if I put too much effort in valuing “class”. My upbringing was fairly secure due to this, it was safe and I felt safe. That meant a lot I to my younger self even if I didn’t reflect upon it. My whole life was centered around the small village I grow up in, surrounded by the forests of Småland in southern Sweden.

Well it used to be my whole life, but now I live and study in Uppsala. 6 hours from where I lived most of my life. The understanding of being alone was one of the first things that changed for me. That isn’t to say some good things have come from the move here.

But honestly what have I just said about myself there? I told you about physical events, historical places and maybe some interests of mine But is there anything of worth amongst this text? Probably nothing crucial for now.

What has become my most defining feature of the last few years is the tiny mistake that some doctor made at my birth. Even if I don’t really feel like this, its the easiest way to explain. I never got to chose, like nobody really, to be born a boy. The difference between me and most others is that like some people I started having thoughts about being something that should be impossible. I wanted to be the “opposite” gender.

So there you have it. I am trans. I still feel kinda disgusted by myself saying it out loud, it feels like a cry for sympathy when I feel undeserving of it. But it is part of the reason why I am writing this. I will most likely even have another post eventually dealing with this topic aswell.

Besides having a life filled with self doubt, self loathing and confusion, there are some bright spots. Video Games, the greatest of escapist tools and my friend since childhood have always been there. Literature, the ability to experience a million varying lives, point of views and thoughts in the form paper and alphabet or of less worth in my eyes, that of a television screen. The last major interest I have is in drawing, as a child I loved it and despite being disillusioned, I once more started taking it seriously around 5 - 6 years ago.

Ultimately I suppose I should make a mention of what my interests on an intellectual level are. Primarily its the topics of History and Philosophy. Currently I am studying at the bachelor Historian programme in Uppsala and have for most of my life had an interest in history, but it really started when I got several good grades in it around the age of 15. Enough bragging though.

Philosophy on the other hand like politics are more side interests. I am a socialist humanitarian, I usually like to refer to myself as a communist though. I don’t really fit within the ideas the Cold War held (that I distance myself from) and in a sense I have my own form even though its kinda naive to think like that.

Equality and Democracy, would be my core pieces of politics however. Ultimately also my hope for humanity to one day break out of this cradle and mature into a civilization that can survive in the boundless void that surrounds us. However that is mostly idealistic stupidity on my part, atleast I think it is but hope is needed.

Discussing equality leads to another part of my situation I need to clarify here and will become a topic for the future. That is the fact that I am a virgin BDSM fetishist and overall rather perverted despite never showing this outwards and generally being around people that kinkshame me. I hate the fact that I am like this, I loathe myself to unhealthy degrees and have a feeling of being impure, aka part of the reason why I choose my username but it is not the only one. My weird orientation for your information is that of a Panromantic Lesbian. Hopefully it makes sense.

As you most likely notice my style of writing has changed. I think it depends on emotion and now my rage at young militant anarchists is bleeding over here. I won’t develop on that now and I don’t object to the anarchist ideology even if I don’t share it but I know all too well a lot of naive and ignorant anarchists that believe everything will be solved through the use of guns.

The Sin that Broke the Status Quo

As I write this, I am listening to the amazing song called Sins of the Father with Donna Burke. In so many ways it, like always can sum up my emotions. The melodrama that most people will probably find annoying after a few more posts, the longing for a new world and change whilst also reminding of the old.

Enough of that however. I have now written some about myself. It ended up a mess but I am content with leaving it like that. Now we come to why?

Why do I write here?

To be quite frankly, I want a place to put my emotions in a self perspective without it being a conversation. I want somewhere to share my thoughts and feelings and I hope to atleast eventually know what others think.

A friend of mine with a blog of her own got me to do this. Even though the idea has been there before. Its always hard bringing myself to write, but I felt a need for this.

Even if my life have undergone severe upheaval and change in the last month, I remain in a status quo of an unchanging world. My depression varies in severity and for the most part although I have friends and family, I remain alone.

I dream of creation, of making something that I can call my own. But so far this has never come to fruition. Honestly, what do I expect from this? I have no idea, people will probably not even read it. Regardless of what, i’ll keep the hope atleast that this can give some meaning and help me end the limbo I am suffering from.

Status Quo, is what I have called this limbo in this text. I hope that me reaching out in this form might be the beginning of breaking that Limbo, but maybe that is hoping too much. I really don’t know how far between these posts will be but I will try to be regular.

If someone out there actually reads this.

Thanks.

#self reflection #thoughts #melodramatic #blog #introduction #firstpost #natureoflife #transgender #selfbiography #i hate this

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yeslabyrinth · 7 years

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Not So Humble Beginnings

I’ve been thinking for awhile about what I want to do with this blog, and what my first improv post should be about. The aim is to help students of mine understand my personal improv beliefs, but also, I think having to type these beliefs out helps adds both a healthy amount of doubt, and personal understanding to my own thoughts. After mulling over the many things I'd like to discuss, I finally decided I'll just do an ode to my five years of doing improv here in Kansas City, and how doing improv in not Chicago/LA/NYC has been for me(although I have been lucky enough to play in festivals in these larger cities). Be warned, this is probably longer than it need be.

When I first arrived in Kansas City, a transport from St. Louis, I had recently gotten into improv through seeing shows at the Improv Shop, a wonderful, close knit family that was just developing at the time http://theimprovshop.com/ I was caught in between moving from STL to KC, and so I never took any classes, but for six months, I went to shows religiously. When students ask me how they can get better outside of class, I always say SEE IMPROV! Good shows, bad shows, any shows! Seeing the mechanics at work, trying to understand them without knowing the "rules", and developing my own tastes for forms, and styles was so vital to me as a performer. In hindsight, some of the things I liked, I know find cheap, and some of the things I found boring, I now find breathtaking, but never the less, I got to see what improv is. I got to know the art form before I knew how to create the art form, and I think that's how you get good at any skill. It starts with a passion, and not technical skill.

So, I end up moving to Kansas City, and the first thing I do is try to find improv I like. I see a group called After School Special play at the Kick Comedy Theater, and they are unlike any other group I had seen at the time. They played super fast, had this group mind like the teams in STL I loved, but also explored jokes in ways I hadn't seen before. I would go on to find out they were playing "game", a style popularized by the UCB theater out of New York, which makes sense, because they were coached by Kevin Mullaney, an amazing improviser/instructor, and former artistic director of the UCB Theater. I found out pretty much all of the members were part of the KC Improv Company, an ensemble cast of about 20-30 folks, and so I started taking classes there, hoping to learn from these people, and I did. After graduating through the classes over the course of a year, I was asked to join a team with some of the members of After School Special, (a team called Babies, that I am still with today), and I was through the moon! They liked me! I was validated in thinking I was funny!

This reminds me of another wonderful tip I have for new improvisers, USE THE INTERNET! Babies were taught(and still are) by improvisers throughout the country like Kevin Mullaney in Chicago, James Mastraieni of UCB LA, Rick Andrews of the Magnet in NYC, and on, and on. For small fees, we were able to learn from different schools of improv, from instructors who had decades of experience, all though our computer in the middle of the country. You too can do this! Go online, find reputable instructors, and learn from them. Any great improviser has their own philosophy towards improv, and it's probably an amalgamation of various philosophies.

Now, here is where I will go over a little bit of improv drama that happened, and yes, improv drama happens in the middle of the map as well. To make a long story short, most of After School Special left the KC Improv Company for artistic differences, and the members I was closest with started our own improv company called Midcoast. We were basically anti-everything going on in KC. We didn't like all the short form that was going on, we didn't like how little people focused on game style play, we didn't like how jokey jokey a lot of stuff was, and, we thought, we'd change the scene by disassociating from it, and doing our own thing(great game plan, right? Oh, and not a bit of pretension there either, huh?). We taught classes for less than the other places, we charged less than the other places, we did more experimental stuff than the other places. We had a small, but mighty cult following, and unsurprising due to the things I just listed, over the course of another year, things fell apart. The other members were doing most the work, I felt like I was still too new at this improv thing to do all this, the bar we did everything out of broke ties with us, and I also felt like I was fighting a fight I didn't want to fight. Why not embrace the scene? A rising tide lifts all boats, right? I'd hope so.

I ended up parting ways from some of the Midcoast people, though I still think they are some of the best improvisers I've ever worked with, and I owe almost all my improv chops to them, and auditioned for the KC Improv Company, and got on! While I was so busy being anti-KCIC, I don't think I took the time to realize what all they did for the community. They put on the yearly festival, brought in some great acts every year, they had a professionalism about their institution, marketed it as such, and they did the unthinkable. They paid improvisers to do improv, something 95% of people in big cities doing improv have probably never experienced. Also, while I was so busy being in this "us vs them" phase, I neglected to see that the game style play Midcoast was pushing had permeated into KCIC, and was commonplace. I don't take much credit for this, and think the release of the UCB Manual, as well as some of Babies members already being in KCIC helped this trend, but it was nice to see game wasn't still viewed as this hipster thing that older improvisers had to rebel against.

When I was younger, I was upset that NYC, Chicago, and LA didn't know much about KC. Yeah, an instructor here or there may come in, and teach, or come to a festival, but we weren't known for being a mecca of improv. This upset me. Probably because of my pride in being a Midwesterner, and my arrogance that anything involving me needs to be as important as everything else, even if those other places had hundreds of improvisers, working countless hours perfecting their craft over decades. As I've matured, I realize that the only thing I can do is help educate, and show the love I have for improv to others, and maybe they'll discover that love, and pass it on, like some kind of Amish bread.

So, that’s my KC history, and these are the things I want to explore in this blog, and pass onto others. Like the beginning of an improv scene, I expect nothing, but I will find joy in everything. To quote Tina Fey, "improv is a cult, but it's my cult", and all I want to do is spread the good word. Last year I became the Director of the Kc Improv Company's Training Center, and I will use this blog to filter some of my thoughts to students, and whoever else stumbles upon this.

#improv #kansascity #longform #ucb

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daisy-constellations · 8 years

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Il Me L’a Dit, L’a Juré Pour La Vie - Part Eleven

Marinette didn’t think inviting Chat Noir in for milk would lead to this.

The heroes were 20 years old, in university, and it was now time to trust each other better than they ever did.

CHAPTER LIST

Rating: Teen/ Mature.

Angst and fluff, and all that good stuff.

Il Me L’a Dit, L’a Juré Pour La Vie - Part Eleven

Lies

***

Adrien insisted on waking Marinette home from his place, but she told him not to worry. She changed back into her own clothes, chucking out the ripped beloved tights. She left the clothes that she borrowed in a neat folded pile on the counter in his bathroom before transforming as Ladybug. Adrien’s face was as red as her suit when she came sauntering out.

Adrien opened the window for her and she climbed up. It was late at night, the lights were all off in his apartment and her dark curvy silhouette was cast upon the hardwood as the moonlight shone behind her – nothing new to him, but this time, he reached out and pulled her down by the wrist, placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

It wasn’t until she was out of view from his place that she hid behind a chimney and placed her fingertips over her still tingling lips. She felt giddy – if only her fifteen year old self could see her now. If only she could go back in time and give herself a hug for holding on to this stupid boy for so long because every second with him now was worth the long wait.

She couldn’t wait to tell Alya.

Wait, Marinette thought, I can’t… I can’t tell her a single thing…

Marinette stopped and looked down at the road. She couldn’t tell Alya anything, and that killed her inside. How could she forget so soon after making a big fuss about it all weekend?

“You finally kiss the boy of your dreams and it makes you go stupid,” Marinette mumbled to herself before carrying on with her trek home. “You finally kiss the boy of your dreams and you can’t tell your best friend. You can’t tell anyone.” Marinette hated herself right now.

Finally, Marinette landed in the alleyway next to her own apartment and detransformed. When she got to her apartment, it was dark and not a trace of Alya anywhere. She was probably sleeping already. She had an early class tomorrow; they both did.

Marinette got ready for bed and stared at herself long and hard in the bathroom mirror. Her lips were slightly red, but so were her cheeks. This boy was going to be the end of her, she knew it. She sighed; she didn’t like keeping secrets from her best friend. Alya always told her everything, but Marinette had always been hiding behind something. It’s not like she wanted to, she had to. She was Ladybug and that’s part of her duty.

Marinette quietly left the bathroom. She closed her room door slowly to avoid aking thud, not wanting to wake up Alya.

“You’re back late..."

Marinette startled and turned around. Alya was sitting on her bed, legs crossed. The room was dark, but Marinette knew there was an unimpressed look across her friend’s face.

Marinette’s eyes darted around the room and found Tikki nestled in her closet under a pile of clothes. She glanced back at Alya’s dark figure on her bed and rubbed her arm, “I’m sorry Alya. You should be going back to bed. You have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Alya scoffed, “Cheng, you forget how many all-nighters I’ve pulled. Sit down,”

Marinette scowled and shuffled to her bed. She plopped next to the brunette, shaking the whole bed in the process. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“No. I need to talk to you right now,”

“You always need to talk to me right now.” Marinette groaned. She just wanted to avoid confrontation at all costs. She knew she could spill her guts any second now about what she had been up to. It was probably written all over her face in thick black marker; if the lights were on, Alya would be able to read the guilt. She wanted to just come clean. She wanted to scream that she had made out with Adrien Agreste. Alya would be so happy for her.

“It’s important. If you had come home sooner, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Well, I had to sketch and get stuff,”

“Speaking of which, where is this fabric that you keep talking about?”

Marinette stopped. God, why am I so stupid? “I, uh, left it at the studio on campus… for tomorrow.”

Alya frowned and simply said, “Huh,” before shrugging it off. “Anyway, I’ve got great footage from the fight today. That akuma was crazy.”

“You can say that again,” Marinette murmured to herself.

“I want you to check out my blog post tomorrow,” Alya demanded. “But this isn’t what I’m here for,”

Marinette let out a heavy sigh and fell back on her bed, “Hurry up before I fall asleep.”

Alya hesitated and cleared her throat. Marinette propped herself on her elbows and watched her friend bring her knee under her chin and fiddle with the hem of her woolly sock. “Don’t let this to upset you too much. I just felt like I needed to tell you. You have a right to know.”

Marinette arched her brow, “Alya, you’re making me nervous. What is this about?”

“Well, today, just before you joined up with me and Adrien, we were talking…” Marinette stopped breathing for a second and prayed that she wasn’t going to say what she thought she was. Alya sighed, “I’m just gonna get straight to it. I know you’re not over Adrien, but the guy was on a date with someone today. I don’t know who, he won’t say, but I’m sure she’s some gross fashion model who wears an abundance of makeup and laughs at jokes way too hard.”

Alya turned around to look at Marinette. The raven haired girl didn’t know how to react – she wanted to laugh. Alya was making it so dramatic – well it would be for her too if she wasn’t the one Adrien was seeing, making the whole scenario too comical for her.

“Oh and I’m so sorry for making Adrien walk with you before. I sort of panicked. I thought maybe it was a smart move to get you guys together alone, but... Oh shit… You didn’t see her, did you?” Alya digressed.

Marinette stared blankly in front of her, not wanting to show Alya any trace of her emotions – she was too easy to read.

“Mari?” Alya said softly. She was genuinely worried about her. “Mari, I will find all the info I need on this dumb girl so we can make fun of her together, I promise.”

“I didn’t see her and it’s… It’s okay Alya. Really. There’s no need for all that,” Marinette laid back down again and draped her arm over her face in attempt to hide in.

“Oh Mari. Please don’t be upset. I just thought… you should know. Maybe it won’t work out – these things never work out.” Alya rambled again. She felt bad, really bad, and Marinette felt just as horrible – she was making her friend worry for absolutely nothing.

Marinette knew how stupid this whole situation was – it could be so easy to just tell her the truth, sort of. She would just have to remove all the details of her and Adrien as Chat Noir and Ladybug and getting to really know each other that way over the years, and that would leave her with an almost unbelievable story that her and Adrien basically started to go out of the blue. It would still be easy… just not possible.

Alya rubbed Marinette’s knee and repeated reassuring things to her, “Look, I noticed how you two were comfortable the other night, and I’m sorry that he led you on that way. I will personally go over there and kick his ass.”

“Alya…” Marinette warned. “I will get Nino involved.”

“But Mari! He shouldn’t have done that!”

“He didn’t really lead me on. Nothing happened.”

“Well, he made you happy. You were blushing and smiling a lot over dinner.”

Marinette rubbed her face and groaned. This was so frustrating for her. He was making her happy that night, but for different reasons – the right reasons! Alya was sitting here, soothing her and being the best friend that she could have ever asked for, and Marinette couldn’t even reassure her.

What’s another lie going to do?

Marinette sat up and rested her head on Alya’s shoulder, who wrapped her arms around her. “Thank you for telling me, and worrying about me. I really appreciate it Alya. I just want to sleep right now. And please, don’t do any sort of research. If he’s happy, I’m happy.”

“But, are you really happy Mari?”

Marinette’s heart broke right then – not because of the news, like Alya thought, but because her friend was so good to her, and she was being a horrible friend back. Alya didn’t deserve this. All Alya does is care about Marinette – that’s all she ever did.

Marinette bit her lip and nodded, “Always.”

Alya sighed. “Aright.”

Marinette hugged her friend, “Alya, I think I just need to sleep it off. I’m really tired.”

“Of course. You’ve been working hard all day.”

Marinette gulped, “Y-Yeah.”

Alya started to get up, when Marinette’s phone chimed on the bed side table. The screen lit up the room, casting a shadow on half of Alya’s worried features. She reached out to pass it over to Marinette. She quickly read the screen.

“A text message from Adrien?”

Fuck.

“Let- Let me see that,” Marinette pulled the phone from her fingers. Adrien had finally gotten her number yesterday after their patrol. Her fingers were shaking as she drew the pattern on her screen to unlock it.

Alya narrowed her eyes. ”Marinette, it’s super late.”

Did you make it home alright? Adrien had texted. “It’s okay. He was just making sure I got home.”

Alya stood up and crossed her arms, “Why would Adrien text you this late to make sure you’re okay? Marinette, how is this not leading you on?”

“Because it’s not! We can be just friends.”

“That makes no sense! None! Marinette! Don’t you see?” Alya was visibly upset now, waving her hands as she spoke. Marinette glanced down in her lap at the now dark phone screen.

“Alya, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! You’ve been after this guy since we were fifteen! Your heart has been broken many times because of him. When we graduated, you barely saw him after that and I know that you were upset because of that.” Alya tucked her wild wavy hair behind her ears. “And I also know you still wear that shirt because his signature is on it.” She pointed at the t-shirt Marinette was wearing – the ones with all the notes and signatures from their last day at Collège Françoise Dupont. The one that Adrien recognized when he was Chat Noir.

“It’s fine,” Marinette said quietly. What was she supposed to say? Up until a few days ago, she was right. Alya was always right.

Alya groaned, “You’re impossible! Good night!” She stormed out of the room, closing the door behind her. Marinette could hear Alya close her own room door as it echoed in the empty hallway.

Marinette climbed into her bed and buried herself in her blankets that still smelled like Adrien. Her phone chimed again. It was Alya; I still love you.

I love you too. Thank you.

How was she going to get herself out of this one?

***

The next day, the two girls were very quiet when preparing their breakfast. Alya settled only on a cup of coffee, and Marinette ate yogurt with granola. Normally they would go back to their usual gossip and bantering after something like this, but the way Alya was staring into her coffee cup made Marinette feel sheepish. She was right. Adrien had hurt her, but to be fair, he didn’t know he was.

Marinette glanced down at the shirt again, placing her fingertips where Adrien’s messy cursive signature was.

They got ready for their day in complete silence as well. Adrien was sending Marinette texts, which she decided not to answer. Marinette rummaged through her disastrously untidy closet and found high waisted blue jeans and a black and white stripped peter pan collared shirt. She shrugged on her everyday beige jacket over the outfit and wrapped a rose scarf around her neck. She slipped on her dark chocolate oxfords and tapped her toes on the ground one at a time to make sure they were on properly. Her hair was pulled up in a high messy bun and she decided on only mascara and blush – she liked putting on makeup, but not when she was in a rush to leave. Tikki tucked herself in one of the big baggy jacket pockets with a thick cotton glove and hummed to herself. Finally, Marinette grabbed her black strap backpack and keys before following Alya out the door, and locking it.

Alya was always the first one out of the apartment in some sort of comfortable and casual attire. Today, her hair was up in a bun like Marinette’s and she already had a pencil through it. She had curly baby hairs framing her face.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said before they split ways at the métro.

Alya turned around, the wind blowing the small auburn hairs out of her face. “It’s fine Mari. I just want you to really think about this. Please. I don’t want you to get upset over this boy again.”

Marinette nodded and Alya smiled slightly, “I’ll see you later.” She turned around and walked down the street to her bus stop. Marinette bit her lower lip slightly and pulled out her phone to find another new text from Adrien. Her fingers hovered over the screen before she decided to put it away and step down the stairs to the métro.

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toolsforthejourney-blog · 8 years

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Pain

January 2017

To my family, friends, fans and seekers…

I would like to write about pain, how and why it comes upon us, and what are its origins…

Pain or hurt, are inevitable in this life, and I don’t know about you, but I find pain one of the most confounding aspects of life.

Pain is associated with an injury, rejection, or loss.

This world is infected with pain everywhere you look, and the fact that our world keeps spinning at all is in itself a miracle. There are wars, famines, epidemics, terrorism, hatred, crime, racial prejudice, natural disasters and death—to name just a few. These cause pain to the afflicted and to those that remain.

There are some that would place the onus on Father-God for our pain—that He uses it to teach us. So it goes like this:

“Son, I warned you not to play with matches because they can start a fire and burn our house down. Since you can’t seem to obey me, I’m going to light this match and hold the flame to the palm of your hand until the match burns all the way down. It’s going to hurt and seriously scorch the flesh on your hand, but it’s for your own good; I’m doing this to teach you a lesson you will never forget, because I love you.”

Can you imagine? What uttter nonsense! This contradiction is what some misguided folks believe, when they ascribe pain to some part of God’s sovereignty, a.k.a. He creates “pain” for our good. This is a distorted view of His sovereignty and it misrepresents His will in the world.

It’s not that I don’t believe He is sovereign, I do. But I also know that He has placed a great deal of trust in us as followers of Jesus; to bring His kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. …as it is in heaven: where there is no pain. So there are great areas of freedom that we walk in for good or ill, depending on how we exercise that freedom. Our freedom is there for us to love or hate, bless or curse, to do good or cause pain.

I believe that love is the answer to the “why” of pain. Love is a risk, and it will cost us everything we’ve got to live in love, and to enforce it. We risk the loss of everyone or everything that we love. It is because of our capacity to love that we can feel, and sometimes those feelings are painful.

I remember when I was a little boy, before school-age, our family received Jonas Salk’s polio vaccination in sugar cubes. In addition, my parents were ordered by the CDC to destroy all our older stuffed animals and other soft toys, in order to prevent the spread of polio. My Teddy Bear was a casualty of the war on polio. The after-effect of losing my stuffed pal was a recurring nightmare in which a 150-foot tall living Teddy Bear attacked our neighborhood (think Godzilla…). In the dream we were on the run from the beast and just when we thought we had escaped him and made it to safety, I looked up, and there he was. There was no place to hide or run. He reached down and grabbed my scrawny little self, and lifted me up to his gigantic mouth to eat me—not anyone else, just me. And right before I entered the dark cavern of his great mouth, I woke up.

I had the same dream more than twenty times, the last time when I was fifteen. I went through more than ten years of waking up in a cold sweat from a very bad dream.

No doubt the loss of my Teddy Bear had a HUGE effect on me.

And then there is rejection. This may be the most painful of all. When we love someone who doesn’t love us in return, or maybe can’t love us because they lack the capacity—rejection can be like a dagger to the heart. As a matter of course we find ourselves asking the question, “What’s wrong with me that they can’t love me?”, even if it’s only asked in our subconscious mind.

And eventually there’s death, which finds us all. My Great Aunt Alice is 102 years of age at the writing of this blog. She still has all her faculties and mobility, albeit assisted by a cane. Amazing! But even centenarians run out of time—eventually. The ratio of death to humans is 1 to 1. Losing a loved one leaves a void, and that can suck us down a vortex of grief if we let it.

I remember losing my uncle Rico 25 years ago. He and I had done a few music projects together and had made plans to do more, but throat cancer took him. When people are ripped from our life through sickness or tragedy, it’s always too soon…too soon. I didn’t slow down to mourn his passing, and the grief I put off became a full-blown depression 15 months later. It was a situational depression, not chemical, but who really knows…is it the chicken or the egg when it comes to a depression?

One of the Old Testament’s more quirky characters was a man called Jabez. He prayed to have more land, more influence, more blessing and protection from evil. But interestingly he ended his prayer with these words, “…that I may not cause pain.”

Now that’s a good prayer for us all.

The greatest pain of all is when those we love choose to do us wrong; when they injure us. Nothing hurts more than a betrayal from a close family member. When those that should know better hurt us, we are left dazed and bewildered. As Bernie Taupin wrote for Elton John, “Love lies bleeding in my hand.”

Well said and sung.

Because God works all things to our good, nothing we go through is wasted. We do mature on the other side of pain. We do grow in character on the other side of pain. We do learn to better appreciate what we have on the other side of pain. We do gain the perspective of the pain we’ve gone through and how we emerged from it, and then we can comfort others who are going through similar pain. For sure, pain produces something positive if we don’t get stuck and wallow in it.

Think manure...

God doesn’t cause pain, but He sure puts it to good use.

No, our God is the cure for pain. He is our loving Father. He is our Comforter. He is our Protector. He is our Restorer. He is our Vindicator. He is our Deliverer. He is our Defender. He is our Redeemer.

He is our Healer.

Pain comes from our ancient foe and accuser, and from us, for we are human; we are weak. Every one of us causes pain to someone or to ourselves, and when we do, we live in agreement with our adversary. We humans are fallible and given to error, sin and falseness. This is why we need a Savior. I wrote a song called ‘Only One’, which is on my album entitled Spring. It speaks to Jesus Christ being the only One who can solve the world’s macro problems. If we could have solved the world’s issues, wouldn’t we have done so by now?

Pain reminds us that we are human, and humans never stop needing His love.

Remember in everything, Father will have the final say.

As always, you can respond to this essay to my email address, [email protected], or at my website, Innocente.us under the blog button in the pull-down menu, or simply at tumblr.com/blog/toolsforthejourney

Keep it out of the box,

Innocente

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vclffcremhut-blog · 5 years

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How To See How To See Who Viewed Your Instagram Fastly

Theres something every igapers wants to know: who's searching at my pictures? We alive in a show-and-tell world, in the manner of ihttps://vclffcremhut.tumblr.com/post/187092623690/easy-guidelines-to-can-you-see-who-viewed-yourdo-i-publish-mindsets, comments, and likes. No one desires to disappear at oddity of a #uninteresting photograph. But, ever once the ventilate of instagram memories, which does can incite you see who views your instagram look who has seen the movies who viewed my instagram and photographs you have got shared, the concept is start to move ahead that you can additionally comprehend who has visible the content material you have published for your wall. Instagram makes it tidy to do its stuff pretend, but what occurs whilst a person else pretends to be you?

Who Views My Instagram

This is the get older of innovation. The arena of technology is enhancing at such a great speed that know developing a particular tool is not no question tough. Apart from that, you will locate several hacks and trick to get to know something that the world think is impossible to find out. It is the skirmish subsequent to the Instagram profiles. Many of us thought that it is not even near possible to locate out that who has viewed your Instagram profile and how many times. However, the technology has yet proved our thoughts wrong. Because recently an unbelievable further tool has been developed that will astound you at every cost. past this tool, you will be accomplished to locate out all the answers to the single question how to see who views your Instagram. This tool will bring improvement in the social networking world. Now the hidden spys will not remain hidden anymore and you will be dexterous to track the actions of many people. thus let us have a walkthrough of this unbelievable online tool that will let you locate out the person viewing your Instagram profile. Now you might be wondering that how this can you see who views your instagram story unbelievable tool was developed and the masterminds at the rear its creation. In the present age, we have the incredible tool of technology to create can you see who views your instagram description everything possible. The online tool was developed because of the single defense of giving people a method to know how to see who views your Instagram and it has been already stated. appropriately to manage to pay for the reply to this ask we collaborated a team of professional that are specialists in software loan and have the absolute knowledge of the Instagram. We associated some algorithmic laws and few codes that led us to the money up front of this incredible online tool that has made this practicable to locate the profile viewers. This tool will incite you to beware of the unexceptional people and make your privacy mighty or cut off every your personal items from your profile to save them away from the eyes of the evil. suitably the get older has arrive to end heartbreaking nearly who is viewing your profile and locate them out suitably you can end them for the greater good. We hope that this online tool will aim the pretentiousness a person use Instagram and disturbs the privacy of additional people by viewing their profiles. In theory, social media sites past facebook create it for that reason that third parties cant permission your mystery statistics, but without our understanding, hackers are taking advantage people: robbing private data (even the ones first rate-complex-and-thoroughly-concept-out passwords) and purchase full get right of way in to to our profiles. Inside the theoretical and far off war of mark zuckerberg and the directors of instagram figuring out that you could acquire approach to this records, it would be the app itself that, in one in every of its updates, brought the unorthodox suitably that you can recognise who has seen your pics. If a person tells you they can reach it, theyre no longer to be trusted.

Learn From Definition

Take into account the engagement of turker bayram, a lamentably popular but elusive malware developer who has been competent of vicinity his malicious apps inside the top charts on google perform and the app shop. Soon after he creates them and uploads them, there are big numbers of downloads. By the mature a person figures out whats occurring, and after hundreds how to see who views your instagram of hundreds (probably tens of millions) of customers are robbed of their personal information, google and apple as soon as delete the apps. can you see who views your instagram videos This has took area at least two times. Some months in the past, an impartial developer named david layer-reiss warned us on his blog approximately bayrams new malicious software. The ios model became called who cares in the same way as me igapers, and in android, igapers who cares following me. Those apps found in imitation of the aid of layer-reiss have already been eliminated and, in november 2015, each apple and google withdrew bayrams indigenous platform, instaagent. It isn't always the first epoch malware takes more than a well-known web page (i.E. Instagram, whatsapp, fb) thus as to massively rob consumer profiles and it gainedt be the last. These apps usually return to the top of the charts and every consequently often below the umbrella of the equal developer. In the stroke of igapers, the sufferer innocently enters their credentials, unaware that the confidential data is despatched to the attackers server. Rather than coming across who has been searching at your instagram?, the cyber-attacker seamlessly accesses the account as if it were their own and posts spam pics at the owners behalf.Foto 2_instagram from telegrams to instagrams, the greater technically state-of-the-art we stop taking place the more indispensable it's miles to can you look who views your instagram give a positive response the conversation supply, or in this example, the app. igapers is just one of the many scams designed to agree to plus of the great amalgamation generated through social networks. The most worrisome aspect virtually them is their recognition, who views my instagram until the end of time huge and instant, that by the times google or apple are in force its too overdue for heaps of customers. accomplishment those threats via staying alert, ignoring play a part guarantees, and installing a hard antivirus upon every of your gadgets. Instagram is the most well-liked photo and video sharing application which shall we one proportion your non-public or public snap shots. Its possible to determine film watch affix upon the motion pictures that you have downloaded through the app doesnt let you know whos checking on your instagram account and privately like your pictures.

Conclusion

In case you are a regular instagram user, then theres a exquisite possibility which you have key enthusiasts too who opt for to check your instagram page along taking into account your snap shots. Fortunately, there are approaches to understand who is checking your instagram profile. You could additionally recognise who perspectives your instagram. Instagram analytics facilities are who viewed my instagram video welcoming how to look who viewed your instagram in view of that you can observe these inclusion metrics. services next statigram, handiest measured and nitrogram does now not presently degree raw viewership statistics but offers you a photo of how many individuals have interacted along in imitation of your posts thru evaluations, likes and shared urls

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itcorner · 7 years

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Technology and Our Kids

With the vast majority connected to constantly, I regularly ponder what impact innovation is having on our children. Some say innovation is another useful learning instrument that is making our children more brilliant and some say it is having no critical impact by any means. All things considered, others recommend that innovation utilize is empowering social segregation, expanding attentional issues, empowering unfortunate propensities, and at last changing our way of life and the way people communicate. While there isn't a causal connection between innovation utilize and human advancement, I do think some about the relationships are sufficiently solid to urge you to restrain your youngsters' screen time.

Is TV truly that unsafe to kids? Contingent upon the show and term of watching, yes. Specialists have discovered that introduction to programs with quick alters and scene cuts that glimmer unreasonably over the screen are related with the improvement of attentional issues in kids. As the cerebrum moves toward becoming overpowered with evolving jolts, it quits taking care of any a certain something and begins daydreaming. An excessive amount of introduction to these frantic projects gives the cerebrum more practice latently tolerating data without profoundly preparing it. In any case, not all projects are terrible. Children who observe moderate paced TV programs like Sesame Street are not as prone to create attentional issues as children who watch demonstrates like The Power Puff Girls or Johnny Neutron. Instructive shows are moderate paced with less jolts on the screen which gives youngsters the chance to work on taking care of data. Kids would then be able to work on making associations amongst new and past learning, controlling data in working memory, and critical thinking. Definitively, a great general guideline is to constrain TV viewing to a hour to two hours per day, and look out for a gleaming peered toward transfixed look on your kid's face. This is a certain sign that his or her mind has quit centering and it is unquestionably time to stop the tube with the goal that he can begin considering, making, and seeming well and good out of things once more (all activities that develop as opposed to mollify the cerebrum).

When you do close off the tube, don't be shocked on the off chance that you have a dissolve down staring you in the face. Innovation has an addictive quality since it reliably actuates the arrival of neurotransmitters that are related with joy and reward. There have been instances of addictions to innovation in youngsters as youthful as four-years of age. As of late in Britain, a four-year-old young lady was put into serious restoration treatment for an iPad dependence! I'm certain you know that it is so remunerating to sign onto Facebook and see that red warning at the highest point of the screen, or considerably more straightforwardly how compensating playing recreations on your PC can be as you gather more "achievements." I am blameworthy of fanatical impulsively checking my Facebook, email, and blog for the duration of the day. The regular response to this issues is, "Everything with some restraint." While I concur, control might be troublesome for youngsters to accomplish as they don't have the right stuff for self-control and will frequently take the simple course if not coordinated by a grown-up. As per another investigation by the Kaiser Family Foundation, youngsters spend around 5 hours sitting in front of the TV and motion pictures, 3 hours on the web, 1/2 hours messaging on the telephone, and a 1/2 hour chatting on the telephone every day. That is right around 75 hours of innovation utilize every week, and I am certain these outcomes are interceded by parental controls and mediations. Envision how much innovation kids utilize when left to their own resistances! In a current Huffington Post article, Dr. Larry Rosen summed it up well, "... we see what happens in the event that you don't constrain these dynamic support. The tyke keeps on being fortified in the profoundly captivating e-world, and more everyday universes, for example, playing with toys or sitting in front of the TV, could not hope to compare." How are you consistently going to get your tyke to peruse a high contrast exhausting old book when they could utilize a conspicuous, remunerating iPad? Youngsters by and large burn through 38 minutes or less every day perusing. Do you see a need issue here?

With such successive innovation utilize, it is critical to comprehend if innovation utilize energizes or disheartens solid propensities. It's accounted for that among overwhelming innovation clients, half get C's or lower in school. Light innovation clients reasonable much better, just a fourth of them accepting low checks. There are many variables that could intercede the connection between innovation utilize and less than stellar scores. One could be diminished hours of rest. Specialists from the Department of Family and Community Health at the University of Maryland found that youngsters who had at least three innovative gadgets in their rooms got no less than 45 minutes less rest than the normal kid a similar age. Another could be the consideration issues that are connected with visit innovation utilize. Going further, multitasking, while considered a splendid ability to have at work, is ended up being a block to kids. It isn't phenomenal to see a school matured tyke utilizing a portable PC, wireless, and TV while endeavoring to likewise total a homework task. On the off chance that we take a gander at the tablet, we may see a few tabs opened to different informal organizations and excitement locales, and the telephone itself is a smaller than normal PC nowadays. In this manner, while multitasking, youngsters are fail to give their investigations complete consideration. This prompts an absence of dynamic contemplating, an inability to exchange data from here and now to long haul memory, which drives at last to poorer evaluations in school. Besides, it is alongside outlandish for a youngster to draw in is a portion of the higher request data preparing aptitudes, for example, making surmisings and making associations between thoughts while multitasking. We need our kids to be profound masterminds, makers, and pioneers, not uninvolved data receptors who later spew data without truly giving it great idea. In this manner, we should confine access to numerous gadgets and in addition restrict length of utilization.

Age becomes possibly the most important factor while talking about the unsafe impacts of innovation. For kids more youthful than two-years of age, visit presentation to innovation can be perilously impeding as it restricts the open doors for communication with the physical world. Kids two-years of age and more youthful are in the sensorimotor stage. Amid this stage it is urgent that they control questions on the planet with their bodies so they can learn cause-impact connections and protest changelessness. Question lastingness is the understanding that when a protest vanishes from locate, despite everything it exists. This thinking requires the capacity to hold visual portrayals of items in the brain, a forerunner to understanding visual subjects, for example, math sometime down the road. To build up these abilities, youngsters require a few open doors consistently to form, make, and assemble utilizing materials that don't have a foreordained structure or reason. What a mechanical gadget furnishes are programs with a foreordained reason that can be controlled in constrained courses with outcomes that frequently don't fit the tenets of the physical world. In the event that the kid isn't being given an illustration application or something like that, they are likely given projects that are generally a considerable measure like exercise manuals with organized exercises. Scientists have discovered that such exercises frustrate the psychological advancement of youngsters this age. While analysts encourage guardians to restrain their infant's screen time to 2 hours or less every day, I would state it's smarter to hold up to acquaint innovation with your youngsters until after they have at any rate turned 3-years of age and are exhibiting sound intellectual advancement. And still, at the end of the day, innovation utilize ought to be restricted tremendously to give babies time to take part in inventive play.

Innovation is changing the way kids figure out how to convey and utilize correspondence to learn. Many guardians are utilizing gadgets to calm there youngsters in the auto, during supper, or any place social exercises may happen. The hazard here is that the kid isn't seeing and contemplating the social associations playing out before him. Youngsters learn social aptitudes through demonstrating their folks social communications. Moreover, tuning in to others impart and conversing with others is the means by which kids figure out how to converse with themselves and be separated from everyone else. The advantages of isolation for youngsters originate from replaying and carrying on discussions they had or seen amid the day, and this is the means by which they eventually comprehend their reality. All that really matters is, the more we open our youngsters to innovative gadgets, the more terrible their social aptitudes and conduct will be. A Millennium Cohort Study that took after 19,000 youngsters found that, "the individuals who observed over three hours of TV, recordings or DVDs daily had a higher possibility of lead issues, enthusiastic indications and relationship issues when they were 7 than kids who did not." If you will give your tyke screen benefits, at any rate put aside a period for simply that, and don't utilize innovation to placate or engross your kids amid get-togethers.

Doubtlessly that innovation utilize can prompt poor results, however innovation itself isn't to be faulted. Guardians need to recall their critical part as an arbiter between their youngsters and the hurtful impacts of innovation. Guardians should restrain presentation to gadgets, demoralize gadget multitasking, ensure gadgets are not utilized amid get-togethers, and screen the substance that their kid is participating in (ie. Sesame Street versus Johnny Neutron). Innovation can be a decent learning instrument, however youngsters additionally require time to communicate with objects in reality, take part in inventive play, mingle up close and personal with companions and grown-ups, and offspring of any age require isolation and time to give their mind a chance to meander. We have to put more accentuation on the "Ah-ha!" minute that happens when our psyches are free of diversions. Consequently alone, innovation utilize ought to be restricted for every one of us.

#kids #programming

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imagine-loki · 5 years

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 41 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Loki woke with a start. Looking around, he was terrified to see that though he was not in the middle of a battlefield as his mind had informed him a moment before with a Dark Elf bearing down on him and was instead in his own rooms safely back on Jotunheim, he noticed his bed was void of his mate who he specifically felt should be by his side.

He noticed her peculiar night attire on her side of the bed. Picking it up, he noticed how heavy the material was and the soft interior fluff, similar to animal fur would indeed give the heat she stated she required. Frowning slightly, he pondered why she would need such a thing. Her seidr always permitted her to be okay with her surrounding climate causing him to worry that she was no longer able to do so. When he heard the sound of water sloshing in the other room, it told him that she was in the bathing chamber. Looking at the dark sky and knowing that it would be bright early in the day at any attempt at a reasonable time in the day, telling him it was still late in the night. Worried, he rose from the bed and walked to the door. He had not even rapped his knuckles on it when it opened widely.

“It’s four in the morning, you need to rest.”

Walking into the bathing chamber, he was startled by the sheer amount of steam. The humidity, though he was unwillingly used to it from his time on Alfheim was like nothing Loki ever experienced before. “What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t get warm so I am just using some hot water to assist me,” she explained.

“What has caused this? You were here in the coldest of times, you should not feel cold?”

"My seidr is trying to do the impossible, I fear." Ella smiled.

"Is it like before, when you got ill?" Loki became fearful at the thought of her going back to that. War with Asgard was barely avoided before and he had seen enough of war to last him several lifetimes, not to mention, his protective feelings for her. She was his mate, his mind had clearly accepted that and he did not want any harm to befall her. He was supposed to protect her, that was his duty as her mate.

“No, nothing like that but it is nice to see you are concerned. No, I fear my body is adapting too well to Jotunheim and her climate but it seems to be forgetting that I am not Jotnar and that I am required to remain at a higher temperature,” she rolled her eyes and gave a small smile. “It’s ridiculous really.”

“That seidr seems to be more trouble than it is worth.”

Ella gave a slight laugh. “You did not say that on Vanaheim.”

“We could have used your gifts on Alfheim.”

“The humidity?”

“It was almost as bad as this.” Loki looked around the room, where steam had fogged every icy surface. “You’ll melt the palace at this rate.”

For a moment, Ella thought him to be serious but there was almost a playful glint in his features. “You honestly think I don’t have a spell for that?”

“I fear you have one for every and any form of situation.” Loki genuinely meant it before he shook his head slightly to fight off the tiredness.

“Go back to bed. You’re exhausted.”

“I will.” Loki did not move.

“You will not go until I join you, will you?” She eyed him carefully. Loki did not respond. “Fine. If only to give you some rest but I am probably going to use you as a heat source, so do not say you were not warned.” She felt around for the plug for the drain to release the water.

“You are warmer than I am.”

“I doubt it at present.” She took a towel that was beside the bath and stood to wrap it around her.

Loki watched her as she manoeuvred herself into a standing position, worried that she would slip and fall before getting out and putting on a towel. He frowned slightly as he noticed her hips were seemingly wider since his departure or perhaps it had always been so and he had not realised it. After his previous partners, he had thought her hips very slight, he had made comment regarding such a few times to his brothers but also once to Arden with regards to potential issues carrying young so slight. He was too tired to think about it too much but he did look with interest as she passed, very much wishing he had the energy to lay with her, having missed their mating while he was at war. Many men from all realms involved in the conflict used the services of certain women through the war, even his brothers seemed to have partaken in some activities, which, as their lives allowed due to their ability to have multiple mates was not something that would be in any manner frowned upon but Loki did no such thing. He had even heard from Helbindi that Prince Thor was not averse to such actions but he did nothing of the sort. As well as the risk of Prince Thor informing Ella if he had done such a thing and causing numerous issues as she would undoubtedly feel betrayed by him going back on his word and because he felt it to be wrong. That had startled him when he had felt that. He saw no issue in others doing it but when offered the opportunity for himself, he felt it was wrong and declined immediately. For the rest of that night, though he was happy with his decision, he pondered why he felt the inclination to do so.

Ella went to the bed and was drying herself, not paying much heed to Loki as she did so. When she felt his gaze on her, she looked at him, noting his concerned features. “What is it?”

Loki could not answer, he did not know why but he felt himself all but overcome with a sense of protectiveness that surpassed his earlier feelings of such. “I...I’m not sure. Something is terribly different.”

“How so?” She studied him worriedly.

“I...I can’t tell, but it is, with you.”

“Me?” Ella seemed more perturbed than anything.

“Yes...I…” Loki had been studying her face but when the towel slipped down, he found himself noticing her bare breast, looking far plumper and most definitely different to when he had left. He had been about to ask her something but instead became incredibly aroused by her current state of undress and how appealing she looked and with his eyes very much focused on her, he walked forward and urged her onto the bed, grateful to feel her legs spread naturally to allow him between them. “There is one manner to warm you up I think I can assist with.”

Loki woke to the sensation of Ella moving beside him. His eyes shot open immediately and his hand reached to her.

“What is wrong?” She looked worriedly at him.

“Where are you going?”

“The bathing room, I need to use it.”

“Sorry.” He let go of her arm and watched as she went to the bathing room, worrying why he felt uneasy allowing her out of his sight. The only reasonable thought he could even attempt to use for such was that after the loud and horrid camps of the war field, she was simply some company he could trust to not try to kill him as soon as he closed his eyes. That was a sensation he had not felt in a considerable amount of time.

When she came back to the bedroom, she smiled at him, soothing his worries. She genuinely seemed pleased to see him return and that made Loki feel more relaxed. She got into the bed beside him and seemed to be looking over his body.

“What are you looking for?”

“Wounds.”

“You will find very few.” He looked to the few scratches on his arm from where blades had barely made contact with his skin. Unlike other Jotnar, he bled more than shattered. His skin scarring over where the wounds once were. Now, they looked more like his natural markings.

“So you were not harmed much?”

“Not physically, no.”

“How were you harmed in other ways?” Loki frowned. “You stated you were not harmed physically, implying you were so in another manner.”

“No, I was not.”

“War-weary?”

“Incredibly so.”

“I sent a copy of myself to request us some food. Your father is aware that you and your brothers have returned. He is giving orders that none are to disturb any of you until you so choose to interact with the realm again. All who wish to rest after everything are to do so for at least a few days so to replenish strength.”

“‘Bind?”

“Both of your brothers, it is being warned are getting reacquainted with their mates. We will not see Helbindi for a few days I would think, Greta felt as though she was not far from a heat when I spoke to her a few days ago. Your brother, I would imagine, is going to do everything in his power to assist her into and through one.”

“He swore his goal was to sire daughters after everything.”

“I could not blame him. Siring such is far more appealing here than on Asgard, siring sons seems less appealing, considering everything.” She toyed gently with the marks on his skin, feeling for the ones that were not there before to see if they were simply ones she had forgotten or if they were instead wounds.

“'Leist told me of your actions with him when you went to retrieve him.” He smirked as he looked at her. “How far could you have made it without him or his mates seeing you?”

“I could have slit all their throats in their sleep and they would never have been any the wiser.” She looked into his red eyes as she spoke. “Though, with Alma carrying, it would not have been right.”

“She…?”

“Her heat, it would appear, was successful.”

“She will be a good dam,” Loki commented. “I’m not sure of having that other one as support, but she will do well. The realm is growing so well. How many are pregnant now?”

“Well, most of the males have been gone, so there are very few in the earliest stages, but we are definitely in double figures now. It’s wonderful. So many realms are suffering overpopulation, Jotunheim has a severe issue with underpopulation, this will be so good for the realm. Now with the threat of war gone also, we can invest more fields to food also.”

Loki sighed contently at the thought. “Jotunheim’s future seems to be getting a little brighter by the day. I am sure my father will be elated at the thought of one of his sons already siring. With Helbindi, who I know is adamant to ensure Greta is mated to within an inch of her being, it will not be long before she suffers carry his child also.”

“The House of Laufey will be unable to fit its bloodline at this rate.” Ella stretched slightly as she got comfortable in the bed again.

“It would be humorous if it were all the mates were carrying at once but most often, when one mate is carrying, her fellow mates do not tend to carry at the same time as somehow, it occurs that they do not have heats, so the young are tended to with the highest possible care. But if you and Greta were to also…”

“Well, they would be far from full-term in the time I carry. I could get pregnant today and still have a child before them. Even a half Jotnar is only eighteen months for me to carry while a full Jotnar child is carried for double that.”

“How long is a usual Aesir pregnancy?”

“Eighteen months. If our child had more Jotnar in it, I would be carrying longer but since you are only half Jotnar, it would appear I am growing at the rate normal for an Aesir mother.”

Loki nodded slightly as he felt himself relax at her being in the bed beside him once more, sating his worries by doing so, drifting slowly off to sleep, not noticing Ella’s admission or the half-smile on her face at him for not realising it as he fell asleep once more, he hand on her stomach, wondering when she would feel the child inside her begin to move.

#Loki #others #imagine #submission #Pride and Prejudice #chapter 41 #wolfpawn

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