#I did a bit of solo play for balance testing

[wlw-webcomic-bracket]

For the second voting round of the Yuri Olympics (theme: consumption), I created a short narrative-focused Sleepless Domain TTRPG for two players. One plays as Goop, trying to convince Tessa to abandon hope and give in to possession. The other plays as her friends, family, and anyone else who wants to keep her safe.

If you play it and enjoy it, I’d love to know!

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

actually now I'm curious.

EDIT: Right, my personal experience is D&D 3.5, years of PF1e, a quick bout of Call of Cthulu, a year long campaign of Changeling the dreaming, Some d100 fallout thing, big campaign of Shadowrun 5e, D&D 5e, and PF2e. Haven't gotten to play PF2e in an actual campaign though, just watching and studying and running through mini adventures solo to balance test. Which is sad, but the only group I'm part of that plays it currently includes someone I'm not inclined to play with again. Also, have sat in on plenty of VtM and a bit of the Witcher RPG (and heard the tale of the campaigns like 10 times to the point I know it well.)

Most of it was PF1e. While I did enjoy my 3 year 5e campaign once I got dragged over, I'm glad to be slinking back home to Paizo. Changeling the Dreaming is my second favorite system. D&D 5e behind it. I feel like PF2e will knock PF1e down to 3rd of 4th once I can actually play the damn thing, but for now my mastery and nostalgia keep it at 1st.

[owlsie-hoot]

ACGAS 05x01 "To All Our Boys"

After a horrible evening where my internet decided to stop working at exactly 10pm (CET, I am not in the UK), I finally had time to rewatch the entire episode in one go without interruptions.

My initial grumpiness has disappeared now. Thankfully.

It might not have been an episode 3.1 or 4.1 but it was a wonderful start to the fifth series that reminded us of many wonderful moments in the past by constantly giving us parallels to earlier episodes.

brucellosis

James's mixing up two cats

both were also black cats

Audrey's time in the WRENS

James's first bus ride into Darrowby

James's first solo case + the case that brought him back to Darrowby

which was then extended to Siegfried giving Carmody more responsibility

Salut D'Amour being played in the background of the uniform scene

Siegfried being speechless when seeing Audrey in an unexpected outfit

a dog finding shelter at Skeldale because the owner went to war

James and Siegfried talking about war and family like in 4.5 and Siegfried DID take care of Helen like he promised- together with Audrey

There might be even more moments. The structure of the episode was also interesting and yes, I always notice such things. It's not nitpicking, far from it, it's just how I watch things and might be related to the fact that I read too many books and studied literature at one point and therefore approach everything I watch and read with my literary analysis glasses on.

We start in Darrowby and are introduced to the local WI and ARP group, the Home Front war effort. It is contrasted with scenes from the RAF base and we switch back and forth between "getting ready to fight" and "the warm family home that is Skeldale". There is the family getting used to black out regulations versus planes getting ready for the first long distance flight. The family vibes are so strong in the first quarter of the episode with Siegfried being the perfect uncle/surrogate granddad and Audrey being more his wife than the housekeeper. It is clear that the vibe at Skeldale has shifted to something much more familial and relaxed.

Then we get the second quarter of the episode when James's illness is revealed, the war effort picks up and Carmody's suggested triage system is put to the test. We cover a few days and not just a few hours until the missing cat is found and the groundwork is laid for the denouement of the storylines.

A third quarter then features almost exclusively James with only two small scenes from Skeldale and Darrowby that sadly are a bit short and feel as if something is missing. That was my least favourite bit of the episode because until then everything had felt really balanced.

Finally we bookend the episode by James's return, the return to Darrowby and Skeldale. To the warmth of the house and the family. All the storylines are concluded and Audrey appears in her new uniform for the first time and leaves Siegfried completely stunned and overwhelmed. That, and the many baby moments Siegfried had as well as the constant bright smile on Audrey's face when she looked at him, was my favourite bit. The way she just went to Bosworth, told him she can totally do it because she has all the qualifications and then just slays it! It was her decision, no need to ask Siegfried. She knows that he will not say no to it anyway. He is in fact proud and absolutely mesmerised by her and her bright smile and flustered question if she looks daft show us how far they have come. Audrey lives her own life. She might be in Siegfried's employ but that is by now only a formality if we're honest. The scene Siegfried then shares with James also suggests that he stays up until Audrey has returned. Everyone else has gone to bed after all. It is 11:10pm. With the two dogs cuddled up in front of the fireplace representing Audrey and Siegfried we leave him there in his armchair, waiting for his friend and companion (and housekeeper last) to return safely from her first shift.

[roadandruingame]

RaR Musings #22: Tested

I took the opportunity offered by a few friends to run a Road and Ruin playtest. It single-handedly renewed my loathing of ttrpgs: players are the single biggest vulnerability in a tabletop roleplaying game, and between forgetting what day it was, double booking their free time by mistake, double booking their free time ON PURPOSE, and lacking the energy, the creativity, or the enthusiasm to play for long, I was reminded why I wanted to make Road and Ruin capable of single-player play.

Such designs ended up working out for the better, though. Despite attempting to play pretend as three separate players (not characters; that would have been easy enough), I stripped the rules explanation down to the most bare bones needed to play the game. Surprising myself, that turned out to not include character creation, the play element I had spent the largest amount of time designing and reworking over the years. When all you need is the situational recognition of "a rogue, a paladin, and a washed-up oracle walk into a bar", it doesn't so much matter what all the stats of everyone are, and content-generation tools were predictable enough that they could be used to generate character stats when, and if, they ended up being relevant. Each character only had 1/9 attributes defined by the end of a rickety 40-minute intro session, made all the slower by me having to play the game essentially solo, but not in any way delayed by having to do character creation, or made more rocky by the fact character creation hadn't really occurred.

If I'd wanted to improv an entire on-rails fantasy themepark by myself for the amusement of people who'll blow off the event altogether, I'd have bit the bullet and DM'd a game of Dungeons and Dragons.

___________________

So, what else did we learn.

Firstly, that I should probably take my own [repeated] advice and simplify the character creation/progression elements of the game. If the game can run purely on generative elements, "It Does/Does Not" confirmation of theory, and extremely loose character definitions, then doing the legwork for attributes and subattributes, 60+ dual-proficiencies and skill specializations, and using xp to buy spells and abilities up a chain of ranks doesn't really seem as important.

Second, that despite how easily content could be hallucinated by random prompt and adjusted via +/- 1 of any stat, I really do need to get started on a catalogue of content that can be quickly and readily accessed by players who aren't as attuned to the game's themes and balancing.

Being able to easily grab hold of some example creatures, like a fox or an elephant, to +/- my way to a fantastical monster statblock, was part of what gave me the confidence to try to fly the story into that of a monster fight (even if it wasn't in the cards. Literally, the cards deconfirmed my theory). But characters of other races, or more specific class builds? Generating environments, like a cave network? A system for magic items, or artifacts of indeterminate narrative importance? Any amount I hesitated in coming up with random results for such things would be multiplied five, ten, a hundredfold for players unfamiliar with the system, or unfamiliar with ttrpgs or creativity in the first place. Granted, this "GM responsibility" is often handled by ttrpg players and game masters, but I wanted to smooth that out as much as possible.

______________

As an additional note to the above: I see a lot of ttrpg designers in forums and on reddit bandy about the notion of how martial classes are meant to be able to compete with spellcasters (spellcasters were never supposed to compete with martials, the fact they can is a design flaw), and how to make things feel more impactful, more rewarding tactically, and less prone to rng failure.

I'm feeling that when I go over the character creation/skills section of the game, that there needs to have more 'big' moments: that you have multiple expensive features to spend a limited resource on, but that said resource isn't so limited that you couldn't use it more than once. Players should feel rewarded and cool for spending those resources, but it shouldn't simply be "press button to win" type designs, either. It's something I'm going to have to think about some more.

[lukas-dark-miracles]

A New Gospel || Solo

TIMING: About Twenty Years ago

SUMMARY: Lizzie, turning the kind Father Lukas, realizes that she needs to inspire him if he’s going to continue along. Thus, a new dark Gospel is written.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Self Harm tw, Religious Trauma tw

Elżbieta was used to sireing and, more importantly, how to guide someone through the beginning of their vampirism. She was fond of it. It was an amusement to see humans slowly transition to becoming vampires - and honestly, most of the time, it was the only entertainment she had now. Seeing places rise and fall was always fun, but there was something almost special about knowing they were her handiwork.

Which is why she wasn't too fond when she heard a commotion upstairs in her richly decorated home that sounded like Lukas was doing something silly again. While he was never mean or even unkind - he was difficult. While her other fledglings quickly gave up silly notions of religion and ethics, the Priest seemed to cling to them - even when they hurt him. She had a feeling that he was doing exactly that. Sighing, she got up from her latest novel and pondered what she should do to ease some of the guilt.

Then it hit her. Something she could do to stop all of this nonsense as she climbed the stairs. After all, Lukas was a man of God, was he not? And what was she if not an Angel. Were they not supposed to be guiding lights? He already thought she was one; he called her an Angel, so she would play that role.

Going into the darkened room, she couldn't help but see him like she could vaguely recall someone in a Church pew. He was kneeling on the ground, candles around him, looking very much like the Catholic Priest he once was. If it wasn't for the obvious misery in his body, she might have even said it looked peaceful. Taking in the scene momentarily, she moved in front of him, waiting for him to notice her.

Once he did, Lizzie kneeled before him, mirroring his custom and taking in the Priest she had changed. Even now, he looked like goodness, even if his face was contorted with pain as he finally broke. He looked haunted, his body shaking. "I can't. I can't keep holding it. What sort of punishment is this? Why can't I hold it? What did I do that was so wrong," He cried out, his eyes looking towards hers in a wild way. He looked more like a wounded cat than a human. He looked like he was in agony.

She soon found the source of his pain as his hands were carefully wrapped in a Rosary that she could have sworn she'd thrown out. He must have fished it out of the trash carefully, wanting once again to pray for sins that he had committed. It was a pain in the ass that he kept doing so - but now she couldn't seem to find any anger in it. Not when his hands were shaking so hard his body was vibrating lightly. Not when he sounded like he was about to break. It wouldn't do, truly. She could already see his hands were red and raw - the beads that must have once given him comfort now burning in as he seemingly had tried to pray a rosary round. She was sure he hadn't gotten past the Apostle's creed, his hand still clutching the Crucifix in his palm like it was his only tether to earth.

Maybe it was.

"Lukas, this isn't a punishment," Lizzie said softly, her brown eyes catching his as she pulled her shawl off to gently cover his hands. She could feel the burning under it; she didn't want to touch the Rosary at all. She gently pushed the beads off his hands, seeing idly that he had managed to burn his skin badly this time. She doubted that it would heal to nothing. He was going to have to live with those scars. Tugging the Crucifix out of his hand with the bottom of the shawl, she could see how he almost immediately relaxed. She could tell it already felt a bit better than letting go of a hot pan. It still burned, but it wasn't hell anymore.

"It's a test. You know when I talked to you about balance, correct? That the world needs both light and dark?" She said gently, taking his hands into hers as she examined him. She would have to wrap them up when he was calmer. She couldn't remember if they had talked about it, but she also doubted that he could remember anything right now. "It's just a test. As you know, the light has gotten too strong, and we need to balance again. Like I told you, that's why we need to spread the word that what people think is evil is just allowing nature to settle. You and I are just as needed as those who walk around in the light. To know peace, you must have war looming. Once we get people to understand that - to accept the darkness in their souls, we can all be saved." Her voice almost turned into a coo as he slowly calmed down; his hands slowly stopped tremoring in her hands.

"We need to show them the dark, then? People can be saved if we show them the dark?" Lukas said unsurely - like a small child trying to understand mortality. It almost made Lizzie smile - the fact that he was so simple to think that anyone would be saved.

"Exactly that, little mouse," She said, watching him flinch slightly at the nickname. He must have remembered her whispering that when she was stabbing him. Pity she liked that endearment. "Because we cannot show them through the light, we will show them through the dark. We will have people's worse and not try to fix them but accept them. We will let them do their worst to test the light, and when it becomes a standstill, we will know that we were right."

Lukas looked at her again, with those wide blue eyes that seemed too light for a monster. What an awfully interesting dichotomy - a man and a monster. Before she could ponder more, he replied with a voice still hollowed from crying, "You're right. Of course, you're right."

Standing up and now leaning over the much taller man, Lizzie hid her smile as she kissed his forehead cradling his face as she did, her thumb brushing over the stubble he couldn't seem to grow out. Leaning down towards his ear, she wondered if he could hear the smile in her voice as she gently said, "Stop hurting yourself, Starlight. You need to tell the people what you've learned and lead them. I can't do it by myself. I'm getting too close to my change. You're my only hope. So you must be strong for us."

It was a gentle lie and one that Lukas did seem to respond to, his head bowing as she put her arms around him, this nickname apparently not attached to pain. She could feel him sobbing as he finally seemed to accept something big that she had no idea the nature of. She wondered idly if he actually believed her; he shouldn't. She had never once cared about the masses - why should she? In the grand scheme, only the strong survived anyway. Sure, she cared about individuals as much as she could, but she very much had given up any sense of common bonds between people as a whole.

Still, maybe this would save him, something she couldn't help but want. She wanted to see Lukas back to the man with the sparkling blue eyes she had found so intriguing. She wanted him to be intelligent and gently wise again. She wanted to see that light that had almost blinded her, that kindness she had not been accustomed to in years. While she had wanted him to be changed, she hadn't wanted to break Lukas. She had tried to form him into something grander than a short human life.

So yes, if this meant he would finally escape the despair that seemed to fill his soul, it would be worth it. Even if she would have to pretend that there was some sort of higher meaning. After all, what was a little lie for a man's soul? He may become more interesting than the hollowed man she'd left him.

She couldn't wait to see what a preacher man would do with a corrupt gospel. Would he create a flock - she'd let him do so. Would he turn to hate God? That might also be interesting to see the venom from a righteously angry pan turned from the light as harshly as he was. What would he do with this new idea that the dark also was necessary and that salvation could come from treachery? She wasn't sure, and for the first time in decades, Lizzie was excited to see the outcome.

[mknerd]

"One Bite" (Original) [III]

Note: This story takes place directly after the events of "The Text". Please read that first before reading this to not be confused! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2203

Ah, the fabled number-one wing stop in town... Wise Moose.

The restaurant was everything one would expect out of a new spot: a clean brick-and-mortar building with greenery around the perimeter, clean windows that gave way to a preview of the patrons and the workers serving them, and of course - because it has to live up to its name - a giant neon sign depicting a cartoon moose grinning while holding chicken wings in its hands.

Wait, hands? Don't moose just have hooves or whatever?

Disregarding the unimportant question, I pulled out my phone to check the time.

6:58 PM.

Maya was nowhere in sight. I started to get antsy. There was still two minutes to the hour, but two minutes isn't exactly what one would say is a long period of time. Almost immediately, my brain conjured excuses: she probably ran into a familiar face and got distracted, or maybe, she got stuck in traffic. Traffic has never been great in my town; in fact, with the way people drive around here, I always assumed they got their licenses because the DMV just wanted them to stay far away from their facilities. Then again, I wasn't sure if Maya even knew how to drive. Perhaps she might just appear out of thin air or run around the corner, waving me down while trying not to lose balance and falling flat on the sidewalk.

Or maybe she wasn't coming...

I looked back at my phone.

6:59 PM.

I started to wonder if it was just a waste of time, if Maya was just playing some sort of sick prank on me. There was no way she would just appear at the last minute. Defeated, I slid my phone back into my pocket and turned around.

"Boo!" Maya exclaimed as I fully turned around.

My spirit nearly flung out of my physical body as I raised my hands in front of myself. I don't know what sound emitted from my mouth, but it must've been something unusual as Maya covered her mouth trying to stifle her uncontrollable laughter.

"Are you okay?" Maya asked teary-eyed, still giggling at what she did.

"I will be as soon as my adrenaline calms down," I nervously chuckled while taking a deep breath, my heart still feeling as though it were playing an intense drum solo.

"Well, Smokey, time to go taste test the wings, huh?" Maya said with a grin as she opened the door for me.

"Wow, and here I thought chivalry went the way of the dodo," I remarked in a playful tone as I walked through the entrance way.

I absorbed the ambiance of the restaurant. The windows didn't do it justice; it had the usual characteristics expected of a wing place such as a bar with a wall containing an assortment of alcohol and the scent and sight of a wide array of dishes the spot had to offer. But like many places in my town, it seemed to be covered with artisan influences, mainly the color palette and design. It was illuminated enough to see food on a plate but not too much where it felt harsh and blinding. The muted color palette of an off-white cream and coffee brown gave it a modern and almost fancy-like appearance - a bit ironic for a restaurant that mainly sold chicken wings as the main food of choice.

Maya and I approached the counter and retrieved a menu from there. Sure enough, the front of the paper menu had the logo and name of the restaurant. We looked through and saw a rather wide array of items to choose from: wings, of course, but they also sold burgers and other appetizers like mozzarella cheese sticks and their "famous" loaded potato skins.

"How do you like your wings?" Maya asked curiously, still perusing through the sizeable menu.

"Eh, I'm not a fan of anything too saucy," I answered. "If they have dry rub wings, I think I'll go with that."

As we were still pondering our selection, an employee met us from across the counter.

"Welcome to Wise Moose Wings," the associate greeted us with an upbeat tone. "Have you two decided on what you wanted?"

"Uh, yeah, actually," Maya answered confidently, "I will have the 10-count wood-fired chipotle dry rub wings, bone-in, with a small side of... Cajun French fries, please."

The associate nodded his head as he entered Maya's order on the register's computer.

"Okay, 10-count wood-fired chipotle dry rub wings with a small Cajun French fry," he repeated. "And what sauce would you like with that order?"

"Ranch, please," Maya answered.

The associate entered more information into the computer.

"Alright, anything else?" The associate asked, directing his focus to me.

"Will?" Maya gently spoke, checking to see if I was ready to order.

But I was not...

I mean, for goodness sake, there was a plethora of flavors to choose from. Do I stick with a dry rub? Maybe try saucy wings? Bone-in? Bone-out? There were so many choices to go with, and yet I couldn't-.

"He'll have the same thing with ranch, please," Maya intervened.

The associate nodded and entered the information into the computer.

"Okay, two orders of the dry rub wings and small Cajun fries with ranch," he read aloud. "And for drinks?"

"Do you guys have strawberry lemonade?" I blurted out of nowhere. Both Maya and the associate seemed to be surprised that I was able to speak, let alone ask questions.

"Yes, actually, we make our lemonade in-house with different flavors," the associate answered.

"I'll take a small strawberry lemonade, please," I requested. I turned to Maya. "And you?"

A cute, closed-mouth smile appeared on her face. I could see in her eyes that I made her proud somehow.

"I'll have the same," Maya answered, directing her attention back to the associate.

The associate typed more information into the computer before looking up to the both of us.

"Alright, your total is going to be $29.34," the associate informed us.

Huh, that wasn't bad, I thought. I was ready to pay 40 or 50 bucks.

As I reached for my wallet to pull out my debit card, I looked over to Maya, who had her smartphone on top of the register's card reader. It made a quick three-note jingle before a small piece of paper came out of a printer near it.

"Alright, here's your receipt," the associate said as he tore it from the printer and handed it to Maya. "We'll bring your food to your table when it's ready!"

"Sounds good, thank you," Maya replied as she retrieved the receipt from the associate as she turned to find us a table.

"Oh, I was gonna cover the food," I said with my wallet still in my hand.

Maya chuckled. "That's kind of you, Will, but I invited you out to try the place. I'm not gonna make you pay; that would be weird of me."

That's actually a good point. I'm glad that we progressed as a society where a woman being chivalrous to a man is not seen as a weird phenomenon.

We immediately found a table with a decent view of the restaurant’s kitchen and took a seat. For the first few seconds, we leaned onto the surface of the table, looking rather intently at each other.

"So..." I began.

"So..." Maya jokingly mocked.

"'Smokey'?" I asked with a grin.

"You're just asking about that?" Maya laughed. "Looks like the cigarette and I are neck and neck when it comes to nearly killing you."

I leaned back into my chair. "I don't know about that, I could still breathe somewhat after your little scare."

"Oh, little?" Maya's eyes and grin widened as she leaned further into the table. "Did you not hear the sound you made when I scared you? You sounded like a pug getting its tail yanked!"

So that's how I sounded...

"You should've seen it," she continued, "all the people walking past us, looking at you like you lost your mind and watching me laugh like a psychopath. I'd say that's a pretty good way to start a bond, wouldn't you agree?"

"Just know that if you try that again, I might have to hurt ya," I sarcastically spoke in an exaggerated, fake Brooklyn accent while I jokingly flexed my muscles.

"Ooh, so frightening!" Maya mockingly replied, rolling her eyes while still grinning.

A server approached our table, balancing a tray on his hand while putting the plates of food and beverages down on the table one at a time.

"Alright, you guys, here are your wings, fries, and lemonade," the server said. "I hope you guys enjoy!"

"Thank you, you, too!" I replied.

I realized I made a mistake.

The associate walked away, and I immediately darted my focus to Maya, whose lips were tucked inside her mouth exactly like she did earlier at the café.

"Don't say it," I said in a hushed tone through gritted teeth, raising my index finger in her direction.

"Is he gonna eat your food, too?" Maya jokingly asked, trying not to laugh and embarrass me.

I chuckled and shook my head. "Let's just give these wings a taste test, shall we?"

We both picked up a flat wing and bumped them together.

"Cheers!" We both exclaimed.

As I was about to take a bite of the chicken wing, Maya inserted the entire wing into her mouth. She bit down and wiggled the wing around for a bit before pulling out clean bones from her mouth and placed it on her plate.

"Oh, yeah, this is gonna become a regular spot for me," Maya spoke, still chewing the meat from the wing.

I sat there, mouth agape after witnessing her cleaning a wing in one bite, and she quickly noticed.

"What, you've never seen someone clean a flat like that before?" Maya covered her mouth, seemingly embarrassed that she did that in front of me without hesitation.

"Nope," I confidently replied as I inserted the wing into my mouth, gently biting down on the two bones and wiggling it around before pulling out clean bones and placing it on my plate. "I just haven't met another person besides me that could.”

Maya's eyes widened as she grabbed another wing. "You must watch a bunch of competitive eaters online, don't you? That's where I learned how to do it."

"Yeah, actually," I replied. "It's a cool and effective way to clean a wing."

After much time had passed, multiple topics were discussed, many wings were cleaned, and before we knew it, the plates of food before us were empty, save for the bones left on them.

"So, Maya, how do we rate the food?" I inquired as I took the final sips of my refreshing strawberry lemonade.

"Hmm," Maya pondered as she rubbed her chin, "well, I don't like number ratings. They're too arbitrary, especially when you start throwing decimals in there. I'll say that the size of the wings and the flavor and juiciness of the tender meat were well worth the price. The fries were pretty good, especially with that Cajun seasoning. You made the right call with the strawberry lemonade. It had a great balance of sweet and tartness, and it was so refreshing. Overall, I'd say that Wise Moose gets the highly-acclaimed Maya star!"

"Wow, I don't think anything can top a Maya star," I chuckled as I emerged from the table feeling very satisfied. "But you hit it right on the money, this place is definitely gonna be a regular spot for me, too."

We made our way to the restaurant door as we thanked the associates and waved goodbye. This time, I opened the door for Maya.

"Did you enjoy feeling gentleman-like just now?" Maya grinned as she walked out of the restaurant.

"I had to do it this time," I smiled as I walked out behind her.

"Well, Will, I enjoyed myself tonight, and it was fun hanging out with you and not letting you die," Maya spoke sweetly.

"You wouldn't have let me die if I came close to it, would you?" I jokingly asked.

"Oh, boy, it's getting late, huh?" Maya joked as she comically pulled out her phone and putting it extremely close to her face. We both laughed before she put it back in her pocket. "I would hang out a bit longer, but you know, those bills..."

"They don't pay themselves," I added.

Maya smiled and wrapped her arms around my neck. I followed up by wrapping mine around her waist and gently tightening my embrace.

"I'll text you when I'm free, okay?" Maya said softly.

"I'll hold you to it," I replied.

Maya pulled away and walked into the distance, just as she did earlier. But this time, I wasn't ashamed of myself. I didn't feel like a jester entertaining someone at the cost of my own dignity. I didn't have to rely on dumb luck to make progress. I didn't need to try so hard to impress someone who piqued my interest.

I was just myself, and if that's enough for her, it should be enough for me...

... right?

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #650

Top Ten Songs by Ex-Beatles

Have you heard of this sweet band called The Beatles? Turns out they were really big a few years ago. They had a bunch of hits and then broke up and then were never heard of again.

I kid, I kid. I do wonder sometimes what it must be like to be a Beatle. If you’re like, Paul McCartney; you must walk around with this knowledge that, on balance, you’ve probably had more direct influence on Western popular culture than anyone else currently alive. Who else is there? George Lucas? In terms of sheer number of people touched (not like that). You can absolutely draw a dividing line in music between “before the Beatles” and “after the Beatles”, and whilst I’m sure that does a huge disservice to all the influences the Beatles had, and similar bands that came both before and after, let’s face it – it’s true. They’re, like, the band, just like Wolverine is the X-Man (I don’t think George Lucas is the director, to be fair, but Star Wars is probably the blockbuster; Spielberg is probably the director, if you’re talking about mass appeal, but he’s “just” a guy who’s top of his game and redefined Hollywood moviemaking fifty years ago, but there are other phenomenally successful and talented directors, just as there are other phenomenally successful and talented musicians and writers and artists and, I dunno, pastry chefs. But right now we’re talking about the Beatles).

Because the Beatles were around as a proper group for a surprisingly short amount of time, and because all four of them were Very Good, they’ve had quite a while to build up a collection of solo hits. And that’s what I’m celebrating this week, for no particular reason: the various post-Beatles Beatles songs. I’m gonna come right out the gate and say, I don’t think – generally speaking – any of their solo efforts eclipsed the best of the group’s output; but still, there are some proper bangers here as I’m sure you’re aware. Soulful ballads, love songs, hymns to peace, arguably the best Bond theme, and some frogs. What more do you want out of a legacy?

Now, I’m calling these “solo” songs, when some of these are technically from post-Beatles bands – specifically I’ve got a couple of Wings songs on the list (“the band the Beatles could have been”, A. Partridge). But let’s be honest, Wings is basically Paul and his mates. As, I suppose, the Beatles was, to be fair; but for the sake of this list, as much as it may unfairly underestimate the contributions of his bandmates, I’m just calling Wings songs “Paul McCartney” songs for the time being.

I said there’s no real reason why this list is happening this week – it’s one of those that I’ve been meaning to get around to for a while – but funnily enough I did see something recently that I’ve never seen before. You may or may not be aware, but about a decade or so ago, Robert Zemeckis was going to remake Yellow Submarine. This was when he was deep in his mocap phase; you remember, when the Oscar-winning writer and director of Back to the Future and Who Framed Roger Rabbit decided to sack off live action and just make those freakishly uncanny mannequin movies like The Polar Express. Anyway, he’d assembled a cast and got to work, and then the film was cancelled – probably because these performance capture movies are very expensive to make, generally turned poorly, and more often than not bombed at the box office. As much as I’m not really a fan of the photo-real approach Zemeckis usually went for (like I said, it gives the characters an odd, uncanny look; the same is true, I’d argue, of the human characters in the Shrek movies, which have dated a lot more than, say, the cartoonish Incredibles), I’ve always thought this was a bit of a shame. Zemeckis is a huge Beatles fan, the guys playing the band were really good, and the wackiness of Yellow Submarine meant he might have been able to do some funky shit. And lo and behold, some test footage has emerged. Yes, it’s still a bit weird and uncanny, but it’s also exaggerated and strange; it would have been nice to see if it had held up across an entire film. C’est la vie.

Anyway! Where were we? Oh yeah. A list. Here you go: have at it.

My Sweet Lord (George Harrison, 1970): Harrison wrote a number of songs that are really spiritualistic peans to peace, and this is the greatest. An evocation to the almighty, a striving quest for spiritual understanding, but also something that feels greater, feels allegorical, feels like it’s about more than just God. The Hindi chorus and other eastern influences add flavour and complexity to the sixties-style folk rock, and Harrison’s voice is beautiful. There’s a sadness to it, too, like it’s someone reaching for something they know they can never possess.

Live and Let Die (Paul McCartney, 1973): surely a shoe-in for best Bond song, this is a multifaceted number that I adore for its eccentricities. From the vaguely seventies-folk-rock stylings of the opening, to the almost disco-flavoured instrumental section, to the weird jaunty bits (“When you’ve got a job to do,” sounds like it could be the title song from “Oh James!”, a cheesy sixties sitcom about James Bond), it really runs the gamut. It’s strange, it’s funny, it’s cool, it’s badass. Perfect Bond.

Jealous Guy (John Lennon, 1971): there are, funnily enough, a couple of songs here that seem to express a similar sentiment: a bloke who’s in love with someone and sort of feels he doesn’t deserve them. This is an interesting and complex song, a man apologising for his misdeeds, but presented as an absolute love song. Lennon – arguably the best voice of the band? What do we think? – is on top form here, with a pained, haunted, but ultimately beautiful vocal.

What is Life (George Harrison, 1971): an incredibly upbeat, propulsive love song, and – vaguely similar to Jealous Guy and Maybe I’m Amazed – another one that sees a bloke basically saying he’s nothing without his love. What is life without you by my side? Whether this question is passionate or even metaphysical, the song itself is so beautifully cheery, so optimistic, so jaunty, it makes you feel only good things.

Maybe I’m Amazed (Paul McCartney, 1970): here’s McCartney circling similar topics to his mates; a tender song of a man just flabbergasted that he’s got this woman in his life, attributing all these good things to this one other person. There's a fantastic juxtaposition, too, between the beautiful piano ballad and the throaty, stadium rock register in which McCartney sings; like the love is bursting out in explosive fashion, even in a tender love song.

Band on the Run (Paul McCartney, 1973): this is just so delightfully weird; a bonkers hymn to, well, I don’t really know what. The number of different styles and genres it explores, the multiple types of musicality, the different vocals and instrumentations, all telling a story that frankly defies explanation. There’s a touch of the Seargent Pepper to it, but with the oddness dialled all the way up to nearly Walrus proportions.

Gimme Some Truth (John Lennon, 1971): Lennon is perhaps most famous, post-Beatles, for his songs about peace and love. This, though, is an angry tirade at “short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocritics”; a howl of fury at The Man and all he has wrought. It’s also got some fantastic wordplay and stunning lyrical work – “son of Tricky Dicky”, the use of “Mother Hubbard” as a euphemism. Plus Harrison making magic on guitar.

Give Me Love (George Harrison, 1973): another one of Harrison’s songs of love, peace, and tranquillity that can either be seen as resolutely spiritual – asking god for love – or just, well, a song about someone he fancies, wanting love with this one person. It's beautiful and optimistic, a quest for eternal happiness, with some great lyrics. He just made you feel happy, by George.

We All Stand Together (Paul McCartney, 1984): I’m being deadly serious. Macca comes in for some stick for some of his, er, weirder songs – Mull of Kintyre also nearly made the list – but outside of me flat-out loving this song as a kid, it’s a very well-constructed harmony and is a masterpiece for its target audience. The dude’s got range is what I’m saying.

It Don’t Come Easy (Ringo Starr, 1971): now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’ve just stuck this sole Ringo song here at the end of the list because I felt bad that the star of Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends didn’t write anything as good as his former bandmates. To which I say: what’s that over there?! Seriously, though, whilst I don’t think anyone would try to claim that Mr. Starkey is quite the solo artist his fab friends are, this song is still a nice chunky bop that sounds like something from the Beatles’ heyday and also has an appealing bit of edge to it.

So this list, right; this was incredibly hard. In fact, it’s basically arbitrary; there were at least another five or six songs (Beautiful Boy, Silly Love Songs, All Things Must Pass) that could have been on this list – just as good, really, as the songs I’ve chosen. And the placements of most of the songs could easily be swapped almost entirely. It turns out that the Beatles are very good at music. Who knew? Cilla, probably.

Something else I’m just going to say quickly, is whilst the achievements of the Beatles are phenomenal in and of themselves, I can never get over how George Harrison more or less did the same thing all over again by effectively saving the British film industry in the 1980s. Honestly, the guy wrote While My Guitar Gently Weeps, and got everything from Life of Brian to Withnail and I to Mona Lisa made. Genius.

[sophiebroadley]

15/03

Learning the basics of Adobe Photoshop

I have used quite a lot of Photoshop over the past couple of years so I believe I know my way around good enough. Learning that you should rarely use the brightness tool to actually brighten the image, curves is beter.

applying an adjustment layer at the bottom of the adjustment layer opens up properties.

the image we started with

the curve I used to fix the contrast and lighting of the image. I aimed to make sure I didn't make the I picture to dark or the white too strong and I think I did that pretty well.

Playing with the brightness/contrast curve solo. to brighten up the image. Making sure to not over blow the whites

1st image being the beginning image, second one after adjusted the brightness/contrast curve, and the last one after changing the hue of the image to bring in more colour

colour balance work. My aim as to decrease the red in the image and bring in more stronger blue/cyan tints to the image to make it sharper.

This is me playing solo with this image with the hue/saturation, curves and colour balance we have just learnt to try get the image to have more colour and ave no tint. With further knowledge I believe I can make it even better but for now this is just me testing my skill so far that I've learnt from this class to adapt images

My second play around. Aim was to keep a bit of the blue tint but try and change the time of day to blue hour which is after sunset when everything is beginning to get dark.

[scholar-of-imagination]

Everybody Hurts (Criminal Minds)

An (unnamed) team member worries she may be developing schizophrenia and turns to Reid for reassurance. ONESHOT.

Read on FF.net HERE

Reid liked it when they got assigned to the same facet of a case together, even though it was usually only to the M.E.’s office (since they both had a background in science).

For one, she always let him drive. Usually, he was perfectly content to let Hotch or JJ or Prentiss or even Morgan to take the wheel; in fact, it wasn’t until he was 26 that he finally got his license, which took Morgan bullying him into it and then Garcia and Gideon patiently taking him out to practice for several months before he felt ready to take the test.  

But even though he passed on his first try – driving was all physics, after all – he still felt self-conscious and inadequate when performing the skill in front of most of his team members. With her, however, he felt authoritative and capable and … oddly protective. Plus, it was nice to practice with someone he knew wasn’t going to mercilessly rib him about his unrefined and occasionally unorthodox technique.

For another, they didn’t always have to talk. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy their discussions – he did – he just also appreciated an opportunity to mull over the facts of a case without the additional responsibility of holding up one end of a conversation.

He also liked getting a chance to listen to her (rather extensive) music library. She always had a cable and her iPod tucked neatly into one of the front pockets of her backpack – he remembered once how she had raged on about how streaming services were taking away our ability to “own” music – and, always after first asking if he was ok with both music and her selection, would play anything from classic 60s rock to (highly curated) current pop hits to Broadway showtunes.

Today they were driving through the rather remote country town of Lamar, Pennsylvania, the mountains surrounding them forming distant walls of brilliant fall foliage and R.E.M.’s Automatic for the People bridging the amiable silence between them. Although he doubted anything would come of it, he was on high-alert for her to bounce some personal problem off of him. Despite the unspoken rule against inter-team profiling, it was such a reflex for Reid that he has long ago noticed that his friend tended to gravitate towards this album when she was feeling particularly existential. Furthermore, today she wasn’t exhibiting any of her normal I-know-this-song-so-well-it’s-a-part-of-me behaviours, such as head bobbing and enthusiastic air drum solos. Neither was she asleep, with her head either wedged between the headrest and the door or balanced precariously on the seatbelt, which often happened in situations like today where back-to-back cases on opposite sides of the country left them all nauseatingly jet-lagged.

So he was partially prepared when she turned to him to ask: “Reid, do you ever feel…not real?”

“What?”

“Sorry; I said d’you-”

“No, don’t worry; I heard you. I just wanted to make sure I understood.” Whatever Reid had been expecting, it hadn’t been this. Regardless, this was a potentially delicate question. If she meant what he was now greatly concerned she meant… she was in the right age group, after all… but he hadn’t noticed any symptoms in her…

“Ok, ummmm, I know this sounds a bit daft, but do you every worry that this isn’t what life is supposed to feel like?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if being in the FBI was what I was meant to do with my life.”

“That’s sort of it. I guess… I always expect experiences to feel a certain way – like maybe feel grown-up or something – and I know it’s not logical to know what a new situation is going to be like but I still end up feeling… disappointed, somehow.” She rushed on, “I’m sorry to dump this on you; I was just really worried that if I tried looking this up on the internet I’d get too freaked out.”

By now, Reid had relaxed a little: this didn’t sound like dissociation or delusion. He almost smiled to himself; of all the things one might not want to google, there were probably very few of which he would be a prime resource. Violent crime being perhaps one of the very rare exceptions, he through ruefully.

“Well, just because I haven’t felt like that doesn’t mean you’re alone. Statistically speaking, of the roughly 7.753 billion people in the world, it’s likely that someone else has.”

“But that doesn’t make it normal! There are hundreds of thousands of unsubs, but that doesn’t make killing other people normal! I guess I’m just…” – a heavy sigh, steeling herself – “… can someone with schizophrenia know they’re developing it?”

Damn her medical background.

“I know, I know; I’m not paranoid or having hallucinations or magical thinking. I’m not seeing messages for me on TV. I don’t think I’m having delusions, although I’m not sure how I would know about that. As I said, I’m sorry to dump this on you.” She looked ready to burst into tears at any second.

Reid let the silence hang in the air for a moment, allowing him to collect his thoughts and for the last notes of “Monty got a Raw Deal” to fade away. He watched as she reached over to make the song replay, and he felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth again. Although he would never admit it out loud (even to himself), he thought it was cute the way she would sometimes listen to a song she particularly liked on a seemingly endless loop. It felt like something he would do himself.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t noticed anything I would be worried about.”

“It does a little.”

“You don’t have any family history of schizophrenia, do you? Remember, it’s highly linked to genetics and would be exceedingly rare for you to develop it de novo.”

“No, I don’t, but I’ve seen loads of people with it; it’s not impossible!”

“Actually, your data set is faulty, as it’s been heavily influenced by sample bias. There are going to be a higher number of people affected if the population you’re using is medicine and criminal justice.”

“You’re right. And ‘loads’ might be a but of an overstatement anyway.”

“Probably. How about I make you a deal?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“I’ll promise to tell you if I’m concerned you might be headed towards a schizophrenic break if you promise to tell me anything else makes you worry about it. Trust me, this isn’t something you should have to deal with on your own.” The song trailed to a close again and he hit the replay button as she wiped the still unshed tear from her eye.

“Deal.” She flashed him a quick smile, sighed heavily, and leaned back in her seat, eyes closed and looking as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Spencer?”

“Hmm?” He looked over but her eyes were still closed.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 8. solo

Previous | Next

[warnings: underage drinking, smoking, weed, near death experience?, crying]

"never have i dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul." — You leave the roof late in the night. Sal had gotten up and retreated into his apartment a little while earlier—but you'd decided to stay and make sure he didn't come back there.

Three days pass. They all consist of fleeting glances and irresolute tension. Things remain the same with the group dynamic, except for between you and Sal. Neither of you seem to know how to continue from that conversation on the roof. No one else notices, though. They'd never suspected anything from the beginning, it seems.

The beginning of your involvement with Sal involved a little bit of buildup and then a snap which resulted in a sexual encounter (or two).

Now it was a bit different. Now things were a little less lighthearted.

It's a Saturday—you'd planned to spend it inside as usual. That's until your phone starts ringing.

You flip your phone open, read over the contact, and answer the call.

"Hi, Ash."

"Y/N," she starts. You hear the excitement to continue in her voice. "There's a party tonight."

"Oh?" You get up from your seat on your bed.

"Some stoner Larry has connections with invited him and said to bring friends. He wants to bring us—save for Todd. He doesn't do parties."

"Wait," your eyebrows furrow. "Me?"

"Yeah!" She says from the other end of the line. "It'll be fun. Cmon."

You bite your lip nervously, anxiety knotting in your stomach. "I don't know. I've never really.."

Ashley is momentarily silent on the other line. She must be contemplating what to say to convince you. "Sal's coming too. Parties aren't necessarily his thing, either—so maybe you guys could try it out together?"

You open your mouth and then promptly close it. Something inside of you suddenly really wanted to go to this party. "Um... alright. Okay."

"Cool! What're you gonna wear?"

You look toward the drawer that contained your clothes and bit your lip. "Not sure yet. I'll update you on that."

"Okay, don't forget to text me! See you at eight."

The call declined from the other line. The phone that held the phone to your ear slipped into your lap. You pressed your lips together and tried to ignore the familiar feeling of sickening nausea and anxiety.

You don't rush yourself on getting ready for the party, because the time you're due to be done won't be for a while.

You take your time with the hours you have. You shower, take your time on eyeliner, mascara, and lipgloss—and finally decide on what you'll wear.

You decide on a square neck white cropped tank with short sleeves and your nicest pair of light blue, slightly washed out jeans. You slid on your favorite, sort of chunky white sneakers over white socks.

It isn't long after you finish when Ashley calls and informs you she's arrived at the apartments and Larry and Sal have already joined her out in the car. You give yourself a once-over in the mirror and then leave the apartment.

Your mother was nowhere to be found. She's either at work or drinking with her coworkers.

Once you've opened the door and climbed into the Ford Fiesta, you immediately realize your predicament—Sal is the only person in the backseat with you.

The drive there is decently long and painfully tense. Neither you nor Sal know how to speak to each other, so no words are exchanged beneath the heavy metal music emitting from the radio.

When you finally arrive at the party, it's recognizably crowded, drunken teenagers are flowing from the front door, in and out, and there's a good amount on the lawn. The newest radio hit is playing on a considerably loud speaker, and the vibrations are notable even from a distance.

"Woah," Larry says, staring at the house as Ashley pulls onto the side of the road. "Didn't realize he was so popular."

You all exit the Ford Fiesta and cross the road. You cringe as you watch someone vomit onto the grass, and another person ripping from a bong in the wide open.

Smoke flies into your face and your eyes as you enter the home. You cough, waving a hand as you blindly follow after your friends.

Eventually, the four of you find yourself on two couches directly facing each other. You on one, Larry and Ashley on the other. Sal is stood to the side.

Larry materializes a bottle of Fireball that you guessed he stole from someone on the way in, opens the cap with his teeth, and takes several gulps.

"Where did you get that?" Ashley laughs over the music, pulling the sleeves of her lavender sweater over her hands.

"Stole it," he looks to Sal and directs the bottle toward him. "Want some?"

"Sure," Sal replies, to your surprise—taking it from Larry's grasp and walking away and in your direction.

"You're drinking that?" You ask him, testing the waters.

"No, actually," you watch Sal round to the other side of the couch to linger behind you. "I'm limiting him. He'll thank me later."

Once he's out of your field of vision, you tip your head back and gaze up at him—your perspective on him being upside down. Your gaze zeroes in on the bottle of Fireball he's clutching in his hand.

"Hey," you say, meeting his eyes. "Give me some."

It was time to give him that excuse—the excuse to break the ice.

He leans in a bit, gesturing toward you with the bottle. "You want it?"

A grin pulls at your glossed lips. Instead of reaching for the bottle, you open your mouth and tilt your chin up.

Sal looks on for a moment but laughs once he realizes what you want. Everyone else at the couches seem decently distracted with each other and the overall environment—so he doesn't seem to worry about it too much.

He reaches his hand around and towards your neck, gripping your jaw in his fingers and holding you firmly. You feel his cold rings press into your skin when he tips your head further back just a bit—and then steadily pours a shot-amount of Fireball into your mouth with his other hand.

Sal stops at the right time, looks on as you pull back and sit up, and cautiously watches the back of your head as you assumedly swallow the whisky. But when you turn a bit in your seat to peer at him over your shoulder, you're holding your mouth closed and pressing a closed fist to your lips while soundlessly giggling.

"What?" He laughs, a hand moving to the top of the couch. He leans in a bit. "Can you not swallow it?"

Your shoulders shake slightly as you continue to laugh. You shake your head up and down.

"Do you need to spit it out?" Sal asks, his tone warming into concern.

You shake your head from side to side. You meet his eyes and swallow, gasping as the liquid slides down your throat and burns all the way down. You cough, the flavor of cinnamon and what tasted like Big Red gum overloaded your senses.

"God," you breathe out, giggling all the while. The alcohol is gross but you're feeling good. "It's not great."

"Yeah, that's why I'm holding Larry off, so he won't be puking his guts out later."

You look up to the boy, who's sat on the arm of the couch opposite to you. He's busy talking to some equally stoned guy, so you can't manage to catch his eye—but you catch Ashley's.

She had this look of astonishment on her face.

Had she been watching what happened? When Sal poured Fireball in your mouth?

Your face grew hot thinking about it.

Sal wanders away from you again, and you find yourself drinking more than you should. Eventually, your rationality disappears.

It's been a few hours and Sal hasn't seen you for a while. So when he hears about a girl wearing a white crop top walking across the roof of the house, he feels like he's going to vomit.

It takes him a record time of 6 seconds to get out of the door and onto the lawn. Upon looking up at the roof, his suspicions are confirmed. He shoulders past multiple people to place himself near the front of the crowd and gazes up in horror.

"Sal!" You yell, gesturing toward him with something between a wave and a point. "I'd recognize that hair anywhere!"

Multiple heads within the crowd turn away from you and towards him. He puts aside his social anxiety and the wave of unease that washes over his body and tries to focus on you. "Please come down," he rushes out, raising his voice just enough for it to be audible over the crowd.

You laugh like he's told a hilarious joke and he quickly realizes his mistake. That's the worst thing he could've told your intoxicated self. You move toward the edge of the roof, shaky and uncoordinated. "You want me to jump?"

"No!" He exclaims, his hands flying up, fingers splayed. "No. Don't do that!"

"Holy shit!" He hears Larry shout from somewhere closer to the front door of the house. Sal guesses he's just now catching wind of the current situation. Moments after, both of his brunette friends are at his side.

"What the hell is going on?!" Ashley yells, verdant eyes glued to the sight before them.

You lost your balance once again, but this time a bit worse—your foot catching on a shingle on the roof and effectively knocking the red solo cup out of your hand. It dropped onto the downward slope of the roof and the liquor inside of it spilled down the side.

Whenever Sal witnessed the toe of your white sneaker catch onto that shingle, he felt as though his very soul had been ripped from his body. Immediately after he watched you regain your footing and stable yourself, though—his heartbeat calmed to a steadier pace.

"I'm going up there," he stated beneath the chatter.

Both Ashley and Larry's heads whipped toward him.

"You'll kill yourself!" Larry exclaims incredulously. Ashley opens her mouth to assumedly second Larry's statement, but Sal cuts her off by walking away.

"Not before she does," he mutters, pushing his way through the density of bodies and forcing his way through the front door. His senses are disoriented like he's been submerged beneath water as the volume of the music scratched at his eardrums and pulsed the innards of his skull. Adrenaline courses through his blood like a drug whilst he shoulders past both mindlessly drunk and carelessly high teenagers.

Sal doesn't spare them a second glance, but their unconcern does remain in his mind. The fact that they're continuing their lives while he feels as though something that's growing into something of importance in his is about to be taken from him... it's mind-numbing.

He's never been an optimistic person, he's always tried to view things in the way they're most likely to happen—and all that's beneath that two-story house is a long drop and concrete. If you fall, you'll break your head open and you'll die.

He finally makes it to the stairs. He makes a break for it then, tripping over his own feet multiple times. Anything could happen in this amount of time, and he knew no one else was going to help him.

Sal's thoughts grow more and more disordered as he navigates the dark halls of the house. The music seems to have only grown louder, the deafening mixture of guitar and drums taunting him.

He remembers the window on the outside of the house. Sal estimates which room it would be, locates it, and approaches the door. He turns the knob, but it doesn't fully rotate.

The door is locked from the inside. Of course. Who would have a party and leave the bedroom unlocked so people could fuck all over your comforter?

He bites out a curse only he hears and prepares himself to force the door open.

Sal grabs the doorknob tightly, prepares himself, and rams the side of his body into the wood. He doesn't even feel the pain, just does it again, and again.

He goes until that half of his body is numb.

The door finally budges, and he wastes no time entering the room. He doesn't hesitate when he reaches the double-hung window he'd been seeking. He grips it at the bottom and pulls it up and open, clenching his teeth together painfully.

Sal stares out at the vastness of the night, the golden streetlights, and how they shine down on the crowd of people below him. They all seem to be looking at the same place, up, but not at him—and he can only swallow thickly.

Carefully, Sal moves to sit on the windowsill, gripping what was above him tightly, his legs outside. He then ducks to leave the room and shivers as cool air hits the front of his neck.

He starts walking the roof, steadily—like his life depends on it. Because.. it does.

Or yours. Yours depends on it.

"Y/N!" Sal calls as he finally reaches a point where you're in his line of sight. Momentarily, he's worried he'd scared you. But you turn your head, meet his eyes, and smile. Despite that, your face spells fear all over it. Something must have sobered you up a bit while he'd been inside.

"I'm going to come to you. Do not walk towards me!"

You blink lazily, because you were drunk, and nodded. You shivered, hugging yourself. It didn't seem to do much, though. Your arms were bare.

"Fuck," he breathes, gazing down at the fall that could await him if he misstepped and immediately reverted his gaze. Blood rushes between his ears as he steadily makes his way towards you.

"Please don't fall!" You suddenly exclaim, your hair tussling in the breeze. A strand blows over your face, so you quickly raise a hand to move it back in place.

He looks up from his feet and stares you in the eyes. "I won't," he affirms, you and himself, continuing across the roof. "Just stay put, okay?"

It doesn't take long to get over to you. He's mostly sober, so it isn't hard on that part. What's difficult is calming his steady heart.

He's not scared of falling. Not necessarily scared of injury or death. But he is scared of not making it to you.

Once he's at an arms reach of your shaking form, he reaches out a hand, palm facing the darkness of the sky.

You seem to read his mind, slowly grabbing his hand. Sal maneuvers your joint hands to where your palms press together and your fingers are interlaced. He doesn't know if it's the blood rushing through his ears or the distance from the ground, but it's as if everything below becomes very quiet.

You meet his gaze, your pretty eyes glossy with tears. The eyeliner you were wearing had just begun to collect beneath your lower lash line.

He squeezes your hand and leads you to be in front of him.

It's not long after that that he's gotten you off of the roof. Sal watches you slip through the open window before turning toward the density of people beneath him on the ground. He breathes in as he catches both Larry and Ashley's eyes—he can't read their expressions, but he wouldn't be surprised if there was shock written all over it—and then ducks back into the window.

As soon as the window is shut and it meets the windowsill once more, Sal whips his head toward you. "Y/N-"

Before he'd saw your face, and the language of your body as you were sat on the edge of the bed, he was going to scold you, and then go downstairs and find you some water and sober you up—all of that falls down the drain when he sees the stream of tears falling down your face. Every time you blink, more drop—quickly staining your cheeks with black makeup.

"Oh," he breathes, suddenly speechless. "Y/N-"

You attempt at taking a breath in, it seems—but it's a failure because it hitches and turns into a shoulder-shaking sob.

"I'm sorry," you cry, roughly dragging the tips of your fingers beneath your eyes. This only smears the running mascara further. "I'm just drunk."

Sal momentarily feels like breaking down in tears himself, that's how much this entire ordeal stressed him out. He approaches your trembling body and crouches down in front of you.

"Hey," he says, softly. "It doesn't matter whether or not you're intoxicated. Your feelings still matter, okay?"

You sniffle, still attempting to wipe your tears away, and reluctantly nod. "I'm sorry," you try again.

He places his hands on your knees and squeezes them firmly. "It's okay."

You jerk into a sob, leaning forward and pressing the side of your face on his shoulder. You slowly tuck your arms beneath his and cross them over the expanse of his back, palms flat on each shoulder blade. The convulsive gasps were hard to stop, making it hard to breathe.

Sal breathed out softly against the prosthetic, raising his arms and encasing them around your torso.

He didn't wonder about the reason for your tears. Assuming things wouldn't help you anymore.

"I don't know why I did that," you whisper, quieting yourself to swallow your saliva. "Maybe I do. I think I was trying to prove something to myself."

He finds himself holding you tighter, your chest pressed to his, feeling your heartbeat through the fabric that separated you both—oddly enough, even at this moment, it reminds him of that night in the car. You had been even closer to him then, though.

"It was stupid," you murmured. "Why would I do that, after what we had talked about last night?"

"What if we jumped together?" he remembers saying.

"Some things can't be explained," he replies earnestly. "You don't need to know why you did what you did. It was stupid, though. I'd probably walk across the roof of a two-story house for you again, but.."

You pull back and meet his eyes, your face wet. The majority of your makeup had been cried off and your lipgloss had been smudged.

You must've sensed his examination, breaking the visual contact and sniffling. "I know I look ridiculous right now."

Sal smiles. He knows she can't see it, but maybe she'll hear it. "I don't think so," he murmurs, looking off to the side. "I think that's a bathroom. You can clean up in there if you want."

You follow his gaze and then return your eyes to his and laugh a bit. You still sound drunk, he notes. Obviously. He'd poured a good amount of Fireball into your mouth and watched you drink plenty of other things.

"Feels kinda weird using a stranger's bathroom," you laugh, your breath hitching from the earlier crying.

Sal rolls his eyes humorously, gripping your knees tighter as he pulls himself off of the floor. "The guy who lives here is Larry's friend—and a stoner. I doubt he'd mind. And if he does get mad, I'll take responsibility for it. I forced that door through, anyway.."

Your gaze swivels toward the door, which is not shut but mostly closed. When he glances to where you're looking, he notices it seems a bit.. crooked.

He inwardly cringes. "I'll pay for it. Come on."

Sal follows you into the bathroom. You seem reluctant to enter first, so he does, opening the door and reaching to the side to turn the lights on. They do what they're supposed to—eventually. They're momentarily unresponsive before becoming alive—the illumination brightening the room with a dull yellow hue.

You step onto the tile and began to search for whatever it was you needed. You kneeled at one of the cabinets below the sink, opened it, and ducked your head lower.

"Oh!" You exclaim quietly, reaching in and pulling out two things. A bottle of half-empty makeup remover and a bag of some cotton rounds.

"Maybe he has a girlfriend?" He hears you say to yourself, standing up, nudging the cabinet closed with your foot, and placing the things you found beside the sink.

Sal reaches over and closes the door. He'd rather not have to witness the sight of some drunkards wandering in and fooling around on the bed.

"Lock it," you say. "I'd rather no one- no one see me like this."

His hand was already on the doorknob, so he just reaches down a bit and locks the door.

He watches you struggle a bit with the bag of cotton rounds, trying but failing to open it, so he reaches forward and delicately plucks it out of your grasp.

Sal slides the makeup remover over and pats the place on the counter it was previously. "Sit."

You peer into his eyes inquisitively but waste no time hoisting yourself up and onto the cold surface.

After that, he plucks the bottle of makeup remover off of the counter and douses the cotton round in the liquid. He reaches forward from the distance that your knees created between the both of you, but you spread your thighs and press the heel of your shoe into his lower back, pulling him in so he's between your legs.

Sal doesn't see it suggestively, because you're drunk—but he's glad you asked him to lock the door because, with his luck, Larry or Ashley would find their way into the bathroom and get all of the wrong ideas.

The firmness just beneath his navel presses into the edge of the counter as he cups one side of your face and began wiping away at the eyeliner and mascara and everything it messed up.

"Thank you," you say sweetly, blinking at him with appreciation in your eyes. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

He remembers a silhouette. Her back was turned to him, golden hair cascading just past her shoulder blades. He remembers blue eyes that looked a lot like his own staring into a mirror, a hand which adorned a wedding ring wiping away makeup from the day.

"Read it on the label of the bottle," he replies, meeting your eyes and looking away.

As he's finishing up, he hears a rapping of knuckles against the locked door. He tosses the used cotton rounds into a trash bin in the corner and then locks eyes with you curiously.

"Occupied," he calls out, still looking at you. The knocking only gets louder, which makes you laugh.

"He said it's occupied!" You yell over the unintelligible music downstairs, your words breaking into a giggle. You press your knees against his waist, and he doesn't even realize it when his hands meet your thighs.

The knocking ceases, fading into a voice. "Is that you guys in there?"

Fucking Larry. Speak of the goddamn devil—that's what he would've said if he'd come knocking sooner.

The both of you seem to be thinking the same thing, locking eyes in terror. You quickly get off of the counter, and Sal unlocks the door and swings it open.

Sure enough, he's standing there—in all of his glory and highness. Larry blinks, the whites of his glossy eyes tinted red. He looks between the both of you before speaking. "Why were.."

"I had to pee," You choose to deadpan.

Sal feels himself grow even paler than he already is. "I came in.. after.. that."

Larry intakes a mouthful of whatever is in the red solo cup he's holding in his tan, lanky fingers, and swallows thickly. "Okay," he croaks, instinctively cringing as the alcohol passed through his chest. He gestured the cup toward you. "Uh..crazy stunt you pulled up there, huh?"

Sal saw your face shift in his peripheral vision. "Huge lapse of judgment," you reply.

"Nobody could tell who you were, so don't worry about that," the brunette smiles a bit. He returns his attention to Sal. "They've started playing country," sure enough, Sal hears the sound of a banjo from the speakers downstairs, effectively punctuating Larry's statement.

"Yeah.." Larry mumbles, sipping his drink and looking up and through his eyebrows. "Ash said to come find you guys so we can leave."

It doesn't take much, after that.

As you're leaving, Larry pulls the door open and furrows his brow at the condition of the hinges. "Wow. How old is this thing?" He mumbles.

Sal hears you snort.

The three of you descend the stairs, skirting past countless teenagers standing on the steps drinking or smoking. Sal makes the mistake of letting you fall behind and feels you stumble and smack him in the back. It's easy to steady himself, quickly gripping the railing—but he's concerned about you, so he turns around.

A guy with a cigarette balancing in his teeth is eying you with frustration pulling at his features. His gaze pulls from your face and down your body absentmindedly.

"Watch it," he murmurs.

"Sorry," you breathe, jerking your head away and meeting Sal's eyes worriedly. Keep walking, you express in the hues of your eyes.

Sal reaches forward and interlaces your fingers with his as he'd done on the roof. He makes a show of it, too—so the guy with the cigarette sees the rings on both of his hands. Sal gives him a distinct look when they lock eyes, rolls his jaw, and lets you lead him down the stairs, instead of the other way around.

By the time you're all nearly shot from weaving through the multitude of sweaty bodies and navigating through plumes of smoke thicker than fog, the three of you find Ashley petting what he'd assume is the host's dog.

No one questions it.

"You good to drive?" Larry asks, placing his cup on a nearby surface.

"Oh, yeah," she rises from her crouch beside the dog. The animal walks away, his golden tail wagging excitedly at the next person who would give him pets. "A gross sip of something put me off of drinking tonight a while earlier. And, uh.. the whole roof thing dried me out."

You sigh. "I'm sorry about that. It sobered me up, too."

She shakes her head, a wispy strand of light brown hair falling over her face. "It was stupid, yes, and I hope you don't do it again, but all that matters now is that you're safe."

Ashley blinks kind green eyes at you and smiles, reaching forward, taking your hand, and leading you away. Sal hears you laugh and follow after her as both of you head for the front door.

He turns to look at Larry once he loses sight of both of you in the crowd. He examines Sal with bleary dark eyes and looks as though he's about to say something, but he doesn't get to.

Even over the blaring country music, Sal hears a yell and then some fearful shouting. He whips around toward the sounds, which were toward the front of the house.

Red and blue flashing lights shine through the windows.

"Shit!"

"Ah, fuck," Larry groaned, nimbly wrapping his fingers around Sal's wrist and dragging him into the density of the panicked crowd. "Did you see where they went?"

Sal shakes his head. "No," he knows you're intoxicated. Panic settles in. He chews his lip, his eyes desperately scamming for a girl wearing a white top squared at the neck—you. "Y/N's had a lot to drink, Larry. If the police-"

"Don't worry about the Five-O, let's worry about the girls," Larry replies absentmindedly, keeping his firm hold on Sal.

"They must've gone to the Ford," Sal shouts over the music, which, for some reason, is still playing. "We were leaving anyway. I'm sure they're in the car."

Larry releases Sal and motions toward the back of the house. "There's a back door. I'll text Ashley and tell her to drive down the block and we can meet them on foot."

It was an agreeable plan. Waltzing out of the house and walking straight up to the car wouldn't be wise.

Larry does what he'd said he'd do. Turns out, Sal was right, they had made it to the car moments before the police had rolled up. Ashley informed him it was two squad cars and four officers. Seemed like overkill for a house party—but he wouldn't know. He didn't do this often.

When Larry was on the phone, Sal was very tempted to ask about Y/N, but refrained.

On the way to the back door, they crossed through the kitchen. Larry snatched an unopened bottle of alcohol of a brand Sal didn't recognize and carried it along with him for the road.

As soon as they made it out of the house, they both made a break for it, running between houses and into multiple different backyards on their way.

They slowed down once they were at a measurable distance from the party, gasping for air. Sal panted against the prosthetic, placing his hands on his knees and slowing his gasps into slow breaths, attempting to calm his racing heart.

They stood on the side of the road, the music in the distance (albeit a lot quieter) still pounding into the night.

Sal lowered himself down onto the curb. Larry joined him, raising the bottle he'd chose to bring with him to his mouth, and opened the steel cap with his teeth. He spits it onto the road and gestures it toward Sal.

"Bottoms up," he said, bringing it to his lips and taking several gulps.

Sal rolled his eyes playfully, eyebrows rising as Ashley's Ford Fiesta cruised down the road and slowed to a stop in front of them. He stood up from the curb and pulled Larry off of it as well.

They entered the car, sliding into the backseat. Larry continued to down the beer he'd found as Ashley turned around in her seat.

"The night's still young," she says. "Any ideas of what we could do?"

It's really not. Sal's a bit disoriented so he doesn't know what time it is but he wouldn't be surprised if it was 3 AM.

You then turn around in the passenger seat and grin mischievously. "Let's go to the lake."

Oh, great.

[shhhlikeme]

hello!! i really loved your hq writing and i think they were pretty spot on! do u mind writing abt a reader who’s basically a first year version of kiyoko (like everyone is attracted to her) and all the first years are just into her but come to find out she’s been dating yamaguchi all this time ? jealous yams maybe? sorry if it’s too specific🥺👉����👈🏼

Yamaguchi Tadashi x Really Sexy Yoga Instructor S/O

———————————

A/N: Thank you so much anon! You’re speaking my language with this request😍

It sounds a lot like the first ever request I got here, so this can be seen as a part two, or read as a stand alone. I hope you like it!!!

Not NSFW, but please only read if you’re over 18 y/o.

———————————

Yams, your beloved boyfriend of a few months will be the first to admit that he made a mistake volunteering you to help his volleyball team

About a month ago, Coach Ukai felt as though the team was way too pent up and ordered his players to indulge in some calming activities on one of the no-practice days with the goal of making the team less irritable

The coach found that Yoga would be a great solution

Coach Ukai had read that the benefits of Yoga include but are not limited to: increased flexibility, increased muscle strength and tone, improved respiration, more energy and vitality, maintenance of a balanced metabolism, improved athletic performance, protection from injury, overall relaxation and stress relief.

Ukai thought that yoga was a no-brainer because if Karasuno was going to win the National tournament, then they had to adopt unconventional means in order to get an edge on the competition

Unfortunately, Takeda, the volleyball club’s advisor, couldn’t exactly find the budget to get the entire team signed up for weekly yoga sessions at the big studio downtown

Aw man :(

But fear not! smh

Your boyfriend to the team’s rescue! Great 😑

Thank goodness for your sweet baby 👍🏾 not

He’s just too caring for his own good isn’t he? You wish he’d stop

Because he..... well, lucky for Karasuno, your boyfriend Yamaguchi happily suggested that the team goes to the Karasuno High School’s Yoga Club sessions at the local community centre. The community centre hosts great swim, cooking, and even archery lessons! It would be perfect because it would be within budget and the 7am yoga sessions were always empty, because not many people knew about them.

“How do you know they’re legit? I don’t want my players getting hurt because some kids think it’s fun to twist n’ contort their bodies —“ Inquired coach Ukai. The entire team turned to Tadashi, awaiting his response.

Your annoying sweet man explained that all of the Yoga club members are certified by Japanese Health Standards and they are well-versed in their instructing, it was kind of the point of the club. He was sure the club would love the volleyball team’s company

Your boyfriends’ coach’s face lit up. When Ukai’s next question pertained to how tf Tadashi knew all of this, that’s finally when his face fell

Oops.

He’s so cute He wanted to help so badly he forgot that this could be a bad idea

How did he know all this? Well, maybe because his girlfriend of 3 months, you, run the damn club. And he knows everything about you because he’s whipped.

However, Tadashi couldn’t exactly tell them that was the reason because he is very private and didn’t want to introduce his beautiful girlfriend to guys that were sure to drool over her

Plus he wanted to make sure you weren’t in a daze when he confessed to you, testing whether one day you’ll wake up & realize you made a big mistake

Yamaguchi, quick on his feet, just said that you were his friend and you ran the club.

They believed it obviously, and that’s how it all started

Since there were multiple morning Yoga sessions, Coach Ukai divided the team into years for mandatory session attendance. The first years were scheduled for Monday’s at 7am, the second years on Wednesday’s (same time) and the 3rd years were on Fridays (same time).

You were late to your first session with the boys because even though Yams told you the team would start coming (and to keep your relationship a secret) you were used to being the only one here doing Yoga

You were only slightly startled when you opened the door to your beloved studio and saw Karasuno volleyball’s first years: Tsukishima, Kageyama, Hinata and your beautiful man Yams sitting down on Yoga mats patiently.

You cheerily introduced yourself and greet everyone, finding yourself happy to have the company

Yamaguchi was the only one to verbally greet you back, because the other boys were staring at you with what you would deem odd expressions

Yams noticed his solo greeting too and looked over to his teammates. He frowned because he knew the look on their faces and the lack of a voice very well.

How could he not? It was the same reaction he had when he saw you for the first time he was sure you came out of his wet dreams

You are so hot, and now his fellow first years were noticing

Yams pouted inside

Anyway, the same way you didn’t notice when Yamaguchi had that stare when you two met, you just got straight to business, setting down your pink yoga mat and water bottle and explaining all the rules.

It’s a good thing yoga sessions are supposed to be silent with only the sounds of the rain forest playing loud through the rooms speakers because I don’t think the boys could have spoken anyway

You did basic yoga stretches and had the boys follow your every movement

As you showed them the simple beginner poses, Tadashi caught Hinata and Kageyama sneaking glances at your figure with heavy blushes on their faces

If Tsukki thought you were attractive, which omfg did he ever, he didn’t show it in the slightest

Yamaguchi was happy to call him his best friend

The quick-attack boys could not say the same

Like the schoolboys they are, they relished in seeing a gorgeous female’s flexible body easily contort in front of them

Tadashi noted that, for two of the most intensely competitive people he knew, the two were peculiarly a little TOO happy with not doing any of the yoga poses correctly, he could guess why

You, still clueless, walked around the room to help the boys get into correct positioning platonically, the way every Yoga instructor does.

Tadashi on the other hand, was doing so well and you badly wished you could kiss him whenever you moved his body but you were respecting his wishes to keep you two a secret

Kags and Shōyō almost had internal panic attacks when you touched them or got close

They weren’t the greatest with girls but they were especially bad when one of the prettiest and fittest girls they’ve ever encountered was touching them and whispering in their ears to ‘turn like this’ ‘open up a bit more’ because of how quiet yoga should be

The combustion train has left the building! Choo choo 💨

You laughed when volleyball duo boys started shoving each other when Hinata fell out of a pose and landed on Kags

Tadashi’s eyes narrowed because he selfishly didn’t want you laughing at anything those boys did. Nevertheless, he shook it off

Maybe it will get better once the initial shock of your hotness wears off, Yams thought to himself when he left Yoga that morning.

Sure, because that’s how it worked with Kiyoko right?

Yeah, right. The following Monday you were still hot and the boys were still drooling over you.

At real volleyball practices and at lunch time Yamaguchi has to constantly hear the team (minus Tsukishima) gush about how attractive you are and how it wasn’t so bad waking up early in the morning if you were the view they were getting up to see

Now, Tadashi would definitely describe himself as a pretty calm guy......as would anyone who knows him......

But hearing his friends gush about you like you weren’t the smartest, most creative, genuine, conscientious person...... just an ideal body and gorgeous face not that they would know evoked jealous emotions deep within him

On dates with you he would inquire about the other volleyball yoga sessions you taught and you would tell him truthfully that your class of 3rd years were always fine, well behaved and very quiet because they were too busy fantasizing about you in their heads to talk dkm

and then you told your boyfriend that 2 of the second years were pretty flirty take a wild guess who? But that the one boy named Ennoshita got them to simmer down and then stop with the comments completely

Tadashi made a mental note to do a favour for his future captain

He was beginning to get irritated with the way these strong amazing athletes that he looked up to were reduced to goo when his girlfriend came around

He knew it was irrational to be so upset because he was sure they would chill out if they knew she was his girlfriend but

He just wasn’t ready for that yet.

So he endured the comments because even though the team was full of hormonone-crazy males, they never were vulgar or disrespectful in their remarks that was saved for all of their dreams and shower time

Either way,

None of that could stop the locker room talk.

“Did Y/N teach you guys the puppy dog stretch too this week?” Chirped Nishinoya as he bounced on the balls of his feet. The boys nodded. “Man is she s-m-o-k-i-n-g or what?? Don’t you think so, Asahi?”

Yams looked over from his locker to see the quiet and timid Ace of the team unable to help sporting a blush and nodding in agreement to Nishinoya.

Tadashi did NOT like this conversation. He took to chugging his water in order to distract himself from saying something he was sure to regret

“I-I really like Y/N’s yoga pants. They’re really cool!”

Kageyama rolled his eyes at Hinata's comment. “Of course you do, Boke.”

“Keep dreaming short stack!” Hollered Tanaka as he hopped in a super man pose on top of a bench. “For I will one day marry Y/N!”

Uncontrollably, Yamaguchi’s entire liquid contents in his mouth drenched Sugawara’s back in a spit take. Everyone laughed.

Let’s just say Karasuno’s vice captain made Yams do laps until his legs felt like they would fall off

By the third week, poor Yamaguchi had it up to HERE with the team’s pining after his girl.... be it Daichi’s subtle suggestion to the coach to extend AND increase the amount of yoga sessions, to Nishinoya’s memorization of the exact colour of your lip gloss per session

Yams actually growled under his breath when he heard both I swear to God

Yamaguchi felt like he was going to burst if he didn’t wring any necks first .

The entire team was smitten with his secret girlfriend and it made him insanely jealous. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

You were his. And only his. He wished he never volunteered you to help the team in the first place!

On your dates as a couple, you noticed that Yams was much more tense than he used to be before you started instructing the team. You told him over and over that you would quit this very second because he was so much more important than some silly club. You even suggested easily swapping with your second-in-command as instructor but

He wouldn’t have any of that. Apparently the team was already improving significantly in skill from Yoga like the Coach predicted. You are the best instructor your club had, and his team needed the best.

Plus he knows you love doing it and he puts your happiness before his own

The situation just sucked!

On the final yoga session before nationals, you arranged for the entire team to conjoin in one single morning session that would be longer at two hours instead of one, to go through everything they have learned in a mass session. It was also to make sure the numbers were even because today would be strictly focused on Partner Yoga!

The crows filed in to your studio, excited to see you and set up as usual

You walked in and told them about the partner yoga, and before they could volunteer to be your partner and upset your boyfriend, you told everyone you already had a partner and gestured toward the studio entryway:

Kiyoko walked in with a wave at her introduction and she spread her yoga mat next to you facing the class

They said 😳😳😳😳🤯🤯🤯🤯

The entire room was silent. Everyone minus Tsukki and your boyfriend combusted. Like they were done

Remember that combustion train? Yeah it just arrived at its destination: Nosebleed Central.

The boys’ little minds couldn’t fathom two extremely hot girls in compromising, stretchy positions that would look anything but innocent in their male minds

It was kind of a dream come true

You didn’t care that they were acting weird and you started the session, telling the boys to pair up and follow yours and Kiyoko’s lead

Even Yams started to feel hot and bothered at the sight of the multiple positions

he always felt horny watching you instruct yoga but he was able to satiate his lust by reminding himself that you told him you want to sleep with him when he was ready, even though you were taking it slow. he’s always blushing so none of the guys ever thought anything if it

Satiating himself with that thought again, though, flew out the window as an option because you just looked too incredibly hot in partner positions. It got to the point where he wanted to kick Kiyoko out so you could practice these yoga positions with him

He wanted to be the one to put your leg on his shoulder as he pounded into your heat, not Kiyoko no matter how hottttttttt it was to look at

Suga used his fingers to flick Tadashi on the forehead to get his attention away from his secret girlfriend and back to the yoga positions he should be trying with him

“Dude.... trust me, I know, and I agree...” Suga nods in understanding as he glances over at the beautiful girls once more. It takes a good amount of effort for him to peel his eyes back to Yamaguchi. “But we have to do this. Try to pretend they’re not as hot as they are.” He gives your bf a thumbs up for encouragement

Yams didn’t smile back even though he commenced yoga again like his vice captain requested. Yams just wanted all of this to be over so he could somehow sneak you into one of the abandoned rooms in this community centre and take you right there.

Since Kiyoko was only there to demonstrate the positions and not join the class because she had other commitments, she had to leave pretty early

You went around helping everyone like you usually did, and now you definitely noticed how red all the boys’ cheeks were. Yams couldn’t even look at you the entire time he did yoga with Suga and you started to wonder if you did something wrong. Hm.....

Yams couldn’t look at you because he was using every ounce of his restraint to keep from jumping your bones

Before long, Y/N’s final yoga session was nearing completion until you realized that you had forgotten to demonstrate the final pose when Kiyoko was here.

Glancing at your boyfriend who was giving you the cold shoulder, you timidly asked if anyone minded being your partner to demonstrate—

Like zoo animals, all of the boys volunteered!!! You yelped because of how loud they got in the quiet room in a split second.

Does it matter who you choose?

Yamaguchi felt himself boil over in jealousy. These boys were throwing themselves at the woman who means everything to him, and that was enough to drive any man to the brink of insanity.

While the boys bickered about who would be your partner Hinata and Nishi already started the Rock Paper Scissors tournament, including the usually collected captains, Tadashi briskly made his way towards you with purpose. Without even thinking about it he cupped your face with one of his hands and tilted your lips towards his for a deep kiss.

You felt your knees weaken at the intensity of the unexpected kiss from the love of your life.

Yams wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you steady when he felt your knees weaken.

You two barely heard the collective gasp in the room...

...Nor did you hear Tsukki mutter a flat “I knew it.”

When you finally pulled away from your boyfriends perfect lips, you were still drunk off the kiss while he remembered where you two were

With an aura of manly confidence that could only come from the overwhelming satisfaction of giving into the animalistic urge to claim your mate in front of other males, Yamaguchi turned to his team. Shoulders back and confident, he smiled smugly

“Did I forget to tell you all that Y/N is my girlfriend? I’d appreciate if all the endless comments about how beautiful she is would cease to exist, at least around me. She’s very much taken. Oh, and I, ONLY I....will be her partner. Thanks.”

Ok can you imagine how fucking sexy shy Yams would look being strict, intimidating and completely territorial over you? 🤤

Karasuno’s team was stunned into silence before Nishinoya started a slow clap applause like they do in the movies.

Only Tanaka joined in with him. The rest of the team is not that lame

You, on the other hand, got so turned on by your boyfriend display of protection and jealousy that you muttered that class was over and you used your hand to turn Yams attention back to you. You got on the tips of your toes to pull him into another passionate kiss again.

You loved it.

Seeing this side of him stirred up a lot of emotions in you and you couldn’t help but ask your boyfriend if he wanted to skip school today. Your parents weren’t going to be home for 2 days and you had the house to yourself.

With half lidded eyes that only served to turn you on more Yamaguchi agreed.

I hope he knows that he was in for a really long and pleasurable day and night.....you were about to put those years of yoga training to good use, and your boyfriend couldn’t be luckier.

[streets-in-paradise]

Royal Treatment

 Troy (2004) Reader Insert Fanfiction - Part 10 

Word Count:  + 9 K

Characters ( most mentioned) : Achilles, Mycenaean Princess!Reader, Helen, Patroclus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Menelaus. 

Pairings: Achilles x Mycenaean Princess!Reader.

Warnings:  Very light smutty undertones.

Summary: Since her last private encounter with Achilles left her with more doubts than certainties, the princess keeps trying to obtain a clear answer from him. During the celebrations, she comes up with an idea to test his interest. 

Disclaimers: This was inspired by a mix of greek music ,various drum solos and improvisations of greek folk that I found on youtube and some mediterranean, egyptian and turkish music I have been listening to. Also, I want to apologise if part of this sucks. i’m still learning how to write some stuff and I don't know if this is as good as it was in my head when i pictured it. 

Note: My use of the name Alexander here is only a reference. I know that’s how Paris was called in some versions of the myths and I’m only playing word games with that. 

Tags: @yerevasunclair @mother-dearest-loves-me 

The celebrations started with a short formal gathering in the throne room. The place was slowly getting crowder and the princess arrived later than usual but it wasn’t a concerning time range. Wordlessly, she returned to her spot alongside her father. She noticed the cup of wine he was holding and smiled to the pourer that remained close to him. The servant boy smiled back and the king looked at him like he was ready to order his execution. As a soft gesture of support against his bad mood, she holded his free hand. She knew that words of reassurance trying to explain herself or a convincing tale weren’t enough, so she tried something else. The sudden contact made him stare at her. He was still upset, she saw it in his eyes. Quickly, she changed the intention of her approach. Instead of acting like a caring daughter giving him reassurance, she showed the support of a loyal subdit. She kissed his knuckles and bowed her head in sign of respect, pretending to recognize his absolute authority over her. Agamemnon reacted positively, giving her a half smile that wasn’t exactly of approval but showed forgiveness. He was vainglorious about his self perceived but non existent mercy, appealing to that was more effective than trying to show affection.

The obsequious flatterers of the king started to gather around them, since that part of the festivities was nothing but an excuse to formally celebrate himself. Inevitably, some of the praise fell upon her and she kept her attitude towards it pleasing and passive, avoiding smart remarks or destacable commentary. She wished she could be left alone with her friends, but she had to keep performing for a bit longer. Helen was close to her and right next to her husband, but the distance that implied was a real bother. They shared some complicit glances despite being under the watch of the brothers.

Using their unexpected presence as an excuse to flatter their own egos, both kings started to show off some of the treasures of the conquest presented as gifts for the ladies. Argos wasn’t sacked, there was no need for excessive violence because Achilles speeded up their surrender. Still, as it did for other cities, their submission implied some concessions. Agamemnon got the military control of the land and demanded a share on the treasures of the city. Since he didn’t have a queen, his daughter had to occupy the passive role in his acts of ostentation. She had a collection of jewelry that was entirely based on stolen relics from every city he conquered, having at least one for every place. That wasn’t going to be the exception. The acquired riches were everything he had to brag about after Achilles took the symbolic glory. Knowing that most of the presents must have heard about what the warrior demanded of her, it was also a good way to reinforce her royal magnificence and the image of his control over her. On that occasion, the commemorative object of the victory she got was a necklace.

The young women were the centre of attention, as luxury objects whose value was being increased. Menelaus was acting like a loveful husband to Helen while he filled her with gifts from his share of the spoils, his older brother almost looked like a sweet, prideful father. The ceremonialize praise was hypocrisy, but it was fun for both girls to see their despicable owners pretending to be caring. Fortunately for their exhausted selves, the last and most expectant arrival stole all the attention.

As always, Achilles showed up very late. He tended to skip the pointless ceremonies that weren’t about him and he liked to leave his public hanging. Eudorus and Patroclus entered the room at his right and left side, wondering what he was going to do next. Without minding the context or any appearances of propriety, he walked right to the front of the crowd. Once he found his spot to stay, he blatantly stared at the ladies and saluted them from afar with a smile. Before his entrance, Agamemnon was in the middle of a self complacent speech that he interrupted. The sight of such a simple act creating more distraction irritated him even more. The king tried to save words with him, but Achilles robbed him of the speech before he could carry on.

“ My apologies to the ladies, I almost miss their honors.” He simply commented. “ Quite a charming pair, very sweet. I hope they enjoy what my effort got for them.”

The women stared at each other.

“ It’s not my wish to offend you, brave Achilles, but I don’t depreciate my husband’s courage.” Helen replied with extreme politeness.

“ Father knows my taste in jewelry.” was the princess’s defense.” And he is a smart strategist and clever politician. The brightest conductor of the army, of course.” She smiled to the king, trying to look like a sweet praiser. “ Your alliance is a treasure we must cherish because your accomplishments together are an honor to us all.”

” You honored me, I’m doing the same. “ the myrmidon replied.

“ It was no bother, the glory is yours. Nobody questions that.” The princess gave him the most formal answer that occurred to her in the moment.

Trying to keep with the ceremonial tone, she created an immediate distraction to relieve the tension of the moment.

“ Can we all thank this man as he deserves? This is an historical day for the city. He is the first fully consecrated hero in the times of my father.”

To her exhortation, claps and cheers filled the precinct. After that, Agamemnon decided to put an end to the formalities. There was no way of making it about himself again, so he concluded it. The festivities continued in the banquet hall.

Helen tried to reach her niece so they could do the short walk there together, but her very pleased husband stumbed in their way. Unlike his brother, he was radiant of pride because of the fervent defense that his wife did of him. If he didn’t love Helen, at least he loved how she made him feel.

Agamemnon grabbed his daughter by the wrist before she could escape to their side. Holding hands for the appearances, the started a whispered argument.

“ This is your second mistake in a row. What do i have to do with you?” He reprimanded her.

“ I got away from that shameful situation in the most elegant way, that’s what I’m supposed to do. If i were a man, I would have punched him.” She lied.

“ If you were a man, I wouldn't need him.”

“ Do you think that you would have had your own Hector of Troy if I would have been your baby boy? Quit dreaming, father. This is what you have, I do my best to serve you.“

“ You call this serving me??”

“ Who do you think I was serving when I agreed to bathe him ? Do you think that I enjoyed being degraded into servant work for him ? ” She fakely complained. ” I hate his petty audacious attitude as much as you do, but I stand him because it is what I have to do. You don’t know how hard I’m trying for you.”

She released herself from his grab.

The banquet involved less tension because the informal ambient demanded less interaction between them. She had to sit next to her father and keep with the good behaviour but the distractions kept him too busy to keep bothering her. She remained silent most of the time, but she didn't mind.

Achilles and Ajax were the centre of attention. They had a toast in their honor and people started doing them all sorts of questions. Ajax looked a bit upset because the myrmidon stole what he perceived as his chance to get major glory. He was doing a relatively good act pretending not to care about Achilles's decisive role in the victory and she felt a bit bad for him. One of her very short interventions on the talking was an attempt to validate him, but Agamemnon used her comment as a startpoint for malicious comparisons against Achilles. Using his massive amount of knowledge on heroic tales, Patroclus solved the situation. He did a magnificent defense of both heroes, talking about the complementary balance of their best traits with examples of some of their past feats. His eloquence was impressive for someone of his age, as it was his audacity to argue with the king.

Helen was having the time of her life just by witnessing how Menelaus's nervousness was growing at every instant. It was very strange for her to see him like that, fearing that anything could trigger a suspicious response from his brother. He was having a small sample of the life of lies he forced her into and she loved it. The funniest aspect about the situation was that Patroclus maintained a respectful tone the entire time. He was polite in his corrections and Agamemnon would have been the one looking bad if he would have reacted harshly.

While hearing their argument, Achilles glanced at the royal ladies for an instant. He noticed a slight change in his cousin's attitude, a rush of confidence that he wasn't expecting him to display at least there. He started suspecting their involvement and it's possible partial influence on him. The women glanced back innocently and the three shared their prideful approbation.

Patroclus's shift on the conversation frustrated the king's intentions of turning one hero against the other. Ajax got his well deserved acknowledgement and the curious boy took his chance to do all sorts of specific questions to him, giving him a moment to shine without entering in disputes with Achilles.

Since her comment started the argument,the young myrmidon tried to engage the princess in his rambling. She wasn't versed in the technical aspects of combat, but she tried to remain as a curious listener. Ajax's point, supported by the boy, was to affirm that he was the strongest man in Greece while Achilles was the fastest. He was trying to impress his listeners with less known anecdotes referring to that quality. Achilles didn't bother in refuting him and he barely paid attention because he was amusing himself by subtly ruining the girl's focus on whatever he was telling. Imperceptible gestures, smirks or just staring at her for longer than necessary were enough to achieve it. Staying concentrated in the talk was impossible for her, but she managed the situation adecuately.

When the meal concluded and the dancing started, Ajax offered her to join the festivities with him. She declined in favor of staying as Helen's companion. Ereny asked the princess's permission to be released from her daily duties and, once it was given to her, both handmaids got it. They knew that the young girl was going for the myrmidon captain and they wished her good luck.

The queen was left once more to witness how her husband chased the concubines. She didn't love him nor cared for what he did with them, but the blatant display was humiliating. She struggled to keep the appearances of love between them, but he made it harder everyday. The prideful public aspect of his cheating upsetted her because it was an insult to her pride as a woman. Her niece stayed with her, promising her that they would only have to wait until the brothers would leave the room with their respective companies.

She was feeling slightly disencouraged as well. That was a great time to lose herself in the dispersion of people, but there were too many stares following Achilles and she would never get there unnoticed. An insane amount of women were expectantly waiting to be chosen by him for the night. The ladies were competing for his attention, some being less subtle than others. She wasn't jealous, but she didn't want to engage in that game. She never tried to compete for attention and she wasn't sure of wanting to start there.

While she remained in her seat watching the crowd, her mind kept focused on one thought: Achilles seemed to fancy her in some way, but she still didn’t know how. She started fearing about the image he had of her. He described her as cute, he said that her face was adorable. Those were compliments fitting for a sweet girl, not an attractive woman.

She didn't have any certains but, if it was the case, she wished she could prove him wrong. He teased her for a very long while and she wanted revenge, but she was the princess and she couldn't allow herself such behaviour. She urged to show him how perfectly capable of displaying sensuality she was and the first thing that occurred to her was dancing.

She never showed off in public about the full capacity of her skills. Immediately as she got older enough to be allowed to stay late night in festivities, she got enraptured by the dancing of the concubines and she ended up learning to dance from them. She wanted to learn it only for herself, because she loved the graceful aesthetical aspects of the movements and she admired their performances. Her father didn’t allow her to do it but, like almost every other thing bringing joy to her life, she did it behind his back.

It was her secret talent. If she could disguise herself in the group of dancers to participate in their performance, it would be hard to difference her from the actual performers. With that in mind, she started imagining Achilles's reaction if he could see her dancing like that. She wondered if he would feel as teased as he made her feel, if he would acknowledge her womanhood and if he would want her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Helen.

" Do we have to stay like this the entire time?" She complained.

" We have to wait until they leave. It’s the best for now. " The girl replied. " I don't get it. Does he enjoy himself thinking that everyone is watching him cheat on you or what? Anyone would expect that after the devotion you faked he would think it twice and be more discrete but no, there he is... making you look like a fool. "

" I'm thankful to get him away from me. I only wish he could have some decency and keep it private.” The queen confessed. ” I don't deserve this humiliation. I'm a good wife, I do everything he demands of me. All I ask in return is to be respected, at least in public." Her voice was breaking a bit.

“ It’s never enough with them, they only think about themselves. “ the princess reminded. her.” I think we should do the same more often.”

“ What we did classifies as such.”

“ It wasn’t entirely selfish. We saved lifes … and their egos from an historical defeat. I mean a bit of real selfishness. A good payback. ”

“ I just want to be left alone. A lover wouldn’t repair the scars in my pride.”

“Many men would give everything they have for a night with you.” The princess commented to her. “ Do you never feel the need of being desired by a man that you want? “

“ Where did your good judgement go?” Helen mocked her.

“ You know everything about my sentimental life, but we never talk about yours.”

“ What most of those men have to offer is not what I would wish.” The queen explained. “ I have experienced desire. If we are talking about impossible aspirations, I want love.”

“ Why choose? You can have both.”

“ What did I do of you? Are you hearing yourself? Aren’t you the same girl whose goal was to have a nicely arranged marriage planned by herself using political strategy ? ”

“ You don’t want me to give up on love. Why should I let you do it ?

" You know better than anyone why I have to."

" That's not going to happen. My mother was alone, we have each other." the princess remarked. " Look at what we accomplished. We stopped a massacre, made a new friend and I got closer to the man I love, more than I ever thought I would be. "

" I told you, it is too late for me. "

" Helen,I used to think that my feelings for Achilles were a fantasy. I was ready to accept it as a comforting dream and carry on with my life. Thanks to you, I changed my mind. " the girl explained. "You have helped me so much. How can you think that I wouldn't do the same for you? "

" I doubt I would find love in a place like this, but I appreciate your concern. " the queen stated.

" Promise me that, if you do someday, you will let me help instead of giving up."

" We won a battle, dear. Not the war. " Helen clarified.

" We can win many more. " her niece reassured her. " You deserve to be loved and to own your desire."

"To be honest, I feel I’m more aware of what I don’t like in a man than of my actual preferences. I don't know what i like anymore. "

" Don't worry. We have time, i would love to help you to rediscover your taste. If it is not now, we will keep digging into figuring it out."

" It's not wise to get involved with someone that would never be mine. "

" You know what? I think I overcomed that. '' the princess declared. " I don't care anymore. Maybe Achilles will never be mine and so what? I want to be with him, I don't mind how. Perhaps he will never make me his wife and that's fine, I don't need to own him to love him. Love is not only about marriage. If marriage can exist without love, love can exist outside of marriage and you can find it. "

“ You have to tell me now what happened in that excuse of a bathing ceremony.” Helen teased her, encouraged and excited.

The princess tried to explain it to her carefully, watching over her expressions and paranoidly checking for the presence of unwanted listeners. Listening to her cheered Helen up.

“ What are you doing sitting here? “ she reprimanded her.

“ If I’m going to do a move, it has to be safer than this. “ The girl clarified. “ I can’t risk being seen by my father or inspiring gossip.”

“ He could have kissed you right there. “

“ Reason in the form of Hesione stopped me from finding out if he would have .” The princess added. “ I don’t know if i can do it now. Have you seen all those women ready to step on each other's heads for him? I’m not going to do that.“

“ You don’t have to be part of that,you are one step ahead.” Helen stated “ If you want a moment to get things clear. This is it.”

With that, she dragged her up from her seat.

The young ladies mixed themselves in the crowd, trying to have fun on their own. The princess procured not to concentrate in trying to find Achilles and just enjoy herself in the company of her aunt. Helen’s mood improved from the brief downfall it had because she redirected her thoughts. Instead of thinking of the public humiliation brought to her by her husband’s behaviour, she focused on the victory over him that she got. She humiliated him indirectly, her actions caused a situation that made him feel like an idiot in front of his brother. Some justice was served that time and she was able to celebrate. It was a small triumph, but just thinking about that made her start laughing without an apparent reason. The sudden boost in her joyful mood started to manifest in her dancing.

The queen’s grace was famous, but Helen never looked prettier as she did when she was really happy. She irradiated her emotions and the ambient felt renewed around her. Bright of happiness, she started dancing right in front of the musicians and the magnetic effect of her approach made them play the same song for longer, just so she wouldn’t leave. The percussionist was jaw dropping with her and even the princess was impressed by how obvious he was.

He was bewitched, but not in a lustfull way. The handsome young man was worshipping Helen with his music and she started responding with her dancing straightly to him. Since she realized that her niece was right next to her evaluating the situation, she encouraged her to follow her moves instead of teasing them with stares. Then, both girls found themselves dancing for the musicians and letting themselves go to the beat of their music.

Unlike the queen, the princess tried to keep her moves as chaste and cheerful as possible. Still, forgetting all her concerns to the sound of the music almost ruined her intentions . The fastening of the beat betrayed her for an instant and some very inappropriate hip flicks she did under the influence of the stimulation around her impressed her dancing companion. She isolated the movement of her hips to the rhythm of the song with a great synchrony. Sharp hip flicks combined with contractions of the lower belly creating a single circled swing. Cheering from the crew of artists made her realize of how she let herself go completely and she calmed down, going back to her usual style.

It was too late, Helen was too curious to let it go. Once the song ended, she had to abandon her admiror. Then, she started questioning her.

“ What was that?? It was incredible! “ She complimented her.

“ Sorry. The beat was great and you were pushing me in the wrong direction.”

“ When were you going to tell me about this?” The queen recriminated her.

“ Our mystery is solved. I think you are into pretty boys worshipping you with respect. Sweet admiration, not those looks of when you know that the man is mentally undressing you.” The princess teased her to avoid the topic.

“ Don’t try to get away from this. “ Helen teased back. “ You have to teach me that.”

“ I lost control, I wasn’t supposed to do that here .” the princess excused herself.

“ You will explain to me later where that came from, now I want to learn how to move my hips like that.”

“ We all have our unique ways of expression. You have your makeup skills, I have this.” the girl joked. “ I didn’t mean to hide it from you, the occasion to show you never presented. “

“ It presented itself now.” Helen rectified. “ We have music and a proper space. “

She was reluctant, but agreed.

“ Only because it’s you who is asking. I owe you too much to say no.” She admitted. “ This is absolutely inappropriate so i will only show you hip moves. For a proper lesson, I need secrecy."

“ Forget protocols, we are having fun.” Helen encouraged her.

Her niece took the position of instructor and decomposed the otherwise integrated steps of the movement so Helen could learn it and copy it. Very slow like at first, the queen achieved it with great enthusiasm. The princess oriented her into repeating it a few times before trying to find a pace with the rhythm. She guided her into picking that pace and, soon, both were dancing at a matching tempo. Helen looked bright with happiness.

" I don't want to brag, but this makes me feel beautiful." she joked.

" It's not very lady-like, but it's fun." her niece replied.

They were being happy with themselves, not caring about anything else. The relegated corner of the place they picked as their fun zone wasn't the safest spot to feel some freedom, but it was the best they had. For once, they ignored the certain chances of attracting stares, the perceptions and everything that tied them. The princess showed the queen two more combinations of hip movements. They were trying hip locks to the sides when a sudden but partially expected intromision ruined their bubble of concentration.

" Watch out, princess. Those moves look so sharp that you could have cutted me with your hips." Achilles told the mycenaean as he passed by right next to her.

The sound of his voice was enough to make her jolt and she lost herself to it, immediately stopping what she was doing.

" I’m glad to see you having fun. I tought you weren't going to get up. " Patroclus cheerfully saluted them, appearing right after him.

Both ladies at once responded to his greetings.

" What are you doing over here?" Helen inquired. " We saw you dancing right in the center with some girls a while ago. You are doing great."

" To be fair, most only looked at me because I'm standing next to him." the boy admitted. " When we came nobody cared but now everyone does because they found out I'm the cousin of Achilles."

" I'm doomed to always being the daughter of Agamemnon, very few people care beyond that." the princess commented. " I treasure those and don't mind for the rest. "

" Don't worry. You will make a name for yourself soon and that will end." Helen added. " Younger noble girls from big cities can be like that but growing up makes them wiser. In a few years, you will start to be seen as yourself and they will adore you. "

Achilles was impressed by the soft naturality of their interactions. They were comforting him as close friends. He kept listening to their conversation.

" It's fine, It doesn't affect me that much. " Patroclus tried to explain himself better. " In fact, I'm hiding from your husband."

To the mention of him, Helen looked exasperated.

" What has he done now?"

" He was talking with Achilles and I was there with them. " the boy started telling them. " He must be too drunk to care about being too friendly. He started saying nice things about me and ended up offering me a woman. "

Helen got second hand embarrassment.

" I'm sorry, darling. Did he make you feel uncomfortable?"

" He said some stupid thing about how he had her before and she was perfect to make me a man. It was disgusting."

" That's the House of Atreus at it's best. Imagine them at their worst. " the princess added. " Ignore him, Pat. You may be too young, but are already a better man than him."

" I have faith in you." Helen emphasized. " I think you 'll be a great hero because your morals match your potential as a warrior. You will make us all proud."

" We love you. " the princess concluded. " Keep ignoring anything you hear from him or my father. They think they know better than everyone else but they are the worst combination of cruel and stupid. "

" I leave him with you just once and you are already pampering and overprotecting him?” Achilles commented, his mocking hiding a shade of happiness. " He knows that Menelaus is not a good example of what truly means to be a man. "

" He has you. " the queen complimented him. " You aren't perfect, but you are guiding him right. It doesn't matter how many battles you win. To me, he reflects the best of you. "

Patroclus smiled at her. Helen's praise impacted him in a positive way.

" She wasn't a strong supporter of you." The princess clarified. " Her opinion changed after meeting him."

" Spending so much time with people who love you changes the perspective. " The queen hinted, indirectly including her niece in the affirmation." I used to think you were a cold, emotionless man with no care for anything. Your bond with Patroclus is only one of many proofs of how wrong I was. I commited with you the same mistake everyone does with me: I judged you by what you appear to be. "

" Good, It's mutual." Achilles simply replied. " You are stronger than what I thought you could be. I started to see it in all the stories that your niece has told me about your shenanigans. I like you a lot more thanks to her."

" It's the first time ever when somebody likes me first. In Sparta, you will be addressed as Patroclus's cousin." the boy added, mocking him with pride.

" Seeing you again in my lands would bring me great joy. '' Helen stated." I hope that this shameful experience with Menelaus didn't scare you away."

" Don't worry, queen. " Achilles reassured her. "If you are guilty of anything, is of cherishing so much that he doesn't want to leave your side."

" I have new friends that like me for me. Get over it. " his little cousin kept joking.

" I celebrate it. They are a good influence for you. " Achilles replicated." Today you humiliated a king for the first time and you did it so cleverly that he couldn't find a way to argue. Agamemnon, of all kings. I can't be more proud. "

" He deserved it. He was trying to create spite between you and Ajax. That's low, even for someone like him. '' Patroclus explained.

" Thanks for helping me there. If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have stopped until offending one using the other." The princess told him." Not so long before he used to say that Ajax was a brute fool from an insignificant kingdom, now he wants to make him the next Hercules. He is desperate, he wants so badly to get rid of your cousin that he is willing to accept any other who would obey him.``

" I feel bad for any contestant in the army aspiring to get the same glorification he has." the boy affirmed. " Achilles has you, that's a great advantage. They will never make it."

The princess laughed softly, glancing at the warrior.

Achilles's gaze followed hers, in complicity.

" You are the queen's favourite, you will run with the same advantage. "

" The bright daughter of the highest commander designs political strategies for you… All the rest are doomed."

" You are so sweet!" the princess thanked him.

" I don't see why not pointing it out. "

" Agamemnon is too foolish to see it, but you think like a politician." Helen told her.

" What's greatly convenient, because having to stand polítical tangles is what Achilles hates the most about his work. " Patroclus insisted.

" Odysseus had helped him with that countless times. " the young lady reminded him.

" He is a king, his polítical work is for his own benefit." Helen remarked. " I know they are good friends, but the goal of Odysseus's work is not to raise him up above all the heroes."

" His competence has no chance because now he has you aligned with him and working with his interests. Honestly? I think that's a bit unfair." Patroclus concluded.

" They must have their own tricks." Achilles defended himself. " I guess she is mine now."

" We shouldn't be discussing this here. " the princess warned them. " Can we bring up something else ? This is a party, we are supposed to talk trivial things. "

" Where did you learn to dance? " Helen asked, pretending to be innocently curious.

" Seriously??"

" It is a trivial topic. " the queen remarked before explaining herself to the recently arrived men. " What you just saw was me attempting to learn some incredible moves I saw her doing. I had no idea, it was a total surprise and I'm very curious."

" The story behind it is not as interesting as you think it is." the princess clarified.

" When she says that, assume the opposite." Achilles mocked her.

" I have been secretly involved in dance practices of the palace's concubines for years. I don't like to show it at parties because it is something I learned for my own gratification and my father is not supposed to find out. " She confessed " Helen looks so happy, she inspired me to relax and I forgot were I was."

" Wait, are you a dancer? That explains a lot of things. " Patroclus commented, impressed. " I wrecked you when we were trying to teach you self defense but I noticed that you have some flexibility. "

" It's nothing compared with what it requires to be a fighter. '' the princess corrected him. " Being more specific, I'm not a dancer because it's not my occupation. I learned from actual dancers and I practice for fun. It's very liberating for me, a great pastime during the absences of my father. "

" How is it that we keep discovering secrets of yours? " Achilles asked.

" You are one of the few who know me as i am. " she tried to explain herself. " I discovered my fascination with dancing right after I started being allowed to stay all the way during parties. I saw a performance and I knew then that I wanted to do that. I wasn't paying attention to the lustful men around the dancers, I loved their movements. Men may see it only as their entertainment, but the dance looks like a celebration of femminity. I wanted that."

" How did you do it?" Helen insisted.

" It took some time. " She started telling. " When Agamemnon saw me following the girls at a gathering because I was trying to learn from them he was scandalized. He forbade it to me, he said that dancers were whores and no daughter of his was going to humiliate him behaving like a whore. He tried to make it up for me by sending me to the temple of Artemis to dance with the priestesses."

" Of course, you had to learn from the virgins. How would you dare to question his expectations? " Helen joked, sarcastically following the line of the reasonament.

" It wasn’t my wish, I did it because he said it. Dancing like a priestess was not what I wanted.” the princess kept explaining “ I went to the temple, behaved well, learned what they wanted to teach me and worshipped the goddess in the ritual dances. The priestesses liked me and my father started bragging about how his girl was so pure that the temple of the virgin goddess wanted her."

" He didn't let them have you because he needs grandchildren if he wants his bloodline to continue. " Patroclus guessed.

" I wouldn't have joined them. I honor the gods and sometimes i pray, but i never felt loved by any of them. I respect the dedication of their priestesses, they find fullfilment in serving them. It's not for me, I never felt the mistic call. " She commented. “I did what I was sent to do, I was respectful and that was the end of it. It didn't erase my original interest for the profane dances as Agamemnon thought it would."

Helen laughed briefly. It was always funny to hear examples of the complete ignorance about the sensibilities of women that the Atrides had.

" I waited until his next absence and I went to learn with the concubines of the palace. " The princess kept explaining. " They are not used to being respected by ladies. When I told them that I admired their dancing and I wanted to learn from them they didn't know what to say. It must have impacted them, because they agreed to instruct me in secret. That's how I learned. I keep joining their practices when I can. It helps me to relieve tension and it is my secret way of self expression."

" You managed to make yourself be equally liked by temple maidens and palace dancers? You are a true politician, even outside of politics." Achilles pointed out.

His comment made her smile.

“ Now that I think about it, It is the first time I see you dancing. I didn’t have the pleasure at the wedding party.” He reminded her.

“ I didn’t dance much that time and, certainly, not as i like to when I’m not being watched.” She replied.” This was an accident, Helen was flirting with one of the musicians and the ambient inspired me to lose control.”

“ I wasn’t flirting, I was dancing to his interpretation.” The queen defended herself.

“ You don’t need excuses with us. If you want me to kill your husband, just make a sign.” Achilles joked.

Helen laughed more than what she should have.

“ She is thinking about it!” Patroclus added, cracking of laughter.

“ It is not worthy to ruin your reputation for it, but thanks for the offer.”

“ It can be an accident in the middle of a battle. We can say that he got in the way of my spear.”

The princess laughed harder then.

“ See? She gets me.” The warrior commented.

“ It’s the same kind of grim joke I would have made.” She explained, still laughing. 

They shared glances, looking deeply into each other’s eyes for an instant. 

“ Do you want to dance with me?” Achilles offered her. “ We couldn’t last time and you are making me curious..” 

She took his hand as a sign of approval, smiling with delight. 

“ You can dance with me, Helen.” Patroclus playfully added, remarking how they seemed to have forgotten of them. 

Helen grabbed his hand and both were laughing, 

They walked following the intensity of the music’s sound with the intention of finding the group of musicians again. When they resumed dancing the princess stopped caring about anything else but her partner. It was reciprocal, because Achilles couldn’t take his eyes off her. Remembering some of the wild thoughts she have had before, she unveiled her sensuality for him within her dancing. Her movements were like a soft tease implying that there was so much more that she could be showing to him if the show would have been private. Her hips, waist and chest were the areas of her body that the moves highlighted. Combined with the graceful gesticulation of her hands and arms, it was a very appealing sight. 

She knew that he wasn't able to touch her more than what would look necessary because of the context and she was using it at her advantage. Still, since he wasn't able to express himself with actions, he did it with words. 

In a particular moment, when he ended up behind her while she was doing torso undulations, he got a chance to grab her hips and whisper close to her ear. 

" You should have done this in Phthia, behind closed gates." 

They were so close that he was able to smell the scent of her hair. 

" It wasn't the right time, but if you invite me back i can take my dancer suit for a private performance." Was her tempting reply. " I have one, you know? My friends helped me to make it." 

" I don't think I would let you go after that." 

She was melting, her heart was throbbing and her head racing with thoughts of him. However, she did her best to keep going as before because she needed to feel sure of being a woman in his eyes.

While his hands were still on her hips, she changed the move and started doing internal hip circles. The sharp motion, first of her right hip and then the left, incited him to pull away one hand at the time, following the rhythm of her every action. The roundness of the hip rotation made her push her butt slightly against him in a movement that looked accidental but didn't feel as such. 

She put some distance between them, enough to spin around and face him again. The song ended shortly afterwards. 

" Sorry, It was the music. I almost forgot that you were there. " She apologised, faking innocence. 

" Some people may be staring ... Don't you care for discretion anymore?" He teased her. 

“ Most people here are drunk. They couldn’t care less, I couldn't care less.” She answered. “ Besides, this was pretty discrete compared to what I can actually do.” 

“ Why are you doing this? ” 

“ Because I want.” She simply admitted. “ You are the only man I ever wanted to dance for, the first one who has me like this.”

 It was a strange confession of feelings. Metaphorically disguised, but it was there. 

Achilles didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t wish to, he couldn’t do that at the moment. First, because of the context surrounding them but mostly, because it wasn’t a good time to be open with her. He didn’t want her to confound his own growing feelings for her with a rush of lust. He cared deeply for her, it started fast and it took him by surprise. He felt good having her in his life, even when it was at moments. After each of their reunions he felt a bit more infatuated. 

Right there, she was making his body crave for hers, but he didn’t want that to be his first response to her affections. He guessed that she was acting so sensually because she wanted to confess herself but didn’t know how. He thought that she must have heard that was the way in which he prefered to be approached, that she had to make herself be wanted for him. He would have lied if he would have denied that he was enjoying it, but he was trying to avoid thinking with his crotch. 

She had given him plenty of subtle signs about her feelings before and he never gave her a direct answer, mostly because he didn't find a good moment for it and part of him felt like he couldn't allow himself to do it. He didn’t want her to assume that he only reacted then because he was horny. 

He was trying to do better for her, but she didn’t understand it like that at first.

 The princess interpreted his silence as rejection. For the sake of her own pride, she pretended not care. She kissed his cheek,smiled at him and went back to Helen’s side. For the rest of the night,she tried to carry on as it never happened. Internally, she felt stupid, but it was the only way she found to overcome it.

She focused again on helping Helen. Acting carelessly, the first thing she did afterwards was to take advantage of a short pause of the music to talk to the man she was sharing glances with as a way to stimulate her to get closer. The princess started by praising his playing and asking his name in front of her and Patroclus. Smiling proudly, he told them to address him as Alexander. The princess didn’t hesitate in starting calling him Alex. He was very respectful, especially of the queen. He expressed his admiration for her in a kind way and didn't attempt anything on her, clearly seeing her as unreachable. Helen seemed to enjoy his harmless attention. In the conversation, they also found out that Patroclus had musical inclinations. Alexander was a percussionist playing Toubeleki and Patroclus made his contribution to the small talk speaking about his experiences learning to play the khitara. Helen was grateful for the care of her friends, both trying to make efforts for her just because they saw her getting along with him. For obvious reasons, the talk was short, but it was a good start. 

They lost sight of Achilles and the princess was secretly relieved for it. She was mortified thinking that her attempt of pursuing him ruined everything between them. Over the course of the party, the three stayed together because they were already comfortable enough with each other.

They got involved in trivial talks with many different people. At one moment, they crossed paths again with Ajax while they were waiting for servants to bring them something to drink. The salaminian hero was doing the same and he greeted their encounter. He was a bit tipsy, but he was good company because he was funnier to be around than what most people assumed. The four fooled around together for a while. They were drinking and joking and the princess almost forgot how bad she was feeling, until he reminded her that she still owed him a dance because he was the first one trying to get her away from the table. He was just joking and It wasn’t his fault, so she tried to keep being sweet to him. Her polite reply explained her refusal linking it to his circumstantial state. Avoiding to sound mean, harsh or sarcastic, she promised him that she was going to dance with him the next time she would find him sober. Fortunately, It made him laugh. 

He resumed their previous conversation in an infinitely less formal way, saying that he was perfectly fine because he was the strongest man in Greece and the effect of a few drinks weren’t an impediment for him. He told them that he could show them on the spot how he was able to lift both women from the ground at the same time and Helen considered the discussion about his state over, fearing that he would actually try it. She felt relatively comfortable with him and it was a grateful surprise. For such an intimidant looking man, he was very nice and likeable. After sharing some more laughs, she ended up dancing with him.

Their brief encounter cheered the princess up a bit, simply because it was very hard not to laugh with the amount of funny insanity that they came up with. Still, she kept feeling out of place, like if nobody really needed her there. Helen was probably waiting until the end so she could have a longer conversation with the percussionist and Patroclus deserved some time to have fun on his own if he wanted that. She couldn’t help to think that she was ruining the party for them . Openly expressing her wish of not being followed, she excused herself saying that she had enough fun, was too tired and prefered to rest. She hugged her friends, thanking them for their company and wishing them goodnight.

In her walk to her bedroom,the princess speeded up her pace to avoid being disturbed. She didn’t want to be approached by anyone else, wishing to forget about her feelings of shame. She almost reached her destination, but the hold of Achilles's strong arms deviated her in an empty hall. 

“I can't deal with this now. " she admitted. " Would you let me go? I will talk to you in the morning"

 " If we wait any longer, we will never do it. " He stated, embracing her waist. 

" What are you talking about??" She complained. 

“ Don’t play the fool now. You can’t try to hide anymore.” 

" I know that I ruined everything. " 

While hearing her, he seemed slightly confused. 

" By now, you must know how I feel for you. '' She explained herself. " I may be good at reading the feelings of others, but I get easily overwhelmed by mines... I have spent my lifetime training myself to suppress them, I don't understand myself sometimes... I wanted you to see me as the woman I am because only then I could make you understand how I feel."

 Her explanation made him chuckle for an instant. 

" What's so funny ??." She tried to pull away from his contact, but he was obviously stronger than her. 

" I see you as a woman, I have always done it. " He replied. 

" I know how you act around the women that you like. It is not how you acted with me. " 

" Do you think that I don't want you?" A light chuckle escaped from his lips again. " You are so lovely." 

" That's it. I'm always the sweet innocent lamb, I can't escape from that. " She complained. " I'm a living, breathing woman with feelings and desires. "

 " I'm aware of that. " He reassured her. " That was a very interesting reminder of it, but I know it." 

" Then why do you keep ignoring me? " Her voice showed frustration. 

" Things between us are not so easy. " 

" You know, before you start thinking about it, I have to say that stepping into helping you was a choice I made based on my convictions. " She clarified. " I believe in you, I didn't do it looking for any retributions. Even if you don't correspond my feelings, that wouldn't change anything. I'm still commited to our pact."

" Calm down." He caressed her hair. " Can you stop assuming that I think the worst of you? I don't." 

" I don't know what else to do to get a concrete answer from you.” She insisted. “I just want that. I don't mind the outcome. If you don't feel the same, I will respect it. " 

Then, he crashed his lips against hers. It was a sweet kiss, intended to serve as a response confessing his affections, but it was charged with the passion of the long craving for it that he also had. She was in such bliss that he felt her body trembling. 

He smiled against her lips. 

" Are you alright?" 

" It’s the longing. " was all she could answer. 

“ You didn't have to do anything else to get me. " He clarified. “ I liked you in Sparta, now i think it’s something more than that.” 

" I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day we met." She confessed. " I didn't know then that it was going to get that far, but here i am." 

.” Odysseus spent half of the way back telling me to stay away from you like a father scaring away a suitor that he dislikes. “ He confessed. “ I did it for a good long while, but you came to me on your own and you dazzled me."

 " He doesn't dislike you, you are his friend. " She clarified " He knows of somebody who hates you and he tries to protect me from him. " 

" I will never allow that old drunk to hurt you. " He said, in what sounded like a promise. 

" Would you steal me from him?" She playfully joked. 

" If it's what I have to do to keep you safe, I would." 

She kissed him, clinging onto him and refusing to pull away until being breathless. In that act, she condensed years of hidden adoration for him and all her hopes. 

Achilles felt it, and he couldn’t help to love her for it. 

“ My room is close. “ She offered. “ It’s safer to continue there.” 

She giggled and headed first. It wasn't wise of them to be seen getting inside there together, so they had to do it in turns.

The princess arrived first, leaving the door unlocked. Her heart was racing with expectancy. The warrior appeared shortly afterwards, closing the door behind them. Immediately after seeing him, she kissed him again. 

" Slow down, lioness." He teased her after she finally pulled away. 

" I wish I could." she joked in reply. 

" This is what I mean when I say that you are adorable, not that I see you as a cute little girl. " He commented." You are so tender, it gets me."

 " Really?" She asked, impressed. 

" I love it. " He answered, honestly. " I also loved what you did for me tonight. " 

" It didn't look like that. " She pointed out. 

" It didn't have to look like that. It was dangerous. " He reminded her. " I like some risk, but you took a pointless one." 

" I wanted you to want me and I think it worked." 

" You need to know that I don't want you because you did that.” He confessed. “ I want you for you and I want all of you, not just this." 

" Then take me." Her proposition sounded like a beg. " I'm ready." She was talking against his lips, holding his hands and pushing them against her body. 

" Not tonight, princess." He was teasing her, his cheeky tone got on her nerves. 

" Why?? " She complained, her frustration almost made her raise the tone of her voice. “ I want to be with you, I don’t care for anything else. Father will end up selling me for power anyways, It will be the buyer’s problem. ” 

" You didn't let me finish." He corrected her. " I'm not going to take you for myself tonight. " He explained as he started to leave a trail of kisses from her jaw in direction to her neck. " But I have many other ways to show you how good you make me feel. " 

She gasped and he smiled against her skin.

 " The massage was amazing. " He added as he kept descending. " And that dance? You are spoiling me, that’s royal treatment." 

" There is nothing I wouldn't do for you." 

He stopped for an instant just so he could look at her in the eye, feel the intensity of her love, and kiss her lips once more.

[mymelancholiesblues]

No, Mia isn’t  "low-tier" compared to Ada (morally speaking, or w/e) – a measured answer?/essay

So, a couple of Ada haters tried to put up a false symmetry between both of these characters there on twitter, and it inspired me to put my own thoughts down in a more articulate essay as to why that's (Ada's somehow being morally worse than Mia) not sustained by canon in Resident Evil.

standing there, killing time

can't commit to anything but a crime

all the good girls go to hell

'cause even God herself has enemies

and once the water starts to rise

and heaven's out of sight

she'll want the Devil on her team. ⁕

First things first: let us debunk the false symmetry that they tried to establish between these two characters with extremely distinct archetypes – and worse, the following replies to this false symmetry and its poor arguments trying to validate it, pointing out that, in fact, no, character B (that would be Ada, btw) – which is so evidently and ridiculously different from character A (and that would be Mia) – is, in fact, WAY WORSE than character A, and then proceeding to assert some unsupported propositions about misogyny in Resident Evil (which, tbh, definitely IS a recurring problem in the franchise, but that in this case particularly, little or does not apply AT ALL) and how Ada contributes to "the perpetration of a biological cold war".

Starting with what differentiates Mia from Ada grotesquely: we know NOTHING of Ada's true alliances in RE's world. Mia, however, canonically worked for a group that participated in the importation and exportation as well as the manufacturing, testing and marketing of biological weapons: "The Connections", a CRIMINAL SYNDICATE which, amongst other things, was also involved in money laundering, assassinations as well as weapons and drug trafficking. I don't care at all about Mia, so I don't intend to waste much of my time going on about her role in the plot, but people should've already realized by just that much how infinitely dishonest is to try to put these two characters as "similar" ones, or argue that Ada is somehow worse.

Another detail that shouldn't escape anyone's attention too, are the origins and nationalities of both – and yes, I intend to briefly bring up racism against eastern-Asian looking characters (a silent plague that takes form by each passing day in all fiction fandoms) and anti-China xenophobia, but for now, hold this tea there just before I drop it: Mia is canonically American, and previously a Texas-state resident; meanwhile, we have no confirmation of Ada's nationality except for her pretty evident Chinese ancestry. But, as I said, hold it there for a while.

i) espionage — the job

red so silent

wait a minute

or just a little while.

what are you looking for? ⁕

At all times that Ada's "job" was brought up in this franchise, in ALL of her cameos, she has NEVER been called a mercenary in the original Japanese. She's always referred to as a SPY. Even in RE2R, the most recent title in which she's featured in, the original text of the game makes a point of labelling her as a SPY (and not a mercenary) in the dialogue that transpires between Annette and Leon.

It's the North-American translation and correspondent localization that now and then falls for the equivocal use of this other term. This distinction is important since espionage NECESSARILY implies operating in an organized service for, perhaps a country, or a political cause, or a class/group, or a corporation, or whatever. While a mercenary is someone who's acting per their self financial interests, indiscriminately selling their specialized "labour" and skills to anyone who'll offer more.

Ada's not a mercenary, she's a spy. But Mia, in addition to being hired to a canonically criminal company, was also the handler personally assigned to Eveline. I don't care how exactly Mia got in that predicament but the fact is: Mia was canonically employed by a company that profited over illicit activities and directly watched as a family was destroyed and toyed with by this new killing machine (Eve). Yet, we can't state for sure that we know to whom or to what Ada is truly affiliated with.

ii) sources — check them

who's a heretic now?

am I making sense?

how can you make it stick?

and I'm on a trial

waiting 'til the beat comes out. ⁕

This fandom should put a little more thought into which translation and localization of the game texts, dialogues and files they are using to support their arguments. I know that in some cases the United States people have a bit of an inclination to think of themselves as the owners of the planet and deem English as the only language that matters in this world, but let's not forget that RE is a Japanese franchise (wow, insane, right?!). Therefore, the most valid script, with the greatest amount of details, and highest credibility, is the Japanese original. Throughout these years, there have been several errors in translation and localization of the Japanese original to North-American English. And, believe me, curiously enough, plenty of those concern Ada, since she's often mentioned or referred to in a very vague way – without the use of pronouns or adjectives or adverbs that could help in indicating gender. This ended up causing those details and mentions to her to get overlooked, even though in the Japanese text it was a clear reference to her character (per observation of context).

iii) the good guys — one of

head in the dust

feet in the fire

labour on that midnight wire

listening for that angel choir

you got nowhere to run

careful son, you got dreamers plans

but it gets hard to stand. ⁕

Yes, as much as haters try to minimize it, it is SIGNIFICANT that Ada saved so many important characters and stood for unquestionably heroic actions in so many moments - like stopping everything she was doing so she could help completely random Chinese civilians with the helicopter she managed to pilot in that chaos in China (yeah, I know you haters love to forget about this, but it happened, it's there in canon, and no, it wasn't her direct OR indirect responsibility what was going on in China: REPLAY RE6 and for the love of GOD, never again argue that what she did was somehow "the equivalent of evacuating a city after selling a WMD to destroy that same city". It's a case of pure intellectual dishonesty to say such a thing. It's canon that Carla was the one who caused what happens in China, PLEASE, PLAY RE6).

Furthermore, Ada shows compassion on some occasions even for characters who are directly putting her in harms ways, like Annette (in RE2 OG, right after - in order to defend herself - she slaps Annette leading her to lose balance and collapse over the sewers fences, Ada makes an effort in trying to pull Annette back and prevent her from falling) and Carla.

Replay RE4 and pay attention to it, pay attention to her solo campaign: getting involved with Leon's journey in Spain hasn't brought any real benefit to her mission or herself: Ada deviates from her main path several times due to worrying about him and trying to help him and almost ends up dead in several of these occasions over her insistence in doing so: by saving him from Bitores Mendez, by helping him and Ashley against Sadler, by confronting Krauser and stopping him.

It's so lazy to only read/listen to a file in which she says in English that "Leon might be useful to her plans" (this is way more nuanced in the Japanese original of Ada's Report), and ignore everything that was SHOWN in the game: every effort she made to ensure that Leon could rescue Ashley, remove the parasite from his and her bodies, and escape from that hell-island.

The jet-ski she left for their escape was ALREADY there before she was captured by Sadler (or you think she arranged it while she was caught?). Leon having to intervene and save her from Sadler WASN'T her plan. It WASN'T her plan to take the sample from Leon's hands. She wanted to help him get out of there with Ashley and she guaranteed he could do so, she wanted to get the sample by herself and escape too while sending that hell to kingdom's come. But, because she chose to help Leon rescue Ashley right in front of Sadler, she ends up captured.

On her end, Mia never did anything minimally compared to that, and all of her "selflessness" or self-sacrificing actions involved a much, MUCH smaller scope than Ada's: wanting to help her husband and HERSELF is not at all comparable to saving a few dozens of unknown Chinese civilians. So no, they aren't "cut from the same cloth". They don't come from the same place, nor do they share the same intentions or goals, and their contributions to the RE storyline are quite different.

iv) unknown true purpose (shades of grey)

lining up in the background

waiting for the crowd shot to be seen

in the shadow of the big screen

everybody begs to be redeemed. ⁕

In databooks, Ada is recurrently described as "a Chinese spy with extraordinary physical abilities, vigorous health and composed mind and spirit, capable of coping with grim situations and handling even the most difficult requests without losing composure". If we are paying attention to the storytelling ingame, however, we know that this isn't always the case: Ada did let her mask of unswerving emotional and physical strength fall and showed a very fragile side under strenuous circumstances a couple of times already.

Also, in these databooks, they often point out that "she has her own 'true purpose' and has FREQUENTLY betrayed organizations and clients to achieve it". Huh, we can AGAIN, by this only, see how completely different she's from Mia, who personally watched an entire family being driven to insanity by Eveline's hand.

Furthermore, in these databooks, it's often said that "this true purpose is still obscure and whether she truly cared for anyone or simply used her charms to manipulate people that crossed paths with her isn't ever clear". If people are willing to be open-minded and exercise their text comprehension skills, though, they'll see that in multiple occasions of emotional confrontation it has been established time and time again that yes, Ada DOES care. She wasn't capable of shooting Leon and there has been a couple of other times that failing to choose a cool, sociopathic calculation and pragmatical demeanour over empathy and humanity towards others has put her in harms ways: nonetheless she still chose it.

v) positive impact

I'm gonna break the cycle

I'm gonna shake up the system

I'm gonna destroy my ego. ⁕

To this point, RE's plot systematically leads us to believe that Ada has been covertly acting behind the scenes of multiple biological incidents COLLECTING INFORMATION (the job of a spy, who would've thought! lmao), that is valuable to numerous organizations, companies, groups and different contexts, but at the same time of allegedly offering to handle this knowledge for the right price to the big players involved with bioterrorism and clandestine trading of bioweapons, she's also working to sabotage said players.

This is evident throughout the franchise: she intended to hurt Umbrella's business. She outwitted and deceived Wesker multiple times. She even undermined Simmons, someone who was in a position of power in the US government and actively using that position to lead bioterrorist ventures on the parallel side.

There's no concrete evidence or hint as to what she does with the information she collects, and for all purposes and effects, I can presume that she's gathering this knowledge to assist in the discovery of countermeasures and vaccination studies. I might as well argue that she is a Chinese spy who is working against European and North-American capitalism and the imperialism that creates such monsters like the biochemical and bioweapons industry and that her real objective is to dismantle the market for bioweapons and bioterror supported mainly by the USA (see: Simmons and The Family).

That is, as long as it is unclear what her true purpose is, I have the freedom to surmise whatever the heck I want and that all of what she's been doing was for the sake of the greater "good" - and I'll even have canon moments to support this reasoning as it's clear that she regularly sabotages her customers (customers that are unquestionably established as playing for the "evil" side, with perverse intentions) - throughout the franchise. She did this on RE2, RE4, RE6 and Damnation. It's there, transparent in canon, people just choose to ignore it.

She laughs in the face of whoever she's talking to by the end of Damnation, saying she doesn't intend to deliver the Plaga; she scoffs at Simmons; she betrays Wesker and kills Krauser. She had been sabotaging Wesker for so long, that he sent Krauser to be the main agent in the mission in Spain, and Ada was just a "side effect" that he didn't have in control and had to keep an eye on, so he ordered Krauser to keep tabs on her. It's not a mutually beneficial dynamic. Ada doesn't want Wesker to succeed, she despises him; this is clear in the games in which they interact. There are even files that indicate that she was trying to double-cross and get in the way of his plans for at least 2 years before Spain, and he was constantly catching up with her. See here and here.

On her end, Mia was employed by and consciously working for a criminal syndicate.

vi) a (secretly) helping hand

oh, I'm a master pretender

just felt more alone

the further I'd go

but I'll stick around

I'll be your master defender

yeah, I'll stick around. ⁕

Ada approached characters such as John Clemens and Luis Sera, and both had a canonical intention to, in addition to putting an end to their connections with the criminal companies and organizations they've been working for, also expose and denounce them for their crimes. It's in this context that Ada comes into contact with them. And why is that?

Check John's background: he had made up his mind about disclosing Umbrella's crimes to the public. Check Luis' background: Ada went to Spain to assist in his extradition since he feared for his own life if he resolved to turn his back on the cult of Los Illuminados, and also dreaded the consequences of the liberation of Las Plagas on an international scale.

Keep in mind that Ada handed over to Wesker a USELESS Plaga sample. Wesker only got the sample currently circulating in the underground market because he went after Krauser's body. We don't know what Ada did with the master Plaga sample she obtained. We only know from Ada's Report and the Plaga Recovery file that she didn't deliver it to Wesker, and he needed to go out for a plan B to get it.

Even the G-Virus sample that fell into the hands of the clandestine business, it's possible to argue that Ada's involvement in it was flimsy, since Simmons CANONICALLY made over a thousand laboratory tests in Sherry, and, as we know, he was a leading figure in bioterrorism and bioweapons trading with the aid of his position in the US government.

But, guess what, Ada clearly is a non-white character with obvious Chinese heritage and Mia is white, so of course, OF COURSE, someone can so nonchalantly affirm that Ada, this "vile bitch", is somehow WORSE than Mia. The same Mia who watched the Bakers being destroyed. Right.

Also: trying to validate one's point by claiming anything related to the misogyny present in RE franchise, while IN THE SAME BREATH AND TWEET reducing Ada's entire character arc to that of "a sociopathic bitch cured by the magic dick of her love interest" is supposed to be a joke, right? No, really. Joke.

conclusion and a word against misogyny

we are waiting on a telegram to

give us news of the fall

I am sorry to report

dear Paris is burning after all

we have taken to the streets

in open rejoice, revolting

we are dancing a black waltz

fair Paris is burning after all. ⁕

To any Ada fan that has been reading this so far: PLEASE, I ask to consider refraining to use the "oh yes, Ada did some bad shit, bUT" take to defend the character because that isn't sustained by canon in RE, lmao. She didn't do anything evil that had an indisputable bad impact on the plot and other characters arcs. For one, I myself do love some villains, but that isn't the case with Ada.

She did do some unconventional shit yes, since she's a morally GRAY character and an anti-heroine, but by the end of the day, each and every action of hers had a positive impact on the journey of other characters and main plot. Just pay attention to it.

Like idk man, Black Widow, Elektra Natchios, Scarlet Witch and Black Cat from Marvel, Catwoman from DC, Yennefer from The Witcher (some pop culture examples that come to mind).

Saying that this is an "extremely selfish prototypal bad bitch except when it comes to the magical redeeming dick of her love interest" it's a grotesque reduction of a complex female character, and, in its attempt to critique the misogyny present in RE's franchise an expression of misogyny in itself.

Remember: Ada has actions and impact on the franchise ASIDE and IN ADDITION to her romantic involvement with Leon.

[kilojulietsierra]

Claro - Chapter Two

Angel Reyes x Original Female Character

It feels good to be posting stories again! 

It may be worth mentioning that this will be and Adelita free fic. 

In case you missed Chapter One - read it here!

Chapter Two

He hadn’t seen her since that night but he thought about her a lot. He’d deny it if anyone asked but Angel was always hoping if kept his eyes open, he’d catch a glimpse of her somewhere. Anywhere.

He’d even made it a bit of a habit of trying to stop by that bar as much as possible, even going so far as to stop by on his own a couple of times. No luck. 

But one night, weeks later, his luck changed.

This time it was him and Coco kicking Gilly and EZ’s ass. It was nice to be on the winning side for a change. A bar maid stepped up to their table with a tray full of Dos Equis balanced in one hand and a bar napkin in her other hand. “These are for you,” she handed out the beers to a bunch of blank but grateful stares, “and this is for you.” she handed him his beer and the bar napkin. 

Angel took the beer and the napkin and stared at them both. Finally noticing his boys staring at him, he examined the napkin and saw the note scrawled across it. “Para ti y tus hermanos”  He read it three times, confused. He glanced from each of his brothers then to the rest of the bar.

She was openly staring at him, obviously waiting for him to catch up.

“I’ll be right back.” He didn’t even look back at the others as he headed for the bar. 

They held gazes as he got closer and closer to where she sat. Perched on a tall stool, with a cracked vinyl cushion. Her long legs crossed at the knee, her white tank top riding up slightly on her back, exposing two dimples on either side of her spine, as she leaned comfortably against the bar. One hand propping her head up, the other toying with the end of a long chain necklace. 

She was alone this time, and smiling a different kind of smile than the last time.

“Gracias.” He held up the beer and the note as he stepped up to the bar next to her.

 “De nada.” She didn’t even pick her head up from her hand. 

Angel squared up to her a little more, facing her completely, grinning. “Hablas Espanol fluido? O Solo lo aprendiste en la escuela?” He was testing her. Not hard though. Just in case.

Her face didn’t change, she just smiled back. “Por supuesto hablo fluido, soy de Santo Padre.” 

Angel smiled back, impressed, and intrigued. “Not gonna lie, there’s somethin’ sexy about a white girl speaking Spanish.” 

The woman laughed, finally setting up a little straighter. “Is that all it takes?” 

He very pointedly looked her up and down, chewing on his bottom lip as he did so, “I mean those legs don’t hurt.” He watched her roll her eyes but keep smiling at him, her eyes sparking in front of him. “You play pool?” 

~~~

They had given up on pool several beers ago, happy to sit on the sidelines while the others duked it out. Angel had drug two stools over for them to sit on while they talked. 

“Katarina.” 

“Katarina.” she echoed, chuckling as he repeated her name again. She’d lost track of how many times she had heard him roll her name off his tongue. She wasn’t gonna stop him anytime soon. She agreed that the harsh, eastern European name sounded much better with his accent anyway. 

They had talked, flirted, and slowly but surely crept into each others personal space, physically and mentally. It was late and she knew she really should be leaving, she just couldn’t quite bring herself to get up and walk away. Not yet. 

As if Angel could read her thoughts or at least sense something was tugging her away from him he smoothly reached out and took hold of her left hand. “I gotta ask you somethin... “ his hands were large, warm, rough, but he was so soft as he turned her wrist over and rubbed a thumb across the simple tattoo on her wrist. Clean but clunky lines of black, thin ink faded by time and life. “But I don’t wanna… you know… offend.” 

The way he bobbed his head and gestured with his free hand as he said it made her chuckle and Katarina stretched her own fingers out to brush her knuckles against the lean muscl of the forearm that held her wrist captive. “Preguntame.” 

He made a face again, that face, the face he made every time she dropped some Spanish into their conversation or any time he or his brothers had fallen into their other language and she had kept up perfectly fine. His eyes would jump to hers, and his teeth would slide over his bottom lip. It was a dangerous face. 

“This ink,” eventually he turned his attention back to the tattoo that had started this particular discussion, “It’s poke and stick, not professional, wasn’t done in a shop.” 

That caught her off guard. She knew she could lie. Tell him it was a stupid decision at a stupid time in her life, or that a friend had done it. Neither would be bold faced lies… but neither were the whole truth either. “Technically… That wasn’t a question.” She reached for her beer and downed the rest of it in one go, taking the moment to be proud of herself for the expert-ish level avoidance. 

She stood up, revelled in the way that his eyes and his body followed her, as she stepped between his legs. He spread them wider to give her room and his hands settled against his thighs, palms opened towards her on the off chance he’d have the opportunity to touch her. With steady, sure hands she pulled open his kutte and pulled out his phone from an inside pocket. She grabbed his left thumb, unashamed and pressed it to the home button to unlock it, winking as he stared at her in a daze. 

Once she was done putting in her name and phone number she slid the phone back in his pocket and backed away. Unable to keep the bawdy, evil smirk from her face. “Next time you buy me a beer, maybe I’ll tell you that story.” 

On impulse he hooked a finger through one of her belt loops just as she was about out of his arms reach. 

Internally Katarina fought down a wave of panic but it was unwarranted. There was no tension in his grip. A gesture, not a demand. At this her smile softened and she continued to back away until his finger slipped from the belt loop and his hand settled back on his thigh.

“Buenos noches, querida.” His gaze was still flirty and heated, he still looked her up and down as she paused one more moment, but it was all a little softer, if only a little. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

~~~

“I’m not arguing! I’m just saying,” He paused in his rebuttal long enough to hold the door open and guide her through it with a hand on her back, “The series went totally off the rails like… season six, season 7… we can all agree season eight fuckin’ blows, so why waste your time reading the next fucking 8,0000 page book. You know it’s just gonna make it worse.” 

“Because the book is always better!” she turned on him as they strolled down the sidewalk, continuing their ‘argument’ even as she walked backwards so she could face him, “It’s not his fault that those two pendejos fucked up a nearly perfect story line!” 

Angel rolled his eyes, “Whatever, suffer through it if you want. I’m just gonna wait a few years for the reboot.” He grabbed at her hip to pull her away from two women she almost backed into as they made their way in the opposite direction. “Con permiso.” 

“Sorry!” Katarina giggled as she let Angel turn her around to walk properly down the sidewalk. She felt the women stare at them as they continued on. She figured they made quite the pair walking out of a burger joint downtown. Angel in his dark jeans, sleeveless shirt and Mayans kutte and she in flip flops, cutoffs and a Bob Marshal Band t-shirt

By the time the women averted their prying eyes Katarina and Angel had made it back to where she had parked her truck, his bike backed up to the curb in front of it. She had been smiling nonstop since they had met for dinner and only now did it waver. She knew what was coming. It came every time one of their dates came to its conclusion.

Sure enough, Angel caught her by the front pocket of her shorts and gave her a tug, “Let me give you a ride home.” His hands settled on her waist, “We can come back for your truck in the morning.” 

Katarina half hummed, half groaned, and rocked back and forth, “Angel…” 

He sucked his teeth at the tell tale way she had drawn out his name. He loosened his grip on her and moved to lean against the seat of his bike. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me all that much.” 

She reclaimed the space he’d put between them and gave his shoulders a shove. “You know it’s not that.” 

His face went into full force, whiny puppy dog as he pulled her closer. He was looking up at her for a change. A change in the dynamic he hoped might help his cause. “Then what is it?” He pouted at her as she rested her hands on his shoulders. “Worried Mommy and Daddy won’t approve?” He makes an obvious gesture to himself and his bike. 

“Shut up.” instead of taking his bait, she leans down to kiss him. Not a quick little kiss like they’d shared when she had stepped out of her truck earlier, ready for their date. This kiss was the long, slow, intentional kind where she moved her hands to the sides of his neck and held him tight while he did the same with the back of her thighs. Applying a perfect amount of pressure to anchor him to her and vice versa. 

When she pulled away, a mere inch of space, his eyes were still closed and he wore a knowing, begrudging, but content smirk. “If you’re trying to distract me it’s working.” 

Katarina chuckled, “Good.” Dragging her nails back and forth through the short hair at the base of his skull, something she had already discovered he loved, she gave him another shorter kiss. “Can I text you in the morning?” 

Angel looked surprised; she even felt she had to ask, “Of course you can cutie.” 

She smiled and left him with one more quick kiss before she walked around his bike to climb into her truck and head home.

~~~

The next morning Angel didn’t even wait for her to text him, he sent the first message: If you won’t let me come to your place would you at least come to the clubhouse with me tonight?

She texts back immediately: Do you really want me to?

His response is just as fast: Of course I do querida.

Compared to the others, her next text took what seemed like an eternity to reach his phone. 

But her response was worth the wait: I would like that very much.

~~~

Chapter Three - Read it here!

[haikyooot]

Waiiit, that aside I have a question. emii what did you like abt kourai? Sorry if u have explained it somewhere. Im just asking myself the same question and im curious abt you... no pressure to answer tho ✌

*manga spoilers*

cw: brief mention of depression, self-harm

I think it's so fascinating how Kourai might, at first, totally be a comical character that is there for laughs but suddenly grow onto you in a really really heartfelt way. But in short, he motivates me to be the best version of me I can be.

Keep reading at your discretion, it's half not-a-sob, personal rant, with mixed love letters to the seagull.

He's not just "another foil to Hinata" their journeys are really different. Their personalities and the way they deal with challenges are different too. It's funny, I'm usually never into a character who's "younger brother" because I'm the eldest daughter LMAO. But I do have an older cousin I was constantly compared to, and he would indirectly belittle me growing up. Maybe I felt Hoshiumi in that way.

I have very tiny hands and the first hobby I picked up as a kid was piano. My hands stopped growing since like second or third grade, and soon a lot of piano pieces I wanted to play were just difficult. Ironically, the pieces I loved playing the most "required" very large hands. Maybe it was a pride thing. I just wanted to play them.

I remember wishing every birthday that I would be taller, grow a bit more. That never happened either, and height has always been a source of insecurity and pain.

And other people would look at me, my hands, and tiny feet and sometimes really see me as someone to be taken care of. Some mean well, others actually maliciously, but regardless my own stubbornness ah. My pride and stubbornness. So, to prove myself to myself and to others, I carried over a quarter my body weight on my back and solo-traveled. I climbed mountains alone because I can. And I can do all sorts of stuff around the house fixing things, making things, I can do it, don't look down on me. It makes me proud of myself too. Ultimately, it became about me and myself. I think Hoshiumi and volleyball is also ultimately about him and himself.

I suppose what I mean to say with those anecdotes is that Hoshiumi's growth and success reminded me of my own growth journey. There's a few other hq characters too, but let's focus on the birb.

Relatability aside....

He's SUCH a good friend. So observant and caring. He recognized and stopped Sachirou from hurting himself, valuing the well-being of his friend first. He's just full of love and care, I know it. Because I bet when he's feeling down, he punished himself enough. Just how much bravery and will does it take to continue, to keep going, and fighting the way he does? I just want to hug him and be hugged by him.

The whole, "no one will die" speech? Much needed reality check really. I would be so so caught up with every test, every grade I got until I absolutely burned out. It was such a horrible and painful part of my uni life. But Hoshiumi's line reminded me really, also what my professor and therapist had told me too....you know in the long run, it's all gonna really be okay. And as long as I continue moving forward, other opportunities open up too. The way I'm fixated on and so obsessed with isn't the only way. And if it's causing me pain, maybe it's not the best way at all, because I should put my wellbeing first.

But Hoshiumi also isn't just "ah just quit it all". He's so well balanced between finding the balance of self-care and hard work...[not a birb, but I think i love Kita because of this too]

Hoshiumi's hard work. Have you seen in the lingering background, how Hoshiumi was described as being on the bench? He's also seen doing ballboy tasks too. So, the Hoshiumi we see on the court is relatively new. In those circumstances, he still got picked to be U-19 is so so incredible and proof of his hard work and talent.

I know he has these comical and even petty af competition with Hinata, but laughs aside, Hoshiumi didn't see Hinata as someone coming after his title as short king. When he told Hinata, "I'll be waiting for you". It was telling Hinata that he'll be waiting for him to return. Hoshiumi believes in Hinata to become pro, to be a part of a whole new beginning of 'shorter' players in volleyball. Either way, between the two of them, it's a win. And I really respect and admire him for that. (Actually) Humble birdie.

You see how friendly and happy he is with some of the kids in timeskip and you just know that after maturing a bit too, how easy-going he is actually. Esp after mellowing out just a tad. He loves what he does, does his best, he's thankful for where he's at. I imagine him as someone who gives the best advice and encouragements, but also won't shy away from giving a reality-check when needed, only as a push forward.

And finally I'm a visual person. Look how cute baby hoshiumi is. Look how eccentric teen Hoshiumi is. Look how how dilfy timeskip Hoshiumi is. He probably slightly cringes at his teen, badminton shuttlecock hair that he thought looked super cool hahaha. He has my heart.

But anyways, in short, he motivates me to be the best version of me I can be.

[clonewarslover55]

Jango Fett X Fem!Reader //SMUT//

One of my best friends requested some good ol’ Jango smut. Find my buddy at @peacelandbread @cptn-suede and @aepes-saga  They’re amazing! Go check them out!

Notes: This is back when Jango Fett is young and horny lol 

Warnings: Language, !!SMUT!! Sexual Tension !!Unprotected sex!! Please be safe!! Drunk people at a bar being gross, Jango Fett respects women, !!Jango Fett has a breeding kink!!

*Some run down cantina on some shitty refueling station.* 

You had been working on a very long job with the infamous Jango Fett, not really by choice. You knew Jango because you worked solo under him sometimes, but this time he needed your help. You sat beside the armored Mandalorian in the shitty bar while Slave I was being refueled and resupplied. 

His helmet sat on the bar beside him as he slowly nursed his glass of some sort of dark alcohol. You sipped your drink, a little distracted by the bounty hunters handsome face. Both of you were very stressed out. Mainly because you were both used to working solo, so the tension was very noticeable. But, there was another sort of tension that was between you two. 

The sexual tension could be cut with a knife, it was so bad. You both found each other extremely attractive, especially after fighting beside one another. You had always found Jango attractive just but his gruff thick voice, but when you saw his face you nearly died. He was incredibly handsome, and it killed you. 

You rubbed your thighs together as you zoned out thinking about the Mandalorian, especially thinking about what he looked like underneath his armor. He looked at you, “Hey.” You blinked and flushed slightly, “The ship is done.” He stood up and pulled on his helmet, you nodded and stood as well. 

As you followed Jango out of the bar a drunk patron slapped your ass hard, causing you to yelp and snarl at him. Jango saw red and immediately grabbed the drunken man by the throat, “Did you just touch this lady without her consent?” The drunken man nodded, gasping for air. He clawed at Jango’s gloved hand as Jango tightened his grip, “Apologize to her. Now.” 

The guy managed to wheeze out a weak ‘sorry’ before Jango slammed him through the nearest table. He flicked a credit chip at the bartender before grabbing your hand and dragging you out. What he just did was extremely hot, it caused heat to gather between your thighs. “Impressive.” You smirked as he weaved through people, not letting go of his hand, “Shut up.” You laughed and followed him onto Slave I. 

The sexual tension increased throughout the job. You each kept doing things to get the other worked up. The stupid games began to get old quickly, mainly because Jango was getting tired of you talking. He worked alone for a reason, he didn’t like being distracted. Especially by hot women that tested his patience. 

*Some backwater world in the Outer Rim.* 

Jango threw down the target in one of the holding cells he had in Slave I. You dropped the dead body of the other target in the middle of the storage hold, “I can’t fucking beileve you!” He snarled as he went up the ladder to the cockpit. You scoffed and followed, “You can’t believe me?! You’re the one that killed him!!” 

Jango angrily flicked controls to get the ship moving, “Because you got distracted! You let him fucking tackle you! You almost died!!” You stood in front of him and snarled, “Why didn’t you just let me die huh?” Jango removed his helmet, an angry look on his handsome face. “You know I can’t let that happen.” 

You crossed your arms and got in his face, “Why not?” You sneered. He quickly grabbed the back of your neck with one hand and pulled you into a fierce kiss. You didn’t kiss him back at first out of shock, but you eventually began kissing him back. 

You pushed his hard armored body into the pilots seat and you straddled him, not breaking the kiss. Jango’s lips were chapped and rough, but they were amazing to kiss. Jango tasted like the smoke and sweet forest air. You did as well, but neither of you minded at all. You gripped his soft hair with one hand, and kept your balance with the other resting on his cold chest plate. You pressed your body tightly against his armored one as your warm tongue flicked and played with his. 

Jango moaned softly when you gripped his hair tighter, causing more wetness to flood your core. It was the sexiest noise you had ever heard. You nipped his bottom lip slightly and pulled back as you sat back to catch your breath. He licked his lip once you let it go. His deep brown eyes were those of a predator, they were dark and hungry. 

Jango kissed along your neck, his hot soft lips making you melt. “Jango.” you sighed. He smirked up at you, “Come on darlin’ let’s take this to the bedroom.” Your already flushed skin got even hotter at the nickname. He wrapped your legs tightly around his armored waist as he moved to his quarters. 

He sat you down, letting you go down the ladder first. You stopped halfway down the ladder and went through the door to his quarters, Jango quickly followed. He hugged you from behind once you were both in his bedroom. His hot lips attacked your neck again, causing you to let out a soft moan. He grazed his teeth along your throat and softly nipped at your neck. 

He gripped your hips tight enough to leave bruises, “You’re a very big tease.” He kissed the soft spot behind your ear. His gruff voice grew even sexier as it got darker with desire. Jango softly bit your earlobe, “Strip.” It was a dark command, that made cold shocks of desire race down your spine. 

You turned around and stepped back from the Mandalorian some. You smirked as you slowly began to strip your clothes off. You made sure to take as long as you could, just to frustrate Jango more. Once you were finally bare Jango walked to you, a predatory look in his eyes. 

He gripped your hips and pulled you into a heated kiss, his lips moving quickly against yours. “Remove my armor so I can fuck your beautiful body already.” He nearly growled the command out. You quickly began unbuckling and unstrapping the many pieces of armor he had on. Both of you are already incredibly impatient. 

You kneeled down to unstrap his codpiece and thigh plates. You smirked up at him and winked, causing Jango to huff out a laugh and grip a hand into your hair. You had checked out Jango so many times, you memorized everything you could about his armor. You knew how to remove it quickly, only because you watched him too much. 

When you removed his codpiece you somehow grew even wetter. He was straining hard against his grey undersuit, letting you see just how huge he was. You teasingly placed a feather light kiss against his hard cock before you stood up. Jango growled a little and you giggled at how worked up you were getting him. 

You kissed along his dark scarred neck as you removed his padded undersuit. Jango watched your quick fingers move against the buttons and straps of the undersuit. His chest was heaving by the time you managed to yank his layers above his head. You moaned and ran your fingers along his muscular chest and stomach. 

Jango groaned when you began kissing some scars that were on his shoulders and chest. You smirked against his skin and quickly grabbed the zipper of his pants, unzipping them. His hard cock sprang forward and you stared at it, “Fuck.” You mumbled, causing Jango to chuckle.

Jango’s whole body was extremely impressive, but his cock was something else. His cock was long and thick, the girth of it should’ve made you nervous but you were so wet that it didn’t matter. Jango quickly kicked his pants off and kissed you fiercely, backing you up towards the small bed. 

The kiss was a sloppy mess of teeth and tongues, but neither of you cared. He pushed you down onto the bed and quickly crawled on top of you, so he could kiss you again. You both found each other's taste addicting, and it was maddening. He grabbed your thighs and hoisted them around his muscular dark waist. 

He got comfortable between your thighs, the head of his cock brushing your wet lips enough to make you groan in impatience. He pulled away from your kiss, “Are you sure about this?” His gruff voice was nearly a whisper, his lips a breath away from yours. “Fuck yeah I’m sure. Now fuck me Jango.” He growled at your command and began to leave love bites along your throat. He felt your pulse racing underneath his swollen lips and he smirked. 

One hand kept himself up above you, and you stared at it. His muscles strained, causing some veins to pop out. He was truly a perfect sight. “You’re soaking.” He growled as he ran two fingers along your folds. You threw your head back and whined, “Because you keep teasing!” Jango smirked and kissed you heatedly, his swollen lips fitting against yours perfectly. 

Jango slowly pushed the head of his thick cock into you, causing you to gasp. He felt bigger than he looked. You gripped his muscular shoulders tightly as he slowly slid into you, the stretch still burning. Jango softly kissed your eyes, mouth, nose and anywhere else he could reach as he let you adjust to his size. Your eyes were screwed shut as you slowly adjusted to his size. 

You nodded once you adjusted to him. He slowly began rocking his hips, his cock fitting perfectly inside of your cunt. “Look at you taking my cock so well.” He growled as he kissed along your breasts. “Such a perfect little pussy.” He smirked and teased your breasts more.

He moaned as you gripped his shoulders tighter. Jango began to pick up the pace, his thrusts deep and calculated. You threw your head back as he sucked on one of your nipples and played with the other, “Fuck Jango! You feel so good baby!” 

You felt his cock twitch when you called out his name. Jango pulled away from your breasts to kiss at your lips hungrily, “You’re so tight.” He groaned, “I can’t wait to fill you up with my cum.” He bit your pulse point gently. 

You threw your head back and shouted his name like a prayer as he began to thrust faster. He angled his hips perfectly so he hit the special spot inside you. “Fuck!” You closed your eyes tightly, the pleasure too much to keep them open. 

Jango watched you with dark eyes, as he fucked your tight cunt even harder. “Jango! I’m close! I need your cum inside me so badly! Please cum inside me!” Your begging nearly threw him over the edge, “Don’t worry darlin’.” He purred in your ear, “I’ll fill you up real nice.” 

Your cunt gripped him like a vice, causing him to completely forget everything except the softness of your body, the warmth of your cunt, and the taste of your lips. Your cunt tightened even more as you came, his name leaving your lips like a prayer. Jango buried his face into your neck as he came deep inside of you. 

His heated moans were erotic as he shot his hot thick ropes of cum inside of you. He thrusted weakly until he was completely spent. Jango collapsed on top of you panting heavily, his sweaty face resting in the crook of your neck. 

You both just layed there, catching your breaths. You ran a hand through his sweaty hair and he looked up at you, a smirk on his handsome face. You smirked back at him, excited to see what this eventful night would lead to.