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#not enough contrast in all the shades of green so i had to add yellow and blue for highlights & shading
autisticaradiamegido · 3 months
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day 59
going ham with these dang paint markers!!!!
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napoleon-usher · 1 year
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Here’s a coloring tutorial for how to make vibrant single color backgrounds for gifs. This way relies on the color you want the gif to be already existing in the original scene or the background color already being mostly just one solid color. It should also require minimal to no layer masking which normally results in a cleaner coloring. There will be a second tutorial which will explain how to do more complicated manipulations.
For my example, I chose a scene that had yellow and green most prominent in it. Scenes like this can be changed to many other colors so they tend to be very versatile.
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I always start my colorings with Levels, Curves, Black Selective Color, and Exposure. This is not absolutely necessary but I prefer this set of adjustments to begin with because it increases contrast and brightness, and helps make colors more defined (which makes them easier to manipulate). If there are other ways you know how and want to achieve a similar effect, do whatever looks best to you. This is the scene with my base coloring on it:
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As a rule of thumb, if there are people in the scene that I'm giffing, keeping their skintone looking as normal as possible is my first priority. This is especially important if there is a person of color in the scene so as not to white/light/orangewash them. This tutorial is a great resource for learning how to avoid that so I won't go into depth about it, but I will explain some of the steps I take because the method is a bit trickier for when you're also doing a vibrant coloring.
To begin with, Cal's skin has already been lightened a bit by my base coloring. To start with I use a layer of Red Selective Color to darken the skin tones and remove some of the yellow. The more yellow you remove  at the beginning the easier it will be to manipulate the yellow and green background later without affecting their skin. Then a Hue/Saturation layer that desaturates and darkens the reds so that their skin doesn't look unnaturally red.
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These are the adjustments I made for this scene. They may need to be further adjusted later, but this is a good start.
The next layers will focus on manipulating the background. The first step is to convert the mix of yellow, green, and minor cyans to a single, less muddy color. The easiest way to do this is changing them all to a more distinct green. In a Yellow Selective Color layer, increase cyans so that it becomes more green. In a Cyan Selective Layer, increase the cyans and yellow. Finally, in a Green Selective layer increase the cyans. You'll see that these adjustments have made the background a much more vibrant and solid green.
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If the background color of your original scene is not green like this one, still try to get all of the different colors to become one base color to work off of.
At this point, you get to be creative with what color you want the background to end up being. I have previously made gifs of this scene in a yellow orange scheme. It could just as easily be changed to cyan or purple, etc. Sometimes, in order to end up with a certain color, you must first convert it to one or more other colors.
YELLOW
For a yellow background, use a couple of layers of Green Selective Color and take out all cyans and maximize all yellows. Two to three layers of the same adjustment should be enough. Next add layers of Yellow Selective color, also removing cyans and adding in yellow. This should only need one or two layers, depending on the shade of yellow you want. I personally like a warmer yellow, so I do one layer with Cyan at -100 and Yellow at +100 then a second layer with Cyan at -30 and Yellow +100. These settings will of course change depending on the scene, but the theory is the same.
These are the settings for the group of adjustment layers (in order) that I used to change the background to yellow.
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You'll see that you can get vibrant and clean colorings with just a few selective color layers and sometimes even no layer masks. The last step is to check on skin tones again and make sure that the adjustments added did not change the color or tone too much. A good way to check the difference between the original and your coloring is to use the marquee tool and place a small marquee somewhere that will show you both when you use it as a layer mask. I usually group all my adjustments together then use a small circle marquee on part of a face and create a layer mask with it on the group. Then you can see how much everything has been altered.
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I always find it very satisfying to see how marked of a difference my coloring has made, especially when I make such drastic changes. It also allows me to verify that I've kept skin tones looking natural and not whitewashed.
I'll demonstrate how to change this scene to a couple of other colors as well. Even if the adjustments might be different for your respective scene, the main idea of what I do should still be applicable.
CYAN
To change it to cyan, I started again with Green Selective Color layers, but with essentially the opposite settings as what I did for the yellow coloring. On your green layers, add Cyan +100 and remove Yellow -100. Two to three layers should be enough. I found there was a bit of yellow that my previous adjustments did not catch, so I put a Yellow Selective Color layer before the green ones and added Cyan +100 and removed Yellow -100. 
Sometimes you have to change the order of your layers around to see what's going to look best. If the yellows don't get fixed before the greens, then the adjustments to the green layers will not affect the yellow. Placing the yellow layer before the green ones turns the yellow to green which then allows the following layers to also affect it.
At this point, the yellow and green layer adjustments have made the background fairly close to cyan. To clean it up and get the shade I want, I add a couple of Cyan Selective Color layers. 
With Cyan, the more Yellow you remove and Magenta you add, the more of a true blue it will become. The less Yellow and more magenta you remove, the more of a true cyan/blue-green it will become.
To get the shade of cyan I prefer to color with usually, I use a Cyan Selective Color layer with Cyan at +100 and Yellow at -50; then another Cyan Selective Color Layer with Cyan at +100, Magenta at about -20, and Yellow at -50. These adjustments result in this:
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At this point you probably get the point, but I'll also explain my process for purple.
PURPLE
Any adjustment that involves magenta tends to be just a bit trickier. The more you mess with magenta, the more it can mess up the quality and overall coloring. Green does not convert directly to purple easily, so I would suggest you start with the Cyan coloring and make your changes from there.
From the adjustments that make up the cyan coloring, go to the first Cyan Selective Color layer and put both Cyan and Yellow at -100, then Magenta at +100. Repeat with the second Cyan Selective Color layer. Then add a Blue Selective Color layer  with the same adjustments.
Blue and Magenta have a lot of overlap so if you're trying to magnify the Magenta in your scene and working directly in a Magentas layer doesn’t seem to be doing as much as it should, try making changes to the Blues (and vice versa).
These adjustments give this shade of purple:
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As always, make additional adjustments as needed to achieve the shade you desire. 
Sometimes I use a Hue/Saturation layer to increase the saturation of certain colors, but most of the time the result I want is achievable by the Selective Color layers. There is also a greater margin of change you can do with Selective Color versus Hue/Saturation. Selective Color gives you the ability to fine tune colors with a lot more precision. Hue/Saturation has a threshold of about +30-40 on the saturation bar before it starts to degrade quality and distort pixels.
Here is the final gif with each color I explained vs. the original scene:
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jooyeone · 2 years
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would you mind sharing advice on coloring gifs? yours are absolutely gorgeous
hey love! sorry for the wait, i've put a mini tutorial under 'read more' explaining how i made my coloring for this particular gif & some of the ways in which i use my go-to adjustment layers. i didn't have a chance to use every adjustment layer (like hue/saturation, which is a layer i use a lot!), but if you have any other questions that i didn't cover here, do let me know 🥰
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start with curves - i personally find that adding the curves later on in the process will either undo some of the color editing you have already worked on or the changes you are going to end up with will be too drastic (so you run the risk of quality loss). because the curves layer makes such a big difference, finding the right black and white points and getting rid of weird tints/filters in the original footage in the very beginning will help you have a clean base to work with, where (hopefully) all the colors are clearly separated.
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already a big difference! i found a white spot i liked somewhere on lighter window area, turned the layer opacity down to around 70% until it looked natural enough and this is the base i’m gonna work with. the colors are much better separated now & ps can isolate the reds, yellows and greens far more easily for me now when i add in the next steps (selective color with an emphasis on making the reds and yellows warmer + some vibrance):
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if the style you are going for is bright and vibrant, this is where i would normally come in with some brightness+contrast and exposure. for this particular gif, i added a brightness layer where i did not edit the actual values, but instead did this to the layer itself:
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then i added an exposure layer, where i increased the exposure by about 0.17, decreased the offset by about 0.0015 and brought the gamma correction to ~0.95. all of these steps brightened up the gif and added some definition:
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this is just my own personal preference, but sometimes i like to add a gradient map just to emphasize some of the colors in the gif; in this case, i wanted the gif to feel warmer and lean more heavily into the warm yellow/green hues, so i’ve created a gradient map that looks like this:
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this is 1) going to accentuate those warmer tones and 2) naturally bring in a bit more light into the footage. i bring the opacity down to ~20%, play around a bit more with the selective colors to get the shades of red/yellow/green i want & correct the blacks/neutrals if i need to.
then i come in with a final levels layer, where i create the final contrast - if i love starting with curves, i also almost always end with levels because i find that it gives me the perfect finishing touches. to me, that’s the stage where i am happy with the colors themselves, i juuust want to make them stand out a little more & make the gif feel a little more alive. here, i brought the arrow on the far right closer to a value of ~230 and the arrow on the far left to 4-5. this depends entirely on your footage and what you’ve done with the coloring up to this point. it’s very easy to over-brighten a gif at this stage and pay in quality loss (i’ve had my fair share lmao) or over-contrast it by making the darks too dark, if that makes sense. in the end, this is what i ended up with:
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aaaand here is the before/after of the gif itself:
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antirepurp · 2 years
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Thanks for the tips! I definitely keep those in mind :). Do you handpick your colors? I really need help with that :/
a lot of the time yes. it's one of those things that you have to do a Lot to get the hang of it, and studying other art also helps with it, but i can try giving some pointers perhaps
i went ahead and dug up this tutorial from my main on placing characters into environments that focuses on the coloring aspect, which gives some pretty useful notes in adjusting colors to make them fit into backgrounds. i recommend giving it a look!
as for my process, i tend to usually have an idea of what mood i specifically want for a drawing when i start it and then pick the base colors based on that. here's some 'hog art with different vibes from this year and the base blues i ended up using for each of them:
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most of the time i slide the hue to about where i think i want it and then start playing with the saturation and value sliders, and when i think i got something that looks right i lay it down. usually it's not quite right the first time and i need to pick it back later after laying down the other colors and adjust it further, bucket fill the new color in, then adjust it again and so on
it usually takes me a while to get the shade to a point where i think it looks right, and that takes a lot of fiddling with the hue-saturation-value sliders. as a general rule if i want the palettes to be colder i tint them more towards the right side of the color wheel (towards cyan/green/blue/magenta) and more to the left side if i want them to be warmer (red/orange/yellow, and magenta for blues). saturation and value sort of go hand-in-hand when determining the intensity of a color, but generally the higher the value the less you need to saturate it to add color to it. finding a good balance here takes some trial and error
also what i do a lot is adjust the entire base color layer (or all of them if i have multiple, and sometimes i include the shadow/highlight layers as well) with color adjustment features. i think most art programs have a specific tab for these sliders, but in paint tool sai they're found under filters:
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i use "hue and saturation" to, well, adjust the hues of the colors towards the direction i want (usually just whether i want them colder/warmer or more intense)
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i touch "brightness and contrast" a bit less, but sometimes adjusting here helps me make the colors pop out more, or make the background layers less eye-catching by lowering their contrast or cranking down the color deepen slider
another thing to keep in mind is that shading and highlights will also end up adjusting colors further. here's the tailmon pic i drew a couple days ago, with flats and then base shading (+ some adjusted lineart colors):
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the colors already tint towards warm on the left, but the shading and highlights emphasize that even further
also layer effects are your friends! after i got to around this phase in the pic i figured that tailmon wasn't popping out of the background enough and there needed to be more contrast between the two of them, so i threw some light blue/cyan multiply and shade layers on the background, and smudged and erased the color in parts that i wanted to be lighter and added darker shades to parts i wanted darker. also bc i work in a back-asswards kinda way i had already put some additional highlight layers on the character to emphasize the lighting way before i even did the background, but i enabled them again below to show the difference they make (and simulate a sensible artist's workflow lol):
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^ the overlay below the layer group was to add some glow to the background as well. quick and dirty lighting stuff!
i think a lot of coloring does end up coming down to practice. mess around with layer effects and multiply and overlay colors on top of your chosen base colors to see how they're tied together, study other people's works and eyedrop colors out of them to see what combinations of hue/saturation/value they're used to achieve the effect, try out new things! the more you do stuff the better you'll figure out the stuff that works and the stuff that doesn't.
i feel like i might've gotten a bit sidetracked there akjshdaks but i hope this was helpful ":D
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zenosanalytic · 1 year
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Paintbrush, PlasGlue, and Holy Clippers: Elf Rangers: Day 3: Belatedly
Yesterday was pretty chill and I actually got allot of painting done but also... I forgot to take the time to write a post -_- So I might be writing two today, tho today's going to be a bit Busy for me, so we'll see :p :p
Ok: so today(yesterday) was Metallics Day, but also I wasn't completely satisfied with how the bow was looking so I decided to paint the interior of it in a darker beige/ivory, Ushabti bone, hoping the contrast this creates would trick the eye into seeing the bow more sharply, and also did a second coat of Morghast on the strings while I was at it, and then I decided the bow-interior needed to be EVEN DARKER, so I painted it with Morghast too. I did that first because the metal flake in metallics doesn't play nice with non-metallic paints.
The metallics I decided on were Brass for the armor bits, Steel for the sword and arrowheads, and gold for Accents; crossguards, buckles, etc. And, for edification, here's where the Rangers stood at the start of the day
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The sculpt issue continued to be An Issue, making it difficult to get full coverage, but I mostly got there in the end. I also decided metallic hairbands at the forehead would look good and draw the eye, so I painted those in; gold for Archer and Silver for Handbow. After painting the metallics and giving them time to dry I decided to do some touchup before shading. Also I wanted to cover the greenstuff I'd used to fill gaps as much as I could but the contrasts just weren't thick enough for it, so I mixed some mournfang with Cadian Flesh to approximate the skintone Guilliman creates and painted those areas with that. Here's the touchup paints used and what the rangers looked like when I broke for lunch. OH! Also I'd forgotten to paint the fletching on Archer's knocked arrow previously, so i did that too
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the gamestore had some Army Painter wet palettes for sale so after lunch I figured I'd go over there and buy one to see how it impacted things. Here's what it looks like
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It was $30 and it's absolutely worth it; it's a HUGE improvement over the homebrew method, making a huge different in paint control and how sharp I could get my brush. And the setup was actually real easy; there's a foam pad you soak, then a paper sheet you set on that, wet, and press smooth(they rec using a squeegee but... who has such a small squeegee???)
With the added control the palette gave me, I was able to paint in all the little bits the sculpt had made difficult previously, which pushed the shading back about another hour. AND THEN I finally got to shading.
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I didn't get through all of these since you've got to wait 45 mins btwn applications, and also I had to stop ~3 to order+eat dinner. I wanted to darken the emerald a bit so I went for a dark green wash(Coelia) for that; Fleshshade for the skin, Handbow's leather, the brass and gold, and the exterior tyrian wrap; and Bloodshade for the interior of the tyiran wrap to give it a darker, shadowed look. I used the orange wash on Archer hoping it's lighten her hair up a bit, and the blue on Hadbow's hoping to get that slight blue tinge I'm looking for. Here's how that all looked in the evening when I finally called it a day
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They're really coming together! Doesn't look like my plan for the slightly blue hair worked though |:T |:T |:T I think I'll try using a blue contrast paint and see what that does.
Ok so: Tomorrow(today) I'm going to finish the shading, probably add an even lighter yellow shade to Archer's hair to see what that does, and then, if I have time, move on to highlighting ovo Seeya then ^v^ ^v^
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badass-at-fandoming · 2 years
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Fandom: Ikémen Revolution
Pairing: Seth Hyde x gn!Alice x Sirius Oswald
Tags: Polyamory Negotiations
Thank you to @voltage-vixen and @xxsycamore​ for organizing this event!
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On your last morning on the island, you wake up to a large hand covering your mouth.
Your eyes fly open. Sirius hovers above you with a finger on his lips. It's still dark out, and the snores of your compatriots still rattle the air. When Sirius removes his hand, you rise and tidy up as quietly as you can. After the sauna, the Army spent a day hiking around volcanos. The landscapes dazzled sharp with renewal; smoky with promise. You'd oo'ed and awe'ed and carefully stuck to trails. Though the air of wonder could not be dampened, it also held a tinge of melancholy. The cratered vistas were your last true vacation day—the remainder of the trip would be returning to Cradle.
Yesterday, the Army had traveled down the mountain. It was well-dark by the time everyone had bedded down on the floor of a massive, shoreline lodge. Beside you, Seth is already awake and returning his borrowed bedroll. You follow suit and trail Sirius outside.
The beach sand is gray and cold. Wind chaps your lips. You'd slept in your clothes to save time, but you shiver for missing the blanket's warm cocoon. Seth throws his jacket around your shoulders. You smile your thanks.
Without question, you follow Sirius. He's dressed too, in the boots, jeans, and vest he favors for his off days at the Army. The early morning darkness makes him appear saturated—his hair is almost black; his skin, a shade paler. At least you can see him without assistance. When he turns from the beach into a small woodland, your brain kickstarts enough to wonder at your destination.
Seth has similar ideas. "Sirius?" he says.
"Here," Sirius smiles. "Look."
It's like reverse Jack and the Beanstalk. Sirius is a giant besides a little bush of a flower, which sprouts strong and straight up. Prickles serve as handholds. In high contrast to the sharp and waxy the leaves, the crowning blossom appears delicate as crepe paper. The broad, white petals converge on a cheery yellow center and magenta stigma. It glows with simple beauty in the dim blue morning.
A little sound of wonder escapes your throat. Sirius' smile broadens. "This is a pua kala, or Hawaiian poppy. I spotted it yesterday and it looked about ready to bloom. The flowers only last a day, so we're lucky to catch it. I wanted to share it with you two."
Seth's hands fly to his mouth. "Oh! Sirius, this is so thoughtful and lovely!"
"I also brought tea and sweet bread," Sirius adds, pulling a thermos and rolls of puffy, doughy goodness out of the depths of his coat.
"You know a way to a woman's heart 🎶."
The tea warms you to the bones, and the act of chewing brings you fully awake. The sun must be creeping up, as the light eases bluer and bluer. Munching and admiring the pua kala feels pleasant and homey. The leaves lighten to Seth's favorite shade of green. Birds begin to hop and twitter awake, and you can pretend its a little morning symphony just for you three.
Sirius clears his throat. "I also, uh, wanted to say thanks. That is, for the…." His cheeks go pink.
"Orgasms?" Seth supplies helpfully.
Sirius scowls. "You always have a comeback, don't you?"
"Part of my charm ⭐️."
"I don't want it to end," Sirius says, heated now. "I want to keep going once we're back in Cradle, if that's all right you."
Seth and you share a look. He licks his lips. It's not like you had any other plans, besides working towards peace. Maybe the generation of love and friendship can begin more at home than you thought.
Your boyfriend reads your face and throws himself into Sirius' arms.
"No, I'm holding the tea!" exclaims Sirius. You catch the thermos mid-air as Sirius catches Seth mid-flight. Wrapping his legs around Sirius' waist, Seth plants a wet, sloppy "mwah!" of a kiss on Sirius' mouth.
"We'd love to have you," you say, in lieu of an interpretation. You nuzzle into what part of Sirius you can reach, which happens to be his bicep. Mmm, boy-muscle.
Seth licks a stripe down the earrings in Sirius' ear. The Queen of Spades shivers at the promise.
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lindsaynooneops · 2 months
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Fundamentals 1: Software Pūmanawa
Simple Image Adjustments Brief
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In the difference between the original image and the readjusted image, i started off with adjusting the levels (brought the black closer to the middle to bring it out a little more and brought the middle point closer to the black), then added a hint of saturation to create more vibrancy and then finally added a cooling photo filter to give a more cooling feel as it felt more fitting to the appearance.
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For this one i noticed the image wasn't quite so sharp enough so i applied the smart sharpen filter before applying colour balance (brought in more cyan, yellow and green) and then finally moving the levels more left and closer together.
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For this photo edit, i started off with adjusting the levels (brought the levels very slightly more left and closer together.) then i increased the contrast to... well... make it more contrasting. i finally decided to add a hint of blue colour gradient to the image.
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And finally this photo edit. i started off with once again adjusting the levels (brought the levels very slightly closer together.) then decreased the contrast and slightly decreased the brightness to give it more depth in the darker shades.
to reflect i found surprising amount of difficulty looking for photos that needed readjustment. all the images you can see here are either photos ive taken in the past, or other peoples works i found online through discord photography channels. while adjusting the photos levels i also had a play with a few photos hues and i can see myself in the future creating portraits and experimenting with hues and composition. perhaps even some on the level of Andy Warhol
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matchamorphosis · 3 years
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔
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𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 || you and Andy go on a trip to Greece for your birthday and discover the love you have for one another.
𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 || fluffy fluff
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 || andy barber × black[birthday girl]!reader
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 || 5.2K
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 || jealousy, some rom com cliches, divorced!andy, i used like six different dividers to match with the storyline so very sorry if that’s unusual to you!
𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 || past lives by bornes. mariposa by the peach rascals. apricot princess by rex orange country. out like a light by the honey sticks & ricky montgomery
𝒘. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 || this is a birthday gift for @areyoustchewpid!!!! happy birthday ingrid!!! everyone go wish the birthday girl the best for her special day! 💗 I hope this fic fulfills your dreams of Greece with lawyer daddy and i hope you cherubs enjoy reading this <33
 + p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  
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THE GOLDEN FLICKER OF PALE PINK CANDLES CREATE A HOLY CHASTE HUE AGAINST BASHFUL SMILE BRIGHTENING YOUR FACE.
an event that you’ve been expecting all day yet while a firm chestnut table sits underneath your crossed legs cools as a sweetpea and seasalt ocean breeze blows into the dining room your expectations have somewhat been granted and changed. where only a three layer chocolate cake sits between you and Andy, both your lovestruck eyes never leaving each other despite the comet rippling starry sky glimmering from the white paneled windows.
everything is all sparkling, soft pink and golden at this moment.
from the rosy dawned blush that grazes against Andy’s cheeks to the blushy tone of your sundress and beating heart. candles sparkling to life as you and him in the very moment, wax melting in rosy dewdrops just like the fear of allowing these caged emotions to fly free. now they seemed to have been unrestrained by the gold bars of worry, aversion, and self committed rejection.
simple cursive writing made of periwinkle icing contrasts against the dark fudge confection this dearest friend of yours created. this friend who might have been something more in a life way beyond this year and century but as your heart beats in a melody casted by the Muses themselves it pirouettes with the cupid bow lights dancing in Andy’s pools of hopeless paradise. it’s all enough for you to lace your fingers with his-which you do- and wish for something else to spread against your lips besides the cake you both will cut in a minute after you blow your candles.
the words below your cupid struck glance read Happy Birthday Y/n in the divine candlelight, a squeeze of his hand only encourages the rapid pace of your heart to jump and for you to swallow your hesitance. a very same feeling floods Andy’s insides but for the past minutes just sitting directly on the table, lighting your candles and enjoying the meteor shower, he hasn’t kept his promise to himself.
a promise he made for himself since the beginning of today when he discovered how his palms sweat when you neared him and how his heart warmed when you spoke his name and how his soul just sang a different song when you took his hand.
he should say something now, he should tell you how much you mean to him in this different roseate light. maybe you’ll say the same words back and maybe with the rush of the rose glasses besides you both one thing may lead to another but what comes out of his mouth makes him bite his tongue. “I hate to break it to you but wax is getting on the cake,”
those words snap you out of your amour aura, eyes fluttering for a second and smiling afterwards when you see Andy fidgeting with the crystal glass in his large hands. cheeks reddening like ripe strawberries glowing in the warmth of spring, it radiates the space between you both and with an almost whisper to your name he has your hands in his soft palms. “what do you wish for y/n?”
the question makes you swallow the raspberry rose laced lump in your throat. the love potion for an innocent drink still glistens in your glass that rests beside your body but it would spill if you would do the simple action your heart has been caressing your mind to just pull his collar down to smash his lips against yours.
to feel the tender roughness of his bearded cheeks in your palms and his lips molded along with yours in a kiss that would put all sculptured lovers to shame. it’s making you sink and float at the same time but the sparking second that Andy leans down you oblige.
“i’m sorry for not realizing it all those years,” it makes your brows scrunch in slight confusion at the confusion, his cool apricot breath wafting and twinning with your airy exhale when his nose grazes against yours. the heat of the candles underneath your close faces, you raise your hand to cup his face.
“realizing what?” its then did the breath escape your lungs and your heart to stop beating.
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seeing her open her eyes the very morning brought a different comfort than to watch her sleep- it was a normal thing to wake up but to experience her lashes fluttering to life to reveal the life in her sun speckled eyes was something for Andy. she rolled over, burying her face in the crispness of white sheets with a lazy grin.
through the honeycomb glass of the white portiéres of the hotel room, the soft sunshine of the province morning streams in and lights the bedchamber. the melodic sound of birdsong and light chatter slowly rouses her awake. Andy is seated in front of the swan feathered colored vanity, combing his hair and keeping the time on track on his watch.
the man had loads planned for you both today, a day planned for you both to be bone tired at the end but still reflecting on the memories and experiences once you laid your head to rest to sleep when it was over. the tapping rhythm of his polished tar black dress shoes fills the room, making you part open your eyelids to see who’s disrupting your peaceful second slumber.
“morning sleeping beauty, happy birthday,” he almost sing-songs, a slight whistle in his voice completely overtaking any fiber of drowsy and sleep riddance that enveloped your mind and body.
“morning Andy and thank you,” you grin with your porcelain smile, stretching your arms while simultaneously lifting your sunkissed legs. arching your back in a firm crane, yearning a deep yawn from you as you savour the sunshine on your ankles and naked shoulders.
“so I have a few things planned today but I thought it would be best to eat breakfast out at the cafe we talked about instead of ordering room service. what do you think?” his eyes focused on you in the mirror and you have no choice but to glance back with your remark weighing on your tongue.
so after a smile that was more than enough to let your childhood friend know that you were along with him for the ride you found yourself ready for your special day. a slightly puffed sleeve and flowy mint green sundress adorns your bodice softly, making you radiant in the morning sun that appears to be a glowing lemon slice across the cloudless skies.
arms securely wrap around Andy’s waist as he guides the scooter the same color of the sparkling sea and reflecting powdered blue vault above. hanging on to him as he brings you both to the tiny yet timeless cafe near the roaring pier of crashing waves and ancient cobblestone streets. the bouquet of large sunflowers that were tenderly hugged tightly between both your bodies are now free in your hold. their sunshine yellow petals sway in the morning breeze and take in the virtuous sunshine that rains in golden streaks on this magical day.
taking your seat near one of the outdoor tables, shaded by the umbrella the same color as the satin banner you both order your first meal as the waiter set your beginning entry of cheese, grapes, croissants and wine on a pine wood board in between you two. street cars come and go, along with passing people looking for special sites of eternal Athens Greece. the ocean bringing a calm sea mist breeze that only adds onto the refreshing and ecstatic tangibility seizing your atoms yet as you both talk about the plans you have for today.
although the words of the waiter coming to refill your tall glasses breaks both an uncontrollable smile and laugh between you both. “couples get a discount,” he spoke and you both had a dime for when you both were mistaken for a couple you’d be swimming in a sea as large as the one that captures your irises and heart.
with his confusion Andy quickly nods along, “yes we’d take that discount thank you,” and the waiter smiles back as he steps away after filling your glasses and informing you about your meal which you both thank back.
“Andy I thought we weren’t gonna take advantage of discounts by pretending we’re a couple anymore,” you broke with a raised brow and Andy only rolled his eyes in any way that wouldn’t ever be taken seriously by anyone despite his job disposition.
“awe come on y/n let's relive old times! do you wanna pay full price when we’ve been doing this for years?” Andy looked at you through a playful demeanor that you only recognize when he’s concocting and getting away with something as seemingly harmless as this.
“i’m not really fond of the backlash when it backfires on us in the end,” you speak as you bite into a butter croissant, the rich pastry practically melting on your tongue. “also you’re making us sound like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde duo. doesn’t look good with that attorney license of yours Barber,” you laugh as you return the same eye roll back as you sit up with your glass in hand.
“remember when I booked us a reservation at that restaurant when we were in college and I freaked out over the bill? I ‘proposed’ to you and once everyone cooed and congratulated us we got our bill cut in half-”
“and I nearly kicked your ass afterwards, yeah Andy my foot is remembering the loss,” you intervene which makes Andy shake with loud laughter enough to make all the other pairs -real couples instead of you sly imposters- stop from their conversations to glance at you two breaking into hysterics whilst eating green grapes and sipping on white wine.
“to be fair we were broke college students! money was tight as hell back then but I didn’t see you complain when I got on my knees and put a ring on your finger. I thought the rhinestone looked very good with your dress that night,” popping a grape in his mouth with a humorous smirk etched on his lips.
“i’m sure you were looking forward to saying that when you gave me a kinder surprise from a candy machine.” rolling your eyes as you bite into another golden croissant, pairing it along with a nibble of creamy cheese that taste heavenly on your tongue.
“alright you can hold that against me I still deserve it,” Andy still remembers the other students in his seminar congratulating him and some who didn’t know about his engagement and divorce to Laurie still believe he’s engaged to you. it was funny and seems like something straight out of the cheesy rom coms he and you used to binge together as bored high schoolers.
that you and him used to scoff and egg on the oblivious main protagonists to just kiss and push away the denial to just be together but amongst all these couples in the morning light at this café it’s you two reliving your movie annoyances. it was hilarious and unfortunately ironic but Andy Barber didn’t see anything or comprehend the knot in your stomach when you took his hand and said something he couldn’t quite hear.
all he was paying attention to in the slow-motion picturesque of your gleaming smile, the sparkle in your deep lashy eyes and how your lips moved so theatrically as you spoke his name.
Andy, Andy, Andy
eyes glossing over in wonder, it was possibly the prettiest thing he’s seen and he’d wish to hear you say his name one more time. heart yearning to just catch your lips movement yet as his mind wedges himself back into reality he finally catches what you’ve been saying.
“Andy our food is here,” you said as the waiter came with your large glass plates of oven baked pizzas. the comforting rich smell of toasted cherry tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and freshly baked dough fill his nostrils. it's enough to cover the lush sweetness of your Dior perfume he loved taking a whiff of when you'd lean over the table to sneakily reach for his grapes and croissants.
“um, yeah thanks for the heads up,” he spoke in almost a broken sense of charisma compared to his boyish behavior minutes ago but it’s just now that’s Andy denying the feeling-
the seed of amorous that had been planted in his heart a long ago that’s beginning to sprout now.
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after roaming the creaky wooden piers with the sunshine twining divinely against your hair and every inch of revealed baby soft skin. a clementine in his hands and an apricot in yours, feeding the peels to the doves that rest besides the ancient stools as Andy give hands you cardinal slice after citrusy cardinal slice.
dangling both your legs over the docks and enjoying the way the rippling waves brushed against your curling toes. sweet orange and apricot filling your mouths like the sun spreading its orange and blush provenance across the aqua waters. lonely fingers fondle with your citrus fruits that you bought with wo shiny coins from a passing vender in a straw sunhat.
savoring the ocean blue and the sunny sky revealing the cotton white clouds that dot like dollops of whipping cream upon it. the sea breeze dancing with strand hairs, the topic of a greenhouse visit sparks and a sense of adventure rushes though bloodstream. within a matter of seconds you both race to hop back on the forget-me-not scooter.
inciting a school children challenge on who’s going to get there first and with the swiftness of putting your sandals back on and running against the mossy and dandelion cracked cobblestone had you seated on the bike. “I win,” you grin and of course Andy just gives you a fauxly hurt demeanor.
“you cheated,” you only hum back at his petty exchange, playing along for his sentiment until he sighs in his defeat. with the engine starting off you and him race to the glass palace that is the greenhouse.
a golden rimmed and sea mist colored empire, it stood out to you when touring the tiny city of colorful roof houses and marketplaces. mossy vines and leafy thorned shrubbery beautifully frame the interior pillars as rich golden sunlight fill in the glassy castle. cement molds create the railing for the lily pad and swan lotuses of the man made ponds. an occasional jasmine frog leaps from pad to pad as the milky pink and yellow koi’s swim about in the shadowy water.
exotic trees and wild plants bunch throughout the establishment, creating shade against the Apollo’s heavy rays as Andy lifts his head to marvel these large and tall works of Artemis. of course, with your polaroid camera you found in the rummage of your closet (that you haven't used since senior year of college) in a tight hold. wandering feet walk through the limestone pavement of the greenhouse, a sunflower in your hair that brightens the deep greens succulents and rich browns tree bark.
the vines of soft pink and purple flowers dangling from the glassy dome roof fall their baby pink petals as a breeze presents itself. some already settling in the brown tawny of Andy's hair, not far behind you smile at your face glossed in wonderstruck marvel. wide honey brown pools trail up the ten foot marble and ivory statue, reflecting in serenity cosmoses from the rainbows that spread from the crystal glass.
a sense of desire takes ahold of you as your slowed hands lift to trace your dark fingertips through the crinkle wrinkle of a marble maidens skirt. such detail and intricate design of the craftsman long ago must’ve took years to perfect, the cloth falling seamlessly upon the maidens body as her body crouches to run your clay hand again at the pond water. lifting your camera to your eyes, snapping your desired pictures that are set to capture all the whimsical aspects and elements that take your breath away.
Andy dares to draw near, it wasn’t like he hasn’t stood close to you at all- he might be making it hard on himself by overthinking ever move and step but you call out his name and his heart paces.
“yes y/n,” making his way to where you sit near a pond, you don’t say anything as you wrap the strap for the camera around your neck. fixing up your dress from any wrinkles from scrunching the hem up when dipping your feet in the sea earlier. checking your hair and make up in your hand mirror that you retrieved from your designer purse. an arched brow raises up at you, which you only respond by rolling your eyes and hand him the camera as you smile at yourself in the reflection of the ponds water.
“can you take a picture of me?” as you reapply another layer of gloss on your lips, the fishes swirling in the water to jump to the service to witness the beautiful nymph who have graced their pond themselves.
cupid bows perk at the fish and blow them kisses, your hands grab at a floating lotus before grasping the tender water blossom. putting it in the raven coils that delicately frame your face, damn it y/n.
it was as if you were torturing him with those mascara bambi eyes and glossy primrose lips, it makes his insides buzz and flutter like the malachite dragonfly that passes here and there.
“you telling me you want a picture or did you already decide for me yourself?” you only smack his chest with the camera once again.
“are you going to take the picture or not Barber? did you loose some of your magic with all that lawyer jumbo clouding your head or did you take those freshman photography lessons seriously?”
Andy rolls his eyes and takes the camera from you with a chuckle, “actually i’m still capable of using a camera y/l/n, god you’re making me feel old. go model for me,” you just laugh and run across to the other side of the pond.
soft skin from your legs revealed from the way your sundress lifts bends against your chest. head resting upon your knees while your arms wrap around them, the sunflower in your gasps and the lotus behind your ear. at this moment as the seconds turn into minutes Andy should be taking pictures, his eyes are looking through the lens as his index finger rests on the button.
with as much as single press he captures the greenhouse nymph but what good would a single picture do to capture every gift and grace you bestowed in the offering of your charm, beauty and heart?
it makes Andy's heart race, your eyes dashing from the godly statues that surround you to the camera. sweet music plays in deep cherry wood cellos and willow carved violins and even with the buzzing dragonfly it seems it found its favorite flower at the tip of your nose.
you certainly are the creation and waking of spring flowers and lovesick tales that took his heart then and its still yours now.
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that single snapshot was all he could think about you two drove down south to the coast. searching back the drunk nights before where you and him ran into a little covelete whilst drinking goblet after goblet in the forest of olive and grape vine trees. it was a long ride but nothing suited the wait better than the man on the radio singing with his strung trichordo.
the hands that grip Andy's shoulder slide down to wrap your arms around him tightly when the minutes pass and the forest of green olives and sangiovese grapes. parking the scooter near the shrubbery of some innocent bush you and him look for the wine stash the both of you left in the abandoned cavern of an ancient olive tree. Andy grinning as he grabbed the expansive bottle and before you know it you both head to the hidden beach.
Andy didn't plan to actually go swimming, just settle the gingham blanket upon the finely grain sand and open the picnic you both prepared. and he also didn't prepare himself for the rosy blush to dawn his face when your almond nails grip the hem of your sundress to lift it up and over your head. revealing your matching bathing suit underneath its quick that you throw him a wink and race to the nearby grassy cliff.
"see you soon Barber!" you yell and as Andy gets up from the blanket to understand what you mean by that its too late. the summer air is filled with your laughter and sky rippling cheer as you jump off the cliff and dive into the cloud blue water. the splash nonexistent from your perfect swoop.
if only he had the polaroid on him to capture the way your smile gleamed brighter than the sun reflecting off the sparkling water the the way your eyes cutely scrunched like sand dollars under the warmth of golden sand.
the silver green of the olive trees emphasize the richness of your skin. the rich skin he couldn't keep his sapphires off as you laugh your choir laugh that would make Apollo cease his chariot to listen to the siren of Olympus once more. dancing in the turquoise waves of the coast, they crash against your soft mounds, curves, and dips of sun glistening hips and waist.
how could he have been so blind?
rage and anguish slosh around in his mind that pour melancholic rain onto his heart, you were there for him through thick and thin. a friend he believed but how could he have buried that yearn and longing for you all those years?
it's almost criminal to the highest degree and he'd know his side of the justice system but how could that distract him from you? his head was far too buried in those lawbooks to realize, too oblivious to his emotions when you'd date and hang around other people that weren't him. looking far into the looking glass hoping that his work would pay off in the future, meeting another woman and putting a ring on her finger.
now here he is, a divorced man but a still very much happy man. lonely at times with his only child in the custody of his ex wife but still very happy with the comfort and support of you. it was you who helped him from the tears at night and it was you who he wasn't scared to open up to. even the past few months he didn't realize it but now as you call his name to get in the water he doesn't hesitate to pull his shirt over his head and take his shoes and socks off.
joining you in the water in a mater of a few heartbeats, it was as if you were a sea spirit calling for him and even if you weren't he's happily obliging when the small waves collide against his skin. both your laughs rippling the ocean in this small ocean paradise, swimming in the richness of the present never would have guessing that throughout all these years you be here.
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the salt water on your skin has dried as you and Andy walk side by side, your shoes rubbing against the gravel of the cobblestone paths as both you peer at the vendors and food stands arranging from rainbow scaled fish, fresh sesame seed breads, farm produced milks and cheeses, and vibrate fruits and vegetables. hands twined together in a firm hold, unfathomable excitement practically radiating off of you while you chat and giggle with Andy.
the topic of the conversation changing every few minutes when you find a stand that grabs your attention. curious eyes and wandering hands look over organic produce and homemade goods the people had to offer. the golden clutch of your purse being opened multiple times and Andy's mouth being stuffed with jam, cheese and fruit samples on the account of you. as you did you shopping he did as well, the ingredients for a sweet treat he had planned for you later on tonight are in a brown paper bag amongst your purchases.
of course he had to carry them all, not in obligation but because he didn’t want you to worry about shopping too much when you’re in the midst of enjoying your vacation. by all means he certainly wasn’t complaining, if anything he liked having you giddy and bursting with energy. practically dragging him from stand to stand and carrying your bags filled with stuff that you’d bring back home and try.
the village square where the marketplace takes place is tinted in an ambrosial hue, the sun now a glowing slice of grapefruit against the peachy pink carnation sky. lavender clouds that seem so close to grasp tower above you both yet they don't prevent the suns glow from capturing the beautiful soft planes of your face.
luscious and softer than the bouquet of sunflower carnations he surprised you with as you looked at the variety of sunhat options. one that you just purchased rests floppily against your temple but still doing its job at keeping you shaded from the suns glare. wrapped in a silky green bow, Andy smiles at how huge it is but it just makes you look divine and adorable in your sundress.
holding his hand tighter before tracing them up his forearm to softly grasp his bicep, it you who's leaning against him and pulling him close to you. the feeling of your body alongside his is warmer then any sunshine that seeps into his skin and lovelier than any of the flowers the market had to offer.
it’s hard to give you one excellent gift to give back all those years of commitment and loyalty and friendship but the way your lips spread in that enchanting smile it’s enough to make Andy know -despite the both of you not saying it- that you feel the same way to.
the bouquet in both your holds lifting up every once in a while for Andy to smell and for you to admire as you walk away from the noisy market. a little behind the village were the spring green of the countryside clashes within the stone brick city is a valley of flower arbors and hedge mazes. it was the last pitstop Andy the bags in both your hands settle down against the safety shadow of a maple trees shade and with a little laugh and an excited squeal he run to the flower arbors.
green rows of soft shrubbery dotted and laced in colorful blossoms stand in multiple rows upon rows look over of petunias and carnations. small apple and lemon trees in potted beds line up within the flowery hedges and no matter where you look it’s only the divination of spring and the gifts it bestows the Earth with. wooden picnic basket that was once used from your beach picnic is now empty but it’s quickly filling with the sweet smelling beauties of the flowers and fruits and you pluck.
Andy not fair behind you captures your wondering body in the still frame pictures of your polaroid camera. the pictures emerging quickly afterwards, he’s quick to fab them off and place them in your small picture album. turning your head over your shoulder your caught with Andy having the perfect opportunity to snap a picture that would be a bedtime story to tell with a child of his and yours.
it’s perfect and breathtaking, no matter the feeling of his heart thumping in its lingering hesitance you were the star that’s still continues to shine despite being out in broad daylight. it pulled at his heart strings because he knew what this feeling was, this feeling that he been avoiding to come to terms with all day but why was he so terrified?
the fear of rejection wouldn’t burst his heart but it would remind him that he was alone. a man like him wasn’t born to walk this Earth, wake to the sun and sleep with moon alone. the very presence of you besides him made him feel all the things besides lonely and bare to the universes cruelness at times. but maybe you felt the same way about him.
he only had one way to find out and he was set on keeping it, whatever sea he had to cross, valley he had to travel to and the plummeting ends to the Earth he will pronounce his love.
snapping another picture of you, you smile in it and with that he smiles to.
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"realize what Andy?" you press on but in the rosy candle light his lips pressed against yours seems to be the only answer he can bring himself to conclude.
it's takes the breath out of your lungs and makes your heart blush and burn deeper and hotter than the tiny flames that decorate the cake. the roughness of his bottom lip that have been occasionally bitten the past minutes of dancing around your feelings. the nerve of you both to push aside your feelings for each other because the fear of breaking each others hearts.
if only your past selves could see you now, shedding your hearts and allowing the key to them to finally open the gates of vulnerability and yearn. the passionate lovesick mess tastes delicious against your mouths and you both could get drunk off it instead of the rose. sweet and inching for more as your lips part to graze against each other, but in order to seal the prophecy of established lovers Andy pulls away.
"that i'm in love with you. that i've always been in love with you. it's been years and i'm sorry for just realizing it now but I need to know if you feel the same way. please tell me now, please," he whispers against your lips.
now its your turn for our heart to skip beats and take in each and everyone of his words. fluttering eyes drowning in his copper blues, you open your mouth to say something but nothing but a soundless nothing comes out. all these years your love for Andy has been buried deep within you and you've tried your best to hide that seed. to plow in new seeds because what use was that seed if it never flourished when he'd feel the same way.
you don't realize until you feel the tear dripping down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb. pressing a kiss where it once existed and it's now that you realize that it's always come to this. your lives weren't entirely paved in stone but the love that has a faith of its own is something that changes as the pages of a storybook turn.
this virtuous night being the newest chapter and as much as you're scared to follow along your heart has been waiting for this moment for so long. with those teary eyes that bring some to his own you smile and pull his face with yours, pressing your lips with his to mark your answer clear, to make him feel the way you feel.
"i've always felt the same. dear god Barber it took you twenty years and it all worked out didn't it?" you giggle against his mouth, feeling his grin as he kisses you back.
"what did you wish for?" he murmurs and you only smile and wrap your arms around his neck, "this,"
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the-hero-unknown · 3 years
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Summary : Haekhael gets ready for a fancy dance with her friends, proceeds to be mildly insulted. Not only that, once at the dance, she got shot by an arrow to her shoulder. Fortunately, the injury is fixed by magic. Mild revenge and after all that, Haekhael dances with Voryn's brother. 
Edit : Forgot to @chaoticnart for being such a big inspiration for this fic with all their House Dagoth head canons! They are an absolute blessing 💖
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It was an interesting day, at least in Kogoruhn where the chimer and dwemer would almost seamlessly be one. Nerevar kept the delicate fabric woven, but this was where the fabric had first come from. In truth, Haekhael found it beautiful. She hadn't seen anything quite like it before. She stood out of the meeting hall, right infront of the door. Inside, they were discussing trade routes and some missing shipments. Nothing out of the ordinary. The meetings always bored her anyways. 
Haekhael felt out of place. Like a square in a circle. All around her were the chimer folk of House Dagoth, nobles of the other chimer houses, and the dwemer. Yet she was the only human. Not even a familiar Nord, no. Haekhael was Yokudan. In a way, Haekhael had not felt so distant from how they dressed. The pauldrons that were made of bone and shell, and then the silk robes during the summer that almost reminded her of Yokuda. Far was the memory of her homeland, but it was there. Not to mention it was winter. Her arms were crossed as she looked around the halls. 
Satisfied that no assassin seemed to slip through the shadows and doors remained closed, Haekhael leaned against the wall. Soon, chatter came closer to the door. Haekhael flinched when it was opened. The door made one of the most awful sounds.  Though the elves that came from the room ignored it. For they were going to take a brief recess from all the politicking.  Almalexia would pull Haekhael to the side for a moment as Nerevar would follow the dwemer king Dunmac and the tonal architect, Kagrenac. 
The chimer queen of Mournhold would say,"There's a dance this evening. I know you say you have left feet, but I figured you may want to come along." "I might just tag along. I've been standing here all day with nothing to do. Goodness, you all talk so much yet get nothing done." 
Almalexia rolled her eyes, allowing the comment to slide. Haekhael would not be sorry though. She hated standing with nothing to do but anxiously wait for someone to try to kill her or any one in the meeting halls. A dance wouldn't hurt her, but the armor she wore might. 
Almalexia quietly pulled Haekhael along to a guest room. 
"I have some old robes of Nerevar's that you could wear. Though, be careful with them, they are far older than you'll ever be." 
Haekhael glared, it was a constantly reminded fact of her short mortality. She'd die long before Almalexia or even Voryn, which Haekhael was sure he was the oldest of the First Council. Though, the woman dare not say a word about their ages lest she want to be exiled for a second time for a much sillier reason. 
"Don't look at me like that, you know it to be true." Almalexia shut the door behind them, heading over to a small wardrobe and opening it. Inside were many long robes. Some were a crimson red, others a forest-like green, there were even sky blue robes. There were also some very nice silk belts. Almalexia tapped Haekhael's shoulder,"Well, are you just going to stand there, jaw-dropped and not choose?" "Well... I mean, I'm simply processing what is infront of me, my queen." "Could you process faster? The robes are quite difficult to put on. Trust me, I've tried to do it alone. And that dance is tonight!" "Why would you wait until the day of a dance to ask me this, wouldn't it be easier to be asked a day beforehand?" 
The queen would shrug,"I figured you didn't want to come, but when I came out the meeting room, you seemed uneasy." "So dancing would all the sudden ease me?" "Hey! That's not what I meant, think of it like a small break. Now go choose one or I'll choose for you." 
Almalexia went behind Haekhael and gave her a light shove to the wardrobe to encourage her to hurry. The woman sighed and looked around at the robes. She found it rather odd of Almalexia to care for if she wanted to dance or not, but she wasn't about to question her persistence. Haekhael picked out a light blue robe. Almalexia picked up a robe of emerald green and a long seafoam colored scarf. Getting the gist of it now, Haekhael grabbed a golden colored belt. Almalexia looked at Haekhael and down at her boots and said,"We'll find something nicer than those in here, I'm sure." "Say, does Nerevar know that I'm going to be wearing these?" "I know we don't talk often as I'm busy ruling Mournhold and such, but yes we had a private discussion. I think Vivec and Sotha Sil are helping as well." "... So does everyone just assume I'm coming along?" "Well of course, you're still my body guard. We plan on hiding some weapons on you." 
In some peculiar way, this relieved Haekhael. 
"I'm sure Sotha Sil has some nice shoes you could borrow-" "No. That mer is constantly covered in oil and probably other weird alchemical ingredients. Wearing anything of his is asking for death." "Tell me, would you prefer Nerevar's shoes?" "You make a fair point." "Exactly." 
Haekhael began to undress, and with Almalexia's help, she was in exquisite clothing. Almalexia tied the belt, securing the robes in proper place. She had Haekhael wear the scarf draped over her arms and lower back. Soon, Haekhael was dragged along with Almalexia to help her with her robes. Haekhael was happy to help. Vivec was already in the room, sitting on the bed. Vivec was in a vibrantly red robe with a light blue to contrast it underneath, with pauldrons of shells on hir shoulders. Hir hair was braided, showing the shaved sides of hir head. It was surprising to hir all dressed up, Vivec seemed to feel the same way about Haekhael. Hir eyes were wide. 
"You look like you've been swept right out of rags and into riches!" "... I'll try to keep that as the compliment I assumed it to be." 
Almalexia clapped her hands,"We need to hurry up. We still need to get her some weapons. And I still need to get dressed up myself. I can't disappoint anyone." 
Vivec got on hir feet immediately,"Right. Haekhael, c'mon stop standing there." 
"I just got in here and the robes are dragging me down, forgive me for being slow." 
Haekhael and Vivec helped dress Almalexia in the finest of robes. The first robe was a soft green, the next robe was jade that matched her eyes. The final robe reminded Haekhael of the pines in Skyrim. Haekhael stared in awe for a moment before grabbing a pair of extravagant shoes. They were also another shade of green, jade. With yellow woven patterns of flowers and pointed toes. Almalexia hastily put on the shoes as Vivec began to do her hair. Haekhael went to a small chest and grabbed a pair of earrings for Almalexia, after all, she was a queen. So while Vivec braided Almalexia's hair with hir nimble fingers, Haekhael carefully put in the golden ruby jeweled earrings in the lobes of Almalexia's ears. Then there were small brass ringlets to add to the middle and top of Almalexia's pointed ears. Once Vivec finished braiding Almalexia's hair it was stunning. It reminded Haekhael of a circlet put on backwards. The rest of Almalexia's long,red, curly hair was left down. 
"Haekhael? Haekhael? Are... Are you alright?" "Huh? Oh yes. I'm fine." "If you say so, you've just been awkwardly looking up, does she look bad?"
Haekhael's cheeks were warm with frustration,"Vivec! No! Almalexia just... Is beautiful." "Alright, do us the favor and pull yourself together,  we still have to attend the dance." "That reminds me, I never asked, what time is this dance?" "Late in the evening. It's going to last all night long!"
Haekhael huffed. Vivec just grinned. And the three were of to see the court wizard, Sotha Sil. 
Sotha Sil swung open the door, it made a loud creak, he seemed to just ignore the worst sound in the world as he spoke,"Come along, I've got some pauldrons you can use and a few things you can hide in your sleeves. Can't have you be too boring." 
Haekhael was beyond offended as she set a hand over her heart,"Boring? This is by far the nicest thing I've worn in my life! And fashionable." "You are several eras behind with fashion then. But fear not, I have some things I'm willing to hand over to you. And maybe let you keep."
Haekhael was slightly frustrated as Sotha Sil led her in. Almalexia and Vivec laughed behind her back for a bit before Almalexia cleared her throat. In a silver lined box, Sotha Sil pulled out a brass wide-toothed hair comb. Vivec sat Haekhael down at on Sotha Sil's bed,"Is it alright if I put up your hair?" "I mean I guess, what's with the comb though?" 
"This old thing?" Sotha Sil said, waving it infront of her face,"It's from when I was a child. I wore it often, and quite frankly, it fits your outfit enough. Please give it back though, after tonight." 
Haekhael would nod her head, Sotha Sil delicately placed it in her hands. He seemed to regret it. He turned away, as if afraid to look at her. Vivec put most of Haekhael's braided hairs into a bun, leaving four braids down. After using a thin netch leather strip in her hair to keep the bun in place, Vivec got infront of her. Vivec lightly lifted two of the braids over Haekhael's shoulder. Ze handled the other two braids with a delicate manner of moving it over her other shoulder. Vivec had almost a childish grin whenever Haekhael carefully handed the old comb to hir. Vivec gently place the comb in the braids and cover hir mouth," Ayem, Seht, look!" 
Almalexia stood next to Haekhael and lifted Haekhael's hand up,"She's beautiful!" 
Sotha Sil turned his head over slowly, still nervous of the comb. He had a gentle smile, relief even? Sotha Sil said,"You do look lovely Haekhael, even if in... ancient clothing." 
"Replies the mer, all centuries upon centuries years older than I!"
Sotha Sil rolled his eyes while Vivec stuck hir tongue out. Almalexia let go of Haekhael's hand and moved it to her shoulder. Sotha Sil picked up a small but freshly sharpened dagger. He handed it to Haekhael,"This is to put on your leg." "My leg? Forgive me, but how am I to put this on my leg?" "I have a small harness for it." "Wait, I almost forgot. I need to borrow a pair of shoes." "Is that really a good idea?" "... Yes." 
Sotha Sil raised a brow, lightly tossing the small harness. He bent over and grabbed some shoes from his dresser. They were a light blue. The shoes looked light worn. Much like Almalexia's shoes, they were pointed and had yellow embroidery. The shoes yellow embroidery was not flowers but cogs, like the dwemer machines. "Custom made I take it?" "Shut up and put them on, or I'll take them back." 
Haekhael grinned and put up her hands up with the shoes,"Hey, I was just stating what I thought." 
She quickly slid on the harness, sliding the dagger into it. Haekhael was just a little worried it would jab her thigh, but fortunately, it seems secure. Haekhael put on the shoes, which rather by fortune or misfortune, fit just fine. Almalexia offered her hand as Haekhael would pull it to stand up. 
Soon the three would arrive with Nerevar and Voryn. Haekhael stuck close to Almalexia, as it was her duty. Almalexia danced with Nerevar, Vivec, and she even got Sotha Sil to dance. Haekhael watched closely standing beside whoever paired with Almalexia. Although a very taller chimer would nervously tap her shoulder. She raised a brow, having to look up to see who tapped her shoulder. He looked much like Voryn. His hair was braided beautifully, and his voice was sweet,"Hi, I was wondering if I may take a dance with you." 
Haekhael would shake her head,"No sir, I'm on duty. I thank you for the offer." 
She smiled a bit, the mer politely bowed his head and left. She felt a little bad, and she really had wanted to dance, but Haekhael had to focus on protecting Almalexia. And that's when Haekhael heard bow string snap and then the whistle of an arrow. She side stepped, holding out her arm in front of Almalexia. Instead of the arrow landing presumably to kill Almalexia or Nerevar, it landed in Haekhael's shoulder. A soft gasp echoed in the room. But all Haekhael could see was red. In her rage, she grabbed the arrow and pulled it from her arm. She ran and pushed anyone out of the way. This included Voryn Dagoth, as he was shoved to the side.
The woman would push through the crowd of tall and short mer alike and cornered the assassin. The assassin wore a wornout Morag Tong uniform, and an amulet. 
"Halt assassin!" 
"Never!" The mer cried, Haekhael tackled the armored assassin. She put her hand on the mer's neck and they fought. Haekhael tore off the elf's helmet to reveal an elderly dwemer. Many scars laid on his face. It was fragile, Haekhael would remain merciless. 
_______________________
Her arm had need to be patched up. Voryn had her laying down. As he began to cleanse the wound he said,"This could have been avoided if you just  wore pauldrons." 
Haekhael flinched from Voryn touching the tender shoulder. She tightly gripped on part of her robes, as to not slap Voryn. She grunted as he began to heal the small wound with a spell,"Hopefully that wasn't poisoned." "Well, if it was, it was poorly done. Although, I am surprised you're not dead." "That is the story of my life." 
Voryn rolled his eyes,"Whatever you say, sit up. I need to see you move your arm around." 
Haekhael ignored his request and leaned back,"I don't know, I feel pretty tired after ripping an arrow out of my shoulder and crippling an elderly mer." "I will yank you up myself if I have to. Do not test me." "Alright, alright, I'm getting up. Just don't murder me." 
Haekhael sat up slowly, nervously holding out her arm. She moved her shoulder around. There was no pain, only movement. Haekhael used her other hand and pressed against what was left. The memory of where the arrow hit. There was now a scar in the place. 
A soft knock was at the door. Voryn looked over,"Whoever it is, you can come in." "Almalexia was almost assassinated and I would have died, and you're going to allow anyone in?" "Well you're not dead and neither is she, I doubt anyone will try again tonight."
The door creaked open,"It's just me, I swear, I mean no harm." "Ah, Araynys. Have you met tonight's hero?"
The mer was familiar, his braided hair was over his shoulder. He had a light stubble of ebony hair. In a cheery voice the tall mer would say,"Oh, yes! I tried to ask her for a dance. Foolish, as she was on duty."
Haekhael chuckled a bit,"Well, at the moment I'm off duty. My name is Haekhael by the way." 
Araynys walked over and picked up her hand,"It's a pleasure to properly meet you. And a shame I haven't heard more of you! I saw how you wrangled that assassin with ease. Almalexia is blessed to have you as part of her guard." 
Voryn rolled his eyes,"Stop, you're feeding an already big ego." "Speak for your self, I think its quite nice to be appreciated for my work. It's nice to meet you as well, Araynys."
Araynys let go and put his hands at his sides, he seemed childishly shy. He put his hands together and mustered up the little bit of confidence he could and said,"I know there's no music to dance to, but since you said you were off duty, may I have a short dance?" 
Haekhael stood up and grabbed Araynys hand,"Of course, its always nice to make new friends. Though, out of common courtesy I must say I can't dance well. Forgive me if I step on any toes." "That's alright, I know how to dance and I'm still terrible." 
"Have fun being terrible together, try not to get shot with another arrow." Voryn said as he went to the door, shutting it behind him. 
Araynys towered over Haekhael, yet he was gentle as he grabbed her hand and waist. The two carefully stepped along. Still, they managed to step on each other. Haekhael led the dance in the small room as they spun around. Haekhael ended up slipping, and thus, taking Araynys with her. As they crashed, they laughed. Haekhael sat up and apologized. Araynys just shrugged it off,"Don't worry about it. I hope to get to know you more." 
Haekhael smiled,"Yes... You best be off though. I hope to see you more often, preferably under different circumstances."
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lachryphage · 3 years
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I collect National Geographics and one of my oldest ones -- from April 1964 -- has a delightful article on cats: “The Cats in Our Lives” by Adolph Suehsdorf, photographs by Walter Chandoha
the entire article is a gem, but I thought the section on breeds would be especially interesting to @pangur-and-grim​ or really anyone that wants to see how cat breeds have changed over the past 57 years.
below are the photos of the breeds and their variants, and the accompanying descriptions. this is very long but I’m not putting it under a cut because I am malicious lol
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Domestic Shorthair
interestingly, the author says that nearly all cats are this specific breed.
A free roamer and free breeder, it developed coats of many colors and patterns, such as the calico... Show standards of the Cat Fanciers’ Association recognize 20.
here are a couple examples of those variants, although they don’t appear to meet the standards listed with them:
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Odd-eyed White must have one blue eye and one copper or deep orange eye. Her coat should be short, thick, even in texture, and pure white.
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Tortoiseshell standard calls for a coat of black, orange, and cream. Nose should be half black, half orange; the eyes, copper. Males are extremely rare and usually sterile. 
maine coons are included in this section -- despite the acknowledgement that they don’t have short hair.
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Maine coon cat -- a variant Domestic and not a recognized breed -- exhibits long hair and long neck. Early (colonialist) Americans erroneously considered her a cross between cat and raccoon; experts now believe that she descended from wild tabbies with long-hair genes. 
Persian
Pedigreed, pure-blooded, exotic breeds are catdom’s elite. Valued by exhibitors, or “the fancy,” no cat looks fancier than the Persian. Long glossy hair in 20 recognized colors, each color with a specific eye hue, gives the Persian a look of haughty languor. The standard for Persians calls for a chunky build, low on legs, deep in chest, massive across shoulders and rump.
unfortunately, between the crease and the glare, it was really hard to get a good photo of this striking image:
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Here Voo Doo, the Black Persian grand champion owned by cat judge Richard Gebhardt exhibits the qualities demanded for the head... Voo Doo’s expression here belies his gentle disposition. Unlike most males, the seven-year-old cat is devoted to his kittens and takes an active hand in helping their mothers raise them.
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Chinchilla Persians achieve an aristocratic look with pure-white coats so subtly tipped in black as to seem silver. Black rims accent blue-green eyes, lips, and nose, whose center is brick red. Tail should be “carried without a curve,” says the standard. “But,” counters the author, “the man doesn’t live who can tell a cat how her tail should behave.”
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Blue Cream Persian and her Cream kit arrive for a show in a carrying case.
Siamese
Lithe and sinuous body in two-tone color, wedge-shaped head, and bright blue eyes distinguish the Siamese. The C.F.A. standard recognizes four colors -- Seal (black-brown), Blue, Chocolate, and Lilac -- for the points... Red points are also recognized by other associations.
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These Seal Points, exhibiting the most popular color, show eyes conforming to the standard: “Almond shaped and slanting... in true Oriental fashion.”
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Blue Point Siamese, grand champion Jezebelle, wears a  coat of bluish white with points of the same shade of “definite blue, giving strong contrast of divided color.”
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Lilac Point Siamese, champion Tai Shan, requires, for perfection, a body color of “glacial white.” Points, says the standard, should be “frosty gray with pinkish tone. Foot pads... mauve.”
Himalayan
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Champion Goforth Tiara (right) and Blue Point Siamese differ in length of hair and color of masks. Seal Point Himalayan, a cross between Persian and Siamese, must show “conformation the same as for Longhairs,” says the standard. But it must also reveal “color and points the same as for Siamese, with the same color classes.”
Burmese
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Mother and kittens reveal the Burmese to be compact and muscular... Their eyes glow a deep gold. Green eyes are a fault and blue eyes “outrageous enough to disqualify the cat”... The unique and wonderful color of the Burmese is a “rich, warm sable brown.” Coat is short, lies close, has a glossy sheen and satiny texture, Fastest growing in popularity among the Shorthairs, the Burm commands a handsome price.
Russian Blue
“Texture and appearance of the coat are the truest criteria of the Russian Blue,” says the standard in consideration of the fact that this cat’s fur is unlike that of any other breed and, in fact, closely resemble sealskin. Like seal, the Blue’s coat is short, thick, and very fine. It feels silky and has a distinct sheen.
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Here Grigio, a Blue once owned by the photographer, exhibits the required broad face with nose longer than the Persian but shorter than the Siamese. Vivid green eyes are set wide apart and appear round, rather than almond shaped. Young cats have yellow eyes, which change with time... A highly intelligent cat, Grigio enjoyed jumping from one high stool to another in a graceful, arcing leap. Sometimes Mr. Chandoha held a hoop between the two stools, and the cat sailed through it. The performance made it appear that the owner had trained his Blue. “But that wasn’t true,” says Mr. Chandoha. “I just added the props for Grigio’s own act.” One day Grigio walked off the farm and disappeared from Chandoha’s life.
Abyssinian
A breed fast growing in popularity, the Abyssinian has been known for less than a century; England saw its first pair following a British campaign in Ethiopia in 1868.
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These kitten exhibit coats that resemble those of wild rabbits. From a distance, the fur looks brown but actually is ticked... Kittens’ small neat feet make them appear to be standing on tiptoe, as the standard demands. Both wear a necklace of color high on the chest, a marking that is now being bred out of the blood line. If a necklace exists, it must show a break at the throat. Some ambitious exhibitors... “have been known to pluck hairs, to powder, dye, stain, or bleach out a necklace to meet standard.” Bars on the legs of these cats would also be considered a fault.
Manx
Lack of tail distinguishes the Manx. As the standard makes clear, “Tail-lessness must be absolute... There should be a decided hollow at the end of the backbone where, in the ordinary cat, a tail would begin.” The rump should be as round as a ball and supported by hind legs that are longer than the front one.
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Grand champion Pola was the first White Manx to win that title. All colors are recognized for the breed, but they must be worn in a double coat.
Rex
Marcel waves rippling across the body and tail give this cat its unusual appearance. Although the Cat Fanciers’ Association has yet to recognize Rex, other groups have proclaimed it a breed and set up standards. The wavy coat should be the “texture of velvet pile,” and the head should exhibit a “Roman profile.” Ears should be “large and naked, set high on the head.”
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A spontaneous mutation, the Rex is a one-in-a-million oddity found among Domestic Shorthair kittens. One was discovered in England, another in East Berlin. Both strains now are being bred in the United States. There are very few of them so far, however, and experts feel it will be years before they are well established.
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those are the breeds! there’s a ton more info in the article, including more details of each breed but those are the basics.
and now, because this post is already long enough, I will add a little more including,
a meme cat:
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and a cat that reminds me of the infamous Pangur:
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Pain Relief (Jacob Frye x Injured!Reader)
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Hope everyone is doing okay and being safe! Will probably do this in two parts so it’s not too long!
PART 2
You knew going into a gang fight was always risky, but the outcome would always be rewarding. Having ignored the Fyre twin’s pleas, you get out of the situation very poorly.
“Absolutely not. That is the final warning.”
You were beyond seething, arms hunched and crossed, you glared back over at the oldest Frye twin with the fury that Hell could never hold. 
“Are you to expect us to allow them to hold that borough whilst your own allies die in your pettiness?”
“I have said what is needed to be done, Y/N.” Evie - as usual - was collected, methodical and orderly; never quick to raise her voice or that of her temper. “Our numbers are low, we’ve already barely survived the war against them in Southwark, and I’m not going to allow more to be lost.”
“The City of London will perish under Bloody Nora’s fist. She laughs in our anguish and watches us fail.”
“The City of London can be taken within days once we have recruited.” Henry Green added from the sideline, behind Evie as a supporter. “Have we need to wait, our numbers will have flourished.”
“Yes, whilst she gets more of her own to add to the army awaiting us when we arrive.” You snapped. “Had you remembered, she was certain of our strategies. If we can take it back now, she will not have the chance to regroup or engage in expanding, and the borough can be ours.”
You were pacing by now, and you were certain everyone on the train could hear you, even maybe those feeling the seething rage from the upcoming station. You were usually never one to show your fists or get into fights, but if it mattered to you a lot, it could get your blood boiling.
“Let me take some Rooks into the area, we’ll have it by that same afternoon.” You were adamant on taking it.
Evie wouldn’t back down, her blue eyes studying you like a hawk. “There is no way we’re allowing you to go into this gun’s blazing. Have you been taking Jacob’s example in all of this?”
The younger Frye was not on the train - thank God - and you were certain hearing his words on the matter would really irritate you to high heaven. 
You jeered, rolling your eyes. “Now I can see who is better with strategery.”
“Enough. Miss L/N, I would take your leave before you decide to wreck havoc on this train.” Henry moved in once more, pulling you away guardedly by the arm like trying to move off an irritable bull.
You yanked your arm out of his coldly. “I will not watch London go down like this.” Before swerving to get out of the carriage and head to your own room. You slammed the door shut in emphasis, sinking to your bed like a heavy lead weight on your back, gazing up at the ceiling.
“Well, that went well.”
You keened, pinching your nose as you closed your eyes tightly. “Do I want to know how long you were standing outside for?”
Jacob Frye was lounging in the loveseat facing to your bed, legs crossed and his hat laid on the table beside. His body language read relaxation, but the shifting in his hazel eyes told you otherwise.
“Enough to of caught your entire wants and needs. You know, I do appreciate your words, I knew it wouldn’t take long before I would finally be called the strategic sibling.”
“Oh hush,” you rolled your eyes, rolling onto your stomach. “One Frye was bad enough tonight, I don’t want to hear anymore from the other.”
“So, what now? My sister wants one thing, but you’re clearly wanting to go against her.”
You straightened yourself up, suddenly more aware of the circumstances. Whatever words you would say now, you wouldn’t know exactly how Jacob would react. 
“Bloody Nora is holding against the City of London with as much hold than Starrick over the Templar Order. What good is it to stand watch and allow the borough to be kept under an iron fist?”
Jacob gave you an unknown look, one that was practically unreadable in contrast to the charismatic and confident man. Clearly, you knew there was something that was trying to agree with both you and Evie.
“My sister... she won’t understand our brasher sides, but I-- we cannot allow you to go in with such a high risk of succeeding.”
You scoffed once more, going to move to sit on the end of your bed. “You’re siding with your sister? The Jacob Frye, siding with his sister over something so complicated?”
“Love, this isn’t just some child’s play, this is over life and death!” Jacob voiced, and as quick as a deer to get to your side, and before you, he stood at his full height, now trying to get you to stand down.
You listened, silently juggling whether you wanted to kiss the assassin or shove him out. It was certain there were some unrequited feelings shared for him. But, knowing whether the kindled spark was reciprocated was something that made you fear for rejection.
Gingerly and with little hesitation, the younger Frye moving forth to grab onto your hand, taking it into his much large one, stroking your knuckles almost with concern.
“Please don’t do this. You’re a valuable asset to us. And I don’t want your arrogance getting you killed over nothing.” His voice fell lower than you had expected, almost a whisper as his head fell forward, guarding his eyes.
You thought quietly, thinking, and for a moment, Jacob had believed he had managed to get you to accept, but as you slowly rose to your own full height before him, he could only see the fierceness and passion that endured within you. 
You stood just inches below him, the way the dim light caught the shade of them, and how amazing they looked; the man was something else. He was truly beautiful. 
For a moment, you watched his facial expressions: the way his hazel eyes flickered around your face, wordlessly urging you to not go ahead and do this.
And it absolutely terrified him for once.
Your lips were chapped as well as your words. “I would rather burn myself than see my city be in the hands of them. And you know that.”
As much as he didn’t want to admit it and accept that your words of fury were keeping you hot-headed, he knew that the underlying factor was allowing you to want it to be the case.
For once, Jacob thought for once that he wasn’t that rash when it had been just him and Evie against the world.
-
“I can’t believe you let her do this. You didn’t follow after her either.”
“She’s brash, Evie. What can you expect? Her to hold my hand? A gentle scolding like I’m her father?” Jacob sulked, in retreat to the desk as he tried to shut his eyes, blocking the little light already coming in.
“You’re her friend, aren’t you? You would allow me to risk bloody castration?” He argued. Evie resumed her pacing in the same spot you had been in when you had been arguing with her and Henry.
Evie shot him a look over her shoulder. “She is, but I’m sure your... unrequited feelings for her might’ve helped to make her give in.”
Jacob had wished he may have been drinking in this instant, craning his head back to answer a remark about her and Greenie, but the realisation to his sister’s words had hit him smack in the face. “How... when-”
“I see how you pine for each other. I wasn’t born yesterday, Jacob.” Evie retorted, rolling her blue eyes as she chortled. “To put matters to worse, she’ll be throwing herself into a warzone.”
“She won’t, our Y/N knows what’s sensible and what’s not. I’m sure she wouldn’t have gone all that way, still raging.” Jacob frowned solemnly. “She couldn’t of.”
Evie caught onto her brother’s dower appearance, coming to assure him. “She’s the bravest person I know, maybe more impulsive than you yourself, but I know she would be on her wit’s end.”
Jacob chuckled dryly in thought. “You sound a lot like father right now.”
Evie hummed with satisfaction. “You know, he would’ve liked her? The two of you.”
Jacob could’ve felt more at ease when the strength had died down, a female Rook bursting through the door to their carriage, slicked with sweat and panting. “Boss, it’s Miss Y/N. We got ambushed by Bloody Nora’s men, she got away, but Y/N got shot!”
Jacob’s heart dropped lower in his chest at the news, and he wasn’t sure on how he was reacting truly to the news. He felt like part of him wanted to sink to the floor and crawl into a ball and die himself, but the other part was already dragging him out in a rush of adrenaline, a distressed Evie calling back for him to stop.
There was only thought, and it was getting Y/N, his love, out of there.
-
The blood was sticky and matted, half drying on her clothes and fingers as she lay like a dying fish in a dark corner; having dragged herself across the mud and dirt to get out of the firing line.
The wound stung in the side of her stomach: an easy shot from the side of her taken by the woman herself, taking her and the rest of the small group fo Rooks out within seconds, before fleeing. It was only when you were crashed and laying in the mud that you felt another beside you.
You clutched at your side with a sting, the call of your name over and over again, and when you had thought you had been killed and this was the afterlife already awaiting you, you had seen the flash of green and mustard yellow; a female Rook with the name of Alice trying to keep you focused.
“Miss! Miss! Are you okay? Oh, bloody hell! What do I do? I can’t just leave you?”
You hissed in agony and defeat from the situation, only being able to pull one name from your dry lips before the need of passing out fell upon you.
‘J-Jacob Frye... get Jacob Frye.’
You laid there motionlessly, blinking in and out of closing your eyes, forgetting where you were and only craving the darkness. It wasn’t cold nor warm, just welcoming, and you were losing track of time from where you were laying there for.
A noise sounded in the background, growing closer, and your free hand, instinctively went to try and grab at your sword-cane, but a hand came to stop you gently, almost delicately.
Your eyes focused once more, the blurry shape standing over you before coming down to kneel in front of you; another hand coming to support your side.
You cringed in more discomfort, screwing your eyes tight as you felt your eyes water. “I’m sorry,” you gritted your teeth, “I should’ve listened.”
“Hush, love, save your energy.” Jacob’s voice was soft and whispery, as he came to lie back behind you, holding you close to his chest as you leant into him. He cradled you in his broad arms, not bothered by the blood seeping into his fingers, the blood never seemed to stop flowing.
“You need to get to a hospital, to get the bullet out.”
You flinched sourly. “This is what I deserve,” you yelped at a sudden touch of your skin, feeling on fire. “I went against you all... and I deserve this agony.”
Your breathing was growing fainter, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried keeping your head from rolling back. “Just... let me close my eyes for a bit, Jacob.”
“No, I won’t let you do that.” He shook you gently, seeming to coax you in and out of consciousness. “Stay with me, Y/N. Please.”
You attempted to nod your head, your bloodied hand coming to rest of top of his larger one holding your wound, trying your best to squeeze it. “I’ll... I-- “Has anyone ever told you how lovely your eyes are?”
Jacob sourly bit his lip, moving round to see your facial expressions turn more neutral. He sighed, kissing your hairline. “No, you never have.”
“They’re so beautiful,” you cooned, your voice rather peaceful and collected for your state. “I just want to look at them.”
Jacob sighed at your requests, allowing you to crane your head back to allow your face to meet his, and you could directly stare up into his lovely hazel eyes.
“There they are.” You smiled softly, almost melancholic, a hand hesitantly coming to cradle the side of his face, stroking his sideburns with tenderness. “Thank you... Jacob.”
Your eyes fluttered shut: finally feeling at peace as all you wanted to do was welcome darkness, finally allowing yourself to be in the arms of the one you loved and cared for the most.
-
This sucked a bit, but I’ll be writing the second half of this! See you soon!
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keelywolfe · 4 years
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FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 7 (Mafia AU)
Summary: Rus is getting to wake up and face a new day. A shame that staying in bed and hiding sounds like a better option.
Tags: Spicyhoney, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
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Read on AO3
or
Read it here!
~~*~~
It felt like he’d hardly slept at all when Blue shook him awake. Rus floundered in the tangled sheets, struggling to sit up as he blinked in confusion at the unfamiliar room. Then everything came back in a rush and Rus very nearly dove back beneath the blankets, the better to hide from his own stupidity. Might have even made it if Blue hadn’t exclaimed in surprise, catching him up in his short, sturdy arms.
“Easy, little brother,” Blue crooned. He petted Rus’s skull, fingers moving in soothing, gentle pats. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“it’s okay,” Rus croaked out and he gave in to the childish urge to lean into his brother’s embrace, taking the comfort he freely offered. “just a little jumpy, i guess.”
Blue held on a few moments longer before easing away, “I should have let you sleep,” he fretted. “after everything that happened, you need your rest, you didn’t even stir when the butler knocked on the door, I should have—”
“bro, i’m fine,” Rus interrupted, “you just startled me.” He proved it by squirming free of the blankets and climbing out of the bed to his feet, and if he was a little wobbly, eh, he caught his balance quickly enough. He was about to escape to the bathroom to shower, a combo guaranteed to put off conversation and let him wake up a little more, when he saw the new addition to their room of a neatly folded stack of clothes on the little coffee table by the sofa. A look at his brother confirmed he was already dressed in a pair of trousers and a fine shirt, the lovely floral pattern shades of blue and yellow to match his starry eye lights.
He looked charmingly handsome and that was not an outfit that had ever been in his brother’s closet.
“that’s a different look for you, bro,” Rus said warily.
“Yes, well.” Blue smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt, fingering the pearl buttons. “We’ve been invited to breakfast with our hosts,” Blue said brightly. “That’s the only reason I wanted to wake you up. They’re expecting us in a half an hour, and I wanted to give you time to get ready.”
Time to get ready? An entire half an hour to prepare himself to see Edge after last night’s catastrophe. Something of his dismay must’ve shown on his face and Blue’s overbright cheer faltered, his expression torn. Probably caught between the worry of insulting their ‘hosts’ and Rus’s state of mind.
Yeah, right now his state of mind was up for reelection. A hysterical laugh tried to bubble out of his throat as Rus backed away, feebly disguised as a cough. “no prob, bro, i’ll be fast in the shower.”
He didn’t give Blue a chance to say anything else, like maybe try to send him back to bed with an offer to make excuses for Rus’s absence. Didn’t he have enough to worry about right now without fretting that his little bro was going to embarrass him in front of their new…what? Business partner? Seemed like a good a title as any and Rus snatched up the pile of clothes without even looking at it and darted into the shower, closing and locking the door behind him.
The bathroom gave him a pause, jarring him from his creeping panic. All gleaming fixtures and shining porcelain tiles, with a row of soaps and gels sitting invitingly on the back of the counter. A peek in one of the drawers revealed plenty of other toiletries, including several unopened toothbrushes. The shower cubical was even better, instead of one shower head, the massive stall was lined with several coming from all angles, ready to hose down whoever dared step inside. The walls were beaded with water, probably from Blue using it and Rus stifled a giggle to think of his rather petite brother using it, trying not to get washed away like a paper boat in a hurricane.
Was there anything in this place that wasn’t turned up to eleven?
Rus set down the stack of clothes on the counter and snagged a toothbrush along with the shower gel that smelled the least offensive. The nightshirt he stripped off and tossed into a handy hamper, he’d sleep bare ass tonight if he had to, rather than wear that piece of failure again. He fiddled with the knobs until he figured out how to get to the hot water, then stepped in, letting the liquid bliss pour down on him and guiltily basking in the seemingly endless fall of hot water that their rickety old water heater couldn’t have come close to.
He probably could’ve stayed an hour without the chill chasing him out, but he’d promised his brother to be quick. So he stripped the plastic off the toothbrush, scrubbing at his pearly whites and using the shower as an impromptu water pick, then switching over to the bath poof and shower gel, determinedly scrubbing every nook and cranny, all the way down to his toe joints. It was just a shame that getting clean didn’t take up nearly as much of his thought process as he needed to keep his mind blank and memories of last night crept in, jabbing gleefully at him.
What had he even been thinking? The stress of everything that happened yesterday must’ve torpedoed his common sense, because seriously, trying to seduce Edge in the hopes it would get them, what, a little security and an extra promise to help, on top of what he’d already done? Trust was a hard-earned commodity, Above or Belowground, but if he stirred a little critical thinking into his thought process, there was proof that Edge wasn’t exactly untrustworthy. Not yet, anyway.
The whole shooting up their shop and Rus getting kidnapped off the street was Edge’s fault, sure, he’d admitted that much, but, honestly, Edge could’ve walked away at anytime already. He’d saved Rus at the shop, sure, but he could’ve let his brother get away with his little threat session without trying to intercede, could’ve let his old buddy Blaze keep Rus and not endangered himself at all getting him out of there.
Edge said he wasn’t a good guy and maybe, okay, probably that was true, but that wasn’t exactly the side he’d been showing Rus, not quite. He’d been trying to clean up the mess he’d accidentally made and here was Rus, trying to barter for a little extra on the side. The more he thought about it, the more humiliating it was; he’d actually tried to…to sell himself to Edge, a guy who could obviously get sex anytime he wanted, just because he’d confessed to having a bit of a fantasy going about him, like Rus wasn’t guilty of the same sort of idle daydream.
A very bad person, he’d said, but he’d still sent Rus away rather than taking what he was offering, and maybe the whys of that weren’t completely clear, but that didn’t seem like something a bad guy would do. It just didn’t.
Which meant that Rus was the asshole for this round and what he wouldn’t give for a damn cigarette right about now. Nicotine cravings were already making him jittery, but his smokes were in his lost bag. That reminder gave him a pang; he was going to miss all those anime pins, he’d been collecting them since before they got to the surface. Kidnapping was one thing, stealing his hard-found collectibles was another level of jerk.
Well, no matter what Edge’s reasons were for turning him down, all Rus could hope was that he had the decency not to bring it up in front of Blue.
Rus shut the water off, snagging a large, fluffy towel to wipe off. His bones were barely dry as he stepped out onto the bathmat, careful not to slip. A concussion on top of everything was all he needed.
He hung the damp towel up next to his brother’s and inspected the clothes in the stack. As suspected, they were new, every item of it down to the undershorts and socks. Not his normal choice of wardrobe; when he wasn’t at the shop Rus normally preferred T-shirts and shorts, and there was a plentiful cheap supply at the local thrift shop. He wasn’t really used to anyone else picking out his underwear and he debated on whether to leave them off before sighing and skimming on the soft cotton shorts. At least it wasn’t a red satin thong or something, he wasn’t sure he could stand sitting in the same room with that Red guy with something like that trying to saw his pelvis in half.
The dark trousers fitted perfectly and so did the soft linen pullover, not the wine color of last night’s borrowed pajamas, but a deep sage green that contrasted nicely with his magic. Everything was exactly the right size and as odd as that was, Rus supposed it was still better than them raiding their house and going through their drawers. But he did wonder glumly how much this might add to their growing tab.
There was a full-length mirror on one wall and Rus looked into it, studying his reflection. He didn’t look like himself, which was fine, because he damn well didn’t feel like himself, either. Probably hadn’t since Edge jumped the counter at the shop and pulled him down to the floor.
His half-hour was about up, there was no putting it off any longer. Blue looked up anxiously when he came out and Rus summoned up his best cheesy grin and struck a pose, “ta-da, how do i look?”
“Very nice,” Blue told him, even as he gestured at Rus to lean down so he could fuss over his collar, smoothing it. “try not to spill anything down the front of it in the first five minutes?”
“do my best, food and gravity don’t always mix well around me.”
He followed his brother to the door where a comfortable pair of house shoes in his size were lined up neatly to the side waiting for him. Not, Rus noted, the kind meant to be worn outside. His own sneakers were nowhere to be seen and yeah, he could take a hint. ‘Stay put’ was the word, for now.
A Dog was standing guard outside the door and Rus was shamefully relieved that it wasn’t the same guy as last night. He led them on another winding path and seriously, did the guy who designed this place go on to find fame and fortune making labyrinths for other Goblin Kings?
The door he led them to opened into a surprisingly airy room, with windowed French doors letting in the morning sunshine. Red was already seated at the head of a table and the cigar in his hand was thankfully unlit. His gold tooth glinted as he grinned, “mornin’, hope ya slept well.”
“We did, thank you,” Blue said. Rus only nodded along with him. He still wasn’t very interested in getting chatty with Mister ‘make it a double’ over there. If Edge really was as bad as he claimed to be, Rus could sure see where he picked it up from.
The table was long, topped in covered trays and platters, and the second Blue and Rus were seated, the lids were whisked away by the Dogs. Rus kinda thought he was getting to his limits of surprise, but it seemed like he still had some stashed away for a special occasion.
The amount of food laid out was staggering; surrounding the crystal goblets of water and orange juice were bowls of prettily cut fruit, a platter of sticky pastries alongside crusty croissants. More plates that held richly browned sausages and crispy bacon, and there was an entire tray pancakes and waffles snuggled next to each other with a steaming pitcher of syrup beside them. Pan-grilled tomatoes, poached eggs nestled into their cups, this was more food than they saw in a week. Every dish held something delectable and Rus wasn’t sure his roiling magic would let him eat a single bite.
Looked like the dial on this place actually went all the way up to twelve.
“Goodness,” Blue said, a little helplessly, “it certainly looks delicious.”
There was an air of something like smugness around Red, as if their obvious surprise pleased him, “eh, wasn’t sure what you liked, so i had ‘em bring in a lil’ of everythin’.”
A little of everything was one way to put it. Normally, a good breakfast in Rus’s opinion was when Blue splurged on the oatmeal with the dinosaur eggs.
Red picked up his fork and gestured at the table. “go ahead, dig in while it’s hot.”
Blue tucked his napkin into his lap first in that exaggerated way he did things that he expected Rus to mimic. “Shouldn’t we wait for your brother?”
“nah,” And Rus wasn’t sure why he was bothering with a napkin when it was clear their host didn’t mind talking around a mouthful of sausage. He at least swallowed before he added, “i shook him outta bed a bit ago, he’ll be down.”
That seemed to be enough to satisfy Blue’s sense of propriety. He began to fill his plate, taking a small portion from each tray. Rus only chose one of the pastries that had a quivering dollop of jam on top so that he had something to pick at, hyperaware of the way Red was watching them.
It made Rus think of a horror movie he’d seen, where a pale man hung around waiting for anyone who dared eat from his banquet and those that did paid the price for it with their lives.
Yeah, whatever, Red was no pale man, no eldritch horror. He was a thug playing dress up to impress them for some damn reason, trying to show off how much better he was. Wasn’t gonna work on Rus, thanks, Blue had twice the manners of this asshole, and when Red’s supposedly well-paid servants were scraping all this into the trash, Blue would still be the one who spent hours making cookies for the neighborhood kids in his rare time off.
Defiantly, Rus took a huge bite of pastry, cheekbones puffing out and Blue didn’t even have a chance to kick him in the knee for his manners when the door was flung open and Edge stalked inside.
“morning, bro,” Red said easily. Edge only gave a surly grunt in return, heading right to the sidebar where a gleaming machine with too many dials and knobs sat. A few twists and clicks, and it started gurgling, filling the air with the gorgeous aroma of coffee and if it weren’t for the awkward ending to how Rus tried to get into Edge’s pants last night, he would have crawled over the table with a cup held out in a modern take on ‘please sir can I have some more’.
Look, he couldn’t be bought with fancy clothes or food, but coffee was on a different playing field.
Since that wasn’t on the table, (heh), instead Rus chewed frantically, still trying to gulp down his overflowing mouthful of dry pastry when Edge turned around with a freshly filled cup in hand. He nearly choked on his first sip as he caught sight of the table, swinging around to give his brother a positively scathing glare.
Ah. Looked like maybe Red neglected to mention they’d be here. Great.
“Good morning,” Edge said, scowling into his cup. He was already impeccably dressed in one of those suits of his, but the normal rasp in his voice was downright hoarse and beneath his sockets were rusty stains of exhaustion. He didn’t look like he’d slept two winks after Rus left him last night.
“are you—” okay, Rus didn’t say, looked back down at his plate. Like he had any right to ask Edge anything after what he did.
Turned out, he wasn’t the only one concerned. Blue never ignored a chance to play caretaker and he was all but standing in his chair, leaning across the table anxiously. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, Edge, but you look a touch under the weather, are you feeling all right?”
“I’m afraid it’s self-inflicted,” Edge said. He took another long sip from his mug, clearing his throat before adding smoothly, “My apologies, I had a little too much to drink last night.”
That only seemed to up Blue’s concern, probably worrying it was their fault Edge was spending his night drinking, which, well, it sort of was. At least half their fault, anyway, and Rus stared hard at his plate where the bitten pastry was oozing jam like a wound.
“But self-inflicted doesn’t mean you need to suffer,” Blue objected. “I know how to heal, I could—”
“Thank you,” Edge interrupted firmly, “but no.”
“It’s no trouble at all!”
“I’m sure it’s not. I appreciate the offer, but it won’t be necessary.”
“But—"
Rus kept his head down, picking flecks of sugar glaze off his wounded pastry as he waited for Edge’s immovable object to stop butting against Blue’s unstoppable force. A wary glance at Red showed him leaning back in his seat with his hands woven together over his belly, watching the show.
Yeah, he seemed like the kind of guy to think this was hilarious and considering that their height difference made Blue the metaphorical dachshund barking at the great dane’s ankles, Rus had to admit, Red sort of had a point. This time.
Blue looked as if he were chewing on his own tongue instead of a pancake, complaining, “If I could get to my garden, I’d at least make you some tea. It’s my own blend!”
Tea wasn’t a bad idea, really, not nearly as invasive as letting someone use their own magic directly on you. Golden flower tea, infused with the magic Blue used to tend to their gardens and like all Monster food, it had healing qualities. Rus knew from personal experience it tended to be quite potent.
“Coffee will suffice,” Edge said decisively and that seemed to be the end of it.
“Well, at least sit down and get some food in you. It’s been a while since my brother and I had a chance to share breakfast,” Blue said brightly. “He’s usually off to open the shop while I tend to the garden, it’s been mostly cold cereal for us, I’m afraid.”
“All I want is coffee, I need to get downtown.”
Red spoke up at then, “that ain’t no way to treat your guests.”
“We don’t have guests,” Edge snapped.
“no?” Red let out a short, abrupt laugh, though his glittering eye lights held no humor. “you got a better name, bro?”
Rus had a few. Prisoners, kidnappees, captives? Hostages? None of those seemed to quite fit the bill and maybe Edge was thinking the same thing. “I brought one guest. The other is here entirely because of you, so I believe entertainment is your purview.”
“only fair for me to have a pal if you do.”
“Yes, fair,” Edge said dryly. “Fairness is always a concern of yours.”
“hey.” That tone made Rus want to sit up straight and cringe at the same time, iron-hard. “have a seat, boss.”
Boss? Rus gave up on his attempt to blend into the furniture and looked up, reluctantly curious. Red caught him out almost instantly and his cool glare shifted to an easy, lazy grin.
“don’t need to be so surprised, sweetheart, edge is the one who runs things ‘round here,” Red said lazily. “i do this and that, let him handle th’ important shit. always was fuckin’ terrible at paperwork.”
Next to him, Blue was chewing determinedly, stabbing at his sausages with his fork. It was probably killing him not to chide Red about his language, but he was also their host. Torn between one set of manners and another left him at a silent impasse.
Edge gave his brother another scathing glare but didn’t argue. “I need to get to work.”
He set his coffee cup down on the side of the table with a solid thunk, turning towards the door, and he was going to leave, heading out when he wasn’t at his best where there were people trying to kill him and Rus wouldn’t even have a chance to say anything, to explain, he couldn’t—
“i’m sorry!” Rus blurted out as he shot to his feet, knocking against the table hard enough to rattle the glasses and flatware. “i’m so sorry, for last night. i didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Edge froze. Slowly, he turned back to face Rus, looking down at him and Rus met that unwavering crimson gaze without flinching, despite the frantic pounding in his soul. He wasn’t good at this, not with apologies or confrontation; he’d rather go hide and smoke through a pack of cheap Marlboros until he was sick while wishing for this to all go away. But he couldn’t let Edge go out there thinking…well, thinking whatever he did about Rus. By now he had to be catching on to the fact that his fantasies weren’t anything close to Rus’s reality and that was what it was, but at least Rus wanted that reality to be the truth and not tainted by one thoughtless act.
Edge looked away first, flicking a glance at Blue and Red, both who were watching with varying levels of narrow confusion.
“Forthright,” Edge murmured. His tight, cold expression eased, softening, “I’m sorry, too, flower shop. I was a little drunk, and I shouldn’t have,” his gaze flicked again to Red, who was watching with brow bones climbing ever higher on his forehead, and Blue, who was full out gaping, mouth open. Whatever he’d been about to say was amended smoothly to, “Shouldn’t have said what I did.”
“okay, so we’re both sorry. that’s…that’s good.” Rus smiled a little, stupidly. It wasn’t like this solved anything or changed it. It still made that hard ache behind his breastbone loosen, gave him some measure of ease.
That faint, lopsided smile curving Edge’s mouth was even better. Rus braced himself when Edge reached out, then he watched in confusion as Edge plucked up a napkin, dabbing lightly at the side of Rus’s mouth. “Jam,” he said, as if in explanation. As though anything could explain the way he paused with his knuckles lightly resting against Rus’s chin, his gloved thumb following along the same path as the napkin, “Behave while I’m gone. I’m running low on rescues.”
It took a second for that to get through the warm, fuzzy haze settling over Rus, brought on by the gentle touch against his mouth. When it did, he stood up straighter in pure indignation, protesting, “i wasn’t misbehaving before!”
“No, you weren’t,” Edge agreed. “But somehow, you’ve already figured out how to cause me plenty of trouble, I’d hate to see what you manage if you actually tried.”
Rus swore he could feel the husky rumble of that voice through Edge’s touch, but it was another voice that broke the spell, this one as jagged as broken glass.
“thought you were leavin', boss,” Red sounded perturbed and he seemed to have forgotten his quest to get Edge to sit down to breakfast with them.
Edge said nothing. There was only a last brush of his gloved fingers across Rus’s cheekbone, satin-soft over the lingering bruise. Then he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Rus alone with an outraged Red and his own suspicious brother.
Rude. Guess rescues didn’t include from family.
Welp, Edge might like to play the knight in tarnished armor, but for Rus, he was going with abject cowardice. He started filling his plate with food, ignoring the way Edge’s cologne seemed to cling to where he’d touched and replaced that aroma with tasty bacon.
“this’s really good,” Rus said around a mouthful, risking his brother’s wrath as he shoveled in another bite. If he kept eating, he couldn’t say anything stupid.
It was worth a shot.
Edge’s half-filled coffee cup was still sitting on the table and with a mental shrug Rus stole it, downing the bitter blackness in a shuddering gulp. Waste not the caffeine. He had a feeling from the way Red and Blue were still staring at him that he was probably gonna need all the help he could get.
tbc
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cafeinthemoon · 3 years
Text
Purple Dragon – Chapter 3
Title: Purple Dragon
Genre: Fanfiction
Pairing: Bakugou x Ryu Murasaki (oc)
Rating: teen and up
Word count: 4024
Chapter: 3/?
Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶️ | ▶️
Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2
Warnings: canon divergence, multiple POVs
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Chapter 3 - At the Dormitory
That they had a specific time to go their rooms at the U.A.’s dormitory, everyone in Class 1A knew. But this didn’t stop most of them them from disobeying this rule at least that night to meet at the common room and talk about the new student and all the things they want to ask her: how was life in the USA? Did she liked living there? How did she react when she heard she was going to move to Japan? Was it too hard?
Not that Shouto Todoroki didn’t want to know more about his new classmate. Perhaps he was as curious as everyone else, and the girl’s quirk was a good one, perfect for a hero; he just wasn’t so loud about his curiosity as the others.
Ryu Murasaki, with her wavy, purple hair covering her shoulders, her round lilac eyes going all over the class as if searching for a comforting spot to look at while searching for the proper manner to present herself and with her fists clenching on the sides of her body, trying to hide the garish nail polish that fought against the delicacy of her hands, seemed to feel everything dressed in the U.A.’s uniform – except at ease. It could be just shyness, yes, but somehow it wasn’t enough to explain what was seen during her presentation: from the beginning to the end of the classes, she sent the impression that she was performing a role that wasn’t designed for her. Something in her kept her separated from her the others, as someone of another kind, forged with different tools. Being there in a college uniform, showing herself to people in a traditional institution, just wasn’t for her. If only there was away know if anyone else sensed the same...
And not only this, but there was something in the way she spoke about her quirk that remained unnoticed even by Midoriya with his neat notes and observations: it seemed to be the last thing she wanted to do. Didn’t she appreciate her own power? Well, there was nothing embarrassing about making things float; or didn’t she know how to properly control it? Maybe, but at that age? Or perhaps she was only capable of controlling small objects such as a notebook. Everything was possible. Some quirks were harder to master than others; Todoroki, who still had some trouble with his fire side, knew it well.
However, he didn’t like the idea of making precipitated conclusions. Opinions and impressions were not a fair standard, neither they were reliable; it was better to wait and see the events taking place before speaking about what he didn’t knew.
And that was what he was doing now, sitting in a corner of that room where most of the students were reunited. Mina, Momo, Tsuyu and Jiro were occupying one of the sofas: the pink-skinned girl sitting on its back while the other three were on the regular seats. On the other sofa, there were Bakugou, Kirishima and Kaminari on the seats, with Mineta on the sofa’s arm, but no conversation took place between them. A bit distant from this main group, Tokoyami and Shoji were engaged in a calm conversation while looking at the window.
The girls were turned to Jiro, commenting about the fact that the new student would have the room next to hers. Some of the changes were still implemented, that was true, and she was still moving her stuff to the room, all of them imagining how things were going to be with the work finished and Ryu Murasaki finally established as one of them.
- I wonder what type of music she likes – Jiro was speaking more to herself than to the others.
- I’m not an expert in music, but she has all the manners of someone who listens to underground, sophisticated stuff – Momo replied.
Aoyama, who just entered the room and heard the girl’s words, approached the group, agreeing without second thoughts.
- Imagine if she could share her fine taste with us! – in his eyes appeared a shine that resembled the bright beam he sent out from his belly – Momo would bring us the best of her tea collection, our new friend would bless us with her music knowledge and I would illuminate the path for all of you!
Jiro rolled her eyes and refused to give him a verbal response. Tsuyu pointed, cautious:
- I’d rather ask her about her tastes. Appearances are usually deceiving.
Mina united her palms in her cheerful manners.
- In this case, I hope she likes dancing music!
Todoroki listened to this whole conversation with polite attention, but no disposition to add his own thoughts to it. He mentally agreed with Tsuyu, but expecting that the others would do the same was too much. He was not so close to the boys at the window to hear their conversation, and neither he was willing to join them; the same could be said about the boys on the sofa: while Kirishima would not hide his interest in the chat between Aoyama and the girls, Kaminari and Mineta were lost in their own fantasies, certainly planning to ask the girl if she was single. Surrounded by them and not satisfied with it, Bakugou had his head laid down on the sofa’s back and his eyes closed, not interested in any of that but still present, despite knowing his classmates would not stop the talking so soon.
Or so Todoroki thought.
He followed when the room fell silent and everyone’s heads turned to the dormitory’s entry to see Ryu Murasaki coming in, along with Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka.
***
The slight apprehension she felt while approaching the dormitory’s room accompanied by new friends made Ryu tight his hands around the book she borrowed from the green-haired boy, but it was nothing compared to what she experienced that morning during her introduction. By that time she knew no one and barely had the time to learn the teacher’s name; now, some familiarity was being built between her and those three, Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka.
Iida, as the class’ representative, offered himself to show her the school’s most important departments, and they were followed by the other students who also had useful – and cheerful – observations that enriched Ryu’s experience as a new member of the heroes course and soothed Iida’s over attachment to the rules and norms.
When they passed by the Library, she spoke about a book she started to read weeks before leaving the United States and never got the chance to finish. It turned out that Midoriya had the same book with him and offered to go to his room and grab it for her. The four went to his room together, with Iida hurrying the group for it was by the hour when they were supposed to go to sleep.
When they opened the dormitory’s room and met almost the whole class there, awake and engaged in multiple excited conversations, Iida almost fainted, being held by Midoriya and Uraraka. But his recovery was instantaneous, and just like the others he noticed when their classmates’ eyes turned to the girl with purple hair.
Ryu swallowed, but was glad that she was not entering there all alone and that it wasn’t a classroom. Without the pressure of the earlier formalities, she could observe the place and the people in it with more attention.
The room seemed larger than that one where she had that first conversation with Aizawa, but its decoration followed the same simplicity and tidiness of it. The windows, as large as all the ones she saw in other departments of the U.A., would left anyone close to them exposed to observers outside, but no one seemed uncomfortable in the room whether by them or anything else.
In their own way, the students inside the room were as interesting as Midoriya, Uraraka and Iida.
On one side, at a slight distance from the others, a boy with his hair parted in two contrasting shades – pure white and dark red – was leaning on a wall with his arms crossed; when he turned to the newcomers, Ryu noticed his eyes were of different colors too: one was brown, as the other was of a vibrant blue, this one surrounded by a reddish mark that resembled the darker tone of his hair.
Not so far from his spot, there was a yellow sofa from where four girls were looking at them. The first one, with black eyes and both her hair and skin pink, smiled and waved to welcome the four; Ryu saw a pair of yellow horns growing our of her shaggy curls. A blonde boy with bright eyes and fancy manners was just beside her, competing for the newcomers’ attention. Right behind them, a girl with a long a ponytail greeted them with a discreet smile; the girl beside her, with her short hair in a darker tone of Ryu’s, imitated her gesture. The last person on the sofa was a girl with big eyes and a large mouth; instead of speaking, she made a noise that could have escaped from a frog’s throat.
Having all those eyes on her would have made Ryu turn her back and walk away if she hadn’t the three students by her side. Iida was preparing himself to make formal introductions between her and the group, but his measure ended up being unnecessary when most of them came to greet the new girl with gentle smiles and words.
The pink girl was the first to speak.
- Ryu-san! I’m Mina Ashido!
The blonde boy close to her was the second; his name was Aoyama Yuga. The others approached while Ryu and the three came inside the room and Uraraka closed the door behind them.
There were too many names for Ryu to remember, but things became easier once each student revealed their quirks: Mina explained that she was able to expel an acid fluid; Aoyama said he could emit a laser ray through his belly button; the girl with the ponytail, Momo Yaoyorozu, who Iida explained to be the vice representative of the class, used the lipids of her body to create anything she imagined; the girl who was sitting beside her introduced herself as Jiro, and when she approached, Ryu saw she had earphone jacks coming from her earlobes, indicating a quirk connected to the sound; the girl with frog characteristics said her name was Tsuyu Asui, but preferred to be called Tsuyu; her abilities were in fact the ones of an amphibian.
In a moment, Ryu was surrounded by Aoyama and the girls, who had countless questions about her and the United States.
- So you just came from the United States? That’s incredible!
- Did your parents use to speak in Japanese with you at home? That’s how you became bilingual, right?
- We could make a study group and you could help us with the English lessons! What do you think?
Other questions came after these, and Ryu did her best to answer them. How was life in the united States? Reasonable. She had the places she liked to go, the food she liked to eat and a couple of friends. Was she enjoying being in Japan? It was strange, but not bad. She had lived out of it for many years, so it was like being there for the first time. Everything was so colorful and had some sort of order that she couldn’t find in the United States. Oh, and they had the Number One Super Hero, All Might! That was great!
Midoriya’s cheeks turned red the moment he heard that.
- If I knew you liked All Might, Ryu-san, I’d tell this before: now he’s one of our teachers!
Ryu’s eyes widened a bit.
- Really? You guys are really lucky!
More questions came, and what was expected to be an interrogatory ended up being a joyful meeting. The difference between the environments of the classroom and that place was tangible. A group of young people reunited at night with no responsibilities until the next day would not behave differently; Ryu allowed herself to enjoy the light atmosphere created by them...
Until a harsh voice rose up above the others, that silenced themselves in response.
- Won’t you stop the blabbering? I bet even the new girl can’t take it anymore.
The group moved out of the way, creating a gap in the circle they formed around Ryu. When she looked through it, the sight of a second sofa in front of the one where the girls were appeared and she recognized the owner of the voice: that blonde boy who scolded Midoriya in the classroom for taking notes about her quirk. His head was leaning on the sofa’s back, but soon he straightened up and looked at the group, directly at Ryu. For the first time, she noticed he had red eyes.
At his left, a boy with red hair and sharp teeth told him to calm down.
- You don’t need to be so hard on them, Bakugou – he spoke in a conciliating tone – This is the first time we have a classmate from another country. That’s exciting, if I’m being honest.
The boy turned to Ryu and gave her a wide smile.
- Oh, Ryu-san! I’m Kirishima, by the way!
Ryu was about to reply when the annoyed boy, who he called Bakugou, interrupted:
- If she was born in this country, she’s not a foreigner, you know?
- Yes, but…
The other groaned and Kirishima gave up on the argument.
Ryu sensed her throat tightening. Yes, it was getting late and they all had time to go to their rooms instead of being loud and chatting, but how was it a reason for him to speak like that with his classmates, she couldn’t understand. Why did everything seem to irritate this guy? Why didn’t he just leave then? Besides, why did he insist on talking about her as if she wasn’t there?
Midoriya, who was quiet during all this discussion, swallowed in the same nervous manner as he did in the classroom. That was his usual response to the other boy’s exasperation, then. Ryu looked at the others and sensed a growing tension from some and an hilarious reaction from others, as if they’ve witnessed scenes like that countless times before.
And that pissed her off.
- Hey.
Her voice came out before she could think of something to say. Only when everyone turned to her she understood what she did. But now it was too late to not go ahead.
- Hey. The howling one.
Bakugou looked at the girl as if he was seeing her in the room for the first time. He came forward on his seat, his elbows leaning on his thighs.
- You’re talking to me? – he asked, knowing the answer was yes.
A knot was formed in her stomach, but she had to stand her ground.
- Is anyone else making as much noise as you? – she raised an eyebrow – Of course I’m talking to you.
- And? – it was the only response to come out from his mouth.
Her fingers clenched around the book, sweat wetting its cover; she would apologize to Midoriya when this was over. Sensing the boy’s nervousness beside her encouraged her next words.
- What’s the matter with you? – she started, making a gesture with the book that indicated the door behind her – If our conversation annoys you so much, you can just leave. We’re not forcing you to stay.
Kirishima held his breath, half smiling half serious; the look he gave her said she had no idea of what she just woke up. Midoriya took a step back, probably thinking the same. He let a gasp escape when Bakugou stood up from the sofa, coming at Ryu’s direction.
- So you just came here and think you can kick me out, uh? – he showed his teeth in an unsettling imitation of a smile – What if I show you how things really work here, new girl?
Ryu didn’t move in her spot. That boy, his harsh tone and manners, could be possessive of his territory and not accept the slightest threat against it and be successful in maintaining his dominance, but it wasn’t like she never met people like him before. Kids like that one were present in all the classes she was part of, having their behavior encouraged by the misleading judgment of the teachers who couldn’t tell the difference between boldness and true courage and the shyness of the other children, and she would have been just another victim of them if it wasn’t for the quirk she manifested at five.
That time, with that Bakugou boy, things weren’t different.
Ryu saw when he raised his right hand and waited to see what was coming from it: what type of quirk was his? Something loud and violent, if it fitted him as a person. And she wasn’t wrong: the beginning of small explosions was now visible on his palm, and everything indicated that their size would increase. A quirk associated with fire – Ryu has seen this before. They were effective by their dizzying effect, so that the opponent’s wisest decision was to defend themselves first and think of a counteraction later.
Bakugou was now a few steps from Ryu.
- Try to kick me out if can, new girl – he barked – I’m doing half of the work coming to you!
Midoriya raised his hands, trying to contain his classmate’s mood. By the way he spoke to him, they must have known each other for a long time.
- K-Kacchan…!
The pair of red eyes turned to the apprehensive boy at the same time, and he swallowed.
- Stay out of it, Deku!
The explosions on Bakugou’s hand were reunited in just one, bigger and louder, directed at Midoriya. It was going to cause a disaster in the room… but Ryu was faster.
She threw the book between the two students, and the object, surrounded by purple streams of energy, grew into something rounded, of a metallic, silver tone that reflected the lights of the contained explosion on its polished surface. Midoriya, who had his arms covering his face, took a second to understand that the strike didn’t hit him; he moved his arms away and straightened up to find a shield hiding his classmate from his sight.
He recognized the purple streams.
- Ryu-san…
Something in his tone made Ryu realize what she just did. She glanced at Midoriya and couldn’t tell if he was impressed with what he saw or worried about his book being turned into a fireproof shield. It was always like that: she would never noticed how far she came until something or someone around her wake her senses; that was the issue of having an instinctive quirk.
Soon, her fingers manipulated the energy around the shield and it disappeared. In its place, the book reappeared on her hand. Her hair, that floated at the sudden and intense use of her quirk, fell down to their previous place around her shoulders.
She saw Bakugou’s eyes staring at hers when the shield was gone; it was like he knew exactly where they would be even before the barrier could be undone. In them, Ryu expected to see the same things she has found in the eyes of many bullies and mean individuals she met in her school years and in the streets after seeing her quirk in action. But more was shown there.
It wasn’t just the raw irritation from before: some sort of mute surprise was blended with it, resulting in groans that replaced any word that could have came out with the unexpected counteraction for a quirk that never failed him before. Ryu knew the signs: Bakugou was impressed, but that didn’t mean he liked what he saw.
She turned your attention to the book. There was a small scratch on the cover.
- I’m sorry for this – she apologized to Midoriya, still speechless – I ended up not explaining this in class, but I can also change the configuration of any object. Most of the times I can return them to their previous state with no problems, but some times things like this happens – she pointed at the scratch – I’m really sorry.
The boy had his eyes as big as two moon, staring at his new classmate. Ryu was waiting for him to say if there was a problem with the scratch or not, but none of them had time to say a word.
- Oi – Bakugou interrupted the talking – Don’t you dare ignore me like that, witch.
Ryu raised her eyes to him, not believing in the nickname he just found for her.
- This isn’t over…
A new sequence of explosions grew in his palm and Ryu started to think of a new form of defend herself… but the expected attack never came. The explosions disappeared from his hand at the same time that the purple energy she started to create vanished from hers.
A new and tired voice was heard in the room.
- What are you doing out of your rooms so late?
Everyone turned to the room’s door, that has been open to show a tired man in black pajamas. However, the redness in his eyes were more an indication that his quirk was in use than from sleep.
- Aizawa-sensei! – the whole class gasped.
Iida was about to apologize in the name of the entire class, but Aizawa didn’t give him the chance: one look from him and everyone passed the door, running towards their rooms right after.
Besides Ryu, the last ones were Midoriya, Bakugou and that boy with two shades in his hair. He remained in silence during all the altercation, and now showed no hurry to leave the room. He passed all the three students and left without a look at them or the teacher. Bakugou followed him with his hand on his pockets, still groaning; neither he had a look or a word to Aizawa.
Midoriya went to the door and tried to say something to make amends for him and for Ryu, or so it seemed to be when he glanced at her while talking to the teacher, but Aizawa just told him to go to his room.
When Ryu passed by him, the lights of the room were turned out and he closed the door at her back. The corridor was already empty, except for Midoriya’s silhouette walking away at its end. She lingered there, waiting for what Aizawa had to say.
- I wonder why you didn’t tell me that your quirk were developed to this point, Ryu-san – he commented, still with his hand on the door handle – I’d rather believe that it’s because you didn’t trust us enough for that. You just arrived here, after all.
Ryu tried to justify herself.
- Aizawa-sensei, I…
When his eyes turned to her, she didn’t find the expected impatience, so that her nervousness was soothed. She sighed.
- I wasn’t expecting to show my quirk under such circumstances. It was an accident.
Aizawa nodded.
- I know. No one would like to show themselves to their new classmates through an accident.
- No.
His next words sent a shiver on her spine.
- However, this is not the first accident in which you get involved, if I’m correct.
Ryu tried to move her feet, but they wouldn’t obey her. The teacher didn’t change his manners, though.
- Don’t worry. I won’t force you to speak about it if you are not prepared for it, but let me tell you something: letting the shame stop you from seek for help won’t help you at all. I’m not sure of what’s holding you back, but long as you let it happen, more accidents will come.
He passed by the girl, going back to his own room.
- Go back to your room, now, Ryu-san. Tomorrow will be a busy day for all of us.
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homohtunut · 3 years
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How I, a person with zero experience but a lot of opinions would stage Eurovision 2021, part 1/9
So I have a lot of opinions about eurovision staging and because this year we have very few national finals there are also many acts without any kind of staged performances, so I decided I would give my own opinions on how the songs should be staged, I'll do this in 9 parts each part having 3-5 songs
Australia
So we already have a live performance of this song and I think we can work on that, because there are a lot of good elements worth keeping but also something they should get rid off
What I would keep is the cyan and pink color scheme for the lights, definitely keep the cloaks so they can throw them away in the 2nd pre-chorus (give one for montaigne too), not an expert with choreography but the one they have in that one seems fine (let the dancers do the actual work and don't make Montaigne dance too much because those high notes need to be slayed for them to work and that's very hard to do when you've danced your heart out two minutes before that)
There are two things that need to be changed though, first is the number of dancers, two are enough to fill that stage in the video but they're gonna need all the allowed five to fill the eurovision stage, I think I would maybe also add some props (for example the ones Melodifestivalen had in Missing Piece would work very well if they were in more colors)
Another thing is the outfits, the ones they have are very nice but you can't have a song called technicolor and then have WHITE clothes, I would splash some paint on those clothes and they would be enough, or take them to a paintball fight (hells, have a paintball fight onstage, why not)
One thing that I think would also be cool: I saw some promo pics where Montaigne was holding a soap bubble gun, keep that theme and bring a soap bubble machine on stage and blast it during the last chorus, this is a happy song so let's have a party on that stage
Basically I want this song to look like a bunch of five year olds were given a lot of money and zero limits on how to use them
Ireland
This one has a sorta live performance, but I think that I'll have to throw all of that away because my concept of this is hugely different, I think I've gotten the idea from the fact that this song will be directed by the one and only Benke who's best known staging is Måns' Heroes
For the colors of the lights, I'd use green and some shade of blue, and I think this song should use that kind of interactive screen that Måns Zelmerlöw and Sergey Lazarev have used, but instead of the screen being behind the artist, it should be under her on the floor
Imagine the first verse being shot from only Lesley's eye-level and when the chorus hits there's a very wide shot taken above her and the floor would have some cool animation thing going on, it would create a good effect and a very beautiful shot that would kick the chorus in with a bang, not sure what I would make that animation do but well I am not the actual director so I don't have to know
Obviously, I would let Lesley be alone in that stage, her stage presence would be enough to carry it through and the hand movements she's using in the mv and the rooftop performance are something I would take to the Eurovision stage
When it comes to outfits, I think this is the one that gets a pass to wear whatever the hell she wants, she can literally come to the stage dressed in a trashbag and I would respect her for it, what I don't want to see is some fancy dress or suit, I want it to be a bit ugly&worn out, not greatly but even a little imperfection in the outfit would work well with this song
Lithuania
God, this performance is PERFECTION, there is so little to change, the choreography is amazing, the "glitching" they do in the bridge is genius, they fill the stage so well, the camera angles are PERFECT, there's just so little to change
I'm personally not a fan of yellow but I think it works very well in their advance, not many people use it and that's why they'll be remembered better when using it, not a fan of the pink&yellow combo either, but god the color scheme is so ugly you'll love it once you've gotten over the first shock, it isn't what I would have done but now that I've seen it works, I wouldn't change it (also when they change the pink to the white&black tiles the contrast is very good, whoever staged this show is a genius)
Then comes the only effect I am kind of 50/50, the strobos, they've been timed PER-FECT-LY with the music in the post-chorus but I think accessibility in this case goes over the effects because Eurovision has such a big audience, even though they've managed to use them so beautifully in this one, (again, whoever is staging this song deserves huge respect because they've taken so much things that should not work on stage and they've managed to piece all of those things perfectly together so that they work)
Okay I will do one more but I apologize because this is one of the few songs I don't have a lot of ideas because ballads are a very hard thing for me to visualize
North Macedonia
Ballads are very hard to stage because unlike with dance songs, there can't be a lot of going on on stage so it doesn't clash with a music
I am not a huge fan of empty stages but I have an idea, otherwise very much the same thing (as they did in Proud), singing alone in the spotlight, but when the last chorus hits the background would be filled with people standing next to each other holding hands or something other very wholesome as Vasil sings the words "they all tried to break us not knowing it's what makes us" (and also maybe use the five participants you're allowed to have on stage to appear behind him singing the chour's part of the lyrics)
As for the outfits, a good ol' black suit would work very well, and when it comes to the color scheme for the lights, well, mostly it would be only the white spotlight but in the end when you add the screen you could use some yellow or blue to light up the stage (because using only black and white in your staging is a very risky move that is very hard to make work)
So that's the first half of the first semi's first half's entries (that's a mouthful) we shall see when I find time to get to the rest of the first half's entries (probably very soon because I have very clear image of what I want from Russia and Sweden)
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dollsted · 4 years
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Chains
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Chapter one: The Sting
Source: A03 --- F0rce0fnatur3
NSFW Warning: 18+
Pairing: SasuSaku | SakuIta
Plot: Sakura was just going about her daily life when her world shatters after being taken by two men who were sent to do their jobs and help fill the bank account of the third party they work for. When the job gets botched due to Sakura's intrusion her fate suddenly becomes tied in the hands of the brothers. What do they do with an extra witness? And should they tell their employer about this slip up?
I drag my fingers through my silky pale rose colored hair, green eyes fixed on the cross walk sign waiting for the light to change and the slush of people I’m mobbed into moves. I can feel the slack in my tie holding my bun up threatening to come lose, so I crane my neck so that it is straight and proper without too much motion. A few shorter layers that frame my cheeks have come free already and a bad habit of mine is to twine my hair around my finger while strangers press uncomfortably behind me crowding the corner. I’m urged forward as we move like a swarm of fish across the road to the other side. I can feel someone who’s too inappropriately pressed behind me breathing hot breath on the naked nape of my neck. I can feel him jut against me when I try to gain distance like a pair of flats that is a size too big and the extra space slaps at my heels each step. Finally I surge forward yearning for freedom and to break free from the blobby monster and break through the congestion making my way toward Macy’s.
               Everyone steals these moments by emerging from their homes after being cooped up for the hopelessly long winter. Colors finally begin to paint against the sky above the skylines and warm rays of light dips its fingers through the spines of the buildings. Spring is in the air. We all mimic the flowers that are still hidden beneath the flat and muddy colors of the city, we angle our faces to the sun which has been hidden behind a veil of gray like a face behind a paper fan. We want to soak up as much vitamin C as we can and I feel the light burn against my exposed skin. Yesterday when I passed this way the store was still in muted colors reflecting the sludge outside but today it is bursting with pink. I stare in awe at the window display. Flamingo’s the size of the entire span of the window towers on each side of the entrance to the door all adorned and anatomy made up of pink roses! If these are fake, whoever fabricated the material made it look as realistic as possible. Hanging above their crowns are real flowers that dangle in tight tangles and it renews the stores vigor. I imagine the workers tirelessly staying through all hours of the night to prepare the store for spring.
              I brush the left strand behind my ear and begin my shameless hunting. It’s been awhile since I binged for myself and after yesterday’s messy blood and stitches night at the hospital I felt I needed to wipe the memory clean with something material. I thumb through the sales rack, I look at the new lines on the outer edges of the store, I even gravitate towards the jewelry. Black pearl earrings. Ino told me once that my complexion was fair, so soft pastels of pinks and whites would best accent me. But I found emeralds didn’t contrast against the hue of my eye color, and soft yellows also seemed to flatter me. What did she know? She was always wearing crop tops that cut off just under the lines that silhouetted her breasts and shorts that clung too tightly to her ass. I assess a bright red sweater that would free my shoulders from its grip and add it to my basket. I swipe my right stray strand behind my ear and inspect a rose gold ring that appeals to my depth of symmetry. The gold is like filigree that curves gracefully in sharp patterns and arches that eventually build up to its center which dawns a black pearl that gleams a soft shade of gray when it hits the light and bleeds to deep black like the depths of a sea. A smatter of diamonds adorn random patterns like stars. Five on the left side of the pearl, three on the right. This will match my earrings.
               With a single bag slung around my arm I wander to my usual spot which has become my favorite place to frequent for coffee. I sit at the high table crossing my legs over one another arresting the fabric of my skirt to keep it from coming loose. I pull out the book from my purse and jot down little notes. What no one tells you in medical school is that although yes you are saving lives there are more bad days that outweigh the good one does. It’s getting harder and harder to find the slips of those good moments and the more gore filled ones blot out that and remain in your head like scars. I’ve woken up numerous times in a sheen of sweat and nightmares of the faces I couldn’t save laid there on the table like a cold dead slab of meat as if they’re waiting for me to stitch up the pieces of their broken body. One of my coworkers suggested I start writing down the good. It’s a sparse entry but a little girl came in with a flesh eating virus after she went into lake water with a small open wound no more the size of my pinky’s tip. The bacteria entered that small entry point and within hours she got severely sick and in no more than eight hours later her leg began to blacken. We were able to extract the bacteria and eradicate any other threats. Had she been another hour later, she would have lost her entire leg up to her calf.
              The hospital is always filled with patients. Like the cars that pack together outside like flakes of snow, so too are the halls of the hospital. I work endlessly. I’m afraid to admit that I now lean heavily on the assistance of caffeine. Like the officers that are allowed leave after a bad case to get their sanity back together, so too have I put in for two weeks’ vacation. Tsunade insisted I take more but if I don’t do something I only drown in my own thoughts and vanish into naps. She suggested I actually go on a vacation and get out of the city but it felt so odd to picture myself somewhere tropical and warm. Like residents in hotter climates who never get snow for Christmas.
              Hinata shoots me a text. I extract the phone from my jacket pocket looking at the small rectangular screen and thumb away all the notifications clogging my feed until finally I get to the message board. She wants me to meet her at her apartment. She’s not too far from where I am, it isn’t a big enough strain to have to hail a cab. With four blocks I’m there buzzing at the front gate. I ride the elevator eleven floors up and walk halfway down the hall before knocking on her door. Quietly and quickly she opens it, her face is flushed, and she has tears rimming in her eyes like diamonds against her black lashes. Her pearl white eyes plead to mine and her brows are knit together. I’m startled. She’s truly upset. Usually she smiles and pretends there’s nothing wrong but after Ino and I finally staged an intervention to get her out of her abusive relationship she had been struggling. She motions me in. Her family has money but after Hinata left our small town and migrated here with Ino and I she had opted for a small apartment in a more down trodden part of the city.
               “Sakura, I’m so glad you’re here. Something terrible has happened.” I look at her, my own brow arched in confusion and she’s moved like a ghost effortlessly into the other room. I go to follow but she’s already floated back and produces a note tightly gripped in the confines of her shaking hand. I gently pull the letter from the feed of her palm and look over the document. The note is hand typed and not signed. The content of the letter sends a shiver through my body.
               “Someone sent you a threatening letter?”
              “D-do you th-think it could be h-him?” Her whole body convulses now and her hands find one another gripping until her knuckles are as pale as the color of her pearl eyes.
               “No. Your ex is a jackass but he’s a coward at heart and wouldn’t send something like this.” I take a seat suddenly feeling a dreadful weight in my body threatening to pull me down. “It seems to me the person whose contacting you wants a piece of your fortune.”
               “Should I tell father? Oh…he’ll be cross. He’ll want to send the police force and private investigators.” Her voice is a feather against the drumming in my ears. She hasn’t been able to look at me since she retrieved the letter. Gingerly I put my hand against her quaking shoulder offering warmth and softening my voice.
               “Hinata, I think you should let your father know about this. It could become serious…”
               “No one even knows I’m out here…who…who could…?”
              “It’s easy for a woman to be stalked. I hate to admit this to you too and scare you even more but if one wanted to type in your full name the internet isn’t shy about revealing articles about your fathers charity work and that you and your sister are heiresses.”
               I watched her shrink into herself. I looked back to the letter.
               “I don’t want my family to get hurt.”
               “All the more reason to warn them that you and them may be targeted.”
              I spent the rest of my visit cooing soft words of encouragement and making her several pots of herbal tea to calm her jittery nerves. When I suggested she speak to detective Naruto about all this she was all too eager to change the subject or dismiss it. I loved Hinata as the dear friend she was to me but, sometimes it was like speaking to a child who was afraid of her own shadow. Children could be difficult and stubborn and no matter what I pitched to her she shot down. Finally I had to threaten to tell my own sources about the letter and that seemed to sap any of her protests. She didn’t want me to get involved and made a promise that first thing in the morning before work she would go to the authorities with her proof and ask for help. It was enough to sate me. The letter gave her a two weeks’ notice to produce the money or transfer it to a secure private fund so I felt a little at ease that perhaps they wouldn’t come to collect her in exchange for that promise.
              I lay awake all night feeling guilty about Hinata. It became too hard to leave her alone and when I shot her a text to come back to my place for the time being she politely declined still feigning that she didn’t want me to get hurt in any of this exchange so I fled my apartment taking a cab as if precious moments were slipping from my fingers. Her building was alight and it helped douse a little of my fears but when I reached her front door it was then I noticed there was a splinter in the wood at the hinge. My heart was in my throat as my fingers lightly touched upon the wood of the door and it yawned open. Her apartment was dark and I could hear muffled talking. Maybe Hinata was retiring for the night and speaking to her father but then why would her door be affected by such a thing?
               I dared two steps into her room when the creak in the floor threatened to tattle on me if I moved further. I craned my neck trying to peer around the corner to the kitchen. The only light was the clock on her microwave and stove. I inched against the frame of the wall getting closer to the rush of voices. Now I heard the distinction of a male. I strained for a minute to hear Hinata’s reply but nothing came. A shadow moved across the wall in the living room. I went to strain my eyes to look into the stretch of darkness but felt a large hand press my locked lips against my teeth restraining my cries and screams of help. There was a wall of muscle at my back. My arms were pinned at my sides as the other arm snaked around me. My only free limbs were my legs which were easily lead in a dragging motion as the assailant directed us by holding my weight up and guiding us into the bedroom. My eyes widened. Hinata was slung over the shoulder of another male that seemed only a figment in the room. I could hear the venom in the elder male’s words as he hissed to the one man handling me.
                “Who the fuck is that?”
              “Don’t know. She was lurking at the door. What should we do?” I felt the pinprick of fear radiate up my spine and I began fighting. With little avail he easily coiled his arm flexing his muscles tighter against me. It was hard to take in air. I could see black blotting the corners of my vision.
               “She’s seen too much. Get rid of her.”
              “This might be the one she was texting.” I felt his hand move from my mouth and I took a sharp breath of air into my lungs but felt the scream vanish inside my throat when the clicking sound and cold round press of steel touched under my jaw. It came out as a startled gasp.
              “Don’t you even fucking dare.” My entire body began shaking. His voice was as deep and vicious as the steel under my chin. His arm uncoiled, he transferred the gun to his other hand and the free one plunged into my pockets. I let out a small yelp of surprise trying to shrink myself to get away from his invasive hands but moments later he plucked my phone from my back pocket. I glared blindly at him in the dark and shut my eyes when the shock of the bright screen flashed over my retinas. I blinked back burning tears watching him thumb through the phone then stopped.
               “That the one?” The other male ground out through tightly gritted teeth.
              “Yep.” Said my assailant with a careless sigh. He slipped the phone somewhere behind me in one of his pockets and then he resumed the hold he had before. The guns position changed to my temple.
              “Your call.” The casual exchange made me think these two criminals knew one another on a personal level. Maybe even related? I couldn’t think about that right now. Right now I needed to pine for my survival. I spent my years trying to save lives and to think of becoming just a stain within my legacy and a good front page article that would be looked over by tomorrow’s new stories made my stomach churn.
              “I know you two were the ones that sent the letter. I---I’ve already contacted the police about it.” There was a long stretch of silence that curdled the bile in my stomach even more painfully sour. The elder spoke.
               “We’re wasting time here. Bag her too. We’ll figure it out once we’re in the clear.” The one behind me didn’t respond. He only moved awkwardly behind me slipping one sleeve of a jacket to him and forcing the other sleeve to my arm. His free hand was hidden between the shared garment and the barrel was now tightly pressed at my back. I swallowed a wet gulp feeling the block roughly glide down my throat.
               “Here’s the deal. You scream. You say anything. I shoot you first. Then I shoot all the people you call out too. I don’t care if it’s a kid either. Got me?” I gave a curt nod. “Say it!”
               “Yes I understand!” I held the front of my sweater with my free hand trying to steady my nerves.
              Given the time of night there was no body that inhabited the entry ways or hallways. The elder had moved Hinata so it looked as though with her arm slung around the back of his neck and him holding her by her waist he looked like a gallant gentleman escorting his drunk girlfriend into a cab. But in the cabs stead was a black Lincoln. She was put in the trunk however…and I was forced to duck into the cabin of the back row of seats that faced one another. The elder took to the wheel. The black divider hid him completely and I was face to face with my captor who freed himself from the jacket. I was too terrified to shrug the rest of it off me. We were moving and I looked to the tinted windows walled around me. I felt small. I felt hopeless. My life was out of my hands. I knew in this moment how my patients felt…
              The younger captor was tall, not as tall as the other one but still larger than my short stature. He had long elegant legs that were cloaked in black jeans with faint tan stitching at the seams. He had heavy steel toed boots that somehow he controlled to keep his footfalls as silent as a cats. I saw the gray outlines in his shirt that made up the peaks and mountains of his midsection to his chest. His biceps were bulging from the clad shirts tight hold. The same arms that almost crushed me in two like a toothpick. He slung his forearm on the back of his seat showing the deadly muscle beneath his flesh. I looked away before his eyes could catch hold of mine. Charcoal black and bottomless like a shark’s. He had a long aristocratic nose and his lips were thin but were perfectly shaped so if he smirked they tips of them would be like little arrows that would point to his long cheekbones. His hair was a mop of thick locks and like babies he was cursed with terrible cowlicks that swirled and curved upwards but yet---it made him look distinguished and just fit to his angelic appearance. I crushed my thoughts digging bloody moons into my palms.
               Why had he put Hinata in the trunk? It wasn’t like he couldn’t overpower us if she awoke. Perhaps he didn’t want us speaking to each other. I felt my body temperature rise, the arm that was buried in the jacket suddenly burning setting wildfire throughout my other limbs. I shirked it off pulling my feet to the wide expanse of the seat tucking my knees to my chest. He was busying himself with my phone going through it and erasing the contents. I just wanted to sleep. My eyes burned with need but my body was wide awake. All my nerves were firing away with adrenaline. But as the hours went by and my mindless gaze watched the landscape scrape by in blurs I was fading. I hadn’t noticed when I stopped holding my head up and came to attention when my forehead was pressed against the cold glass. I jerked awake but couldn’t fight sleep any longer. Maybe I should just take a minuscule one---it might be my last chance for sleep. My thoughts grew heavier and became scrambled and finally I gave in to the darkness.
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Just This Once 2
Word Count: ~7048 Part: 2/? Summary: Taichi gets invited along on a free vacation with the Izumi family to a quaint little cabin where there promises to be great food, plenty of activity, and sun in the forecast. The catch? The whole family thinks he’s dating Koushirou.
Taichi wishes it were true
Read First Chapter Here
Read on in Full on Ao3 or Below to Continue
Years of conditioning for soccer has rendered the act of sleeping-in a useless feat for Taichi. That, and the aroma of coffee slowly permeating into the room beckons him to find the source and consume, at minimum, fifty cups to get through the day. 
It must be a little before seven when he finally wrestles off the strip of the blanket he had thrown over his stomach at some point in the night, rolling off his side of the bed as silently as he can muster. His phone confirms his suspicions, the little analogue clock rearranging the numbers into the new hour. A small sense of pride wells in Taichi’s chest to know he had been right. 
He fishes through his duffel bag for the first pair of sweatpants, slipping them up and over his thighs swiftly. He spares a glance back over his shoulder, to make sure he hasn’t yet disturbed his roommate—No, wait, his boyfriend— and lets out a relieved sigh when Koushirou seems no less awake.
He grimaces a moment later when the bedroom door squeaks upon opening, and practically howls when he pulls it back towards himself on the other side, trying his best to be careful. He considers letting the door sit where it is, so as not to test fate by sealing it closed, but Taichi frowns. He can already hear cluttering down the hallway, where he remembers passing through the kitchen last night. Of course Koushirou would hear any bits of conversation or clattering of items with the door opened and so he makes sure to listen for the dead bolt to click into place, keeping the one barrier between Koushirou and sleep fastened tightly. 
Without the resistance of their bedroom door, the scent of coffee is far more pervasive. Taichi takes a deep, indulgent breath in where he stands and it is enough to feel just that little more awake. He hums in anticipation, following the fragrance all the way down the hallway and into the kitchen where the coffee pot greets him with the chatter of promise. 
Someone has hoisted themselves onto the counter adjacent, kneeling just in front of an army of mugs placed beside them. Taichi just about offers his services when they bounce back to the hardwood floors and he recognizes Koushirou’s mother, smiling as she notices him.
“Did you sleep well?” Kae wonders, her demeanor disarmingly cheerful for the time of morning. She closes the cabinet door she had just been rummaging through, another coffee cup in her hands.
Taichi only hums. It’s simpler than telling her, “Your son is too pretty for my health and I spent the whole night contemplating my life’s choices, thanks.” 
Behind her the coffee machine sputters and hisses, reminding him of why he had come here in the first place.
“Would you like some?” she asks. Taichi counts the cups already sitting out and surmises there must be enough for almost every member of the family. Kae places the mug she had hazarded out of the cabinet onto the counter among it’s kin. It proudly exclaims, “You’re Stressing Meowt,” around a little silhouette of a cartoon cat. 
Taichi smiles at the image before he remembers to say, “Yes, please!”
“It’s only going to be black for now,” she warns him, checking on the machine. It looks more than halfway to the full line point and so Taichi waits on the edge of the kitchen, teetering from one foot to the next, not sure if he should retire himself to the living room and stay out of her hair. 
But Kae smiles back at him and asks, “How was your drive in last night? Masami says you boys got in pretty late.” 
“It was pretty late,” Taichi reasserts. His fingers catch an edge of the countertop where the stiff, wallpaper-like overlay hasn’t been properly cut away, running his hand back and forth along it, watching as it springs back to the center after every pull or push. He remembers when his family had similar counters back home, a sickly yellow that always clashed with the faded blue backsplash up until the apartment complex renovated all the units with marble slabs instead. Taichi kind of likes how it looks in the cabin— rustic, comes to mind again as he flicks at the paper. It’s a nice light green, blending kindly into the accent wallpaper between the counter and the walls, where odd little cows graze on a grassy pasture with blue skies and puffy white clouds. He remembers to add in, “The drive was fine,” when she tilts her head, still waiting on the answer. 
“Good to hear,” she says, still smiling brightly. The kitchen falls silent. Kae perks up at the lack of noise, and turns her focus back on the now full carafe and takes it from the hot plate. Little bits of liquid pass through the top and sizzle on the burner in its absence. She pours the dark liquid into each of the cups on the counter, humming a tune Taichi can’t quite place. Over her back sun leaks in through the kitchen window, sifting through her hair as she dips back and forth over her work, making the edges of every strand appear more blonde than he knows them to be. 
Kae hands him the cat mug he had been admiring earlier. Taichi accepts it with the highest level of gratitude he can muster. He doesn’t have the patience, or state of mind, to wait, already tipping back his first sip. It burns the tip of his tongue and tastes awful without the sweetness of sugar to chase out the bitter notes, but Taichi already feels the effects. It’s a shame coffee always smells better than it tastes. 
“Would you—” Kae starts, then pauses, her fingers already around a second cup. Taichi beckons her to continue. “Would you mind taking this to my sister-in-law?” she holds up the mug briefly before settling it back on the counter. “I was going to bring Masami’s to him in bed,” she says, a sweet, rosey color tinting her cheeks as she admits it. “But Keiko’s waiting for it on the front deck and I—”
“No worries,” Taichi pushes through quickly, taking the mug off the counter. His heart sings at the prospect of being useful, even for such a small task. It isn’t quite a new feeling, but he wonders if it’s in no small part a vague desire for redempedation, for the trickery he has and will play on them in the coming week. The thought settles thick and hot in his stomach, like a full pot of coffee. He swallows. “I was going to take mine out there, too,” he tells her, sheepishly. 
Kae beams at him. It could rival the sun, he thinks. 
Keiko is as boisterous as Taichi had gathered from Koushirou’s briefing of the events yesterday. She calls him over with an enthusiastic waving motion over the brim of her wide sun hat and a bright, “Taichi!” before the screen door can even shut. 
He drops the ceramic cup onto the glass countertop in front of her, frightened for only a moment that he might have cracked something. She simply smiles up at him. Dark black hair curls around her ears from beneath her hat, and even in the shade of it Tacihi can tell she’s as pale as the rest of the Izumi’s he’s been familiar with. Though her eyes are covered in thick, dark sunglasses, Taichi can feel the bright intensity of her gaze on him. 
It’s much cooler out here, than in the city, but it is still so damn muggy. Taichi considers taking his coffee out to the dock where he can dip his feet into the lake. He hadn’t noticed it at all last night, in the dark, but under the sun the polished wood is bright, the structure swaying peacefully over the quiet ripples of the lake stirred only by a slight breeze. 
As if sensing his defection, Keiko pats the cushion beside her and urges Taichi to, “Take a seat!” And as if it will help anything she adds, “I don’t bite!” 
Which is always so very welcoming.
Taichi casts a forlorn glance at the lake, already missing the feel of the water around his skin, and takes the proffered seat instead. 
“I’m Keiko,” she says. “Koushirou’s aunt.” Taichi doesn’t know how to answer, since she already seems to know his name, but he offers it up anyway. “Of course you are,” she says, lightly touching a hand to his shoulder. He suspects she’s been out here for a while now, yet her fingers are still cool where they graze his skin. “I’m so glad I’m finally meeting you,” she gushes. 
She says it in a way that sounds like it’s been months, or years, and not just a little over a week since Koushirou started the ruse. Before Taichi became a part of it. He keeps his mouth pressed together, almost afraid that any syllable left uncheck might be a giveaway, that he could possibly be speaking every thought aloud. In contrast her smile is long and exuberant, colored brightly in a shade of red that reminds Taichi of Koushirou’s hair and he wishes he were up and out here with him, if for nothing more than in camaraderie of their shared secret. 
Taichi downs a longer sip of coffee. It’s a mistake, the liquid far too hot for consumption still that it burns his throat all the down. Keiko takes her own mug from the table and blows across the top of it for a moment, before gracefully taking her own sip. If it is still too hot, she shows no signs. Taichi frowns at his lap. 
“Is Koushirou still asleep?” she wonders. This time she does not look directly at him, her face down into her own cup. She seems, somehow, small and it feels uncharacteristic in the short time he has known her. Taichi just nods. “What time did you boys make it in last night?” 
“Late,” Taichi offers at first. He takes another gulp of coffee and specifies, “Sometime after one, I think?” He’s glad she must not have heard the door slamming last night, when they’d first come in.
She frowns at him. “What time did you leave yesterday?” 
They’re very innocent questions, Taichi reminds himself, but more than one feels like an interrogation. His eyes focus on the lake. There’s an unopened umbrella sitting in a hole in the center of the table, obscuring part of the view. He almost thinks to open it, but somehow feels like it will be an admission of guilt. Which is just ridiculous. 
He should have stayed in bed. Taichi’s heart prickles, wondering if Koushirou would have greeted him with a tired, little smile, and contemplates if it would be weird to just go back now, and take a nap. 
Instead he answers, “After dinner. But they, uh, shutdown two lanes of traffic for a huge accident.” 
“No!” Keiko gasps. Taichi stiffens for a moment— this is it —but Keiko just watches him, her mouth partially slack open in horror as she asks, “Neither of you were hurt, right?”
Oh. His leg bounces just under the table. “No, we, uh, just hit the backend of the traffic. So everything was down to one lane for miles.”
“Koushirou must have loved that,” she huffs out a laugh. “I bet he just typed away every hour of it.” 
“He drove the whole time,” Taichi tells her. 
Keiko stares at him from behind her shades. He thinks he can see her eyes, blinking at him, stricken by this information. Just as quickly she recovers, leaning against the table with another long smile, a single finger lifted over it as if she’s whispering something conspiratorial to him. “Koushirou must really love you,” is not what he expects.
“I don’t—” he tries, not really sure what the proper response should be in this scenario. Is it, “Thank you”? A, “I don’t know”? Does he say, “I really love him, too”? He can barely think with his heart pounding aggressively in his chest, all the blood in his body pooling to his head but none of it actually coming to the aid of his brain.
“Oh, Taichi,” Keiko coos, her lips curling upward even more. She presses the red of them together and tells him, “You look like a cooked lobster!” 
He’s ready to scream like one, too.
The screen door opens just about then, Kae ducking out from behind it. She looks at them both questiongly for a moment, before she tells them, “I’m heading off to the store. Does anyone want anything?”
“Breakfast!” Keiko shouts, standing up from the table immediately. “Let me get you some money.” 
“That won’t be necessary,” Kae starts as her sister-in-law passes by her to get back inside. She sends Taichi a fond, exasperated smile. He knows now where Koushirou picked up the habit from. Her expression fades to a more concerned one as she takes in what Taichi presumes to be his still red face. “Are you getting burnt already? If you need sunblock there’s some in the little basket by the couch, okay?”
“I’m fine,” he manages. His heart doesn’t seem to take the cue and settle down, but on the bright side the breeze that passes over them feels much cooler than it had before. 
He leans forward into his hand and stares down the lake. Koushirou loves you, is something he has only ever dreamed of hearing someone else say. It feels surreal, even when he reminds himself that it is, in fact, not real. 
“Bring back something you think everyone will want,” he hears Keiko instructing Kae a moment later. He looks over to see the darker haired woman shoving a wad of bills into Kae’s purse, smiling proudly. “Should be enough for some groceries, too!”
“It’s no problem—”
“It’s my treat,” Keiko insists, coming back to sit beside Taichi on the deck. 
“How about you, Taichi?” Kae asks. A moment later she clarifies, “Is there anything you want me to pick up for you?”
“Oh, uhm,” Taichi starts. Grocery shopping isn’t exactly high on his activity list, but he does need something to eat later, and so he asks, “Can I actually come with you?”
Kae looks taken aback. He wonders if no one usually offers. “Are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here.”
“Nah it’s fine,” he insists standing up. “I can help load the car, too.” He offers up his best attempt at a grin and watches as Kae’s shoulder’s droop, her smile back at him grateful. “Just let me get dressed.”
“I’ll start the car!”
Koushirou is still fast asleep when Taichi opens the door to their shared living quarters. He breathes in slowly, almost fearful that any quick gasps of air might disturb him into waking. This time Taichi keeps the door just ever slightly ajar so he won’t have to shut it more than once and digs through his things. With more light to aid him, it’s easier to find a more presentable shirt and jeans.
He’s reaching for his wallet off the nightstand where he had left it, when he notices the pair of dark eyes quistively watching him. “Morning,” he whispers, leaning over the comforter and resting his head on his crossed arms. “Did I wake you?” he wonders, but Koushirou merely shakes his head. 
He does, in fact, send Taichi a small, still sleepy smile, his eyes barely able to keep open. Instead of words all Taichi receives is a grunt, which he chooses to read as a Good Morning back.  
“I’m going to the store with your mother,” Taichi informs him. Koushirou blinks. He wonders if it’s a form of morse code that he was supposed to learn before coming here. “Did you want to come?” 
Koushirou groans.
Taichi smiles into his elbow, poking Koushirou on the cheek with his other hand. “Is that a no?”
Koushirou huffs back at him, throwing the duvet over his face. 
“Okay,” he laughs. “Did you want me to pick you up anything?”
This time he gets no response and Taichi pats the only tuft of red still poking out from beneath the covers. “Have a good nap,” he tells Koushirou. He makes sure to actually grab his wallet this time and place it in his back pocket before heading out to meet with Kae. 
It is only after Kae pulls out of the driveway that Taichi realizes his mistake. 
In all the years of his friendship with Koushirou there have of course been pockets of time when Taichi has been alone with his mother. With a movie playing in the background; at a dinner table; waiting for everyone else outside of the bathroom at the movies, or the zoo, or museums. Places where there was something to talk about, or activities to pass the time. 
Back then, he’d simply been Koushirou’s best friend. But now, he was supposed to be his boyfriend. He hadn’t given any thought to how heavy that title would feel until it was sitting between them. 
For miles there is nothing but dirt and trees. Taichi watches them silently, trying to memorize any specific characteristics in case he has to roll out of the car and escape. 
“You’re awfully quiet,” Kae comments on a short laugh. It might be his imagination, but maybe she’s just as nervous as he is. 
Taichi takes a deep breath in but nothing telling really comes to mind so he simply says, “Yeah,” as they pull out onto a main road. He assumes there’s nothing on the radio, and he’s too afraid to ask if she has any tapes or CDs. 
He touches his forehead to the cool glass of the passenger seat. Down the road a family of balloons wave at him, several blue and one gold, ruffled by the wind generated by the cars speeding past it. Each of them are anchored to the earth by one of those signs Taichi associates with wet floors. He squints as they come up on it, a vibrantly printed sign pasted on the front. Fun! Rides! Prizes!, it promises him with a prominent display of a ferris wheel set in the background. A carnival, he assumes, as their own car whizzes by too fast to read the whole thing. 
“I’m glad you could make it on such short notice,” Kae continues after another round of silence. 
“I don’t really have anything to do until school starts back up. But, uh, thank you for letting me come,” he mentions, feeling his cheeks heating up. His mother would be disappointed he waited so long to say it, but Taichi’s always had trouble with timing. “And for being, uh,” he thinks about the shared room, of Koushirou’s sleeping face under the moonlight and feels his cheeks heat up as he decides on the word, “Open. About everything.”
“Oh,” is all Kae says for a while, puckering her lips. “That’s—you don’t have to...” She makes a soft noise in the back of her throat, but anything she means to add to the conversation seems to trail off there. 
Taichi doesn’t recognize any of the names on the store fronts when they pull up to a small-scale mall. He suspects the main grocers are probably a local chain judging by the signage and coupons laying in the outside crates. He grabs one out of curiosity on their way in, skimming down through the non-perishable section. There’s a sale on cereal, he notes wryly. He had half expected their outing to be at some farmer’s market, but he’s both disappointed and grateful it’s not the case. 
Kae wipes down the handle of a cart, pulling it away from the rest with a quick tug. She finishes wiping off her own hands before throwing the soiled towelette away in the nearby receptacle and smiling at him. “I’m going to grab the dry items first,” she explains, pointing towards the far end of the store. “You’re welcome to look around on your own,” she offers. “It’s a small store so we shouldn’t get too lost.”
“Oh,” Taichi says. “Sure.”
Kae beams at him. 
He hates to think of it as relief, the moment Kae disappears down one of the far aisles, but it can’t be anything else. It feels nice to be relatively alone for a moment. 
Taichi takes his own hand basket and peruses the aisles leiserously. He’s used to the stores in the city, where it’s generally ten people to a cramped aisle on weekdays, but here it feels like he could wander the whole store and only ever see two other people. It’s nice. He takes his time in the easily prepared meal section, pulling out a few microwave meals and sprinkles some junk food into the cart as well. In the drink aisle he grabs a few options of almost fluorescent colored sports drinks and pauses for a moment where he’s crouched. 
Just to the left of his fingers is the shelf stable tea drinks. Taichi considers them for a moment, and then grabs several of the tall bottles of Oolong. They’re heavy, weighing down his basket and almost knocking him over onto the hard tiled floor as he tries to stand back up straight. 
He only runs into Kae when he’s waiting behind the only other person in the store, at the only open register. She pulls up right behind him with her shopping cart brimming with groceries. 
“Find everything okay?” She asks brightly, placing a few of the items right behind his on the conveyor belt. 
“Yep,” he answers, placing one of the dividers between their items and then helping her with the rest of her stuff. Taichi has never seen this many groceries before in his life. She must have taken half the store’s stock of eggs alone. He’s glad he decided to come and help. 
By the time the person in front of them has finished up both his purchases and friendly chat with the clerk, they’ve already unloaded the entire cart. Taichi tries not to look surprised that they all fit, even with his own still up there. Kae slides past him elegantly, standing in front of the cashier and Taichi feels his shoulders stiffen. He doesn’t know how to remind her that he’s next. She doesn’t seem to notice either when the clerk starts scanning all the items he’d grabbed, just smiling and making polite conversation about how lovely the day has been, how bright the sun is. 
As the clerk notices the divider at the end of his personal items, Taichi takes a step closer to pay, but Kae waves at her and says, “Sorry, we’re together.”
Taichi stares as she starts handing him back the already filled bags of his groceries, telling him to put them in the cart. “I—” he starts when Kae moves to give him another bag. “I have money,” he mentions, sheepishly. He taps the wallet in his back pocket, ready to relinquish a couple of dollars on her just as Keiko had done, but Kae snorts at his words like he has told a rather well-timed joke. 
“Nonsense,” she tells him. “You’re our guest this week.” When she grabs for the last of his now bagged items, she gently pulls out one of the bottles of Oolong, staring at the label quizzically. “I didn’t know you liked this drink.” 
“Can’t stand it,” he admits. Just the thought of it coats his tongue with an unpleasant memory. Kae looks taken aback for a moment before her face brightens with a grin and she hands him off the bag. 
“He’ll be happy,” she tells him quietly.
Taichi watches the numbers on the register go higher and higher, like it’s competing to match his pulse. The clerk smiles pleasantly at him when their eyes meet by accident and she asks him about his day. All he can manage is, “Fine,” and feels like that’s a lie. He hates to think it’s becoming a habit now. 
“You’re so helpful, Taichi,” Kae gushes as they finish loading up the car. He can’t read a single flippant motive in her expression as they slip into their respective seats.
“Can I get that in writing?” he jokes. He slips on the buckle of his seat belt and to her questioning gaze answers, “My mom wouldn’t believe it from anyone but you. She’s always raving about the way you raised Koushirou. Since he’s so polite.”
Kae colors a little under the praise, but the corners of her lips seem unable to settle. Instead she places a hand on the back of his seat and watches the back window over her arm as she pulls out of the parking spot. On habit, Taichi turns and looks along with her. 
Even though there’s no other cars on the road in either direction, Kae hesitates for a while at the end of the parking lot. The only bit of her expression Taichi can read with her sunglasses flipped back down over her eyes is the puckering of her lips, the white of her knuckles as she holds the steering wheel unnecessarily tight. 
“Do—” she hesitates longer. Taichi waits. “Do your parents—know? About you and Koushirou?”
Taichi whips his gaze forward at that, the same stiffness returning to his shoulders. Kae turns out of the parking lot and back down the road they had been on probably about an hour ago. 
“No,” he finally manages. His knee bounces on the carpeted floor, his eyes darting towards his side of the road. It’s barely a different view than before. 
“Oh,” she says back. Kae lets out a long breath— an almost contented sounding sigh. Then a moment later she seems to startle and wonders quickly, “Would they be— your parents wouldn’t—?”
“Oh, no!” Taichi realizes, waving his hands as if to dispel the very thought. “My parents are fine, I just, uh. We thought—” he breathes in, trying to remember what Koushirou had said to him yesterday and explains, “Koushirou and I thought it would be better to wait, before telling anyone. In case it didn’t work out, you know. It's, uh, a big change."
He doesn’t tell her it’s not meant to work. Taichi looks up to the bright blue of the sky and lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto, his head thumping back against the seat. All at once it feels like a day's worth of fatigue has been dropped on him.
“But they know I,” he swallows. It feels weird coming out to someone else’s parent, even if they are his supposed boyfriend’s. “That I also like guys.” 
Kae thumps a hand over her heart and lets out a very winded, “Oh, good,” as she relaxes further back into her own seat. Taichi watches her curiously. Kae catches his gaze and smiles back at him sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” she says, sparring him another quick glance before watching the road again. 
"Koushirou said the same thing, but you know how he can be… I thought it was to spare our feelings, that maybe he didn't feel comfortable with us ," she wrings her hands on the steering wheel again. "Then I wondered if perhaps it was your family situation and I just wanted you to know, you're always welcome in our family." 
She smiles at him quickly, something apologetic and welcoming. "I'm sorry," she repeats, softer, "that we made you two share it with us before you were ready." 
Taichi looks down at his hands. “It’s alright.” 
“I am glad it was you,” Kae admits to him. Her smile is only sweet now, lacking in anything facetious, when she turns it on him briefly. “You’ve always been like family,” she adds in. The admission makes his heart sing, his head dizzy as the words spin around it. “And Koushirou always seems much happier with you around, Taichi. You’re a good influence.”
“Now that I will definitely need in writing.”
Kae laughs. 
They stop at a small diner somewhere near their turn back to the cabin. Kae orders several helpings of pancakes and grits and eggs to take back and Taichi’s stomach growls in anticipation. She takes the bag of food with her as soon as she turns off the engine, right back in her parking spot at the cabin. Taichi meets her around the back of the trunk, the whole thing lifting at once with a click of a button. 
Taichi's arms are already sagging with the weight of one too many bags when a new face pokes around the edge of the car and offers, "Can I help?" 
"Oh," Kae startles, pulling a few bags of her own out the trunk, "that would be very sweet of you, Kousuke!" 
“You must be Taichi,” Kousuke says, staring up at him consideringly. After a moment he decides, "You're not what I was expecting." 
"Sorry," is all Taichi can muster under the other's gaze. Kousuke's blue eyes remind him of Yamato's, deep and scrutinizing. A breeze passes between them, disturbing the shadows across the ground from the trees above their head. The plastic handles slip along his fingers, digging in and burning his skin.
"Don't be," Kousuke finally says, stepping around Taichi and accepting a few bags from Kae. He doesn't expand on either comment, heading back to the cabin with nothing more than an acknowledging nod back in Taichi's direction.
Great start. 
Taichi traces the same path back to the cabin, eyes watching the dirt and pebbles as he walks. All he needs now is to trip and faceplant. He makes it to the stairs where Keiko greets him, all wide smiles. 
"You can leave them right here," she tells Taichi, pointing to the top step. As he places the first one down, Keiko takes it up, humming on her way back into the kitchen. Taichi deposits the rest of his load, then turns back to check if there’s more. 
Behind him, Taichi hears a set of footsteps quicken to meet up with him. Masami taps him with the full weight of his palm onto Taichi's shoulder saying, "You boys sure got in late last night." 
He knows Koushirou's father well enough to read his words at face value and not the deadpan delivery of his tone, but Taichi still feels his stomach twist, his nerves walking on a tightrope over a volcano. 
"Yeah," he agrees. "Sorry you had to wait up for us," he adds.
Masami hums, falling easily into step beside Taichi. "Wanted to make sure someone was up. In case you boys hit some trouble." 
Taichi doesn't really know what to say to that so he settles on a simple, "Yeah." 
Like a goddess of mercy, Kae passes them not a moment later. "You should be able to finish between you two," she relays, dropping the keys into her husband's hand. "I'll see you inside!" 
She is right. Taichi's second load is considerably less, and with Masami they're able to clear out the entire trunk. Taichi drops his own bags to the dirt to help close the door as Masami locks it up.
Their walk back is silent. Masami takes the stairs first and heads directly into the kitchen. Taichi hesitates on the stoop. 
It is odd, he decides. Taichi's never really felt uncomfortable around Koushirou's parents before. During soccer season Masami even humors him, keeping the sport's channel on in the mornings whenever Taichi spends the night, pretending he cares enough to know the player’s by name and number even when he can never seem to remember their positions.
Nothing has changed. Not really . He doesn't think either of them have changed in any case, but it just feels different. 
Or maybe, it should be different. He doesn't really know.
"Is this the last of it?"
Taichi looks up. Koushirou stares back down at him from the top of the stairs, curiously, reaching out a hand to offer his assistance. Wind ruffles his hair lovingly, sun brushing gently through his fiery locks. Thoughtlessly, Taichi transfers over several of the bags. His skin feels warm beneath Taichi's palm for the briefest of moments. The shirt he’s slipped on is dark, a lovely compliment to his skin. Taichi wonders if he’ll get any color this week, other than sunburned. Unlikely, he knows. 
"Morning sleepyhead," he manages in jest, hopping over the last step to follow Koushirou inside. He levels Taichi with a quick glare over his shoulder. 
Behind them the screen door snaps back shut, but no one else in the kitchen pays it any mind. Kae and Masami are filling the shelves easily between the two of them, skirting around each other as if it were a practiced dance. 
Koushirou drops the bags he'd taken from Taichi onto the counter, some of the items spilling out along the surface. Taichi follows suit, pulling a full bag of onions out and frowns. He looks around the kitchen, but there’s no indication of where the produce should go and there’s not enough room with the four of them to start opening every cabinet in the hopes he’ll find a clear sign. 
Koushirou bumps against his side momentarily. Taichi freezes, even though he feels warm, right against him. "You've helped enough," he tells Taichi, his voice low and airy. "Procure some breakfast before my cousin comes back and devours it." 
It's an out, he supposes. Taichi smiles graciously and takes it. 
Taichi takes his plate back outside to the deck table where the only evidence of other people is the constant clattering of cabinet doors and small echoes of chatter let out through the screen window to his back. He cuts off a piece of one of his pancakes with the flat edge of his fork and even though it’s completely saturated in syrup, he still runs it through one of the amber puddles on his plate. Pancakes are, afterall, just a vessel for syrup.
Even as the sun ascends above him, beating down directly atop the crown of Taichi’s head, it is unarguably cooler out here than within the city limits of Odaiba.Taichi doesn't mind this type of heat, when a trickle of a breeze rolls through, the crisp scent of the outdoors and lake water riding past. He can breathe a little more easily here. 
The coffee he had abandoned before his trek out to the store with Kae sits still in front of him. Taichi contemplates going back inside for milk or sugar, or to even pour the whole thing out for a fresh cup, but he decides better on it and takes a large gulp of the dark liquid. Even under the bearance of the sun, it has somehow cooled down, a decent enough temperature on his already scalded tongue. 
"Let me get that for you, mom." Taichi thinks the voice sounds like Koushirou's aunt. His guess is proven correct when he can see Keiko's bright pink hat through the dark screen of the door, her back holding it open. 
"Oh, don't fuss," another woman says. Despite her words, she sounds in no way as if she is scolding Keiko. Taichi recognizes Koushirou's grandmother, from a few dinners at the Izumi's household. He still remembers when she had first come over, telling Taichi he could call her, "Grandma," as well, if he was going to be part of the family’s festivities. 
He wonders blithely if the invitation is open to ersatz boyfriends.
"Do you mind if mom joins you?" Keiko asks Taichi, sweetly, already dropping the other woman's plate onto the table across from him. 
Taichi can't say no, so he settles on a rigid, "Sure." 
"Good morning, Taichi," Grandma greets him, taking the already designated seat. Her head barely obscures the view behind her. Taichi remembers when Koushirou had once been shorter than her and hides his snort of laughter between a healthy bite of eggs. 
"Isn't it pretty?" Grandma asks him, positioning herself in the chair to look back towards the lake. Wind plays with the curls of her pepper gray hair, a long, pleased smile crossing her lips. 
"Sure is," Taichi breathes. She is, surprisingly, a calm presence, but Taichi still feels the prickle of nerves tip toeing across his shoulders. He hadn't considered the possibility of lying to Grandma. 
The door slams shut again.
"Where are you going, Kousuke?" Grandma asks, frowning. 
"For a swim," he tells her. Taichi wonders if he's struggling to not tack on a duh , as he motions to his bathing suit with the hefty beach towel draped over his shoulders.
Grandma purses her lips. "You'll get a cramp if you swim after eating." 
"I'll be careful," he promises, already racing down the steps for the beach. 
The temperature seems to rise for a moment, as if goading Taichi to take a swim himself. It sounds inviting right now. He cuts off the last piece of his pancake and runs it through the sticky, dried syrup clinging to his plate still. 
"It's a common myth," a more familiar voice pipes up. Taichi smiles at Koushirou as he wrestles his own way out the door, both of his hands filled. He squeezes between the wall and Taichi’s chair, placing his own plate on the table and one of the large bottles of Oolong tea. “Statistically it’s improbable he’ll drown on just a full stomach alone.”
“Oh,” Grandma starts, perking up as Koushirou drops into the seat beside Taichi, “are you joining us?” 
Koushirou looks caught at the suggestion, his fingers hesitating where he was uncapping the bottle of his drink. “Taichi is my guest,” he answers simply, before wrestling the cap off and taking a long sip. 
Grandma settles him with a long, pointed stare before returning her attention back to the lake, where Kousuke has already divested himself of his sandals and towel on the small strip of sand. 
Koushirou plops part of his egg atop one of the already cut pieces of pancake. “It all digests the same way,” he attests without even looking back at Taichi, taking another egregiously prepared bite. 
“But it doesn’t all taste the same going down,” Taichi argues even knowing it’s a waste of breath. Instead he takes his own fork and cuts off a portion of Koushirou’s still intact pancake, sliding it along the syrup on his own plate and popping it into his mouth. 
Koushirou levels him with a second half-hearted glare for the day, even as he takes another sip of his drink. When he caps it back on the table, he tells Taichi, “Mom says you acquired these on my behalf.” 
“Yeah,” he says intelligently. “Thought you might want them.” He adds, “She bought them, though.”
“Nevertheless, I appreciate the thought,” Koushirou tells him. “You indubitably are the world’s most superlative,” he pauses there, dark eyes flickering upwards, to their audience of one and finishes simply with, “boyfriend.” 
And oh. Taichi likes the sentence when it doesn’t come with the extra adjective for their relationship. He almost pokes himself in the eye with his fork, when he clamps a hand over his mouth when his grin refuses to temper itself. Grandma meets his gaze where he’s trained it back towards the lake, her smile knowing and sincere. He really hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. 
“You’re welcome,” he manages. 
Koushirou hums, still working slowly on his breakfast. As revenge, Taichi swipes another piece of plain pancake off his plate much to the other’s chagrin. 
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” Grandma wonders, turning back in her chair and digging into her own food. 
Taichi chews consideringly on his stolen meal. “I might hit the lake,” he decides.
“And risk cramps?” Koushirou asks wryly.
“Grandma will save me,” Taichi says. Across the beach, Kousuke cannonballs off the dock, the splash making its way to even Taichi’s ears. When Grandma doesn’t deny the possibility Taichi pushes, “Bet she could carry me and Kousuke back to shore single handedly.” 
Koushirou snorts. Grandma levels him with a bemused look as she cuts a piece of egg herself. 
Taichi takes another pancake piece and wonders, “What do you usually do on these vacations?”
“Sit inside,” Koushirou tells him, predictably. “Work.” 
“You should come to the lake with me,” Taichi insists, leaning in a little closer until their shoulders bump. “You mentioned a kayak, right? We could take that out. I paddle, you work.” 
Koushirou stares at him. Taichi shrugs. 
“I’m not risking getting my laptop drenched.” 
“What about without your laptop?”
“Improbable.”
“I’ll get you on the lake this week,” Taichi promises with a toothy grin. His eyes fall back on the glittering water and he doesn’t quite understand how someone could ignore the call of it, especially in this heat. If anyone can, he supposes, it would be Koushirou. Treat me as any other partner you’ve had slips through his mind and so he tacks on, “Babe,” nudging Koushirou’s elbow with his own. 
Taichi hums when nothing else is said to his proclamation. Still, Koushirou says nothing. When Taichi looks over he’s already staring into the far off distance, somewhere between the treeline of the neighbor’s yard.
“What’s up?” Taichi asks, nudging against him once more. 
Koushirou startles. “I,” he begins, pressing his lips together for a moment. “Nothing,” he says, gaze slowly trailing back to where it had been shortly before. “I thought I had spotted a painted turtle.” He points briefly in the direction, to the strip of lake still visible between the trees. 
“Oh?” Taichi squints, but sees nothing. “If you take out the kayak with me, we could meet your friend.”
“I’d prefer not.”
“Oh, go swimming, Koushirou,” Grandma puts in. 
“See?” Taichi says. “Grandma’s on my side. I’m sure she could pull you to shore, too.”
“I take back my last assessment,” Koushirou decides, taking a rather large bite of his pancake, his eyes narrowed at Taichi. “You are the worst.”
Taichi leans back in his chair, pulling his legs up to rest heavily against the edge of the table and feels his grin pull tighter. “I try my best.”
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