#and it was just too much. like all i want is for people to criticize jkr for legitimate reasons instead of smearing her name
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thousandyearphantombunker · 2 hours ago
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If you want to fight for representation maybe don't fucking antagonize artists/writers who fight for it because "it's not good enough!"
Entitled people with ridiculous bullshit expectations like this hold back representation so much
Like I could throw all that criticism toward Legend Of Korra and Steven Universe back at TOH and other shows like it when it comes to disabled representation- "its only coding! It's not outright stated! Eda's curse turns her into a monster! Wahhh" I've stated I don't like how TOH handled disability but I'm so happy it exists because hopefully we'll open up more story telling that explores disability through the perspective of disabled characters themselves rather than a bunch of able bodied neurotypical people writing/regurgitating the same inspiration porn bullshit
I'm not saying we can't criticize these shows (SU and LoK have issues that deserve to be discussed) but creators working on them fought so hard just to get moments like Korra and Asami getting together, for the first lesbian wedding on a children's show. New shows get to flex that they have these characters because other shows like Legend of Korra punched through barriers to give them space- they didn't have space so they made some! You can criticize SU and LoK like I said- SU has serious issues with Filler and some botched ass morals and LoK could be shallow in some parts but if you try and flex on them because new shows have an easier time with gay representation your a fucking idiot- your new shows wouldn't exist without these ones
But no. It's never blunt/explicit enough, it's too problematic because xyz', it's not representing every single facet of our experiences so it must be bad.
Also the gems being nonbinary/genderless just adds another layer to LGBT representation
Are y'all gonna attack TOH because Raine is nonbinary and their relationship with Eda "doesn't count"
I'm done being polite. You can criticize rep and call out harmful things in fiction without erasing the importance of these stories
Steven Universe: Eh, I don't really feel like saying "girlfriend" or "wife". Maybe they're together. They have a special connection...
(gets violently shoved aside)
The Loud House/Craig of the Creek/The Owl House: Pfft, amateur. "My GIRLFRIEND Sam and I..." "I'm texting my GIRLFRIEND, mind your business." "Luz's new GF showed her..."
#The owl house#loud house#legend of korra#craig of the creek#Steven Universe#With RWBY I love the bees but I admit the ship has issues#But I won't erase it's importance#Especially considering RWBY for all its flaws helped me as a young lesbian#Same goes for the Legion Of Superheroes cartoon#And My Little Pony#I don't criticize the rep in LoSH because it was the best they could do- and I treat SU and LoK the same#I feel lame admitting that these shows helped me#As an autistic person with a family that has dealt with illnesses from lupus to schizophrenia and profound/functional intellectual disabi#-lities I have gripes with TOH#But I also acknowledge it's importance and I don't think it's all bad- I just wish certain things in the show were handled more sensitively#I'm so done being nice when defending these shows#I'm not gonna get mad at LoK for not being perfect with Korrasami because it was the best they could do#Do you not realize how hard it was back then#I'm only 21 but my sister (who is bi) remembers a time before gay marriage and crazy evangelical nonsense because she's older#She doesn't like SU and even she said complaints like this were bull- because the shows people make this complaint about stood against odds#They won. It was hard and it was messy but they won even though they didn't have a horse in the race so you can forgive them for having a-#Few bruises and not being in first place#You have a horse in the race- your still at a disadvantage yes but you have a better chance#Gay#lgbtqia#I'm so done#representation is representation#Unless it's actually super harmful (like how she-hulk represents mental illness) or baiting (like lightyear) then you take it and learn to-#Do better if there was a problem#People are so entitled
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marsmaximoff · 2 days ago
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🏛️ emperor caracalla ; headcanons ⋆₊𐕣˚𖤐 ݁。☽
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content warning: fem!reader. mentions of blood, killing and sickness, cheating, possessiveness, toxicity. idk if there’s anything else.
word count: 0.7k
author’s note: first time writing headcanons, so constructive criticism is welcomed. and english is my third language so please bear with me. i apologize for any mistake 🙏🏻 also, i’m unlocking a new obsession, so i needed to write for caracalla asap. i’m gonna write for other fred characters too because that man has me down bad. that’s it! enjoyyy! <3
emperor caracalla is a menace with an insane duality and you know that better than anyone
we have 1) mad ruler with an insatiable thirst for blood
you ALWAYS go to the games
he demands wants you there with him
(not like you have much choice being married to him)
but still, he loves to know you’re there. mostly because he actually enjoys sharing his passion and spending time with you. buuut, also because he REALLY likes to show you off. (you love seeing him all giggly clapping and yelling tho)
and let me tell you, he takes every opportunity to do so. to remind everyone that you’re his. and to brag in front of his pretty much unmarried brother.
i’m talking hand rubbing your thigh when sitting by his side (he does it absentmindedly, it’s genuinely cute), arm around your waist during feasts, sitting on his lap when watching combats, theatre or any sort of entertainment and a ton of PDA.
both of them are possessive, but he is more subtle, not as straightforward
regarding Geta, you two have an… odd relationship. he’s thankful there’s someone else to deal with his brother’s madness. but he’s suspicious of your intentions. tho jealous.
some would even say not only of the marriage itself…
caracalla knows, and absolutely feeds on it. he finally has something that belongs to him and only him
god forbid someone doesn’t get it
Dondus has grown to adore you. you’re like his other parent -he’s adopted you as such.
squeaks at you and happily climbs your arm to rest on your shoulder
loves using your braids as little ladders
and snuggling against your neck too
he’s just so cute can u tell i love him :3
anyways
and 2) sappy child
he follows you around like a puppy
you hate it when he gets overwhelmed, he tends to hide and isolate himself
you end up acting like his mother
gets insecure of his real face and keeps it from you
needs a lot of reassurance
the guards always look for you when he has an outburst
your touch and presence are the only things that ground him
LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling
clings to you like he needs you to breathe
good luck waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom 💀
play with his hair and he’s GONE
big on pet names
to you is always “my love” “my dear” “my darling” “my wife” “my empress”
emphasis on the “my”
everything’s fine with him but ��sweet boy” makes him melt
and obviously “my emperor” cause it makes him feel powerful
and compliments too
spoils and pampers the shit out of you
jewels, clothes, animals, entertainers, you name it
absolutely whipped
loves kissing
now, it can’t all be a fairytale 😞
sometimes you feel like he loves Dondus more than you
and it seems that some men being forced to kill each other brings him more happiness than you ever could
he can switch from sad to angry in a matter of seconds and sometimes his sudden change of tone and expressions startles you
🚩 🚩🚩
being married to a sick man is hard
many palace servants and guards feel bad for you
paranoid
thinks you don’t love him anymore and are going to leave him quite often
obsessive
if you say something that feels ‘off’ to him get ready for an intense interrogation
possessive and extremely jealous
cause why the fuck where you laughing with some random man?
he’d threaten to kill him and would probably get rough with you
hates other people touching you
gets violent
has hurt you before during one of his fits
regrets it afterwards but has a hard time apologizing
would probably be unfaithful. i know, i hate it too 🥲
over all i think he wouldn’t be that bad of a husband, like it could be way worse
and i say he could genuinely love you, it just wouldn’t be the healthiest of loves
but you can try to fix him girl ✨✨
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myceliacrochet · 3 days ago
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URGENT: 4yo Little Girl and Her Family Malnutritioned and Freezing!! (Sham and Moneer al-Anqar -- Skills Series: "Easy Piece First")
Reblog if u answer pls tysm!🩷
There's no shame in that! In this series, I'll be sharing some tips to help us keep going strong, carrying these families throughout this brutal winter of extermination. With each post I'll be highlighting a family in desperate need.
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Easy Piece First
Whether we're working at a job, making commissions, working on posts, or doing other tasks, mutual aid for genocide relief can be overwhelming. The stakes are through the roof, and sometimes the people who most want to help are the people least able to. Often I freeze in place, overwhelmed with emotion, unsure of where to start. Depression, anxiety, and AuDHD don't help!
So I hope this skill is of use to you. I call it "Easy Piece First" because that's what helps me remember it, but it's definitely not a new idea.
I started this post with the easiest small step accessible. For me, that was writing down Moneer's current blog tag (@sham-moner) in a new post. This was the easiest for me because it required no decision-making and could be done in a few seconds. Then I filled in the other parts that don't take much thought -- the GoFundMe link, the vetting, and some tags.
For other posts, sometimes I'll be making art that is unrelated and then I'll think of a post to go with it.
Lazy and Heartless, or Focused and Strategic?
Everyone is different, but trying to force yourself to start with the hardest part first (what some people call the "Eat That Frog" approach) can actually make things take longer for some people. Using "Easy Piece First," I was able to get more done with my time, and with less trouble. This makes my efforts more sustainable long-term.
On a related note, I actually take a lot of measures to not walk around with my chest constantly hurting for Palestinians anymore (though there's nothing wrong with doing so). My chest was aching at all times for months until I converted some of my worry into action and some of it into self-care -- so I could actually get more done for Palestinians, who do not need my tears but my labor.
This winter is a marathon, and we gotta see it through to the end.
Take care of yourself so you can get more done and keep helping people long-term.
Do not give yourself a heart condition.
Give Palestinians labor.
That's how I'm keeping myself out of the hospital and maximizing what I can do for people, but we all have our own strategies.
But that's enough about us -- let's talk about these two amazing kids.
Moneer and Sham
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Palestinians are just regular people. That's the horrible reality. It's the exact same as if people from your own background, even your own family were getting tortured and killed.
Like, Moneer is a 19yo who had recently started university when the genocide began. Sham is 4, Mohammed is 16, Rana is 21, and Rasha is 22.
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What were you going through when you were 4? How would you have felt if you saw people getting blown up at that age? What if your house was blown up and all your toys and friends were lost, and you had to live outside in the winter, scrounging for moldy bread and polluted water?
What if you lived with the smell of rotting bodies when you were 4? Did you know what that smelled like as a little kid? I still don't know what that smells like. I didn't really know what death was at that age. She does.
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This small child is in critical need of food and water!!
She is starving!!
Sham will die this winter without more donations!!
This is a call to action for an extremely urgent campaign!!!
It's been 2 days, and it was 2 days before that! This is far too long!!
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Moneer is still recovering from major surgery. He is in a lot of pain and is also malnutritioned and in need of clean water and warmth.
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Moneer is very close to his family and dearly loves his mom, Amani (39). Amani is in a lot of danger because she has asthma in a dusty massacre zone without treatment. It's killing Moneer to watch his mom go through this.
Drink some water, take a rest, and keep putting one foot in front of the other, using whatever tools work for you.
We are not letting these kids and their family die this winter!! We can do this!!
Vetting: GazaVetters #8
@opencommunion @beserkerjewel @deepspaceboytoy @rhubarbspring @eryuditely @lesbianmaxevans @malcriada @turian @sxpph0 @rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @neptunerings @dykesbat @halalgirlmeg @userpeggycarter @minosbull @hamstertross @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog @definitelynotafox @kaleschmidt @jaylung101 @captainsaltymuyfancy2 @timetravellingkitty @sun-and-moon-side @kahin @greenmossyrock @northgazaupdates2 @irhabiya @theparanoid @steep1253o @victoriawhimsey @dirhwangdaseul @cruzwalters @ladycelebrianofimladris @tamamita @50seagullsinatrenchcoat @deathlonging @nconiku @briarhips @kaislittlecorner @mahoushojoe @sar-soor @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @sawasawako @feluka @anneemay-blog @ralfocups
P.S.: I have several people waiting on me for posts. I am so sorry -- I will get them finished and published as soon as possible.
@soft-sunbird Thank you dear friend🥰🩷 I love you. You're doing so great
Check out the comments for many ways to help!
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libraford · 2 days ago
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Misty Copeland, my beloved.
I can't even say that 'appreciation' is the word, at least in the case of bellydance. It's just what happens when a culture touches another. Because 'bellydance' itself is a very broad term that encompasses a variety of dance styles that may have no verifiable country of origin.
Correct me of I'm wrong, of course!
Under a cut because apparently I'm infodumping on dance history.
The best we have as an origin people are the Ghawazee, and today's style looks very little like their practice (which is still taught by it's sole remaining member). But the people traveled before settling in Egypt, so a clear origin is difficult to pinpoint. And you do hear claims that bellydance is Egyptian, and while it's not untrue, it's not the entire story- Ghawazee spent some time in Egypt and the style stuck around to have a stylistic exchange. And a lot of the old Hollywood depictions of bellydance are something between this cultural fusion and awalim. All of these styles, and so many more of that region, informed each other and inspired each other as trade routes between countries became more common, and the Ottoman Empire brought it northward as far as modern day Austria.
And the dance style has been criticized pretty much everywhere it goes. Like our earliest footage of the dance was as a Victorian sideshow that was considered by the primarily white male audience to be vulgar. But as Egyptian film made this style more easily accessed, fondness for it grew, and we enter Golden Age of Bellydance- which was not always not the most culturally sensitive depiction, but it gave a lot of dancers a chance to show their skills to a wider audience- and now women want to learn it too! Teachers pop up everywhere, even though it's still considered a little risque in many cultures.
Bellydance was being seen all over the world because of cinema, even if inaccurate so. And there was a fascination with Egypt that made it the center of attention for a lot of film. There were tons of middle eastern dance clubs, though they were, again, kind of a fantasy version of it.
And then it got hairy.
Iranian Revolution in 1979 put a lot of restrictions on dance. If you were a dance teacher affected by this, your choices were either stop dancing or immigrate to a country where you'd be allowed to teach. So you see a huge boom in the 80s of Egyptian Cabaret styles taking root in the US because the interest in Egyptian culture made it easy to set up shop.
So most of what you're seeing today in modern stage styles is either second or third generation of Egyptian Cabaret style through several layers of translation, which in itself is deep in layers of translation, applied to the melting pot of America and then to the exposure of film, TV, music video, YouTube, Instagram, and then finally TikTok.
And that's fucking fascinating! The cultural exchange that had to happen for us to get that half-beat Turkish drop is high key cool af, just to think about all of the steps we had to go through to get here. It is an ever-evolving discipline of dance, and the fact that Shining Protector is still teaching the old ways of her people to keep traditions alive is AMAZING!
We should want this. And I don't know how to explain to people that sometimes the watered-down white people spicy version is the gateway drug to taking an active interest in a different culture.
When one culture comes in contact with another and the peoples share the things that enrich their lives, that is cultural exchange. But I think it's hard for some people to see any interaction with a white culture as neutral-positive. And it's somewhat difficult to explain the difference.
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aggieharkness · 2 days ago
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Have i earned it, mother? Chp. 3
Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader
Summary: You had never thought you would get to have a date with Avis, much less that it would be on New Year's Eve. No matter if it wasn't entirely perfect it would still be wonderful because she was with you and you were with her.
Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), tit play. Romance, fluff, confessions, lingerie... I don't know what else needs to be added.
Authors note: Merry Christmas!!! It has taken me a bit longer than anticipated to finish this, but it's fucking long and my poor little neuron has been working overtime, still I hope you like this new chapter. The song that plays in the car is "Time after time" by Frank Sinatra and the ones from the restaurant are from the album "Love me the way I love you" by Jerry Vale. Please, do tell me if I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something... you know I accept constructive criticism. If you want more, tell me. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.
This is my Christmas gift to you all, so I hope you like it!! 😊🎄 Thanks to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader, you are a God send. Also shoutout to those who didn't make it, I still appreciate you @dont-blame-me-she-made-me-crazy @4theluvofsapphos @celestemoon-9 @renafisher27
Chp. 1 Chp. 2
Word count: 26K (I'm very sorry but also not that sorry. I am aware that it's long as fuck.)
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You made me love you
The music from your old record player echoed throughout the house, bouncing off the walls and into every room of your tiny apartment. With no neighbours around you, there was no issue with the volume, or with the way you banged the doors of your wardrobe as you fretted around your bedroom. Swaying to the beat of the trumpet, your body glided barefoot from the bathroom over to the bed, your sweet voice harmonizing with Fats Waller’s vocals as he sang “Ain’t Misbehavin’”, your hair curled, brushed, and pinned on the back of your head. Tonight was special and you wanted to look and feel as glamorous as all those girls at the studio that would be going to private or big parties, even if your plans were much simpler. With a beautiful deep black lace strapless corselette hooked around your figure and a pair of nude stockings secured by the clips that hung from the garment hugging your frame you stood observing two dresses. They had both cost you a fortune but thanks to Avis’s raise in your salary you had not had to ask the cashier if you could pay for them in three different transactions, you had just wiped out the cash and paid them in full. You had felt so rich, even if it had been just for a moment. Observing the gown on the left you took in the off-shoulder shape of the top, the tight draped bodice and the lightly ruffled and puffed skirt, a beautiful translucent lilac tulle around it complimenting the darker purple shade of the dress itself.
 It was more of a ballgown than anything else and you had nowhere to wear it, but it had been too beautiful, and back at the store you had thought that one Christmas gift to yourself wasn’t so bad, not when you hadn’t bought yourself something just for the fun of it in years. Moving onto the gown on the right you felt a smile creep up on your lips. It really was smashing, strapless, with a tight bodice and skirt that would certainly hug every single curve in your body, a slit on the right side that reached about mid-thigh. Touching the fabric with your fingertips you could not help the shiver of happiness you felt at the feeling of the midnight blue velvet. It had to be this one, since the first instants you had laid eyes on it, on that faceless mannequin back at the boutique, you had known it would be the dress you would wear to take Avis out on New Years Eve. Without giving it another thought you opened the back zipper and pulled it over your legs, around your hips until it finally covered your body, your arms and hands battling to get hold of the zipper to close it up. After a two-minute struggle that included jumping senselessly around your bedroom, you finally managed to zip it, smoothing the fabric and rushing to look at your reflection in the mirror. You could knock anyone’s socks off with the way your breasts practically spilled out and your leg peeked out from under the sea of velvet.
Giving your back to the mirror, in your tiny room where there wasn’t a place for a vanity, makeup pilled on your nightstand and over the bathroom sink, you made your way to the jewellery box that laid open over the covers of your bed, hands rummaging among the few pieces you owned. There was a pair of pearl earrings that you were not going to wear, Avis was a pearl sort of gal and you didn’t want to clash with her, two pairs of golden rings, a matching necklace, and a lovely sapphire set that you had been given years ago by a an aunt that you could not remember anymore but that your parents had said did questionable things for a living. Who didn’t at the end of the day? That set matched your outfit perfectly, the golden chain that wrapped along a string of rounded sapphires and crystals feeling terribly cold as you placed it over your collarbone, clasping it in the back. The earrings were small and didn’t seem to be heavy as you put them on, the final piece left being a simple ring that you slid on the middle finger of your right hand; somehow it didn’t feel right to place it on either of your ring fingers. The last touch that you needed to complete it all was your shoes, that you searched for all over the room, panicking for a second when you couldn’t find the box before taking a relieved breath, hand on your chest, as they had been under the bed. You must have accidentally kicked them while jumping to get the dress on. In that box, wrapped in a beautiful silk tissue, in all their glory, were a pair of black Balenciaga stilettos that had swallowed the last bits of your salary once all bills and amenities had been paid, of course. They were gorgeous, you were in love with them and once you put them on, fitting your feet like gloves, you took one last look in the mirror, the dark cherry red lipstick shade you wore complimenting the palette beautifully.
Checking the clock that rested on your nightstand, between the bottle of lotion and translucent powder, it read a quarter past ten. To you, it wasn’t that late, but Avis was probably absolutely famished by now, and you still needed to drive for over ten minutes to get to her place. You practically skated from one side of the bedroom to the other, spraying some perfume and grabbing the lipstick from the bathroom before rushing into the hallway, putting keys and other essentials in your purse, and yanking your old coat off the rack. Getting yourself a fancy one would have been pushing it a bit too much. Out of the apartment you stopped midway to the stairs when you realised you had not turned the music off, huffing in frustration and running back to your door, unlocking it and unplugging the record player. Rushing wasn’t going to get you anywhere if you had to come back every five seconds to turn shit off, so you made a leap through your apartment turning off lights and other appliances before locking the front door and heading down into the street. The sky was clear, full of stars that the streetlights would cover up as soon as you began to drive through the main avenues, the temperature cold but thankfully not as freezing as it had been that night, still you took a moment to breath in the crispy air and gaze at the universe above your head. Nature was beautiful every day of the year.
Returning your gaze to the street, right in front of your building was your beautiful burgundy car, waiting, a smile painting your lips. You could still hardly believe Avis had got it for you, sure after three hours of fucking each other at her place and after she had assured you she would, her frame relaxed and utterly satisfied as she signed the check without thinking about it twice and handing it to Mr. Russell, but it still thrilled you to no end. The memory of the both of you walking into the dealership with two completely different outfits, the men glaring and Mr. Russell rushing to greet you both made your smile even bigger, wondering if he had noticed the change of clothes and had simply decided not to mention it.
Unlocking the vehicle, it still thrilled you whenever your fingers touched the leather, that smell of new car lingering alongside Avis’s perfume in every crevice and stitch. It was the perfect combination. With your old one it would have taken you about three tries to get the engine up and running, this one was ready to go on the first try, moving smoothly onto the road and down towards the Amberg residence. When you had suggested to Miss Kincaid during a coffee break the possibility of going to the studio’s New Year’s Eve party, you had been excited, after all, it had taken you a whole morning to finally bring yourself to make the decision. But that little bubble of happiness had been burst upon hearing her say that it would not happen this year, at least not the way it always had been, at Mr. Amberg’s residence with every actor and actress in existence, but mainly with a very drunk Avis trying to be pleasant to all those idiots she had told you a thousand times she didn’t give a shit about. Mr. Samuels was hosting it instead because Mr. Amberg was going to some party at his Gentleman’s Club or something. You hadn’t wanted to press the matter too much as not to draw much attention to yourself and have Miss Kincaid asking questions. The initial disappointment had melted into nothing when you had come across Avis at the studio barely fifteen minutes after your conversation with Miss Kincaid and had blurted out if she wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with you, expecting her to smile politely and decline the offer by saying that she had to attend the party with her husband. Your knickers dropped though, metaphorically that time, when she agreed, sounding almost excited at the prospect of spending time with you and only you. That same evening you had found yourself looking for the perfect outfit in every store you could find, except the really expensive ones, you didn’t fancy the idea of selling a kidney for a dress if you could find a stunning one somewhere cheaper.
Dinners all over Hollywood had ended hours ago, people singing and dancing out in the streets as they headed to bars or private celebrations, drinks in their hands or in flasks deep within their purses and pockets. Your eyes observed it all, the bright lights, the sounds that the New Year was bringing as they mixed with the song playing on the radio. It sounded like Frank Sinatra, perhaps it was a new release or something, either way, it blended quite nicely with the world around you as Sunset Boulevard wrapped its atmosphere around your car. Taking a side street, you drove up a road filled with palm trees on either side before coming to a stop in front of the Ambergs’ gates. You didn’t have to wait this time, the old gentleman had seen you arrive and was already unlocking them, waiving to you excitedly as you drove the vehicle in and parked it on the side. He was wearing a bright red bowtie you noticed as you stepped out of the car, pulling your coat tighter around you, and had tinsel on his uniform hat. You made a mental note to ask him his name the next time you came over, he was far too kind not to engage him in conversation at some point. Locking your car, you flashed him with a genuine smile and an energetic wave before making your way to the front doors and ringing the bell. There was a wave of sounds on the other side, Gertie’s muffled voice saying that there was someone at the door, almost as if it was a code, and Avis’s panicked voice answering with something you did not quite catch. A few moments later the doors creaked open, the maid showing you into the entrance hallway, your eyes noticing that she was wearing a pretty dress instead of her usual uniform, a touch of rouge and lipstick on her face that suited her quite well.
-She will be right down miss. Would you like a drink while you wait?
-Oh, I’m fine, no need to go to all that trouble Gertie. You look very fancy, going somewhere?
-Welcoming the year with some of the ladies of my Bridge Club, miss.
-Well, I hope you have fun. I know I will.
She chuckled at the comment but didn’t say anything else, simply smiled knowingly before heading for the kitchen. Before you could begin to observe the room around you the sound of someone clearing their throat made you whip your head towards the stairs. You choked on the air you were breathing, sputtering quietly for a second. Holy shit. Angels could not shine brighter nor be more beautiful than the image your eyes were taking in.
The sight at the top of the stairs was right out of a fantasy novel where ethereal beings walked among simple mortals, mixed with those movies that captivated your heart with all the romance and glamour. Waves of red cascaded over her shoulders and framed her perfect face with such volume and shine that not even Rita Hayworth would be able to make your eyes stray. Those gorgeous deep brown eyes staring back at you through thick black eyelashes that seemed to be longer and more sensual tonight, her magnificent cheekbones adorned in gentle hues of pink and peach rouge. You could not help it, your eyes travelled down to her mouth, her usual shade of Victory Red perfectly applied. They seemed fuller and plumper tonight, sending a shiver of desire down your spine. Her long neck and enticing collarbones were exposed by a plunging square neckline that defined the top of her breasts exquisitely, her arms wrapped in translucent satin the same shade as her dress, an absolutely pristine white. Her curves, as hypnotising as river bends, were hidden under gentle drapes of silk that met at her waist, her legs peeking through the skirt as if folded on the side of her body, her hand holding the fabric to make sure you would be able to see the nude stockings that she was wearing underneath, her right foot resting on the edge of the first stair. Your eyes racked and ate at her long shapely leg, tongue running over your lips, her dainty feet dressed in matching pristine white heels that peeked from under the hem of her gown.
Avis was beautiful every day of the week, every second of every minute all year long, but the Avis that stood at the top of the stairs was a vision so divine, so sublime in every single aspect that you had to put your hand on the doorframe, your knees having grown weak. Licking her neck with your eyes you were glad you had forgone the pearl earrings, as she was wearing her own pair, much more expensive and beautiful than yours, and a matching necklace that rested gently over her collarbone, right under the hollow of her neck. With each breath she took her breasts rose and fell, drawing your body towards her as your eyes went back up to her face, locking with hers. For a moment you tasted chocolate on your palate. She took one step forward letting the skirt fall back into place, walking down the staircase slowly, absolutely delighted in the way your pupils had dilated and practically undressed her while also simply adoring her. Her hips swayed from right to left with each step, her right hand on the railing, tracing the banister with her fingertips. Even in the few feet that still separated you, you could already smell her positively elegant and rich perfume, dizzying your mind as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the moment when she would reach your arms, allowing you to sweep her off her feet. One more step and she stood half a foot above you, your head lulled back slightly to keep on staring. Had you blinked since hearing her? Her index finger traced your jawline until it rested under your chin.
-Hello, dear.
-Hi… Hello.
-You seem a bit flustered. Do you need a glass of water? – she was teasing, of course, her voice low and sultry but sounding delighted to see you, and well, she was not entirely wrong; you were cursing yourself and wished you had asked Gertie for a drink after all, your throat suddenly dry.
-No, no. Just… Wow.
-I take you like it then. I got it tailored and ready for the festivities yesterday.
-It’s beautiful, but it’s you, as a whole, that makes it absolutely extraordinary. – she blushed a deep red at your compliment, her finger moving to toy with your necklace as she dropped her gaze, an embarrassed smile on her red lips. – You’ve even let your hair down.
-That was Gertie’s suggestion. Said that you would appreciate it. – she pushed the perfect waves over her shoulder. The initial idea had been to wear a different updo to her usual ones and call it a day, but that blessed maid of hers had mentioned how the style nowadays was more along the lines of letting the hair free. Avis had thought about it for a moment, wondering if you would actually like it or not. By the way you were practically eating her with your eyes she was glad she had followed Gertie’s suggestion.
-So she knows?
-We fucked for three hours the other day, honey. There was no way in hell I was going to come up with something to cover that up.  Don’t worry, she’s alright with this, us.
-I hope it’s due to the fact that I make you happy and not because you could fire her.
-Fire Gertie? Never, the house would fall apart. She’s simply happy that I’m happy because you make me happy.
-The word happy just lost its entire meaning after repeating it so much. – it took you a moment to build up the courage to touch her as you didn’t want to stain the gorgeous gown; she was a vision in white that you wanted to keep in your mind forever. Your hand went straight to her shoulder, caressing the side of her neck while twirling a lock of her hair. It was so soft, and it smelled like orange blossoms, an aroma you had mentioned you adored as it reminded you of home. She had taken notes. - But it’s okay, I think I can come up with a whole new meaning for it.
-What would it be?
-What I feel when I see you, when I’m with you. – you were enthralled by the way the lock of hair in between your fingers glided effortlessly, speaking in hushed tones while breathing her essence into your lungs, never wanting to stop. - One can be happy about a book or a dish, but what goes through my mind and heart when I lay my eyes on you cannot be simply referred to as happy, one must give the word a brand-new meaning to understand, to express.
-Could you… - her lips were hovering over yours, her right hand resting on the banister while her left one travelled to the back of your neck, but she didn’t take the next step to close the gap between you, she wanted to hear you. -Could you tell me? Make me see what you see?
-The night is young Avis, and I don’t want to spill all my secrets so soon. I promise that I’ll tell you, tonight, but if you need a little bit of help figuring it out on your own, just think about how your heart races when I’m with you, of all the little details you’ve left for me around my office, like little breadcrumbs that take me directly to you. No one has ever left me flowers or a sandwich with a note simply saying “Eat”. You take care of me even when you are not there, so I know you know the true meaning of the word, even if I never told you, even if I carried that secret to my grave. – your voice dropped into a whisper, eyes locked with hers now, your lips nearly touching. - You’ve even made yourself smell like home for me.
Is this how she had felt when she had married Ace? She could not remember her heart ever leaping in her chest at the sight of him, nor her breath hitching in her lungs when he smiled. She might be married to that man, but he made her feel like she was nothing, fuelling only hate and hurt in her heart. Your breath tickled her nose, your hand drawing out goosebumps all over as it continued twirling beneath her ear. Everything about you made her feel alive, not even the boys at the gas station could draw out the pleasure into care; they came, fucked her and left with a hundred dollars in their pocket, but you had come into her life without her having asked and you had stayed out of your own accord. You wanted her in your life as much as she wanted you in hers. None of the things you did to or for her were to earn a promotion or for Avis to connect you with higher ups in the industry like she had had happen with others before, you did all those things for her without expecting anything in return because you wanted to make her happy, as simple as that. Hearing you speak to her with such emotion, your eyes shining with a feeling she had not seen in such a long time drove her chest to constrict under her corselette, the prospect of hearing you say what she wanted you to say making her heart race, her eyes glistening with unexpected tears that your thumb wiped gently as they fell, not wishing to smudge her makeup. No, you are the only one who could make her feel like this, utterly desired and cared for. So loved.
-Why are you crying? Have I said something to upset you?
-No, darling, you haven’t done anything wrong, I’m just… happy.
-Just the way I like you then.
Finally, she pressed her lips onto yours, softly, treading carefully into your space while moving her left arm around your neck fully. It felt like coming home. She did not make an attempt to enter your mouth even when you parted your lips slightly to grant her access, she basked in the feeling of your mouth simply being pressed against hers, the taste of your carmine on her tongue when she traced it. You didn’t need to ask her what she was feeling after your conversation, her lips were giving you enough information with the way she pecked and gently nibbled, pouring everything into the kiss. Parting after a minute to fill both your lungs she pressed her forehead against yours, her soft red curls falling around and over her face, caressing and slightly tickling your cheeks. She gave you a few more pecks before pulling back needing to feel the skin of your face, your warmth, needing to know that this was not a dream and that you were indeed solid and real under the palm of her right hand. There was desire in everything the two of you did, but there were too many things to do tonight, people expecting you both and you had gone to all the trouble to do this for her, so Avis pushed the need to take you upstairs to the back of her head for the time being. Ace had dumped her to go partying with his friends, and probably a hooker or two, thinking she would be moping around the house like a sad drunk housewife, not thinking that Avis was resourceful and had a beautiful lady in her arms who had planned the perfect night. She was dressed to kill, and she would have the best fucking New Year of her life. About to give you another peck, Gertie accidentally broke the spell by crossing the threshold, coming from the kitchen. Both of your heads turned to look at the woman.
-I’m sorry to interrupt Mrs. Amberg, but Miss Kincaid has phoned in quite a state asking if you would be so kind as to go to Mr. Samuel’s house.
-Is she alright? – Avis pecked your cheek before setting foot on the entrance hallway, the silk flowing like water around her body with each step she took towards Gertie, her voice dressed with concern.
-She seemed… worried, perhaps angry as well ma’am and she was adamant that I tell you that she needs you to go to Mr. Samuel’s house.
-But she didn’t explain to you why?
-I’m afraid not ma’am.
-It’s okay Avis, there’s plenty of time until twelve. – the relationship Avis shared with Ellen Kincaid was long and comforting, but also frustrating and caring, and anything that woman said to Avis always helped her somehow, without fail. You had seen the Kincaid magic at work a few times since you had begun working as her secretary, calming shouting spells or angry huffs. You also knew Avis would do anything for her and had given Ellen plenty of advice about various topics throughout the years, so having her call reinforcements like this meant that someone or something was going on that only the mighty Avis could handle. You walked over to her, placing both hands on her arms, rubbing the soft fabric and the skin underneath in a comforting motion. - We won’t lose our reservations just because we are little bit late, and Miss Kincaid needs your help
-As long as you are sure about this and don’t mind driving to Dick’s house, I guess it’s alright. I can give Ellen a call though and see what she wants, save us having to go at all.
-I swear I’m fine with it, Avis. If you are worried about people seeing me with you, I’ll just stay in the car.
-What? No! I don’t give a shit about what they think, I just don’t want your plans to go down the drain.
-They won’t, I promise. We go, see what the problem is, fix it if we can and then leave. Easy plan.
-You say that now, when you are not amongst drunk actors and producers. We’ll go in but we don’t know when we might come out.
-I’ve survived shopping on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I can take a few drunks just fine. Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner we’ll leave. - She groaned a little but followed your cue, grabbing her black stole from where it laid over the railing, throwing it over her shoulder, and picking up her purse from the little table next to the front doors. Gertie wished you both a good night, winking discreetly in your direction as you opened those big wooden gates for Avis, letting her walk into the night. You rushed over to her when you heard the click of the doors behind you, watching the lady as she stomped towards your car. – Hey, hey. Avis, wait, stop. – she halted her motions, turning around with a questioning look in her big eyes. You took her free hand in yours as soon as you reached her. – Don’t be mad, Ellen is your friend, and she might be in real trouble.
-I know. I’m not mad at her, nor you, I’m fucking pissed at Ace for not giving a shit about traditions and dumping the party on Dick. His house is not as big as ours and some of the people that get invited turn into fucking monsters when they’ve got a couple of vodkas in their system. I’m worried about Ellen, sure, but I don’t want to subject you to any of that. I don’t want you to be in harm’s way.
-I love that you want to protect me, Avis, honestly, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Ellen is our priority, and if something does happen to me while we are there, I’ll scream the house down or stab people with my heels, whatever it takes to ease your mind. But we will cross that bridge if get to it, okay?
-If someone lays a single finger on you, I’ll destroy them. Their lives, their careers, maybe even their bodies. – her eyes were dark as she stepped back into your personal space, pulling you against her frame with the hand that you were still holding, feeling the way her breasts brushed against your coat through her gown with each breath. The rush of desire that you had first felt when she had stood at the top of the stairs returned full force, the air around you both charged and hot. - They’ll remember who Avis fucking Amberg is and that she will take drastic measures when it comes to you.
-Holy fuck, Avis.
-I very much intend to do so to you, honey, but after we rescue Ellen. You’ve made a good case in her name, and you promised me a date, so get your ass in that car.
-Yes, ma’am.
-No ma’am tonight, Y/N. Until dawn, I’m simply Avis.
-Avis. – it was as if you were rolling her name in your mouth, seeing how it sounded, how it tasted on your lips and tongue, her eyes darting to the way you traced your own lipstick at the sound of it. – A most beautiful name. I can’t wait for it to be the first word I say when the New Year arrives, a name I won’t stop uttering until the very first rays of sunlight break through the sky, hopefully.
Two could play her game, you thought. She was so close to your mouth, she only needed to end the few inches gap that separated you and you would be hers to do as she pleased with, and yet she pulled away, dropping your hand and beginning to walk towards your car, hips swaying in the night. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your horny self down a little, pulling the keys from your pocket and unlocking the vehicle with shaky fingers. Avis stood on your side of the car, tracing the white top with her hand before walking behind you to round the vehicle and sit in the passenger’s seat. She took the chance though and spanked you as you bent to step inside the vehicle, a surprised yelp escaping your lips as your head wiped to look at her, an innocent expression on her face but a naughty smirk overtaking her eyes. How could you not freaking adore her when she tempted you like this! The action left a delicious sting on your ass that sent a shiver to your core as you sat down and waited for her to settle beside you. If she started behaving like his you would have to end the date earlier than anticipated so you could have your way with her. Engine on and with the car back on the road you followed Avis’s directions, her hand signalling when to turn and what exits to take. You had never been to Mr. Samuel’s residence, not that you could recall anyway and to be honest you wished that the trip wouldn’t have to be under these terms, you would have simply loved to accompany Avis and have a quiet dinner with friends, holding her hand and pecking her cheek as a thank you when she handed you a drink while engaging her friends in conversation. Things that Ace didn’t do with her because he was a fucking idiot.
Through the corner of your eyes, you saw Avis’s knee bouncing up and down, a sign that she was nervous, your right hand shooting to rest over it gently, tapping and rubbing it over her dress in calming motions. You could not take all that nervousness out of her chest, but you could try and make her feel a little bit happier and little bit less stressed. Feeling her hand on top of yours, her warmth seeping under your skin, was a delightful and quiet moment just for the two of you, her fingers playing with your ring, her free hand turning the knob of the radio up a little to hear the music better, humming to the tune. The lyrics were unfamiliar to you, but she seemed to be enjoying herself even if her leg would bounce every once in a while; you weren’t expecting her anxiety to vanish just because. And upon being pointed towards a house, cars parked everywhere with hardly any room to drive or manoeuvre your vehicle into a safe spot, you realised she had not been kidding. Mr. Samuel’s house was by no means small, compared to your tiny ass apartment, but it was small if you took Avis’s place as the standard size for a mansion. People were also everywhere, out on the street, in the garden, on balconies, literally everywhere. You were sure that if you waited for a minute someone would go up on the roof. Turning the car off Avis pulled out a cigarette from her purse, taking a deep drag before puffing the smoke into the cabin, the nicotine in her system calming her nerves a bit more. You waited though, until she was ready to step out, after all, you were doing this at her own pace, throughout the entire night you would be following her cues, never pressing, never asking or doing things she would not enjoy. A minute passed before she stepped out of the car with you in tow, flicking the butt of her cigarette onto the floor, her hand grabbing yours and pulling your body close as she made her way to the front door, smiling at people as they greeted her but never slowing her steps.
If you dropped a pin in that house, over a dozen people would get stabbed before it reached the floor, if it reached the floor. The music was blasting from the record player, people were screaming and laughing loudly, and the filters they would usually have when sober absolutely gone, the smell of alcohol floating in the air along with overwhelming perfumes that made you scrunch your nose. And Avis had to attend this sort of parties all the time? No wonder she drank, there was no way in hell a sober person could stand more than two minutes in there before going nuts. Trying to move in between all these people was a sport in itself, and trying not to bump into people’s drinks or elbows was something impossible to achieve, as you very well realised when you tried to squeeze past two men with Avis pulling on your hand and a random sharp pain had rushed up your back, making you hiss. Avis’s eyes were searching furiously for a head of blond hair belonging to Ellen, but all she could see were fake brunettes and red heads and many bald spots as she walked up a couple of stairs to get a better view and a wider range of heads. This was definitely worse than shopping at Christmas or Thanksgiving, at least you could make it to the door then. A group of over five men walked past you from upstairs, whiskeys in their hands, eyeing you both as if you were dishes on a menu. You glared, not because they were looking at you, you still had your coat on, but because they were looking at Avis, and they were not being discreet or gentlemanly about it. One of them lifted a hand, your eyes watching in slow motion how it rose up in the air and turned, fingers extended, as it went straight for Avis’s ass, though you were quick and grabbed his wrist before it collided.
-Touch her and I’ll rip your fucking hands off.
-Wow, wow, calm down sweetheart. We were just having some fun. – upon the sound of your voice, venom spewing from each word, Avis turned her head to look at you and the men she had not even taken notice of, her eyes on your hand as it still held his wrist right above her buttocks before lifting her gaze to your face. If glares could kill, they would already be dead by the way you were murdering them with your eyes.
-How much fun do you think you could have if I rip your limbs off, eh? Sweetheart.
His smile dropped, muttering “bitch” as he freed his hand from your grip and walked down the stairs with the other four twats following him. What the fuck was wrong with men thinking they could do whatever they pleased with women? It was a tale as old as time, getting catcalled, pushed away from jobs because one happened to have something that wasn’t a dick in between one’s legs, getting called emotional or hysterical when you were just fucking done with all their bullshit. No wonder ladies preferred the company of other ladies, at least if one was being a bitch, there was a good reason for it and not because a man was trying to get his hands under your skirt and you just wanted him to stop. The surprised and yet loving look that Avis was throwing your way caught you off guard, her lips mouthing a “thank you” under all the noise around you, the hand that was still holding onto yours giving a gentle squeeze. Did she think you were going to let anyone, be it a man, a woman or a fucking alien touch her without her consent? No fucking way. You reciprocated and returned the squeeze. A woman’s voice called out Avis’s name, forcing you both to break your gaze and turn to look at the foot of the stairs, Ellen standing there, wringing her hands on her chest. Avis pulled you down with her to meet the other woman, noticing a big red stain in her usual pristine blue suit.
-Thank God you are here. This is madness Avis
-What’s wrong?
-Just look around! I don’t know who half of these people are, and you know I usually don’t mind, but there was a fight not twenty minutes ago and Dick got a bottle smashed on his head! – the usually collected woman was two seconds away from a full-blown panic attack, and maybe, just maybe, you thought, the stain on her jacket might not actually be wine. A shiver of fear ran down your spine, all the anger and lust you had been feeling in the past five minutes jumping out the window. Maybe these sorts of celebrations weren’t you cup of tea after all. -Doesn’t Ace usually hire security for this sort of parties?
-Of course, I gave Dick the list with all the phone numbers.
-Well, either they got murdered in the back and we just haven’t found them, or he did not hire them.
-Alright, alright, calm down Ellen. Where’s Dick?
-In the living room. He’s got a nasty cut on his forehead, but I cleaned it up and bandaged it. Henry was with him the last time I checked, keeping an eye on him.
-Okay, let me talk with him. Y/N, you stay put. Don’t move from here at all, I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise.
Before you could protest, she had let go of your hand, the crowded room swallowing both her and Ellen. And there you were, alone, standing at the foot of the stairs looking like an idiot with your hands in your coat pockets without knowing a single person around you. They were all glammed up, with expensive suits and gorgeous dresses that you had only seen in magazines everywhere, blinding in the lights of the chandeliers, the ceiling fuzzy under a cloud of smoke from pipes, cigars and cigarettes. Even with the doors wide open the atmosphere inside Mr. Samuel’s house was stifling, almost choking with all the heat and the smells. Without thinking twice, you untied your coat and pushed it off your shoulders, folding it over your left forearm, the relief of not cooking in your sweat a welcome feeling, resting your back against the railing. Whatever song was playing now you could not make it out over the loud conversations, not that you had much chance of trying to as you felt the touch of a hand on your waist and a glass of something transparent right on your face. The drink was being held by a manly hand, so obviously this wasn’t Avis tempting you, and following the arm attached to it you found yourself looking up at Mr. Amberg’s lawyer, Lon Silver. You had never talked with him except for perhaps a few times as you directed him into your boss’s office and the formal greetings that one was supposed to give, but it did not go unnoticed by you how his eyes remained on your chest for a few seconds too long.
-Well, Miss Y/L/N, I wouldn’t have taken you for a party girl. Here, have a drink.
-Good evening, Mr. Silver. I have only accompanied someone, so I will be leaving shortly. Parties are not my thing, sir.
-Drop the formalities, please, it’s New Year’s Eve. Go on, drink, you feel rather tense.
The grip on your waist became uncomfortably hard and rough, the strength he was applying close to being painful, his hand pushing the drink onto yours. People inside your personal bubble was always a big no-no for you, except for Avis, she could do whatever she desired, so having Lon that close to you, his strong aftershave mixing with the alcohol of his breath made all sorts of alerts just go off in your head. Your eyes moved from the glass to his face observing how dark his eyes were along with the smirk on his thin lips, your body taking a step back. That seemed to both anger him and excite him because his smile dropped completely, the glass being pushed into your arms all while his grip on your waist became nearly bruising, still you did not grab the bloody drink. The sound of glass shattering was hardly heard in the crowded hall, but it seemed to echo in your head, reverberating as the drink crashed against the tiles and Lon pushed his body closer, his other hand now holding onto your wrist. It was as if your mind was frozen in place. This was Mr. Amberg’s lawyer, he could destroy you in the blink of an eye, but you did not want him, at all. That fear that had overtaken you not that long ago after hearing Ellen’s words was reaching the panicking peak now, heart racing, blood pumping in your ears.
-Sir, please, let go.
-It’s always the same with you young girls, isn’t it? You dress like this, to draw the eye but when a man looks at you, you all become frigid bitches.
-Mr. Silver, please, you are drunk.
-So what? That hasn’t stopped me from fucking others before.
-Please, stop, let go of me. I’m sure you would not do this sober.
-Wouldn’t I? I would have done unspeakable things to you already if I had had the chance. Which I do now, so don’t be a bitch. We’ll both enjoy it. – his head was in the crook of your neck, smelling you in. You only had two options, you thought, pray that someone would come to the rescue or step on his foot with your stiletto hoping that he would let go and you could run for your life.
-LON! – fate had chosen for you, thank God.
Avis’s voice carried from under the living room threshold with such ease, the redhead having screamed practically at the top of her lungs, startling everyone in the hallway. The man she addressed in particular jumped in his spot, letting your wrist go but not your waist, turning to face the woman. His face was contorted in a fake smile and a sweet greeting.
-Why Avis! Aren’t you supposed to be with Ace? Oh, right, he’d rather spend his time with someone else.
-Oh, Lon, still behaving like a fucking pervert, I see.
Her steps were so hard against the floor that you thought one of her heels could snap at any moment, but you did not care much right now. Your body had sighed with relief upon hearing her, even if you were still in Mr. Silver’s grip and could not wait for her to say something so he would let you go. She was beyond angry, you could see it in the way her body moved, her fists closed, her eyes hard and cold under her eyelashes. Reaching you both she did not hesitate, everyone staring at them, the noise having died down a little, thankfully, and grabbed his crotch with her right hand, nails digging hard into his flesh. He screamed loudly and painfully and dropped both his hands to hold her arm, freeing you, almost as if he thought her capable of ripping his junk off with one quick motion. Thinking about it for a second you thought she could actually do it by how furious she was. Pushing yourself off the railing you rushed her way, standing behind her while rubbing your wrist a bit trying to soothe the red spot that had covered your sensitive skin, body shaking as the adrenaline released into your bloodstream.
-Who the fuck do you think you are?
-Avis, let go!
-Why should I? You did not let go of her, did you? Did you?!
-No! No! Jesus, Avis, let go!
-I’m saying this one time and one time only. – her grip became harder, her knuckles white with the effort, Lon turned into a ball of whimpers and whines of pain as his eyes filled with tears. – If you touch her again, even so much as breath near her again, I’ll blow your dick and balls off with a shotgun.
-Alright! Alright!
-No, I don’t think you get the message. Would you like a demonstration, cause I’m sure I can get my hands on a gun.
-NO! FOR FUCK’S SAKES AVIS, LET GO! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!
Satisfied with the tears that ran down his cheeks she finally let him go, the man dropping to his knees with his hands covering his crotch, whimpering pathetically. He was like a little baby, curled on the floor. Neither you nor Avis felt a touch of sympathy for him and his pain though; he was lucky in fact, she could have done horrible things to him in that hallway if she had had the weapons, and no one would have known what had happened as they were all too drunk to even stand straight. Her hands shot to your cheeks as she turned around, her eyes roaming like crazy all over your body to make sure you were alright, the hatred and fury that had glazed them now completely changed over to concern and worry. It did not go unnoticed the way her eyes lingered on your dress, but she was quick to shake herself out of looking at you with lust, she still needed to assess that that man had not harmed you in any way. This was what she had feared, not him in particular, but anyone who could have seen your pretty face and decided they wanted you for themselves. This time she had got lucky and had intervened right on time before he could have done anything truly horrid to you, but that did not shake the feeling that she had failed you, out of her chest. In your head the only thought that was going around and around was that she had saved you, that the entire ordeal was over and she had saved you, which overtook every feeling of fear that man had imposed on you. After all nothing had happened to you, he didn’t get the chance, and you were not going to let him ruin your and Avis’s night.
-Are you okay? Has he hurt you? You are rubbing your wrist; did he twist it? Do you need a doctor?
-I’m fine, Avis.
-But its red, it probably hurts. – her warm hands moved from your cheeks to your arm, holding your hand gently to inspect the redness that was already vanishing.
-I’m fine, Avis.
-I’m sure there’s a doctor somewhere in here. Let me ask Ellen sh-
-Avis! – she stopped her rambling at the sound of your voice, her eyes locking with yours, her movements still at last. – I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me, my lady in shining armour came to my rescue and made sure of that. I’m fine.
-You are fine?
-I’m fine.
-Alright, I believe you. But at the slightest thing I’m taking you to a doctor.
-If it leaves your mind at ease, I’ll let you drag me all throughout Hollywood.
It was lucky Lon was already on the floor because Dick had stepped out into the hallway searching for Avis, her voice having carried well into the street, and he would have flipped at the sight of her with her hand on Lon’s crotch making him cry. Ellen stopped him from approaching either of you, whispering in his ear while pointing at the ball of flesh on the floor and you two, chuckling silently at the socked expression on his face. What a party, he thought. Avis’s hand was back in yours, fingers intertwined, pulling your body towards the front door all while asking Ellen if there was anything else she needed to do, to which the blond woman answered with a no. She blew a kiss at both of her friends while wishing them a good night and a happy New Year, still walking towards the street, only to stop for an instant when she heard Lon yelling that he was going to end her by telling Ace, at which she did not even bother to turn around. She didn’t need to see his face to answer him.
-Fuck off, Lon.
With Avis beside you now, it was easier to move on from the fear and craziness of the entire situation, laughing after a moment or two, your hot breath turning into translucent steam in the cold air of the night as you let Avis carry on pulling you. Only a few handful of people would remember this party, and it was both a good and a sad thing, but at least you could enjoy the hilarious points of tonight right there and then as you unlocked the door of your car, stepping inside it after throwing your coat on the back seats. God, the look on his face… you should have taken a picture. Avis was surprised at your response, thinking that maybe the adrenaline had overtaken you, and this was your body’s reaction to such a crazy thing. Still, she chuckled lightly before beginning to laugh alongside you as if she had been infected by it, her forehead on your shoulder, both bodies shaking uncontrollably. It was always joyous to hear her laugh, her body relaxed against yours, her voice loud and melodious echoing against the car top in absolute glee. You thought she didn’t get to enjoy herself like this often and she deserved it, even if the motive right now was less than pleasant. Wiping a tear that had gathered at the corner of your eye, you took a few calming breaths trying to stop the nearly continuous chuckles that melted along with Avis’s as she pushed herself against the door. When you finally caught your breath, it was impossible not to smile at the reddish blush that had spread over Avis’s cheeks, neck, and chest, her hair framing her face, complementing it beautifully. Even the light from the streetlamps seemed to be working in her favour tonight, making her eyes shine like rich molten chocolate and her hair like fire against her olive kissed skin skin.
She was doing nothing, absolutely nothing, and yet your body was on fire once more, the last few minutes forgotten in the back of your head. Perhaps it had been the entire act of saving you and the consequences that it had brought upon Lon, maybe it had been the way she had thanked you for protecting her from those jerks. Maybe it was the balance, the union of making sure you were both safe, you could not be sure, but you did know that you wanted her, here and now, and by the way her smile moved from simple relaxation and fun to desire, she had thought the exact same thing. It was not as if the car was a stranger to the two of you fucking in it. But this time it didn’t feel like you were simply lusting after her as you knelt on the seats, crawling towards her until her back was pressed firmly against the car door, your hands resting beside her hips but without touching, you face inches from hers, it was love. Her dress had fallen open as her legs parted to accommodate you, those firm and shapely legs dressed in nude silk that could drive you insane. Your tongue traced and licked her half-ajar lips, feeling her hot breath on your mouth, the carmine like a drug that could drive you wild. Pupils were blown wide, breaths rapid, nearly coming in pants when your hands moved onto her legs, fingering the fabric of the clip on her left thigh, feeling the way her skin rose in goosebumps, a quiet moan escaping Avis’s lips, those utterly desirable lips that were brushing against yours, those lips that had fought for you, threatened for you, pleased you and taken you to the heavens. Those lips that you claimed against yours.
It was rough and messy, but it also held a loving nature that made Avis sigh against your mouth, both your tongues battling for dominance, her teeth scrapping your upper lip. Both her hands had shot to the back of your head to keep you firmly pressed against her, chest against chest. Your hands moved from her stockings to her inner thighs as slowly as you could, drawing out whimpers and whines that were muffled by your kisses, teasing the edge of her knickers. That simple motion made her gasp loudly, one of her hands holding onto your wrist to prevent it from moving away from where she needed it the most. You let her guide you, fingers swiping against the lace feeling how wet she already was. Had her playing saviour turned her on?
Her head fell back against the window as your fingers worked on her through the fabric, whimpering when you removed them completely only to scream an instant later when you pushed the offending garment aside and plunged two fingers deep inside her. As much as you wanted to trail kisses down her exposed neck you did not want to risk staining the dress cherry red, so your lips remained upon hers as your fingers pumped in and out of her, curling to hit that spot. Avis had not had this in mind at all when you had both left the house, but she was not going to complain when you were working her into an orgasm that she could feel building in her core, like a fire that had begun to sparkle and was rapidly growing and blazing. Her hips thrust to meet your movements, your free hand using one of those moments when her hips were up in the air to remove the dress from underneath her, the feeling of the leather under her ass enticing her even further.
The whines and whimpers were growing into pants and moaning gasps. With your thumb you rubbed her clit, the surprised yelp that escaped her throat swallowed by your lips, the speed of your fingers never faltering. She was mumbling in your mouth, but you could not make out her words, not that you needed to, her body was signalling that she was close with the way her walls were clenching around your fingers. After giving her clit a hard rub her orgasm overtook her, catching you both off guard, her head lulled back as her back arched off the door forcing your kiss to end as her voice rose in high pitched gasps. Even in this cloud of pleasure, she was trying so hard not to scream your name at the top of her lungs, there were too many people that would be able to hear her, her juices all over your fingers, walls and thighs trembling, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders for dear life. You slowed the pace of your fingers, rubbing her calf with your other hand to bring her gently down from her high, her body slumping against the car door after a moment, her breasts nearly spilling out of her dress as her breaths returned slowly to normal. Her eyes were closed as if she could savour the pleasure you had given her for a bit longer like that, opening them when she felt you pull your fingers out. She watched mesmerized how you took a handkerchief out of your purse to clean her up as gently as you could, her body twitching whenever you brushed her swollen clit, returning her underwear to its initial position once you were satisfied with your work. Bending forward you gave her inner thighs a gentle peck before sitting back on your knees.
-What was that for? – her voice was quiet, a lazy smile on her lips, fingers playing with the chain around your neck basking in the afterglow.
-For saving me, for being my lady in shining armour, for nearly ripping Mr. Silver’s balls off… For simply being you, Avis.
-For being me? You know you don’t have to do this every time I do something for you.
-Trust me, it was no effort on my part besides, it is my most sincere opinion that you should always be shown just how wonderful and perfect you are.
-I like that you seem to not be bothered by my many faults. Ace would have gone insane had he seen what I did to his precious lawyer.
-Good thing I’m not Ace. I know when I have the most extraordinary woman in front of me, and instead of taking her for granted, I take her to dinner. If you still want to.
-Of course! You worked too hard for this; I won’t let my own lust and desire ruin your plans. This orgasm can last me until midnight, so surprise me Y/N, take me wherever you want.
-To the Heavens then.
-Oh, you soppy girl.
-No, the restaurant is called the Heavens, I swear.
It was stupid, an absolute nonsense that made you both laugh, a little quieter this time. This is how you wanted to spend every minute of your life, with her, not a worry in the world. Avis moved to sit properly on the passenger seat, draping her skirt back over her legs and pulling a cigarette out as you settled yourself behind the wheel. The ride was completely different this time. The air around you was calm, relaxed, and contented, the tune on the radio suddenly a song you knew like the back of your hand, humming quietly as Avis began to sing. You had never known she possessed such a beautiful voice, sweet as honey, gentle like a breeze with a pitch so perfect you wondered if she had ever done anything that wasn’t simply perfect in her entire life. It was outstanding, to say the least. 
Your breath hitched in your lungs at her words, stunned by the emotion that dripped in between the music, her hand searching for yours where it laid beside you on your seat, intertwining your fingers. She didn’t need you to tell her how you felt, she knew, in everything you did, in every glance, every smile, every kiss, and every word that left your lips. Singing her feelings to you was the best way for her to let you know how she felt, that in her life Ace was the other woman. This was what the meaning of the word happy meant to you, what it had brought to your bleak and monotone life, and dressed it in colourful clothes and astonishing sunsets.
Time after time
I tell myself that I'm
So lucky to be loving you
Many nights you had dreamt of that, opening the door to your apartment to find her curled up on the couch, waiting for you. You hadn’t wanted her to spend the evenings alone in that big house, you had wanted to be beside her, no matter what people thought. The lights of the side streets weren’t as bright as the main avenue, but that gentle hue seemed to agree with Avis, watching her sway her head at the beat of the music, her eyes closed. How could light play such games that with a full moon over your heads its glow always bathed her at the perfect angle making you melt in your seat. She looked like she belonged in a movie, her body gently bent over a balcony railing letting the moon wash over her as her love serenated her.
So lucky to be
The one you run to see in the evening
When the day is through
I only know what I know
The passing years will show
You've kept my love so young, so new
You had parked in front of a colourful restaurant, nearly hitting the trunk of a blue Lincoln that was stationed in front of you as your eyes had been bewitched by Avis, loud voices surrounding the car from the people that were either leaving or going into the restaurant, but they were nothing but background noise to you. Avis’s eyes locked with yours, you seemed to be doing that a lot tonight, singing the words directly at you, never blinking. Your heart fluttered in your chest, once more her mouth telling you that she was so lucky to be loving you, her voice dropping from singing to speaking the last line, stating a fact. And your greedy heart accepted it because to you the meaning of happy was Avis. The rest of the song went by in silence, both of you lost in each other so deep that the world could have vanished around you, and you wouldn’t have taken notice, your lips pecking hers, foreheads pressed together. If time could be stopped, you would have done so right there and then never wanting to move on from this. The next song on the radio was a cheerful Christmas song, but the change in tune did not break the spell, it only seemed to enhance the joy of the moment as you turned the engine off and stepped out, pulling her towards you into the street.
And time after time
You'll hear me say that I'm
So lucky to be loving you
The atmosphere was contagious, people singing off-key and dancing clumsily over the pavement. Pulling Avis against your chest you joined in the simple bliss of the moment, swaying from side to side with one hand on her waist while the other held onto hers, twirling among the people. It made her laugh, following your steps that seemed to be getting closer to the restaurant door, an older couple clapping as you twirled Avis under your arm before pressing her against you, dipping her. Her laughter only became louder, gleeful, with her body arched towards the floor, her precious red waves falling free. Returning her to her feet as she caught her breath, she let you guide her and open the door so she could go in first. What a lady you were. She was taken aback by how beautiful that place was, the entrance hall covered in frescos that reminded her of the Sistine Chapel, a gorgeous semicircular arch in white marble dividing the entryway from the dining room, the lights dim but not so much that one wouldn’t be able to see where they were going, adding to the mystical atmosphere. A young man approached her dressed in a black suit with a name tag on his lapel, greeting her kindly and asking if she had made a reservation. Avis nodded, turning her head in your direction as you let the door close, stepping inside the restaurant. The man’s eyes suddenly shone in recognition, greeting you excitedly, smiling down at Avis so she would not feel pushed aside or left out.
-Y/N! We were all worried you weren’t coming!
-Hello, Marco. We got caught up in something, but we are here now. How is your father?
-You know, in the kitchen. He’s been asking me for the last hour if you had arrived.
-You can tell him now that I’m here, and that I’ve said to leave you alone. – Avis watched the exchange with curiosity, the boy’s English good but with a very thick Italian accent, his hands gesturing as if they had strings and were being controlled by an external force. There was a comforting glow on your face at the sight of the boy, as if you had been lifelong friends, perhaps as if he were a brother. Your eyes drifted towards her, taking her hand and placing it in the crook of your arm, smiling sweetly at her. - Oh, Marco, this is Avis Amberg, my dinner guest for tonight.
-Pleased to meet you, Signoria Amberg. Y/N has spoken so much about you.
-Good things, I hope.
-Of course! She’s taken with you. Please, follow me.
She had never been to this restaurant before, but it had clearly been there for a while now, the dining room absolutely filled up with people. The walls were covered in stained glass windows, the ceiling decorated with gorgeous chandeliers, the floor made out of white marble as pictures and paintings of beautiful landscapes dressed the empty spots on the walls. It had a wonderful homely touch in every detail, names carved on the pillars that were disguised as columns, like something one would find inside temples, old photographs of people that were clearly simple folk from somewhere outside glamorous Hollywood in every corner. The conversations were loud and buzzing with excitement, children laughing and playing, old couples holding hands, smiling at each other. This place was so different from those fancy places that she frequented with Dick and Ellen or that she would take producers and actors to butter them up. This place was wholesome, it had a history seeping through every crack and corner, and Avis could not think of a better place for her to be than here with you. Marco guided you both through tables, speaking with some of the guests in Italian, switching to English as he addressed others, the gentle sound of music in the background in a mix of songs from both countries that pleased the guests. Coming to a hallway he opened a black door showing a spacious room with a table in the back, in front of a huge stained glass window.
-Here you are Signoria Amberg. Y/N – he bowed his head before closing the door, leaving you alone. Avis was shocked not only because the room was even more beautiful than she could have imagined, walls dressed in white wood, the ceiling filled with images of fields of lemons and olive trees painted al fresco, but because she knew how hard and how much this sort of rooms cost.
-A private booth? Y/N, this must have cost you a fortune, I would have been alright with a table in the main dining room.
-I know, but Marco’s father never gives me one. This room is my room whenever I come here, so he doesn’t actually make me pay for it. “It is yours until I die,” he says to me, so I’ve stopped fighting.
-How long have you known these people? You seem like part of the family. – she was looking around the room, her hands tracing the shapes of the columns, feeling the warmth of the tinted wood under her fingertips. She clearly liked the place, the lump that had formed in your throat when she had first stepped inside the restaurant vanishing. You had been worried there for a moment that she would not like it and would ask you to take her somewhere else, but her eyes shone with excitement and her frame relaxed, so there was nothing to worry about in the end.
-Well, when I came to Hollywood a few good years ago I came across Marco who needed help with the restaurant as they were building it, so I offered a helping hand. I’ve been a part of the family ever since. It’s not an exciting story I’m afraid.
-Not every story needs to be exciting to be good, don’t you think? You were alone and now you have them… and me. That’s the best story in my opinion.
-Bimba! – the doors practically flew off their hinges at the force the man standing under the threshold used, his frame tall and big frame, rounded stomach, and hairy face filling up the room, that deep rambling voice tainted with a thick Italian accent, just like his son, bouncing off the walls. It startled you both, Avis practically jumping on the spot, a graceful hand on her chest.
-Jesus, Giuseppe, you nearly killed me there.
-Ah, nonsense! It’s good to see you again, you have been away for too long.
-I came by three days ago!
-As I said, too long. Ah, who is this bellissima signoria? – in two big strides he was towering over Avis, taking her hand and kissing the back of it, a gentle blush spreading over her cheeks at the gesture. If this weren’t the two people you knew the most in the world, you would be jealous, but Avis would never leave you for him and he would never leave his wife for Avis, of that you were sure, still you glided to her side, placing your hands on her shoulder to look up at the big man.
-This is Avis Amberg.
-She is the woman you never shut up about?
-Giuseppe!
-What? It is you who talks about her, not me. So, Avis, may I call you Avis, nah, I will call you Avis, how do you like our Y/N?
-Giuseppe, please. – Avis thrived in the way you hid your face in the crook of her neck as if you could run away from the embarrassing conversation, both your bodies shaking lightly with Avis’s laughter. God, she wished she could see you, you would probably be the most delectable shade of red.
-Since you asked, I like her very much Mr…
-Call me Giuseppe. So, you like her, and she likes you… Ahhh, l’amore. So beautiful. When I met my Teresa, I thought she was horrible. She had a temper that could make her fight in a war, but when I talked with her, I knew I wanted her to be yelling at me forever. So, I married her. Now you have found your Teresa, Y/N, and I hope she yells at you exactly like you dreamed she would.
You didn’t quite want Avis to yell at you, more along the lines of you making her scream, but in a way he was right. You had found the woman of your dreams, you just had to make sure her husband never found out. Lifting your head from Avis’s shoulder, the orange blossom aroma of her hair filling your lungs, making you feel all warm and fuzzy, Giuseppe caressed your cheek with his big hand. He was a second father to you and his main project in life was to make sure all his kids were happy, including you, and although he did not understand in full why you would prefer a woman over a man, he could see the light in your eyes, the pink on your cheeks, how your days had moved from repetitive boring documents to finding a purpose. But what he could see most of all was that this older woman that you had in your arms shared that same light. Two perfect halves that had found each other, complementing the other, seeing the angles that the other person couldn’t, protecting and loving each other without a doubt, without expectations. He patted Avis’s hand gently before guiding you both to the table, pushing the chair to let the older woman sit first before moving on to yours, two menus already waiting on top of the table. He made his excuses to allow you to look at the dishes, closing the door and leaving you alone once more.
-He’s quite something.
-He’s passionate. He wanted to be a painter, a writer, an actor, anything and everything, so he feels things quite deeply. He did not offend you, did he?
-No, not at all. One would think that living surrounded by actors you should be used to this sort of thing, the passion, the art, but no. They are superficial boring people, most of them anyway. This Giuseppe has the heart of an artist, the emotions. It is a change from parrots that vomit scripts in front of a camera. – her eyes drifted onto the menus in her hands, looking at all the wonderful dishes that were written. - So why is he a chef?
-Because of his Teresa. She taught him all the things his mother could not, and he learnt, quite fast.
-Because he loves her.
-How could he not? She came into his life when he was down, broken, tired and bored of doing nothing with his life and she brought him spice, and sex, and happiness and how could anyone say no to the person that changes them for the better? How could he say no to his Teresa? How could I say no to you?
Her heart did not leap, it somersaulted, in her chest upon hearing your words, unsure if the first part was how you had felt before she had walked into your life or if it was indeed how the man had felt. It was true on both accounts. Her eyes drifted to look at you over the menu, seeing that you were looking back at her, the moment still in time. Avis had cried for too long about her life, her marriage, about how alone she felt as if she were just an accessory to Ace’s life destined to do nothing, be nothing. But suddenly you were there, and all that pain and hurt from the past decade or so had vanished into nothing, care and love blooming, feeling like she mattered for the first time in her life, and all the credit was yours to take. You had picked up her pieces and instead of gluing them together temporarily like Ernie had been doing for years, you were actively fixing her. There was no transaction, no contract to be fulfilled, no promotions or brand-new careers to begin, it was just little you giving little Avis what her heart needed the most.
Marco came back a couple of minutes later to take note of your drinks, informing you that the kitchen would stop serving warm dishes thirty minutes before midnight. Checking the clock on the wall you saw that it was fifteen minutes away from eleven thirty, so hurriedly you took Avis’s menu and began pointing at dishes telling her which ones were good and which ones were a little bit less good, earning a chuckle from Marco, making mental notes whenever she said that she didn’t like an ingredient for future dates. In the end, you settled on a two-person parmigiana di melanzane, a side of ruschette, which Giuseppe knew you adored, Eggs in Purgatory, and a bowl of chicken pastina. It was a lot of food, you knew, but there were just so many things you wanted her to try, so perhaps you had gone a little bit overboard, not that whatever was left would go to waste, no, Teresa would wrap it for you so you could take it home, maybe even make some extra bits here and there so Avis could take them home as well. True that she was nearly their age, but Teresa was a mother to everyone, be it a three-year-old or a fifty-year-old, and leftovers were leftovers in Hollywood and Italy. Marco wrote it all down before excusing himself, the sounds of the main dining room seeping into your booth for a moment before it all turned silent again. An idea popped into your head. Standing from your chair you made your way to the left corner of the room, next to the door, where a record player rested on top of a small table along with a box filled with vinyls. Avis rested against the back of her chair, lower lip in between her teeth, one leg crossed over the other allowing her knees to peek through the opening of her dress as she observed you flick through the disks, your curvaceous body moving gently, pulling one out after a minute.
She did not quite catch the title of the album, not that she was paying much attention when there was so much of your skin exposed for her to feast on, her eyes raking and drinking in every inch of flesh, waiting for you to finish settling the disk, placing the needle on top and turning the machine on. There was only the sound of the needle scratching over the vinyl for a moment before the soft chords of an acoustic guitar began to play. Of course you would choose a love song, you just couldn’t help yourself, but she did not mind at all, she hadn’t felt like a lovesick teenager in far too long and how could she ever be mad at you when you were walking towards her with you palm extended asking her to dance. She took it without hesitation, letting her body be pulled towards yours, her hands resting over your shoulders while she felt the warmth of your palms around her waist. The song was quiet, gentle in its tones making the words the centre of attention, a confession that was so close to slipping out of your lips, right at the tip of your tongue. You began to sway slowly, your feet not moving from the spot in the middle of the room, a place just for the two of you, no Ace, no studio, no Ellen or Lon, just Avis and you. You had both danced many times in your life, but nothing could compare to this private moment.
-I have not told you yet, but you look beautiful. That dress looks exquisite on you.
-Did you forget to compliment me and are trying to fix it before midnight? It’s alright if you did, we’ve had a hectic night.
-I did not, I was too in awe of you that I could not find the words. Saying that you look beautiful feels like such a weak compliment, perhaps I should say that you look bewitching, stunning, divine… I could go on you know.
-I wouldn’t mind if you did. – you just couldn’t get enough of her, be it her perfume, her gorgeous red lips, the way she looked at you with those big brown eyes of hers that made your legs grow weak. You would never understand how her husband did not fall to his knees every time she set foot in a room, it was madness. - It would be a change from only complimenting me when I’m in my underwear.
-As if you don’t do the same.
-No, I compliment you when you are not in your underwear, it’s different.
-And would you want me in nothing but my pearls if we were somewhere else? A chance to make sure I’m not in my underwear?
In the light of the chandelier, you could see how her pupils were blown wide, nearly overtaking the brown of her irises, the grip she had on your shoulders harder than before, her short nails scraping the nape of your neck. A quiet groan slipped out of your lips at the feeling, goosebumps all over your skin, her lips brushing yours but never truly kissing, the music still guiding you both around the room. The grip on her waist was harder, fingering the fabric, surprised that you could actually feel the lace of her corselette through the silk of her gown. God, you wanted her so bad, but it would be far too inappropriate to take her on top of the table when anyone could come in and call you out on your behaviour, you would just need to wait. Not that this foreplay was a bad thing, your eyes counting all the freckles that were exposed on her chest, licking your lips as the swells of her breasts rose and fell. Avis’s head was spinning, your berries shower gel powerful enough that she could almost taste it on her tongue along with your cherry lipstick, your long neck so tempting. She could bend and leave her mark right on your collarbone, make sure everyone knew you were hers, but she could not subject you to a reprimand from these lovely people you had learnt to love as family. She would have to wait.
The next song came, filling the space with violins that echoed off the walls, allowing you to take her hands from your shoulders so you could actually twirl her around the room, her skirt swaying in fluid motions around both your legs. You were quite the dancer she realised, feeling her body follow your cues with such ease, not bothering to stop when the door opened and in came Marco with Avis’s martini and your French 75. If he had wanted to comment, he had thought better than to actually say whatever had crossed his mind, keeping his lips tight and slipping out of the room as quietly as he could, not before letting his eyes linger as you spun Avis around, pressing her back against your chest, her hair flying around her like the fire she could make you feel with just a look of her adoring eyes. It was utterly delightful to have this woman that you had never in a million years thought would even look your way, in your arms absolutely relaxed. A moment later Marco came back with the bowl of pastina and the Eggs in Purgatory, assuring you the main course would be out soon along with the bruschette, your eyes twinkling at the sound of that. You hadn’t realised how famished you were until the delicious smell of tomato sauce and chicken broth filled the room, Avis’s stomach growling right on cue. She chuckled, placing a hand on her abdomen as you guided her to the table, the music still playing in the background.
It looked delicious and tasted even better once you had both settled on your chairs, napkins on your laps, forks digging in the eggs. Avis moaned loudly as she took the first bite, her eyes closed and her head lulled back, triggering an utterly indecent response in your body, your knickers pooling at the sight. How could everything this woman did be so positively sexy, no matter what it was, it was an entire research you were willing to perform yourself, no help needed. You imagined a drop of sauce falling right on top of her breast, your tongue aiming to please as you licked it off her skin, several times, to make sure she was perfectly clean, pushing the top of her dress down to reveal that she was indeed wearing nothing, a dream to think she could ever do that. Your thighs pressed together, shaking your head to try and vanish the image so could enjoy the food before Avis had it all. And the eggs were indeed delicious, the acidity of the sauce and the sharp flavour of the garlic mixing with the softness of the egg. By George, Teresa was an angel in the kitchen. In only a few minutes both plates were cleared, though you did not eat much, Avis’s moans were far too distracting, perhaps it was all a ploy so she could actually eat the whole thing while also working you up, killing two birds with one stone. Breaking your gaze from how she was now cleaning up around her mouth with her middle finger, you glanced at the clock. Only twenty minutes until midnight. This time it was Giuseppe who came in around five minutes later with the parmigiana, placing a tray with several bruschette in front of you along with a big ball of mozzarella dressed in olive oil and some basil and salt, giving you a kiss on top of your head. His deep voice spoke to Avis -Buon appetite- before bowing his head, slipping back into the kitchen. You picked up your drink, tasting the gin on your tongue with your eyes on her as she took in the food.
-How was the pastina, Avis? I think I only got to smell it.
-Ha ha, very funny. Do you want us to divide this meal?
-And miss hearing you enjoy them because I’m too busy eating? I don’t think so. Here, try this, I’m sure you have never had anything this good in your life.
The mozzarella dripped beautifully on the plate as you sliced it open, the cream inside the perfect consistency. Picking up a bruschetta from your plate, returning a fallen tomato to the top, you picked some of the mozzarella with a spoon, draping it over the bread before bending over the table with one hand under it to catch any crumbs. Avis bend slightly to meet you in the middle, opening her mouth and taking a bite, her eyes never leaving yours, her lips touching your fingers before she pulled away tasting your creation. The moan that she produced was loud and sensual, like the ones she had made when you had been in the car, her finger picking up a fallen drop of the cheese over her lips, licking the tip without breaking eye contact. The room was stifling now, her hand grabbing your wrist so she could take another bite of the bread, her tongue wrapping around your fingers to lick them clean. She sat back against her chair basking in the way she had you wrapped around her little finger without having done so much as to use her mouth, something that she was very good at judging by your reactions. Picking up your drink you downed it in one go needing to lubricate your throat, the cracked ice cooling your body a little, but only a little.
As much as she was enjoying tempting and driving you mad like this, she wanted you to eat, so she picked up some of the Parmigiana and placed it on your plate before serving herself. Taking her cue, you dived in, the aubergines perfectly cooked, the melted cheese making a beautiful pull as you took a bite, needing to use the fork to break the string. Her exquisite palate had tasted the best champagne, the most expensive caviars, imported meats, and exotic fruits and yet the meal presented to her tonight was the best of them all. It was homemade with love, with care, and maybe the products didn’t cost a fortune, but they were still good, perhaps grown by Giuseppe and his wife. Next time she had to plan a lunch date with Ellen, she would bring her here. You ate calmly, engaging Avis in conversation every so often though the silence that sometimes filled the room was never deafening nor uncomfortable, the music still playing in the background. With the table now filled with empty plates and both your stomachs satisfied there was nothing else to do but wait; only five minutes left until midnight.
-So, what was wrong with Ellen? We got caught up and I never really asked.
-It was pure miscommunication. – she brought the martini to her lips, leaving a red mark on the rim. - Ace usually hires extra security when we do parties at the house, so when I gave Dick the list of phone numbers, the company we usually use was there. Well, Dick did phone them, but they got confused and ended up not writing the address, so when the time came to send the guys down there was nowhere for them to go.
-And didn’t they call to ask where the party was?
-They say that they did but I’m not sure. Dick says that the phone hasn’t rang all afternoon. Anyway, I gave them the address and told them to get their asses over to Dick’s place immediately or we would go without their services in the future.
-But why was Ellen so distraught?
-Didn’t you see the bandage on Dick’s head? The woman was a minute away from needing an ambulance after the fight happened. It’s a miracle she didn’t call the police.  But everything’s alright now, I hope.
-If it isn’t they will have to fend for themselves, because I didn’t tell anyone where I was taking you.
-I’ll drink to that.
The rest of the martini went down her throat, the glass on the table just as Marco came back with an empty tray. Avis was the one to talk with him this time, telling him that the food was magnificent, to give her most sincere congratulations to the cooks as he picked up plates, staking them along with the empty glasses, a gentle blush on his cheeks as he thanked the woman. It wasn’t as if Avis had any trouble communicating with people, her charisma and outgoing personality helped her in that department, but it warmed your heart to see that she was trying her best to connect with your adopted family. None of the boyfriends or girlfriends you had brought here had even bothered to talk with them, probably one of the main reasons you had sent them packing. You didn’t even get the chance to open your mouth though before Giuseppe burst in with a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and two bowls. He was talking a mile a minute, mixing Italian and English in a gibberish that neither of you understood, but he was excited and didn’t care, a short woman with deep emerald eyes and dark hair popping her head through the doors calling for him. She blew you a kiss before pulling her husband out the door, Avis observing with an amused expression how you laughed as you said hi to Teresa. She understood the reason behind the champagne, but she missed why there were two bowls of grapes on the table.
-Y/N, honey, what’s with the grapes? I thought the usual Italian dessert was tiramisu.
-It is, one of many, anyway. No, the grapes are a tradition from my home. – she sat a little bit straighter on the chair, resting her head on her hand while listening intensely to your explanation, her big eyes taking in every word that left your lips. – In the last twelve seconds of the years you are supposed to eat twelve grapes.
-Isn’t that a bit of a choking hazard?
-Yes, but it’s much more fun than it sounds. Eating them all before the New Year arrives its supposed to bring good luck, but now it’s more of a fun game. You just look around and see who’s laughing even before they’ve started eating, who goes hysterical with a mouthful of them, who’s like in a corner eating them without a single emotion in their system, you know, just have fun with your friends and family eating twelve grapes. Some people are pros and finish the bowl way before the twelve seconds are over and then there’s the people who watch that laugh after the New Year has arrived.
-I had never heard of such a thing. I’ve been to so many places and I’ve never bothered with anything that wasn’t boutiques or fancy restaurants. We really do have our heads up in our own asses, don’t we?
-I wouldn’t say that. You are a woman of the world, but I don’t expect you to know everything about every single place you’ve been to, and I know there’s so much I don’t know about your home, Avis but you don’t punish me for it. There’s plenty of time to learn. What I do hope is that you’ll share this tradition with me. I promise the grapes are small.
-Anything for you, honey. And if I do choke, I’ll have you to resuscitate me. Come over here, let me see if you know how to do mouth-to-mouth.
Who were you to deny her proof? Standing from your chair you rounded the table until your body was towering over hers, bending so that your hands were resting on the chair, your mouth inches from hers. Finally, she rose a little from her seat to meet your lips, relief washing over your body like a wave, allowing you to relax in her grip as her hands rested on your hips, drawing you to sit on her lap. Upon feeling her teeth nibbling on your lower lip you opened your mouth, granting her the access she desired. Both tongues battled against each other, yours more lazily than hers, after all, she was the one who thrived in having control over you. Slipping from the top of the chair your hands threaded in between her soft locks, pulling gently. She groaned in your mouth, the grip on your hips harder, pushing you closer to her. Parting after a moment, lungs screaming for air, you heard the commotion outside the room growing bigger, Avis’s eyes looking at the clock over your shoulder. A minute she whispered in your ear. Plenty of time for you to share another kiss you thought, drawing her face back to yours for a few more seconds, tracing her lips with your tongue, removing what little she had left of her carmine.
Not moving from your spot in her lap after breaking the kiss you handed her a bowl before picking up yours, eyes glued to the clock. Thirty seconds. Your heart was racing in your chest with excitement, just like when you had been a kid, waiting with trembling fingers. Twenty seconds. Avis could not help the smile that painted her swollen lips at your enthusiasm, watching as you did a quiet countdown. Fifteen seconds. You picked up the first grape, motioning for Avis to do the same. Fourteen, thirteen, twelve! You popped the first one in, then another, and another, all while chewing as fast as your jaw would allow, eyes focused on the bowl otherwise you would start laughing. Four more grapes went down the gullet but there were still a few seconds left; you could make it. Another one in, and another one and you were practically swallowing them whole, but you were almost there, just three grapes left. Just when you had finished chewing and swallowing the last one the clock struck twelve, howls filling the air around you. With the brightest smile in the world, you tilted your bowl to show Avis only to be made a fool when she showed you hers, lifting the hand that had been on your hip with four fingers stretched.
-Avis! Four seconds to spare?!
-What can I say, I’m a pro.
-Next time I’ll get the big ones.
-And you think I haven’t had anything bigger in my mouth? – God, she really knew what to say to turn you on even further, the fire that had been growing steadily all night practically blazing. - Now my turn for a tradition, American style. -Her lips crashed against yours, her hand on your back pressing you impossibly close to her body. The kiss was bruising but oh so erotic and delightful and you never wanted it to end, but there was a toast still waiting and in that joyous moment when everything was perfect you wondered what she would taste like after having had a glass of champagne.  After a few instants Avis broke the kiss, panting slightly. – Happy New Year Y/N.
-Happy New Year, Avis.
Hurriedly you stood from her lap, pulling her to her feet as you picked up the bottle Giuseppe had left, rubbing the cork before turning to look away from her, a loud pop reverberating along with the record player that was still working, foam and the sparkling liquid pouring out onto the floor due to the pressure of the gas. Avis had both glasses in her hand waiting for you to pour the drinks, watching the foam fill it up and spill slightly, handing you your glass once you had returned the bottle back to the table. Crystals clinked, bringing it up to taste the delicious liquid on your tongue, bubbling up your nose and down your throat. Now was the moment. Once Avis had swallowed her sip you grabbed her by the neck and pulled her down for another kiss, a surprised yelp that soon turned into a quiet moan muffled by your lips as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth without a fight. She was utterly delicious after drinking champagne. The spell was broken by the sound of fireworks, a gleeful look on Avis’s face as she broke the kiss, pulling you out of the room and into the street, the glasses still in your hands. It was beautiful. The night sky was filled with colourful forms and sparkly rainbows, flying over everyone’s heads every second. Both your gazes were glued to the firmament up above, but that did not stop you from taking her hand in yours, fingers interviewed as the sky filled up with golden glows. Nothing had ever been more perfect, nothing would ever be more special, her eyes travelling down to yours watching in the reflection the blue glittery traces that crossed the sky. She had waited enough, and dessert was due. She moved her head to the crook of your neck, her lungs filling up with the gentle traces of your floral perfume, whispering in your ear for only you to hear.
-Take me home and make me feel like a thousand stars. Fill my life with fireworks Y/N.
Her tone sounded almost as if she was pleading, a pang of sadness stabbing your heart, watching how her eyes were filled with both an imperious need for you and a softness that spoke to you in so many levels. Walking backwards into the restaurant, the sky still painted by the colourful display, you did not have to use any kind of force to guide her back to the private booth, the restaurant empty as everyone was out on the street. The record had ended by then, the only sound inside the room being the needle as it scratched over the vinyl, but that was superfluous to you, every ounce of your attention was on Avis. She took on last sip of her champagne, leaving it on the table next to yours, her stole draped over her shoulder and her purse in her empty hand. Your eyes were locked never wanting to break contact, never wanting to stray. You wished to lift her in your arms and leave everything behind, take her to the ends of the world and love her for all eternity, but life was nothing like one’s dreams and yet this moment felt just like one. You pulled out a fifty and left it on the table, thinking that you would not get to see Giuseppe or any of the others before leaving, but just as you were crossing the main dining room Teresa called your name. You turned, but the woman did not ask you to join them for drinks or to wait a bit longer before leaving, she simply approached you, kissed you on the cheek and wished you and Avis a happy New Year, handing the older woman a brown package. There was something in the way Teresa was looking at the two of you that made you think that perhaps it wasn’t so bad to take that leap of faith you had been so scared of, that it was worth taking this risk, to fall in love at last.
You promised to visit soon, telling her that the dinner was marvellous, like always and that it was paid before blowing her a kiss as you still pulled Avis out the door. Getting to the car was no effort, it was as if fate was guiding your every action and aiding you in reaching the final goal, slipping into the drivers sit. People were all around you, but you needed her to know that her every wish was your command and so you twisted your body to meet her lips, a hand resting on her cheek. She melted under your touch, under your kiss, feeling every emotion that you had promised to tell her passing from your lips to hers. She felt renewed with energy, love and lust and everything in between bursting from every pore of her body, not wanting to separate from you, but it had to happen, your body returning to its original position before you turned the engine on. You had considered for an instant taking her to your place, but you had left things everywhere and you did not want to have to tidy up before taking her to your bed, not unless you wanted her to grow cold on you, so you swerved into a side street and drove back to her place. She was confused at first, but upon seeing the determination that had glazed over your eyes, she sat back and relaxed letting you do what you had to do. The gates were closed but not locked, upon Avis’s order, but with a gentle jab from the hood of your car they shrieked and opened, not a soul in sight as you parked right next to Avis’s black Cadillac.
It felt quite familiar to step out of the car and meet over the stone path that led to her front door, but everything about this time was different. There was no hurry, no element of surprise that could interrupt and end it all, it was just you and Avis under the front porch, her hand in yours. The cold air of the night was raising goosebumps on your skin, a shiver shaking your frame, but you did not falter in your stand, taking her hand and placing it on your cheek, kissing her palm. Had this been twenty years ago Avis would have stood under the tiny porch light kissing you before you had to turn and leave her behind, thinking about how she would have had to go to bed alone in that big empty dark house, but it wasn’t the 20s and it wasn’t a random scenario in her head. She could kiss you still under the tiny porch light, gentle nibbles and pecks making her melt against your body, her hands snaking round your neck to keep you in place. She could moan in your mouth as your hands travelled from the shape of her waist down to her hips and then her firm ass to pull her closer to you. And after the kisses ended and you were left standing there panting and incensed, you wouldn’t have to go away, she opened those big doors and pulled you inside. The house was warm and quiet and so very dark, only a few rays on moonlight breaking through closed curtains. Avis knew her home like the back of her hand and she guided you slowly to the staircase, walking upstairs with her hand in yours.
She stopped in the middle of it though when she felt your hands around her waist. She trusted you to not let her fall as she let her weight press against your chest, your head in the crook of her neck. She smelled delicious and you could not help it, you run your tongue the length of her neck up until you meet her ear, kissing the spot behind, your teeth gracing her earlobe. With one hand on the railing for support the other went to the back of your head feeling the curls and pins under her palm, a quiet moan echoing in the dark room as you pulled gently on her ear. She tasted divine, that saltiness that was so her mixing with the champagne from your drink. Her eyes were closed taking in every sensation that you were giving her as your hands teased her breasts through the silk, finger on the hem of the neckline. The way every single peck and caress set her alight was beyond her comprehension, her heartbeats a little bit elevated against her ribcage, her knickers getting wetter by the minute, but there was no rush, she could take far more than what you were giving her; she wanted to burn in your arms. She moved her head to the side, scratching her nails on your scalp, to grant you a better access, a gasp falling from her lips when she felt you tongue licking down her neck and the junction with the shoulder, following the same path back up until your lips curled and sucked on her pulse point.
Her hips buckled to meet yours, her round firm ass pressed against your pelvis, earning a grunt that became muffled by her skin. As much as you were both loving this there was a growing need to reach the bedroom, so much to your dismay Avis pulled herself from your grip, not before turning and taking both your hands. Walking backwards was hard but walking up the stairs all while in the dark was ever more difficult and yet Avis pulled it off beautifully, reaching the landing without tripping not even once. Her eyes had never left yours even if among the shadows there was very little chance of her seeing just how dilated your pupils were, how they were burning with a fire that only she could put out.  The door to her bedroom was just there, not more than three feet from you, but it felt as if you had gone without feeling her for far too long and so you pressed her against the wall, claiming her lips in a bruising kiss. You sucked on her lower lip never growing tired of hearing the way her throat vibrated and her body shook ever so slightly as moans travelled through her open mouth for to swallow, chest pressed against chest, your right hand grabbing and pulling her leg upwards, free from her gown. The lacy hem of her stockings was an obstacle for you, that delectable skin of hers hidden underneath but that did not stop you from fingering the clip that kept it in place before grabbing the back of her thigh to grind against her pelvis. Her response was a curse, the fabric of her knickers drenched in between her legs, but you did not let up, watching as her head lulled back against the wall, her entire frame bobbing up and down as you moved.
She wanted you, needed you to fill her up, to touch her and eat her and love her and make her scream so loud she wouldn’t be able to speak for three days, but the movements that you were doing were just not fully cutting it for her, as sublime as they were. This time though she did not have to push you away, you lifted her off the floor, her legs wrapping around your waist as her arms did the same around your neck, giving a surprised yelp. She had not considered that you could be so strong, carrying her through the threshold of her bedroom, your foot closing the door, her lips pecking every inch of skin she could find around your face, avoiding your lips should she make you lose your grip on her. Your brain was telling you to throw her on the bed and take her, no time to remove clothes, but you let your heart guide you on this, gently placing her over the covers, pecking her lips before stepping back. All the air in your lung vanished as you took in the scene before you. The curtains weren’t drawn letting the silvery beams of moonlight bathe the woman before you with its pearly glows, her olive kissed skin seeming like porcelain under its touch, every freckle, wrinkle and beauty mark glowing like beacons that were calling you home. Her dark fiery locks were untamed, dishevelled from where you had threaded your fingers, framing her as they cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, her lips swollen and so very enticing even without her signature lipstick. That glamorous gown she was wearing had moved slightly around her body, glowing like pure platinum as the top of a black corselette peeked from under the neckline, her breasts practically spilling, bouncing with her rapid breaths. Her body, propped up on her elbows, was spread before you since the skirt of her dress had fallen to the sides, leaving her legs right there for you to feast on and oh Lord, were you going to. But there was another idea in your head that you wanted to do for her before you could satisfy your own needs.
In a slow twirl your back was presented to her, a hand grabbing onto the zipper of your dress, painstakingly pulling it down to let your underwear begin to seep through the garment. You could hear Avis’s breaths picking up at the way you swayed your hips to shimmy out of it, feeling the velvet brush your legs as it flowed to the floor. With graceful movements you stepped out of it, bending so that your ass was in perfect view for Avis, turning your head to look at her while picking up the dress from the floor. She groaned at the sight of your body, her mind racing as her mouth turned dry before it began to water, hypnotised by every little movement you made, from bending to standing back up after leaving your dress over the chair of her vanity. Her heart began to race with each step you took towards her, spreading her legs even further to accommodate you, your body bending over hers, face inches from hers. She rose to kiss you, but you were quick and pulled back, a naughty smirk on your lips when your fingers began to trace her jawline, neck, chest and swells of her breasts, your mouth following the same path though your fingers could not help exploring the skin underneath her corselette. She was plump and soft, and you had buried your head in between her tits many times before but could not get enough of them, feeling her stiff peak with your fingertips. Her noises were positively sublime, deep and rambling in her chest before they made their way out of her mouth in quiet gasps. You moved close to her ear, whispering huskily.
-I believe, my dear lady, that you are overdressed.
The fabric was so smooth under your palms, so undoing the knot on the side as well as the button next to her breasts was like slicing butter, pushing the gown open to free her gorgeous body. And God, what a body it was. It was maddening to have her like this right under your lips, tracing every wrinkle and crease her skin made, and you just simply could not get enough. The fireworks of Sunset Boulevard had ended some time ago, but now there was the booming sound again, in the background, lighting up the room with a soft golden glow. It did not stop you from sucking on her now exposed collarbone, scraping the skin hard, a hissing sound reaching your ears, but Avis prevented you from lifting your head by pressing a hand on your neck, her body falling onto the soft covers. A gentle lick of your tongue soothed the sting, sloppy kisses travelling down to her breasts but there wasn’t enough flesh before your eyes, fingers working on the first hook of the corselette. Her breasts bounced to free themselves and yet you did not continue, simply licked the valley in between them. How exquisite were her moans, echoing off the walls with each suck, leaving bruising marks behind that you knew her husband might find out about, but that didn’t stop you, wouldn’t stop you. If he could not appreciate the woman he was married to, you would take on such a task. Perhaps the sight of the marks would help make Avis understand that she didn’t have to settle for less than what she thought she deserved, which was everything.
Her breaths were so rapid that upon arching her back at the hand of your ministrations another hook came undone without anyone touching the garment, her breasts spilling out of the black lace freeing her pinkish nipples that were hard as rocks already. Hmmmm, your favourite appetizer at last had arrived. Kissing the ample left breast, you trailed down towards the stiff pick, taking it hungrily in your mouth, lapping up and down, twirling it around and around and around, basking in the high-pitched moans that Avis made when you scrapped the tip with your teeth, hips bucking upwards into your own pelvis. It drew out a groan from you, her pubic bone having brushed expertly, but without her actually knowing, against your clit. She knew the effects she had on you, but she had not expected such a reaction from simply sucking her tits, a naughty smirk on her lips as her eyes ogled your mouth with her nipple deep inside it. There was a whine in the air when you popped it out of your mouth, but how could you not give her right breast the same treatment when it was looking at you so readily. Deliciously it fitted in your mouth as if it was meant to be there, sucking so hard you were making Avis scream in hurried pants, her nails digging onto your scalp.
One hand kept your weight off her body but that didn’t mean you could not do several other things with the other, your nails leaving red trails over her inner thigh, massaging the soft flesh to sooth it before repeating the motion. Her legs twitched, trying to close around your frame out of seer instinct, a whimper slipping from her parted lips. It was tempting to tease her until she could not take it anymore, but tonight the plan wasn’t to see up until where the boundaries would collapse, it was to love her and care for her. Your index finger brushed over the lace of her knickers, Avis’s lower lip in between her teeth, feeling not just how wet she was; her underwear was absolutely ruined and drenched and you only wished to take it off and have your main course. It was a herculean effort to pull back, her nipple being released from your mouth in a quiet pop, but she was still quite overdressed in your most humble opinion. On your knees now, you took off her shoes, putting them on the side, massaging the tension on her arches and her ankles, settling on her left leg while carrying on with her calf, the back of her knee and then her thigh. Expert finger undid the clip pushing it out of the way, the silk stocking coming off her leg with your teeth, Avis’s eyes simply blown wide at the sight, the exact same actions taking place on her right leg instants after. Instead of climbing back on top of her though you placed her legs over your shoulders taking your sweet time to kiss trails from her ankles up to her inner thighs, back down and then back up again. She was going to go insane, of that she was certain, every single one of your kisses leaving fire on her skin, but she just could not stop you, she needed every ounce of attention you were giving her, your fingers digging over her thighs as you inched closer and closer to her centre. Just when your kisses had reached the side of her knickers did you move to her other side, sucking and biting hard, drawing out moans and whimpers all while Avis still laid on her back, her hands holding onto the bed covers. Without warning and without care you gave her one strong long lick over the lace, her salty juices on your tongue making you groan against her.
-Fuck!
Her hips buckled against your face trying desperately to get more friction, anything. You knew she needed you, but you were not going to take her like this, you wanted her to have the connection of skin to skin; raising from your knees you bent back over her body. Your hands finished unhooking the corselette, pulling it from under her and throwing it across the room. There were a few red marks left from the garment over her abdomen, and you were sure they probably bothered her, so after kissing her neck, sucking hard on her pulse point, you went all the way down to her sternum and even further, licking each red line making sure to peck the skin once you were contented with the way your saliva glistened under the moonlight, your fingers following the paths of her stretch marks with such a gentle touch you were raising goosebumps over her skin. They trailed down until your fingertips came in contact with the waistband of her knickers, removing them inch by inch all the way down her legs until she was utterly naked before you. The platinum beams that burst through the windows wrapped around her body, enticing, the fire that was burning within you mixing with the absolute adoration you felt for Avis. Her breasts were perky, rising and falling rapidly, her eyes staring hungrily at you. It just wasn’t fair, she thought, she was like a renaissance painting, naked before you with her hair down, dripping for you, and yet you were just standing there, hidden from her eyes. She had to do something about it.
With cat like grace Avis pulled herself off the bed, walking barefoot until she was right in front of you. Her hands ached to be rough, to play with you until you broke in between her fingers and then put you back together, but your eyes were looking at her with such a caring loving glow that she could not bring herself to do it. She put her hands on your shoulder and turned you until your back was pressed against her front, both your figures reflected on a tall mirror that you had not noticed before. Had she got it so she could dress herself for you? She did not give you time to think, her fingers trailing down from your shoulders over to your breasts, squeezing and kneading the flesh under your own corselette. She was delighted that you had dressed like that, not that seeing you in those see-through brassieres was something she would ever complain about, but there was just something so utterly erotic about this outfit that drove her wild. One hook came off, your breasts one step closer to freedom, her lips kissing softly the skin of your shoulder, one hand travelling underneath the black lace that cupped your breasts, the other one pulling on your hair until she had the access to you neck she desired. Your sweet skin was delicious under her tongue, and the bruises that had painted your skin not that long ago were nowhere to be found, so in that spot she decided she had to make sure those marks that had painted your entire body returned. Her teeth bit down on your neck, a yelp mixing with a moan reverberating inside the room, her tongue southing the sting before moving a little bit further down to do the same. The hand that was under you corselette was kneading on your left breast, her thumb brushing on your perky nipple. She was a pro, you knew, so it wasn’t a surprise when she pulled her hand out and with only two fingers did she undo a second hook. The garment was becoming loser around your frame, slipping down a bit more until your breasts were free, Avis’s eyes eyeing them with such desire that your utterly flooding underwear welcomed a brand-new wave of arousal.
-My very good girl is the one overdressed now, don’t you think?
You nodded at her words, her index finger following the line of your cheek down to your neck until she was painting lazy patterns over your left breast, her tongue licking the shell of your ear, biting and pulling on your earlobe. Her thumb passed over your nipple, the hand on your hair letting go to play with your right breast, the motions so tempting, so sultry that made your hips press against her pelvis just like Avis had done with you on the staircase. She played and twirled your nipples in between her fingers, pinching hard, your hands grabbing her naked hips to steady your legs, your throat slightly raw from how she was making you moan. Soon she grew restless of her own actions, unclasping each hook slowly to let your creamy skin come to light until it laid open in her hands. She could not let her eyes stop looking at every single detail of your skin, her hot breath drawing goosebumps, your stiff nipples getting even harder. The corselette fell to the floor, the weight of it pulling your stocking down with it, leaving you with all the fabric bunched up around your ankles. You were going to bend to remove them when a hand right in between your breasts stopped you, pressed you naked back against her naked chest feeling every inch of her ample tits. It was Avis who kneeled this time, the hand that had stopped you before resting right above your knickers now, her legs slightly open, lifting your leg and removing your shoe, pushing it aside, pulling the nylon stocking off.
She was spread for you to see in the mirror, those pink folds glistening in the gentle light of the moon, your arousal through the roof wishing you were already in between her legs. She was not done though; she lifted your other leg removing the stiletto and pulling the stocking off. The offending bundle of garments was thrown across the room, forgotten already as her eyes went for the next step. Her fingers were running up and down your thighs at a teasing pace, kissing the back of your legs, moving over your hamstring until her lips made contact with the skin of your ass, biting down, sucking hard. A gasp left your lips, the feeling utterly salacious and carnal, her fingers kneading the flesh, treading underneath the fabric of your underwear. No one except Avis had ever played with your ass before, this was her thing the same way that playing with her tits was yours. They stopped their motion after a moment, following the shape of your hips until the met at your pubic bone, grabbing and yanking your knickers down your legs. They rested around your knees, her hands busy parting your legs so she could feel just how much you really wanted her, humming in approval when her fingers touched your folds, coating them with your juices. The underwear fell on its own, pooling at your feet as Avis rose to look at you through the mirror, eyes following her hand, watching her lick her fingers clean, groaning at your salty essence.
Turning around to face her you stopped her movement, pulling her hand out of her mouth and taking it inside yours instead. She had not cleaned herself completely yet, the state of her saliva and your arousal the perfect mix around her fingers, tongue twirling and sucking. Fuck being gentle, fuck waiting. You pulled her fingers out with a pop and yanked her arm towards you to capture her mouth once again, your hand on her bare ass cheek kneading and spanking the bouncy flesh, her leg wrapping around your thigh and calf. Kissing her was always an experience but doing it fully naked was just beyond arousing, your need to bite and lick and suck making you draw a little bit of blood from her lower lip, the metallic taste intoxicating, your hands grabbing her other ass fully and lifting her in the air, the bruising kiss never breaking, her hands on the back of your head pulling hairpins out and letting them fall on the floor. You would worry about picking them up in the morning.
You placed her back on the bed, crawling on top of the covers but she broke from your embrace to pull them off the mattress and onto the floor, leaving the Egyptian cotton bedsheets free for her to lay upon. Her hair was fanned out on her pillow as her eyes raked over your body, sitting on your knees, waiting, like the good girl you were. There was a painting that came to mind as you took her in, watching her move one hand to rest above her head, fingers brushing the headboard while the other motioned for you to crawl over to her, a beautiful masterpiece from the 1800s that had transcended time into the 1940s, and space, to lay on this bed. You could not recall where it was displayed, but at the end of the day it was just that, a work on a canvas that you could not touch. The woman before you was real though, solid and positively divine with the way each curve of her soft flesh seemed to have been carved by the hands of angels, her eyes the doors to the Heavens, her lips the gates to Hell. There was no corner of her body that you would not paint, no freckle that you would not kiss and if her body was a forest, you would gladly get lost in it for all eternity. Avis looked like a Venus, like a goddess that you would pray to every day and night and she deserved to be painted and displayed just as much as those priceless works of art, even if there was a part of you that only wanted to keep her to yourself, like a secret that no one could see except for you, every spot in her body only for you to kiss and taste, her sounds only for you to hear. You crawled on top of her, taking her hand to kiss her finger before placing it above her head next to the other, lowering your mouth to peck her gently. The road that your lips travelled was well known to you, every curve and hill memorised; her collarbone, the hollow of her neck, her maddening breasts that you could not help but kiss one more time, and in between every stretch mark in her abdomen and upper thighs.
Her legs parted, granting you access to that part of her body that you desired the most, bending until your chest was practically resting over the mattress, ass up in the air, kissing and licking the soft skin of her inner thighs. There were still a few remnants of the bruises you had inflicted upon her that first night, but there was still plenty of untouched flesh for you to paint. She moaned when she felt you suck, knowing that in the morning her body could be covered in hickeys, not that she cared, not anymore, her back arching off the bed a little, hips moving almost as if they were trying to tempt you. She needed to be patient, just for a bit longer you thought, still giving your full attention to the bruise that was already forming, licking to sooth it before turning to her other thigh, sucking and biting, a hiss mixing with her loud moans. She was always so very vocal, which you adored, and when you came face to face with her dripping folds you couldn’t help but smile. Dinner was served. You preferred something sweet as dessert, but the saltiness of Avis’s juices was the perfect cherry on top of a wonderful night, your tongue lapping the whole length of her cunt with one long swipe. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the feeling of your mouth on her, hips moving against your face.
-God, fuck, Y/N.
The moans that were breaking from her parted lips filled your head, loud and sensual, because how could Avis make any sound that wasn’t absolutely indecent and salacious, your own juices coating the top of your inner thighs. Your nose brushed gently against her clit, a hand shooting to keep you in place as a scream slid out her throat, her nails digging into your scalp, but your movement never stopped, her pleasure building higher and higher. She had had your tongue on her before, and had adored every second of it, but the things you were doing to her this time, the soft licks, nudging her swollen bud prolonging it all, driving her insane with such a caring touch, oh God, it was something else. Every touch sent her a message that she mattered to you, that her pleasure was your main goal, to see her unravelling before your eyes, to drink in her relaxed and satisfied body as if she could be the last thing your eyes ever saw. It made the way your tongue moved a thousand times more powerful, the coil in her lower abdomen burning bright, threatening to set her on fire. With one hand you opened up her folds to grant your tongue access to her entrance, darting in and out slowly at first. The grip on your hair never lessened and the way her hips were moving told you that she needed more, so you gave it to her without a second thought taking her clit in your mouth, sucking so hard that her back arched off the bed, the hand that had been resting and toying with the fabric of her pillowcase, holding hard onto the headboard.
You had never wished you had been born with a cock before, but the sight of her as you gave her one long lick before sitting back on your knees, her dark eyes watching you confused wondering why you had stopped, made you long for one to pound deep into her, to fill her up and feel every inch of her insides around you, warm and velvety. The best you could do was to move your fingers up and down, her head falling back over her pillow, coating them in her juices before plunging them in. She screamed at the feeling of her cunt stretching to accommodate you as you travelled in kisses back up her body, taking her nipples in your mouth. They were your weakness, an imperious need to always play with them forcing you to twirl them and suck hard. Slowly you pulled your hand back giving her a moment before pushing back in, hard, curling to touch that sweet spot with your fingertips, another scream escaping her open mouth, your lips kissing the skin under her ribcage. The taste of her skin along with that of her juices was intoxicating, driving you to move your hand faster and harder against her as your mouth trailed and bit at her collarbones and her neck finally reaching her lips, drawing her into a deep kiss that made Avis’s already fuzzy head grow dizzy. There were so many sensations that she just couldn’t focus, both her legs bending over your hips, the heels of her feet digging onto your lower back. In this new position you could push your hand harder into her by using the power of your pelvis, thrusting once to see if it was any good.
-FUCK! YES! YES!
If it had been Summer the entire neighbourhood would have been able to hear her screams, but with the windows closed her words and sounds were for your ears only. Your hips thrust against your hand once more, her hips moving downwards to meet you, her head thrown back against the pillow as a thin layer of sweat begun to cover her body, your greedy tongue licking if off the side of her neck before biting and sucking hard, leaving a most wonderous hickey right where everyone would be able to see, but Avis was too lost to notice. With each movement of your hips her body bobbed up and down on the mattress, her gorgeous and ample tits swaying with the sinful motions, her moans higher and higher in pitch as she felt her orgasm building, nearly reaching the delicious peak she desired. There was no warning, just you adding another finger, practically slamming your hips against her pelvis, the rhythm you had previously had a bit more erratic, losing yourself in the way she was screaming in your ear, clenching around your fingers so hard, her skin so delicious in your mouth. Your hand would be useless for a day or two with the way you were pushing it knuckle deep inside her, slamming it against her pubic bone, but it was a prize you were willing to pay. With your thumb you circled her clit, playing a game of pressure that could send her over the edge any minute and yet it seemed as if there was something preventing her from doing so. Your mouth kissed behind her ear, licking its shell before you whispered.
-Come for me Avis, see the stars that you begged me to show you.
A shiver run all over her body, like a wave, before the coil in her lower abdomen exploded, an intense white fire spreading through every limb, her back arching of the bed as your name left her lips in a loud scream, her legs trembling and shaking all while the grip on your hair pulled painfully and the heels of her feet dug against your lower back. But there was no real pain, nothing truly hurt, her pleasure the only thing that mattered to you as her hips slammed onto yours, your hand in between them, as she rode out her orgasm. Her vision was blurred, white stars dancing through them, her eyes rolling back with each wave and twitch that coursed through her spasming walls.
-Y/N! YES! YES! YES! GOD, I LOVE YOU!  
Every cell in your body froze for an instant, her body collapsing on the mattress her chest rising and falling in hurried loud pants, arms like jelly as they let go of your hair and the headboard, her legs unwrapping from around your back, though you did not move, hands caressing the skin of her thighs to bring her gently down. Part of you wanted those words to be real, to believe her even if she had spoken them in the throws of passion, but the other half believed they were just that, words, no real meaning behind them, a turmoil of confused thoughts rushing through your mind. Until her eyes opened behind heavy lids and everything turned quiet. Her eyes were so very deep and beautiful, expressing everything so clearly that to you there was no doubt that she had meant it. Her shaky hand caressed your cheek, your body having not moved from being on top of hers, that bright smile shinning all over the room but right now only for your eyes to see. In that sweet afterglow that always left her so very relaxed, so raw with her emotions and realizations, did she allow herself to acknowledge what she felt because this had been the last step she had needed to see that what you two had went beyond mere care and lust. Her heart had been alone in a dark room for years but then you came, with an entire array of Christmas lights and chandeliers and filled it all with light, your heart sitting beside hers, never letting it go from your embrace. This is what love was supposed to feel like, and she would never ever let it slip through her fingers. She brought you down for a kiss, a gentle pressing of lips, and even if it was the simplest one you two had shared, it was the best of them. Upon parting you laid beside her, your head sharing her big pillow.
-Avis.
-Don’t overthink it Y/N. I said what I said, and you know me; I don’t take words back.
-But there’s so much you don’t know about me.
-I don’t care. – in between her thumb and index finger she twirled and played with a lock of your hair, her gaze never parting from yours. They were filled with love, shinning like never before, making you lose yourself in their depth, her warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. It made your chest burst with happiness. -You could be a Russian spy, and I would still love you. You make me feel like a human being and trust me, that’s fucking fantastic; you give my life a purpose, a brand-new perspective. Life is so full of possibilities now that you are here, with me, so many adventures that had never crossed my mind before. All the money, jewels and mink coats that I own could never compare to you making me feel like I’m someone, like I matter.
-It’s so easy to be around you, to care.
-Even though I’m a very faulted woman?
-Everyone is, you just know how to cope with it. You are temperamental but also passionate, you don’t apologise but you make it up to people, you have sat in the back letting others take your spotlight, and it doesn’t seem fair, Avis. I want to give you that, I want you to be up on stage and reclaim it; let everyone adore you. The world is yours and you must walk like you own it.
-I could have sworn I already did that. – her lips pecked your cheeks and jaw bit never pushed further than that, she knew you both needed to talk this out. You felt her teasing smile against your skin.
-Indeed, but what I mean is that you must stop letting Ace treat you like this. Break free from him and his lies and be yourself and if he doesn’t like it, he can go and fuck himself. You have a beautiful soul; you can’t let him crush it and turn you into a bitter woman.      
-I wanted him to love me, to care for Claire, but its as if I’m just an addition to his life, like an object. We’ve been through this shit so many times, but he never changes. – the hurt run deep, her eyes glancing down to your necklace that she had not removed, toying with the metal chain to keep her eyes from locking with yours. That man had broken her so much and so many times, and you could see why she would practically throw herself at the first person that showed her a bit of love and affection. She was emotionally starved. - I had spent so long wanting to be his wife so when I realised that I wasn’t wanted and that I never will be, my eyes finally opened, and I saw the truth. I had confused my wishes, my dreams, for the real thing and seeing that… - she had to stop for a moment, tears threatening to fall, her words choking her up with the overwhelming feelings of shame and sadness. You hated seeing her like this, hiding herself and her pain from you, so your finger moved under her chin forcing her to look up, watching as those crystal drops ran down her cheeks and towards the tip of her nose. Her voice wavered but she still carried on needing to let it all out. - that I had been tricked by life, well, it hurt. It took time to see that this marriage was never going to work, we don’t care enough about each other to bother fixing it. Should you fix something that has been broken since day one?
-No, you shouldn’t. You must let it wither and die, Avis, as much as it may hurt at first. You don’t need him. I will be your husband, your wife, your partner, your friend, your therapist and your doctor. I will hold you and wipe your tears, - your thumbs slid over her cheeks capturing the drops, kissing the soft, warm flesh and removing the saltiness off her nose. The grip she had on your forearms now was bruising, like she was grounding herself on your skin. - laugh at your jokes and tell you everyday of my life that there is not a soul in this world, in this universe, that… I love more than yours.
-You… love me? – her voice held a note of doubt, as if she had heard those words before dressed in deceit, but there was such a deep hope in those glistening eyes that elated you, your face inches from hers, foreheads touching.
-Since the very first time I saw you. All that we’ve shared has only made my feelings stronger, and I’m sure of them. Learning about you, finding out all the little things that no one has bothered to listen to, like you not liking mustard, or that you love going on walks down at the beach when the sun has already set, when the night hides you from prying eyes and you can let your mask fall, simply brings me joy. You are such a wonderful woman, and you have lived things that I could have never even imagined, and I want to know it all. Every single second of your life.
-Please Y/N, tell me what you promised me. What’s the meaning?
-That’s simple. You. – her breath hitched in her lungs, the biggest most sincere smile painting her lips as a brand-new batch of tears fell down her cheeks. This time you let them fall as they held a completely different air around them, a voice in the back of your mind telling you that you had to let Avis guide you on this. With your left hand you pushed her hair back, caressing her cheek with your fingers while rubbing gently on her jaw with your thumb. -People have come and gone in my life and I have learnt good and bad things from them, but they all shared the same trait. They took and took and took so when I was ready to receive, they would go. You take Avis, but you also give so much in return. I have never met anyone who could care this much, who could give like this. It doesn’t matter if it’s a car, or flowers, the things that mean the most to me are the ones that no one would consider, like a bag of food with a note reminding me to eat or you taking the time to talk with Giuseppe and his family. You listen when I speak and remember the tiny little details that no one had bothered with before, like your new shampoo that smells like home. That’s the meaning of happy, simply you.
You tasted the salt of her tears as she pressed her lips to yours, her body pushing you to your back over the cotton bedsheets. With Avis now on top you could stare unabashedly up at her wonderous body, and yet your eyes could only look at hers, pupils blow wide again, lust overtaking all the sadness she had felt, but never the love and joy you had caused to bloom in her chest. The conversation was over, the time for words had passed, but she still bent until her mouth was resting over yours, brushing, tempting, whispering one final question.
-What do you want Y/N?
-Make love to me, Avis.
She could most certainly fulfil such a lovely request, her lips pressing, lingering over yours, the kiss deepening after a few moments of her simply pecking, her legs straddling you with your hands on her hips painting lazy patterns. Biting down on your lower lip she was granted access, her tongue tracing your teeth, sucking and pulling, battling your tongue, earning a groan of pleasure from deep within your throat. Her kisses went down your chin towards your neck. She already knew all the sweet spots that drove you crazy, licking, gracing the soft skin with her teeth until she left you trembling and whimpering, moving on to your pulse point. She was a pro, sucking down hard until there was a bruise identical to the one you had given her, her tongue lapping over the mark to soothe it, although there was a throb in between your legs that she could not soothe, not yet. What a wonderful journey she was taking down your body, her sloppy kisses now in the valley of your breasts, her hands kneading at the plump flesh. You gasped at the feeling, your hips buckling lightly under the weight of her pelvis, Avis groaning when you touched her still sensitive cunt, wet once more. The way her hands played and teased your breasts was maddening, thumbs brushing your stiff nipples, her mouth playing with the sensitive skin around them before finally popping one of them in her mouth. The sigh that you gave quickly turned into moans as she twirled it and sucked, screaming in surprise when she bit down, your back arching, hands holding onto her hips harder all while pressing her down onto you, aching.
Her attention moved to your other nipple, brushing it with her thumb before taking it in her mouth, twirling and biting. The way she took you and played with you was just divine, her fiery lock brushing and tickling, enhancing the thousand emotions and sensations that were overtaking your body, but she still did not stop, although her mouth was now kissing down your abdomen, licking every little stretch mark that you possessed. When she had first seen her own, years ago, she had thought no one would ever want to see her naked ever again, but your body was beautiful, a work of art, and it was also painted with them, and you never recoiled from hers, only made her feel good about them. How could she ever think that they were not sexy when you had them, and she was crazy about you? Her body had moved lower on the bed, your legs spreading to let her sit in between them, her hands rubbing circles on your hip bone as her kisses trailed lower and lower until your pubic bone was under her lips. You were not one to push or beg, you had a certain level of patience, one of the traits she loved most about you as she was an explosive force of nature, so she knew you were enjoying it how much she was making you wait even if she could feel how hot your skin was under her palms.
Her fingers played and walked all the way from your upper thigh to the ankle of your left leg, her hand wrapping around it and lifting, her lips kissing the arch of your foot, pecking the skin of your calf and sucking behind your knee, placing your leg over her shoulder. Her hot breath ghosted over your inner thigh raising goosebumps, making you whimper and close your eyes when her teeth nibbled and kissed up until the joint in between your cunt and leg, your breath hitched in your lungs. She gave you a gentle kiss over your dripping folds, a reward of sorts or perhaps a gentle torture, you were unsure, before moving to your right leg, placing it over her shoulder once she had kissed behind your knee. It was a wonderful contrast how she could taste your sweet skin and the salty tears she had just cried, the happiest tears she had ever shed in her life. She would happily stay like this forever with you in her bed, being loved, receiving every ounce of what she could give, just like she wanted, like you needed. Her kisses on your inner thigh were sweet and gentle, a far cry from the roughness she had showed you that first night, her lips inches from your centre, her breathing tickling you, cooling the juices that were coating your folds. The anticipation was staggering, your breath shaky, your hands holding onto the bedsheets on either side of you for dear life until finally her mouth made contact, and your eyes rolled back.
Her tongue was magical, moving up and down slowly, tasting, drinking in the sweetness of you while her hands pressed against your hips gently to keep you in place. The moans that were filling up the room were loud, great indication for Avis that she was doing perfectly in between your legs, taking one of your folds and sucking hard. Stars were not that far from your vision if she carried on like that, her movements faster now, her fingers accompanying her mouth as she opened you up to her, pushing one finger inside you as her lips wrapped around your clit, twirling it, sending jolts of pleasure all throughout your body. You really did not know how much you could take; you were so worked up that anything she did made your head roll back and your body arch and buckle against her face, but she still pushed your limits a little by adding a second finger, pumping in and out as fast as she could, curling her fingers. When your walls began to clench hard around her, your moans turning to incoherent screams muffled by the pillow as you thrashed your head from side to side, her licks became more applied, harder and more focused around your swollen bud, adding a third finger that stretched you up so divinely that upon feeling her thrust deep inside you hitting that spot, her lips sucking, teeth scraping you became quiet.
Everything was numb and then explosive, white fire and electricity through every limb, hips buckling erratically against Avis’s face. Your body was shaking and trembling, screaming her name until your throat became raw, nearly suffocating her as your thighs closed up around her. You rode your orgasm hard, so hard that Avis nearly had the temptation of carrying on until you were coming around her fingers a second time but decided against it, after all, the night was young. There was plenty of time for her to take you again and again until you became one with her. Your juices coated her face and hand as her pace slowed, her tongue taking it all while being careful not to touch your overstimulated clit. After a few moments you collapsed underneath her, legs releasing her and allowing her to take a deep breath, but she was not mad, she kissed your knees, her hands rubbing soothing circles on the skin of your hip bone as you came down. She wanted to check that you were okay, crawling up your body, your breasts bouncing as your body panted trying to return to a semblance of normality, her lips pecking the line of your jaw and cheeks. Still with your eyes closed you smiled and although you could not see her you were sure she was smiling as well. You hadn’t realised you were still grabbing the bedsheets, releasing them, your hands slightly numb from the strength with which you had been holding onto them, but you still brought them to the back of her neck, lazily playing with her hair.
-You are going to be hoarse tomorrow, darling.
-Hmmmm, words are overrated.
-Not after what you just told me. I think those ones are the most precious ones I will ever hear. – the way her voice laced with care and honesty made you open your eyes, her face a foot above yours, her hair framing her face just beautifully, waves tussled and dishevelled and sightly matted. – I could spend all night hearing you talk about all the things that you love about me, but I would love it even more if I could hear everything about you.
-I would like that. Over dessert?
-I thought I was your dessert. Was I not sweet enough on your tongue?
-Oh, Avis, you were delicious. – you both chuckled quietly before meeting your lips for a gentle loving kiss, her arms snaking around your neck as she dropped on her side moving you so you were still face to face. – But Teresa did give you a package
-Shit, I left in the car! I had other things in my mind.
She pecked your lips before stepping off the bed. God, she was gorgeous. Every curve was just utter temptation under the moonlight, but much to your dismay she covered them with a pink feathered robe, making her way to the door and telling you that she would be back in a minute, leaving it ajar. Your body was still tingling, and you basked in the wonderful feeling for a bit before sitting in bed observing how her dress was bunched up on the floor in between the covers, her underwear everywhere while yours rested a few feet from the full-size mirror. One of these days you would take her while standing in front of it, watch her face contort in pleasure, meeting her eyes through the reflection. You were shaken from your thoughts when Avis returned with the brown package in her hands, closing the door and climbing back on top of the mattress. Her hands were busy undoing the string, yours undoing the knot of her robe, she was far too overdress for all the things you had planned for her, placing tender kisses on her neck and shoulders as you slipped the garment off her body and onto the floor. Avis had stilled her movements, her fingers resting over the cardboard until she felt your hands wrap around her waist, pressing her back against you, finally letting her pull the top open.
-Oh, tiramisu!
-Just like Teresa to give you her favourite dessert. Uh, she likes you, she’s even given us cutlery. – your hand picked up the metal spoon, slicing through the mascarpone and biscuits before lifting it to Avis’s face. – Here, taste the most delicious thing in the planet. - She took it greedily, wrapping her lips around the scoop, lulling her head back slightly, her ear resting against your cheek, moaning loudly as she chewed.
-My God, this is marvellous. I’m going to have to hire her to cater future parties.
-Oh yeah? Am I going to have to worry about you trying to seduce her?
-It would only be for the food dear, only for the food. I would never change you for anyone, and I’ve seen gorgeous actress and actors. None of them hold a candle to you.
-Good, because I would be very upset since… - you pushed her face to the side with your fingers on her chin to meet your eyes, your lips hovering over hers. – I very much love you.
-What? I’m afraid I’m a bit hard of hearing, could you repeat it?
-I… love… you – each word was emphasized by a kiss, the remnants of coffee and mascarpone mixing with her own essence deliciously.
-Again.
-I love you.
-Again.
-Avis, I love you.
Her body turned completely, chest pressed against chest, slipping easily in your arms to kiss you properly, the dessert forgotten at the foot of the bed as she pushed you back over the mattress.
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jaehaeryshater · 1 day ago
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“saera had learned the art of getting anything she wanted from her father: a kitten, a hound, a pony, a hawk, a horse”
art by: @vazdelart on twt
Merry Christmas (or Sevenmas!) from Saera and Jaehaerys!!! The timing of getting my commission back could not be more perfect :)
I always imagined Saera having a whole menagerie by the time she was a teenager, from the amount of pets she received as gifts from her father. Fire and Blood is severely lacking compared to A Song of Ice and Fire in regards to fleshing out characters, but Saera’s love for animals is a small detail that is often overlooked when discussing her character. I wish people did, not even in an attempt to make people like her or see her a good person, it’s just that the more fleshed out a character is, it makes the overall story more compelling to me. The little details make the whole thing seem more real.
I don’t have that much to say regarding meta with this piece, it was a quick comm to add to my Saera collection. My original idea was to have all the animals in the garden with her, but that proved too much detail and out of my budget. So I’ll just have to imagine! I love how Jaehaerys turned out, and how it captures the essence of him lovebombing her. Saera and Jaehaerys’s relationship has always been of particular interest to me. It’s never mentioned that he was a generous person to his other children or that he was frequently giving gifts to any of them besides Saera. I would say that it must have been an intention detail that he singled her out to buy her love so often. I have my own personal theories as to why the little we know about the two of them seem to be so strange, as well has how that culminated in all her bad behavior (spoiler alert: i don’t think she was born a bad person or was a psychopath), but regardless of the reason, Saera and Jaehaerys’s relationship is one of the more significant ones in his life (especially that she was the last person he thought about in his life) and is critical in understanding who Jaehaerys is as a person. You won’t find the stereotypical “Jaehaerys was the most goated king in Westeros and a good man that happened to have very bad luck and worse daughters” opinion here. I prefer to think more critics and beyond the surface level.
I was so happy with how this piece turned out, particularly the fashion. Vaz was great to work with. The sketch was started on December 13 and the project done today. It was all very speedy and a pleasant process. Vaz was open to changes I wanted to make, and kept in mind the references I sent. I would definitely recommend commissioning them, their Jaehaerys in particular is amazing.
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ilikekidsshows · 1 day ago
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This is related to something mentioned on one of your asks (apologies if you did talk about it and I just didn't understand) but do you think calling Adrien a sexual harasser is comparable to calling Marinette a bad leader in terms of criticizing characters?
--
This is literally what I meant with my big rant on people who use “it's all just bad writing” to sweep aside bigger and bigger problems with the show. We're all used to excusing some level of bad writing from this show, but, like, usually people have a threshold for how much bullshit they're willing to swallow. I could excuse Cat Noir not getting the hint, just like I could excuse Marinette following Adrien everywhere and knowing his schedule (this is the actual equivalent point of comparison). They were quirky about it. Ladynoir was mutually flirty even if Cat Noir was too serious with it sometimes, and Marinette's nonsense was often funny. I mostly treated the stalker/harasser takes as opinions. I could see why people would view the characters that way, but I could see enough outside it to look past it. It was beneath my bullshit threshold.
“Marinette does practically everything wrong on screen but we praise her for things she didn't do so she did everything right actually” is past my bullshit threshold. You can't show the exact opposite of what you mean on screen and then claim something different is going on. Ladybug treats her teammates with different expectations, her rules are situational and conditional, she picks favorites, she keeps valuable information from her teammates, making it harder for them to do their jobs. Her failures directly lead to bad consequences. But, because she cried about it and was instantly forgiven while taking no steps to improve, that means she's actually the greatest superhero and leader ever. Like, that's a big plate full of bullshit and I’m done eating it.
Also, like, we really need to take the level of my personal betrayal into account when it comes to willingness to swallow bullshit. Like, Marinette being a bad leader and a terrible hero wouldn't bother me nearly as much if she wasn't also an abuse apologist. Marinette, when faced with the choice between doing what Adrien's abuser wanted and considering literally anyone else's opinion on what Adrien might need or want, picked the abuser’s opinion. Marinette picked Adrien's abuser over him. Like, if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't be near this angry. If Astruc hadn't smugly tweeted about how perfectly this decision ties in with her choice in The Bubbler, retroactively ruining one of my favorite episodes for me, I wouldn't be looking back at all of Marinette's failings and seeing how they led her to that moment. The writers practically invited me to do so. Even fans who still adore the show and Marinette think Marinette turning to abuse apologia makes sense. A lot of Marinette's character flaws lead to her making that choice.
Stalking Adrien > disregard towards Adrien's personhood > not considering what Adrien would want when she makes excuses for Gabriel
Lying/secret-keeping > constantly keeping things from people when the truth makes her uncomfortable or look bad > lies about Gabriel because she thinks it will make Adrien's emotional reaction less volatile
Repeatedly insisting kids are safe with their parents regardless of evidence to the contrary > discounting victims’ testimonies > trusting Gabriel's opinion on how Adrien should be treated
Unequal leadership > treating people as objects to be controlled instead of equals to negotiate with > thinking she even has the right to lie to Adrien about his dad
As you can see, a lot of the patterns of Marinette's flaws lean on attitudes that explain almost too perfectly why Marinette would trust Adrien's confirmed abuser's opinion on things relating to Adrien, even when she sees the sensory deprivation chamber Gabriel put Adrien in. Almost all of the bad writing choices regarding Marinette now connect to one of the worst, if not the worst, moments of the entire series so far. And, because it's all so interconnected and all-encopassing to Marinette's character now that I can't just ignore it. I can't ignore any part of it. The writers are making me question Marinette's integrity all the way back in the first season, because many of her flaws were already established from the start of the series.
In addition to all this, Miraculous functions on Protagonist-Centered Morality, aka, the things the protagonist does are meant to be seen as the morally good thing to do or at least a valid choice even when the consequences are "unexpectedly" bad. Adrien’s “harassment” is never framed as the right way to act, but Marinette’s abuse apologia, disrespect of Adrien’s personhood and abuses of power as team leader are all treated as morally being on the same ground as not doing those things. “Lying to him or telling him the truth will lead to very different consequences with their share of happy and sad moments,” my ass.
Adrien being a sexual harasser, Marinette being a stalker, Marinette being a bad leader and hero and Marinette’s abuse apologia are all bad writing, but not all bad writing is written equally bad, if you catch my drift.
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tonguetiedraven · 2 days ago
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Yukio is a Pragmatic Babysitter and Rin is a Chaos Gremlin
Part two of my Critically Reading about Yukio. Part one is here.
We're going to look over a couple of chapter in this analysis with a focus specifically on Yukio's job and role as Rin's guardian and secret keeper, because god love him, Rin is not a secret keeper.
Have you ever tried to babysit a hyper toddler who doesn't listen to you? Yukio has. It's become Yukio's job at this point.
I also feel I should state that I am writing this as a middle sibling. I have both older and younger siblings and have, like most older siblings, been responsible for my younger siblings more than once. I have also been responsible for my older ones on more than one occasion, often to the point that I feel my own life on hold. But I am now an adult unlike these characters and have proper independence.
( ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ )
When last we left our two leading characters, Rin had discovered he was sharing a dorm room with his twin and that Yukio had basically been set at his babysitter. Yukio had agreed to watch and protect Rin and knows he is his brother's babysitter.
Rin cannot let anyone know he is the son of Satan. If he does, Mephisto makes it seem very much like there will be an execution. These are the stakes they're playing with. The flames cannot be spotted and Yukio is responsible for guarding his brother and keeping those flames hidden. Rin is not to step out of line and ignite.
Should be fairly simple. Just go to school, go to cram school, get your meisters (once Rin learns what those are) pass the exam and certification, and hey-ho, we have exorcist Rin. Do not ignite and don't stand out. That's the end of chapter 2.
Both twins receive these instructions. Both twins do not follow these instructions. One twin follows it to the letter, one twin half asses it.
It is important to understand that about Rin. He doesn't typically go with things he disagrees with, and he is lazy. He doesn't understand anything about the world he's found himself in and thinks the rules and regulations in it are stupid. He is late for classes, sleeps through them when he can, and fails a lot of tests, possibly from lack of studying, though we don't really see a lot of his study habits. What we do see points to him not doing much of any of it until later on in the series when he starts to study more with his friends. (Namely Konekomaru, Shima, and Ryuuji.)
From the get go we know Yukio is smart. He is the sort of straight A honor student that drives siblings nuts for over achieving. When we find out he's had a job and been training since he was seven, it just pushes the stark difference between these two.
Rin: Lost a job in the first chapter of the manga on his first day.
Yukio: Has had a super secret job for two years while maintaining stellar grades. He also doubled up on that job. (Doctor and Dragoon meister.)
Rin: Somehow miraculously passed middle school despite fighting and not attending. Presumably Shirou begged a lot and went to a lot of parent teacher confrences.
Yukio: Graduated with honors and got the position of top student in the new class. A scholarship too.
Rin: Unpopular and prone to fights. People seem to typically dislike him at the first interactions. In a word? Rude.
Yukio: No one is better at being polite and managing that customer service smile at all times. Even Mephisto cracks that façade quicker than Yukio. Very popular with his classmates and praised by his fellow exorcists.
Rin: Won't follow through on tasks he deems dull or unimportant. (Candles are a great example.)
Yukio: Will do the mindless task even if he doesn't want to and will follow orders. (Until much later when he very dramatically won't.)
Rin: Knows nothing about the world of exorcists, Assiah, or Gehenna.
Yukio: Immensely well versed in it.
There are a lot more I could do, but this gives you the idea. These two brothers are immensely different with Yukio being the smarter and better equipped for their new circumstances in most every way.
Chapter 3 opens with Rin reading one of Yukio's mangas and not studying. Yukio takes it back and gives him a book to study.
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First, Rin might have the fire powers but Yukio is the one doing the burns here. Bible for kids xD so rude and pointed. Each of the titles and font choices and illustrations are so good.
Two, the shot of Yukio's exorcist coat and Rin's school uniform is brilliant. The levels of skill and knowledge are right there, beautifully subtle. As is how put together Yukio looks and how sloppy Rin is. Kato does a lot of story telling like this. Details in the design and backgrounds that tell a lot.
Yukio tells Rin to study and is going on a mission. Rin does not want to study and wants to go on the cool mission he is not qualified for. He has no training at all and couldn't sit through a single class without making a scene. All of his demon fights and interactions so far have ended with flames.
Yukio points this out nicer than I would have.
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Rin doesn't listen to the no and will honestly never listen to Yukio's no. At any point. The early chapters set this up very clearly. Yukio, who was given the assignment to guard and lead Rin cannot get his brother to listen to any of his orders.
They go to the Moriyamas' supply shop, and I plan on doing a separate post dedicated to Shiemi and Yukio's relationship later, so we're going to glance over this chapter and summarize it.
Rin is told to stay because there's a lot going on in this shop and you have to be a certain rank to even get inside it. He is told very specifically not to wander around and touch anything, and in typical Rin protocol, he's wandering around by the next page.
This is mostly because he's annoyed and frustrated at Yukio bossing him around. At this point I want to remind everyone that MEPHISTO PLANNED ON THIS. Mephisto the Manipulative King of Time and Space has played this rodeo before and is actively pushing and prodding at his pieces (he has referred to all the characters in the story as pieces on his chessboard) to get them to act certain ways. He wants this tension there. These boys are unknowing pawns in his hand.
Or Rin is at least. I rather believe Yukio is a knowing pawn.
Rin wanders off, breaks a demon warding gate, and gets called a demon by Shiemi.
Rin is indignant about this (his exact words are: "I...I'm not a demon! I'm not exactly human either, but... Don't judge me!!" I can only hope part of that was under his breath, lol.)
Things escalate here and it ends with Yukio manipulating Rin into being a distraction for the demon and exorcising it while Rin flames up and unsheathes his sword.
(I do wonder where the hell Miss Moriyama was to not see this. With her connections she'd definitely tell people about a blue flame boy causing chaos in the garden.)
Importantly three things happen here.
One: another tension between the twins is created. Shiemi. This will be in a separate post but I'm just acknowledging it here.
Two: Yukio shoots someone for the first time and we learn about nutrient bullets. They are magic type bullets that look real and apparently do no real damage. Yukio uses these all the time. Usually against Rin, but that'll be later.
Amazingly, I hear a lot about him shooting Rin and have never heard anything about shooting Shiemi, but then almost no one ever talks about when Shiemi is abused so guess you gotta be someone else for it to matter ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
(I am opinionated on the way fandom treats Shiemi and the abuse, verbal, mental, emotional, and physical that she receives.)
Three: Shiemi joins cram school.
It has been one day of them working together and Rin has already not followed orders and Yukio had to rework his plan to anticipate that and did.
Chapter 4 is all about Ryuuji (my favorite character) and has no real Rin&Yukio advancement outside of Yukio telling Rin he should study like Ryuuji does, but does have an immensely important scene for Yukio at the end.
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Yukio is standing by watching the drama of the reapers and Rin and Ryuuji fighting, and he is very clearly armed. Was he to shoot the reaper or Rin? Place your bets. Bearing in mind he has already failed to shoot Rin once when he did not have nutrient bullets.
Chapter 5 is an Izumo and Shiemi focused chapter and really only shows Rin actually sending for Yukio for back up and Yukio sweeping in to save the day.
Also it's important to note that we are five chapters into this story and Rin has flamed up in every single one of them, a little or a lot, and this one he very nearly did because he was trying to draw the sword in full view of Izumo and Shiemi. Rin also loses his shirt and the manga makes a gag about him trying to hide his tail, but don't forget that he has been ordered to hide who he is. Five chapters in and four of them have had that stipulation and Rin seems to be doing very little to really hide himself.
We the readers see all this through his point of view and symphathize with his choices. He has no training and doesn't know how else to fight anything, and he doesn't know a lot about the world to know what is and isn't dangerous. Each situation feels dangerous and like he has to flame up.
But he also won't study and learn other methods. Three of his classmates in the next chapter will show that they know how to fight a demon like this. All of them are in the same classes and have access to the same materials.
One of them will even step up and fight and be hiding a big secret themselves. Technically four of the classmates are hiding secrets at this point, but Shima is the one that can summon a god with his khakkara and just uses it like a bat instead. So it is possible to not reveal ones self and fight.
Rin had other ways, but as Yukio pointed out, he is a bit stupid and doesn't think things through.
Anyway, chapter six happens and the students are brought to the creepy dorm the twins live in for their 'practice' exams. A fight breaks out because Izumo is a bully and it escalates.
I also have to point out that the fight starts while Miss Angeline the aria teacher is in charge. She walks out of the room and leaves Yukio to deal with it. His coworkers are lazy and not a lot of help. Tsubaki has left a class to fend for itself so he could attend a booty call, and what we see of the others in Kyoto show that there is a serious lack of dependable teachers in True Cross. This directly puts more on Yukio's shoulders. He gets responsibilities from everyone.
The test happens and Rin runs off to try and pull the naberius away form the other students. This was a terrible idea especially when Yukio had just finished lecturing about exorcists not fighting alone. He left the other students to fight the remaining naberius alone and weakened the team. It also heightened suspicion around him when he defeated that demon alone. He didn't know there was a second, but he didn't do anything to check or make sure they were safe.
He reveals himself to Igor Neuhaus, the magic circles and summoning teacher, and that is the important beat for this chapter as far as the twins go.
Chapter seven is one I want to slow down and focus on because it has a lot of twin development and Yukio development. He's been more in the background for the last few chapters, and he shines in this one.
Post certification exam, Yukio catches Igor Neuhaus in the office and calls out to him.
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We learn a few interesting things here. One, Yukio is a king at pointed business talk. All stern politeness here.
Two: Neuhaus knows who Rin is, Yukio knows he knows who Rin is, and they both know he swore to keep the secret. Rin knows none of this, of course.
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Neuhaus gives Yukio some awful news. Mephisto Pheles told him to do it. To push Rin specifically and to try and make him feel in mortal danger push him to use his powers.
Yukio has been told to stop his brother and now he finds that the Demon King who ordered him to do that also told someone else to do the opposite, and Neuhaus knows Yukio is supposed to be the breaks but Yukio did not know Neuhaus was meant to be the gas, meaning that Pheles did not share equal information.
If he didn't tell Yukio that, it is like he has kept a lot else secret.
Yukio goes entirely into serious mode and lies.
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Yukio very rarely believes anyone, and he doesn't believe Neuhaus.
Rin has, at this point, not shown himself in control of his emotions and only sort of shown himself in any kind of control of his powers. Yukio knows this first hand and has had to do most of the dealing with Rin's inability to do either of those things. He is the one cleaning up each of the messes and distracting everywhere he can so Rin isn't revealed.
Yukio will unhesitatingly lie to protect Rin and to misdirect when needed. We learn this early and cannot forget it. Rin is not always a dependable person to lean on for pov with his quick and often inaccurate assumptions, and Yukio is not always telling us the truth. These characters require us to pay attention.
More Yukio and Shiemi stuff happens, and we'll cover it later. It's enough to say he's trying to get Shiemi to decide if she wants to be an exorcist or not.
In the middle of their tea this happens.
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Yukio has killer instincts. He is always thinking and analyzing something even if he looks to just be enjoying tea and smiling like all is well. Keep that in mind when you're reading. It holds true even when we're not viewing a scene from his pov.
It seems to hold fairly true for this scene as we see the next several panels showing Neuhaus seeming to stab a sleeping Rin, but psych! Yukio had already moved Rin and Neuhaus stabbed a pillow. Yukio is standing there behind him with his gun cocked and Neuhaus has walked into his trap.
Neuhaus summons a lot of hands and runs off and Yukio gives chase. They get to the roof and Rin wakes up, gets an explanation from Shiemi, and runs after both of them.
On the roof Yukio is trying to demand answers and not getting them. It is chapter seven and this will be an immense drive for Yukio. He will keep asking questions and keep not getting answers.
This too I think is a manipulation of Mephisto, and why Mephisto wanted Yukio to know that he gave Neuhaus the orders to be Rin's gas.
Anyway, Yukio seems to be losing (he isn't) and Rin arrives on the roof to take on the summoned monstrosity that Neuhaus created, and Neuhaus, and Yukio is left to his own devices. Rin is getting hammered and looks to be losing, and when things get terrible--
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Yukio does what he was clearly planning to do the entire time and just breaks the chalk circle with his foot. Neuhaus himself told the entire class to do that if a summon gets out of control, and Rin even tells Izumo to do this.
This is probably the most useful thing we have learned in class and almost everyone makes this mistake at least once in the manga. Everyone but Yukio.
Neuhaus keeps trying to kill Rin and Yukio pleads with him to stop because Neuhaus is now at the dangerous point of blood loss and will probably kill himself in this endeavor. Neuhaus doesn't stop and stabs Rin through the gut with a summoned arm.
Rin diffuses the situation by telling Neuhaus he can take it and to keep dishing it out if that'll make him feel better, and Neuhaus walks off not to be seen again for quite a while.
Yukio hurries forward to do what he always does when he's frustrated. Lecture because Rin didn't listen to him and put himself in danger.
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There are two thins I want to discuss here.
One, Rin sees no problem with just being torn the hell apart in a fight if it saves someone else from being injured, regardless of whether it is the best method forward. He sees himself as being able to take it so why bother thinking things through further than that? He can take the hit so he will take the hit and someone else can figure the rest of the plan out.
Two, Yukio will continue to grow more and more frustrated with this part of Rin and with any situation where Rin refers to himself as demonic or seems okay with the 'monstrous' parts of himself.
He does not want Rin to be a demon. He cannot accept the blue flames and what they mean for both of them. He doesn't want to see this part of Rin. He is obviously grateful Rin is healing, but it means Rin is more and more demon.
Shiemi comes up and berates Rin for bleeding all over the place and fighting her on patching him up. That leads to this:
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This is about more than Shiemi picking the meister and choosing to be an exorcist. As an exercise on critical analysis, and a nod to teacher Yukio, I'd like to ask what you think it means for him as a character. What all is he referring to? What has Rin done that he can't? How does this further what Kato has already shown us about how these brothers see each other? Do you think Yukio's assessment is accurate? A bit rosy? A bit harsh?
The students all get told their exwires now and Mephisto pays for the cheapest kind of dinner as a reward. We know this is cheap because the poor students will continue to eat here because they be broke.
The chapter ends with this scene between Mephisto and Yukio.
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Now I skipped over it, but in chapter 4 Mephisto called Amaimon the Demon King of Earth over specifically to continue testing Rin. He'll show up in a few chapters to beat the hell out of Rin.
Mephisto is openly lying here. He knows it and Yukio suspects it, and the way he is staring at Mephisto makes it obvious they both know Mephisto is full of shit.
Yukio is, as ever, polite. Polite and the slightest bit threatening, and thus the pawn pieces are moved and this pawn piece is showing that he is aware of the manipulation and not promising to be a compliant piece.
These handful of chapters set up a reoccurring cycle for the twins that is vital to understanding Yukio. Rin is impulsive and reckless and always putting himself and his secret at risk. He is wildly careless about his secret and it will result in his sword getting stolen, his flames being forced out, Shiemi nearly being crushed by a lot of rubble, and a large group of exorcists seeing him walk off a hard headbutt from a cat the size of an eighteen wheeler. And that's just a flyby of two chapters.
Over and over and over again Rin disobeys his directions and does what he thinks is best and it is usually on others stepping in to get him out of the situations. He has the power to probably handle things himself, but he is not to show that without forfeiting his life.
And likely Yukio's, thought Rin doesn't ever seem to think about that and might have changed his ways if he did.
Yukio is shown having to always stay on his toes and constantly be on guard against outside threats trying to manipulate Rin and Rin's own naivety or stupidity almost revealing him. Each chapter is pushing more and more responsibility on Yukio while Rin thinks of himself as getting more and more capable, though he has yet to show he is trustworthy.
He is loyal and willing to take any hit and won't stand by to watch violence, but that doesn't mean one can trust him. Yukio can't depend on him to follow any direction given and it is causing the weight of their shared secret -- that they're the sons of Satan and Rin has Satan's flames -- to fall unevenly on Yukio's shoulders. He is the one having to cover the tracks and manipulate the narrative and throw distractions to keep this secret.
It is important to bear this in mind when looking at Yukio as a whole. They are both the same age and both students at this school, but never once is Yukio treated as being the same age or treated as another student. He is always looked at to be the adult and responsible one. The one that should have let Rin know something or should have stopped something from happening. Always held as the responsible party for when things go wrong. Always the one looking a little deeper and not taking things at face value.
And this is just chapter seven.
I'll try and get us through to the forest training camp in the next installment, but we'll see how that goes because Shura is about to show up and make all of this deliciously more complicated.
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tubbytarchia · 2 days ago
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Honestly, the whole idea that "if you criticize scott you're homophobic" is so terribly problematic. Basically giving him blanket clearance to do anything or say anything and if you criticize it, well, you're just homophobic. I can't imagine that's a good mindset to have as a person, let alone to see someone having as an impressionable young person.
I'm sure scott is a lovely guy in person but seeing how he acts online, frequently as a holier-than-thou type character, and looking down at others, like saying he interrupted a canon event by preventing scar and jimmy from pairing, is just upsetting. I find myself as the same as character joel in the life series, rooting for his death.
Something else that has really irritated me in the life series is how often he gifts deaths to other people. He did it so much in limited life. He literally gave every one of his deaths in secret life to someone else. And he acted so smarmy about it, too, like "oh I am taking this precious life and graciously giving it to you because otherwise I might never die to anything".
I was really happy when most of scott's deaths in wild life happened out of his control, like yes you are exactly the same as everyone else. Stop trying to act otherwise. Anywise thanks for being open about criticism. I don't know if I ever thought about toxic positivity until I saw you talking about it!
Oh I have so many thoughts on Scott's self-sacrificial nature. The toxic positivity is much more prominent on twitter but does still rear its ugly head on tumblr too. Especially concerning Scott's character, which I agree with you on. Him giving up his lives is doubly interesting and in the same vein frustrating to me because half the time it doesn't necessarily even leave the recipient better off
Gem did not want to kill him in SL, but because he has a martyr complex, he made it happen anyway, disregarding Gem's hesitancy. I'm sorry but to me, in that moment he was thinking about himself first and Gem second, which is how I think he regards every single one of his sacrifices. Especially when you contrast that with the Mounders, where Pearl rooted for Bdubs (and Joel but mostly Bdubs) and suggested herself being killed for Bdubs once things got dicey, but it never coming to it. Pearl so deeply wanted for Bdubs to win, and Bdubs, although not very confident, wanted to as well for Pearl. There was never any pressure involved in that unlike Scott's last minute and frankly kind of random sacrifice. He wasn't that low on hearts and Gem would have stood a much better chance against Pearl and Scar with him by his side
In Wild Life, Pearl didn't feel good about taking Scott's life, and Scott basically said he was doing it to quell Pearl. Something also about the fact that Pearl wanted to decide how to do it, just as some remnant of control when she really didn't have any for almost the entirity of Wild Life
In Limited Life, Scott was ready to give up that life he'd promised Jimmy, but then used it to try and coax Jimmy into telling him he loved him. And Jimmy has had a few other people give up their lives for him, Bdubs out of selflessness and Ren out of a promise for an allyship. And yet the only sacrifice Jimmy has even referenced after the fact, is the one Joel had planned but didn't even succeed with. That holds more importance to Jimmy than Scott's sacrifice, which I think says something
And of course, Scott blowing himself up in Double Life. Because Pearl deserved the win more than he did, he says without giving Pearl much opportunity to speak, taking control of the ending that was supposed to belong to Pearl
It's all very interesting to analyse, his character is super intricate and unique in this sense, but it does unfortunately become more frustrating paired with his unchanging selective framing of events and putting down of other characters through no wrongdoing of their own etc
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eternal-love · 17 hours ago
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A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS
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Pairing: Austin Butler x Female!reader
Summary: Austin is your grumpy boyfriend who doesn’t like your Christmas parties. But he really does like fucking you when people are over.
Warning: smut. Unprotected sex. Oral sex (fem receiving).
Note: it’s the best fucking time of the year. And I wanted to write something for you guys as a Christmas present because I love u guys so much 🫶
Not my best work, but it’s a simple gift.
The gif is of course by @aust-een, my girl. Props to her for helping me with the gif set!!!
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It was the best time of the year, at least to you it was. Even the air changed during holidays, you loved the whole concept of holidays. Your family were as obsessed with holidays as you were. Your house became your main focus during your holiday break. You lived in a small but cozy home.
You had been baking cookies when he came to visit you.
‘Thank God I don’t live with her.’ He thought as he walked through the foyer of your house. Filled with garlands and lights. After overly-criticizing your Christmas decor he smiled at the sight of you. “Hey, babe…”
You smiled at him as you stopped putting sprinkles on the cookies. You rushed to him, wrapping your arms around him.
“I thought you wouldn’t come and see me.” You smiled up at him, taking in the scent of his cologne.
“I wouldn’t miss it. And I also brought you what you asked for.” Austin said as he lifted up a bag of chocolate chips.
“God, I love you. Thank you.” You pecked his lips, but with his free hand he held your jaw there as he kissed you back passionately.
After a while, you pulled away. Time was on you, you were holding a small gathering with your girlfriends later that day. He was annoyed by that, he had wanted today to be a date-day. But of course, your girlfriends were always a priority too.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for the party?” You asked Austin. But then again, it was going to be filled with just women.
“Being surrounded by tipsy women? What a nightmare, baby. I’d rather be locked in the bedroom.” Austin said as he caressed your cheek.
“Rude.” You slapped his chest playfully and he chuckled. You pulled away from him and sat down on the table again, you kept decorating cookies and cupcakes.
“I’m going to lay down in your bed, and watch some shitty tv. While your stupid friends and you watch Home Alone or whatever.” Austin told you, he took a seat right by your side. He reached out for a cookie and shoved it inside his mouth.
The white frosting smearing all over his lips, as if trying to tempt you, he licked his lips and then his fingers, staring right at you.
“What?” He played dumb, he kept sucking his finger to lick any excess of frosting.
“You’re tempting me…” You said, before he leaned in and took your lips in his, his kisses being warm and wet. Instead of butterflies you could say you felt snowflakes, appropriate for the holidays.
He lifted you up and made you sit on the table. He was in between your legs, devouring your mouth. He didn’t even hesitate before kissing down your neck, getting on his knees and parting your legs.
“I bet you’re as sweet as the icing…” Austin muttered as he rode down your underwear.
Oh; Austin ate pussy like a starved man. Like a thirsty man stuck in a dessert, where pussy was the last drop of water.
His plump lips pecked your cunt, then with his skilled tongue, he gave you a long lick. Making you throw your head back. Your hand going to tug at his sandy blond locks. He grunted.
His tongue was skilled, he could move it in ways you didn’t know it was possible.
“Yes… just like that.” You were able to moan out. He kept parting your legs with his hands, griping your thighs as hard as he could. Probably leaving bruises.
It was like he was going down the chimney, and it felt so fucking good. You wouldn’t mind being his Mrs.
You felt yourself getting closer to your release, as your moans began to quicken, whimpering as well. You started to roll your hips forward, if only he had been laying down. You would’ve ridden the fuck out of his face and he would have allowed it, of course. If that meant tasting your cunt, drowning in it was his dream.
You tugged at his hair one more time as you really approached your orgasm. Not wanting him to stop pleasing you, you could only get aggressive.
“Just like that, yeah… don’t stop.” You were able to moan out, grinning your teeth. That’s how worked up he got you.
Austin decided that even if he felt his tongue go numb, numb, numb, he would make you finish. And after a while, you finished all over his face, again, he devoured your cum as a starved man., he pulled away from your cunt and took deep breaths. Before standing up and leaning down to kiss you, making you taste yourself.
“As sweet as I imagined.” He whispered as he pulled away slightly. He was definitely still out of breath.
You were worked up too. A bit dazed still. He had just tongue-fucked you on the table, anyone would be dazed.
“Now, that was on my wishlist.” You chuckled out, smiling at him.
“The stocking are always better on the floor anyways.” Austin smiled, oh, he was horny as hell by now. But your friends would arrive in probably less than thirty minutes. He wouldn’t risk it.
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All throughout the party you couldn’t concentrate. Just knowing that Austin was down the hall, doing God-knows-what, probably jacking off while you were here, still turned on. But having to keep a straight face for your friends while they spiked the eggnog.
But at some point you couldn’t handle the ache, the desire, whatever you were feeling. So you sneakily made your way down the hall, you entered your bedroom and Austin was laying there, plain white tee on, his jeans, no shoes. Watching some shitty movie.
“Woah, what are you doing down here?” He asked in confusion, you were never one to leave your own party.
“I want you to fuck me.” You blurted out, as you were quick to start unbuttoning your dress. Austin smirked as he sat up on the bed.
You didn’t even let him speak, you were already on top of him, your lips on a battle against his, grinding against his pelvis, feeling his already growing erection.
You pulled away, he was biting your lower lip. Oh, he adored you.
“You’re gettin’ coal this Christmas.” He groaned. With your free hands, you undid his pants.
Austin was quick to discard his pants and underwear, he didn’t need them anyways. Your underwear’s gone too, the man was a magician, that’s for sure. He sure knew how to take them off.
His hard cock already teased you. Austin had a huge North Pole. And you were thankful for it. Not many women could rejoice on the fact that their man had a big dick. You were the luckiest out of your friends.
You got into position, so horny and wet that you didn’t need anything to make it enter. You were a vixen tonight, and you would take your man for a ride.
As soon as he was slowly entering you, you saw his face contort in pleasure, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
“Be quiet, you don’t want to ruin your fucking party, don’t you?” Austin said, his jaw clenched as you slowly sat on his cock, he was feeling the warmth of your cunt.
“Mhm…” you whimpered in response, your hands went to his shoulders as his hands went to your waist.
He was so deep in, he thought he would come just by you taking all his cock that good. You started moving your hips, rolling them, riding the hell out of Austin. Quiet moans and grunts escaped the both of you. You had to be quick, you didn’t want your friends to hear you fucking your man.
But Austin, if he could, and if he wanted to ruin your goddamn party, he would’ve fucked you until you were screaming his name.
“Taking me so well.” Austin told you and you rode him. “Poor Santa is going to know you’re a bad girl.”
He mocked your love for the holidays. You didn’t even answer, as you were too concentrated on getting off. The way your face contorted and the way your mouth was open to let out moans and whimpers only made everything more exciting. Also, your friends being down the hall. It was the perfect boost of adrenaline.
“Made specially for me. And no one else.” He moaned, his hands guiding your hips. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with the old man…” he breathed out, oh, he was in heaven. “…so that you ended up being my present.”
Just him saying that pushed you to the edge, but then, with his thumb he started touching your clit. That’s when you knew you were in for a goddamn ride.
He was rough, making you moan louder than you ever wanted to. You were sure your friends heard you.
“Let ‘em hear you. Let them hear how much of a Christmas slut you are. How much you’d rather get…” his voice cracked as you rode him so well, he found himself getting closer and closer. “…fucked by your man than watch your silly movies with them.”
Another loud moan escaped your lips.
“I do rather getting you to f-fuck me…” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck, your breathing on his neck.
“At least you’re warming me up.” Austin grunted, his hands went from your hips to your ass, squeezing it, making you go as deep as possible., his hips bucking up.
That’s when he hit that sweet spot.
“Austin!” You moaned, it was a pornographic moan. One that only a pornstar could do. Yet you were doing it, one calm evening when you’re friends drank hot chocolate in your living room.
Austin started chuckling, he wanted to see you try and act normal once he made you finish.
But soon enough he felt himself getting closer too. He kept bucking his hips until inevitably, he finished inside of you, you rode down your orgasm. Laying your forehead against his.
“Go back, go.” Austin said as he softly shoved you onto the bed.
No after care today. He was still very much annoyed at your Christmas get together.
“But-“ you tried to protest, you could stay here but again, your fucking friends were probably already waiting for you to go back, but they most definitely heard you getting railed.
“You organized this. A host should never leave their invites.” He said with a smirk.
Knowing that what he said was true, with wobbly legs, you tried to put on your dress and act normal. But as soon as you were going to get yo form bed again, he grabbed your arm.
“We’re not finished yet.” He told you.
Of course, it wasn’t over just yet. His package was too big to gift-wrap. He’d probably bed you a thousand more times to be satisfied.
And you wouldn’t even complain, after all, you needed that Charles Dickens like you needed air to breathe.
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miraculouslbcnreactions · 8 hours ago
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One of the problems I had with the online radicalization of Jalil in reunion is how it actually occurs. Jalil is supposedly radicalized by a message board, but it’s provided by alliance and the AI mascot he uses is Lila. So it’s left muddled on what exactly is happening here.
Is there really an internet based opposition to LB and CN? You wouldn’t think it since Paris enlarge is shown to still support them. But the presence of message boards would imply at least some support for monarch even if it’s mostly trolls. Or is alliance fabricating it for Gabriel to upset people in a targeted way? Or is it just Lila with a bunch of alt accounts? It’s really hard for me to tell just how wide spread this is as a problem for Paris considering it’s dropped after this one episode.
I'm also not sure how seriously we're supposed to take the criticism shown in that episode. It feels very much like the sort of BS we get with Su-Han where he points out a legitimate concern but in the most obnoxious, inflammatory way possible so that the audience feels forced to disagree with him. It's terrible writing that isn't very fun to watch. Reminds me of all the awful live-action Disney reboots that try to engage with every critical take anyone has ever had, leading to a lesser story. They would be much better off to just ignore the criticism they don't want to properly address and have fun with the story even if there's an arguable flaw. That's what suspension of disbelief is all about!
You want Paris to support Ladybug and Chat Noir no matter what they do? Cool! That works! Just don't take an episode and introduce the idea that there is actually criticism out there because that makes us start to question things like anon is doing here.
Another great example is the "issue" that Gabriel never uses the butterfly miraculous to heal his wife when it feels like that should be within its power. The show was totally correct to never address that on screen because the butterfly probably should be able to heal her! The reason it can't is because then the show would end. If the writers tried to explain an in-universe reason, then it would be as nonsensical as their explanation of how the rooster works:
Gabriel: There! (to Orikko) You! You can grant me any power I want! (closes the Grimoire and walks toward Orikko) You will give me the power to travel through time! Orikko: No, you're mistaken! Time travel is Fluff's power and I can't grant the power that already belongs to another Kwami! Gabriel: Are you trying to deceive me?? Orikko: (nods) By all means! Read the Grimoire again! (Gabriel reopens the Grimoire.) Sass: Each Kwami represents a concept, and a concept can only exist once in the universe. Xuppu: Too complicated, Sass! Let's use an example to make things simpler. Take Tikki, she is the Kwami of Creation, and creation is creation, and if there's another creation than creation, then it's not "creation", it's "replication"! Gabriel: Then grant me the power to locate Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous! Orikko: Trouble is, that's not a power; that's a wish! Xuppu: For instance, if I asked Santa for a pair of socks, that's a wish. But if I want Santa to grant me the power to knit socks, then it means Santa needs to know how to knit socks in the first place so he can teach me! Gabriel: (groans angrily) Grant me the power to unmask Ladybug and Cat Noir's secret identities! Xuppu: No can do! Orikko: (shoves Xuppu away) I cannot give a power that would disrupt another Kwami's magic. And being able to conceal the person behind the costume, well, that's part of the magic of their Kwami. Gabriel: (enraged) So you're utterly useless!
If all of this is true, then how do the goat and the peacock make things? Isn't that Creation? And how was the butterfly able to make a time travel villain? That's Fluff's power! And how was Gabriel able to offer to make Marinette into a villain who could unmask people via the butterfly? That's going against the miraculous' powers!
The answer is simply that the lore was not thought out in a way that stands up to even the most basic questions. When that's the case, the only way to handle the problem is to just ignore it. Keep your on screen explanations as shallow as your lore. Don't try to add depth that isn't there. Trying to address it just highlights how shitty your world building is.
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lullabyes22-blog · 2 days ago
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First of all, I just wanted to say how much I love your Arcane fics. I’ve been following FnF since I stumbled across it at 10 chapters long, and it’s been a wild ride since! Like a lot of people I’ve been all over the place with my feelings regarding season 2, but as far as I’m concerned FnF is my season 2 (and 3, 4, etc.) lol. You’re a gift to this fandom. Thank you for sharing your brilliant mind and imagination with us readers ❤️
You’ve answered some what-if asks and shared other Arcane thoughts on this blog before, so I have two questions for your consideration, but no pressure to answer either of them!
1. As a fellow writer, I’m in awe of the scale of FnF and the amount of planning/outlining that must be involved—HOLY SHIT! Are there any elements of s2 that have inspired you as you continue to write FnF? Have you considered adapting any s2 elements into later chapters (beyond what you’ve already predicted), or have you held fast to a specific Vision throughout the duration of this writing project?
2. Not sure if you’ve been asked this in the past, but what the hell would a living Silco’s reaction be to Vander’s hellish resuscitation as Warwick, assuming he isn’t immediately mauled in a confrontation?? Is Singed (assuming he’s the culprit) definitely fired??? This feels like such a MESSY terrible horrible no-good very bad situation for everyone involved lmao, and I would love to know your thoughts.
Aaaaah thank you so much! I'm super happy you're enjoying the story! I've been having a lot of fun with it, and I'm glad so many other folks are having fun with it as well <333
Also deeply honored you'd consider FnF in any way adjacent to canon material; that means so much T_T Especially since my own feelings on s2 are pretty mixed, and I'm not really sure what I would even do with those ideas, except maybe throw them out as a one-shot sometime down the road.
1. In terms of the s2 inspiration, I will say I was not the biggest fan of the plot's coherence/cohesion as a whole (too much stuff going on in too little time, too many threads left dangling etc). However, I was very gratified by the thematic journeys of the characters in S2, as in FnF they're actually following a similar trajectory (except for Silco who is, well, dead), and a lot of the same conflicts and themes are coming up. There was a happy sense of vindication that came from that, like, "Oh, so this was actually important, and not just me making a fanficcy mountain out of a molehill."
I will say though, that FnF has its own pretty airtight-ish plot, with many aspects already sketched out in advance, so I'm not going to go re-plotting things to match s2's direction unless and until it becomes necessary. In some ways, tbh, there's a sense of gleeful overlap, as a lot of the plot beats do mirror one another. (The Black Rose make an appearance by Act VII, there's a greater emphasis on magic and high fantasy going forward, Jinx is in the grip of an identity/existential crisis and Vi is stuck at a crossroads, Jayce has become disillusioned and split with Mel, Viktor has retreated underground and will be withdrawing deeper into his work, Ekko will be the one to snap Jinx out of a critical juncture and save Zaun in the long term, Sevika will take a greater leadership role etc...) All of the parallels if not the outright similarities were pretty satisfying.
As for how that's manifesting, a lot of the major developments and character arcs going forward are largely set in stone, but I do have a few key S2 events/details I've been mulling over in the background that I can see myself weaving into the plot at some point. But the rest is probably best kept as a surprise :>
2. As for the hellish resuscitation, well, I'd be lying if I said I haven't been thinking about that one a lot hehehe...
But long story short:
Singed is 100% fired because there is NO WAY Silco would sanction such a thing - and if it occured in the FnF universe, then Singed was absolutely doing it behind Silco's back and will now face the full consequences.
 As for Warwick himself - he'd 100% retreat to Silco and Vander's little Brokeback bunk in the mines. And Silco would 100% don his old mining duds and dustry greatcoat and go looking for him, because he needs to be SURE it's not just a rumor, and also because he does, subconsciously, desperately want it to be his Vander. And Vander, who has a good measure of the old Vander's memories, and is 100% aware it's not a rumor, because hello: deranged wolfman, will 100% run towards Silco with every intention of tearing him to pieces.
And that is where the similarities end.
Because Vander is too deeply trapped within Warwick's killer shell, and is therefore incapable of having an emotional reunion with anyone, and because Silco is not an idiot and would never go into a skirmish without a loaded gun and an escape route, the end result would be bloody, messy and tragic.
Worst case scenario: both men would kill each other, and in their final death throes, find boyhood memories resurfacing. They'd die in tears, messily and bloodily entwined, but finally at peace with their own demons - which is how Jinx and Vi, teaming up similar to S2, would find them.
Best case scenario: Silco would find Warwick and be forced to try and capture and contain him. He'd enlist Sevika's help and succeed, but when Jinx finds out, she'd be appalled and retraumatized, and convinced Silco is trying to erase her dead dad and supplant him in every sense. She'd go off the rails and have a complete breakdown, and Vi would be the one she'd run to, because Vi is the only person who understands and cares. The sisters would end up teaming against Silco to try and bust WarVander out, and this would cause an irreparable rift between Silco and Jinx.
Cue mass destruction and an epic family feud.
Sevika, who'd be the only person left in Silco's circle of trust, would have to make the call to have Warwick quietly killed in order to save the city from a war, and then lie to Silco, telling him Vander succumbed to his own madness and perished. This would cause Silco's mental state to completely disintegrate. He'd lose what little sanity he had left, and would descend into a pit of guilt and grief.
 Either way, it's a pretty awful tragedy on both sides, and it would take the entire remaining plot of FnF to resolve the fallout, and for Jinx and Vi to find any kind of peace.
So you can see why I've been mulling a lot, but also left it alone haha.
But who knows?
Maybe the story will change my mind, or I'll be struck by some miraculous idea and figure a way out, though I'm doubtful.
Thanks again for the lovely words and thoughtful questions! They really mean a lot <3
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I didn't really feel like I was living in an adult body until I started T.
I think there's a tendency to focus in on the very young trans people and the most "cringe" among us, and apply their experience to everyone.
Young trans men are boys. They're still children. So this applies the analysis of "delayed childhood" to people who are still children and then extrapolates that onto the entire community, which is also full of adults and elders.
You are steeped in youth culture here on tumblr dot com, but that is not the whole experience. You aren't seeing all the communities of queer elders with entirely different experiences. Queer parents, queer people working boring normal jobs. Half the transmascs I know drive forklifts.
Also a lot of adult cis men love anime and video games and other "childish" things. This is a skewed view of adulthood and adults as perfect worker drones who don't feel joy. This is not the experience of adulthood. You are still allowed to feel joy and don't have to abandon your childhood hobbies as you move into adulthood.
Something that is often required of women is to strip themselves of "childish" things to become workers and mothers, but this is much less forced on men. Men are allowed to keep enjoying their childhood hobbies into adulthood with less criticism or pushback. Things like video games, sports, anime. It's considered normal to have a man cave and a boys night and engage in those things together. Women are rarely afforded the same thing and are called childish for wanting to keep their own hobbies. When trans men do it, it's often seen as childish too, in the way women are infantalized when they have hobbies. That's not cool. It's not childish to have hobbies, no matter your sex or gender.
You deserve to keep enjoying your hobbies and not have to be the perfect stepford wife. Life isn't only about labor. Not only do trans men deserve to do those things and not be seen as lesser, so do you. Your childhood favorites like Sailor Moon or idk what the Gen Z version of Sailor Moon was, should not have to be abandoned just because you turn 18 and work in an office.
The delay of adulthood is also something often generalized to millennials as well, of any genders. I remember this being a critique of my entire generation when I was in my early 20s. It's true to a degree because we no longer live in an economic environment where people can succeed in the same ways they did in the past. And I'm sure this is being applied to younger generations too.
Everyone is different and has a different reason for transitioning.
As for asexuality, I know gender criticals are also often very critical of asexuality, but that is also real. And people don't have to have sex to be adults. This is part of the compulsory heterosexuality narrative. It's not just heterosexual attraction. The sex itself is required. It's a marker of adulthood and it's mandatory under compulsory heterosexuality. Something a woman has to do, a service she must perform to be allowed to exist in the world. But not everyone wants that. Sexuality of any kind shouldn't be forced on people. That's basic feminism 101.
Genuine question as someone female with gender dysphoria: How do you feel about the argument that trans identification is an expression of self-infantilization I've consumed a lot of radical feminist/gender critical material on the topic and I want to hear it from the opposing view. What I've read suggests as follows:
Only children have bodies without secondary sex characteristics; a desire to have a body which doesn't reflect your adult sexual development is a childish desire to escape adulthood
A lot of female transgender people love things like cartoons, anime and video games for children
Many of the same people also reject being called "women" and prefer terms like enby or boy, which are childish-sounding or usually only applied to children
A lot of transgender people, especially on Tumblr, can't drive, don't work, don't have sex and don't want to have children
Reading this has demoralized me a lot; I'm very proud of being an adult, I'm happy being employed and living a life that would be unthinkable to a child, I don't want to have an identity which will essentially turn me back into a child again, so this has definitely put me off trans identity. I wanted to seek a second perspective and you're pretty vocally pro-trans. I promise this isn't a troll ask- I do have radfem/GC beliefs but I'm open to other opinions. Thank you!
I have no idea what you're talking about. That's genuinely so much generalizing.
Darling, I'm on testosterone specifically to get hairier, more muscular and look older/my age for a man, the exact opposite of what you're describing, that's what testosterone does. I'm nearing 30, I haven't lived with my parents since I was 18 and have been working for about as long too, I have a career and a partner of 11 years who I'm getting married to next year. So I have absolutely no idea why you think that description of transness would fit my experience in any way? Except for maybe the no driving part which... babes, some of us live in these cool places called ✨ cities ✨.
Your stereotype is basically just your judgemental description of someone who might be unable to work, young and literally just asexual. Those are all perfectly fine ways of being and yes, some people on Tumblr will fit that description and logically, some of them will be trans/non-binary.
Some people want to have few to no secondary sexual characteristics, but that's not the most common trans experience, not at all? It's actually more common to just be fine with what nature gave you, especially for non-binary people.
You made up a strawman of a trans person you're inclined to feel angry about because of bigoted views you hold. Which makes you come off like a judgemental, mean person.
You know what being a mature adult means for me? Being capable of minding your own business and keeping inside thoughts on the inside, where they belong.
Most mature adults do not, in fact, spend as much time debating fictional teenagers in their heads as you seem to be.
It's so embarrassing for you, but don't worry, you can work on that! You can start by examining why that little made up trans person in your head is making you leave short essays in random people's asks about how displeased you are about how they're choosing to live their imaginary little life and what this obsession of yours says about you.
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tea-cat-arts · 7 months ago
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Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will
#svsss#scum villian self saving system#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#the fact that people think scum villain#-a series that examines and criticizes common tropes in fiction-#is somehow against criticism or being a little hater is wild to me#especially since shen qingqiu never gets punished for being a hater#heck- he's still a little hater by the end of the series#he mostly gets punished for treating life like a play and like he and the people around him are characters#(or in other words- he suffers for denying his own wants and emotions and his own sense of empathy)#I think some of y'all underestimate how much writing/art is inspired by creaters being little haters#like example off the top of my head-#the author of Iron Widow has been pretty vocal about the book being inspired by their hatred of Darling in the Franxx#I think my interpretation of Shen Yuan's transmigration is also supported by the fact that this series is an examines writing processes#side note- though i understand why people say Shen Yuan is lazy and think its a valid take it still doesnt sit right with me#i am probably biased because my own experiences with chronic pain and depression and isolation#but ya- i dont think Shen Yuan is lazy so much as he is deeply lonely and feels purposeless after denying parts of himself for 20ish years#like yall remember the online fandom boom from covid right?#being stuck completely alone in bed while feeling like shit for 20 days straight does shit to your brain#the fact that no one came to check on him + he wasn't exactly upset about leaving anyone behind supports the isolation interpretation too#+in the skinner demon arc he describes his life of being a faker/inability to stop being a faker now that he's Shen Qingqiu#as “so bland he's tempted to throw salt on himself” and “all he could do is lay around and wait for death” (<-paraphrasing)#bro wants to be doing stuff but is stuck in paralysis from repeatedly following scrips made by other people#another point on “Shen Yuan isn’t lazy” is just the sheer amount of studying that man does#also he did graduate college- how lazy can he really be#he doesnt know what hes doing but he at least tries to actively train his students#and he actually works on improving his own cultivation + spends quite a bit of time preping the mushroom body thing#+he's experiencing bouts of debilitating chronic pain throughout all this#but ya tldr: Shen Yuan's transmigration is an encouragement to write and not a punishment and also i dont think its fair to call him lazy
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isthatacalzone · 2 months ago
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me: *seeing people yell about how they did Glintshore & Percy's death in the show*
also me: ..................anyway
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throwawayasoiafaccount · 3 months ago
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Why do you think the tides have slightly turned from "Elia deserves better than Rhaegar" to shipping her and Rhaegar together? Like what is the psychology behind these people because I've seen some of them like/reblog anti Rhaegar posts while also shipping Rhaegar x Elia at the same time.
hey anon! my thoughts are a bit messy, but i’ve done my best to explain them coherently :)
so, rhaegar was the best man anyone could have when elia was alive, and most people want the best for their favs. he was considered the most handsome, didn’t have a bad personality, and he was crown prince—meaning elia was almost queen, which is often seen as the greatest role a woman can have. the narrative also treats rhaegar as a beautiful, tragic, haunting figure, and elia actually had this very aesthetically pleasing man all to herself at one point! she was married to him, had children with him, and her life was so close to perfect! but rhaegar just had to go and ruin it. 😠
for many elia stans, if rhaegar hadn’t fallen in love with another woman (they want him to have been a completely different character), then everything would’ve been perfect, and elia would’ve had the best, most desirable life. however, that’s not what happened—elia met a very tragic end, and as a result, these stans feel double the bitterness. because of this bitterness, they blame rhaegar for everything (even though it’s not logical to do so), but he’s just too ‘perfect’ to let go of. so, for years these stans have made rhaegar revolve around elia, filling his tag with posts about her out of bitterness. so, i do believe that this obsession with rhaegar x elia has always been there, but i think it’s become a more favorable stance on the elia stan side of the fandom because of a mix of reasons.
plus, rhaegar is one of the few canon relationships we know elia had, since she’s not much of a character. because of this, and the fact that most people don’t like to stray too far from canon, most elia stans are forced to focus on rhaegar, which has created an echo chamber. basically, if a sentiment about elia and rhaegar’s relationship becomes popular, then the whole elia stan side of the fandom will likely regurgitate the sentiment. (also, this desire to stick close to canon is likely why the elia x arthur ship was so popular. while it’s a total crack ship, it had good aesthetics, and since elia and arthur at least knew each other, it allowed the stans to create their perfect fanfiction whilst sticking it to rhaegar. but remember, elia was actually married to rhaegar and had children with him, so while arthur is cool, rhaegar was always ‘top dog,’ meaning arthur would never be able to match up to rhaegar to most elia stans. also, the arthur x elia crack ship is likely her second most popular ship, which just shows how little elia stans have to work with, so they’re always forced to eventually return back to rhaegar for a lot of things.)
however, even if the elia x rhaegar ship gains more popularity, these stans will never stop hating rhaegar because he wasn’t ‘perfect’—and he wasn’t perfect because he didn’t love elia. plus, rhaegar loving another woman and supposedly kidnapping her is what began the war that led to elia’s tragic death. that’s bitterness times 1000. and while i don’t actually blame rhaegar for the war, i do think that this is how an elia stan sees it. i also don’t view rhaegar’s complex relationship with elia as a bad thing—it’s actually a very realistic take on an arranged marriage between two decent people. but most elia stans will never be able to get over the fact that they almost had everything, which is why many have it out for lyanna, as they consider her a thief who ruined their ‘perfection.’
tbh, that might be why so many elia stans are so obsessed with the idea that rhaegar only got with lyanna because of the prophecy—they don’t want to believe that rhaegar actually loved a different woman and not their perfect self insert elia. that’s a bit mean of me… but i don’t know what else one would call the ‘elia’ elia stans have created.
now that i’ve laid all those thoughts out, i’ll try to explain why the tides seem to be turning… i think it may have something to do with the ‘targaryens are all evil and bad’ sentiment losing popularity. i think this shift has occurred due to a mix of factors, such as years of fandom fights and fandom cycles leading to the targs being more liked now than before. it helps that canon doesn’t actually condemn the targs/favors them quite a bit, and the influx of new targ fans from HOTD has also contributed. this combination of reasons seems to have shifted the way the mainstream fandom discusses all the targaryen characters, including rhaegar. so, with this shift, it’s only natural that some elia stans/elia x rhaegar shippers—who’ve always been there—are using this opportunity to push their agenda. while these stans still hate rhaegar and see him as the bad guy, they just can’t let go of him. and as the mainstream fandom moves away from the anti targaryen sentiment, these smaller corners of the fandom, which tend to be echo chambers, are also affected, which has therefore led to a rise in rhaegar x elia shippers and the ‘shifting tide’ that you’ve also noticed.
#‘if only rhaegar did this’ is a very common sentiment amongst elia stans#most stans have always had the ‘if only’ mindset#‘if only elia survived’ easily leads to ‘if only rhaegar didn’t run off with his whore’ as the targs become less hated#it’s kinda a pipeline? rhaegar anti plus elia stan leads to rhaegar x elia shipper who still hates rhaegar#another reason that a lot of this happens is because elia and the martells plus dorne are the good ‘others’ a person can like#while the targaryens are the ‘bad others’ one can safely hate as they’re white & have a bit of demon symbolism + come from an ‘evil’ empire#the targs also ruled over everyone so a lot of fans like pushing all the blame onto them for all the problems#however the targs are cool and they’re hot af and being royalty is the best! so they’re the ‘bad others’ one can safely hate#but people still want their aesthetic and want their favs to have what the targs had. all the cool magic + the aesthetic + danys monikers#so people can convince themselves that it’s okay and logical and right to hate the targs but most ppl will still connect their favs to them#of course… things have been shifting in the fandom which i’m very happy about#and all of these sentiments are combined and compressed when it comes to rhaegar and elias relationship#so any big shift on how the fandom views the targs will always affect the way rhaegar and elias relationship is viewed#it just so happens that the targs aren’t the evil dragon nazis anymore so it’s kinda okay for elia stans to ship him with her#i’m not gonna go through my tags and make sure they make sense so i’m simply hoping for the best#anyways… i hope i didn’t digress too much. i just found this shift so interesting so i couldn’t help myself#asoiaf fandom critical#anti elia stans#rhaegar targaryen#anti rhaegar x elia#house targaryen#valyrianscrolls#pro rhaelya#lyanna stark#rhaegar x lyanna#anon ask#thanks anon this was a fun topic to cover#i recently found a really old post about both elia and lyanna and boy… it was quite discusting to read#elia stans kinda cycle from ‘elia deserved better x crack ship with shallow aesthetic’ back to elia x rhaegar while shitting on rhaelya#just know that rhaegar is always the bad guy to them! the sentiment on lyanna will go from hot to cold but rhaelya is always bad as well!
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