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7team7 · 4 years

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Apron

In which cherry blossoms are familiar and Uchiha history can be found woven into all the fabrics of their household.

A/N: Hi everyone :) sorry for my own lack of posts, but I’m so excited to finally share this! My dear friend and the talented artist ALISS @alisstairs and I have been working on this project for a long time and we’re posting this part as a Valentine’s Day treat!! Our twitters are plumbIossoms and a_lisstairs. Please enjoy and look out for the rest of the project when it’s ready to be posted! Please do not repost any of this anywhere.

Sakura walked through the front door and was immediately greeted by a delicious scent and soft sounds coming from the kitchen — which meant her husband was cooking. The fact that Sasuke was both home early from a mission and cooking dinner was enough to put her in a good mood, so when she saw him standing over the stove, she couldn’t help but break into a big smile.

“Why’d you get an apron?” Sakura asked when she came up right behind him to peek at what he had set to boil. Sasuke jerked his chin towards his lone arm, “It can get a little messy with just this. I actually bought this for you while I was getting groceries, but I needed it myself for today.”

When Sakura walked in, Sasuke’s back was to her, so she only noticed the strings knotted around his waist that showed he was wearing an apron. Only when he turned around to kiss her in greeting did she realize the apron was pale pink in color and covered in a cherry blossom print. How cute.

“And when were you planning on telling me about this gift?” she asked with the same big smile she wore when she walked in.

“Never. It’s fine if you don’t use it and we just eat out all the time.” Sasuke honestly enjoyed his wife’s cooking, but it was always fun to tease her when everyone else claimed she was the worst. Sai’s pale skin turned a shade of sickly green anytime someone mentioned Sakura’s soldier pills.

Sakura rolled her eyes. Fine, he could just make his own bento next time!

“Sarada is still with my parents?” she queried instead. “Yes, I figured your mom would refuse to give her up if I attempted picking her up early. We can get her tomorrow morning?” “That sounds good. I only dropped her off this afternoon, so she’ll be fine for a little longer, but I’ll definitely be glad to have her back here. Sasuke-kun, aren’t you tired from your mission? Why didn’t you want to just get take-out or something?” Sasuke’s face fell almost imperceptibly, “You weren’t home when I got back. I wasn’t injured so I couldn’t bother you at the hospital. The house was too quiet without Sarada and I didn’t really have anything else to do.” He said it plainly, but the explanation made Sakura’s heart hurt a little. Coming home to an empty house was a certain kind of lonely feeling. The only downside of Sasuke returning early was that she hadn’t been there to greet him right away.

“Okay,” she smiled gently up at him, hoping to draw him away from any dark thoughts, “I’m glad you’re making something, I’m starving.” Sasuke nodded, but when his eyes narrowed soon after, Sakura already knew what he was thinking. “Yes, I ate lunch at the hospital. I brought the last of some leftovers.” He nodded again, satisfied.

Sakura moved away from his side to give him some space and started setting the table. “You know, this feels a little like before we had Sarada. Just me and you.”

“Except we’re not roasting fish over a fire in the middle of nowhere,” Sasuke deadpanned.

“Hey! You can’t deny that we had some good meals on the road. Well, I think cooking them was usually more fun than eating them because we never knew how they would turn out,” Sakura reminisced. And she was constantly impressed by Sasuke’s mastery of fire style; every single time he produced the perfect flame for their food. On her birthday, he even humored her and produced a baby flame for a candle they picked up in a random village.

They were able to find some familiar foods during their travels, but there were plenty of new flavors too. Naturally, some were hits, some were misses. The open air markets from the various nations always had something new to offer.

But having access to a kitchen inside a home was definitely a perk of returning to the village. For Sasuke, Konoha was a place where his home happened to be, and for Sakura, Konoha was always going to be home. Even if they couldn’t control the chaos outside the village walls, they at least had a warm kitchen to always return to.

A few days later, Sasuke returned home from the market with another apron, this one specifically for him: it was larger and free of (a specific pink) decoration. He hadn’t noticed how messy they could get while cooking and feeding Sarada until he did laundry recently. He always managed to get sauce splattered on his pants while cooking. Sarada was normally a good eater, but smashed peas often ended up on his shirt after dinner. Even on the darker fabrics he preferred, some stains just wouldn’t come out.

“Oh, but it’s so plain. At least let me sew the clan symbol on it?” Sakura rubbed the thick material of the apron between her fingers. It was so much longer than hers, Sasuke is so tall! Should she make a pocket? How big should the fan be? Should she sew his name on it too?

“Sakura the food is burning!” Sasuke was taking off his shoes and playing with Sarada by the door while Sakura examined the apron, so neither of them noticed the rising smoke until it was too late. Sakura rushed back to the stove to turn down the heat, but the damage had been done. Their meal was torched. Toasted. Singed. Seared. Charred. Fire style jutsu-ed. “That’s what I get for trying to speed up the process by using high heat,” Sakura sighed. Work had been long and taxing, she really didn’t want to spend more time chopping vegetables, but dinner wasn’t going to cook itself.

But thankfully, Sasuke was there to save the day (as he so often did). She felt his large, warm hand come to rest on the small of her back and at first she thought he was just trying to comfort her. But then his fingers fiddled around behind her and undid her apron’s knot. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have distracted you,” he said mirthfully. “I’ll fix it or just make something else. Go sit.”

Sakura meekly shuffled away, grabbing Sarada to play on the couch. She wondered how she got so lucky.

After stealing several peeks at Sasuke’s broad back in the kitchen, Sakura carried Sarada over to him. “She wants to know if she can help,” Sakura held Sarada up and covered her own face. Sarada squirmed and babbled in her hands, making Sasuke smile. She would be talking, as in actually able to articulate her own sentences, soon enough.

“She can be our official taste tester.” He wasn’t going to let Sakura worry about dinner, but he also could never deny her attempts at having a little fun. He took a small spoonful of broth and blew on it until it had cooled considerably. He brought the spoon to Sarada’s mouth and guided it in.

She spit half of it up onto her white bib, but giggled loudly afterwards. “I think that means she likes it?”

“Mom, can I borrow your apron? I wanted to make ChoCho something for her birthday, it’s tomorrow,” Sarada called out from the kitchen where she was poking around and gathering ingredients for a cake. She had only ever made one with the help of her mother, but it couldn’t be that hard, right?

Sakura came in from the living room, “Oh, sure! It might be a little big on you though. We should just get you your own, even your dad has one.”

The thought of her father wearing an apron covered in tomatoes made Sarada freeze. Papa? Has his own apron?

“Well, he used to use mine, but then we weren’t able to cook at the same time. His would definitely be too big for you.” Sakura opened up a cabinet and pulled out her well-loved cherry blossom apron, plus a larger, blue apron with the Uchiha symbol in the center. It would definitely be too big on Sarada.

But Sarada always missed her father, so she asked shyly, “Can I wear dad’s? I’ll probably get really messy, so I need it to cover all of my clothes.” Sakura smiled at her and helped her put it on. Even though she tied the strings extra tight, Sarada was still swimming in the blue fabric. It didn’t feel wrong, though.

As she went along with baking the cake, she always made sure to avoid wiping her hands on the clan symbol. After learning about her family’s history, she had a certain reverence for the Uchiha. The fan represented her ancestors, her family past and present, and as silly as it was, she didn’t want to dirty it. When she pulled the finished cake out of the oven, she noticed the intense heat didn’t bother her as much now that she had become more proficient in fire style.

After frosting the cake with a simple birthday message, Sarada finally cleaned up, satisfied with her work. She was reluctant to take the apron off and part with another piece of her father. She wondered what kind of food he made when he wore this apron. Were there any Uchiha family recipes he could share? Maybe next time he was home, Sarada could make him something too

A/N: Like I said, this is just one part to a larger project, we will post the full thing soon enough but we’ve been working hard on it for a while. And again do not repost! Show Aliss some love on her accounts pwease she is the best <3 and happy Valentine’s Day!!

#sasusaku #sss fam #uchiha fam #Uchiha Sakura #Sasuke Uchiha #sarada uchiha #my writing #fan art #alisstairs #valentines day

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bertytravelsfar · 4 years

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Ten Years - Ten Fics

Ten years of Sherlock deserves marking, and for me, the best bit about Sherlock is the fans. What a talented bunch of buggers you are! You embroider, knit, rhyme, sing, paint, draw, crochet, role-play, photograph and manip, quilt, bake, cosplay, discuss, meet up and write some of the best fanfiction there is. This is my tiny contribution to today’s proceedings - my (current) favourite ten fics and why -hey, maybe you have missed one of these. Who knows?

I watched from the first episode and I read from about 2015 but didn’t pick up a pen until 2017 when life gave me a little hiatus of my own. I thought I’d written my last story and that I was a very lucky reader to be in such an active, skilled fandom, but the lure of Sherlock and John pulled me back into writing and I’m thrilled that they did. I’ve read a lot of stories and have been amused, entertained, devastated, enthralled and delighted by the range of work out there. So here are my current top ten (which was as hard as hell to pick!). Ask me next month and it will different again, but on this anniversary day, these are the stories that fill me with Sherlock-y love and appreciation for this incredible fandom.Read the tags before you partake in the feast - my cup of tea might not be yours! In no particular order —

The Ice Skating AU - Working on the Edges by earlgreytea68.

What can I say about this one that hasn’t already been said? This is a recognisable John and Sherlock but in a totally AU field. Sherlock is a figure skater, John is a hockey player and it’s the Winter Olympics. The supporting cast are all there and I was on the edge of my seat the whole time as I read it. The dialogue is spot on, the excitement is hold your breath-worthy. One of the first things I read in Sherlock fandom and has never been out of my top ten since.

The Mountain Rescue AU - Whiteout by sincewhendoyoucalme_John.

Based on The Horn, this is a story about AirZermatt - the mountain rescue helicopter crew. Their rescue expert is Sherlock Holmes and their paramedic is John Watson. Again the rest of the cast are in there somewhere, cleverly placed. This story is a punch in the heart and saves the biggest one until the end, when you see the story behind it. Written like an episode, it follows the action as a camera crew filming a documentary, which gives it an extra twist as John and Sherlock try to avoid the cameras. It’s top ten because of the tension, the evasion and the epilogue.

The Friends to Lovers Fic - What Friends Do by agirlsname.

This story took my breath away. Stunning voices and flawless writing in a story about Sherlock’s naivety when John moves in with him. He has no reference point, never before having had a friendship like the one he has with John. And John, although nominally in the wrong here, is just as adrift as Sherlock is, in his way. A gorgeous, delicate dance of falling in love and feeling betrayed. Also, because I fangirl-ed the author SO hard on this one, she became a friend instead of telling me to stop being weird, as she should have done!

The Dark Materials Crossover - The Republic of Heaven by Blind_Author.

Even if you haven’t read Philip Pullman’s classic series, this story is a treasure. In a world where everyone has a daemon, John and Sherlock and their friends are misfits, thrown together by chance. Moriarty is the new whisper on the underground and as the boys and their daemons become embroiled in this new danger, it’s their differences that will be the deciding factor. I’m a sucker for soul-mates like the daemons in this story, and even when the boys are being slow about it, their interactions are gorgeous.

The Classic - The Quiet Man by ivyblossom

All in John’s POV, this story has a place in the all time Sherlock Hall of Fame. After the Fall, John is not doing very well, and even when his friend is returned to him, John still struggles to keep reality and dreams apart. It is heartbreakingly immersive as we watch Dr Watson struggle, written as this is, in the style of an inner monologue. Fascinating, affecting and stylish.

The Hot One - The Great Sex Olympics of 221B by XistentialAngst.

This list wouldn’t be complete without the story that has made a lot of Johnlockers VERY happy. This story is one that takes you by surprise, expecting x-rated shenanigans (which you get, oh yes!) but with a side order of brilliant character work. Oooooh! at the good times, Awwwwww! at the sweetness and sigh with happiness at the ending. And a good time was had by all.

The Folk Tale Story - The Curse of the Cool Coat by IncognitoBae

From my incoherent notes, I believe I enjoyed this one quite a lot! It’s a retelling of the Selkie myth with Sherlock as the Selkie and John as the man who falls in love with him. It’s beautiful and wistful and clever, with great voices. With an unusual style and at just under 5K words, it’s not long, but every word has impact. A beautiful story, well told.

The Classic II - Points by Lifeonmars

In my notes on this story I have written, ‘If John had to have a Mary, this is the Mary he deserved.’ A fix-it, it is a long, sweet, slow build towards what we always already knew and they did too, ultimately - that Sherlock and John were made for each other. Lovely, lovely, lovely.

The WIP - Noctiluca Scintillans by Alexaprilgarden

I don’t normally read WIPs. I have read too many that have left me high and dry. This one is one I have made an exception for. And AU, teenlock story it begins with two boys on holiday without their parents for the first time. Meeting on a campsite in France, the writing in this story is so visceral that you cannot help but be drawn in by their emerging love affair. Sunshine, sand, sea and angst - the boys are just how I imagined teenaged John and Sherlock would be. It has two more chapters to come, but with so much to savour I can wait.

The Go-to Happiness Fic - Because Blah Blah Blah Happy by cwb

This story has saved many a day for me. Feeling low, feeling worn down, feeling anxious - whatever it is, this story brings a grin to my face and a lightness to my heart. It’s hilariously written but with a sweet message and I want to leave more kudos than I’m allowed to avoid scaring the author! John has had it with Sherlock’s ways and writes him a list of grievances. Laugh out loud funny and wipe a tear from your eye happy!

The truth is I could go on and on - there are SO DAMN MANY PERFECT STORIES in this fandom and a hundred other authors whose work I want to highlight here, more 10/10 fics than I can pick from. Writers who are still here, others who have moved on, some who turn out brilliant work over and over, and others who write one perfect story and call it quits.

Again, if you want to read any of these, then read the tags! Most are M or E, and some of the have trigger topics in them.I’d love to read anyone else’s top ten, if they can narrow it down and I look forward to writing my next top ten - maybe for my birthday later this year.

So thank you, Sherlock Fandom. Congratulations on being Ten Years Old!

Remember - Read Safely - Watch the Tags - Feed the Authors with kudos!

#johnlock fic recs #my top ten #thegameisstillon #ten years of sherlock

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randomoranges · 4 years

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Birthday Gifts [Je t’aime sans retenue]

There’s a soft knock at the guestroom door and both dog and master turn their heads in time to see the door open. Edward steps in, closes the door behind him and then waits for a sign that he’s welcomed in. Étienne nods and places the book he’d been reading down (something borrowed off Edward’s shelf – nothing of consequence, but easy enough to distract him during the quiet moments of the night, when the rest of the household has gone to bed and he’s left with nervous energy coursing through his veins. He’d paint, but he hasn’t his materials. He’d draw, but he lacks his usual motivation.)

“There he is, Mr. Birthday Boy himself,” Edward says as he walks towards the bed. Mercury looks at him, wondering if she needs to move and finally Étienne pats the spot by his chest and she trots over, happy to be closer to her master. She curls up by his side, while Edward sits at the foot of the bed.

“My birthday is over, Ed,” Étienne says, quiet, but Edward rolls his eyes and assures him that here, in Edmonton, it is still May 17th and thus, it’s still his birthday. Étienne doesn’t add to that and let’s him cajole him for a moment.

“So, boyfriend, huh?” Edward asks and Étienne freezes for a moment, tensing, recalling the comment he had let slide earlier while on call with his sister. He hadn’t thought Edward had heard – figured if he had then he didn’t mind, but now he wonders if he had crossed some line too fast too soon and he has an apology ready at his lips, not sure what for, but wanting to stop this situation from getting worse, but Edward reaches for his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, “It’s fine, Bouclé – more than fine, really, I’m just surprised you said it,” He offers instead, warm, easy smile gracing his lips and the ricocheting mess that is Étienne’s heart quiets down for a moment, lulled by Edward’s reassurance.

“I was surprised too,” He admits. He hadn’t given it much thought – the words had spilled forth on an impulse, but – it had felt right, as if they had been stewing in the back of his mind for days and weeks and months and years. So many years. He had been afraid – so afraid to take that step and now that they are on a different chapter of their relationship, he had taken a leap forward, impulsive, as always, and he can only hope he won’t regret it later.

Edward shifts and gets closer, sits next to him by the empty side of the bed – a spot big enough for another person, truth be told – and wraps an arm around Étienne’s shoulders to pull him in close; Mercury jumps off when she realises that her space on her master’s chest is being usurped and goes off to find a better place to rest, still close to Étienne. Étienne goes willingly, furrows his face in Edward’s chest and feels some of his previous anxiety ebb away.

“Off to bed then?” He asks, a moment later, trying to regain whatever composure he’s never really had. He figures it’s the only reason as to why Edward’s here – to wish him a pleasant night and then retire to his own room with Calvin, down the hall and to the left and such. (Or whatever the new configuration is. He doesn’t stop to ponder.) All he knows is that he’s in the guestroom and he gets it – but, it still feels weird. Being here and not being with Edward. So far, Edward has spent more nights in his own room than here with him. It’s fine, really. This is all still new and tentative and a careful brush stroke on a new canvas, but – he still feels like a stranger and not like himself, in so many different ways.

“Thought maybe you’d like some company tonight, if you want – and it’s your birthday and all...” It’s a good thing there is still one part of his brain that reminds him that Edward is also figuring this out – that they’re all figuring out the steps to this weird dance they’ve started. He knows it would help if his mind didn’t feel like it had been plunged into some box and tossed into the back of a closet to be forgotten and accumulate dust, but he manages a nod and relaxes when Edward starts playing with his hair. That, at least, feels familiar and is at the very least comforting, even if he still wishes he could muster enough energy not to feel like a legume at all times.

For a moment, he wishes he could go back to February – to how he felt before. (And isn’t that something, that he wishes he could go back to the dead of winter), but at least then life made a little bit more sense and he felt more sure footed with plans and things he could do. Now he feels trapped, isolated and disconnected from nearly everything he loves (and even then.)

It’s strange to think that even though he’s here with people – even though he gets daily hugs and kisses – has slightly more freedom than he would back home, he still feels like a stranger in a strange place. Doesn’t know the people, the crowd, or the vibe. Doesn’t know what his place is in this household and feels worse for wear when he knows he’s got it easy, when so many others have it so much worse. He tries to keep the morale, talks it over with his friends, his therapist, with Edward, hell, even with Calvin, but – there’s still something missing – some detail he’s looked over and that has escaped.

“If it’s not too much trouble...” He’d hate to think that Edward sees him as an obligation. That he’s doing this because it’s his birthday and otherwise wouldn’t have bothered – would have gone back to his own bedroom with Calvin and would have left him here alone. He’s about to change his mind, tell Edward he’s tired and was going to call it a night, but Edward is a step ahead of him on this, tips his chin up ever so gently so that he could look at him – and Étienne would like to look away, escape the hazel gaze he knows too well, but he finds that he can’t.

“It’s never too much trouble.” He says with all the conviction of the world and so Étienne tricks his mind into believing the words. Let’s himself grow boneless into Edward’s arms, Mercury safely close by.

“Thanks for today, by the way,” Étienne adds. It’s been a – different birthday, so to say. He can’t say it’s been terrible, so he doesn’t. It’s the first one he’s really spent with Edward in a long time and he tries to recall if Edward was ever there for his birthday when it was this quiet. When they got to spend the day together without running from one place to the next. His mind tells him no, but he’s certain there must have been at least one time... “You didn’t have to do all that.” All that was the birthday cake and the presents. The rotisserie style chicken made from scratch with St-Hubert seasoning and sauce Edward had Élyse send over. It’s too much. No one is this kind or generous. No one simply opens their doors for a “friend” to stay for as long as needed. No one flies out a friend out of worry.

Étienne is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Edward to tell him that it’s been nice, but he’d like his privacy now. Étienne is still convinced that he’s in the way – that he’s interrupting some special alone time Calvin and Edward had been planning when this whole lockdown business came about – that they figured they could do all the indoor couple things they never had a chance to. That he’s only in their way. That they’re being nice to him out of some sense of obligation or moral code that will eventually break. (He ignores the fact that he would have done the same – would have gone out of his way to help someone as important to him as Edward. But that’s different. He knows himself. He thinks he knows Edward, but. There’s still no way Calvin is this okay with everything. He wouldn’t be. (He isn’t really, but he’s trying so damn hard. Maybe Calvin is too.))

“It’s your birthday; even though the world is a clusterfuck, we can still try and highlight some of the good in it – and you’re definitely part of the good.” There’s another soft kiss placed to his cheek and Étienne tries his best not to break apart all over again. There’s been too much of that lately and he’s frankly tired of it. Whatever defensive strategies he once had are now gone and Edward seems to be good at finding every last brick to the emotional walls he’s used for years.

Étienne kisses him instead, mostly because he wants to, partially because it will get Edward to quit saying such things that may just make his heart stop its skittering mess of beats and Edward goes pliant in his arms, parting his lips for him and meets him halfway. It’s a little greedier than this morning and Étienne manages to pin Edward to the bed and straddles his waist. This, at least, is more up to his speed and this, at least, is something he knows how to do even if his mind has gone off and wandered elsewhere, never to be seen again. He’s good at this. He can do this with his eyes closed. He can do this without even being aware of it (has done it, far too many times, without even being coherently aware – even with Edward.)

He feels like he’s been wasting time and opportunities, now that he has Edward at such close proximity. The hugs and kisses are nice, sure, and it is pretty much all he wants at the moment, but he feels as though he should want more. As though he needs to make best of this strange opportunity. Make up for lost time and store some for later, when they won’t be under the same roof. He doesn’t feel like it, honestly, doesn’t feel like much, but he fears that Edward will cast him aside if he doesn’t deliver on what he’s known for, so he puts himself in motion, going through the actions he’s done so many times before.

Edward lets him lead, lets him touch, lets him kiss and nip and tug and pull and lets him get whatever he needs to get out of his system, until they’re both shirtless and a little out of breath. Étienne isn’t looking for soft, or for affection – feels like he needs to prove a point that there’s still some of his gritty essence buried in the mess of his head – that this is what Edward’s signing up for and is it really what he wants – that he’s still a broken mess and is he really worth the trouble, but Edward reaches up for him, gentle as all else, and caresses his face with loving fingers and whatever Étienne had been trying to prove breaks off and leaves him aching.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know?” Edward tells him, once more reading his mood better than he can at times. “I didn’t come to your room with the intent of having sex; if we do it’s fine, but I came here because I wanted to be with you,” He adds and Étienne’s cheeks flush for a different reason, ashamed and embarrassed.

Étienne falls back next to Edward and wishes he could disappear. He hopes maybe Edward will let him be, that maybe he’ll be disgusted and leave, but Edward spoons behind him and presses himself close, kisses his bare shoulder. His arms come around him and Étienne hates how small he feels or the tears that threaten to fall. Most of all he hates how empty and alone he still feels inside. He hates the perceived distance between him and Edward he knows isn’t really there, but that plagues his mind. He hates that he’s like this. A perpetual mess left at the mercy of others.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay, Étienne,” Edward is gentle as he properly gathers him in his arms. There’s some manoeuvring, pillows are fixed and propped up and Étienne lets Edward jostle him until he finds himself being held against Edward’s chest, while Edward cradles him close, sitting up against the pillows and the headboard.

“I’m sorry – I’m sorry I’m still such a mess – I thought I was doing better,” He admits and he tries to keep it together – tries to seem like he has some semblance of control, but he can’t anymore and gives up, letting himself crumble into Edward’s arms. Luckily, Edward is kind and ever so patient and holds him close as he murmurs reassuring things in his ear. He lets him recompose himself and stays even when he could have easily left. A moment or two or maybe even more pass and eventually Étienne calms down enough to be coherent again. Edward hands him a tissue and Étienne wipes at his eyes and blows his nose. He feels a little better, as though he’s evacuated something foul from his soul and he supposes it’s a start.

“You know it’s never been about the sex,” Edward reiterates, “I love you for more than sex,” And, logically, Étienne knows – or at least, he tells himself he knows, but now he wonders if he really did – if he ever truly believed that someone could love him without the sex. If that was even a thing. If he was ever worthy of more than just sex. “Don’t get me wrong,” Edward continues, carding his fingers through Étienne’s curls, “I enjoy the intimate things we do together, but I also enjoy spending time with you doing everything else. I love you for who you are, Étienne, sex or no sex, always have and always will.”

Étienne hugs him close. Holds onto him and tries to burn the words into his skin – to remember them for the next time he feels like he’s drowning from the inside – to have them close when he feels far. Edward does his best, presses gentle kisses to Étienne’s brow and his cheek, until they resettle. Étienne is glad he’s here – gladder still that Edward is here with him and when he tells him as much, he’s rewarded with the softest of smiles. Étienne asks if Edward will kiss him – not because they have to, but because he would like to, and Edward is more than happy to comply. Étienne even manages a joke, old as it may be, and reminds Edward that he’d never gotten a proper chance to finish off his earlier countdown of birthday kisses. It makes Edward laugh and he picks up from where he left off, promising to make it back to 1642 – one kiss for every birthday.

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #projocanondoko #fic #the conclusion of the birthday fics

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ofwizardsandmen · 5 years

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I like me better when I’m with you

Characters: Tara Lee, Mark Yang, Tyler Lee (briefly).

Word count: 3,9k

Genre: angst, fluff

OST: Ed Sheeran - Hearts Don't Break Round Here

A knock on the door interrupts Tara from staring soullessly at the screen of her laptop. It’s only been a couple of hours since she left the Yang Residence and yet she has completely lost track of time. She can’t remember how long she’s been sitting on her bed, wrapped in a duvet, but the memories of her conversation with Mark are all vague and hazy, like scenes from a Frank Capra film.

Yet, it is probably the hopeful melodies or the fact Julie Andrews’ sweet innocence in The Sound of Music always manages to put her in a good mood, but Tara almost feels like she’s been transported to some benevolent alternate universe where she’s just a regular Oxford student chilling at home on a summer night and procrastinating her summer school paper for Medieval Literature.

There are no boys.

No magic.

No famous ex-boyfriend or fake fiancé.

It is just Tara and her muggle musical.

“I’m fine, Ty” Tara whines as Captain von Trapp walks into Maria’s room and finds his children singing along My Favorite Things. “Go to sleep!” Mentally cursing at her brother for disturbing her hardly-found peace of mind, Tara pulls the fluffy duvet tighter under her chin.

Another knock

Tara lets the duvet fall to her shoulders, feeling as though she doesn’t have the strength to deal with anything right now.

“Ty, seriously…” she utters wearily. “I want to be alone-”

“I’m coming in” A voice that definitely doesn’t belong to her brother announces.

A second later, the door gapes open and Tara’s ex-boyfriend walks in, closing the door behind him.

Mark’s presence catches Tara off guard. From all the people she could’ve expected to see, her ex looking aggravatingly good was definitely not on top of her list, so she nearly chokes in her inhale.

With her heart picking up, Tara pauses the movie and then holds on to the duvet tightly. Almost as if her life depended on it.

And yes. It is a life-threatening situation if you consider that Tara can’t imagine a greater humiliation than letting Mark see the sweatshirt she’s wearing beneath. It is one of the many clothes she had raid from his closet during her last visit to Seoul, claiming that she would use them whenever she missed him.

Why did she have to be so freaking ridiculous? That is beyond Tara understanding, but now, letting him see that goddammed sweatshirt on her would be yet another moral defeat on the same day. Not to mention it would be downright mortifying.

“Hey” Mark stands at the door, his hands shoved in the pockets of his favorite bomber jacket as Tara holds on the duvet for dear life.

“What are you doing here?” She turns her head in the other direction as if her vanity was the most interesting piece of furniture she’s ever seen.

At her sour expression, Mark’s expression falls. For a split of a second he seems to be unable to form a coherent sentence or push himself to do anything at all, but eventually, he quietly steps towards Tara and without saying a single word he sits on the edge of the bed.

But Tara avoids his eyes. She can’t bring herself to look at him because his presence is suddenly reliving the embarrassment and humiliation she felt during their conversation earlier that day.

“I saw the album,” Mark says, his breath hitching as Tara blinks twice without really understanding what he means. “Jae said it was a present from you”.

With the trauma of facing Mark, she has almost forgotten about his birthday gift. Of course, she now regrets spending so much time putting together a photo book with pictures of the two from childhood up to the months previous to their breakup. If she had known Mark was going to behave the way he did, Tara would’ve accepted Enzo’s invitation and instead of the comfort of her bed, she would be on a luxurious yacht sailing the Greek Islands. Or she would’ve asked Tyler to lock her in her room so there were no more chances to land on the cover of scandal-hungry tabloids and gossip sites. Yes, she likes the second idea better.

But no, against her better judgment, she went to visit her ex-boyfriend so he could shatter her pride in pieces and humiliate her.

“And I’m truly sorry” Without another word, Mark reaches to pull Tara to his chest. Initially, he meets resistance from her part. She briefly struggles to free herself, but when her name escapes from Mark’s lips in a soft whisper that makes her feel a wonderful sense of loosening inside, she gives in with a sigh. Too exhausted and emotionally drained to fight him back, she also lets go of the duvet in favor of letting Mark wrap his arms around her.

“I’m so, so sorry, T” He repeats as his hands move to stroke her hair and pat her back gently, slightly desperate to show he how apologetic he truly is. “I am sorry”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Tara speaks, her voice breathy with a contained chuckle.

“I know”

Mark is so thankful when she wraps her arms around him and buries her face against his chest that his heart races embarrassingly and his throat moves when he swallows. Yet, Tara seems unfazed, wrapped in her own thoughts and the scent of oolang and bergamot from Mark’s signature perfume combined with the faint smell of Febreze that Taeyong uses religiously in their clothes.

Mark smells like spring and his embrace makes Tara feel like home, so she stays that way for a few minutes, eyes closed, easily sinking into his arms and basking in the familiarity of it all. It is just a simple hug, but it conveys their feelings with much greater clarity than words could have; it is almost a reminder of easier days when everything was less tangled and a simple hug could put everything back in its right place.

Now everything seems as it could be fine.

That is, of course, until she pulls away and notices Mark’s eyes brimming with tears.

It’s probably too soon to draw conclusions, but for some reason it makes Tara’s former optimism deflate.

Not like this is the first time Tara sees Mark cry. Oh no, she has seen him cry plenty of times before, although when she tells those stories to other people, they believe she’s making them up because Mark is a strong man by any standard and he has never shown any sign of weakness in front of anyone else. Particularly not in front of his bandmates or his fans.

People regard Mark as always cool and collected, that one person who always knows what to say and what people expect from him. He didn’t cry when his group reached the Nº1 spot for the first time in the South Korean charts, nor during his first concert or that time he injured himself in a rather foolish fashion and subsequently skipped a whole round of promotions with his group. If you were to ask anyone, Mark is described as a hardworking young man with a somewhat detached and serene outlook on life.

But that is Mark, the rapper of NCT. The Mark Yang sitting next to Tara cried when she went to Hogwarts for the first time and when their first bunny died. Mark cries over a sad movie plot and whenever he misses his family. The Mark Tara knows is anything but detached. He is loving and slightly clingy, although he always justifies himself claiming that he barely spends time with his loved ones.

That’s exactly why doubt wings through Tara when her eyes fix on Mark. Granted, her concern is slightly unreasonable given the circumstances and their unspoken reconciliation, but she knows him by heart and he looks merely appalled.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, eyeing him suspiciously

“Nothing” He musters dismissively. Tara doesn’t know he’s fighting hard to keep the tears at bay, but she can guess, by the way he bits on his lower lip, that there’s something he wants to tell her. And she simply expects the worst.

“Then what’s with that expression?” she says, forcing a soft laugh. “You look as though you’ve murdered someone.”

Mark doesn’t respond. There is silence and then a simple head motion

“I don’t know how bad this actually is or if Jane will be able to fix it before it goes out, but…” A frustrated breath slips from Mark’s lips and he moves to grab Tara’s hand “Earlier today I kinda told a reporter we had broken up.”

“What?” Tara’s eyes narrow in confusion.

“Listen T, I am really sorry, I just…” Mark runs his free hand through his hair “I got this question about you and the rumors and I-“ he tightens his grip on her hand “I just lost it. I saw that article on the news and I don’t know what got into me. Please, forgive me, I didn’t mean to-“

Amusement swirling in her chest, Tara doesn’t even attempt to hold in a laugh.

“Mark, people have been speculating about our break up for weeks and if they couldn't tell yet after the pictures of you and Mindy walking by the hand late at night” She said the last bit with the tiniest bit of accusation in her voice “They probably did after the headlines of this morning, so unless you had told them I cheated on you or that you hated me, I think we’ll be ok”

“No, I would never” Mark says softly, once again wrapping himself around Tara “I only said that we broke up and I wished not to be asked any more questions about the topic”

“An answer straight from the idol book. Well done” Tara laughs, but still, that emotion written on Mark’s face —that she recognizes as guilt— doesn’t seem to go away. “Oh, come on, Mark, change that expression! What’s wrong now?” Tara rolls her eyes, looking at him over her shoulder.

“I…” He falters “I also made you cry”

“When did you?” Tara asks, moving away from the hug and turning so they’re finally face to face. “I haven’t cried” She frowns, although her slightly puffed eyes aren’t painting the most convincing picture.

“Tyler told me” Mark smiles with a swift rise of his cheekbones. If Tara didn’t know him better she would assume that he is amused.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself” Tara scoffs, but Mark is still smiling at her with a sort of smug twinkle in his eyes.

“I hate I made you cry, I really do.” He says solemnly “But the fact you did…” Mark finds the auspicious moment to caress Tara’s face with his thumbs, making her huff once she notices his cheeks going all squishy and his eyes crinkling in a smile.

She would definitely be offended if she didn’t know there’s no malice to it, just Mark’s attempts to lighten up the mood.

“I swear I will never make you cry again” He says, interlacing their hands “Please, don’t ever cry again” Mark places a gentle kiss on her cheek before adding “Plebeians like me don’t deserve the tears of a princess”

Tara cringes and laughs, smacking Mark’s arm softly

“That’s so cheesy” she complains, faking a retching noise. “Please never repeat that”

“Why?” Mark catches Tara’s fist before it lands on his chest, pulling her towards him for the umpteenth time. It almost feels like he wants to make up for the lost time and Tara is not in a position to complain or criticize him because the longing is mutual so she only throws her arms around his neck, shaking her head. “Yo, it’s true though…” Mark says, his boyish manners coming out in full force when he speaks.

“That you’re cheesy?” Tara jokes.

“That I am a plebeian and you are a real princess… my princess”

“Ugh… cheesy” Tara’s face contorts into what could be disgust, but a split so second later she bursts out laughing. Mark chuckles too, but he becomes solemn as his hands slide under Tara’s —his— sweatshirt and his fingers glide up her sides until they reach for the curve of her waist.

“No, but seriously, T… I’m sorry” he repeats as Tara plays with his hair distractedly “I was rude to you and that was just off-limits. Nothing justifies the way I behaved.”

“True” Tara concedes with a nod and a small smile spreading on her face.

“You didn’t deserve any of that and I apologize for it”

“True again. You were acting stupid” She replies simply, looking away as she removes her hands from Mark’s neck, a noticeable frown on her face “But I guess I can take that apology”

A hearty laugh fills the room when Mark realizes Tara is just faking the angered expression and seconds later she ends up throwing him a poorly executed wink.

“Thank you, T” The guy’s amusement quickly vanishes, a warm feeling of elation coming over him. It is the kind of feeling that makes you believe an enormous burden has been lifted from your shoulders and you can finally be at peace.

He beams, his smile so bright that it almost makes Tara feel blinded by it. Then, a teasing glint fills his eyes “Though now that I remember, you did call me an idiot…” he dramatically places a hand over his heart “That hurt”

“Should I even be sorry? You were acting like one” Tara states matter-of-factly. She raises a brow, trying to ignore the way Mark’s hands have returned to hold her at the waist pulling her closer.

“What?” Mark opens his mouth in an exaggerated fashion, pretending to take the offense.

“It’s true, you were acting like a di-” Tara stops midway, giggling as Mark tickles her sides. “Oh, come on!” Laughter escapes from her lips abundantly. “Mark... please…” She twists, fighting desperately to escape from his attack, but Mark continues to dig his fingertips on her sides, chuckling and occasionally letting out a full laugh.

“Please what?” He asks, watching amused how Tara tries to push him off with her knees.

“Stop!” She giggles “Please, Mark, stop!” She smacks his hands away when they reach her ribs and then places both her hands against his chest to stop him from ambushing her again “I’m sorry. Ok?” she says, catching her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious?” Mark’s doe eyes flutter open as though he can’t believe his ears and Tara only nods, still focused on regulating her breathing pace. “Oh T. Don’t be.” Mark places a hand over one of hers, squeezing it and pulling it to his lips to kiss it briefly “I actually deserved it because what you said back then was true. I was just trying to get back at you.”

“I know” Tara replies, wondering if Mark is aware of who he’s talking to. Of course she knew, even if he wasn’t fully aware back then, Tara knew. She always knows. “But that’s not what I’m sorry about. I also owe you an apology for the Mindy misunderstanding and the whole Darius scandal. Although it shouldn’t be a big deal, considering we had broken up, you still deserve to know nothing ever happened between him and I”

Mark blinks not fully sure of what to say next. He remains quiet, letting go of Tara’s hand but a grin —that he had dumbly tried to suppress— slowly makes its way onto his lips. Tara laughs because Mark, as always, is transparent as glass and the happiness that her statement causes him is not even close to been hidden.

“So you’re telling me nothing happened with the perfect Darius Black?” He questions skeptically, smug grin still plastered across his face.

“First of all wipe that grin off” Tara rolls eyes, her hand smacking Mark’s shoulder playfully “Don’t be such a smug jerk”

Mark could be offended, but he ignores that last part on behalf of attending a more urgent matter, which is finding out what Tara has been up to since their breakup. It is a question that has been torturing him for weeks, so he jumps in as soon as the opportunity presents.

Of course, Mark is not generally the jealous or possessive type, but watching the pictures of —his— Tara walking by the arm of another man —a man who had always shown more than just a casual friendly interest in her— had awoken something inside him.

“So?” Mark begins to feel the worm of jealousy squirming in his guts as he imagines Darius' hands roaming Tara’s body, his lips pressing against hers, hot and urgent, an image practically etched in his mind since the morning when he saw that goddamned picture of them looking like lovebirds on the news. “Nothing?” He has no other choice but to pretend to be ok, so he lets out a sigh, easing his chest from that emotional hell.

“Nothing” Tara says, shaking her head from side to side. “I’m offended you even ask.”

“You are a beautiful woman, Tara” Mark ignores her weak attempt to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Men hit on you all the time and that Darius is shamelessly obvious about want-“

“I know how to say no, Mark” Tara says seriously.

“Oh, so he did try to hit on you” Mark insists predictably, causing Tara to chuckle. “I knew he did. I mean, of course he would, you got all dressed up and looked so fine. He would’ve been stupid if he didn’t”

“Mark, seriously nothing happened” Tara interrupts, her voice a mixture of amusement and weariness. “He was just trying to be helpful” She speaks as though she is trying to explain a hypersensitive 4 year-old that 1 plus 1 equals 2, but Mark does nothing but to repeat her last word with a questioning eyebrow. It makes Tara aware of all the explaining left to do, but also gives her the urge of kissing away the furrow of his brows. “Listen” Tara swifts on the bed to reposition herself “I drank too much and he was just trying to keep me safe.” Tara admits, looking everywhere but at his face.

“What?” Mark’s voice suddenly goes harsh and Tara turns to find an unexpectedly tense-looking man staring at her. “Are you sure he didn’t try anything weird-?”

“No, he didn’t.” Tara places a hand on Mark’s thigh reassuringly, but can’t deny the odious thrill his protective side makes her feel. “Trust me, Mark. Enzo or Adela would’ve already killed him if he had”

“Ok” Mark’s face relaxes and he goes back to looking at Tara with the same smug grin from before and eyes alight with mischief “So?”

“So what?” Tara rolls eyes “What now?”

“So why did you reject him? Because I’m not gonna believe he didn’t ask you out” Mark speaks naturally, as though he had just formulated a question about something like the time or the weather. “As far as I know all your friends fawn over him and Jane keeps reminding me that he is one of the most eligible bachelors of... your world” He adds that last bit hesitant.

Tara makes a mental note to scold her friend later “He’s just not my type”

Mark huffs “Tall, blonde, green eyes and handsome is not your type?” He asks incredulously.

“Why are you being so annoying, Mark?” Tara moves until she’s leaning her back against the pillows and crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you want to hear? That I got drunk because I missed you and I already made out with most of Enzo’s friends at previous parties so I knew, as a matter of fact, I wasn’t going to get over you going out with someone else and acting like some immature teenager? Is that what you want to hear?” Tara snaps, but surprisingly, her voice is warped and tiny, twisted beyond recognition.

For a second Tara holds her breath expecting Mark to snap back at her. She watches his body stiffen, his face tense up, his eyes looking away from her. Then silence overcomes the room and she mentally smacks herself for every single decision she’s made that day.

“Hey” Mark pushes Tara out of her self-chastisement moment offering a hand a pulling her closer. “I’m sorry. I was just joking” he says, arms wrapping around her tightly “I didn’t realize what you went through.” Tara opens her mouth to say something, but Mark shakes his head and goes on. “That picture on the news… oh, God, T. It’s been driving me insane. I never knew how scared of losing you I was until this morning and I don’t want to feel like this ever again-“ Tara’s hand on his chin, silences Mark and when he looks at her, he’s surprised to find Tara smirking at him.

“Shut up. You have nothing to worry about” she pretends to pick inexistent pieces of fuzz from his jacket. “You know why?” Mark only shakes his head, making Tara scoff at him “Because you are the only person I’ve ever loved.” She says simply. “And I only have eyes for you”

"Hmm" Mark stares at her thoughtfully, almost as though he has been left at a loss for words, but between the smile on his face and the greedy way his hands clutch around her waist, Tara knows he has plenty of words to say. “You know what I really think?" He asks.

"No, but I bet you're going to tell me"

"I think maybe you’ve figured out no one can top me" It is impossible for Mark not to burst into laughter right after pronouncing such cringe-worthy words, his cheeks going a light hue of pink.

“Shut up” Although the muscles of her leg refuse to kick him to shut him up, Tara pushes him slightly.

“I’m kidding” He smooths down Tara’s hair, “But here’s a fact” He looks at her adoringly, clutching onto her with force “I love you, Tara Lee.”

“I love you too” Tara places a hand around his neck “Only you, Markie”

The two exchange a moment as they look into each other’s eyes, none of them daring to move, afraid to ruin the perfect harmony they’ve fallen into. Until Mark decides to break the silence, looking extra worried.

“Did we just miss the perfect timing to kiss?” He asks, dipping his head down to murmur into Tara’s ear.

“I think so” Tara is moving to press her lips against Mark’s when the door flies open.

“Absolutely not under this roof” Tyler barks, eyes throwing daggers at her sister’s boyfriend. “What does make you think I will let you kiss my sister right after you made her cry?”

Mark pulls away from Tara’s arms with such urgency that he nearly falls off the bed. She could’ve found it funny if she wasn’t so busy glaring at her brother.

“Were you listening to our conversation?” Tara forces a laugh, free of any true amusement. “Why are you acting like some creep?”

“Creep? I’m just protecting my little sister from-“ Tyler splutters, catching the way Tara is looking at him. “From some hormonal guy trying to take advantage of her”

“Just get out!” Tara reaches under her pillow for her wand and points it directly at her brother. There’s not even an ounce of hesitation in her eyes “I swear Tyler Lee…”

==============

“I’m sorry my brother is such a jerk” Tara says minutes later, apology evident on her face as she snuggles her head on Mark’s chest. They’re currently cuddling on his king-sized bed, surrounded by dozens of ridiculous pillows Mark has accumulated over the years. The Sound of Magic is playing on his state-of-the-art movie system; an unnecessary waste of money, as Jane had described it since he barely spent time in London, but one of the very few things Mark never hesitated to splurge on. After all, Tara liked watching movies and he enjoyed cuddling her on any normal day.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. He was actually kinda sweet earlier when he threatened to turn me into a toad if I didn’t go there and apologized to you” Tara gaps at that, looking at him with through slit eyes, so Mark is quick to add “which I was going to do anyway without angry brother involved. Well, Jae was already angry and involved, but you know what I mean...” He corrects himself, rambling about his older brother and patting Tara’s shoulder.

Both of them laugh at that, but then Mark sits up slightly and looks down at Tara.

“Speaking of what, Jason told me to look at the last picture in the album, but I forgot to. What’s so important about it?” Marks inquires, an eyebrow going up.

Tara’s eyes widen “You didn’t watch it yet?”

Mark shakes his head a “no”.

“You have to” She rolls eyes at him, moving to pause the movie just before Julie Andrews teaches the Von Trapp children how to “Do Re Mi”. “Now” She orders, pushing Mark off the bed.

Mark groans, but he ultimately gets up and crosses the room. Heis wearing plaid pajama bottoms, a white t-shirt, and rounded glasses. He looks so soft, Tara wonders how she ever believed, even for a second, that he could do anything that hurt her.

“I can’t believe you didn’t see the picture” Tara clicks her tongue when he picks the photo album from the bookshelf. “I thought you went to see me after recalling the good old times”

Mark says nothing, he only shifts the pages as Tara comes behind him and wraps her arms around his chest, tiptoeing to rest her chin on his shoulder. When he reaches the end of the album, he finds himself laughing shakily and blinking rapidly.

“Yo, where did you find this?” He turns to see Tara smiling brightly. “I thought your mother- wow, T. I can’t believe-“ Mark rambles barely making sense. He can’t believe Tara had recovered the first-ever photo they had taken together. Particularly because they had been convinced Tara’s mother had gotten rid of it when she attempted to erase all of Tara’s childhood memories. “I-” Mark’s fingers run over the photo, memories of that day suddenly surfacing in his mind. The picture had been taken on a day trip to the local zoo when they were barely four. Tara is sitting on a bench kicking her legs in the air, dressed in a tomboyish outfit that contrasts with the girly bag hanging from her shoulder. At her left, Mark is holding her hand, standing next to a monkey cage. Under the picture, in neat capital letters in pink ink, Tara had written: “Forever yours”.

“Forever yours” Mark recalls those words. They were part of the confession he’d made on their first trip to the beach together. It was the summer before he moved to Seoul and the first time he saw Tara in 6 months. They had carved a huge heart into the sand and decorated it with shells and pebbles, embossing their initials in the center and promising to love each other for eternity.

Tara says nothing. She waits for Mark to make a move and predictably, seconds later he places his hand on each side of Tara’s arms, rubbing small circles. “I am forever yours” In normal circumstances, Tara would be ready to clown the cheesiness of his words, but she only giggles, wraps her arms around his waist and lets Mark press his lips against her own.

It’s like coming home.

***

#tara #mark #story #tyler #otp #oc

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rightfulcaptxin · 5 years

Note

Five times + restaurant (from OMC Li)

Send me ‘five times + a word’ and I’ll write a drabble about our muses based on it. | Not Accepting | @anhonourablecaptain

He saw the man’s reflection in the glass doors before he registered the presence at his back. Keys still in hand, Edward turned as his new companion politely cleared his throat, and took a moment to study the handsome face, and the head of beautiful dark curls.

“Hi, sorry…” At once he heard the familiar musical lilt of Ireland in the man’s voice, something which brought a quick and easy smile to his face. “Are you the owner of this establishment?” He glanced up at the sign above the doors, and smiled. Anchorage.

“I am, yes.” Ed held out a hand to him. “Edward Teach.” He waited for some glimmer of recognition to cross the other man’s face, but none came.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Teach.” He took the offered hand, and smiled. “I’m Liam Jones. I just have a few questions for you, if that’s okay? There was an incident across the street a couple of days ago, and there’s a chance that you or another member of staff might have noticed something that could help us. If not…” Another glance up, at the cameras positioned on the outside of the building. “Perhaps you would allow me to inspect your security footage?” He fished into a pocket, drawing out an ID badge. “I won’t take up too much of your time.”

Ed inspected the badge, and gave a nod. “Sure, I’ll do what I can to help.” He lingered a moment longer, watching him curiously. “Why don’t you come on in? I was just about to open up ready for the lunch crowd, so…”

“Oh, excellent.” Liam smiled warmly, gesturing for him to lead the way. As Ed unlocked the restaurant doors and guided him inside, Liam glanced around at the nautical themed decor. “So, are you a chef, Mr Teach? Or do you manage front of house?”

Ed could only stare at him, before he smiled again. That confirmed it. This man had no idea who he was.

—

“Thank you for doing this, Ed. I can’t stress how grateful I am.” Liam hovered by the pass, watching his partner move around the kitchen beyond the ‘window’. He already knew better than to venture into the actual kitchen area - at least, not when the restaurant was open and in business. Or, preparing to open. Generally he’d only ever been allowed back there after closing. Once.

“Aye, you’ve said. About four times in the last hour, actually.” Ed muttered, hands busy with preparations. He didn’t look up when he spoke - anyone else might have considered him distracted, not really paying attention to the conversation, but Liam knew better. He’d watched Ed work in his kitchen at home enough times to know he was more than capable of doing about thirty things at once. Probably.

“Sorry, I just… I know it’s last minute, and I hate to disrupt-,”

“Liam.” Ed did turn to him then, fixing him with a look that suggested he needed to stop before their conversation inched closer to an argument. “I said it’s no trouble.” When his words were met with a tense silence, he sighed, and crossed to the other side of the pass. Wordlessly, he leant through the gap and tugged Liam into a quick kiss. “Relax. You’re not disrupting anything.”

“Good.” Liam visibly relaxed, a smile creeping onto his face. He studied Ed’s expression for a moment, and his smile lifted into a grin. “But let me guess - get out of my kitchen?”

“You’re only going to hover and get in my way if you stand there.” Ed waved him off. “Head on back to my office, read a book or something until the place opens. I’ll take care of everything else.” When Liam opened his mouth to speak, he held up a hand. “If the words ‘thank you’ are about to come out of your mouth again, I swear to god…”

“Okay, okay. Understood.” Since Ed was still there, within reach, he leant over to steal another kiss. “If you can whip up a rum cake for Killian, I’ll be your dessert tonight.” He murmured, keeping his voice low - aware that Ed’s kitchen staff could easily be listening in. He ducked his head quickly and hurried off to Ed’s office, leaving his partner standing at the pass, watching him go.

Ed shook his head with a daft grin on his face. Throwing a last-minute dinner party for his boyfriend’s younger brother was definitely going to earn him some favours, it seemed.

—

Ed had long ago picked up on the handful of small tells Liam had that told him the other man was frustrated. Currently, sat across from him in a fine restaurant, he was exhibiting several of them at once. Ed felt the faintest stab of guilt - for he knew he was responsible for it.

Liam was quite easy to embarrass in certain situations, and the man hated being embarrassed in public. He hadn’t missed how Liam had sunk lower in his chair, shielding his face with one hand as he picked at his meal with his fork - no doubt hoping the ground would open up and swallow him - as he had argued with the waiter regarding his own plate.

People had definitely turned to watch as he’d demanded to speak with the chef who, quite clearly, didn’t know how to cook a steak properly at all - and for the price they were charging, he expected a certain quality that he wasn’t receiving. Since the matter had been resolved - though he would definitely be making complaints afterwards - Liam had said nothing more to him, simply eating in silence and avoiding his gaze. Except to decline an offer of dessert, he hadn’t said a word.

Knowing it would boil over eventually, Ed waited until they were leaving the restaurant and heading for the car before he turned to Liam, catching his hand to stop him walking away. “I’m sorry.” Liam still didn’t look at him, and Ed sighed. “You know I can’t turn it off, Li. And honestly, I don’t know what that idiot did to that piece of meat but he certainly didn’t cook it-,”

“This was supposed to be a nice evening, Ed.” Liam cut in, finally meeting his eyes. “We hardly ever get chance to go out to dinner together, and I wanted to enjoy it. Instead, you made a scene, and then everyone was looking at us, and the evening was ruined.” He sighed, wearily. “Can we just go home now?”

“Hey.” Ed lifted his other hand, and cupped Liam’s cheek gently. “I’m sorry, Li. Really. I admit, I could have handled it better…” When Liam scoffed, Ed felt the faintest spark of irritation - but he held it back. He wasn’t going to ruin their date even further if he could help it. “I know I have high standards. Look… how about we swing by the restaurant on the way home, and I’ll grab us some dessert?” He laced his fingers with Liam’s, and gave his hand a squeeze. “The night’s not over yet, love. Let me make it up to you.” Liam said nothing for a moment, and then he sighed again.

“Fine. But you’ve a lot to make up for.” Despite the firm delivery of the words, Ed felt his partner give his hand a squeeze in return.

—

If there was one thing Ed had never imagined he’d do in his kitchen… well, it was definitely this.

Leaning back against one of the storage cupboards, he dragged fingers through the damp tangles of his hair, a satisfied smile on his face. With his breath still returning to a more natural rhythm, he cast a glance about him at the disarray they’d caused.

Liam stirred beside him, pushing himself upright to lean against him. Ed’s arm automatically curled around his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin against his own. There was still a delicious flush creeping down Liam’s neck to his chest, and Ed had the sudden urge to chase it with his lips - but given where that was likely to lead, he figured they should at least take five first.

“I’m going to have to clean up in here before we go.” He murmured after a moment, glancing down at where Liam had pillowed his head onto his shoulder. He felt Liam laugh before he heard it. “I think that’s a record for us, y’know.” With his other hand he tipped Liam’s face up towards his. “Didn’t even make it home.”

“Yes, well…” Liam shifted, holding up his own hand, upon which a new adornment glinted in the light. Seeing that ring - plain and simple, the way he knew Liam would like it - only ignited further desire in Ed. “We had good reason.” Ed grinned, leaning in to steal a long, lingering kiss.

“We did indeed. Now, handsome… get yourself presentable, and I’ll start on clean-up. If he can’t see his face in the worktops, Eric will know for definite that something’s happened back here.” He made to stand up, but Liam caught his arm and pulled him back.

“Five more minutes? I’m not sure my legs are working again just yet.” Ed laughed, and settled himself back into position against the cupboard door.

“Alright. Five more minutes.”

—

Many events had taken place at Anchorage over the years - from wedding receptions to charity dinners, both its main dining room and the smaller private den rented out and reserved time and time again. One thing Edward could safely say had never taken place in his restaurant was a child’s birthday party.

Until today.

His artfully designed nautical interior decor was overshadowed by appropriately colourful and cheap decorations - which he and Liam, with the aid of Killian and David and a few of the restaurant staff, had spent hours putting up the night before - and the smart navy tableclothes had been replaced with flags bearing the skull and crossbones of every typical pirate.

The tables themselves had been entirely rearranged to better suit a horde of tiny humans - and their long-suffering parents - and the beautifully crafted menus had been completely rewritten at the request of the VIP currently standing on her chair with a sword in her hand and a tricorn on her head. Beside her, bandana tied around his head and fake parrot fixed to his shoulder, her brother was in the process of stacking a pile of presents onto the table in the vague shape of a ship.

Standing at the pass, Ed surveyed the chaos of his sophisticated restaurant, and smiled. When Liam joined him a moment later, he took his husband’s hand in an automatic gesture, gently lacing their fingers together.

“How long do you think we should wait before we roll out the cake?” Liam asked, leaning comfortably against Ed’s shoulder. “They’re already wired with sugar. If we make them wait too long they might stage a mutiny and turn on us.” Ed grinned.

“Wouldn’t that be a sight?” He shifted, glancing through the window to the kitchen, where the cake awaited. “I can bring it out now, if you like?” Liam turned too, smiling as he set eyes upon the cake. He had already seen in that morning after Ed had finished the final touches, but he was still amazed at his husband’s creativity and skill. He’d never seen anyone make a cake to look like a tall ship before, especially one so realistic. It even had edible sails that Ed had hand-dyed with colouring and a brush.

“Have I told you how incredible you are, darling?” He murmured, leaning in to steal a quick kiss from him. “She’s going to love it. Her very own pirate ship.” He felt his heart swell with love for this man who continued, every day, to surprise him. “You’ve really done a good job with this, y’know. I know there’s a part of you that’s internally screaming over what we’ve done to your restaurant.”

“Everything can be returned to how it should be.” Ed waved him off. “And besides… it’s all worth it. You know I’d do anything for our family, Li.” He kissed him again, lingering a little this time. “Now go distract our little captain whilst I light the candles and sail this thing out.”

#anhonourablecaptain #verse; old married couple (exclusive)#drabble; five times #;captainblack #;the captain and the sailor #;the rightful queue #captaindashingrapscallion

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Must Reads Special #3

Grab your favorite comfort food and an extra box of tissues. It’s time for another special edition of Must Reads. This months episode: Tears Part 1 Some of my favorite moments that will always make me cry.

--Cowboy Bebop “The futuristic misadventures and tragedies of an easygoing bounty hunter and his partners.”

Episode 24: “Hard Luck Woman” Faye comes across an elderly woman who knew her when she was younger which triggers some of her memories to return. Back at the Bebop, Ed runs into her absentee father and the rest of Faye’s memories return. As Faye leaves to find her home, she tells Ed that belonging somewhere is the best. Which prompts Ed to leave as Ein follows. Spray painting bye-bye on the ship before she leaves. As Spike and Jet eat the eggs that they had split for everyone we see Faye excitedly run up to her old home only to find nothing but ruins. She draws where her bed was and lays down.

It’s sad enough to see the Bebop crew split up like this but with “Call Me” playing in the background, it makes this scene all the more heart breaking.

Episode 18: “Speak Like A Child” Our first look into Faye’s past through a mysterious package that turns out to be a tape that she sent to herself as a child. All other music and sounds stop, except for a quiet piano in the background. As the crew looks on, Faye spying from the door, it starts of easily enough. A glimpse into what was. But what rips out my heart every time is the cheer Faye gives to herself. Faye doesn’t remember making the tape or who she was and was like. So although young Faye is telling herself not to lose, to keep trying, adult Faye has already lost (at least in terms of memory).

Young Faye: “Good morning, me. Did you sleep well? Did you wake up feeling good? Did the light, and the wind, and the smell, and the sound, all seem like they’re brand new and fresh this morning? Is each and every cell in your whole body awake and alive now? Today, you are who you are today. See? You’re still me, but you’re a newer version.…Myself ten years from now. It’s so far away; it’s almost impossible to imagine. Am I alone or is there a wonderful person next to me? Knowing me I’m sure you’re causing all kinds of trouble for lots of different people. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to, but it’s all right. That’s part of life too, isn’t it? You’re not perfect but you’ve got a lot to give, so remember: I’ll always be cheering you on. And now a big cheer from my heart. Let’s...go...me, alright! Do your best! Do your best! Don’t lose me! Let’s go, don’t lose, don’t lose me! Do your best! Do your best! Me, me, me! Don’t lose, don’t lose! Me, me, me! Go me! In your time I'm no longer here, but I am here today, and I'll always be cheering for you, right here. Cheering for you- my only self.”

--Futurama “The adventures of a late-20th-century New York City pizza delivery boy, Phili J. Fry, who, after being unwittingly cryogenically frozen for one thousand years, finds employment at Planet Express, an interplanetary delivery company in the retro-futuristic 31st century.”

Episode 2: “The Series Has Landed” Fry, Leela, Bender, and Amy head to the moon to deliver their first package as a delivery crew. The scene that makes me tear up; in more of a bitter sweet kind of feeling instead of downright sad, is when Fry and Leela are on the dark side of the moon in the Apollo 11 lander. Then this moment happens:

Fry: “Look, Leela. I’m sorry. I never should have dragged you out here.” Leela: “That’s right, you shouldn’t have. I still don’t get what the big attraction is.” Fry: “I never told anybody this, but a thousand years ago I used to look up at the moon and dream about being an astronaut. I just didn’t have the grades, or the physical endurance. Plus I threw up a lot, and nobody liked spending a week with me.” Leela: “A week would be a little much.” Fry: “The moon was like this awesome, romantic, mysterious thing, hanging up there in the sky where you could never reach it, no matter how much you wanted to. But you’re right. Once you’re actually here, it’s just a big, dull rock. I guess I just wanted you to see it through my eyes, the way I used to.” Leela: “Fry, look. It really is beautiful. I don’t know why I never noticed it before.”

It was the first scene that showed me that this show was going to be much more than a silly comedy. It would have moments like these where it becomes something beautiful.

Episode 137: “Game of Tones” A strange ship is heading toward Earth emitting four loud notes that start to cause structural damage on the planet. Fry seems to recognize the melody so they put him to sleep to explore his memories of the day he was frozen to find what was causing the melody.

I haven’t seen this episode as much as the others on my list today but I do remember the ending. As a thank you for helping save the world again Nibbler helps transport Fry to his mothers dream so he could speak to her. She mentions that she dreamed about him a lot since his disappearance and asks what he wanted to speak about. Speechless, he just hugs her and back in the year 2000 his mother wakes from her dream to Fry’s picture on her nightstand, smiles, and peacefully falls back to sleep.

Episode 56: “Leela’s Homeworld” Leela learns the truth about where she is from. She is not the only cyclops alien in existence, she is a mutant and her parents gave her up so she could have a better life on the surface. At first she believes that the two mutants killed her real parents and almost kills them when they said they did. Then Fry shows up with the note that was left with Leela when she was given away saying it was written on paper commonly used in the sewers. After the reveal Leela says that they are her parents, they embrace and everyone cries. Even Bender gives out a little aww. But what really kicks you in the feels is the montage that follows, showcasing all the ways that Leela’s family secretly looked after throughout her life. Catching her before she could fall down some stairs, leaving her cookies while she worked on homework, giving her birthday presents, and even covering her up with a blanket to this day while she slept.

Episode 36: The Luck of the Fryrish After a string of bad luck Fry wishes he had his old seven-leaf clover; that helps him beat his older brother at everything, and with the help of Leela and Bender they travel to the ruins of Old New York to see if they can find it. Amazingly his house is still there but the clover is gone and after finding a statue that looks like his brother, Yancy, with the inscription, “Philip J. Fry The Original Martian, he concludes that his brother must have stolen it and his dream to be the first person on Mars. Fry finds out where his brother is buried and decides to do a little grave-robbing to get his clover back. The episode jumps between Fry’s past and his current time. Mainly focusing on his relationship with his older brother. Showing how Yancy wanted to be named Philip and kept copying Fry.

Once they arrive at the grave Fry knocks off the moss that had covered the graves inscription. It then jumps to his older brother discussing what to name his newborn son with his wife:

Yancy: “Daddy has a present for you today. Do you know what it is? It’s a lucky clover that can help you be successful whatever you do. Even break dancing. And it once belonged to someone very special.” His wife: “I know what name you want to give him, Yancy. It’s okay.” Yancy: Really? Son, I’m naming you Philip J. Fry in honor of my little brother, who I miss every day. I love you Philip (sniff) and I always will.”

Fry (reading the inscription): “Here lies Philip J. Fry, named for his uncle, to carry on his spirit.”

The episode packs quite a punch. We spend the majority of the episode under the idea that Yancy didn’t care for Fry much. He wanted to be the one named Philip, he wanted to steal the clover, he kept copying his brother’s style, and appears to have taken over Fry’s life. And through Fry’s frustrations, we don’t care much for Yancy in the beginning. But upon later reflection we realize that Yancy actually admired and loved Fry a lot and wanted to be more like him. And I think Fry spends most of his life thinking that his brother may not have liked him and here he has irrevocable proof that his brother loved him.

Episode 61: Jurassic Bark At a fair about the 21st century Fry finds his old dog, Seymour, fossilized. With the Professor’s help they plan to clone Seymour but Bender becomes jealous and throws Seymour into lava. But realizing that Fry could love an ‘inferior creature’ and wasn’t trying to annoy him jumps into the lava to rescue Seymour before he melts. As they begin to extract Seymour’s DNA it is revealed that Seymour died at 15, 12 years after Fry was frozen, and Fry has them stop the cloning. When this happens:

Bender: “Fry, what’s wrong?” Fry: “Think about it: Seymour lived a full life after I was gone...He probably even added new songs to his repertoire.” Bender: “But that’s a good thing. “Walkin’ On Sunshine” sucks noodles.” Fry: “I had Seymour ‘till he was three. That’s when I knew him, and that’s when I loved him...I’ll never forget him...But he forgot me a long, long time ago...”

After giving Seymour one last affectionate pat goodbye it cuts to show that Seymour spent twelve years outside Panucci’s Pizza waiting for Fry to return (while ”I Will Wait for You” plays in the background). Until one day he laid down and closed his eyes.

Kills me every time. Fry thought Seymour happily moved on but he dutifully stayed there and waited for his return.

--Gattaca Gattaca is my favorite movie. And I have a lot of contenders for that position. But when it comes down to it and when I really stop and think about it, Gattaca is the first that comes to mind. I’ve looked up and thought about many of the quotes from it.

In a futuristic setting (though the present gets closer and closer to it everyday) people are born through eugenics. Born to be the best of both parts of their parents DNA. Those born in a more natural was are known as “God-child” and are discriminated against.

Vincent: “I belonged to a new underclass, no longer determined by social status or the color of your skin. No, we know have discrimination down to a science.”

Vincent is one such God-child who dreams of going to space but no one is willing to hire him due to having a high possibility of getting sick and having an estimated life span of only 30.2 years. But with the help of a genetic donor he switches places with one Jerome Eugene Marrow, a former professional swimmer who was injured in a car accident. Posing as Eugene, the fake Eugene gets a job at Gattaca and will be heading to Titan as a navigator. But a murder occurs at Gattaca and almost gets him found out when an eyelash of his real DNA is found near the scene. After evading police and the real murderer being found fake Eugene is all set to go to Titan. Only to find a new security DNA check before loading. Not having any extra samples of real Eugene, fake Eugene is found out by the doctor that has always done the DNA tests. And has known about Eugene posing as someone else for a long time. He then joins the rest of the crew and is last scene heading off to Titan.

I love this movie for various reasons and I might someday do a whole breakdown of why. But for now, why it makes me cry. It is the ending. As he says his last line:

Vincent (as Eugene): “For someone who was never meant for this world, I must confess, I’m suddenly having a hard time leaving it. Of course, they say every atom in our bodies was once a part of a star. Maybe I'm not leaving; maybe I'm going home.”

I tear up every time. The first time I don’t think I even knew why because I didn’t grasp the full film. That took a second viewing and a little research. There is the argument of how far are we willing to take science, there’s the issue on prejudice, and how limiting creating people in such a way can slow progress and ultimately affect our lives. How we would stop pushing ourselves. But for now let’s just leave it as an example of the underdog proving everyone wrong and rising to a position that no one believed they could make it to.

Anton: “Vincent! How are you doing this Vincent? How have you done any of this? We have to go back.” Vincent: “It’s too late for that. We’re closer to the other side.” Anton: “What other side? You wanna drown us both?” Vincent: “You wanna know how I did it? This is how I did it Anton: I never saved anything for the swim back.”

And then there’s this moment with his love interest, Irene:

Vincent: “My name is Vincent, all right? Vincent Anton Freeman, and I'm a "faith birth" or a "de-gene-erate", whatever you want to call it; but I am NOT a murderer!” Irene: “You're a "God-child"?” Vincent: “But we do have one thing in common, only I don't have twenty or thirty years left in mine. Mine is already ten thousand beats overdue.” Irene: “It's not possible.” Vincent: “You are the authority on what is not possible, aren't you Irene? They've got you looking for any flaw, that after a while that's all you see. For what it's worth, I'm here to tell you that it is possible. It is possible.”

--The Possibility of Fireflies by Dominique Paul “It’s 1987 and fourteen-year-old Ellie Roma doesn’t have much of a family. She lives with her mother, who has taken a break from parenting; and her older sister, Gwen, who is on her way to becoming a juvenile delinquent. Her father left them to start a new life. So Ellie spends a lot of time alone, especially at night, when all she has to keep her company are the fireflies that flicker in the summer air. Then one day a mysterious stranger enters her dark world. He is Leo, twenty-one, who is on his way to Hollywood to become a rock star. Ellie and Leo connect instantly, and Ellie hopes Leo will be the one to rescue her from her unhappy life. But instead, Leo teaches Ellie that no one can save you. You have to go after what you want. So one night - one terrible, frightening night - that’s exactly what Ellie decides to do.”

I loved this book. I read it at least three or four times when I was in middle school. Partly it was because I could relate to Ellie really well. My parents got divorced when I was nine and although I didn’t have abusive parents, the woman my dad got remarried to did do a lot of emotional and mental abuse to my older sister and myself. And those first several years of the divorce it was pretty rough. I’ve blocked a lot of it out and I try my best not to think about it but every now and then those memories like to attack. Due to the strong connection I felt toward Ellie and my own history, I have cried every time I have read this book.

Why it makes me cry. There are plenty of sad moments throughout this book but what makes me cry every time is the ending. Near the end Ellie’s older sister decides to run away with her friend. Ellie doesn’t really want to stay there with her mother alone so she runs across the street and asks to leave with her new neighbor friend. Who turns down her offer but does give her a ride and some money to get on a bus. She decides to go to her dads house and thinks of everything they’ll do together. But when she arrives no one is home and there aren’t even any fireflies for her to watch. As she starts to wonder if he even still lives there and would even want to see her, a car pulls up. It is her father and he leads her inside and shows her a bed (or was it a couch? It’s been a while since I last read it) so she can get some sleep. He tells her goodnight and leaves a house key for her on the table.

--Yu Yu Hakusho “From cutting classes to brawling in the streets, Yusuke Urameshi is not your typical role model. In fact, this kid's nothing more than a fourteen-year-old delinquent with a talent for trouble. But in a single selfless act Yusuke dies while saving another. For such noble sacrifice he is given a second chance at life, but it's to be a life far different than the one left behind. Now a Spirit Detective, the young man must track down demons and humans alike who desire to rule over the three realms of reality.”

Episode 1: “Surprised to be Dead” Yusuke’s funeral. The first time I saw Yu Yu Hakusho was during my early anime years. So I was very unprepared for someone to actually die in their show. No other anime I was watching at the time had any deaths yet, least of all it the main character.

If you’ve never seen this classic series Yusuke is a delinquent. He skips school, starts fights, all that. And yet he stops to save a child who was almost hit by a car and dies in the process. The shinigami who breaks the news to him, Botan, takes him to his funeral. Yusuke expects to see everyone laughing and being glad that he’s dead. Including his mother, his rival, classmates. Only to find his mother and his childhood friend, Keiko, crying. Then comes in his rival, his principal, and the boy he saved. And then I’m an emotional wreck.

Komada: "Come on, let's go back! This isn't right!" Kuwabara: “Shut up! Let go of me, wouldja?" Yusuke (floating over everyone’s heads): “What? Kuwabara [his rival]?!” Kuwabara (enters Yusuke’s apartment): "Damn you! You think you can just back out 'cause you're scared!" Okubo: "Kuwabara, this place is for mourning!" Kuwabara: "I'm not gonna leave! Not until he comes out here and lets me fight him!" Okubo: “He can’t do that!” Kuwabara: "I'm gonna beat you down, you punk! You hear me? Who do you think you are, huh? Dirty punk! Who am I gonna fight now? Who am I gonna fight?" Okubo: “He’s gone!” Kuwabara: “No! You’re supposed to be here...for me.” [and thus this bromance was born]

Takenaka: "At first I was so surprised, Yusuke...to hear you'd saved a kid at the cost of your own life. You've always acted more selfishly than that. Darn. Yusuke, I don't know why I don't feel like speaking well of you. [begins to cry] Why didn't you stay? You could have made something great out of yourself!"

Little Boy (the one Yusuke saved): "Mommy, do you think it'd be okay if I played with that boy tomorrow, if I'm good?" Mother: "No, son." Little Boy: "I know some people sounded angry at him, but he's really nice. He made really funny faces at me too, and he got me my ball! I don't know why those people were crying like that. It was probably because they wanted to play with him, too."

I think this was the first anime that ever made me cry. Yusuke thinks everyone hates him, would probably be better off if he wasn’t around, and then finds out that isn’t the case (a bit of It’s a Wonderful Life moment). It was a very sad scene and gets me every time.

#must read #must watch #books #Book Recommendations #anime #manga #cowboy bebop #futurama #Gattaca #yu yu hakusho #yusuke urameshi #the possibilities of fireflies #dominique paul #it's gonna make you cry

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