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selfcallednowhere · 2 years

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March 7, 2018 Seattle, WA

Another Seattle show at the beautiful and historic Neptune Theatre, one of my favorite venues in town where it's always a treat to see them. After a brief time at home to just catch my breath a little after spending the entire previous week traveling from show to show all the way up the coast, I met up with my usual Seattle show buddies crew of Matt and Ant and we headed over to the venue. Ant was recording the show, which was cool (I don't get bootlegs of the shows I'm at nearly often enough and I really appreciate having them both as mementos of the spectacular events shows always are for me and as aids in writing these very reviews), but it also meant I felt an obligation to not sing along lest my voice end up on the recording, which was almost physically painful because singing along with every single song, no matter how obscure (unless it's something they are only just then premiering and so there's no way I could've known the lyrics ahead of time) is such a major part of how I get into shows normally--it was perhaps similar to how the people who really love to dance feel when they're forced to sit down.

They opened with my beloved "Ana Ng," followed by "Damn Good Times." Afterwards, Flans informed us "Dan had the face-melt mod built into his guitar. He pulls out one of the little tone controls and it melts faces." Then he said that even though they've played here before he's still unclear on whether the proper name of the venue is "Neptune" or "The Neptune." After audience members yelled "The" he said, "The quiet dignity of The Neptune" (I don't know about "quiet" but "dignity" is certainly an apt quality to associate with a beautiful and classy old theatre like this one), and then differentiated it from the "New Wave" version of just "Neptune."

Then there was some discussion about how happy they were to be here at this sold-out show, with Flans saying something about high SAT scores and lit majors (guilty as charged on both counts over here) and John saying they'd sold out completely and lost all their street cred. Flans agreed and said, "Yeh, we're just getting our audition reel in to The Voice."

Then John talked about how they have a new album out and were hoping people weren't coming to the show just thinking "Well, I really like the old stuff, so I only have to put up with the new stuff," which elicited my usual reaction of awareness that he was joking but also real sadness at the idea that there might be at least some truth in that joke and a further awareness of how ridiculous that would be because the album in question is so so SO good, one of my favorites they've ever made. Then Flans said it was ok because the show was "impossibly long," and that this would "give us the elbow room to get in both songs that we feel are important for us to play, and songs that you feel are important for us to play."

Then Flans joked about how we should all be using our phones for both flash photography and any important texts we might get, and that we should offer up fake enthusiasm for the new songs, which John agreed with and said that was what he'd been trying to say earlier. He also informed us that vinyl copies of the new album are available at the t-shirt stand, and if we asked there might even be a "rare, unsigned copy" of it available. Then Flans said, "I do want to point out that a man appears to have brought some sort of gun sight to the show. That's a very elaborate camera you've got there, sir. I hope you're a professional. Please be sure to post those online." (As with any time the subject of photography is raised I really wanted John to jump in and say something since his own interest in it is so fascinating and exciting to me, but sadly he did not.)

They played "I Left My Body," and then Flans was asking, "What's that? What's that, Seattle audience? You wanna hear more new songs? *lots of cheering* We don't wanna slow down the show! Shit!" Then John said (in a mock-resigned voice) "Oh, all right."

They played "Mrs. Bluebeared" and then "Your Racist Friend" (complete with Curt's usual dramatic and ecstatically-greeted entrance) and then "Hey, Mr. DJ, I Thought You Said We Had a Deal" (complete with Curt's usual completely amazing playing that I always enjoy more than on any of the other songs featuring him).

Then, in what Flans described as "the moment I've all been waiting for," the contra-alto clarinet made its first appearance. "People in the audience who have been doing Google Image searches of 'enormous paperclip' can calm down now. Introducing, coming in stage left, it's the contra-alto clarinet, ladies and gentlemen! It has its own Pinterest page. With thousands of pins. Many of them...are just drywall equipment photographs." Then he was making the joke he often does about how it was "stolen in the middle of the night" from a local high school marching band, and John cut in to say that he actually did purchase it from someone here in Seattle. Flans again: "And by the way, on the case it does appear to have some sort of stenciled...H...something...that's been very crudely removed. 'Property of thieves.'" John said, "I think everything we own says that."

Then Flans said, "Actually, there's a place we can't play in Boise anymore, because they're so mad at us about another thing, but it's too complicated to get into." A setup like that (especially as told by Flans, who can make pretty much anything hilarious) couldn't help eliciting plenty of laughter and (for me anyway) curiosity, so he continued "But because they're never gonna talk to us again, I can tell the story now, briefly." He said the place was "a very legitimate theatre--I forget the name of it, but it's the only very legitimate theatre in Boise." Boise is close enough to Seattle (relatively, about 500 miles or to put it the obvious other way "just a full day's drive away") that apparently there were people in the crowd who knew the place in question and were yelling the name, but Flans informed them it was unnecessary because he'd been lying about not remembering it. John said he felt like they were "entering that late Frank Sinatra period, where you just complain about stuff," and then Flans went ahead and named names: the theatre is called The Egyptian. He explained that equipment like lights and music stands are normally provided by the venue, but at this place "all their music stands just said, like, 'The Something-Something Elementary School.' And I don't think they bought 'em at an auction. Just sayin'." Then he told us to "feel free to not post that on social media" but SORRY Flans it is my contractual obligation to record and post every single detail of these shows. Then he asked how those of us in the balcony "enjoying the luxury of seating" were doing (we always sit in the balcony at Neptune shows because Matt has a bad back and can't really handle standing for a whole show well).

Then they launched into "All Time What" (supreme rockin' fun as always), and then Flans said it was now time to return to the deep cuts, which John said actually means the "crappy old songs." Flans said the next song was from their "worst-selling album" and I was wondering what that might be, but the answer, once it was revealed, seemed rather obvious: Mink Car.

The song in question was "Bangs," which I personally am not superinto, but it is still reasonably fun live, and also I was just happy for Ant because he adores the song for reasons I'm not entirely clear on but it still makes me happy when my friends are seeing songs I know they're really excited about seeing. Then they did "When the Lights Come On" (still the ultimate live new song of the ones they were doing on the tour up to this point--so rocking! And I hardly ever get live Linnell rocking opportunities.)

Afterwards, John said "Let's drag the show down a little, let's slow the show down. Stop all this high-energy stuff. Can't keep up, man." Then Flans told us he'd actually thought the show was going to start at 9 (an hour later than the actual start-time).

JL: Well, that's when the show really starts. JF: I just got here. JL: I'm not here yet.

Then Flans went on to tell us that it's "very hard for me to time my activities appropriately," and that his phone rang at 7:58 when he was "in the middle of a beautiful meal with a good friend" (I know he has plenty of friends all over the place but I couldn't help wondering if he was talking about amazing local musician and well-documented Flans pal John Roderick).

I also should note that it was at this point in the show that these really obnoxious guys near us in the balcony started yelling out requests for "Minimum Wage" and other stupid shit and continued to do so frequently for the rest of the show, often at times that made it difficult to hear what The Johns were saying, which is horrible because (as anyone who's been to even a single TMBG show knows) that's one of the most enjoyable parts about seeing them. I was only restrained by going over to tell them to shut the fuck up in the between-sets break by Ant and Matt repeatedly telling me that they were drunk and my attempts to do so would surely not do any good.

Then Flan gave us this big fakeout. He said the next song was from The Else, and then started telling a story about talking with an "interview person" when the album was first released who was telling him what a great opening track the album had, but then he had to explain to him that iTunes had just loaded it in backwards. I missed the The Else tour and have only seen a very small number of songs from it a small number of times in the tours since, but I have seen "The Mesopotamians" approximately 50 million times, enough that I am now really burned out on it live, so to think for a moment that I would instead be getting to see "I'm Impressed" (one of my favorite songs on the album which I most definitely have not seen) and get really excited about that, only to find out it was just another performance of the one I've already seen 50 million times, was extremely disappointing.

Then John made a joke about how he wished they could have the "iTunes loaded it backwards" effect for their entire career. "'You guys are so young and fresh now!'" Then he did a variation of his frequent joke intro for the song:

JL: So here's a song about an ancient near-Eastern rock band. They had a TV show in the '60s, and by that I mean the three-thousand-and-sixties, BC. Some of you are not old enough to remember. JF: The original '60s. JL: Yeh. The real '60s.

So then they of course played "The Mesopotamians," and although as I just detailed I'm quite burned out on this song, this particular performance did feature a couple of the things John often does during it that are exceedingly cute, the first being holding up a bit of his own hair on the "says my haircut makes me look like a Mohenjo-daroan" line and the second being hopping.

Flans said because it was now just before the end of the first set it was a spot where they could play the really quiet song, and then they played "This Microphone." Afterwards, he informed us that the song was both on the new album and (shortly) also on Dial-A-Song.

JF: In the next couple of weeks there's gonna be an animated version of it made by this fellow Dave who, if you track the New Yorker covers, he did the one of Donald Trump in the sailboat, with the sail in the shape of the Klan...hat. We collaborated with him on the video. By 'collaborated' I mean 'he made it for us.' 'Collaborated' is a big word. And often misused. It means 'made for us.'" JL: And by 'collusion' I mean that he made it for us. *some other stuff I couldn't make out under all the cheering and yelling* You tell me. JF: If by 'criminal activity'-- JL: If it's in your heart and you care about, because you love America-- JF: Because you love America, you're a traitor. To your own country. JL: Then, yes. JF: If caring so much about money in itself is a crime, then put on the cuffs! Guilty as charged!

Then there was a loud thumping noise, which John attributed to "electric jolts" of his accordion mic. Flans said that microphones "seem like they can make so much sound, but when they're malfunctioning, they can make such louder sounds." Flans was asking him if the accordion was going to be ok to go and he said he wasn't sure, and Flans said "There appears to be a full box of Cap'n Crunch inside of his accordion." John said they should just go ahead and "it'll be amazing later--but for now, this weird shitty sound!" Flans told him he deserves a new accordion and so does the audience, which I was quite in agreement with because (as I've discussed many a time elsewhere) I would much much rather see him play literally any other accordion he has ever used than that damn depressingly tiny Main Squeeze.

So then came my other big upsetting disappointment of the first set. They started playing "Turn Around," which is one of my top top absolute all-time favorite songs, but then John abruptly stopped after the first verse.

JL: Hold on, hold on. I've got--I have a really cool idea, which is--we're gonna do this song, totally differently. You have enjoyed the accordion--really, that should be enough, right? You've seen it, you've heard it. So now, check this out. JF: John is taking the accordion off... JL: And heading over to the sophisticated horizontal accordion. See how that sounds.

He I guess thought this was quite funny, and judging by their reaction so apparently did a lot of the crowd (notably Ant, sitting right next to me), but I MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT. I mean ok ok I guess it was a little funny just as a way to describe the keyboard, but I was too busy being furious about not getting to see him play accordion on one of my most beloved accordion songs to care. (To clarify, even though I'd much rather see him play any other accordion than this one, I would also much rather see him play even this accordion than keyboard.) This is not the first time I've seen him switch over one of my top favorite accordion songs to keyboard, he's done it for "The Statue Got Me High" at a handful of shows I've been to, but it was the first time I'd seen him start to play a song on accordion but then switch over just a bit into it, and the pain of not getting a thing you really love is always made sharper by thinking first that you're going to. (Also for what it's worth the accordion sounded fine to me, after that initial loud thump before he actually started playing.)

They closed the first set with "Spy" (John was again employing that sample of a woman singing "Now the night has gone" that I saw him use a fair amount in the song on this tour but still am not sure of the source of) and then "Birdhouse in Your Soul."

After the between-sets break and the showing of the "Last Wave" demo vid, they returned for the Quiet Storm mini-set, starting with the cool contra-alto clarinet version of "Older." Then Flans explained that we were now in the Quiet Storm portion of the show, "where it is always quiet, and often stormy."

Then came "I Like Fun," which Flans informed us afterwards is the "titular track" on the new album and that he was only using that phrase "to make use of this adult crowd."

Then: "We do know that people enjoy the old songs, so we're gonna play a song from 1840 right now. You may recall the title of this song from the moment when you woke up in 9th grade history class. It's called 'Tippecanoe and Tyler Too.' It's an election song that was extremely persuasive. It was often sung right before the bar fight." After the song was over he told us, "Of course, that's an original composition." Whatever had been wrong with the accordion was apparently fixed now, or at least fixed enough to be considered playable, because John was once again playing it for this song and continued to do so when he normally would thereafter.

Then there was the transition they frequently did of telling us we would now be moving all the way to THE FUTURE of 1844, where we would find fantastical futuristic things like "driverless beards" (JF) and "electric buggy whips" (JL). Afterwards, John admitted that he'd mispronounced "Oregon" in the original recording of the song (a part of the song that got a big cheer from this crowd since Washington was also included in the territory, though it seemed like maybe he didn't know that because he just referred to it as "the state south of here"), "and I heard you guys singing along and I was like 'Oh well they're gonna get it right,' and I guess that, I guess--no? Don't make assumptions. I apologize. To everyone who's not here."

Then Flans said Marty was "leaving his electronic drums behind and embracing the acoustic sounds of the school alarm bell," and also Curt was switching over to the euphonium. "Of course, euphonium is not the instrument's real name" (a dumb joke I've seen both Johns repeat various times that still never fails to amuse me). Then they did "Shoehorn with Teeth," which is so fun live and I really haven't seen enough since way back in the day when I was first going to shows and it featured Dan Hickey on the glockenspiel, so that was fun.

Then:

JF: What's next? What are we playing next? JL: We have a song from our John Henry album. JF: You're gonna have to give me more information than that, John. JL: The roar of disapproval from the crowd. JF: Is it the one that starts with G minor? JL: It does start with G minor. Not to, y'know, give away--Spoiler alert! Don't spoil the song's G minor! JF: For the seven people in the audience with perfect pitch. Still no refunds.

So then was my song, my dearly beloved and intensely self-identified "A Self Called Nowhere," as deeply emotional and special an experience for me to see live as it ever was. I remain eternally grateful that I got to see this song live as much as I did on this tour, especially considering that before the tour happened I was resigned to the fact that I very likely would never see it at all.

Next they did the wonderful accordion arrangement of "How Can I Sing Like a Girl?," and then the full band returned for "Istanbul" complete with Curt's cool trumpet + valve trombone intro. Afterwards, Flans said having Curt playing with them every day is a constant reminder of "what it would've been like if we'd've just practiced more."

Then he went into an explanation of the AV Club covers project they've participated in, which he described as "like Hunger Games, but with music." He talked about how they'd first done "Tubthumping" and how difficult it was to make it into a good cover version, and then a couple of years later "we had what we call the 'oblitunity' to follow up that act, and were given the equally complicated task of covering a song by Destiny's Child," who he pointed out are much more popular than TMBG is and so it was "really a challenge" to mange to do this and not be hated by the mass of Destiny's Child fans. But then after the unexpected success of the song, "there was a brief period of time where we thought about changing the name of the band to Destiny's Child's Child, and touring casinos with a one-song repertoire."

So then they did "Bills, Bills, Bills," followed by "Particle Man" (with John's pre-song "command" for us to continue clapping on the backbeat "no matter how much we beg" and "Elusive Butterfly" in the middle), and then the ever-rockin', ever-amazing "The Guitar."

Afterwards, Flans was shouting out how amazing Danny was on that song, and how he hadn't been sure "how that was ever gonna end. It was like, this or dawn." John added that Danny had in fact badly injured his finger earlier in the week "so really, it's kind of ridiculous."

JF: It's been replaced with another person's finger. At extraordinary expense. And sacrifice. Of another person's finger. JL: The whole other person had to be sacrificed.

Then John said he wanted to figure out a way to "dovetail the cloning conversation we were having" (one of those casual mentions he sometimes does of what sound to me like really interesting conversations they're having on the bus or backstage or wherever that always make me so curious about what the conversations actually sound like) into this finger talk.

JF: It's impossible to say. JL: It's impossible to say. It's too early to say. JF: Too early to say. Facts aren't in. Facts aren't in about cloning being fucked up. For the sake of a finger. JL: I don't know. Y'know. Nobody knows. JF: Tremendous expense. JL: Ethical quandary.

Then they played "Wicked Little Critta" and then "New York City" (which Flans introduced by telling us it was by our fellow Pacific Northwesterners on the other side of the border, Cub from Vancouver). Afterwards, Flans told us about their scheduled upcoming appearance on the Joco cruise and their first-ever tour of Canada, to which we were "perilously close" and so should "pass the word along" to Canadians because they were beginning to worry that the whole thing was "a huge mistake. I mean, first of all, we posted on some social media somewhere that we were doing an eight-city tour of Canada, and a Canadian responded by saying, 'We have eight cities?' We're not making Canadian jokes, ladies and gentlemen. The Canadians are making Canadian jokes." Then he was joking about how there's "very little Canadian content up here on stage," and "It's true, we have actually played in places that were strip clubs during the day and rock venues at night, so we've had the essence of the Canadian rock experience. But now we're going full immersion."

They closed out the second set with a trio of always superfun live songs: "Number Three," "Twisting," and "Doctor Worm," with some band and crew intros stuck in before the last.

When they came back for the first encore, John was profusely thanking us for being so great, and then said, "We do love this town," and that he was really sincere. Then he asked Flans, "What was it Joe Franklin said?" Flans replied, "It's all about sincerity, and if you can fake that you can do anything." Then he started explaining who exactly Joe Franklin was, and said that he was the host of "the longest-running and incredibly dull television show" in New York, and that it was filmed on a split soundstage with the other half used for Romper Room, "so everything that you saw while you were on the show was just a gigantic Romper Room set." Then John checked to confirm if we actually knew what Romper Room was.

The first encore was the amazing double-shot I saw them do at several other shows around this time, "Dead" and then "Don't Let's Start," both of which are so so so high on my all-time fav songs list that I really couldn't ask for anything better.

When they returned for the second encore, John said, "So yeh, Mink Car. You love it, you hate it, you can't live with it..." Then they played "Man, It's So Loud in Here" (which is forever tied up with my extremely intense memories of that tour, my very early days in fandom), and closed things out with "Fingertips," including a very long, lingering final note.

So, a really swell show--fantastic setlist, beautiful venue, experienced with a couple of my best fandom buddies. The yelling drunk guys and brief accordion abandonment were upsetting, but whatever, still had a great time. And finally: John was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt with the sleeves pushed up.

#tmbg #show reviews

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

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Your safari au. Please. I need it. Water my crops with tigers and hyenas and witchers. Grabby hands and pleading faces in abundance here.

You are after my heart, Nonnie. And considering I've only talked about the Safari AU on Novigrad, I will happily assume you're lurking on there and I love you for it. Tweaked a little to add in a hyena just for you.

Lions and Tigers and Bears

Taking over a park was no easy feat, especially not when it came with a reputation like Nilfgaard had. Eskel scratched his head as he poured over the various financial reports, wondering just how much of it could be trusted. The problem was Nilfgaard had been a shining beacon in the animal conservation world, exceptional facilities, high enrichment for the animals and a successful rehabilitation rate. If there was ever an animal in need of a place, Nilfgaard had been first choice for years. All that came tumbling down in light of the revelation that Nilfgaard had been trading illegally, their animals sold to private owners as exotic pets or, even worse, hunters who wanted a guaranteed, easy kill. The place had been shut down immediately, a skeleton crew kept on to tend to the animals but nothing more. Management was on trial and Kaer Morhen had won the bid to take over. Though small and mostly unknown, nobody else had wanted to touch the remnants of Nilfgaard so they were quite uncontested in their bid. What had seemed like a good idea at the time, an noble because it was in the interest of the animals, now was an absolute headache.

Between the three of them, Geralt, Eskel and Lambert could split most of the urgent work. They had Jaskier working on rebranding, Yennefer managing the board and Vesemir as the head. It left them free to run the day to day of the park, learning the animals as well as the people who they had kept on. But they were going to need more people to actually help the place flourish and regain its standing in the community. Which meant asking the heads of departments for who should be kept on and what roles to recruit for from scratch. The easy ones were things like hospitality, Zoltan had a firm grip on the needs of the park and its visitors, knew all the catering firms and how to run a tight ship. So it was one less headache for them. Eredin had stepped up as Head of Security readily once it was proven he had no knowledge of the animal smuggling. Again, his familiarity with the park was a boon, as were his connections, putting together a security team that could be trusted. Much more messy was the animal welfare section. Fringilla, much like Eredin, had stepped up to become interim Head Zookeeper and was doing her best. While they were understaffed, Geralt, Eskel and Lambert helped out where they could but much of their time was spent getting to know the routine of the park and its many animals.

"We need to know who we can trust," Lambert grumbled, leaning over the table where they had personnel files open. "It's impossible to know who was in on things and who wasn't."

Though, in all likelihood, none of the lower level workers knew that when they helped usher one of their beloved animals into a crate, they weren't sending them off to another facility or a happily ever after. But it was something they just couldn't risk.

"May I?" Fringilla asked, eyes roving over all the files. At Geralt's gesture, she began pulling some of them out. "You'll want Triss, she was a vet here, promote her to senior or chief or whatever you call it. She's solid. And Sabrina, she's great, works well with Triss. Retain Istredd, Mousesack, Calanthe and Eist too. oh, and Letho for the reptile house." As she spoke, she kept looking with a small frown.

"Missing someone?" Eskel asked. Nodding, Fringilla frowned. Without much care for manners, she walked to the cupboards and began pulling out files until she hit the folder of resignations and terminations. From there, she pulled out one last file.

"You'll want him."

The folder was taken from her and the three peered at it with varying levels of frowns.

"You want us to hire someone who was terminated for gross misconduct? Whose notes suggest he abused animals and has blacklisted from working with animals?"

"No. I want you to meet the whistle-blower. Cahir's the one who found out about the trafficking and reported it. Nilfgaard didn't take kindly to it and retaliated."

Not sold on the idea, Lambert crossed his arms over his chest. "His file doesn't look exceptional. Personally, if he applied for a job, I'm not sure he shines enough to even be called in for an interview."

It was a sentiment echoed by the other two and Fringilla had to fight to hold back a sneer. "Invite him in and judge for yourselves. Just because his record doesn't have a quantifiable or gradable measure of commitment doesn't mean he won't be fantastic. If we ever have a new animal in that doesn't need to stay hospitalised, I wouldn't want anyone but Cahir to help settle it in. Especially the younger ones and babies."

Against their better judgement, the three decided to follow Fringilla's advice and e-mailed Cahir an interview offer. The reply was terse but assured them that he would be there at the agreed time.

First impressions were, to put gently, not great. Cahir looked rumpled, bags under his eyes and his attitude was rather sullen. It didn't bode well as they sat in the office, Cahir an odd mix of defiant and subservient. At least Fringilla had the grace to push the interview forward as much as she could until even she sighed and leaned back.

"Why don't we walk through some of the enclosures? Make sure you still remember what's where."

As they walked, Eskel ended up next to Cahir, who seemed content to not talk. That didn't stop Eskel from trying to initiate conversation.

"So, what have you been doing in the three months since you left here?"

"Tried to survive."

The blunt answer had Eskel blinking, there were many things he expected but not that. "Oh?"

For the first time Cahir actually looked at him, sadness bleeding through his half glare. "I used to live on site, worked for Nilfgaard from the age of 15, took a full time post at 18 and moved into the small cottage in the southern corner of the land. They fired me, I lost everything."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them as Eskel tried to figure out just how much of Cahir's so story was an exaggeration. "Have you been living with friends then?"

"For a few weeks, yeah." Cahir actually scoffed. "I've been trying to get a job and living in a hostel off savings. Turns out, only having in-house qualifications does not bode well for prospects in the world at large."

Fringilla led them into an enclosure where the grass was high. From the looks and smells, Eskel would have guessed it was a tiger's habitat but he wasn't familiar enough with the park yet to know. He would have hesitated going in, especially in a group like they were but Eskel had to trust Fringilla as she came to a stop and they stood in a loose circle.

The house Cahir had mentioned was one Eskel was familiar with. They had often wondered why it was empty yet well kept. It had felt like a life interrupted when they had a look round, nothing personal there yet it didn't have the empty, unlived-in feel of a show home. In a way, Eskel was regretting just how poorly Cahir's interview was going because he could easily see them offering his house back as part of a contract.

"So why are we here?" Lambert's words broke Eskel's reverie. "I thought we wanted to go on a walk."

It was by pure chance that Eskel caught Fringilla's smirk at Cahir and the slightest softening of that stern expression in return. Clicking his tongue, Cahir shot Lambert a look. "Tell me, have you ever been stalked by a tiger before?"

"No."

"You sure about that?" Cahir clicked his tongue twice and the world burst into motion. From the long grass a tiger pounced and Eskel was not ashamed to admit he let out a surprised yell. He wasn't the only one though, Lambert gasping, hand at his mouth and shoulders up as the tiger took Cahir out. They went tumbling and only Geralt looked like he might lurch into action, taking half a step towards the animal and Cahir. It would have been hopeless though, the two were wrestling on the ground until Cahir was on his back, tiger hunched above him.

The first thing Eskel noticed was how Cahir's face was creased into a happy grin. He looked younger, relaxed and happy ever as the tiger licked a large stripe from jaw, up his chin to his hairline. All Cahir did was laugh.

"Yes, yes, I missed you too, Princess," he said. fingers loosened from the fur in the tiger's neck and petted along her nose with the ease of familiarity.

"What the actual fuck?!" Lambert all but screeched. "What the fuckity fucking fuck?"

Eskel had the sense to look to Fringilla for answers, even if he wanted to watch Cahir with the tiger. The change in the man wasn't something he could have predicted. Gone was the sullen, defensive and standoffish air, replaced by an easy smile and a look of serene happiness as Cahir looked at the tiger, checking her over out of habit, muttering about dirty ears and mucky paws as he went.

"That is what you won't ever learn from a CV and qualifications," Fringilla said. She was absolutely looking smug. "Princess came to us at 9 months old, from a circus. Had terrible separation anxiety and a host of other issues too. She wasn't doing well despite our best efforts. At least, not until Cahir took her home and cared for her during the nights rather than leave her in a hospital cage. He introduced her to independence, slept out in the open with her for a few weeks when she was ready to transition to outdoors." Much more quietly, she added, "She's not the only animal he'd done that for. To find out some of his beloved children have been sold hit him hard. I don't think I'd ever seen him cry before then."

Turning back, Eskel watched as Cahir was sat on the ground, tiger with her back to him. The slightly strained "oh no you don't" from Cahir was lost as the tiger pushed up onto her hind legs and flopped backwards. Had she been smaller, Cahir would have probably caught her like a baby. As it was, he grunted as the weight crashed across his legs and he had a happily chuffing tiger's belly to tickle.

"I assume you'd vouch for him?" Geralt asked.

"In a heartbeat." Fringilla grinned at Cahir but it was lost on him, so focused on Princess as he was. The others might as well have stopped existing. That was the moment Eskel knew his heart was in danger. It didn't get easier as time went on. Hiring Cahir was proving to be a good decision. He just got on with the work, never finding anything distasteful or below him to do. If it needed doing, he got it done.

Over time he opened up too, Eskel found himself wandering down to the southern corner of the park to the little house that was now full of life. He got used to Cahir usually having a baby or two in his care. Sometimes he babysat for Letho's hatchlings, content to have baby snakes trying to look around his arms as they learned how to cope with being handled. The friendship between the two was one Eskel couldn't claim to understand but they seemed to make it work.

"Knock knock," he announced himself by the open back door.

"Come on in," Cahir called as he wandered out of the kitchen. "I'm just finishing making dinner, care to join me?"

That was new too, Cahir was inviting Eskel into his life more and more. It made Eskel feel even better about what he was planning to ask at Fringilla's instructions.

"I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow. There's a new arrival that we think will need your assistance."

Cahir cocked an eyebrow and held up an empty plate in question again. At Eskel's nod he began loading. "Anything you can tell me about it?"

"Not much. Private collector got raided, had a few animals in his less than tender care."

"So they'll be part socialised, part traumatised. I can work with that."

Somehow, Eskel had no doubts about that. But he was holding back some information because Fringilla had told him to keep it a surprise. The next morning the transport van rolled in, a small group of them ready to handle the newest arrivals. There were a couple of pythons for Letho to bring into his fold, a parrot for Guxart to train into swearing. Last was a large crate. As interesting as it was, Eskel's eyes were on Cahir, the way his nostrils flared as he caught scent of the hyena. The box opened and the animal cautiously peered out.

"Dave!" Cahir exclaimed, all semblance of quiet professionalism gone as he hopped off the top of the crate he'd helped open.

If his reaction had been exuberant, it was nothing compared to the hyena's. They collided next to the box, all over each other.

"I missed you buddy." There were tears running down Cahir's cheeks as Dave alternated between butting into him and running tight, excited circles around him before settling down and trying to bodily press into him. Glancing up, Cahir gave Fringilla a wobbly smile. "How did you find her?"

Her? Last Eskel checked, Dave was a male name. Still, he wasn't going to interrupt the tender reunion with such a dumb question.

"She was part of a collector's hoard. Didn't have the right permits so he was made to give her up to those who could offer her proper care."

A broken "thank you" was whispered in her direction before Cahir buried his face in the hyena's neck. Eskel watched with so many questions. Thankfully Fringilla didn't miss that fact.

"She was born in captivity, originally assumed to be a boy, needed to be hand reared after mum rejected her. She never understood that she wasn't human and as a result has spent most of her life living with Cahir. We've tried so often to introduce her to a pack but she never took to them, content to stay with them for a day, two at a push before she starts pining. When Nilfgaard sold her, that's when Cahir got suspicious, did some digging and realised she hadn't gone to another park. So Dave is a catalyst for this whole fiasco if you will."

Watching them, Eskel nodded. He had a hyena to befriend if he wanted to keep Cahir in his life it would seem.

#pre-Cahir/Eskel #fringilla vigo #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #eskel #lambert #geralt #safari au #tldr: nilfgaard is a disgraced safari the kaer morhen idiots take over

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 35

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 3.7k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Just a soft, fluffy chapter for you all after the angst and smut of the last two haha. Please leave comments and reblog it for me so others can read! Send me asks and so forth, we’re getting close to the endgame here so...I really hope you can spur me on.

; Flower Masterpost

“Ahhhh, I’m so excited!” Hoseok is practically vibrating in the passenger seat as you drive carefully, eyes firmly on the road and watching the car ahead of you. There’s nothing ahead of them but they’re still doing about ten miles less than the speed limit, frustrating you.

You don’t complain though, instead just sigh deeply while rolling your eyes at the slow person. It was hard to truly feel too annoyed though because Hoseok’s enthusiasm was so infectious. Which was why you’d been sporting a smile for most of the morning, thoroughly bemused by his excitement.

The reason for his bubbly demeanour today was because you were officially going to pick up your new puppy. You’d known for a long time that Hoseok wanted a dog; he’d loved them a lot and had always wanted one. But he just hadn’t had the time or space to get one, particularly given his old apartment not being pet friendly.

It had taken some convincing for you to say yes to a dog, mainly because you’d worried how Kasumi might be around another pet and also because you weren’t a huge dog fan. You liked them obviously, but they required so much more work than a cat. As much as Hoseok loved Kasumi though, you knew what he wanted.

The convincing had mainly been that he wouldn’t leave all the taking care of the dog to you. You didn’t want to end up being the only one cleaning up the mess in the yard or walking them, etc. He’d promised that he would care for the dog just as much as you did, maybe even a little more.

It wasn’t like he didn’t help out in the house anyway, he did because you wouldn’t let him not help, but you just didn’t want to get stuck doing all the dog duties when he was the one who wanted it the most. You doubted he would do that as he was pretty good with looking after Kasumi, even though she wasn’t even his. Given this was something he wanted, you had faith that he’d be a good doggy daddy.

The two of you had poured over websites that advertise puppies for sale alongside looking over rescue centres to try and find the best dog for you both. It had been hard to narrow down your requirements as there were some breeds that you just didn’t want to have and Hoseok had his own opinion on some as well. Other important things were that they needed to be okay with cats and being left alone during the day while you were both working.

But you also wanted something energetic when necessary and enjoyed walks. Part of the reason that you’d said yes was that you hoped it would get both of you to start going out on walks to just enjoy nature a little more instead of staying cooped up in the house. You always enjoyed when you’d gone out but it was hard to break your habits.

Your problems had been resolved happily when you’d been told by Hoseok’s parents that his aunt had a dog who had had a litter of puppies recently. They’d bought a female puppy and before they’d been able to get her spayed, she’d, unfortunately, got the attention of the neighbour’s dog. Which meant she’d been way too young to breed and they’d ended up with surprise puppies.

The mom was a working Cocker Spaniel breed with the prettiest colouring; a soft lemon tan and white with the most adorable eyes. The dad was a Bichon, a breed you weren’t too familiar with but who looked pretty cute too. What resulted was called a Cock-a-Chon, the most adorable bundle of fluff you’d ever seen.

Each puppy had the cutest curly fur and was the perfect mix of both their parent’s beautiful faces. They wouldn’t be too large when grown which was good for you both, as neither of you wanted a really big dog or anything. The puppy you’d both chosen was a creamy golden colour and you’d both fallen in love with her as soon as she’d fallen over her feet when running over to you.

Well...you say that you’d chosen her. It was more like she’d chosen Hoseok because he’d immediately ended up with a tiny puppy crawling all over his legs while her tail wagged at such speed you were worried she might hurt it. Needless to say, Hoseok had been completely lost to those sweet black eyes.

It had taken one look at you with equally big and cute eyes that had been earnestly begging to get your agreement. And that had been it. You’d officially known you were going to be collecting her a few weeks after that point and you’d let Hoseok name her, choosing Ciri from the Witcher series.

The time spent in-between that visit and going to bring her home had been spent making sure that the house was puppy-proof. You hadn’t known how to do that but the two of you had done a lot of research, hoping that if she was kept entertained enough then you wouldn’t have to worry about chewing or anything.

Given that Hoseok had been the one to want a dog in the first place, you’d let him run wild with all the stuff he wanted to get for her. There wasn’t any room for argument considering the number of things you’d bought Kasumi over the years and it had been heart-warming to watch Hoseok get so excited over a patterned collar and a personalised name tag on it.

So she had a ridiculous amount of dog toys already, alongside what you were convinced was a mountain of puppy food and treats, those mats to help house train her, two dog beds, a collar, a cage and lots of blankets to go inside it to train her for when neither of you was home. You hadn’t particularly liked the idea of caging her but you’d resolved to make it her safe space where she could go when she was feeling tired or just didn’t want to be bothered instead of punishment or anything.

Honestly, you’d warned Hoseok many times to make sure he didn’t go too overboard and spoil a dog neither of you even had yet.

Quite clearly, it hadn’t worked given how much he’d bought the little puppy. But again, you were loath to put a leash on his enthusiasm for it all. Pun not intended.

He never asked for a whole lot from you, even now with your three-year-anniversary approaching in just a few months. It always felt like you were taking a lot from him and not giving much back, so if he wanted to go wild and buy a lot of stuff for the new puppy then you weren’t going to complain too much.

There was a lot worse to spend his money on. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t even paying for Ciri. His aunt didn’t want to be paid for the puppy given she was going to a family member and she hadn’t even been expecting them at all. From what you knew, the other puppies had been sold for only a hundred dollars each. Just to cover their medical expenses up to that point.

It was a fantastic deal really, but you were mostly just pleased that Hoseok was finally going to get the dog he’d always wanted. He spoiled you often enough so you were revelling in the fact that you got to spoil him in turn.

That thought made you snort with laughter, the very idea of you two fighting not because you were angry but because you were trying to one-up each other with affection and love. You don’t get to see the curious look Hoseok gives you, slight confusion on his face before he shrugs to himself.

“I hope Kasumi will be okay with this.” Whispering the words, you frown slightly as you watch the road ahead. There’s only maybe another five minutes before you’ll both be there, reading to pick up Ciri and take her home but you’re a little worried about your other pet.

Ciri would probably be fine with her, being so young that she’d grow up with the cat as her big sister. But Kasumi had spent a long time with it being just her getting all the attention from you, and Hoseok when he’d entered her life. Not to mention the fact that she could hurt Ciri if they didn’t get on, those sharp claws easily causing harm to the tiny puppy.

“We’ll take it slow. The good thing about cats is that they can take themselves away if they’re not happy. She’s used to Ciri’s scent and we’ve got plenty of treats and toys for her too so she doesn’t feel so left out. We just have to make sure that we don’t let Ciri overwhelm her. She’ll be okay Meeps.” Hoseok reaches out and takes your hand, rubbing at your knuckles in reassurance.

His aunt had sent over some blankets and toys that she’d rubbed all over Ciri, soaking them in the puppy’s scent so that you could introduce it to Kasumi. Hopefully, it would mean that while your beloved cat probably wouldn’t appreciate the exuberance of her new sister but she would at least recognise the smell.

“Is it silly that I’m worrying about stuff like that? I mean...your friends are getting married and having babies but I’m here just concerned that my cat might not like our puppy.” That makes Hoseok snort in amusement, slipping his hand beneath yours to link your fingers together before squeezing.

“Hey...that’s their choice. We’ve chosen to have furbabies instead, nothing wrong with that.” Wrinkling your nose, you indicate to turn right and drive slowly down the street his aunt lives on. It’s a nice area with large houses set back from the road, each one having an equally big drive leading to two-car garages. Tall trees, probably decades old at this point, line along the street with luscious green grass between each one and the dips allowing cars to park.

Much like the rest of Hoseok’s family, his aunt is pretty wealthy. She never had any kids though, living in her beautiful house with her wife and a menagerie of animals. Alongside the cocker spaniel that had gotten pregnant; she also had a chocolate labrador, a black cocker spaniel, a parakeet and three cats. It was your idea of a dream in terms of all the animals but the clean up must be terrible.

Pulling into her driveway, you take in the sight of her house once more in awe. You doubt anyone in your family could ever afford something like this and it still leaves you with a sense of imposter syndrome when you realise just how rich Hoseok’s whole family is.

Thankfully though, he’d never made it an issue.

“Oh my god! Come on! Let’s go.” Hoseok practically squeals, his excitement making him look so young and completely at odds with his metalhead appearance. Snorting, you can’t help but smirk as you turn off the engine as he’s already out of the car. Sighing affectionately, you follow him at a much slower pace.

He’s already vanished into the house by the time you get to the door, his aunt, Miyeon, standing with the door held open and an exasperated look on her face. Smiling at her, you take your shoes off and hand her the bag that you’d prepared earlier with an apologetic look on your face.

“Hi, Auntie! How are you? Oh, I’m good thanks Hoseok, and you?” She says sarcastically, rolling her eyes at you. There’s more than a little fondness in her face and voice though so you’re not too worried that she’s genuinely annoyed at him, smiling a little brighter as you greet her.

“Sorry. He’s excited. It’s been like having a toddler in the car rather than an almost 31-year-old man. Thank you so much though, I know you didn’t want anything for her but I couldn’t just..give you nothing. Hoseok said that you collect wine and I don’t know anything about wine because I don’t drink but-” She interrupts you with a hand on your arm, a smile on her face.

“You didn’t have to. But thank you, I appreciate it. Don’t worry, wine is wine. I’ll enjoy drinking it no matter what, I guarantee you that. Anyway, come on. I’ve baked some cookies for you both. Hobi always used to adore eating them when he was younger; peanut butter, hazelnut and chocolate chips.” Leading you through her home, you can already hear the barking of puppies alongside Hoseok’s joyful laughter.

You don’t even realise you’re smiling until you see yourself in a mirror, your expression light and happy. Who’d have thought that just the sound of someone’s laugh could be such a fulfilling experience?

“Ahhh, so that’s why he likes them. He always asks me to bake those if I’m in that kind of mood. Always thought it was a bit odd as he doesn’t eat anything else with peanut butter, just those. Seemed a strange combination for him to love.” Her kitchen is just as big as the rest of the house, tastefully decorated with all the latest appliances.

You were a little envious of her fridge. It was one of those super fancy Samsung ones where you could see inside without even opening the door thanks to a panel on the front alongside what you could only describe as a tablet embedded into the door. Who needed to watch Netflix on their fridge?

But all you can truly focus on is the delicious scent of freshly baked cookies. Inhaling deeply, you hum and can’t help but wiggle in delight. His aunt laughs, handing one to you and you eat it quickly. They’re not your favourite flavour but you’d never turn down a homemade cookie.

Especially when it was still warm and slightly gooey.

“Go on, go take one to Hoseok. If he’s not gone into a puppy coma or something. Bora is working late tonight so she won’t be home,” She mentions her wife, letting you know that you won’t be seeing her today. “And I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Are you sure? Do you need any help?” Shaking her head, Miyeon smiles softly at you before suddenly cupping your cheek. Her hands are soft, likely through years of a careful skincare regime, and warm but there’s nothing strange about it. More like she’s just observing you.

“He’s lucked out with you, does he know that?” Snorting, you grin as you move away towards the sound of happy chaos. Looking back at her, you hold the cookie up with pride.

“I try to make sure he realises that at least once a day. Keep him on his toes, you know?” Her laughter follows you out of the kitchen and you marvel at yourself for how bold you’d just been. Your past self would be shocked to see you now, probably confused as to how you feel confident enough to say something so bold.

“Hey, butthead. You didn’t say hello to your aunt. That was rude,” You say to Hoseok, your tone only slightly playful. “Go say hi. Look, she even made you cookies.”

Handing one to him, you note how he’s laid on the floor and is surrounded by all the puppies in the litter. Ciri was going to be the first one to go so her four brothers and sisters were all still here. Small tails were wagging furiously at your arrival and you couldn’t help but giggle as they ran over to you, jumping and standing on Hoseok’s exposed stomach from where his shirt had twisted up and causing him to groan.

“Hello, puppies! Oh, aren’t you so cute!” Cooing to them, you hand the cookie to Hoseok as he sits up with a slight wince. For a minute or so, he just eats and watches you with the little ones as you play with them all, unable to stop smiling as they practically throw their small, furry bodies against you in an attempt for your attention.

“Go say hi!” Hissing slightly, your eyes narrow at Hoseok until he holds his hands up and gets up, heading out of the room to go properly greet his aunt. Once he’s gone, you look at all the puppies with a gleeful expression and sit cross-legged.

“Good, he’s gone. Let’s play!” The last word is loud and sharp while you reach forward, tickling one of them until they fall onto their back, showing their tummy for scratches and yelping enthusiastically. His siblings are barking too, tails hitting you almost painfully from how hard they’re going.

Glancing over at their mom, who’s currently laid in her dog bed with tired eyes, you smile affectionately before crawling over to her and giving her a loving stroke too. She seems to almost let out a deep sigh and you can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through her soft fur.

“Is it tiring, mama? All these babies wanting your attention all the time. I bet you can’t wait for some alone time. You’ve done well though, look how cute they are!” It must be a law somewhere that everyone should take to animals as if they’re human, especially in that voice that’s reserved for cute things.

But her big eyes are full of warmth and her tail wags lazily against the bed at your words, causing a few pups to try and attack it. You can’t help but marvel at how she just doesn’t seem to notice them, letting them do what they want.

“Not long now, they’ll all be going to their new homes soon. I bet you’ll miss them. We’ll bring Ciri by sometimes so you can see her!” The other dogs in the house had been socialised with the puppies for the last few weeks and Choco, the labrador was currently laid out against the couch. He was watching you carefully but for the most part, didn’t seem to be too bothered by all the noise.

You presumed that Bella, the other spaniel, was with Miyeon in her office.

“Okay, I said hello. And apologised,” Hoseok said, sitting down next to you and immediately welcoming two puppies onto his lap. “Sorry, I was rude, you’re right. They’re even cuter than last time.”

Grabbing one of the toys they had, he played with one of them enthusiastically until the puppy seemed to exhaust itself. There was a brief moment where it tried hard to keep up but then the next thing you knew, it was fast asleep on the floor. Laughing, you pointed at it before grinning at Hoseok.

“Oh my god, it’s you when you’re drunk.”

That gets a playful scowl but he just shrugs, reaching over to rub Choco’s ears to make sure he didn’t feel left out by it all. The labrador’s long tail beats against the floor tiredly, almost like he can’t be bothered to do it and you smirk at the sight. No doubt all the animals in the house are feeling a little tired and overwhelmed with all the excitement that’s been happening.

Finally, though, the puppies all seem to lose their energy and start to fall asleep wherever they are. Soon enough, you’re surrounded by bundles of fluff that are all twitching in their sleep, the silence pleasant after all their noise.

Hoseok carefully, and slowly, lifts Ciri into his lap. Her colouring was more cream than the rest of them, the others skewing more towards an almost golden tan. It had been part of the reason he’d named her Ciri. Her character in the show, video game and book series was infamous for her ash-blonde hair.

She doesn’t wake up, even as he takes off the coloured collar that had indicated whose puppy she was and replaces it with the one you’d both bought. The tag clunks loudly against the metal ring, causing you both to pause in fear that you’ve woken the others up but none of them stirs.

Finally, he shuffles back until he’s resting against the couch next to you, Ciri sleeping soundly in his arms and looks at you with a bright grin. The sheer amount of affection and happiness in that expression makes your heart physically ache, causing you to press a hand to it without realising.

“Ahh, we have a dog!” He whispers, eyes dancing as he tilts until he’s leaning heavily against you. His head rests on your shoulder and you smile, kissing his hair and just inhaling deeply. The smell of him always makes you feel content and relaxed, but even more so right now after all the chaos of the puppies for the last fifteen minutes.

“We do. Happy?” Nodding, he looks up at you before carefully reaching and cupping your cheek. His hands are rougher than his aunts, but you lean into the touch happily. There’s a brief pause before he kisses you, the movement soft and gentle with no real pressure. It’s more of an ‘I’m-happy’ kiss than anything else and you reciprocate it with ease.

The two of you stay in comfortable silence after that, just stroking and admiring Ciri for a while with no inclination to move just yet. You didn’t want to take her from her family so soon, even if you were her new family now. She should get to play with them all one last time before she goes.

“God, if you told college Hoseok that in a decade he’d been in a long-term relationship with a job, a house, a car, a dog and a cat...well let’s just say that laughing would have been the politest thing he could have done.”

“You know, I was thinking something like that earlier. I don’t think my old me would even recognise me now. But I think that’s for the better. I like who I am now, where I am now.” Stroking Ciri’s velvet-soft ears, you don’t see the fond smile on Hoseok’s face.

“I love you.” Smiling shyly, you take the chance to lean against him now and rest your head. Gently, you poke at his arm in your silent language, letting him know that you reciprocate before sighing contentedly.

For once, you finally felt completely at ease.

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 7

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: mentions of insecurity

A/N: I love and hate this chapter so much

Although this trip wasn’t for leisure, Neville was doing everything to treat it like it was. No matter how busy he was with planning the current mission or even seeing what else Italy had to offer money wise, he made sure to make time for (Y/n). Everyday had been a dream come true, from softer moments down to more...intimate moments.

He hadn’t taken her all the way yet nor had he asked her to return the favor but he didn’t need her to. Spending hours upon hours between her legs was more than enough for him. The small whimpers and whiny moans that would erupt from her plagued his thoughts during all times of the day. Most of the time he’d step away to take care of himself when he did but other times when that option wasn’t available he’d pray to Merlin that his obvious hard on would just disappear. It was 50/50 with whether that’d actually work and when it didn’t? The guys would never let him forget.

Today was different though. Instead of having to split his time between preparing for the big day or spending time with his beloved he got to do both. Today was the day before they’d put their plan in action, making it the safest day to bring her to the museum considering there was no risk. Because the museum received many visitors on the daily, no one ever questioned their consistent visit. Plus, their attire often made them look like the kind of people who admired art, which wasn’t an incorrect assumption. They did appreciate art, just even more so when it was in their home or being sold to some rich idiot.

(Y/n) looked around in awe at everything around her. Everything about the museum screamed class and money. There wasn’t just art on the walls, but the ceilings had been hand painted as well. However, her eyes fixated on the glass display in the center of the room. Inside was an array of jewels of all sorts, in crowns, in rings, in earrings, but also in the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen. It had the biggest diamonds she had ever seen, connected by a white gold chain. Reading the sign she saw it belonged to a queen of a country that no longer existed and it had clearly been kept in immaculate condition over the years. A matching set of earrings set on the other side of it.

“See something you like, petal?” she jumped at the sound of the voice, turning her head slightly to smile at the man. Neville smiled back, wrapping his arms around her waist as he came behind her. His eyes lingered on the way her reflection made it seem like she was wearing the necklace. He couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she would look in it.

“No, just looking.” she responded, turning around to wrap her arms around the man’s neck. However, she couldn’t help but feel as though someone was staring at her. Looking out the corner of her eye, she saw a womanly figure facing her direction. She went to look but her attention was turned to the warm cheek on her hand. Neville leaned down, pressing his lips to hers not even trying to fight the smile growing on his lips. She kissed him back, standing on the tip of her shoes before pulling him down to her height as she giggled. He went to say something but muffled voices started to come from his ear piece.

“Sorry, it appears our time has been cut short for now. But don’t worry angel, I’ll be back as soon as I can be.” he said, placing a kiss on her lips before pulling her into a hug. Over his shoulder, (Y/n) watched as the woman from before quickly turned back to the painting in front of her, as if she wasn’t just staring at her. Perhaps it had been her imagination? Giving him one last smile she waved as the tall man began to walk away.

Curiosity began to get the best of her, leading her to walk across the room to the woman. Looking at the painting she saw that it was indeed a beautiful painting! It showcased many people inside some sort of marble lookout point, gazing upon the sea. A gasp left her lips at the attention to detail, the wet appearance of the water, the reflection of the sun. Despite it not moving like the ones she was used to, she found that it didn’t need to be. The woman standing next to her gave her a side glance, a look on her face that she didn’t notice.

“Ti piace il dipinto?(“Do you like the painting?”)” the woman asked her, a mischievous look on her face. Gisele knew that the girl was sheltered just from her appearance. She wasn’t nearly as traveled as herself so there was no way for her to know even an inkling of what she had just asked her.

(Y/n) blinked at her, pondering what the woman had asked her before nodding. “È bellissimo. L'attenzione ai dettagli è incredibile! Non ho mai visto niente del genere.(“It's beautiful. The attention to detail is incredible! I've never seen anything like it!”)” she looked at the woman as she choked slightly, a concerned look on her face.

“You speak italian?” she asked in an offended tone, an unreadable look on her face. (Y/n) shrugged some, continuing to look at the painting.

“Not quite. I’ve only been learning for a few days. My boy- er, friend taught me but he says I’m a quick learner! I’m sorry if my translation was a bit off.” she said, offering the woman a kind smile. The woman’s eye twitched at the information, growling slightly. But, she remembered she had some “information” of her own.

“You mean Neville?” the strange woman asked, causing her to look up. She nodded slowly, offering her another kind smile.

“Do you know him?” she asked.

“Know him? Ha!” she sighed dramatically, putting a freshly manicured hand over her ample chest. “We were practically married! He and I were seeing each other for such a long time. I’m assuming you’re dating then?” she smirked to herself, watching as the girl shook her head no. “No? Well I guess that isn’t too shocking. I mean, why date a knock off when the real thing is still available. Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Gisele Bardot, Europe’s one and only top model.” (Y/n) felt her throat grow tight as she swallowed harshly. Neville had never once brought up Gisele to her. In fact, he had even gone as far as to say he hadn’t dated anyone, saving his heart for her.

“Knock off? What do you mean?” she asked her innocently, blinking back the tears that were threatening to form. Perhaps it was a simple misunderstanding. However, Gisele’s cackle of a laugh told her otherwise.

“Oh honey, are you really that naive? Look at you, you’re a lesser version of myself. Do you really think that’s a coincidence?” she stated as if it was a face. She took the time to look at Gisele and realized she was right. Gisele had all the same features of her, but better. Higher cheekbones, fuller lips, her hair was healthier. And when it came to her body? (Y/n) could only dream of a chest as nice as hers with a stomach so flat, so toned. Was it a coincidence or was Neville really using her as a replacement for what he couldn’t have. “Poor thing, anyone with eyes could see-”

“Could see what?” Twyla seethed, placing an arm around her shoulder as she walked up to the two. (Y/n) felt relieved from the familiar face, wiping the tears that had fallen from her eyes, much to her efforts of trying to get them to not do so. “What business do you have with my friend?”

“We were just chatting! Right..” her eyes widened at the fact she didn’t know the girl’s name. Twyla smirked, giving her an expectant look.

“Go on, what’s her name?” Twyla asked in a fake concerned tone. As the model stood there gaping, mouth opening and closing like a fish, the blonde scoffed, grabbing (Y/n) as she dragged her off.

“Come on (Y/n), we don’t associate with trash. Especially not trash wearing grandma’s pearls and perfume.” she turned around once more, looking her up and down. “It’s a good thing you’re a model because you sure don’t know how to dress.” and with that they were off, walking out to the garden of the museum. When they got there, the taller girl looked at the (e/c) eyed girl, a concerned look present on her face. “What was that? I don’t like her, she gives me bad vibes. Not like, sinister, just...petty. I’ve seen her in those magazines and stuff. What’s her name? Gizette?”

“Gisele. Apparently she was Neville’s....Neville’s ex girlfriend.” tears began to fall from her eyes as she sobbed softly, falling forward into her friend’s chest. Without hesitation, the blonde wrapped her arms around her, hugging her close. “She essentially said that I’m just a replacement for the real thing which is her and, it must be true! I mean just look at her, she’s gorgeous Twyla! Runway gorgeous. She’s an international model and I’m..I’m just me.”

“Oh honey, I hate to ruin this heart to heart, actually this is an awful heart to heart, but she’s definitely lying! I’ve seen the way Neville looks at you and so has everyone else. I’ve got this feeling that he’s lying and you know me with my feelings, they’re always right.” (Y/n) looked up at her, sniffling some as Twyla wiped at her runny makeup with her tissue. “Plus, that easily could be the other way around. How do you know she wasn’t just a replacement for you?” she froze at her words. She was right, it very well could be the other way around. How would she know unless she asked? As if she read her mind, the next words aligned with her thoughts perfectly. “You know, there’s only one thing to do.”

“Ask him about it?” she gulped at the thought. Neville had been nothing but kind to her since they reconnected. She had nothing to be scared about. Whether it was learning the truth or Neville himself she feared she didn’t know. Or, at least she didn’t wanna admit which one it was.

“Oh..I was gonna say find this bitch and replace her shampoo with nair. You know, maybe even give her some of that tea my aunt gave to her husband.” Twyla shrugged, leaning back some with a sigh. “Buut, that’s good too.”

(Y/n) gave the girl a questionable look. “Twy….didn’t your aunt use that tea to kill her husband?” the girl nodded, sitting up as she dusted herself off.

“Yeah. Your point?” Before she could respond, Neville came running up to the two of them with a smile. As he placed a peck on her lips, she gave him a weak smile.

“Hi, love. I missed you.” he said, a dopey lovesick smile on his face. He cleared his throat, ears tinted cheeks. “I-I was wonderin’ if uh, you’d like to go on a date with me tomorrow. You know, after the mission.” her eyes widened as she felt her face grow fuzzy. A date? She was sure he had something worse to say, especially after the fiasco from earlier. ‘Gisele must’ve not been able to find him.’

“I’d love to! I’ve never been on a date before.” she answered honestly, giving him a smile. “I can’t wait.” he looked surprised as she accepted, picking her up as he spun her around before setting her back down gently. Placing a peck on her lips, he stroked her cheek.

“Fantastic. Oh I can’t wait. I’m going to spoil you on our date tomorrow,” he leaned near her ear, resting his hands on her rear, “And tonight too. How’s bout you sit on my face again, yeah?” she nodded shyly, looking down at their shoes. Neville chuckled some, walking away before another pair of men’s dress shoes stopped in front of her. Looking up she saw Seamus who gave her a small smile.

“Don’t worry mini boss, I kept that stupid woman away from him.” her eyes widened as she went to speak. “How’d I know? I could tell something was up and plus I saw her enter as we were leaving. Thought she’d try something. Whatever she said wasn’t true.” He patted her back (a bit too roughly..) as he offered her a thumbs up. “But, I know you’d still probably rather hear that from him.”

“You know Finnigan, for someone who acts so stupid you’re kinda smart sometimes.” Twyla said, giggling as she intertwined her hands with Draco. Draco offered her a nod to which she returned before beginning to walk off with the rest of them. She smiled when she saw Neville waiting for her by the door, hand outstretched with the same look he’d always give her. As they got in the car, she watched as the beautiful buildings passed them in the distance. It was then she decided.

She’d ask him, no matter how scared she was of the answer. Neville was sure to give her an honest one, but was it the one she wanted to hear?

PREVIOUS||NEXT

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#neville x reader #Neville Longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #mafia!neville #mafia!au

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j-morgan-fly · 3 years

Text

The Mockingbird has his way

So, this is a little something I have been working on. It's not full blown nor do I feel it ready to post on AO3, but I wanted to get it out there. I just wanted to write something where the Lords get called out, even if it's by manipulative Baelish, for abandoning and overlooking Sansa's claim and the role she played in ridding the North of the Bolton's.

___

“House Mormont remembers. The North remembers. We know no King, but the king in the North whose name is Stark,” the young Lady Mormont’s words held the power of her loyalty and conviction. She shamed the seasoned and weathered men, old and young, around her. A girl of eleven standing before them, speaking out for herself and her people with far more honor then any of them. It made Sansa smile for Lyanna Mormont reminded her terribly of Arya and she wished her sister were with them, prayed to the Old Gods she was alive somewhere out there and once news reached her about the Starks occupying Winterfell once more she might find her way safely home. She also smiled because she was happy for Jon.

She took his hand under the table, giving it a squeeze. He glanced at her, and her smile grew a little more. She was proud of him and she wanted him to know it. That he deserved these words of ankowledgment from their people. She was happy that despite his reservations in the beginning about taking back their home, he had fought with her, for their family and people and proved himself beyond a shadow of a doubt their fathers son. Bastard or no, Jon was a Stark to her, and now their lords were starting to see him the same way. As they should.

She could feel it in the air, soon, just in a moment they would rise and name him king. She had made sure of. When she realized Petyr’s plans, when he admitted his pretty dream to her under the Heart Tree, she knew what his scheme was and she had to put a stop to it.

She went to as many lords as she could before this great meeting, campaigning for Jon’s claim over her own. She was a woman after all, twice married to enemies of her family and she had seen already what they thought of her when she went to their keeps with Jon. It would not be a difficult thing for any of them to choose Jon over her when given the choice.

“Queen, you mean,” Sansa felt her throat get tight, her smile fell and she as well as the other lords turned to look at Little Finger. He stepped forward from where he stood in a shadow on the wall.

“The queen in the North whose name is Stark. Lady Sansa, who sits beside her bastard brother, is the rightful heir to the Northern Throne and Winterfell.”

The Knights of the Vale gave grunts of agreement and Lady Mormont's already naturally sour expression turned more so, her lips pressing into a thin line and her eyes narrowing on the Mockingbird as he spoke. “I and the Knights of the Vale rode North at the command of Lady Sansa’s cousin, Lord Robert Arryn, to fight and reclaim his cousin's childhood home and her birthright in her name. Not for Jon Snow.”

Sansa swallowed as Jon looked at her, questions in his eyes. She could see the accusation in his dark grey eyes. Was this her plan? Was this why she begged him to fight again? Why she kept him from going somewhere warm and peaceful? To help make her queen?

She shook her head. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t what she wanted at all. She had assumed Little Finger would act as a puppeteer, using bribed and convinced Northern Lords to speak up on her behalf, but ultimately they would be outnumbered by those who would see Jon as King. Little Finger was not a man to fight and argue his own battles, so he must feel truly desperate if he was speaking out for her.

“Unless, did King Robb change the laws of succession in the North before his tragic death?” he asked the lords in a whole. “Did King Robb send some document back North, signed by his hand, or is there a witness here to such a letter having ever been made by him before his death removing or displacing Lady Sansa from the succession of Winterfell and putting her claim below that of Jon Snow?”

They murmured to one another, discussing it briefly if any who had fought with her brother, who had managed to come home had seen or heard him plan such a thing in regards to succession should he fall. From there frowns it seemed the answer was no. All of Robb’s closest friends and advisors who might have been witness to such a document being made or at least planned, had died. Murdered with their King at the Twins.

“Not one of you can confirm from your time fighting with your king if he ever planned to disinherit or displace his sister, Lady Sansa, from the line of succession?” Little Finger asked, smirking. “Even after she was forced to marry the Imp?”

Sansa thought for a moment this was perfect, he made a mistake reminding them of her first marriage. It would put her loyalties into question, make the lords unsure of her just like how Lyanna Mormont questioned her when she came with Jon, asking for house Mormont to raise their banners and fight for the Starks once more. It had been humiliating and biting, she hated that her loyalty was in question, that she was seen as anything but the Stark that she was. But she didn’t want to be queen, she just wanted to go home, to free it from the monsters that lurked it’s halls and to feel safe again with her family.

In truth, she had not had detailed plan for the long run when she chose to continue pursuing Winterfell’s reclamation into Stark hands again. What she did know was that she would never bow to the Lannister's or anyone who wasn’t family again, but that did not mean she wished to be queen. She would have seen first what the lords desired and go from there. But she would not marry again. She knew at least Jon would support her in that.

If the Lords wanted freedom, then she would support them. She had lost too much family for their freedom, and she had bled as much as any man in battle since the start of the war. Since they took her fathers head and she would not let the pain and loss be for nothing. If they didn’t succeed in claiming Northern independence for themselves, then what was the point in any of it. Every loss would feel suddenly hollow, without meaning, pointless and she could not go on if that was the case. So she had to hold on to this, to the thing that so many had gave their lives fighting for, the reason she had beaten and sold. If she let go she would fall and never stop. So she would grip on tight, and she would keep fighting the battles to come the only way she knew how.

If the lords cried out for independence like she thought they might, then Jon could rule. He could marry despite the strange way the thought made her stomach clench, legitimize himself and produce heirs for house Stark and she would be a loyal sister, an advisor, helping him maneuver and defeat Cersei and someday Little Finger.

She would help rebuild Winterfell, manage it why he ruled, and one day, maybe she would heal enough to marry, to find a nice, simple man and settle down. Let herself have some peace and happiness. But first their was so much work to be done. And she could get more done as anything but a queen.

“As you say, my Lord, Lady Sansa was wed to the Imp. How can we trust that he did not corrupt her? And it is said she is the one who killed the bastard king at his own wedding.” the young Lord Cerwyn stood again to speak.

“And if she did, would you not commend her and say that she helped avenge her family, her brother and mother, the death of her beloved father, your Lord Eddard that Joffrey beheaded?” Little Finger asked.

“If you are questioning her loyalty to the Lannister’s then I think the example you have given is the answer. If she did murder Joffrey and then framed her Lannister husband than she most certainly is not loyal to them,”

“And what of Ramsay Bolton?” asked Lady Mormont, her scowl turning on Sansa.

She watched as Jon glared at Little Finger, having told him how she had come to be in the Bolton’s possession during her time as a refugee at the wall. The mockingbirds shoulders fell and he looked at Sansa with pained regret.

“That was my doing,” he admitted and the Lords in the room. “I was dear, childhood friend to Lady Sansa’s mother. I wanted to bring Cat’s daughter home. Support her claim as she would have if she had survived the Red Wedding.”

He shook his head and cast an accusing eye over the Northern Lords.

“I had hoped that I might help Sansa with a coup against the Bolton's. They thought I was an ally, but I was simply using them to help place Sansa back in her houses seat of power.” he begin to explain the plan, a plan Sansa had no knowledge of until now. “It was my belief that Northerners were more loyal then the rest of the men of Westeros and would come to Lady Sansa’s aide while I gathered allies in the Vale and Riverland's to take back and hold the North from the Bolton’s and Lannister's.”

He sighed then, the room falling silent, some with suspicion and others with guilt.

“Instead, our brave lady was let down by her own people and had to rescue herself with the help of a turn cloak. If only I had known the disrespectful disregard you would show the daughter of your liege lord I would never have brought Lady Sansa back North,”

No man or women in the room had a very good response, all mostly falling back on the excuse of how they believed Sansa’s loyalties to be with the Lannister’s, and that her marriage to one of their allies was her attempt to save her own neck after killing Joffrey in a jealous rage after being put aside for another woman. It hurt Sansa but she did not show it. She was steal cloaked in ice, her expression one of indifference rather than the pain she felt at her peoples words.

“I have heard enough!” Jon stood from his chair, the legs scraping the stone floor loudly. “How dare all of you question Sansa’s loyalty, while you sat in your castles with full knowledge of what Ramsay was capable of and what he had done to girls before her. Where was your loyalty to house Stark then?”

They grumbled but had no answer to give, heads bowed, some glaring, frustrated to be called out as they were, to be told they were disloyal and dishonorable.

Sansa felt her heart flutter in her chest, growing warm at his defense of her. “My sister was a hostage, a prisoner of the Lannister’s to be used against our brother and the North. I will not let you ignore her and brush her aside as I have seen you do up till now any longer.”

“As much as I am honored by what Lady Lyanna was suggesting, Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa. She is the one who wanted to fight for Winterfell when I wanted to runaway, go somewhere warm, far from winter and wars. She is a true Northerner and she is Robb’s heir, your queen in the North.”

Sansa wanted to scream. No. No, she didn’t want this.

She looked imploringly at Jon, but he took her expression for something else, smiling at her.

Stop, you fool, you have no idea what your doing. Your playing right into his hands. This is what he wants.

He took her hand and guided her to a stand beside him, his hand slipping to grasp her risk and holding her arm above her head.

“The Queen in the North!” he announced to the whole room and Sansa felt her heart stop when she met Little Fingers eye.

“The Queen in the North,” he repeated, lowering to one knee for her. The lords looked at one another before slowly men rose, unsheathing their swords and raising them in the air, repeating her new title until the whole room was chanting it.

Sansa closed her eyes and a tear slipped down her cheek.

#jonsa #ficlet #sansa stark #qitn #queen Sansa #asoiaf #game of thrones

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smoaking-greenarrow · 3 years

Text

If I Tremble chapter 21: Clutch

Rated M

(Gif)

“Do you think in another life, or on one of those other earths...you could’ve been a mechanic?”

Oliver paused for a moment, and then continued adjusting the gear on his motorcycle, not turning around. His hands and shirt were covered in grease from the engine. It was late.

He was tired.

And he was sad.

Tomorrow, he’d have to say goodbye to his beloved bike. The same one that had helped him escape some risky missions unscathed. Carried him through high speed chases with criminals. But most importantly, the bike held some of his fondest memories. And all of those fond memories involved Felicity pressed against him somehow.

Oliver had owned this motorcycle when he first met her. He could still remember the first time she got on it and how good it had been just to feel her there.

It was dark and raining. They’d just had a long day at Queen Consolidated; the kind of day where he was irritable and snappy with Felicity and she’d given it right back to him. They took a short cease-fire in their snide back and forth so they could go home, eat dinner, and get ready for another night of vigilante business. But the break hadn’t done either of them any good. They were still at each other’s throats by the time they met up with Digg at the lair. Unfortunately, it was also a quiet night on the streets, so Oliver and Felicity had nothing to do but bicker.

After a few hours of it, they finally decided to call it a night. Or rather, after Diggle got sick of playing the middleman, he called it a night for all of them.

But then Felicity’s car wouldn’t start. Digg had already left, so Oliver offered to drive her home. Because of course he wasn’t going to leave her stranded in the Glades. No matter how much she tested his patience on a daily basis, he knew that he cared about her. A lot.

And Felicity accepted the ride, not knowing that he’d brought his bike that night.

Oliver tossed his leg over the seat, unable to hide his smirk as she gaped at him. He’d wondered, once or twice, or maybe more often than he was ready to admit...what it would be like to have Felicity on the back of his motorcycle.

“Hop on, Miss Smoak,” he offered her the helmet, his voice thick and his eyes trained on her.

Her mouth hung open and she shook her head.

Hesitant little thing.

Felicity had never been on a motorcycle. Which he knew. The first time she’d seen his bike, she’d told him as much. And she’d informed him that she had no desire to ever be on one. To be fair, she’d also seen the way he drove, so her fear wasn’t entirely misplaced. He could see it in her eyes that she wanted to change her mind. That she wanted to find another way home. But after the tension they’d been sharing all day? Felicity wasn’t about to back down to him.

So she climbed on the back, grumbling to herself about the bus stop a few streets away.

As if he was ever going to leave her at a bus stop alone.

He took his time getting to her apartment, driving slow, making sure she felt safe and sound.

To his amusement, Felicity loved it.

When they finally reached her home and he helped her off the bike, Felicity was smiling ear to ear. And he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he got her on his motorcycle.

It became sort of a goal for him, actually.

He started taking his bike every day in the hopes that she might need a ride.

Even as the broken man he was back then, it had felt right to have Felicity there with him. That first night and every night after it. The countless rides with her, all while he’d been falling in love.

Granted, ever since Mia was born, it had mostly been collecting dust in their garage, but it still held a sentimental value that made it hard for Oliver to let go of it.

“Mechanics are pretty sexy,” Felicity hummed, pulling him back to the moment.

Oliver turned around to look at her, letting out a sigh as he grabbed a rag off the floor and wiped his hands. “And men who have daughters and sensible cars...they’re not sexy?”

Felicity made a face, lifting her hand to wave the baby monitor she’d brought from Mia’s room. “Oh no, trust me. The loving dad to a little girl thing is...very sexy.”

Oliver huffed out a laugh, giving his bike another glance. It was in better shape than it had been a couple of days ago. After taking the time to fix it up, it was ready to ride again.

Selling it was a better plan than hoarding it in the garage, after all.

“What about an exhausted mom who has sore boobs because her daughter has an incredibly demanding appetite?” Felicity cocked her head to the side, “Or a woman who had to change her clothes because that same daughter just hurled all over her? Super sexy, right?”

Laughing, Oliver shook his head. “You’re always sexy. Trust me.”

“Well,” Felicity moved down the steps into the garage, setting the baby monitor on the shelf near the door. “You didn’t see the mess your child made of my favorite sweater. She chugged that bottle like a college frat boy and then threw up like one, too.”

“She still hasn’t learned that lesson?” Oliver stood up, finally getting a good look at his wife as she came closer. She was barefoot, her legs exposed, because she wasn’t wearing anything but a t-shirt. His t-shirt.

“Like father, like daughter...” Felicity mumbled back, smiling as she stopped in front of him.

He gulped, leaning against the seat of the bike as his eyes raked down her body. His wife gently nudged his legs apart, stepping between them. Then she leaned in, pressing her lips against his ear. “You know,” she whispered, her arms winding around his neck, “we had some good times on this motorcycle. Remember Coast City?”

Oliver’s eyes closed on instinct, the feel of her body and the sound of her voice doing a number on him already. “Of course I remember,” he groaned, nuzzling her cheek.

It was a few months after they came back to Starling. They’d been missing Ivy Town and the summer they spent together, so they’d decided to take a weekend trip to Coast City. On the bike. “That night I took you out to dinner…” Oliver grinned, his voice low, his chest pressed to hers.

“You parked in the alley behind the restaurant.”

“And for some reason, you wanted me to teach you how to drive this thing.”

Oliver couldn’t see her face, but he felt her shiver.

He remembered, very vividly, how he’d put Felicity in front of him on the motorcycle, her hands on the gears, his on top of hers as he sat behind her. “I thought I did a pretty good job,” Felicity chuckled.

She’d only driven it from the mouth of the alley to the end of it once before she stopped the bike and started grinding her ass against him. Which led them to a very heated make out session until Felicity finally insisted that he take her back to the hotel immediately, and Oliver did his best to obey all the speed limits to get there while ignoring a massive boner.

“I guess our days of being spontaneous are kind of over,” Oliver sighed regretfully. As much as he loved being a father, there was a part of him that missed that time in their lives. The freedom of it. The adventure of every day with her. An open road in front of them that could take them anywhere they wanted to be.

And god, did they explore together.

In many different senses of the word.

Felicity shrugged, pushing his leg aside so she could climb onto the motorcycle. “Says who?”

“Uh...the baby who wakes us up two or three times a night?”

She rolled her eyes, “Mia’s sleeping. Let’s say goodbye to this old thing...the best way we know how.”

With a smirk, Oliver climbed onto the motorcycle behind her.

It wasn’t something that he’d ever admit to anyone, especially not the young gentleman who they sold the bike to…but Felicity knew her way around the machine, despite the fact that she’d never driven it outside of that alley in Coast City. She knew where everything was because they’d done... other things on this bike.

Of course, the new owner didn’t need to know that. And he definitely didn’t need to know the details of those things they did.

There had been nights. Dangerous missions and life-threatening encounters. Close calls and moments where one of them thought they might lose the other. Nights when Felicity had been insatiable and Oliver had needed her just as badly, the spark between them full of desperation and relief. Impossible to deny. Nights where they’d needed each other but had nowhere to go, so they got creative.

Having sex on his motorcycle wasn’t really something that they could just do once and then not want to do again.

He’d be lying if he said it was a one time thing.

Wrapping his arms around Felicity, reminded of those moments and how it felt back then, Oliver pressed himself against her back and buried his face in the crook of her neck. His hands slid slowly over her stomach, skimming down her thighs as he started to kiss her ear. Then he moved one hand to her hip, pulling her back against him. He ground his hips forward at the same time, and Felicity groaned when she felt his hardening length rubbing against her ass.

Silently, he slipped his other hand up her side, barely letting himself touch her breast before he flattened his palm on her chest, his fingers curling lightly around her throat. Just the right pressure to make her shiver. “Oliver,” she mewled.

He dragged his lips to her shoulder, pushing the fabric of his shirt out of the way. He only let go of her when she began to roll her body on her own. Keeping his grip on her neck, Oliver dipped his other hand underneath the shirt, kneading one of her breasts.

Felicity plastered herself to him like she couldn’t get close enough, a low cry escaping her mouth. She dropped her head against his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to kiss her. His tongue demanded entrance, which she easily welcomed.

Oliver could feel her pulse thrumming under his fingertips, her skin getting warmer under his palm.

Her breath grew shallow as his mouth ravished hers.

God. Damn.

It didn’t surprise him anymore how quickly and how thoroughly his wife could turn him on. But it still amazed him. She was letting go, grinding her ass against his cock, and he was practically seeing stars.

Not wasting any time, Oliver leaned over, fumbling to find the keys while Felicity was too distracted to notice. When he turned the keys and started the engine, she gasped at the unexpected sound.

The bike purred to life, vibrating beneath them. Felicity’s hips jerked in response, finding friction.

Oliver kissed her harder. “Turn around,” he growled into her mouth. “Felicity, come here.”

She scrambled to spin around on the seat, nearly falling, but his firm hands guided her movements until she was facing him. Then Felicity hummed as she wrapped her legs around him, the noise mixing with the steady buzz from the motorcycle.

Her hands were on his jeans a moment later, nails digging into his thighs and then his hips. Then she reached for the button of his pants, snapping them open quickly. Felicity moaned as she slipped her hand inside, rubbing him over his boxers, feeling the length of him as he hardened beneath her palm.

Oliver lifted his hips; one arm branded around Felicity’s body as he did his best to pull his pants down. He could barely get them over his ass while he was straddling the bike, but it was enough that Felicity could free his cock.

His jeans were painfully tight around his legs, but as he settled back down on the bike, Felicity started grinding her hips down on him. He groaned in approval as her wet underwear rubbed up and down on his erection.

Felicity rocked her hips against him, her breath catching every time the head of his cock would slip between her folds. And Oliver tried to control his own breathing, his face buried in her throat; her familiar, delicious scent filling his nose.

He was vaguely aware that the garage door was wide open, which left him with the sense of being exposed and vulnerable, despite the fact that no one came to the cabin aside from John, Donna, and Thea.

None of which were expected for a visit tonight.

So the dirt road and sunset ahead was private. Safe, of course. Yet it still provided a thrill behind their actions; the feeling that they were somewhat in public.

“Is the monitor on?” Oliver couldn’t help but ask. His last shred of control.

Felicity gave him a quick, short nod as she pointed to the baby monitor on the shelf.

With the lungs Mia had, they both knew they’d hear it if she did happen to wake up…

“Fuck, Felicity,” he huffed out a breath, giving in to the incredible feeling of doing this with her. Again.

For the last time.

Fuck.

Oliver shoved his hand between them, yanking her underwear to the side and dipping his fingers between her soaked folds.

She was so damn wet.

He bit his tongue to keep from cursing again.

It made it easier that he knew exactly how to get Felicity going. How to really turn her on. Quickly. Because he was certain that as much as he wanted to take his time, he wasn’t going to last very long. He never did when a situation involved his motorcycle and his hot wife. Although this time, at least, there were no life-threatening missions to urge them on.

There was just her.

And god was he desperate for her.

Pushing his fingers inside, Oliver let Felicity set the pace; keeping his fingers straight, curving them to hit the spot deep inside that made her cry out for him.

Each time she thrusted down, her walls would squeeze his fingers tight and his hand would press against her clit.

Oliver ignored his aching cock, begging to be touched, in favor of watching Felicity.

He loved the way she moaned his name.

Loved the way she rode him.

Loved her.

It didn’t take long before her breath on his cheek became shallow. Her fingers pulled on his hair and her legs tightened around his waist, the vibrations of the bike coursing through him and straight to her.

And with one final roll of her hips, Felicity stiffened. She choked on her next breath. Her grip on his hair was hard, making him grit his teeth.

“Oh god,” she whimpered in his ear. “Right there, right there. Yes!”

Oliver straightened his fingers, moving them in and out as fast as he could while Felicity came.

Her legs tightened, shaking around him. Her head fell back, her breath catching.

He finally eased up, coaxing her down from her orgasm as he slowed his movements down, then carefully pulled his fingers out. He brought them to his mouth, and Felicity leaned back to watch him lick them clean.

With a smirk, Oliver tilted his head, his mouth meeting hers.

Felicity’s lips were slow to kiss him back, a sweet sigh falling from them. Oliver sucked on her bottom lip, his hands gliding down her back until he reached her ass. And he kissed her harder, squeezing the flesh, tugging her closer.

Her hips were already starting to move again, seeking friction.

Oliver smiled, giving her ass a light smack.

That’s my girl.

Felicity gasped, her mouth breaking from his while her body instinctively surged closer.

But when he went to kiss her again, she turned her head, letting his lips land on her cheek. With a pout, Oliver trailed kisses along her jaw, stopping at her chin. “What’s wrong?” He mumbled against her skin.

She didn’t answer right away, so he moved lower, licking and sucking a path across her throat. Felicity shivered, arching her back for the briefest moment, but pulled away as soon as he started to press his face between her breasts.

“Felicity?” Oliver frowned, holding her tighter.

Looking up at her, he saw the smile on her face; her lips swollen and red from his beard, her skin flushed, her eyes wide with pleasure. She shook her head once, moving to get off of him and the bike, and this time he let her. Felicity climbed down, using his hand for balance, then she nudged him to get up, too.

Once she had him on his feet, Felicity hooked her fingers through his belt loops and dropped to her knees, taking his pants along with her.

She took his cock in one of her hands, grasping him tightly. She smiled at him with those swollen lips. Stared up at him with those wide eyes. And Oliver instantly groaned, his hips snapping to meet her hand. His hands reached for her head, wanting nothing more than to dive his fingers into her hair and hold on while she did whatever she wanted with him.

But Felicity had other ideas. Her hand flattened against his stomach, “Sit,” she demanded, pushing him back until he fell onto the motorcycle.

‘Oh, fuck,” he huffed as he landed on the seat, the vibrations hitting his backside. But before he could get his bearings back, Felicity’s mouth was on him.

She nipped at his chest, scraped her teeth over one of his nipples, licked her way down to his stomach. And by the time she kissed the tip of his cock, he was already feeling lightheaded. Glancing down at her, he ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face so he could see her better. Felicity met his eyes as she swirled her tongue around the head. Oliver sucked in a breath at the sensation, struggling to keep still.

God, he was sensitive.

Felicity grabbed his waist, holding herself steady with her nails digging in. Slowly, she took him between her lips. Inch by inch, he disappeared into her warm, wet, perfect mouth.

Until she had all of him.

Oliver instantly cried out as she swiped her tongue along the underside of his cock, jerking inside her mouth.

He could feel her throat constricting around him. Her teeth gently scraping his length. Her eyes watching him, blinking back some slight moisture as she pulled back and took a deep breath. Then she did it again, taking every inch of him. And again. Always stopping to swallow when her lips reached his balls, making his breath catch as she tightened her throat around him. Felicity kept her movements slow, which she knew drove him crazy in all of the best ways.

When she changed pace, focusing on his head while her hand stroked up and down his shaft, Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, pleasure washing over him. The intensity of the bike rumbling beneath him and the things she was doing with her mouth...it was almost too much. He didn’t realize he was rocking his hips towards her until he heard Felicity moan.

Slowly, he opened his eyes again to look down at her. She hummed, giving him a nod of approval. “Oh my god, Felicity,” he grit through his teeth, snapping his hips again. Every time he pushed into her mouth, she’d swirl her tongue around him. And every time he pulled out of her mouth, he’d lean back against the bike and feel the vibrations of the motorcycle, coursing straight to his balls, making his pleasure skyrocket.

He could feel his own orgasm coming as fast and as hard as Felicity’s had, and it was beyond tempting to let his body follow it. But Oliver leaned back, holding her head steady as he pulled out of her mouth with a loud pop.

Felicity furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Her lips, that were even more swollen now, pouted up at him.

He sighed, both in regret and anticipation. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that being buried inside Felicity’s mouth when he came would be incredible. But he really wanted to be buried somewhere else. Oliver stood up again, helping Felicity to her feet. Then he gave her an ardent, slow kiss.

Felicity moaned into his mouth, and he kissed her harder as he tasted himself on her tongue.

Their eyes met again, each of them smiling. Oliver gently tapped his index finger to her nose, making her giggle.

God, she knew what that sound did to him.

It was a laugh that quickly faded when he grabbed her waist and spun her around. Taking a moment to admire the view in front of him, he pressed his palm against her lower back and guided her to bend over.

Felicity did so willingly, her breaths ragged.

Without a word, Oliver clutched onto her hips, gently kicking her feet apart, spreading her legs. He lined himself up at her entrance, and Felicity gripped onto the seat of the bike.

As he started to push into her, Felicity tossed her hips back, making him moan as he filled her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking, and Oliver let out a breathless chuckle in return. His hands skimmed up her back, his fingers dragging, until he could grip her shoulders. Her smile fell when he pulled out, and she moaned his name when he thrusted back in.

Oliver kept his pace slow, a careful force behind his thrusts, since he knew that the motorcycle couldn’t take too much pressure. But it was more than enough.

As he felt his orgasm begin to build again, he shifted his weight over Felicity, pushing his hand between her body and the bike. And it only took a moment to find the right angle; his fingers working quick circles on her clit as the bike pulsed under them.

Felicity came with a shout, her hands flying to his arm, anchoring herself.

And Oliver followed right behind, spilling inside of her while his body folded over hers.

The motorcycle muffled their cries, the throbbing machine making everything feel more intense.

As he came back to his senses, Oliver lifted his hand from Felicity’s shoulder, keeping the other pressed against her clit, and reached over to turn the engine off. Listening to each of their heavy breaths, Oliver kissed Felicity’s shoulder, every patch of skin that he could reach without having to move.

“Having any second thoughts about selling this thing?” He mumbled against her back.

Felicity laughed, nudging him until he moved off of her. “Was this your way of trying to get me to keep it?”

He slipped out of her with a groan. “Honestly, no. But if you want me to do some more convincing, I’m all for it.”

“I’ll always love the bike...” Felicity shook her head, “But no. It’s always been more about you than the bike.”

He smiled at that, agreeing with the sentiment completely. Everything that he’d just felt had been entirely Felicity’s doing.

“That’s true,” he sighed, noticing that her legs were shaking when she tried to stand, and he quickly moved to pick her up. “I already know how easily you can get me wound up. Basically anytime you want.

“And anywhere,” Felicity grinned as he carried her towards the house, grabbing the baby monitor from the shelf as they passed.

Oliver turned the light off while Felicity pushed the button to close the garage door, each of them giving the motorcycle one last loving, appreciative look. “It may be ‘goodbye’ to the bike,” he whispered in her ear. “But I’m sure that we have a lifetime of thrills ahead of us still.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow, “I’m willing to bet you’re right.”

#Arrow #Olicity #olicity fic #If I Tremble #olicity fanfic #Oliver Queen #Felicity Smoak

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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Physical Fatality Part 13- Icarus

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warning for very slight suicidal themes this fic has a happy ending I swear

Masterlist

Agony.

Losing you is agony.

Endeavor is lecturing him for pulling the stunt with Bakugo earlier that day but he can’t hear or really process any of it when all he can think about is the fact you’ve blocked his number and seem to want nothing to do with him. He vaguely registers words of “I told you so” and “I warned you” and even a word or two about a demotion but none of it matters. Hawks doesn’t know how to do anything but be a hero. It’s been the driving force behind a lot of the choices he’s made in your relationship and he knows it’s the same for you, but that doesn’t make any of this easier.

“You’re going to have to work really hard to earn my trust back Hawks and the trust of your coworkers,” Endeavor warns. “Understood,” Hawks replies, his voice almost detached. It seems to disconcert Endeavor, the other man being far more accustomed to the snarky Hawks persona than the serious man in front of him now. “Hawks, uhm, do you,” Endeavor stutters suddenly unsure. He coughs to cover his discomfort and clears his throat before resuming. “Do you need to talk about what happened between you and Artemis?” he finally manages to ask. He looks so deeply uncomfortable potentially talking about the subject and his discomfort only grows when Hawks continues to give him nothing back. “That won’t be necessary,” Hawks replies before turning and walking out of the office. If Hawks doesn’t know how to live without hero work, Keigo doesn’t know how to live without you. So his only option is to abandon Keigo until the pain stops.

He can’t have slept more than a handful of hours that night but he still wakes up early the next morning to run an extra patrol before his normally scheduled one. He files paperwork, even revisits old cases, all in a bid to keep you off his mind. Of course it’s not enough to stop his coworkers from whispering. Typically he ignores the gossip of the lower ranking heroes but it’s hard when he knows they’re speculating about you and him. It certainly doesn’t help that your break up was so public and now it feels like nearly all of Japan has watched the video of it happening. Hawks used to be the darling of Endeavor’s agency, beloved by all of his coworkers. Now he’s practically a pariah.

His new outcast status is only made more obvious at the cocktail party later that day. He’d wanted to skip it entirely, the fact you were supposed to be his plus one to the event made it all the more unappealing, but he’s already skating on thin ice and had no legitimate excuse to justify his absence. So instead he watches the other heroes talk and drink and laugh about things while he hides in the corner, too exhausted and heartbroken to put up the persona necessary to maintain conversation. No one seems to ask about him anyway or even care what he thinks despite the fact it’s his personal life that’s become the hottest topic in all of Japan. He wonders if this is how Icarus felt as he plummeted to the earth. Hawks had flown too close to your light and warmth and now he’s fallen from grace. He wonders if it’s true that Icarus laughed as he fell. If so he can empathize. As painful as this fall is, he would live it over and over if it meant he could catch even a glimpse of you again.

When Shoto comes to join him it’s literally the first genuine interaction he’s had all day. “You look like shit,” Shoto comments by way of greeting. “Thanks. Feel like it too,” Hawks replies. He doesn’t have to pretend with Shoto and for that he’s grateful. “Are you ok?” Shoto asks. “Even though I’ve always hated these things I was always so good at them,” Hawks starts in response. “I’d talk, drink, laugh just like everyone’s doing, be the center of attention, play the part of the charming number two hero. And look at me now. I’m so fucking anxious about what they’ll say about me, about her, about us and what happened that I can’t have a proper fucking conversation. I used to be on fire and now I’m standing in the ashes of who I used to be and I’m just fading away. Without her I’m fading away. I’m just as pathetic as she said,” Keigo confesses and it’s a weight off but it also makes the hollow space behind his ribs where you used to live feel all the more prominent. “This right here is kind of pathetic,” Shoto starts, earning him a shocked almost laugh from the other man, “but you are not pathetic Hawks. I think (y/n) knows that, she’s just hurting. Rightfully so. The bullshit with the others in the agency will get better too.” “I don’t know about that one.” “You’re not the only one who’s done dumb or bad shit. Not by a long shot.” “Really?” “You know Iida?” Shoto asks, pointing to the man in question as he obliviously continues his conversation with one of the others present. “Yea. Your year at UA, stickler for the rules. What about him?” Hawks asks. “He chose his internship our first year with the sole intention of trying to hunt down and kill Stain to avenge his brother.” “Really? That guy?” “Yep. My dad isn’t so innocent either: quirk marriage, child abuse, oh the stories I could tell you.” “Jesus Christ.” “Exactly. Everyone has their own shit Hawks. This will pass and hopefully you and (y/n) can find your ways back to each other when it does.”

Shortly after Todoroki finishes speaking his phone rings and he frowns down in confusion when he notices it’s Bakugo calling him. “I didn’t think we had task force business today,” Shoto says as he answers the phone. “We don’t. Is Hawks there with you?” Bakugo asks, his tone betraying his worry. “Yea he is.” “Shit.” “What’s going on Bakugo?” “It’s about (y/n),” Bakugo admits and Shoto’s eyes widen. He casts a look at Hawks before finally deciding to drag the other man with him to an empty office on the floor they’re currently on. He locks the door behind them and then pops his phone on speaker. “Ok you’re on speaker with me and Hawks what’s going on with (y/n)?” Shoto asks, his voice remaining calm. “All Might fired her last night so she was supposed to come in this morning and collect her stuff except instead she pretty much just threw everything away. I came back to patrol and found out she’d left Midoriya and I little gifts on our desk which was weird, so I hit up her roommates and apparently she never went home after she swung by here. I thought she and Hawks may have run off together but if he’s with you...” Bakugo explains. “Maybe she’s just clearing her head or something,” Shoto suggests. “No way. The whole of Japan is gossiping about her right now, the last thing she’d want is to be out in public,” Bakugo quickly refutes. “Was there anything else off about your desks? Drawers opened?” Hawks asks. “Maybe, I wasn’t paying that much attention. Why?” Bakugo asks. “Your task force notes still there?” Hawks asks in lieu of an answer. Hawks and Shoto wait with baited breath as they hear the sound of Bakugo moving around and then opening a desk drawer. “Nope, they’re gone,” Bakugo finally reports back. “Thought so. (Y/n) wouldn’t just roll over and kiss her career goodbye, she’s probably trying to take out the terrorist cell herself and use it as leverage to get her job back,” Hawks deduces. “Alone? That’s a suicide mission,” Shoto says. “Hence the gifts on the desks,” Hawks replies grimly. “Most of our notes are over there with you guys though,” Bakugo points out. As if on cue an alarm starts blaring overhead warning of an intruder. “That’s gotta be her,” Hawks says. “I’m on my way, hold her there so we can talk some sense into that idiot,” Bakugo tells them before promptly hanging up the phone.

Hawks has to give credit where credit is due. As foolhardy as your plan is, it’s incredibly well executed. As a former member of the guest list, you would’ve known everyone would be occupied with the cocktail party on one of the lower floors, far away from where the files you need are. The elevators will take forever with so many people trying to all get upstairs which only leaves the stairs, which are marginally better but still relatively slow. You must have spent most of the night planning this out. That thought fills Hawks with a certain amount of dread. You’re probably emotional and sleep deprived on your way to take on an entire villain group yourself all in a desperate bid to save your career. It almost sounds ludicrous. Yet, as Hawks races to the top floor in hopes of catching you, all he can think of is something you’d once told him during happier times, late at night as you two were wrapped up in each other:

“Honestly Kei? I’d rather die a hero than live long enough to prove those stupid reporters right about me.”

Author’s Note: Does this still count as a double update if I’m posting the second one after midnight 💀 anyway I can’t believe how quickly I was able to get this chapter out. The image of Hawks standing in the corner of a massive company party feeling like a shell of himself is actually a large part of what sold me on writing this fic for him. The song this chapter correlates to just felt so right for his character that I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. I thought about waiting to post this until later tomorrow today? but I’m ✨impatient✨ so instead y’all get it now

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #cw suicide mention #tw suicide mention

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swanlake1998 · 3 years

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Article: What Makes It So Difficult to Diversify Ballet Faculties?

Date: February 17, 2021

By: Theresa Ruth Howard

The lack of Black ballet teachers in professional training programs has long been known to be a weakness holding the field back from true inclusivity. The common refrain of "We can't find them" might have been plausible before, given the scarcity of professional Black ballet dancers. Yet suddenly, qualified candidates are springing up. (Perhaps the world being on fire smoked them out?) To quote choreographer William Isaac, "There seems to be an arms race to hire Black ballet teachers."

Last fall, the schools of Boston Ballet, Pacific Northwest Ballet and San Francisco Ballet, as well as the School of American Ballet, all welcomed new, full-time Black ballet teachers. To be fair, some of these hires had been in the works for a few years. But what's kept ballet faculties so white for so long?

With a culture akin to country clubs and Ivy League schools, ballet acts like an old boys' network; it's about who you know, and to know the right people, you have to occupy certain spaces. It is cyclic: Access and opportunity creates access and opportunity. That has historically kept the circle quite tight, and white. The common requirement of a certain pedigree and artistic lineage among faculty members has perpetuated a deficit of Black ballet teachers. These additions to the top ballet training programs are a step in the right direction.

School of American Ballet: Aesha Ash

Over a shared history of more than seven decades, New York City Ballet and SAB have maintained the purity of their bloodline with the company hiring almost exclusively from its school, and the school from NYCB alums. That makes diversification of the SAB faculty difficult, since the company has welcomed a total of 32 Black dancers, including 13 current members. Aesha Ash, who joins fellow Black NYCB alum Craig Hall on faculty this year, fits the criteria: "She's a spectacular teacher, she's an SAB alum, a City Ballet alum and understands Mr. Balanchine's aesthetic," says SAB chairman of faculty Kay Mazzo.

For Ash, this is an opportunity to be something she needed when she was a student at the school. "I think about the loneliness and isolation I felt," she says. "If my presence makes one little girl feel validated, my job is done."

There now seems to be a realization that hiring solely from NYCB's ranks inhibits the possibility of true diversification. "We have two visiting faculty chairs this year, Leyland Simmons and Alicia Holloway, both SAB alums, but they didn't dance in City Ballet, so this is a first," says Mazzo. The school also plans to engage participants from SAB's National Visiting Fellows Program, which invites ballet teachers with diverse student populations to teach and observe classes, discuss SAB's curriculum, and engage in dialogue around pedagogy techniques, school management and other topics twice a year. Since 2015 the program has accepted numerous Black teachers. "With our national visiting fellows as guest teachers in the future, we will be opening doors," says Mazzo. "It's no longer the model that Mr. Balanchine and Lincoln Kirstein started."

Boston Ballet School: Andrea Long-Naidu

Boston Ballet School's hiring of Andrea Long-Naidu has a similar thread of lineage. Director Margaret Tracey is a former NYCB principal, and danced there alongside Long-Naidu. "Andrea was a really intelligent dancer in her technical approach. She was incredibly musical and really fast, could learn choreography really quickly," Tracey recalls. She could see those elements in some of Long-Naidu's students who had been accepted into BBS.

Long-Naidu is highly pedigreed: A one-time student of Lupe Serrano (the former American Ballet Theatre star who directed Pennsylvania Ballet's school), she studied at SAB, and is an NYCB alum and former Dance Theatre of Harlem principal. Tracey told her, "Look, you are going to fit in professionally with your expertise automatically. You're going to come into a circle, and a team of people who have a shared background with you."

For Long-Naidu, who comes to BBS from Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet, this is a dream. She will be teaching a wide range of levels, from children to the second company. "To be in a school where you know that you can directly affect the look of that company is amazing," she says. "For me, as a teacher, to get them from point A to point Z when they go into the company...what an incredible opportunity."

Pacific Northwest Ballet School: Ikolo Griffin

After Kiyon Ross became director of company operations at Pacific Northwest Ballet in 2019, it left a void in the school faculty. He'd been a beloved Black male teacher in the men's division and professional program, so when looking to replace him, there were conversations about the importance of both gender and racial representation. Then Ikolo Griffin's resumé landed on artistic director Peter Boal's desk. Denise Bolstad, PNB School's managing director, was familiar with him—he was a former PNB summer intensive student—and had followed his career: Originally introduced to dance through San Francisco Ballet's Dance in Schools and Communities program, he became SFB's first outreach student to join that company, and he also danced professionally with DTH (as a principal) and The Joffrey Ballet.

"You knew he would teach in a way that would be complementary to what PNB was looking for in a faculty member," Boal says. But, he adds, "You can always question whether or not you should be looking for someone who teaches like you or whether you should expand the way that you're teaching, and that is something that we are thinking about now."

San Francisco Ballet School: Jason Ambrose

When San Francisco Ballet School faculty member Anne-Sophie Rodriguez and Edward Ellison recommended their former Ellison Ballet student Jason Ambrose to SFB school director Patrick Armand, he was struck by his CV. "It was a totally different ball game," says Armand.

Ambrose started late, at 17, in his native Virginia Beach under Cuban Ana Maria Martinez; two years later he was in Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre's graduate program. After attending the Bolshoi Ballet Academy New York summer intensive, he trained at Ellison Ballet for three years and began to choreograph competition solos for his classmates. Just as he was ready to transition to professional, a medical setback derailed him.

"I had a lot of opportunities waiting for me, and then I got really sick and had to go home and have an operation on my stomach related to my Crohn's disease," he says. In 2015, Oleg Vinogradov, director of the Ballet Theatre of St. Petersburg Conservatoire in Russia, saw Ambrose's choreography and invited him to study in the ballet masters and choreographers program, and dance with the program's company.

It was Ambrose's mastery of the Vaganova training that sold Armand. "He is really young to have that quality in his teaching," Armand says. "He has an innate talent; his classes are very sound. He studied Vaganova, so there is a real school behind the process. It is what we needed."

The Power of Representation

For too long, Black ballet teachers were siloed to outreach and community programs because "the kids needed to see themselves." When we talk about representation, most frequently we are referring to marginalized people seeing themselves; however, it is almost more important that white students, parents and patrons see and experience expertise from people of other colors. The truth of the matter is that, though systemic racism may stymie access and opportunity, most non-white people are already aware of their capability.

Building a strong and effective faculty is alchemy. Relying on pedigree takes some of the guesswork out of finding the right fit. However, if schools are looking for diverse representation sooner rather than later, they will have to step outside of their elitist comfort zone and acknowledge the implicit bias that believes only those who have had the prescribed trajectory are capable, and that ballet teachers should look, sound and instruct in a particular way. Schools will have to actively recruit and cultivate teachers with diverse backgrounds the same way they have with students. If we are going to shift the art form, ballet will have to abandon the traditional prescriptive, and embrace unorthodox. We cannot change and stay the same.

Theresa Ruth Howard, founder of MoBBallet, has worked as a consultant at Pacific Northwest Ballet, San Francisco Ballet and Boston Ballet. This piece is a companion to her essay "Tokenism vs. Representation: How Can We Tell Them Apart?"

#article #ballet #dance magazine

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ladecena · 3 years

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FELICITY🦋

“She is not a painter but she drew many lines on her wrist. Slowly the red liquid flows from the lines of varying lengths. She is not afraid. Her tears were dripping on the floor.” Our lives are full of many colors. But why on some pages of my life, I cannot see any color. With so many people in this world, why do I seem to be alone? “She’s just acting!” “It’s only on her mind!” “She just wants pity!” “She only wants attention!” words I hear from them. It is just a simple mental illness for some people, but they do not know that it can cause the taking of a life.

My parents named me Felicity. It means ‘happiness’. That’s why I grew up as a happy child, they called me “Ligaya”. I have 6 siblings and I am the eldest. Five of us will go to private school and my other two siblings are still young. I am currently studying in a private school, 3rd-year College, and the course I took was Bachelor of Arts in Communication. My mother is a teacher while my father works for a well-known company. They try their best to get us to go to a good school. But we can hardly be with them for long because they are so busy but we remain happy and in love. I mostly take care of my little siblings. As the eldest, I often did the household chores such as cooking, washing, and so on. When mama is not at work, I help her do the laundry. But it’s not always fun and abundant, the year has come that will test us and others.

There was a pandemic that tested everyone. Many lost their jobs, businesses went bankrupt and closed, and some students did not continue their studies due to the lack of gadgets to use for online classes. My mother lost her job because not everyone was allowed to continue teaching. We were deeply affected by this news. Also, my father lost the job that our family hoped for because the company he worked for went bankrupt. So almost all the money we saved was spent little by little. My younger siblings need to transfer to a public school. We no longer know where we can get the money to earn. My mom tried to sell a lot of clothes but she was scammed and went bankrupt. That’s why we were in debt then. And there’s a lot of problems that have come to us. My third brother Mark became Covid positive and had to be taken to the hospital alone. I knew he could get through it because Mark was brave and strong like me.

Meanwhile, we were quarantined for the safety of our family. We had almost nothing to eat so we sold everything we had just to make money. My mom lost weight because she always wondered to Mark how he was doing. I also started to lose interest in everything. I don’t know what’s happening to me, there are nights that I suddenly cry and I always want to be in my room. My parents worry about me every day and they ask me what my problem is but I can’t answer them. I just want to be alone. I can’t do my paperwork at school anymore. I couldn’t even talk or tell them things that ran through my mind. Even my friends at school or even my siblings can’t express my feelings because I’m afraid of being judged. After all, I’m too confused. I couldn’t smile anymore, I was always in my room. On social media, I can bring out all my problems at school and home. But no one even asked me how I was? Or what is happening to me? Only my parents worry about me but I don’t want them to think about me. Add to my thoughts are people who say I’m just acting or that I just want attention. Don’t they know how I feel? There are days when I just want to commit suicide. I ask God why I need to experience all of this. Sometimes I blame God for all the things that happened to me and my family. One day, while my father was busy arranging for Mark’s belongings to be taken to the hospital, he read bad news on his cellphone that Mark was gone, my beloved brother was gone. We never saw Mark again, we only saw his ashes. My parents can’t accept what happened. They had to go to my grandpa and grandma’s house to borrow money for the bills left over from Mark’s hospitalization. I need to get out of my room and fight my thoughts and feelings to help them. While I was cooking, someone called me and said that my parents had an accident. I don’t know how I feel, I was suddenly stunned and I don’t know what to do. I immediately went to the hospital where they were and I told Joy to take care of our younger siblings. When I arrived at the hospital, the guards would not let me in because they were restrictive and needed to follow some protocol, but I needed to know what the condition of my parents was. Later, a doctor came out and I immediately talked to him. I asked him how my parents were doing. They said that they tried to save my father but it’s all too late. While my mother is comatose and needs a large amount of money for my dad’s funeral and my mom’s hospital bills.

I feel so much pain because I don’t know what to do for my parents. I immediately went to my grandparent’s house to tell them the bad news and asked for help. I first took my siblings there so that someone would watch over them while I took care of my father’s funeral. Because of the pandemic, it is not possible to have a long hill. So my father was buried for only two days. We borrowed some money from the relatives of my dad abroad.

While I was walking to the hospital I didn’t realize that it was raining so I went to the church near the hospital. As I walked to the altar approaching Him, my tears flowed as I stared at Him and said what else we had to go through. And I couldn’t help but scream in pain “What else do you want to take from me? You took all the things that I have! You took Mark and my dad, that’s enough! ” I have lost two important people in my life and my mother is almost dying. I have approached a lot of people but none of them attempt to help us. So I had to find a job because I was afraid of losing my mother too. So I fight everything in my mind. But because of the pandemic, it’s a hard time for me to find a job, especially restricting everything because of the virus. So I just worked in the cafeteria near our house.

My mom hasn’t woken up for almost two weeks and her hospital bill has been going up. After work, I’ll just take a look at my siblings and my grandparents. Every time I went there, my siblings ignored me because they were angry with me, they said I couldn’t do anything for mama as I was the eldest. But they don’t know how much I want to help our mother. I felt even more that I was alone in the world. While I was working in the cafeteria, my boss suddenly shouted at me because I was stunned. I just entered the comfort room because I was so embarrassed. I saw something sharp when I was inside and I don’t know why I thought of hurting myself. As my tears flowed as well as blood dripped from my arm. I just woke up lying in the hospital. When I woke up I saw Erika, my youngest sister. I tried to get up to go to her but the nurses stopped me and said that my youngest sister was also positive for the virus as well as my sister Joy. As the nurse told me about the condition of my siblings I don’t know how I will feel.

As I was stunned an old man approached me and spoke to me. He asked me why I tried to commit suicide. But I couldn’t answer his question because I also didn’t know the answer. He also asked me if I believed in God and I suddenly looked at him and just nodded. “If you believe that there is a God, why do you want to disappear from this world? Why would you give up? ” You know many of us only know God as our savior but most of us only know Him when we need something. But the commitment and faith in Him is nothing. They just know God but don’t have a deep relationship with him. And that is one of the reasons why we give up immediately. I saw a lot of your problems and yes it’s hard but you have to be resilient and you have to surrender everything to Him. Just wait for His great plans for you. Sometimes we tend to forget what God’s value is when we already have everything we want and at the end of the day, we will come to Him again when we don’t have those things anymore. It is important that you put your full trust in Him and that we accept Him wholeheartedly. ” As that man says all those words, my tears continue to fall, and I realize that man is right. I should not blame the Lord for what happens to me and my family today. I may lose something in my life but I know that there will come a good and new hope in my life after all. When the old man left I immediately looked up in the sky and apologized to Him. God sent that old man so that I could realize the value of life and the value of God in our lives. And since I trusted in the Lord’s plan for my life, my prayers began to be heard. My mother woke up and papa’s rich friend helped us to get mama out of the hospital. My siblings and I became negative and I already had a job and I was able to provide for our daily needs. Lastly, we live happily and we know that God is always with us, protecting us and guiding us. I am now aware that God is always in control and He always provides for our needs.

- matahom👄

June 09, 2021

#love cinema movie movies art entertainment life fantasy story #short story #inspiration #motivation

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beyond-the-mirror · 4 years

Text

The Blue Eyed King’s Gift

Finally! As promised Part 3 is now ready.

So as you have seen in the previous chapter, this fanfic was partly inspired by Thumbelina (or Thumbeline, depending on the country you’re from). In this part, however, there are a few hints for the main inspiration of this fanfic, can you guess which fairytale is it?

Be ready though, this chapter is a long one. More under the cut.

Special thanks to @cheesysquid for beta-reading and putting up with my amateur writing. Thank you so much for everything, o master of writing.

Pairings: Vergil x Fem Reader

Warnings: None. Pure fluff and wholesomeness in this one.

Tags: @v-vic. If you want to be tagged let me know!

Part One - Part Two - Part Four

……………………..

Part Three

“Nooo! You pesky knights have defeated me!”

“Take that you evil dragon! You have been slain by the great knights Nero and V!”

Both twins giggled victoriously after tackling their uncle to the ground, causing the man in question to let out a hearty laugh at their adorable antics.

They were still in the middle of playing when the door opened. The boys beamed at the familiar, stoic figure that walked inside, clad in an elegant blue attire and a tired expression evident on his face.

“Papa!” The monarch welcomed the twins into his arms, their innocent smiles already soothing the stress out of his mind and body.

“My apologies for working until late little ones, there were some important matters Papa had to attend to.”

“But, you are still going to play with us tomorrow like you promised, right?” Nero gave his father a worried look, his lips forming a cute little pout that the king would never resist.

The last couple of weeks had been busier than usual for the Blue Eyed King, leaving him little to no time for his beloved children. However, all pending work had finally been solved just in time for the weekend, a perfect opportunity to take a well deserved break from his royal duties for a few days and instead spend them with his lovely sons.

“Don’t you worry, tomorrow I’ll have the entire day free so we can do whatever you two want.” The twins bounced at their father’s words, already excited for the next day to arrive. “But for now it is time for you both to go to bed.”

The twins wanted to protest in hopes of getting at least another few minutes of playtime, pouting and huffing in a displeased manner. But their attempts were thwarted by their uncle, who had a mischievous grin on his face.

“Your papa is right kiddos, it’s already late and all the good little boys must go to sleep. Unless you wish to fall victims to the monster that eats naughty children!” Letting out a playful roar, their uncle picked up Vitale, acting as if trying to munch on the boy’s little arm.

“Eww! Uncle Dante that is gross!” V giggled as he pushed his uncle’s face away from him, failing to make him stop his antics. Finally giving in, Dante lowered him on his respective bed before making his way to the door, letting his older brother tuck his nephews in.

“Now what do we say, my dears?” The monarch asked, giving his sons an expectant look while a warm smile blooms on his face.

“Good night uncle Dante!”

“G’night kiddos. See you tomorrow Verge.” The young prince smiled back at them, and with a salute, he retired to his own chambers for the night.

As Vergil tucked his sons under the soft covers however, his keen eye could notice Nero fidgeting a bit in his bed.

“Is something troubling you, Nero?”

The boy jumped at the abrupt question, hesitating for a few seconds before answering.

“Uhm, earlier you said that tomorrow we could do anything we wanted, so...” Looking down to avoid his father’s intense stare, the young boy took a deep breath before continuing. “Remember our friend (Y/N)?”

Vergil raised an eyebrow in confusion. These last weeks his children would mention her quite often, even though he knew about her existence before they even mentioned the name to him. He indeed recognized and appreciated all the good things this woman had done for the brothers, and it would be a blatant lie to say he wasn’t grateful for her kindness and hospitality. However, he couldn’t help but feel concerned after hearing Nero bringing up her name.

“I do recall her. Something you wish to tell me about it?”

The older brother glanced at Vitale at the bed next to his. He seemed unsure as to what to say, until a silent nod from V gave him the push he needed to speak out.

“Well, V and I were wondering if… we could invite her for dinner tomorrow?”

………………….

Another day, and yet the same routine.

Waking up, getting ready, cooking breakfast for your father and preparing all the goods to be sold at the market before departing.

That’s how it has been for some years now, and yet something felt different.

Lately you’ve been smiling more. Everytime you cooked, you would hum a cheery song to yourself. Your plants and crops would receive more kind words from you than usual, which resulted in better harvests, and therefore, better sales.

There was no doubt as to why there was more light in your life. Two reasons actually: two adorable little brothers that would often grace you abode with their beaming presence.

It was no surprise to receive a sudden visit from Nero and Vitale, always accompanied by their two animal friends Griffon and Shadow. Those afternoons became your favorites, when you welcomed the twins into your garden so they could play as much as their hearts wanted to. On days when you weren’t particularly busy tending to your father, you would join them in their adorable antics and games.

While your father’s attitude had sabotaged your childhood, one that you hoped could have been happier, there was no denying the bond you formed with the twins. Eventually you found yourself going through all your belongings from your childhood that you had locked away inside an aged trunk in your room. And much to your luck, you found some of your old toys still in pristine condition. An idea then hatched in your head, why not share them with Nero and Vitale next time they visited?

As you tended to your garden, you spotted a couple of familiar silhouettes approaching your family’s chateau, which brought a bright smile to your face. It seemed today they decided to drop by earlier than usual, nevertheless you still welcomed the brothers into your yard.

“(Y/N)!” They exclaimed simultaneously as they ran to you, wrapping you into a warm hug as soon as you kneeled down to their height.

“Is the bad man at home?” V whispered into your ear.

“The bad man is sleeping. Don’t worry about him.” You winked at both brothers before ushering them in and towards the garden, glancing around to make sure your father wasn’t around.

Every time you would always make sure to keep the brothers hidden from your father. It was for the best, as you figured it must not be healthy to expose such innocent children to a volatile and constantly inebriated man like him.

“So what do I owe this unexpected visit? You arrived quite earlier than usual today.”

“Actually, we came here to invite you to our house.” Nero announced in a cheerful tone.

V nodded before completing his brother’s words “We asked our father and he said he wanted to meet you. So he wishes for you to come and have dinner with us.”

“Oh…” Needless to say, the request took you by surprise. “Well I do appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure if I could really go. I don’t want to be a bother there, and I still have some chores to do here.”

A frown crossed the twin’s faces “Please (Y/N). We promise you will not be a bother, we really want you to go.” V pleaded, immediately followed by Nero.

“Yes, and we could play and have so much fun! Plus, we can show you our home and you can meet all our family and friends.”

“But…”

“Pretty pleeeease?”

‘Oh, be still my heart.’ you internally struggled as you witnessed the cutest and loveliest pair of puppy eyes you had ever seen in your life.

“Alright then” you sighed in defeat. There was no way you could resist the charm of those two. “Let me just change my clothes and we’ll be ready to go.”

“Yay! Thank you (Y/N)!” They jumped up and down in glee, a rather adorable sight for you.

And so you made your way towards your bedroom, leaving the twins in the safety of your garden for them to play while you got ready.

You rummaged through your wardrobe in search of a nice enough dress, if you were about to meet the twins’ family then it was best to dress appropriately and cause a good first impression. You opted for a light blue gown, not too elegant but not too casual, perfect for an afternoon meeting. Searching through your jewelry box, you opted for a pair of pearl earrings, a blue hair ribbon to tie up your hair, and last but not least, a beautiful choker necklace that used to belong to your mother.

The sight of it brought a nostalgic smile to your face. Your fingers lightly traced the small blue rose at the center, the single sapphire drop beneath it reflecting light ever so pretty.

Sitting on your vanity you began working on your hair, combing and styling your locks into a simple but classy updo. However, as you sat there getting ready, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of family did the brothers have. By the clean outfits they would always wear you figured they must have a wealthy enough family. The thought made you feel nervous, would they approve of you? The daughter of a bankrupt, alcoholic noble with a terrible reputation? A once respected family name now tarnished by the actions of your father, you lamented how things came to be.

With a deep sigh, you tried to shake those feelings off. Your little guests were waiting for you, and you wouldn’t dare let those negative thoughts crush their earlier happiness. It was the least you could do for them, the little lights of your life.

………………….

“You are going to love our home (Y/N)! It’s so pretty and everyone is so nice and kind. Also, Papa has an enormous library! Right V?”

“Yes! It’s my favorite place ever. I can’t wait to show you all the pretty books!”

Nero and V bounced all the way as they pulled at your hands, guiding you to their house.

And yet you couldn’t help but wonder about where the boys lived. Your father’s chateau was quite remote, and not once did you spot another house during your trips to the village. But you shrugged the thoughts away, choosing to instead follow Nero and V while enjoying their company.

That was until you noticed they were leading you towards the dense woods.

“Shouldn’t we take the road instead? The woods could be dangerous and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

But the boys simply shook their heads. “They’re very safe, besides we always take this route.”

“Don’t be scared (Y/N). We promise you it’s going to be okay, you can trust us.” Both twins reassured you, soothing your doubtful mind. Should it be true they have been crossing the woods to visit you, then danger was nowhere near.

“Alright then. Let’s keep going.”

………………….

A soothing peace lingered on the woodlands. Birds chirped away despite it already being past noon, flowers of all kinds painted the ground in all kinds of patterns and colors, warm rays of sunlight shone through the many tree branches and bathed the earth in a mystical aura.

Never once had you paid attention to the forest near your father’s chateau. Whether it was out of fear of the beasts that could possibly lurk there, or the scary thoughts of getting lost there and never finding your way back home; entering there barely crossed your mind.

And apparently you weren’t the only one who thought so. As vast as it seemed to be, the place appeared as unmarked in every map of the region. Just a big, nameless spot too unimportant to be considered as a landmark by locals and travelers.

So it made sense to ask yourself, as Nero and Vitale brought you along into the unknown, just what kind of family would take interest in living in a place like this?

Staring at Griffon’s figure flying just ahead, you wondered how far you were from home, and just how long you had been here in the heart of nature. It felt like an eternity, and at the same time it felt like only a couple minutes. Now that you thought about it, why did it look like the same scenery repeated over and over? The same trees, the same flowers, the same chirping birds.

What is this place?

“Here we are.” The sound of V’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took a few moments to register where you were, and after blinking a couple times, you took in your surroundings.

Never had you seen something so otherworldly.

A small clearing, barely illuminated by a few rays of sunlight, laid right in front of you. The irregular terrain of the woods had now turned into a layer of soft green grass. But what truly caught your eye was what stood right in the center of the clearing: A lone stone arch was there, tall and covered in moss, looking as if it had witnessed many ancient eras that were now long forgotten.

A dead silence veiled the land, yet the mere presence of the arch weighed so heavy in the air. It almost felt as if it were alive, an ancient being filled with sorrow over being the only surviving structure of a lost kingdom. You found yourself staring at it for a bit too long, not expecting to see something so out of place in this forest.

“C’mon (Y/N)! Our home is right there!” Nero tugged at your hand, taking you towards the stone arch in a hurry.

You were about to ask what he meant, but the words never left your lips as the twins pulled you to the other side.

………………….

There was a fairytale you were fond of when you were a child, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland if you recalled correctly. There was a particular scene you remembered, one where Alice stumbled into a rabbit hole, falling deep down until she found herself in another world.

At this moment in your life, you felt like Alice. Except instead of following a white rabbit into a rabbit hole, you followed two brothers across a stone arch.

You gaped in awe at the scenery before you.

The thick forest you were once in had vanished completely, now replaced by a vibrant city full of life. Everything looked so much different from the little village you knew, from the buildings to the shops and even the clothes people were wearing. You were especially taken back by the strange carriages that ran along the streets, impressed by the fact they moved around by themselves without horses or any other animal pulling them.

Not only did it feel like a different place, but also like a different time.

“Griffon, Shadow, could you please go to our father and inform him of our return?” As V finished his request, what happened almost made you stumble back in shock.

Shadow’s body began transforming into what seemed to be ink, heavy and shapeless, before morphing into a majestic panther with crimson markings glowing all over its body. Meanwhile, Griffon enveloped itself in blue sparks, growing into a demonic avian with three beaks and three golden pupils.

Both creatures, however, meant no harm at all as they bowed before the boys before departing in order to carry V’s order.

You were still staring at their figures disappearing into the crowd when a sudden gruff voice broke you out of your trance.

“I see you have returned safely, Your Highnesses”.

“Hello again mister Morrison. This is our friend (Y/N)!” Vitale greeted back. The man, Morrison, was a dark-skinned gentleman who looked to be in his fifties, impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit.

You weren’t sure if he was a noble or a commoner, if anything the exquisite clothes he dorned seemed to indicate the former. Wanting to be on your best behavior, you curtsied appropriately and introduced yourself to the gentleman before you.

“The famous miss (Y/N) herself. A pleasure meeting the lady that his highnesses have been mentioning about lately.”

‘His highnesses?’

“Uhm, if it is not too inappropriate of me to ask mister Morrison... exactly where am I?”

The man chuckled warmly at your questions. “My apologies milady. We are not exactly used to visitors from outside, I should have been more considerate though.” Morrison took a pause before continuing.

“Welcome to the Great Kingdom of Fortuna, Lady (Y/N).”

………………….

‘Well, talk about unexpected news.’ Said the voice in your mind, still processing what you just learned so far.

You learned that you were in Fortuna, a kingdom that exists in its own dimension, hidden behind a magical barrier. Nero and Vitale were also nobles, the beloved sons of a powerful demon king that reigned over this uncharted land. How mystifying it was to be in a land whose name eluded even the most thorough history lessons you were given since birth.

And now here you were, in one of those horseless carriages you had seen on the streets just minutes ago, on the way to meet the Demon King himself. Both twins kept giving you apologetic looks, their poor souls not expecting your reaction to be so flabbergasted.

Still, you kept reassuring them that it was nothing to worry about. There was no way their innocent minds would have taken that into account.

But now you found your mind drifting to what could be waiting for you at the castle. Judging by the recent events you had gone through on the same day, there was no way this day could become any more unusual.

………………….

His fingers ran through his hair for what had to be the hundredth time that day, despite it already being as pristine as always. Vergil sighed in frustration as a few bangs fell out of place and over his forehead, his bad habit of slicking back his hair already making matters worse.

“Hey now, cut yourself some slack bro.” Dante tried to cheer his brother up, brushing back his bangs into their proper place.

“Shall I remind you how this was basically your idea, brother?” He gave a deadly glare towards Dante once he stepped back.

When his sons had suggested inviting that woman to the palace, he was taken completely by surprise. Ever since the day Vergil had decided to isolate Fortuna from the rest of the world, the idea of welcoming an outsider has been completely out of discussion.

As much as he trusted (Y/N) with his children, and as much as Nero and Vitale insisted and sobbed, his decision was absolute.

‘But papa, she lives with a bad man. Her father is evil and cruel to her.’

‘But father, we love playing with her. We want to protect her from the bad man.’

He could see it, the true meaning carried within the tears that cascaded down his sons’ faces. They only wished to make her happy, get her away from the sad reality that was dealing with a drunken parent all the time, even if just for a day.

Of course Vergil understood, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t moved by their sweet intentions. However, he just couldn’t risk not only his family’s safety, but also his kingdom’s.

And then his annoying little brother intervened.

How did he manage to convince him? Nobody would ever know, least not Vergil himself.

“I’m just trying to help here. Besides, this (Y/N) girl doesn’t seem that bad so what’s the problem of letting one outsider in?”

Vergil grunted, becoming more unamused by Dante’s words by the second. He was about to retort when his brother rudely interrupted him.

“Or maybe the reason you are nervous is because you always look at her image like a love-struck puppy.”

At his words the king became paler than a ghost. “I’m not sure what you are talking about.” He cleared his throat in an attempt to hide his own insecurity.

“Don’t think for a second I haven’t seen you watching over her and the little ones with your magic.” Dante winked in an amused manner.

Feelings for that woman? Ridiculous. Sure she may look identical to his late queen, and her mannerisms may be almost the same, but his beloved was long gone. And yet Vergil couldn’t help the way (Y/N)’s image tugged at his heart.

No. There must not be any feelings whatsoever. (Y/N) was just an outsider and that was it. Even if his brother kept bothering him about it.

………………….

As you stepped into the majestic palace, you were rendered speechless by its luxurious interior.

Immaculate walls decorated with elegant and almost endless columns, their architecture like no other you had ever imagined. Not a single stain or speck of dust could be seen on the white and dark blue marble floor, and all the furniture pieces looked to be designed and handmade by master craftsmen.

Your gaze fell on the grand staircase at the center of the entry hall when you heard a door opening, the sound making all the servants bow at the figure that had entered the room.

The Blue Eyed King himself had entered. A gentleman dressed in an elegant navy blue suit, perfectly tailored and made with the richest fabric money could afford. His chiseled face was strong and defined, like a greek marble statue come to life. His luscious white hair was slicked back, not a single hair out of place. To complete his outfit, a matching tailcoat dorned his frame, decorated in a regal silver brocade that resembled wild briars enveloping his figure in exquisite patterns.

Everything about the king’s appearance exuded perfection and beauty, but what really caught your attention were his eyes. They were an icy blue, sharp and piercing like a deadly sword. Those were not the eyes of a human but of a demon, one with the power to make entire legions kneel and submit with a single glare.

Needless to say, the king’s mere presence intimidated you. And when his eyes connected with yours for an instant, you swore your heart stopped. Whether it was out of fear or wonder, you weren’t sure.

That was until the children at your sides started giggling.

“Papa!” The brothers ran towards their father with their little arms open.

And just like that, the demon in his eyes vanished. Kneeling down, the monarch welcomed his sons into his arms, a gentle smile breaking the cold stoicism that once rested on his face. Gone was the sharp look he had just seconds ago, now replaced with a warm light at the sight of his beloved children.

You couldn’t help but smile at them. However, when the king stood back up with the twins in hand, you were quick to regain your posture.

“Lady (Y/N), I present you King Vergil Sparda, ruler of the Great Kingdom of Fortuna.” In the most refined and formal manner, Morrison introduced his lord, before gesturing at the brothers. “His sons, Prince Nero Sparda and Prince Vitale Sparda.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty.” You curtsied, now regretting your choice of attire. A more formal dress would have been more appropriate for the occasion, but then again, you definitely didn’t expect to meet a King on this particular day. A sigh almost escaped your lips, and you dared to hope no one took notice of the gesture.

“The pleasure is mine, Lady (Y/N). I am glad you have accepted our invitation, Nero and Vitale have told me a lot about you recently.”

The children nodded in agreement. “Father, can we go play with (Y/N) now? Please?” Vitale gave a timid pull at his father’s sleeve.

“We want to show (Y/N) the castle!” Nero added with an adorable bounce.

“No little ones. Dinner is almost served and we don’t want to be late.” Vergil responded in a most gentle manner, yet firm enough to get his point across.

Both twins looked like they were about to protest when their poor stomachs rumbled in hunger, prompting you to let out a soft laugh.

Kneeling down to their level, you patted their heads lovingly. “Now my children, we’ll have all the time to play whatever you want after eating. For now let’s get you something to eat, hm?”

“And then we get to play together?” Again, the boys try to sway you with those irresistible puppy eyes of them.

“As much as you two want.”

The children would have taken off on a race to the dining hall if it weren’t for Morrison who stopped them in their tracks. The twins’ antics coaxed a laugh out of you, and out of the corner of your eye, you caught the king himself letting out a low chuckle. But the moment he acknowledged your staring, he couldn’t help but blush a bit.

“Please excuse my sons’ behavior.” He cleared his throat. “Recently they have begun their training in etiquette protocols, but i’m afraid they continue to ignore them each time I’m present.”

You shook your head to reassure him “Do not apologize, Your Majesty. Such an attitude must mean they see you as a loving father rather than a ruler, a person far greater than any royal in the eyes of a child, don’t you think?”

“An interesting point indeed.” Vergil hummed, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. For a second he looked like his mind was in conflict despite the cordial smile on his face, but he was quick to shrug it off. “Please allow me to lead you to the dining hall. You must be feeling hungry after your trip from home.”

The King proceeded to offer you a gloved hand. His eyes remained fixated on you, looking as if they were piercing into your very soul.

A bit hesitant, you accepted his offer, your soft palm soon enveloped by his warm fingers. On your way to the dining hall, the pink tint decorating your cheeks never once left.

………………….

All kinds of delicacies lined the grand table in front of you, trays filled with the most delicious looking food you had ever seen.

It took you by surprise when the monarch gestured to the seat at the right of his.

“I thank you for the invitation, your Majesty. However, I do not consider myself worthy of sitting at your right side.”

“Quite the contrary, Lady (Y/N). Nero and Vitale have told me of what you have done for them, and they requested for me to invite you to our palace. This feast was prepared as a show of my gratitude for the kindness you have given my children.”

The twins smiled at you. Knowing this was their idea warmed your heart to no end.

“I.. I don’t know what to say, your Majesty, except... Thank you for your generosity.”

Vergil offered you a smile before taking his seat at the head of the table, while his beloved sons were seated at his left side.

You sat at the king’s right, feeling nervous to take such an important place at a royal’s table. However, you were even further surprised to see that the rest of the servitude, including mister Morrison, occupied the seats too. In the countless times your family was invited to a noble’s house, never were the servants allowed to sit at the same table as the patrons.

Nero took notice of your expression and immediately understood your confusion. “Years ago, we told Papa we didn’t like the table to be so empty every time we ate, so we requested him to let all our friends sit with us too.” He explained, whispering loud enough for you to hear him.

Vergil smiled with fondness at the memory before adding “It has become a tradition since then.”

It seems not only were they a light in your life, but to everyone that met them.

“By the way,” Vitale looked around as if searching for something “Where is uncle Dante?”

‘Uncle Dante?’

“Hello family! Sorry for being late!” A boisterous yell resounded across the dining hall.

Turning around, you noticed a man who looked identical to King Vergil, and yet the energy he radiated couldn’t be more opposite to that of the monarch. His hair looked tousled, a contrast to the king’s slicked back hair. He sported a bit of a stubble, and the suit he wore as well as his tailcoat were a striking red.

The man you assumed to be Dante was about to take his seat at the table when his eyes noticed you.

“Oh! you must be Lady (Y/N), sorry for my rude entry.” As Dante approached, you stood back up to offer a polite curtsy. “I am Dante Sparda. It is an honour to finally make your acquaintance, milady.”

The noble offered you a wide smile, taking your hand in a gentle hold before planting a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

“The honour is mine, Prince Dante.” Your response was a bit bashful to the mannerisms of the noble before you, so you opted for a polite smile before sitting back down.

“So what are we eating on this fine day?” Walking around the table, Dante sat himself beside the twins, who immediately jumped to his arms.

Turning to the monarch, however, his reaction was far from the joyous one the boys had. In any case, he looked more like the demon you had seen the moment you first saw him.

“Please excuse my younger brother, Lady (Y/N). Unlike my sons, Dante never had a problem with ignoring the proper etiquette.”

Trying your best to ignore the deadly look Vergil was giving his brother, you proceeded to eat the meal in front of you with a low giggle, just like Nero and V in front of you.

………………….

“Aww can’t you stay for a little longer (Y/N)?” Nero gave a sad frown.

As much as you would have loved to stay with them, the sun was already setting down in the horizon. You still needed to care for your father back home and prepare everything for tomorrow’s sale at the market.

“I’m afraid I can’t, little ones. But you are free to drop by my father’s chateau whenever you want.” You pulled the boys into a tight hug.

Footsteps reached your ears, and rising your head, you noticed that the Blue Eyed King was approaching you.

“Are you sure you wish to leave Lady (Y/N)? You are welcome to stay in Fortuna and at my palace as long as you need too.”

You offered the king a polite shake of your head. “You are very generous, your Majesty. However, I do not want to cause any more inconveniences to your family and your staff. Besides, it’s getting late and I have a few matters to attend at home.”

As you gave a warm smile, the monarch’s mind was once again transported to past memories long thought to be overcome.

‘There must not be any feelings whatsoever.’ He reminded himself, before banishing those memories from his mind.

“In that case, please follow me.”

As you were being led through the many halls of the castle, you eventually reached the royal garden. Flowers and exotic plants decorated the place, all of them aligned in impeccable designs and nurtured as best as possible. At the center of it all, was a structure that was already familiar to you. A stone arch, this one surrounded by a bed of breath-taking blue roses.

“This portal can take you back to your home.” Vergil began explaining. “Picture in your mind the place you wish to go to, and once you step inside you shall be taken there. Afterwards, the portal will close behind you, and you will notice that time will not have changed since your arrival at Fortuna. You are welcome to visit the castle as many times as you wish.”

You turned to the monarch a bit incredulous. Have you heard correctly? The King himself had just invited you to return anytime you wanted. You would be lying if you said the warm treatment you received that day wasn’t unwelcomed, after having to support yourself and your father on your own all your life this was a rather pleasant change.

“Your Majesty, I-I can’t describe how grateful I am for your hospitality. However, I’m still not sure how I’ll be able to find the way back to this place again.”

At your doubts, Vergil kindly answered “As long as your heart wishes to, the way shall always reveal itself to you. And as long as you have something from your own timeline with you,” he then gestured at the choker that decorated your neck. “You shall always find your way back home.”

You were about to say something when the King reached for your hand, holding it gently and raising it to his lips before placing a soft kiss on the knuckles. Each and every word died before leaving your lips, the feeling of Vergil’s pillowing lips on your hand taking your breath away.

His eyes fluttered open, his gorgeous eyes now fixated on yours as his lips parted from the back of your hand. All you could do was avert your eyes, a rosy blush tainting your cheeks. Never in your life had you felt so bashful, and as much as you wanted to hide your sudden shyness nothing seemed to work. So instead you turned to the children, getting down on one knee before them.

“I promise you we’ll get to play another time, alright?”

After one last hug from them, you stood back up and crossed the portal, departing back home.

………………….

Everything was exactly the way it was when you left, even your father who still remained inside his chambers in a deep slumber as usual.

WIthout any further ado, you continued with your daily activities. Tomorrow will be another day, and yet the same routine awaited you as any other day before.

Waking up, getting ready, cooking breakfast for your father and preparing all the goods to be sold at the market before departing.

That’s how it has been for some years now, but now something was definitely different.

Your thoughts drifted to Nero and Vitale, and then to King Vergil.

‘Maybe I should drop by again in a few days…’

#devil may cry #fairy tale au #fairy tale inspired #Vergil Sparda #vergil x reader #vergil x you #dadgil #Papa Vergil #fanfiction #fanfic #reader-insert

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bumbershots · 3 years

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A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER TWO: MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY

Author’s note: Hello! Thanks a lot to everyone for reading this, I’m over the moon with the messages you sent after posting the first chapter. Keep them coming, and enjoy! ~ Alex

Story Masterlist ** Word count 2.3K **

If she was prettier and a bit smarter. If she were special, like the Instagram models that Teen Vogue features in their cover nowadays. She would have the guts to take three steps towards him and ask if he is who she thinks he is.

Harry is standing once again across from her, and she doesn't even know that he is wearing his beloved woolly jumper that has a picture of the planet Saturn on it, just for her. The girl wonders if they've heard of Styles on that planet, too. Of course they have, she scolds herself looking away from him at last, not believing her luck. For the third time on a Thursday, at half past three, he's jumping in the train right after her. The first time could've been luck, second one was a lovely coincidence but a third time? It's a charm. That's what her grandma would say.

But she isn't brave enough to walk up to him, not because of who he is, but the pressure and build up around the entire situation. What if he's a dickhead? She frowns at the thought, knowing it can't be true, not when his eyes, the so-called windows of the soul, are that nice.

They're both in a corner of the train this time, conversations start to sputter around as people try to keep their own talk ticking along on autopilot. He seems to be busy, reading Keith Richards' autobiography, she wants to talk to him about it, it's been a while since she read it though she still remembers it clear as day. The next one is his stop, she sighs in defeat at her own cowardly nature and takes out her mobile only to look busy.

Harry wants to talk to her, this is the third Thursday in a row, he's afraid there won't be a fourth one. He's back from his last meeting with Jack and Fernando, everything is set to start the renovation. He won't be taking this route anymore, it's now or never. But it's harder than he thought, to approach her and that's it, he doesn't know what he's supposed to do once he stands before her.

The speaker announces his stop, but instead of leaning away from the wall and walking out of the train, he flips the page of his book, letting the doors close and stays on the carriage for the next station. He is so nervous, a bit scared of his bold choice to stay on the line without a well defined plan. He's never been this nervous about talking to someone, the butterflies on his tummy at the mere sight of her are restless. Maybe if he scoots closer, little by little, he can nudge her side and mouth her a polite "hello," a warm smile afterwards so she doesn't think it's a come on. Except it is.

Harry closes his book, deciding that it's stupid and honesty is the best way to anything. He will just greet her and ask if he can buy her a cup of coffee someday, easy, breezy like Jack says. His green eyes follow her out of the train, they just reach Colindale station, before he can process what is going on or even move, the doors close and the vehicle is moving back to the tunnel. Away from her and his last chance. His mouth is dry and it's like he stuffed it to the brim with cotton.

He got off on Burnt Oak and switched direction, he was so mad at himself, the deep frown on his face said it all. This was supposed to be his chick flick moment and he ruined it by not doing anything at all. He keeps his face glued to the door closest to him, waiting for her to come up and smile at him in that knowing way. Perhaps then he would stand tall, mention that cup of coffee after introductions are made and she will agree. But she doesn't come back on the next station, or the three following ones. Harry gets off the train with a cloud looming above him, the wind is blowing in that nasty way that announces a storm following suit. The singer hurries to his home, trying to beat it.

The rain comes out of nowhere in full force just as Harry walks through his front gate, dashing to the inside of his house. He decides to fix himself a light lunch to keep his mind from wondering if she made it to her destination before the rain caught up with her. A text message from Jack does the trick, he sent him the address for Freddie's birthday. Harry can't believe that's tonight.

"Hello stranger," Gemma's voice greets the musician after the second ring. "All right?"

"All right, just forgot about plans I had for the evening," he hated to cancel dinner with his sister, "come with me?" Harry's tone is hopeful, she can almost picture his adorable cherub face, eyes sparkling.

"Is it with your teenage friends?" He hums trying to come up with a lie, "Harry we can have our dinner tomorrow night instead, I don't mind." As much as she loves her brother, that doesn't extend to that certain group of acquaintances.

"They're not that bad!"

"Baby brother, have fun with the lads, I'll see you tomorrow, pick me up at eight o'clock." She states before ending the call. Harry huffs before finishing his veggie wrap and jumps in the shower.

Perhaps he should've told Gemma that his mood tonight wasn't the best, that although he wanted to go out and about, he didn't want to do it alone. But her reasons to avoid his less mature group of mates are valid so he grabs his parka and his phone and, a little stooped, heads for the flat where the party is held.

A few years ago, he set himself three tasks: prioritise friends, learn how to be an adult, achieve a proper balance between the big and the small. Harry genuinely loves the fittings of his outfits before tour, playing his music for thousands. But he realised, as well, that the coolest things are not always the cool things. Tonight he's hearing anecdotes of how his friends sold almost everything they owned, to be able to afford a trip to the World Cup in Russia the year before. He knows that England almost made it to the final, but to see the agony and pain reflected on Freddie's eyes as he tells the story is truly humbling and heartbreaking.

"They had to escort me out, an hour after the match ended." The birthday lad finishes with glossy eyes. "I've never felt so powerless in my life, the world just seemed so unfair from then on, you know?" Harry doesn't, but he nods and finishes his drink. "But enough about good old me, what about you?"

"Same old, touring for a while, back in British soil before I take off again." He doesn't like giving rehearsed answers to his friends, but they're surrounded by at least a dozen people carrying out their own conversations while straining to hear what Styles says.

"Thinking about the next album already?" His friend's amazement is genuine, "can't believe what you'll hit me with next!" Freddie was his rocker friend. The one with an expensive vinyl collection, the one to never miss a Rolling Stones show, the one that religiously attended Glastonbury every year. Remembering this, Harry relaxed and decided to share with him a topic that left him vulnerable.

"You can expect a lot of break up songs that's for sure," he tries to joke but Freddie's smile falters a bit.

"How long has it been?"

"It'll be a year next month." He can't believe it still feels so recent and not at the same time. "I'm getting used to it." Freddie sighs and nods in understanding.

"I'm sorry you have to go through a shit thing like that, you're one of the good ones H," the green eyed musician is blushing, waving his hand at his companion in an attempt to dismiss his words. "It's the truth I mean... look around us, Jack has been on and off with Alexis for years," the two men observe the couple they're discussing, nothing seems wrong with them but Freddie's words are true, Jack has a habit of calling it quits with the redhead once she brings up marriage. "Kiera and Mosas cheat on each other all the time, we're not even sure if they're still together at this point... last but not least you have Alf, Christophe, Ruben and myself, four emotionally unavailable men who can't commit because they can't get their shit together." Silence takes over the two friends, it's deafening even though the background music can be heard loud and clear.

"I made some shitty decisions too, that's what drove her away," Harry wants to continue, the tequila shots seemed to have loosened his tongue.

"No, no, no you listen to me," Freddie's hands hold his younger friend's face carefully. "I know you're not a dishonest scummy man, you're allowed to make mistakes in a relationship and learn from them... don't be like Alf," he lets Harry's face go and nods towards the tallest guy in the room, "he had a brief relationship with a Portuguese girl, charmed her socks off and when she planned to move here guess what he did?"

"What?" Harry knew the answer, but he wanted to give his friend the benefit of the doubt.

"He cuts her off! Ghosting is what they call it nowadays. Just like that... and you think he learned, except that he doesn't!" His friend is now sounding too frustrated. "I saw him do the same thing to Al, perhaps it was a bit different she already lived here but she wanted more and just—" he can't finish his thought and Harry feels for his friend. "We all do that, it's a trend."

"Must be something in the water." The curly one tries to joke and he earns a soft smile from the birthday guy, along with a heartwarming hug. "You can always ring me Freddie, to chat and if I'm home see each other." Harry knows this is something new in their friendship, but he feels it necessary, after so many years of knowing each other. He can tell that Freddie is trying to find his way into adulthood, something that Harry had to experience at a much younger age due to his career.

"Thanks mate, I would really like that." Harry is about to ask Freddie about his family's well-being when a figure entering the room caught his eye, she was wearing the burgundy coat like that first Thursday he was lucky enough to lay eyes on her, high-waisted trousers. The newsboy cap was missing though, but he was glad because it gave her curly hair the freedom it lacked before.

Of all the places where he thought they might meet again, his friend's birthday party was certainly not on the list. She was here, greeting Jack and the others, pulling her sleeve to show how uncomfortable she was at making small talk with Alexis and Keira. She has to crane her neck up a bit when talking to, well pretty much anyone in the room.

This is the miracle he's been waiting for, he thinks just as the song changes to The Beach Boys' and a small smirk threatens to expand on Harry's lips, he does want to ask her if she wants to dance like the sixties tune suggested.

"Harry it's nice to see you again!" Fernando stands in the way blocking the view between the musician and the tube girl. He cringes a bit at the nickname and makes a mental note to learn her name, the sooner the better.

"Fer, I have missed you since we last saw each other earlier today," the architect laughs and so does Freddie. "Would you like a beer?" Forever polite Harry asks.

"No, I'm driving tonight but I'll fetch one for my sister," he says stepping around the bar where Harry and Freddie have been leaning against for the past hour, "I'm starving though, do you mind if I order something Fred?"

"I have some pizza in the fridge man, help yourself." Fernando thanks him before nodding to the person standing behind Harry.

"This beer alright?" Harry turns around just in time to meet a pair of chocolate eyes staring at the guy behind the bar and nod in acceptance. "You already know Freddie and this is Harry," the curly guy is speechless, now up close she seems prettier than before and real. "Harry this is my sister Alma." She smiles in a sweet way that makes the pop star wonder if he's about to go into cardiac arrest.

"I saw you in the tube, Hampstead station guy!" Her voice was nothing like he had imagined, it was raspy and a hint of an accent he couldn't quite put his finger on was swimming through her words.

"That's me..." he admitted, the pink blush from his cheekbones migrating to his ears. Alma thought he looked adorable.

"Do you wanna dance?" She asked after a big gulp of her beer. All star by Smash Mouth just started playing, that was definitely not what Harry wanted to dance with her. Not that he had a secret plan to woo her with his moves, he wasn't the best dancer.

But he took her hand and let her lead the way to the unofficial dance floor, that on a regular day was the dining room. Oblivious to all the eyes focusing on them, Harry allowed himself to enjoy the unexpected turn of events, he had already wasted precious time not talking to this marvellous woman. Like Freddie said, he had to learn from his mistakes, instead of repeating them.

///

Let me know if you like the story! *** Join the taglist!

///

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#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oc #harry styles series #harry fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles ou #harry styles fan fic

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lilmissbeanie · 4 years

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Keiji Akaashi x Famous!F!Reader

Song ~ Ass Back Home - Gym Class Heroes

Genre ~ SFW Fluff

Word Count ~ 1.8k

Posted ~ 11/08/20

Akaashi sighed as he once again read another article about Y/n L/n and Jason Derulo, or some other artist always presuming that they were together. He didn't want to be jealous, but he couldn't help it when he saw his girl with some other guys, wasn't that normal?

He knew it was going to be hard when he asked her to be his girlfriend. He knew she would be away often she would be travelling for tours and of course, meeting up with other artists to collaborate on songs, even though he knew that her new song would be a collaboration with Jason Derulo.

He trusted her, the same way that Bokuto would trust his sets back in high school, the way that Bokuto would always know that Akaashi would always get the ball to him to spike. He knew she would never cheat on him, that wasn't who she was. He knew by the excitement in her voice when he answered the phone, "Kei!" The excitable giggles paired with the massive happy grin he saw on video call on the rare occasions that she could. Usually, it was voice messages or texts with the time difference, but some times she would stay up late so they could video chat, he would let the small smile grace his features when she would rub her eyes cutely and yawn. The way he would tell her to go to bed cause she is tired and she would pout innocently saying that she wasn't worn out. She would ask about his day listening as she slowly doses off, he didn't take it as an insult he just knew she was exhausted. He would sit there smiling at her sleeping face, looking like an innocent child, where she still had her phone in a light grip facing her.

"Good night, my Juliette sleep well. I love you."

"I... l-love you too my Romeo" would often be mumbled back, in her half-dazed state. With Akaashi's love of literature, Y/n just slipped it out once called him her Romeo and ever since it stuck.

Running his finger around the rim of his glass he sighed, it had been a few days since he had heard from her, he knew she was busy he had seen on her Twitter and Instagram that they added more tour dates in America as they stadiums had sold out. It had been eight months since the pair were actually in person together.

"AKAASHI!" He flinched at Bokuto's sudden loudness as said boy appeared next to him. "Why so, mopey? Oh, you're missing Y/n aren't you!"

"Hey my Romeo, I'm sorry I haven't called or texted you in a while, the tour has gotten so hectic recently we are doing two shows a day, so most of my fans can come, and watch and my manager wants to add even more dates." He smiled, enjoying the sound of her voice even if it is over voicemail, and she sounded exhausted. He had woken up for work and seen that he had missed a call from her at three am. "I know you're going to ask when I am going to be home, but I don't know at the moment, but soon I hope I'm going to tell my manager that I need a break. I hope to be home for Christmas."

Rolling his eyes, he shrugged and gave a slight nod to Bokuto's question.

Bokuto suddenly felt terrible for Akaashi. He didn't know how he felt. He didn't have a love like Akaashi. His passion is for Volleyball is his true love right now. He remembered the day he introduced Akaashi and Y/n. She was at an after-party of a game that the Black Jackals won and Bokuto dragged Akaashi along. It was like the couple connected instantly and they soon got together. Bokuto would often turn up at Akaashi's find them sprawled out on the sofa, Y/n with her head in his lap, his fingers running through he hair as he read a book to her. Bokuto had gotten many pictures of them like this. He loved how relaxed Akaashi was around her, a way he hadn't seen with anyone else.

He knew that she was going to say that.

"Anyway I miss you my Romeo, I cannot wait to be home and in your arms again. I want to be in our little bubble of love and cuddles, of you reading to me while you play with my hair. I want to be in the studio with you listening to me sing my new songs and telling me which words would work better with the lyrics I have written." He laughed he did often sit in the studio with her after he finishes work, reading over her new lyrics and crossing out the odd word and putting one that worked better with the theme of the song. He loved watching her pick at the strings of her acoustic guitar playing a few cords and seeing if they worked when she ran her fingers over the keys of the piano. He loved that she could play different instruments.

"I love you so much, Romeo. I hope you sleep well. See you as soon as I can. Bye-bye, my sweet Romeo."

About three weeks later he was sat at his desk eating his lunch, watch the recent interview Y/n had with OK! Magazine.

'So Y/n, when the tour is over what is the first thing you're going to do?' Chloe, the interviewer, asked

'I think it will be sleep we've had some busy months recently, most days doing two shows to it is hard work.' He laughed along with his beloved.

'We've been keeping up to date on your social media, who is this Romeo you keep mentioning, we often see and I quote, I miss you my sweet Romeo, or I love you, Romeo.' He would always reply, but his account was private so no one unless they followed him and accepted it.

'My Romeo is waiting for me at home; I promised him I wouldn't mention him until he is ready for the spotlight as he isn't an actor or musician. But he is my Romeo, and I am very excited to get home and be with him again.' He was so glad that she didn't spill the beans about their relationship. He already had enough of the spotlight with being friends with most of the Black Jackals team, he already has his pictures in magazines when the team goes out, and he gets dragged along with Kuroo by Bukoto and Hinata.

'Can you tell us one thing about him?' Chloe pushed for more details about him. He loved how Y/n's nose would scrunch up, and her left eyebrow would shoot up as he tapped her chin in thought.

'He was a volleyball setter in high school.' She smiled. Akaashi smirked at the fact she gave, there were many setters across the world, and narrowing down to him would be hard. 'And he is my bookworm,'

'A setter and bookworm, those don't often go together!' Chloe laughed, with Y/n soon joining her.

'I know, and I have Shoyo Hinata and Kotaro Bokuto. But honestly, if it wasn't for him I'm sure some of my songs wouldn't make sense, a lot of my lyrics in my book have his scribbles in changing the odd word here and there, I would often wake up finding him hovering over my lyrics book a mug of coffee in hand proofreading them for me.'

He couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips at the dig at Bokuto and Hinata's dislike for books.

'He sound's like a gem! But back to the fact you've met the Black Jackals numbers twenty-one and thirteen. What are they like?"

"I've met them all I know all the Black Jackals, all their school friends too, I met them all after a match against the Cheehle Ekaterinburg, an old friend Morisuke Yaku I knew from my middle school days invited me along, and that was where I met them. Those two boys even though they were bouncing around the court like anything they still had so much energy, I was shocked that anyone could keep up with them, it was like they were children who had just walked out of an all you can eat sweetshop.'

This caused Chloe to giggle. He liked the way Y/n slyly slipped in how they met.

'this Romeo of yours you didn't happen to meet him through your old middle school friend, did you? At this party' Akaashi's eyes widen as the interviewer hit the nail on the head, he was impressed at how Y/n kept her facial expression in check, just the usual smile she used for interviews,

Saturday 5th of December 2015 was the day that Y/n finally returned home. She didn't tell Akaashi she was on her, she knew from Bokuto that they would be at his favourite restaurant that serves his favourite food, Nanohana no Karashiae, in a private room at the back. She drove her car into the car park of the restaurant, taking a deep breath she pulled on her cap and her dark sunglasses as she got out and walked into the restaurant, telling the waiter that she was here for the Bokuto party he nodded and showed her to the door.

'Ah, well it was through mutual friends that we met.' He loved how she deflected the question, not letting them on that it was at the party they met.

He leaned his phone against the pen pot on his desk, leaving the video to play, while he got on with his work, the questions had now turned to make-up and what shampoo she was using.

"Thanks, I'll be fine from here." She knew from the photo that Bokuto had put up on Twitter that Akaashi had his back to the door, purposely done for this exact reason. Pulling off the hat and glasses, she quietly opened the door slipping in and once again quietly shutting it. The room slowly went quiet as eyes suddenly locked on to her figure. Akaashi frowned at his friends, why did everyone stop talking all of a sudden and why Bokuto and Kuroo had whipped out their phones, pointing it at him, till he started to follow their line of sight.

"Happy birthday Romeo." She giggled as he slowly placed her back on the floor, their foreheads resting against one another.

"I'm home, my Romeo." His eyes instantly locked with hers the second he heard her voice, as the smiles so wide crossed their faces as he flew out of his seat wrapping her up in his arms, tightly as if he loosen his grip she would disappear again, he spun her around. He was ecstatic she was home.

Nine months, eleven days, sixteen hours and thirty-eight minutes since the last time he held her in his arms. Since he lasted kissed her. Since he last looked into her beautiful deep e/c eyes.

"You are the best birthday present I could ever ask for." He said as he entwined his fingers into her hair, pulling her into a deep kiss that was long overdue.

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

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The marriage pact - London bits

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 14 | Part 15 London bits | Part 16 >

Disclaimer: some strong language

Author’s note: It was so much fun to do some actual research on Jersey’s history - even though it is only mentioned very briefly in this chapter.

Word count: 1.265

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

One can find and do many things on our Jersey island, its rich soil housing some 107.000 inhabitants. But as it appears, the world has more to offer than multi-horned sheep, lovely beaches and close knitted communities. Today I’m once more writing from the metropolitan city of London, my journey taking me to meet some ex-inhabitants of our beloved Jersey.

In this “Old Faces goes London”, I’ll be visiting a baker who decided to bring his infamous Jersey-rolls to the great City of London, a linguist who strives to keep Jèrriais (our territories unique Norman dialect) alive and I’ll be having a cup of tea with an exporter of Jersey’s very own apple cider. Yum!

And, as time is ticking I will now bid you all adieu. Or, to keep it in the Jèrriais realms;

À bétôt!

Ali

‘Morning.’ Henry pressed a kiss on my cheek while he brushed past me, his hands busy with making toast while I prepped some lunch boxes. It was 6 AM on a Tuesday and, though I was far from awake, I did admit that I felt quite happy being here, in Henry’s Mews kitchen.

In the far corner I could hear Kal hogging down some food after an even more ungodly early doggy walk - from which I thankfully had been spared - and before long the kitchen was filled with lovely scents and we were all enjoying our breakfast.

‘Sleep well?’ I said, keeping my voice down as the walls were rather thin. Henry nodded, cup of coffee hovering beneath his nose, cheeks dimpling with a tender smile. ‘Sure did. Though looks like you are STILL sleeping.’ He laughed. ‘Mmm... I’m very much enjoying this dream, thank you very much. So please, allow me.’

‘Then so I will. So what are you up to today?’ He took a hesitant sip of the far too hot drink, scrunching his nose as he nearly burned his tongue, then decided to put it down, his hands instead moving to cut into the toast, his egg all gooey perfection as it oozed out onto the plate. I could see Kal push his head on Henry’s lap, hoping that his puppy eyes were enough of a persuader to earn himself some bacon. But apparently it was just another part of their morning routine, Henry’s hand near automatically running through the Akita’s fur before returning to his breakfast, no bacon bits shared in the process.

Sweet bears.

‘Going to have an interview with that baker in a little over an hour, then visiting that publisher followed by some work calls. You?’

‘No baker interviews unfortunately,’ He smiled. ‘Just meetings. Meetings, meetings, meetings.’ Henry shrugged, obviously not looking forward to it. ‘Oh..What do you want to do for dinner by the way?’ He inquired.

‘Eh…eat food?’ I grinned, earning an exasperated look from him. ‘Hahah..sorry..but eh..let’s just cook something at home. Shall I cook or..?’

‘Cooking as home is good, sure. And, Ali, honestly..I’m not THAT traditional. Maybe let’s just say that the first person who gets home, cooks? That seems to be more fair.’ He said simply, hogging down onto another huge bite.

‘Very well then, my fair feminist knight.’ I winked, also cutting into my toast, my nose sniffing happily as the savoury scents drifted into my nostrils. Gosh, how nice it was to be with a man that could cook!

—

Still somewhat catching my breath from hurrying from meeting to meeting, I sat before one man called Charles Dunham, his golden nameplate shining proudly on his paper-filled mahogany desk. From the moment I had gotten into his office, it became clear that the old, fat cheeked man was most eager to get me on board; a good cup of coffee and some cookies were moved onto the last remaining bit of his space on his overcrowded desk and before I could even take my first sip of the welcome drink, the offer was already on the table.

‘Simply said; we adore your stories. And from a business point of view we see great potential. You have a solid fan base, and we recently released a similar storybook for adults that sold like hot buns on the Sunday market,’ He grinned happily, throwing three cubes of sugar in his coffee and mixing it with a freakishly small spoon. ‘So we are more than glad to develop this project with you.’

I blinked over the rim of the cup of coffee, hot steam raising up from the porcelain. HOLY DAMN! I let out a soft giggle and smiled. ‘My…alright then. I had expected to have to give you my sales pitch and perhaps a kidney or two. I mean, I even made a whole presentation, but this is far better. Thank you so much for your trust and enthusiasm Mr. Dunham, it truly means the world!’

Mr. Dunham chuckled. ‘And the world better be ready. How about we start editing a first version in the next few months, fine-tune a few things? Oh, and I did have one small question; are these based on actual people?’

‘Some are inspired by a mix of people I know, though all characters are definitely fictional in nature.’

‘Well, perhaps you COULD add a slight reference to Superman, since he’s from the Islands as well. Our readers would surely love that.’

I felt my stomach somersault again. Oh Mr. Dunham..if only you knew.

‘Haha..well. We might have to look into copyrights there, but it sure is true that we, I, adore our homeland hero.’ I winked.

—

Oh the homeland hero. I did adore him, indeed. In fact I craved him really.

The moment I had gotten back to Jersey I felt like I had left a piece of myself back with Henry. Suddenly the air was bleak and my parents house was not my home anymore, the large but comfortable house feeling like but a shell of what it had been just days earlier. And it got even weirder when I was laying in bed.

Here I was, alone, my hand outstretched to the spot where he would lay if we would sleep together. I even tried to sniff the pillow he had slept on, to see if any of his scent perhaps lingered there.

It didn’t.

It had been a strangely eventful day today. First the very early flight, a sleepy Henry - quite unique to find in the mornings - driving me to the airport. And then the near desperate hugs and kisses we shared, followed by a restless flight. And then I had to quickly drop off my stuff before heading to another doctors appointment. This time for one of a more invasive nature; a number of physical tests had to be performed so I could enlist for a sperm donor. My plan B. Just in case everything failed with Henry.

But, in all honesty, it felt more and more like a doom scenario I was increasingly less comfortable with. Did I want to become a single parent, if all of this failed? Was that really my dream? Or was a child just a result of something greater I truly wanted, something I had pushed away and hidden from my still beating heart. Did I actually want something quite different?

Did I want..eh..love, actually?

As I lay there looking at the ceiling, small glow-in-the-dark stars speckling the otherwise dark surface, I came to the bitter tasting realisation that I had not really taken into account that there was suddenly this extra person who had come into the equation. This person I had wild make-out sessions with on my parents couch, as well finding in him the person who offers a listening ear and who would consolidate me and be there during a doctors appointment.

He cared and was obviously not really wanting to leave. And I, to be even more honest with myself, well, I didn’t want him to leave either. I needed to keep him close and listen to him if I wanted this to last.

Rolling on my side I picked up my phone. 11.30 PM. He’d probably be sleeping now. I bit my lip and decided to text him, even if he’d only read it in the morning.

“I just tried to sniff the pillow but your scent is gone. I miss you😢”

Quite immediately a message returned. A selfie, taken with a flash in the starkness of a dark bedroom. Henry’s face sulkily grabbing onto a pillow. “That makes two. I miss you three!”

I giggled, silly bear, then imitated his picture, taking one myself, his pillow squeezed tightly in my arm, head resting on top. “Sweet dreams bear. I’ll keep your pillow safe.”

And then a little voice chat message came in, his silky deep voice filling my heart with joy; ‘Sweet dreams Ali.’

Oh sweet were my dreams indeed.

If only..if only he were here to share them with me.

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