#and moreover makes one FAR less precious about their understanding of a work to know 'yeah this isn't exactly immortal literature' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dustofinsanity · 4 years ago

Text

𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝟙

ㅤㅤ

Jinyoung / ReaderㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGang AUㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWords count: 3k

Summary: Even if he was supposed to be nothing more than a friend with benefits, Jinyoung was your first and only one love. But he broke your heart and made you become the cold woman you are now. Seven years later, you meet him again.

Content/Warning: Angst, Strong language, Violence/Blood, Romance/Fluff

Author’s note: Thanks to my dear @prettywordsyouleft, the Daechelle to my Naguk, for correcting this series. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 💜

Next part

Your heart was pounding in your chest, echoing in your temples, sounding like a battery from a metal concert. Even if sometimes you liked this music style, now wasn't the time to headbang or dance like a possessed girl. You had to stay focused on what your friends were saying even if they already repeated their words a thousand times. It was obvious they were more stressed than you, asking every five minutes, if not less, if the draft-beer system was working or if there were enough bottles when they weren't looking at the chairs and the stools to check if everything was alright.

They knew this night had to be perfect, not only because it meant a lot to the four of you, but mostly because they knew you dreamed of opening your own pub since you were able to make sounds. They knew the Bad Company wasn't just a bar or a dream, it was your baby, your precious baby. That was why they wanted the opening of the place to be special, perfect.

However, seeing them stressing like that didn't help you to relax, especially when you had other worries in mind. But that was pretty your fault. You were the one who wanted to open a bar in one of the most dangerous districts of the city. Well, okay, you didn't want to open the Bad Company here but you had no choice. All the other places were too expensive and you couldn't imagine a pub like the one you were about to open in the middle of Gangnam. Definitely not.

Rubbing the top of your nose, a loud sigh parting your lips, you asked them to stop running all around, adding on that everything would be alright.

"If you have any problems with a customer, just t-" one of your best friends, Joohyuk, started to say when, silently, you grabbed the baseball bat hidden behind the counter and put it on your shoulder, looking at him with a brow raised. "Yeah, I know, you can take care of yourself but it would be preferable if no head ends totally smashed on the ground for the opening."

"You're not funny," you fakely pouted, putting back the weapon at its place before pouring yourself a beer.

"And you're fucking crazy," Dohwan, another friend chuckled, grabbing your head and kissing it softly.

"That's her only one charm," Kangjoon, the third one, smirked, giving you a playful wink.

"I'll kill you first," you laughed, grabbing back the bat and pointing at him.

As always, you earned no fear, just laughs from them since they knew you would never hurt them, your love for those three handsome idiots being stronger than anything else. They also knew you were pretty impressive with a baseball bat in your hands, they had seen you in action a few times. You might be the only girl in your friend group, and the tiniest one, but you were definitely the toughest.

The opening went better than the four of you expected and the Bad Company was quickly full of customers who, most of all, came by curiously. A young woman, who was probably the most beautiful one you have even seen in many years, asked you who was Destroy.

"I saw on the door that, if people fight, you will let Destroy calm them down," she continued, looking at Joohyuk like if he was the Eighth Wonder of the World.

"He's not Destroy," you chuckled, serving her another Cosmopolitan. "He could be but he's not dangerous enough. None of us is Destroy. If people fight, you will see," you added, winking at her, a smirk on your lips.

Actually, Destroy wasn't a person, it was your baseball bat. You named it like that three years ago when someone broke into your apartment at night and tried to assault you while you were sleeping. Too bad for him, you always slept with your weapon hidden between your bed and nightstand. You would always remember the cops' faces when they came into your apartment and saw your "aggressor"'s state.

The night was going pretty good when the front door opened and seven young men entered the pub, looking like they were about to turn everything upside down. You knew there would be customers like them, the district was well known for its gangs but strangely, you imagined them a bit older. They sat at a table, or rather, people gave them a table, and one of the group, the prettiest one to be honest, came to the counter and looked straight at you, a slight smirk across his lips.

"Seven beers?" you guessed when he was about to order. Licking his lower lip slowly, he nodded silently without taking his eyes off of you while you were pouring the drink in the glasses.

"Who's the boss, here?" he asked, looking at your friends, probably finding Dohwan a bit too impressive; after all, he was.

"The boss is in front of you," you calmly answered, chuckling slightly when you saw his eyes widening slowly.

His smirk coming back onto his lips, he whispered a low "Interesting" and, with the help of one of his friends, brought the beers to the table, freezing in the way when the door opened again and another group of seven men appeared.

Immediately, they all glared at each other and, leaning a bit over to the gorgeous girl you talked with before, you softly put your hand on her and said she might see Destroy sooner than expected. With a smile on your mouth, you stood up slowly and looked at the new customers, your eyes widening when you saw him, looking at you the same way.

From all the people in this crazy city, he had to be here.

You never forgot that man, much as you never forgot the way you loved him and the words he threw at your face the last time you saw him. He was the reason why you didn't want to date any man for seven years, sleeping and having sex with strangers some times but never wanting to start a serious relationship. He was the catalyst to why you had become so cold with men who showed an interest in you and why you always rejected them the bitchiest way possible.

Yes, you never forgot Park Jinyoung, your first and last love.

You met him when you were a student, at a party held by one of your classmates, and it was obvious there was more than just a simple attraction between the both of you, everyone could see it. Every time you were looking at each other, you both wanted only one thing, spending time in bed together, craving for each other's touch and skin.

And you both got what you wanted.

You never dated, both agreeing to just enjoy nights together without feelings involved. But that wasn't how things turned and, inevitably, you ended having feelings for your friend with benefits. Even if Jinyoung never told you, you were pretty sure he shared them, spending more time with you and even acting like a real boyfriend when you were with your friends.

But the truth was far from what you thought and one night, seven years ago, he just dumped you, saying you were nothing but a toy, a bet he made with one of his friends, and he would never waste his time dating someone like you, adding no smart man actually would. All of this with his eyes boring straight into yours. After a year of trying to heal yourself, your heart was still shattered and you never let anyone pick up the pieces, too afraid to suffer again. You knew it was stupid but it also was to safest way.

Clenching your teeth, you looked at Jinyoung and his friends sitting at a table at the other side of the pub and saw him saying something to the others before noticing them eyeing you. So he recognized you too.

"You're shaking, rascal," Kangjoon whispered in your ear, using your nickname, a warm hand on your lower back. "Everything's alright?"

"Everything's fine," you coldly answered, glaring at Jinyoung, an eyebrow slightly raised. "But, now, I can't promise no head will end smashed on the counter," you added, noticing the surprised, but also a bit afraid, expression across the woman's face. "Don't worry, honey, I can be very sweet too."

Immediately, her cheeks turned red and she slightly moved on her seat, letting you know your words and the tone of your voice had their little effect, which made you smirk again.

You weren't interested in women but you loved playing with them and making them think you were able to make them scream your name the whole night. Moreover, it was a kind of game with your best friends. When you noticed a girl staring at them, you flirted with her, making her fall into your trap, and at the end of the night, one of the boys comforted her since you coldly made her understand she had no chance to end up in your bed. It was mean, worse even, but the cold-hearted woman you were didn't care.

"Don't pay attention to her," Kangjoon said, pulling the beauty in front of you out of her probably naughty thoughts. "She's a player."

"But a very good one," you smirked again, licking and biting your lower lip.

The three of you laughed and, trying not to look at Jinyoung the most you could, you kept serving the other customers, flirting with some of them.

You knew it wasn't a good idea to flirt with people, especially men, from this district. There was a chance out of two they were gangsters, but recklessly you didn't care. You had lived dangerously for the last six years and didn't want to change it, enjoying the adrenaline this kind of life gave you. Moreover, you already slept with really bad guys and, until now, none of them had tried to kill you, even if you dumped them like a real bitch.

So, there wasn't any reason for you to stop. Even less when the cute one from the first group sat at the counter, his eyes wandering all over you intensely.

"Thirsty, cupcake?" you asked, making him open his eyes in surprise at the pet name.

"More than you can imagine," he grinned with satisfaction, his eyes running all over your curves once again before coming back to your face. "Look, I saw your reaction when these bastards came in," he added, gesturing to Jinyoung's group with a movement of his head. "Need help with them?"

"Do I look like I need help?" you replied with an eyebrow raised. "I can take care of myself but-" you paused, your eyes landing on Jinyoung, noticing the way he was staring at the both of you, teeth clenched. He seemed angry, and you were enjoying this view. Then, you slowly leaned over the counter, the neck of your t-shirt showing a bit of your lacy red bra. "But I'm sure you can help me with a lot of other things," you purred, licking and biting your lower lip the same way you did to the woman an hour before, your eyes sinking into his.

"Gladly," he breathed, grabbing the phone you were handing him and saved his number. "Call me whenever you want, sugar."

You nodded, internally grimacing at the pet name, and gave your attention to another customer, not even checking the name of the one you just flirted with on your phone. You didn't actually care, he would just end up as another name on the list of your hookups.

For another hour, you did your job, serving people and thanking some of them who congratulated you on the aesthetic of Bad Company. Every time, you surprised them, saying you always dreamed of opening a place that looked like a grungy version of a tea house. So, when they said you had done a great job, a wide and sincere smile adorned your lips.

Around midnight, Dohwan came behind you, his hands landing on your hips and his mouth a few inches away from your ear.

"Take a break, rascal," he whispered, his breath brushing the skin of your neck.

"With you?" you asked, turning to him, your lips almost touching his.

"Don't tempt me," he smirked, kissing the side of your head and softly slapping your butt.

You chuckled, loving the fact you could flirt with any of your best friends, especially Dohwan, knowing full well it was nothing but a game and it wouldn't lead to anything. Moreover, like you often said, you loved these three men too much to fuck them. Pretty vulgar but actually true.

You quickly grabbed your leather jacket in the backroom and went outside, immediately lighting a cigarette. You always found funny, and surprising, how many hours you could spend without smoking if you were busy but as soon as you had nothing to do, you almost could smoke a whole pack in less than two hours.

Back against the wall, eyes wandering through the street, you slightly smirked when you felt someone stop next to you, settling themselves in the same position. There was no need to check who it was, you already knew.

"It's been a while," you said, blowing out a large cloud of smoke. "So you're sadly still alive."

"You shouldn't talk to him," he simply replied, preferring not to pay attention to your last words.

A chuckle parted your lips and you tilted your head, finally looking at Jinyoung who was frowning at you. Even if seven years had passed since the last time you saw him, he hadn’t changed, still looking as cold as ice, something you always found really attractive about him, by the way.

"I forgot how funny you can be sometimes."

"I'm serious, Y/n. Stay away from that guy, he won't bring you anything good," he warned you, his eyes looking straight into yours. "He will hurt you."

"Awww, that's so sweet of you," you cooed, a fake touched expression across your face and a hand on your chest. "But, don't worry," you added, slowly nodding your head and moving your hand to his shoulder, "he can't hurt me or break my poor little heart. A fucking bastard smashed it seven years ago and I live far better with an empty chest now."

This time, Jinyoung's expression changed, his eyes opening wide at the violence of your words, his serious expression giving space to surprise, to shock.

As soon as he entered Bad Company and saw you behind the counter, Jinyoung knew you weren't the sweet and almost angelic woman he knew seven years before anymore. It wasn't the fact you were wearing makeup, when you didn't when you were a student, or that you traded your simple but always cute outfits for darker and sexier ones. People's tastes always changed with time and for him, you still were the beautiful Y/n he spent so many nights with.

It was your eyes, or rather the coldness in them.

Although you were slightly smiling when Jinyoung saw you, he immediately noticed how much you changed inside while the memories of every moment you both shared, and the never forgotten sensation of your skin under his fingertips, came right back into his mind, making his heart ache in his chest. But this pain was nothing compared to the one he felt when your eyes met his, a hint of disgust quickly darkening yours.

You'd changed, you became a cold-hearted woman and you clearly hated him more than anybody else. And he was the only one to blame for that.

"You know, I should thank you, actually," you said, pulling Jinyoung out of his thoughts.

"Thank me?" he repeated, blinking, caught off guard.

"Yes, for being the worst monster I've ever met," you replied with a twisted grin adorning your lips. "Thanks to you, I was able to get rid of my heart and I spent so many nights with men whose names I don't remember. If you didn't stomp on my feelings and dignity that night, I probably would stay the innocent, naive and stupid Y/n I was."

"Y/n, I-" Jinyoung sighed, lowering his head, taking every of your words as a stab in his heart.

But you didn't let him finish and, even if you hated him, softly cupped his face in your hands and locked your lips on his.

You would be lying if you said you didn't miss the softness of his lips, or the way they seemed to be shaped perfectly to have yours on them, but the woman you had become was too proud to admit it, even internally. You were too proud to admit you still madly wanted him, every cell of your being craving for his touch.

Slightly pulling away, your hands still holding his face, you put your forehead against his, a sad smile stretching your lips.

"I wish you nothing but the worst, Park Jinyoung, you awful monster, the reason why I became a whore, the first and last love of my life," you then whispered, eyes closed. "I hope someone will make you suffer as much as you did to me. From the bottom of my heart, I hope you'll never find happiness, in this life and the others."

Slowly, you lifted your head up and stood on your tiptoes to put a tender kiss on his forehead, finally opening your eyes and noticing he kept his closed, a painful expression slightly tearing his beautiful face.

Silently, you let go of him and walked back into Bad Company, feeling some tears threatening behind your eyes. But you held them back; you wouldn't cry tonight, or ever again, even less for Park Jinyoung.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ⁓•⁓ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Thank you for reading! 💜 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ⁓•⁓

#GOT7 #GOT7 scenario #GOT7 imagine #Park Jinyoung #Park Jinyoung scenario #Park Jinyoung imagine #GOT7 Jinyoung #GOT7 Jinyoung scenario #GOT7 Jinyoung imagine #KPOP #KPOP scenario #KPOP imagine #seven years fic #Feedback is always appreciated

130 notes · View notes

funknrolll · 5 years ago

Text

Celebrating Prince: discovering a timeless artist and his meaningful and impactful art. Part 1. From the 1970s to early 1990s

Hi music lovers, it has been a while since my last post. Today is an important day and as a fan of Prince and as I’m extremely passionate about his art, my tribute could surely not miss. Since this article is extremely long I decided to divide it into more than 1 big post and do a whole week celebrating this immense artist, his life and his meaningful and astonishing art. Additionally let me say that I began this article in summer 2019 and I managed to finish it just now and to be honest, it is a 20 thousand words article. With this said, I hope you enjoy this new format, I hope you guys enjoy this article and I hope it will make you reflect on how impactful and important was and still is Prince’s art.

First, let me say that I have heard so many things about Prince’s artistry. Some comments came from uneducated people who did not even take a second of their lives to understand, and do research on his art. Hence, I think the time to shed some light on Prince’s art, has come (finally). I hope to help some of those people understand this artist better and to finally appreciate him the way he deserves. We owe Prince big time. Today’s music and musicians owe Prince everything. Without him, many of the artists we listen to today, WOULD NOT BE EXISTING. As we all know, Prince loved to experiment with music, trying out new music genres, new styles, new harmonies, melodies, rhythms and so on. This is one of the factors that led this legend to create a unique, wide and broad vault. There are so many songs of his that I love so much and that I find relevant for this article. The ones I chose, are going to prove that Prince and his music did not just revolve around sex and sexuality, (even if the artist through his music took the topic to another whole level). Through the article, we will see that Prince was more than all that I mentioned above. He was an extraordinary human being, blessed with so many enormous talents, with a beautiful mind, a uniquely pure soul. A true gift of God. With this in mind, let us start this article.

Starting with For You and the self-titled album “Prince” lyrically speaking they both are centered on the bittersweet feeling of love. However, what strikes me every time I listen to these masterpieces is that Prince was only 19 when he produced them. Moreover, the artist was skilled enough to produce, write all the lyrics, play all the harmonies and melodies and therefore compose all the arrangements for the songs and eventually record everything in the studio. He was only 19 with already an enormous talent.

The next album I will tell you about is Controversy. Specifically, I will analyze two songs contained in the album, which are exactly the homonymous song Controversy and Ronnie Talk to Russia. Controversy was released in 1981 right after For you, Prince and Dirty Mind. This album is totally different from the previous three. Indeed, if we listen closely and attentively, we will discover that the dissimilarities lay in the sounds, melodies, lyrics, and intention with which this masterpiece was crafted. Speaking about the song Controversy, I find it extremely relevant and unique. Melodically and rhythmically, we can listen to a Prince who was enormously far from the Prince who produced and crafted I wanna be your lover and For you. Besides what I just mentioned, what I find hugely relevant about this masterpiece are the contents. Indeed, in this song, we can investigate how open-minded Prince was. The song was the product of the artist’s intelligence who took all the rumors and the fake news made against him and turned them into this song which not only was a smart clap back but it also hid an extremely deep meaning which lays in its bridge and is characterized by a spoken almost rapped part:

“ People call me rude, I wish we all were nude

I wish there was no black and white, I wish there were no rules

People call me rude, I wish we all were nude

I wish there was no black and white, I wish there were no rules

People call me rude, I wish we all were nude

I wish there was no black and white, I wish there were no rules

People call me rude, I wish we all were nude

I wish there was no black and white, I wish there were no rules “

The message Prince was delivering with this was evident: it does not matter whether we’re straight or gay, black or white, female or male, we all should be one and we are all the same. In fact quoting the artist: “So life is just a game, we’re all just the same”. In my opinion, this song is such an anthem and a hymn of freedom, and through this masterpiece, Prince encourages each of us to be ourselves no matter what. Moreover, this masterpiece, I would say, was a predictor of Prince’s whole career, as from that moment on, through his music he had always delivered the message of freedom of mind, freedom of expression, freedom to be ourselves, and a message of love and unity. Another song that I find extremely relevant for this article is Ronnie Talk to Russia. As we can infer from the title, this track had social and political purposes. Indeed, the title refers to the 40th American President Ronald Regan. Through this song, we can see another side of the artist who was very much conscious and interested in social issues. Moreover, this song was written and composed in the 1980s which means it was in the middle of the Cold War between the United States and Russia and therefore the lyrics make even more sense. Prince with the extremely earnest masterpiece was encouraging the then-President of the United States of America, to open the dialogues with Russia before it had been too late. Indeed, as the artist sang:

“ Ronnie if you're dead before I get to meet ya

Before I get to meet ya

Ronnie if you're dead before I get to meet ya

Don't say I didn't warn ya

Ronnie talk to Russia before it's too late

Before it's too late

Ronnie talk to Russia before it's too late

Before they blow up the world”

After Controversy, 1999 was released. One of my favorite songs on this album is Free, which is probably one of the most underrated in Prince’s vault. A true hymn of freedom. In my opinion, the lyrics of this masterpiece are quite self-explanatory. Basically, in this song Prince is encouraging each of us to be glad about our freedom. The kind of freedom, Prince is talking about, is the freedom of the mind which is something extremely important and that should never be taken for granted. Besides that, another of the topics contained in this masterpiece is the fugacity of life, or else that life is so short and we should never take it for granted nor should we waste it as it is something extremely precious that needs to be cherished. Moreover, this song is introduced by the beat of a heart and some steps. Perhaps the artist had a specific motivation to use these two characteristics to the point that he even used them in the song. In my opinion, Prince might have used the heartbeat to symbolize life and therefore our freedom and the fact that we should be happy for what we have which is our freedom and our life; because as Prince said, it is something some people do not have. This peculiarity is well connected to the lyrics, indeed as Prince sings:

“I know your heart is beating, my drummer tells me so

If U take your life 4 granted, your beating heart will go”

Additionally, as regards the steps used to introduce the song, this is the second detail that is exceedingly well related to the lyrics as Prince sang to be glad that we are free to go anywhere we want. Musically speaking, there is another peculiarity that makes this song even more relevant. Prince’s voice and performance are two of the major key points of this masterpiece. Indeed, in my opinion, without the proper execution of a talented artist, this song would have lost its impact and hence would have been less meaningful. The heartfelt, emotional and genuine performance the artist delivered is what makes the song even more credible, and therefore impactful. Additionally, what I find mesmerizing about Prince, is how he had always been able to create a connection with the listener through his music.

Jumping forward in time, in 1987 Prince released Sign ‘o’ the Times such a meaningful album. The album was released after Purple Rain (1984), Around the World in A Day (1985) and Parade (1986). In this masterpiece, Prince is delving into a wide range of different topics that shift from love, social issues, climate change, sex, death, new diseases, poverty, religion and so forth. Not only can we see Prince’s musical evolution in this masterpiece, but also how he was unraveling his true beautiful self as an artist and human being. There are three songs that I find extremely relevant for this article and these are the homonymous Sign ‘o the Times, Starfish and Coffee and The Cross.

Starting with Sign O the Times, this song begins with an extremely strong bassline which is entirely played by Prince like all the other instruments in this song are. Indeed, this is the first album that is not played by the Revolution. Hence Prince with this masterpiece is showing one more time his immense musical skills. Also, the instrumental part of this masterpiece is, I would say, extremely simple and neat. Indeed, a few instruments were used to craft the song. However, the arrangement is quite complex. In my opinion, Prince might have kept the instrumental part simple and neat to confer more importance to the lyrics. This was an extremely well thought and ingenious choice as thanks to it the artist is having his listener to put all their attention to the monumental lyrics of the song. As I mentioned, the lyric is the fulcrum of this song. In fact, through the eloquent, self-explanatory and skillfully written lyric, Prince is delivering such an important message. Through this work the artist is externalizing all his concerns about climate changes and social issues such as the appearance of aids, drug addiction, and poverty. The relevance of this song is still extremely actual, now more than ever. The second song I mentioned, Starfish and Coffee, is probably my favorite in this album. Perhaps because it deals with a topic that is close to my heart. According to the internet, this song was inspired by a real person. Indeed, according to Prince’s then-girlfriend, Susannah Melvoin, the song is about one of her classmates who was extremely peculiar and ignored by all her classmates except Susannah. Needless to say, that when Prince heard the story and asked for more details and eventually Starfish and Coffee was born. In addition to that, Prince then confirmed on the old website love4oneanother that this song is specifically about a little girl with special needs. Lyrically speaking also this song, is extremely eloquent. The artist’s sensitivity and gentle personal touch in telling this moving story and depicting the main character is what makes the song unique. Besides the touching story behind the song, the extremely peculiar arrangements and melodies would suggest a happy song dealing with a happy story, rather than a sad story. However, Prince might have opted for this specific arrangement either to allure the listener to pay attention to the song, or to ease a song that would have been too painful if it had had an arrangement coherent with the lyrics. The third song I mentioned is The Cross. This masterpiece probably holds the most hermetic meaning among all the songs on this album. Although the title would suggest the Cross symbolizing Jesus Christ, his name is never mentioned. Moreover, the heartwarming and reassuring lyrics and the monumental, almost Beatles-like arrangement, are two of the major points of the song. Indeed, the song opens with a few instruments and then their number increase as the melodies build up and expand like a beautiful flower opening and showing its beautiful colors. The cherry on the top of the pie is the artist’s emotional and impressive performance that never ceases to give me chills. Last but not least, I don’t know if it is just me, but this song and the intention of the performance and the arrangements are giving me Beatles vibes.

Among all the albums produced, Music from Graffiti Bridge is perhaps one of my favorite by Prince. After Lovesexy (1988) and Batman Soundtrack (1989), the artist released the soundtrack of his third movie: Graffiti Bridge. (I really recommend this movie in case you have not seen it yet). This movie despite all the comments and criticisms it received, is, in my opinion, a masterpiece that delivers such a hugely important message. It is a pity that some people are not able to look beyond appearances to search for something deeper. The album boasts the presence of a special guest and music legend or else Dr. Funk, Uncle Funk aka George Clinton. Among the songs on this masterpiece, the most meaningful and relevant are New Power Generation, Elephants and Flowers, and Still Would Stand All Time.

The first song I mentioned is New Power Generation. The message it delivers applies extremely well to music today. Indeed, the message Prince has always strived to send out through his music and life was that music’s most important and highest purpose is to change the world and people for the better. Therefore, artists should make efforts to create music with that specific aim. This lesson should be applied to music today as most of the artists today do not create music to inspire people but rather for their own advantage. Besides, the artistic and personal evolution of the singer is quite undeniable. The arrangement of the song vaunts the presence of some of Prince’s talented fellow artists such as Morris Day who skillfully executed the drumline and the beautiful singer Rosie Gaines who with her signature voice is performing the powerful background vocals. Additionally, with the soulful and expressive vocals, Prince gave proof of his skills using a good portion of his vocal extension and lastly giving proof of an extremely broad range of vocal techniques.

Another relevant song worth listening to is Elephants and Flowers. The song is perhaps one of the most spiritual on the album. The crystal-clear lyrics hide a deep meaning, lesson, and message of hope and love. In fact, through the metaphor of the Elephant and the flowers Prince is basically teaching that God created everything from something big as an Elephant to something as small as a flower. Hence, the lesson behind the metaphor is that God made us all and the prayers of those who believe in Him are not wasted in vain and He listens to them. Moreover, as in many of the artist’s songs, it could not be missed the implicit allusion to the afterworld which is being depicted as a beautiful place without sorrows, confusion, nor tears. Indeed as Prince sang:

Think I'm gonna fall in love tonight.

When I do, there won't be no more (confusion)

There won't be no more (no tears)

There won't be no more enemies, so that eliminates all the fear

And there won't be no sorrow, (sorrow)

There won't be no pain, (no pain)

There won't be no ball and no chain

Strip down, strip down, elephants and flowers.

Moreover, it is also important to pinpoint the instrumental part which is quite different from the artist’s previous works. The song is crafted with drums as the prevailing instrument followed by a skillfully played signature guitar solo. Although the relatively small number of instruments played, Prince has been able to craft an instrumental that sounds like a whole full orchestra. In my opinion, one of the reasons why the artist sometimes used a small number of instruments could be perhaps because he wanted to give importance to his vocals and the beautiful voices of the background singers. Another reason why might be that he wanted the audience to listen attentively to the lyrics. Moreover, another thing that I believe is of extreme importance, is that Prince played all the instruments in this masterpiece. Mind-blowing, isn’t it?

Another song that I find relevant is Still would Stand all Time. This was the last song played in the movie. Unlike all the other songs on the album, this one is different: firstly, because after 13 funk, rock, and pop songs, the artist decided to experiment with another music genre which is soul. Through some crystal-clear lyrics, the artist delivered a precise and straightforward message. There were no implicit messages, no inferring. Hence, the meaning is as simple as it gets: universal love, love for one another and the hope in a better world full of love, where people could finally join together, love each other, without dishonesty, anger, fear, jealousy, and greed. A world where people leave their pasts behind and join together against injustices. A world where no man will rule another man. This is basically the message Prince has lived up to his whole life. This message can be applied to today’s world and society, as we live in a world ruled by greed and anger and sorrow when instead we should be loving each other like brothers and sisters without hate, racism, greed. Unfortunately, we live in a world where we lost most of our humanity and kindness. Back to the song. Yet the peculiarity that makes the song monumental, besides the beautifully written lyrics is the instrumental. First of all, to make you understand better how brilliant Prince was, I need to say that in his song, the artist used a three-tone sampled flute from Prélude À L'Après-Midi D'Un Faune by Claude Debussy, from the cd Images For Orchestra. Besides the sampled flute, the vocal part is another relevant peculiarity. Indeed, Prince is giving one of the most touching, expressive and heartfelt performances that gets straight to the heart and soul of the listener. Additionally, not only are these vocals a joy for our ears but the choir and Prince are using an extremely wide range of vocals techniques that show how musically educated the artist was. Indeed, at the very beginning of the song we can listen to Prince singing the first line of the song and the choir using the echo technique repeats Prince’s line. The echo technique is used almost throughout the entire song, except for two lines where the vocal technique used is the call& response. Indeed, the first line where the vocal technique I mentioned, is used is:

Oh, love, love, oh love if you would just please give us a sign

Still would stand all time

In these two lines, Prince is singing the first one and the choir responds with the chorus. Moreover, the other part where this technique is used is:

Love, love, it’s not that far away if we all say yes and give it a try

(Got to give it, a try, yes!) still would stand all time (I say still)

(so many times) so many times, I thought I could not make it

(still would stand all time)

The first line is performed by the choir to which Prince responds with “Got to give it a try, yes”. The chorus is performed by the choir and Prince responds with “I say still”. In the third line, Prince and the choir switch their parts and Prince sings the mainline and the choir responds. Despite the vocal parts are dominant in this song, the instrumental is also deserving recognition. First of all, it is important to notice Prince’s ability to craft an extremely complex arrangement. Moreover, what I find mesmerizing is how this brilliant artist could use a broad spectrum of harmonies and melodies and still make them work perfectly. Indeed, if you listen attentively, you would hear Debussy flutes from the Prelude in perfect harmony with the melodies played on the piano and the beats of the drums. As regards to the piano, we can listen to several different and difficult techniques used to craft this beautiful melody. Also, it is relevant to mention the fact that Prince played each instrument you hear in this masterpiece. Moreover, I do not know if it is just me but this kind of song makes me miss Prince more and more. He had this beautiful ability to connect with people through his music and therefore touch our heart in a way only a few artists have been capable of. This song is one of them. A total monumental masterpiece.

This was the first part of a series of articles dedicated to Prince to celebrate his life and most importantly his art. Stay tuned for more. In the meantime stay home, stay safe and healthy. Peace and Love 4 one another. G💜

95 notes · View notes

tsyfq · 3 years ago

Text

Wengui Newsjacking on the Heavy Rain of Zhengzhou. Letting off Steam and Donation Cheating with All Efforts. Comrades, Keep Your Eyes Open!

Zhengzhou, the capital city of Henan province, was hit by heavy rain at 4 PM July 20. By 17 o'clock, rainfall per hour reached 201.9 mm, which has exceeded the extreme value of China's hourly rainfall capacity on land, resulting in poor drainage, severe waterlogged, economic losses, and enormous casualties. However, with the strong support of the Chinese government and all parts of the country, the people of Zhengzhou united as one to actively carry out self-rescue operations, relief, and rescue work. All these have achieved initial success. Guo Wengui, who is far away in New York, has been working in Zhengzhou for many years, and Yuda Building is just in Zhengzhou. He should have felt empathy for the heavy rain in Zhengzhou. But surprisingly, He turned a happy face to this. At the same time, Cheater Guo tried to describe natural disasters as human-made ones and encourage Guo investors to donate to Zhengzhou. There must be some triggers in this donation because of the duplicity and the inconsistency. Comrades, keep your eyes open! Don't be fooled!

From the beginning, Guo Wengui had no breaking news to cover. The revolution is false advertising that hangs a sheep's head to sell dog meat signs. Protecting his money and life, revenging, getting the United States political support, bleeding "the ants" dry are the authentic purposes of the person. So, at the beginning of the whistleblower movement, Guo Wengui's material is fake. The original aim is to expand the number of fans and 'the ants' who can help the team. From 2018 to 2020, There has been no material for him, even a fake one, to disclose. But fortunately, Seattle Crabs, Sara, and other "ants" handed over the "pillow "(the Rule of Law Foundation and the G group )when Guo Wengui was sleepy. He began to transform from leading the whistleblower movement to donation cheating of the RLF and investment fraud of G Group easily by the pillow. At present, the Rule of Law Foundation, the Rule of Law Society, and the G group have been at the end of the rope. The person deceived, the betrayer Sara, the Pig Head Lude, "heroic scientist"Yan Limeng, will surely spare no effort to bomb those savagely with their words and actions. In the end, Guo Wengui will not escape from the punishment of the"judicial purgatory."

Therefore, It is the heavy rain in Zhengzhou on July 20 that made Guo Wengui deflect people's attention and change the subject he used to hold. On the one hand, it was a way to let off steam and vent frustration. To appease the restless emotions in the Guo Group after Lude and Yan Limeng defected, he discourses eloquently on a subject of the contribution to Zhengzhou from him and Yuda tower. It can imagine that how deep his depression was on the hands-changing of Beijing Pangu and Henan Yuda. It is so unfamiliar that even the staff in these two towers don't know who Guo Wengui is. But no debts without creditors. That all these forced Guo to turn to his original color has only himself to blame.But to see years of accumulation in vain, Cheater Guo's heart is unwilling and full of anger. So, He used Zhengzhou's heavy rain to vent one's grievance and has since ruined his public persona. Guo Wengui said the heavy rain that happened in Zhengzhou is not accidental, is inevitable, is not a natural disaster, is a human-made disaster, Zhengzhou is an evil place, it had better drowning these bastards of Henan. They deserve it! Look how much anger there is. Guo Wengui so far did not understand that small tricks, lies, robbery, and under-society movement cannot help him sustain. Now Cheater Guo, who is full of hostility, is still trapped in his trap. The Rule of Law Foundation, the Rule of Law Society, and the G group are giant pits dug by Guo Wengui. Guo must face the group of victims, "big ants" Sara and Lude, who betrayed him as well as surveillance from the United States judicial. Now he is newsjacking on the heavy rain of Zhengzhou, Which is asking for trouble. How dare he is！

It is the only chance to survive for Guo Wengui if he stops here, washes his hands of it from now, and gives back the money that he cheated out of before. According to Lude, the finance of the Rule of Law Foundation and Farms have become dangerously intertwined. According to Sara, the project funding of Phoenix Farm has been partly transferred to the Abu Dhabi-China fund through Guo Wengui's account. That is to say, Guo Wengui embezzled nominal public investment funds. It is a big mistake and beyond any help. Moreover, to obtain political asylum, Guo Wengui used Bannon to get in touch with trump, and the money he spent on this was also from the investment of Gclub. Guo's consumption and payments to Yan are also linked with the legal fund. In a word, Guo Wengui has been back to less than before November 20, 2018. The prodigal who returns is more precious than gold. If Cheater Guo stops here, demonstrating that his conscience did not vanish. But just yesterday, Mr. Guo made a shocking announcement that a plan of calling on G Group to donate to Zhengzhou. According to the above comments about Guo Wengui associated with the heavy rain of Zhengzhou and the unhappiness of the owner alteration, we can infer that he won't have a flash of benevolence. What's more, he paid lip service to the cause, but he hasn't lent a hand from the beginning. Investors of G Group, don't be fooled by Guo Wengui. He is just newsjacking on the heavy rain of Zhengzhou and actually to cheat you out of your donations.

In short, heavy rain in Zhengzhou has caused considerable economic losses and casualties. It is human nature that when difficulties arise in one place, aid comes from everywhere. But Guo Wengui, who has long held a grudge against the people of Zhengzhou, is not destined to become conscientious suddenly. Why did he turn 180 degrees and call on his comrades to come to a plan of Zhengzhou donation ?! "Many kiss the baby for the nurse's sake." It is the real intention of Guo to blackmail investors and then make a windfall. With no breaking news to cover, G Group has been at the end of its rope. Now Guo is bleeding investors dry by newsjacking on Zhengzhou's heavy rain, which has been seen through by people from the start. Save your breath! Cheater Guo. You still have so many potent enemies to deal with.

1 note · View note

yyshx · 3 years ago

Text

No Breaking News to Cover, Guo Wengui Newsjacking on the Heavy Rain of Zhengzhou. Letting off Steam and Donation Cheating with All Efforts. Comrades, Keep Your Eyes Open!

1 note · View note

happylife2333 · 3 years ago

Text

No Breaking News to Cover, Guo Wengui Newsjacking on the Heavy Rain of Zhengzhou. Letting off Steam and Donation Cheating with All Efforts. Comrades, Keep Your Eyes Open!

1 note · View note

ashxketchum · 4 years ago

Note

TYHIL MAGIC AU! TYHIL MAGIC AU!!

Nooo it’s so bad, I wrote it halfway in like 2014 and I cringe every time I read it now which is why I can never finish it 😭

It was super difficult to find a snippet that was not cringey, but here it is:

Never in ten years had any villager or outsider uttered those words.

Please open the door.

It was like music to her ears. She felt obliged to get up and make her way to the door, setting aside books to make a clear path. But when she reached the door and adjusted the settings of her magical telescope to look at this kind person, she was highly disappointed by what she saw. A tall, young (probably a few years older than her) male stood at her doorstep. He was scratching his head as he frowned at the note he held in his hand. The note that she had slipped through from under the door a few minutes ago. She watched as he continued frowning and scratching his head for a while and the brunette couldn't help but scowl. Can he not read? At this particular moment, she could not bring herself to be patient. This was her first civil interaction with a fellow human being in a decade. And while the beginning of this had been through paper, it might just lead to an in person interaction as well. But that would only happen if he is able to convince her to open the door, she reminded herself, and she was starting to wonder if he lacked the skills to do so.

He started to move and her eyes was fixed on him again as he pulled out a charcoal pencil from thin air and proceeded to scribble onto the small sheet of paper. The young witch managed to keep her excitement in check and easily suppressed a squeal. As she waited for him to finish writing, she couldn't help but observe his features a little more carefully. He was wearing a white cotton shirt with some of the buttons undone and the sleeves rolled back. On top of the shirt he wore a red vest which had the emblem of the Kingdom etched with black thread onto its backside. He wore brown khaki pants with black knee high combat boots. And to top it off, he wore a red bandana on his head. His skin was tanned and his arms were littered with battle scars. To her, he looked more like a bandit than a soldier in the King's service.

"How unpleasant." She muttered quietly.

He bent down to push the paper through the small gap at the bottom of the door and then he suddenly looked up, his eyes fixed at the door. His deep brown eyes were looking directly at her. She immediately backed away from the magical device, staggering a little as she did so. He couldn't possibly have seen through her barrier. She could easily sense his magical presence and it was nowhere near her level. And yet it felt like he was looking look right through the door and into her eyes. With trembling hands she picked up the paper and unfolded it slowly. Her eyes moved across the paper and as they neared the end of the note, all colour drained from her face.

Separated from the real world for ten years, you really have no idea how magic works these days do you? I can see through all your measly tricks, kid. Open the door without kicking a fuss or I'll have my precious dragon swallow you whole and any chance of you ever seeing the real sky will go down my dragon's throat.

He knew that only ten minutes had passed since he had slipped in the small (not that threatening) note but it felt like hours had passed and he was getting sick of waiting outside. The sun was setting down, and the air had gotten surprisingly chilly. Even though he could easily create a warm and comfortable tent to spend the night through magic, he didn't want to. He couldn't stand being outside the dome any longer. After all, he had seen the witch. And something about her face had piqued his interest. He couldn't quite place it but there was something unusual about her. Not that locking herself up and staying away from the real world wasn't unusual in itself. Tyson let out an aggravated cry as another moment passed without the door opening. He scratched his head as he contemplated on whether he should take up on his threat. Even though he had threatened to kill her on paper, he had only used such a big flashy statement to lure her out. He thought that the thought of the library being destroyed would get her to come out but obviously it looked like it was going to take more than just an empty threat from him for her to show.

Tyson wasn't really keen on disturbing his sleeping friend as the consequences of him doing so hadn't been very pretty in the past. Moreover, despite its daunting appearance, the dragon didn't like to create a mess by stomping on things. He didn't even like eating people. Animals and birds were okay according to Dragoon, but humans left a bad taste in his mouth. Thinking about food made him realize that he had already eaten not only his food supplies but also the stack of apples reserved for the dragon during the ride this morning. If Dragoon found out he finished their supplies, that were supposed to last for two days in just a few hours, Tyson was good as dead. And with each passing moment, Tyson started worrying more about the dragon and food and less about wanting to enter the dome. He had now turned around, with his back to the wooden door and was thinking of going back to the village to get some food for himself and Dragoon and maybe a comfy bed to sleep in. The blue haired boy was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the faint click of the lock or the sound of the door opening slightly. It was her voice that finally caught his attention.

"Please come in."

The tone was soft and melodic and so quiet that Tyson wouldn't even have registered it if it hadn't come from behind. No matter how unnoticeable the whisper had been, it had come from the other side of the door. Tyson turned around immediately and grinned widely. The door had been opened just a little bit. A thin line of green light was streaming out onto where Tyson was standing, casting a slight illumination on his feet. It felt a little surreal to him. The way the door was only slightly ajar, the strange green light, the sweet whisper and how just a few seconds ago he had been all ready to leave. Despite the feeling, Tyson took a deep breath and with nervous hands pushed the door. He made sure not to open the door completely but just to create a gap wide enough for him to squeeze through. He entered as quickly as he could and then shut the door behind him. When he finally turned around, the scene in front of him blew him away. He stood there with his mouth hanging open in awe of the library. He had never seen so many books in one place before. The thought of the books containing immense knowledge about magic made his heart pound faster. If he could get his hands on all of the knowledge present in front of him, he would be invincible. No more trying to discipline the hopeless second division. He would straight away be promoted to the position of the King's right hand man.

Once the sheer extravagance of the library subsided, a small movement caught his eye. The wide grin spreading on Tyson face faltered a little as he noticed a small figure hiding behind a stack of books not far from where he was standing. He opened his mouth to say something but then shut it quickly as he had no idea what he should say. He pondered over this for a while and eventually decided that first he should apologise for all the shouting and banging and threatening. He cleared his throat confidently. There was a small squeak, a few books toppled down as the girl moved further away while still trying to stay hidden. Slightly annoyed by her actions, Tyson decided to chuck the apology and just get on with it. He started with examining the books closest to him and he was amazed by all the information stored in here. Though it seemed like the books weren't arranged in a categorical order. A book that talked about how you could curse an enemy to the depths of hell was kept below a book that taught magical sewing. As he moved along, Tyson created a stack of his own. He started assembling all the books he would need like battle strategy, demon taming, useful spells and curses etc. On an afterthought he also added the book on sewing to his pile since Dragoon often liked to shred his wardrobe and always buying new clothes was taking a toll on his already meagre salary.

He tried his best to make his movements discreet but the closer he got to the girl, the farther she would run. Most people would've given up after a while, but not Tyson. Nope, he was designed to never give up. He kept following her across the library, making sure to maintain a certain distance between them. He knew that eventually she would run into a wall and then when she'll be unable to dodge him, he would confront her. He couldn't understand why she was hiding, it's not like he was going to hurt her or anything he just wanted to see her face properly. When he had looked through the door, he had felt strange. There was something about her face that was bugging him immensely. He just wanted one long proper look without any barrier between them and these small glimpses from behind the books were driving him crazy. He needed to know.

After a few hours of clever manipulation from Tyson's side, the chase finally came to an end. He was skimming through a book about potty training for Dragons when he heard a quiet thud not far from where he was standing. Smirking, Tyson quickly manoeuvred through the stacks of books and blocked her only exit.

"Aha! Caught ya!"

#beyblade #beyblade fanfiction #tyhil #dont mind me and the 1000+ tyhil aus that live in my mind rent free #writealot #answered

7 notes · View notes

thepeakyfckingblinders · 5 years ago

Text

Insānĭa || Alfie Solomons x reader || Part One

↬ Part Two ↫

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “Hi luv can you write a Jealous Alfie that's leads to in ur words good old fashioned rough sex pretty please 😉”

Warnings: swearing, dirty talking, smut, rough sex, oral sex, jealous Alfie getting me on my knees

Author’s notes:

Sooo, I’ve definitely decided to use this kind of titles for fics about strong feelings such as jealousy because Latin is a magnificent, very expressive language that allows you to grasp every single shade of a word and fully understand its meaning

I had to split this in two since it was awfully long, part two will be out in the next hours!

Alfie -and Tom Hardy in general- is one of my most remote wet dreams, I truly hope I did a good job with this one ♡

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected ♡

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Insānĭa [insaniă], insaniae feminine noun I declension 1. madness, insanity 2. fury, frenzy 3. excess, extravagance 4. profligacy, luxury

The dark green brocade of your dress flawlessly embraced your body, creating a ravishing contrast between the bright colour of that precious fabric and your y/s/c velvet skin, as you gave a final glimpse at the mirror, appreciating what you saw for once. That surprising realization made a small smile appear on your ruby lips and you brushed behind your pearled ear a stand of your hair escaped from your fine coiffure, before finally leaving Alfie’s office, headed to the great hall of the distillery where an important business dinner was about to take place. Actually, your fiancé hardly ever involved you in his working life, indeed he always tried to keep you safe, far away from the atrocities of that cruel world, almost like you were his rare rose under a bell jar, he would’ve never let anything happen to you, at the cost of his own life. But that was a special occasion and it demanded an exception: Alfie had finally succeeded in reaching an agreement with a new Italo-American partner, in order to expand his traffic in rum all the way to the Americas; consequently, that opulent feast was arranged not only to celebrate, but also to define the ultimate details of their recent deal, and your presence was required too. Entering the huge room already half full of people, you immediately waved your hand at Ollie who was friendly smiling in your direction, before your eyes went looking for your boyfriend, finding him seconds later, while he was busy talking with who you assumed to be Mr. Antonio Fontana. As you approached them, you had to admit to yourself that Alfie’s latest business associate was, without a doubt, one of the most charming men you’d ever seen; his tall, muscular figure stroke a thrilling fear into you, as his dark greedy eyes examined your body with surgical precision and, when you eventually found yourself right in front of him with flushed cheeks, a slight smirk formed on his fleshy lips surrounded by a hint of beard, just as black as his curly hair.

You remained caught up in your inappropriate thoughts, unable to pronounce a single word, until a strong arm unexpectedly harpooned your waist, catapulting you back into real life, and you recognized Alfie’s intense cologne as it forcefully filled your nostrils. Only then you raised your eyes at him, noticing an irritated look contaminating his sublime masculine features, still you didn’t manage to say anything because, just as you attempted to open your mouth, Antonio’s deep voice overtook you, capturing your attention again.

“May I ask who this stunning creature is?” Although that question was in effect addressed to Alfie, your guest’s impudent gaze entangled yours once more, as he held your right hand, leaving a brief kiss on the ardent skin of its dorsum; his strategical sweet-talk, along with his sudden gallant gesture, inevitably intensified the blush on your face, preventing you to look the other way, so you simply kept your irises locked with his.

“I’m y/n ...” Before your full name could leave your red lips, Alfie nonchalantly took your tiny hand from his, sending him an indecipherable, unsettling glare in stark contrast with his apparently mild voice, while his fingers automatically stroked his long beard .

“Antonio, this is Y/n y/l/n, my lovely wife-to-be” That last appellative in particular was marked with far too much emphasis as his strong hand, still laid on your side, gently pulled your back closer to his vigorous torso covered by a creamy-white shirt and black jacket; already bothered by all of that impudence, he was obviously making it clear that you were not available, still the half Italian just didn’t seem to care and continued to shamelessly court you, right under Alfie’s harsh stare.

“This means it’s not too late for you to make a better choice, angel” Antonio’s grin widened while he spoke those insolent words, making his black eyes blatantly travel from your mouth to your deep neckline, his tongue slithered on his bottom lip in a salacious movement as he lingered on the soft skin of your chest. You felt your fiancé’s fists brutally clench, moreover his muscular arms visibly tautened together with his large shoulders, and you knew he wouldn’t have contained his anger for much longer, still, before your spellbound brain could start working again, your rambling mouth raced beyond the point of no return.

“Guess it’s never too late”

You said lightly and, as soon as you realized how idiotic your answer was, your eyelids snapped wide open with absolute panic for the likely destructive consequences of your foolishness; however, to your great surprise, nothing of what you expected actually happened. Alfie was still holding you tight, his heavy breaths slightly betrayed his attempt to remain calm: he was well aware that the deal with the Americans was way too important for him to ruin everything at a few inches from the finish line, so he just had recourse to all his self-control and somehow managed not to blow his shareholder’s head off his neck right on the spot. He simply cleared his throat before speaking again. “You know, my friend, we are businessmen, aren't we?” Your boyfriend’s husky voice revealed a hint of edginess, even though he was using his usual unintelligible tone “And as a businessman, there’s only one fucking thing I demand when it comes to my affairs, and that’s respect, ‘cause respect, mate, is fucking sacred, innit?” His tattooed hand drew a few little circles in the air as his brows and mouth raised simultaneously, giving birth to a brief pretentious expression. “I mean, no matter how hard I want to, I can’t just break into your house and fuck your mother under your bloody eyes, eh? That wouldn’t be right, mate” Antonio looked at him with a cheeky smile never leaving his face, and again he chose to totally ignore those veiled warnings, his attention utterly moved to your silhouette once more and his fingers dared to move a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Amico mio*, I think when you desire something so bad, you have to take it, even if it meant breaking the rules”

With fiery blood both in his greenish eyes and on the palms of his hands, due to the nails now wedged in his own flesh, Alfie abruptly breathed out, ready to assault his new sworn enemy and probably kill him right there and then, without a second thought; luckily, you were able to read him like a book, so, with great timing, you successfully avoided a bloodbath by yanking his arm, in order to dissuade him from the violent intentions crowding his turbulent mind. “Mr. Fontana, if you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, I just remembered I need help with a couple of things before our dinner is served” You put on an apologetic smile, starting to back off towards Alfie’s private room while dragging him with you “Please, take a seat, we’ll be back in a moment”

As soon as the two of you entered the main office, you quickly closed the door along with the curtains, conscious of how hard it was to cope with your man’s wrath, especially when it came to other blokes brazenly flirting with you. “What the hell was that, eh?” Alfie furiously removed his jacket, carelessly throwing it on the floor, his hoarse voice echoed between the walls almost astonishing you, as he approached your minute figure with a literally livid look. “How dare you eye-shag that fucking wop, in my own fucking home! He was practically about to put his dick in you right in front of me; and you would’ve fucking let him!” His savage screaming paused for a short instant when he spasmodically messed up his hair, madly pulling its tips in a desperate effort to hold back his rage.

On the other hand, you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him: whenever he got angry, the way veins swelled in his solid neck and half-exposed forearms drove you crazy, you were in a haze as you kept staring at his manly features pursed in such a cursed yet handsome expression, and if that wasn’t hot enough, his muscular body tensed several times, showing all of its virile glory, while he continued to shout at you. “I don’t even know why the hell I haven't killed that cunt yet! Maybe I should just go and rip his throat open” A familiar heat began to rise in your belly and you tactically sat on his desk, viciously martyrizing your bottom lip with your teeth, determined to tease him a little more, in order to eventually get what you were craving. “Oh, c’mon, love, no need to be this irascible! He is a gorgeous man, you can’t deny that” In truth, you couldn’t care less about that eyetie, still you kept using that coquettish tone, knowing how easy it was for you to find his weak spot, indeed Alfie immediately got close to your face, slightly squeezing his menacing eyes. “Are you fucking trying to make me mad on purpose, y/n? eh?” His palms loudly collided with the wooden surface on each side of your legs, his plump lips were now only a few inches apart from yours, his hot breath warming your flushed cheeks as you pierced his dilated pupils with a lustful gaze.

“Maybe.”

*Amico mio = My friend

@namelesslosers

413 notes · View notes

alltimebestbooks · 4 years ago

Text

Best Investing and Finance Books

Best Investing Books

1. The Intelligent Investor by benjamin graham

The greatest investment advisor of the twentieth century, Benjamin Graham taught and inspired people worldwide. Graham's philosophy of “value investing”—which shields investors from substantial error and teaches them to develop long-term strategies—has made The Intelligent Investor the stock market bible ever since its original publication in 1949.

Over the years, market developments have proven the wisdom of Graham’s strategies. While preserving the integrity of Graham’s original text, this revised edition includes updated commentary by noted financial journalist Jason Zweig, whose perspective incorporates the realities of today’s market, draws parallels between Graham’s examples and today’s financial headlines, and gives readers a more thorough understanding of how to apply Graham’s principles.

Vital and indispensable, The Intelligent Investor is the most important book you will ever read on how to reach your financial goals.

2. How to Avoid Loss and Earn Consistently in the Stock Market: An Easy-To-Understand and Practical Guide for Every Investor

Hundreds of books are there about ""How to make money from stocks?"" Still 80% small investors suffer loss in the stock market. Why?

Plenty of free trading tips are available across Television and Internet; still maximum small investors are unable to earn significant return consistently from trading. Why?

Why maximum individuals still consider the stock market as a place for gambling?

Investing in high-quality business (stock) at the right price and holding them for a reasonable period is the only way for wealth creation.Written in an easy-to-understand and simple language, this book will guide you on how to select fundamentally strong business, when to buy and sell stocks and above all how to minimize or avoid loss in the stock market. Chapters- 1. How to avoid loss in the stock market? 2. Stock Market is NOT risky at all 3. First step of picking winning stocks 4. How to evaluate management? 5. Valuation - It matters much 6. When to buy and when to sell 7. Do's and don'ts to avoid loss in the stock market 8. How to construct your portfolio? 9. Is it required to follow an equity advisor? 10. Quick formula for picking winning stocks 11. Little bit of myself - Important Lessons to be learnt

The book ends with a small note on "Life is not all about the stock market and money"

3. One Up On Wall Street: How to Use What You Already Know to Make Money in the Market

Penned by the famous mutual-fund manager, Peter Lynch, this book elaborates the many advantages that an average investor has over professionals and how they can help them reach financial triumph.

How To Use What You Already Know To Make Money in The Market explains how your knowledge alone can assist you beat the pros of investing. From the viewpoint of America's most triumphant money manager, investment chances are extensively accessible. Whether supermarket or work place, you can find goods and services everywhere. You have to select these organizations in which to invest, before they are found by skilled analysts. You will find more interesting knowledge on investment. Thus the book has become one of the best seller and treasure among readers. Moreover, this book provides time less recommendation on money business. This book has discussed the tips, ebb and flows on building it big in the investment market.

4. How to Make Money in Stocks: A Winning System in Good Times and Bad

Written by the acclaimed entrepreneur, William J O'Neil, How to Make Money in Stocks: A Winning System in Good Times and Bad, Fourth Edition is a handy guide that that deals with the stock market and its intricacies. The author of this book has written down the hard-earned knowledge he gained from his own experiences as an investor.

The price charts of winning stocks from the past century have been listed out in the beginning of this book. These charts are supplemented with notes throughout in order to make them more comprehensible to readers. In this book, the author discusses his trademark CAN SLIM method of investing.

The CAN SLIM method put together by the author consists of 7 steps which are aimed at maximising profits. This book imparts valuable information about the times when one needs to cut a loss and the times when one needs to invest and make a profit.

Mutual funds and exchange-traded funds are discussed as well by the author and he provides important tips on the ways to properly approach them while investing. The CAN SLIM method highlighted in this book was formulated by the author after analysing stock market patterns over the last 100 years.

How to Make Money in Stocks: A Winning System in Good Times and Bad, Fourth Edition runs its readers through important investment-related aspects such as an organisation's growth rate, demand and supply, mutual funds, etc

5. Irrational Exuberance by Robert J.Shiller

As Robert Shiller’s new 2009 preface to his prescient classic on behavioral economics and market volatility asserts, the irrational exuberance of the stock and housing markets “has been ended by an economic crisis of a magnitude not seen since the Great Depression of the 1930s.” As we all, ordinary Americans and professional investors alike, crawl from the wreckage of our heedless bubble economy, the shrewd insights and sober warnings, and hard facts that Shiller marshals in this book are more invaluable than ever.

The original and bestselling 2000 edition of Irrational Exuberance evoked Alan Greenspan’s infamous 1996 use of that phrase to explain the alternately soaring and declining stock market. It predicted the collapse of the tech stock bubble through an analysis of the structural, cultural, and psychological factors behind levels of price growth not reflected in any other sector of the economy. In the second edition (2005), Shiller folded real estate into his analysis of market volatility, marshalling evidence that housing prices were dangerously inflated as well, a bubble that could soon burst, leading to a “string of bankruptcies” and a “worldwide recession.” That indeed came to pass, with consequences that the 2009 preface to this edition deals with.

Irrational Exuberance is more than ever a cogent, chilling, and astonishingly far-seeing analytical work that no one with any money in any market anywhere can afford not to read–and heed.

Best Finance Books

1. The Millionaire Next Door: The Surprising Secrets of America's Wealthy

The bestselling The Millionaire Next Door identifies seven common traits that show up again and again among those who have accumulated wealth. Most of the truly wealthy in this country don't live in Beverly Hills or on Park Avenue-they live next door. This new edition, the first since 1998, includes a new foreword for the twenty-first century by Dr. Thomas J. Stanley.

2. Technical Analysis of the Financial Markets: A Comprehensive Guide to Trading Methods and Applications

John J. Murphy has now updated his landmark bestseller Technical Analysis of the Futures Markets, to include all of the financial markets.

This outstanding reference has already taught thousands of traders the concepts of technical analysis and their application in the futures and stock markets. Covering the latest developments in computer technology, technical tools, and indicators, the second edition features new material on candlestick charting, intermarket relationships, stocks and stock rotation, plus state-of-the-art examples and figures. From how to read charts to understanding indicators and the crucial role technical analysis plays in investing, readers gain a thorough and accessible overview of the field of technical analysis, with a special emphasis on futures markets. Revised and expanded for the demands of today's financial world, this book is essential reading for anyone interested in tracking and analyzing market behavior.

3. The Simple Path to Wealth: Your Road Map to Financial Independence and a Rich, Free Life

“In the dark, bewildering, trap-infested jungle of misinformation and opaque riddles that is the world of investment, JL Collins is the fatherly wizard on the side of the path, offering a simple map, warm words of encouragement and the tools to forge your way through with confidence. You'll never find a wiser advisor with a bigger heart.” -- Malachi Rempen: Filmmaker, cartoonist, author and self-described ruffian

This book grew out of a series of letters to my daughter concerning various things—mostly about money and investing—she was not yet quite ready to hear.

Since money is the single most powerful tool we have for navigating this complex world we’ve created, understanding it is critical.

“But Dad,” she once said, “I know money is important. I just don’t want to spend my life thinking about it.” This was eye-opening. I love this stuff. But most people have better things to do with their precious time. Bridges to build, diseases to cure, treaties to negotiate, mountains to climb, technologies to create, children to teach, businesses to run.

Unfortunately, benign neglect of things financial leaves you open to the charlatans of the financial world. The people who make investing endlessly complex, because if it can be made complex it becomes more profitable for them, more expensive for us, and we are forced into their waiting arms.

Here’s an important truth: Complex investments exist only to profit those who create and sell them. Not only are they more costly to the investor, they are less effective.

The simple approach I created for her and present now to you, is not only easy to understand and implement, it is more powerful than any other.

Together we’ll explore:

Debt: Why you must avoid it and what to do if you have it.

The importance of having F-you Money.

How to think about money, and the unique way understanding this is key to building your wealth.

Where traditional investing advice goes wrong and what actually works.

What the stock market really is and how it really works.

Why the stock market always goes up and why most people still lose money investing in it.

How to invest in a raging bull, or bear, market.

Specific investments to implement these strategies.

The Wealth Building and Wealth Preservation phases of your investing life and why they are not always tied to your age.

How your asset allocation is tied to those phases and how to choose it.

How to simplify the sometimes confusing world of 401(k), 403(b), TSP, IRA and Roth accounts.

TRFs (Target Retirement Funds), HSAs (Health Savings Accounts) and RMDs (Required Minimum Distributions).

What investment firm to use and why the one I recommend is so far superior to the competition.

Why you should be very cautious when engaging an investment advisor and whether you need to at all.

Why and how you can be conned, and how to avoid becoming prey.

Why I don’t recommend dollar cost averaging.

What financial independence looks like and how to have your money support you.

What the 4% rule is and how to use it to safely spend your wealth.

The truth behind Social Security.

A Case Study on how this all can be implemented in real life.

Don’t let any of this intimidate you. Those that have gone before you say:

“….in his patented no-frills and often humorous style, JL makes it both approachable and simple. And powerful.” “…effective message told in a visual, funny style.” “…a refreshingly unique and approachable take on investing.” “JL Collins has the gift of making boring financial concepts funny and interesting.” “Instead of esoteric equations about measuring a stock's alpha and comparing it to its beta, he lights up the campfire and starts telling stories.”

Enjoy the read, and the journey!

4. The Essays of Warren Buffett: Lessons for Corporate America

The fifth edition of The Essays of Warren Buffett: Lessons for Corporate Americacontinues a 25-year tradition of collating Warren Buffett's philosophy in a historic collaboration between Mr. Buffett and Prof. Lawrence Cunningham. As the book Buffett autographs most, its popularity and longevity attest to the widespread appetite for this unique compilation of Mr. Buffett’s thoughts that is at once comprehensive, non-repetitive, and digestible. New and experienced readers alike will gain an invaluable informal education by perusing this classic arrangement of Mr. Buffett's best writings.

“Larry Cunningham has done a great job at collating our philosophy.”—Warren Buffett

"Larry Cunningham takes Buffett's brilliant letters to a still-higher level by organizing them into single-subject chapters. The book begins, moreover, with an excellent introduction by Larry.”—Carol Loomis

“The book on Buffett—a superb job.”—Forbes

“Extraordinary—full of wisdom, humor, and common sense.”—Money

“A classic on value investing and the definitive source on Buffett.”—Financial Times

5. Too Big to Fail: Inside the Battle to Save Wall Street

They were masters of the financial universe, flying in private jets and raking in billions. They thought they were too big to fail. Yet they would bring the world to its knees.

Andrew Ross Sorkin, the news-breaking New York Times journalist, delivers the first true in-the-room account of the most powerful men and women at the eye of the financial storm - from reviled Lehman Brothers CEO Dick 'the gorilla' Fuld, to banking whiz Jamie Dimon, from bullish Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson to AIG's Joseph Cassano, dubbed 'The Man Who Crashed the World'.

Through unprecedented access to the key players, Sorkin meticulously re-creates frantic phone calls, foul-mouthed rows and white-knuckle panic, as Wall Street fought to save itself.

#finance #investing #investing books #finance books

2 notes · View notes

diveronarpg · 5 years ago

Photo

In fair Verona, our tale begins with DAPHNE ALLARD, who is THIRTY-ONE years old. She is often called DIANA by the CAPULETS and works as a EMISSARY. She uses SHE/HER pronouns.

TW: FAT SHAMING, BULLYING

Trying to encapsulate Daphne Allard is like trying to catch lightning in a bottle, the moonlight on your eyelashes, or the ray of the sun upon your tongue. She is simply that enigmatic, so much so that there are truly those who believe her to be something otherworldly, something magical. How could they not believe it, when it seemed that SERAPHIM bowed at her feet while cherubs adorned her cheeks with sweet, rosy pink kisses? It’s not so difficult to believe since it seemed near impossible to deny anything to the apple-cheeked child that would roam up and down the grand halls of her parent’s estate. Frequently, she would pad down to the kitchen late at night to beg the patissier to grant her one or two small macarons while the glittering guests mingled in her parents’ ballroom and they were helpless to her whims, sighing begrudgingly as she plucked the treat from their palm and went merrily on her way. What they didn’t see was how she snuck out and passed her treat to the dirty, awaiting hands of those less fortunate than her, or how she stole away the blankets from her bed and placed it on the shoulders of the children who shivered on the dirty, cobbled streets day after day. All anyone would ever see is the princess whose ears were adorned with bright, glimmering diamonds -- whose bright, shining smile and glittering eyes seemed better suited to the vapid day-to-day responsibilities of a DEBUTANTE. Lock her in an ivory castle and do away with the key, for she was a child far too precious to see the vileness and hardships of life.

But the Allards could not protect her forever, try as they did to shield their precious porcelain doll. Didn’t they know that children could be just as cruel as their parents? Foolishly, they had thought that sending her out of Verona to live abroad in France would spare her from the atrocities of man, but girls could be far more wicked when left to their own devices. They knew where she came from, how the city from which she proudly came was full of roaches and demons. They wondered if her spirit would be just as difficult to kill. Day after day they would ridicule her, isolate her, HOUND her like the harpies that they were -- words sharp as knives, tongues lashing like whips. Gifts that her parents gave her, they would ruin, forcing her to hide it away, like a dragon hoarding gold. Though she spoke French impeccably, they mocked her for the way that her tongue curled around the words, how she gestured emphatically, and for every morsel that she ate. Little did they know the VENGEANCES that she took upon them, how she would steal away the money from their wallets, the odd earring and the errant ring. The fools didn’t even know what they were missing -- for a couple of hours they would huff and puff before their parents would send them something far more expensive as a salve for their wounded hearts. But Daphne would console herself for her trespasses against them by knowing that the money she had made by pawning their jewels off would allow a widow and child to keep their shoddy apartment, or that the beggars in the city square would have something in their stomachs for that night.

It became a habit of hers, the heady warmth of bettering another’s life became the most potent drug she knew. She bettered her skills, crafting them so that slipping priceless watches from the wrist of an arrogant suitor was as easy and thoughtless as brushing a comb through her hair. By the time she returned to Verona, she was determined to never relinquish that high -- though she loved her city, she did not balk from the truth: the city needed a SAVIOR. And the only way to do so was to ruthlessly weed out those that threatened to choke it; she knew that she could only do so by purging it from within. Her parents had a long-standing relationship with the Capulets, but had insisted that Daphne -- their sweet, apple-cheeked child -- could never be useful to them. What was more useful, though, than MONEY? Money could more or less buy you anything, and a place in the Capulet ranks was to be no exception. She had prepared for her ties to them to choke her, to smother out what there was of her light. But the deeper she delved into the world of the mafia, the more she thrived. It was an intoxicating thing, the power that came with ranking among the deified of the city, rivaled only by the rush of knowing that someone owed their life to you.

Being a heroine or peddling something quite like it -- she had somehow allowed both to become her POISON. And the people of the city were none the wiser. They knew her as the socialite, as the doted-on girl who was set to inherit a fortune. Their bright star, their shining light who was perhaps the one beautiful thing unmarred and untainted by the blood that ran through the streets. In a way they were right, Daphne was shining and beautiful as ever, but so was the sun and it burned just as brightly as she. It warmed and healed, it scorched and purged. She looks in the mirror each night, lips bare and eyes wide, knowing that she too has the ability to save the city or the power to rule it as she desired. They loved her, they were devoted to her, and she loved them too. Each night she feels her throat tighten with the knowledge of the power that sits at the tip of her fingers, and though she LOATHES to admit it, she has created a drug of her own making, one that gets more potent each passing day. Before she looks away from the mirror, turns away from that Aphrodite-like creature, she can’t help the brief, barely-acknowledged wish that her parents had kept her locked away in that ivory tower. Perhaps, then, the city might be saved from those vices of hers that threatened to ruin them all.

BEAU RENARD: Husband-To-Be. He is presented like Apollo -- a golden boy, a warm shining sun amidst the glittering stars of Verona. However, it would be more accurate to liken him to Hades, ruler of the dead, isolated and far too keen to wear a bone-made crown upon his head. She knows what her duty is, and she is more than happy to fulfill it. After all, marriage is nothing more than a contractual agreement between two adults and it would benefit them both. Although, it seemed like the scales were tipped a little more in his favor; he was blessed enough to be wed to the darling of Verona, after all. Still, though, there is hope that whatever frigid wall he has placed between them comes tumbling down some way or another. She looks at her parents and sees a romance more pivotal than that between the moon and the sea, so no one can blame her for the wish in her heart to have something -- someone -- to call her own, and for that person in turn to say the same and mean it.

RENZO CAROZZA: Achilles Heel. She isn’t a foolish girl conned by pretty faces and honey-sweet words, but there is something about Renzo that strikes a chord in her already bleeding heart. Perhaps it is because of the abyss that reflects in his eyes that she longs to cast out, longs to fill with something greater than that gaping maw of emptiness. He treats her as he does every other person -- with kisses upon her cheek, words that could coax the devil into whispering a prayer, touches that could lull a raging dragon into a slumber. But there are these still moments where they catch one another’s gaze and it feels as though he holds a knife pointed at her heart, as though he is witnessing the sun dawn for the first time. Then he glances away and the world breathes once more. She cannot understand why nor does she dare too, but it is there all the same and nothing she does can get him to relinquish this hold that he has over her. Daphne cannot blame him -- she can’t bring herself to either.

TAMURA CHIKO: Leverage. There are small amusements and joys that she allows herself to indulge in, and creating the mirage that is Chiko’s wealth is one of them. When she had instigated this little ploy with him, it had initially been because she thought them a better person than they were, someone who would truly make something of themselves. But, as with all things in Verona, they proved to be just as dastardly as the rest of its inhabitants -- and she became all the wiser for it. The charade that they continued to pander to seemed to place them deeper and deeper into her debt, but she was far too amused by how everyone seemed to eat it up, both Montagues and Capulets alike. Their enigmatic persona was nothing more than a thinly veiled self-made man, and yet Verona seemed to whisper about them as if they were a god. She wondered, though, if they knew how she intended to use their secret. But, for now, she was all too content to watch them and let them believe that they were a puppet without strings.

PANDORA PHAN: Wildcard. She had not intended to save them -- she had thought that they were another soul, caught in the crossfire that was the war between the Montagues and the Capulets. A young soldier was too keen to wave their gun about and Daphne had saved Pandora’s father just in time, rushing them to the hospital, ensuring that he would live and breathe another day. Then Pandora had stumbled into the room, seen her father’s forlorn form and that is what Daphne knew what she had done. Moreover, she realized the debt that was owed to her, one that would undoubtedly earn her power in the Capulets that none could hope to have. It had become an oddly satisfying thing, being in the same room as the great Pandora Phan and knowing the great power that she could hold over her head.

Daphne is portrayed by TARA LYNN and was written by ROSEY. She is currently TAKEN by DIANA.

#lsrpg #literate rp #bio rp #crime rp #shakespeare rp #daphne allard #cap #w #t #tw

11 notes · View notes

elliemarchetti · 5 years ago

Text

Somewhere to Start (part 10)

Quite sad but it needed to be done

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Other Harry Potter fics:

Slytherin!Hermione AU (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

The Deal (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

The Polaroids The Sixth and Seventh Polaroids

Memories of a Survivor

Words: 1486

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were in front of the potion class along with Pansy and her Slytherin girls gang, all intent on looking at something that Hermione couldn't see, giggling like mischievous children.

"Here they are!" exclaimed Pansy, who held a copy of the Witch Weekly, “Read this Granger, maybe you’ll find something interesting!" she exclaimed, tossing the paper at her, before entering the classroom with her housemates. Hermione catch the newspaper and perplexed she took place with her friends at a table at the back of the room.

"What did she meant?" asked Ron, equally puzzled, and as soon as Snape turned his back to write down the ingredients of the potion on the blackboard, Hermione quickly flipped through the magazine under the desk until, in the middle section, they found what they were looking for: a photo of Harry opened a brief report signed by Rita Skeeter about his supposed love affairs in which not only his sad story was told for the umpteenth time, although he had repeatedly underlined the fact that he didn’t like the fact that his parents' image and their sacrifice were being exploited, but wherein the woman made Hermione look like a social climber who played with both Harry and Viktor’s feelings. If she couldn't care less about that part, she was far more perplexed about Skeeter knowing that Viktor had invited her to spend the summer with him in Bulgaria and that she had mentioned precisely how the boy had told her he felt for her after the second task. Viktor couldn't have released an interview on such a sensitive topic, moreover with Rita Skeeter, right? Not that she was able to focus particularly on the issue, since Snape noticed the presence of the newspaper and snatched it from her lap, beginning to read it aloud to the whole class, with blatant pauses to allow his students to laugh, making it sound ten times more disgusting.

"Really moving," he concluded, with a sneering smile, rolling up the magazine, while the Slytherins continued to laugh. "I think it's better to separate you, so you can concentrate on your potions instead on your complicated love life. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger over there, next to Miss Parkinson. Potter, that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

Furious, Hermione threw her ingredients and bag into the cauldron and dragged it to the vacant seat next to Pansy.

"All these attentions seem to have gone to your head," Pansy said softly, when the rest of her friends got back to work. Hermione didn't argue: she knew she was just trying to provoke her in a desperate attempt to make Gryffindor lose more than twenty points but it wouldn't work, so while the girl kept talking so softly that no one else could hear her, Hermione continued to pound her beetles, then pour them into the cauldron, and finally went on to slice the ginger roots. As a child she had never considered herself a violent person, but having a knife in her hand so close to Pansy that whispered in her ear all the wickedness that her petty little mind could conceive tempted her a lot.

"So I warn you, Granger," the girl went on, unaware of what her victim was fantasizing about "famous or not, if I catch you just looking at Draco in a way that I don’t like..."

Hermione had to restrain herself from laughing at her: "I would never approach your precious boyfriend, Parkinson, even if he was the last man on earth. Indeed, if I can be honest, I am happy for you: you’re perfect for each other.”

Those seemingly nice words displaced the Slytherin, who had no time to think of other bad things to say to her as someone knocked on the cellar door.

"Come in." Snape said in his usual voice, and the whole class turned to look as the door opened and a rather nervous Professor Karkaroff entered. Hermione was too far away to be able to hear the exchange between the two, but she gave Harry, who was right in front of the desk, a meaningful look. It was better for him to quote her every word if he didn't want to be forced to face someone of a much more vengeful nature than Rita Skeeter.

"We need to talk," Viktor said, sneaking closer to Hermione, barely opening his lips, determined not to be heard by anyone. The shop was semi-empty, but given what happened, he rather be safe than sorry, although, according to Andrei, he was starting to be paranoid. The girl winced, but, once she informed her friends, followed him quite sadly, probably aware that sooner or later that moment would come. She had managed to avoid him for a whole day, but once the weekend came she would’ve no excuses to escape, especially during a trip ad Hogsmeade.

"What's so urgent?" she asked, once they had left Gladrags Wizardwear, a store selling hideous socks, where they were buying a gift for a house elf. Viktor looked around to make sure they were alone: although the air had warmed up and there was a trip going on, the road was deserted, which allowed him to speak without having to walk further away.

"I didn't release that interview. I don't know who heard it, even if I have a couple of suspects, or why they went to bring it back to Skeeter, but it wasn't me." he said in one breath, but judging by the absence of reactions in the girl, she must’ve known already. So why was she avoiding him? The answer came a little later, in the form of a question.

"Did you know Karkaroff was a Death Eater?"

Viktor was puzzled for a few seconds, wondering what this might have to do with her avoiding him, but realized how much it could alert her by remembering her blood status.

"Everyone knows this even if many don't like to talk about it." he replied, trying not to sound too annoyed. It wasn’t his fault that she wasn’t aware of it and after all he didn’t share his principal’s ideals, which seemed to him to have shown her at every opportunity.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she asked, making Viktor even more nervous because he couldn't understand why he should’ve done it and especially when.

"I didn't think it was important." he replied, realizing a second too late the implications of his sentence.

"So you don't care about what those like me had to face? Just because you're not a Muggleborn doesn't mean you don't have to be interested in it. I can't even believe I shared a table with him, I even talked to him! How many of your friends are willing to turn a blind eye on the thing?" she snapped, and Viktor didn't even know how to stop her from rambling no sense, too exhausted to entertain that conversation. Why, despite continuing to show her that he had no intention of hurting her, that he cared more about her than anyone else in the world, she continued to question his feelings and his attitude? So he took her by the shoulders, and she stopped abruptly, raising her face to look at him. Her eyes were hard, an expression that Viktor would never have wanted to see turned towards him, but he was tired of always having to give the best, of having to be constantly under scrutiny, when all he wanted was to be able to make what they had work, though, by now, he began to doubt if there was really something, partly also because of the girl ignoring his statement after the second task. How could she not understand how he felt underwater, when he had seen her asleep and tied up, when he had, at least in part, feared losing her?

"I don't know what idea you have of this whole story, but it seems to me I have shown you that I want the best for you and I support you in all your battles. I came here to apologize, but all I receive are accusations rather heavy about my morality and I'm sick of your constant questioning how much I care about you when I constantly show you. I can't do better than that and I don't even know if you really want me to do it. If this is your, rather indelicate, way to keep your distance and put me back in my place, have the courage to tell me clearly so that I can go on. I don't expect an answer now, but as long as you're not ready to trust me, please don't mess with me because it's painful.” he said, before letting her go and turning his back on her, certain that if he stopped a little longer, he wouldn’t be able to keep his word.

#somewhere to start #krumione #hermione granger #viktor krum #dransy #draco malfoy #pansy parkinson #vincent crabbe #gregory goyle #harry potter #ron weasley #severus snape #igor karkaroff

13 notes · View notes

lucyhblack · 5 years ago

Link

The skeletons want explanations.

After leaving the lamias in the room, and reassuring Papyrus and Stretch that the cat wouldn't hurt the little hybrids (and pluck a promise from Black that he would not try anything with the feline), the tall skeletons went to the kitchen.

-Okay spit it out! How the hell did this happen?

-LANGUAGE! - Protested Papyrus. Stretch scowled, but didn't take his attention off the skeleton sitting in front of him. Papyrus had taken another chair and Slim preferred to lean against the door that led into the living room, dividing his attention between the kitchen and the other room where the hybrids were.

Edge sighed and recounted the events that led to his current situation.

-Wait, wait. Is that it? He almost eats Cherry and you adopt him? - Stretch asked incredulously. From the faces of Papyrus and Slim, the latter with a scowl worthy of Edge himself, they could not understand how Edge could let such a threat coexist with his mate (as if he would allow a threat to his precious love!).

-He didn't do it...

-YES BUT HE TRIED! - Cut Papyrus. Your tone a little louder than normal.

-Not. He hunted it, but not to eat it. - Edge stared into the background of his cup, the truth being that even now it was a little difficult to understand Cherry's explanation of the whole incident.

He himself could not believe that he had accepted everything the other had said (but not accepting would be like saying that he did not believe or trust the judgment of his mate, and while he could have a divergent opinion, he would never try to break Cherry's trust) but I could not deny that since that day Doomfanger had acted in a very measured and protective way with the lamia. Moreover, as the phrase said: Actions speak louder than words, and all the cat's actions corroborate Cherry's claims.

-If it wasn't to eat him, then what for? - Stretch continued the argument.

-Apparently to make friends.

Silence followed this comment. Papyrus only blinked a few times, it seemed from his face that Edge had begun to speak Russian. Stretch had an expression as if he wanted to strangle him (and he can't deny the little twinkle of contentment that came from seeing that expression. It was good to be on the opposite side for a change). Normally he and Slim were the only ones who were vague and annoying with their explanations, leaving Edge and Papyrus about to scream in frustration.

-Explain. - Demanded Slim the only one in silence so far, and Edge plunged back into the memories.

***

The tall skeleton felt its legs fail and its knees hit the ground hard.

Cherry squealed in alarm and let go of the purring ball, slipping off the couch and sliding into the tall skeleton.

Edge's mind was blank. He could still feel his magic coursing through him, ready to manifest in an attack. With slightly trembling arms he reached out and took his mate.

It was proof Cherry completely trusted him for not shuddering at the sight of his eyes still smoldering with magic. He could feel her, all the murderous intent that enveloped the tall skeleton, ready for the attack. Still, he was not frightened or backed away as his hands came closer.

Bringing it closer to his face, Edge rained checks on the lamia. Drawing a small tear from his sweater and a slight sweat of his skull, he was intact. Too bad he couldn't say the same about his own nerves. It was fortunate that he was a skeleton monster; if he were human or even a hairy monster, he would be gray now.

And thinking in white...

He looked at the couch where the cat watched them with sleepy eyes. The cat blinked slowly before starting to lick his paw and wipe his face. Edge rose slowly without taking his eyes off the beast that will almost destroy his world.

-BOOSSS! - Cherry's alarmed scream pulled him out of his trance and made him stop. He looked at the little one who, seeing his lover's eyes again, looked at his other hand. Edge followed his gaze and found a sharp-edged red bone construction in it. He blinked in surprise, had not noticed that he had conjured an attack, nor was it clinging to him so hard that the bone creaked and cracked. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax and make the attack disappear into glowing fragments. When he opened them again, he faced the cat, which still showed no sign of discomfort. In fact the demonic animal stared at him placidly before turning his head, rubbing it on the couch seat and stretching ready for a nap. He felt his fingers contract, wanting the gun back in his hand.

-Boss? - Cherry called again as he felt a new spike of skeletal irritability.

Edge this time listened at first and turned away from the room. Better to stay away from the cat for now. He went into the kitchen, pulled out a chair and carefully placed Cherry on the table. The two stared at each other for a few seconds.

-What the hell was that? - Her annoyed tone made the lamia shrink. Cherry held the hem of her sweater. He knew Boss would never hurt him. He could feel that the nervousness was becoming irritation, and because of what had happened, it was perfectly normal for Boss to do so, he wasn't afraid, just couldn't control his mannerisms.

-He... he... kidding... - Cherry stammered nervously.

Edge considered getting up and going into the yard to dump some of his anger, but he wasn't going to leave Cherry alone with that loose beast in his house and couldn't take him with him. His attitude would only make his mate more agitated.

He controlled himself. He was the great and terrible Papyrus! He would rule over his genius.

-Playing? He was hunting you Cherry! - At least his tone was calmer, even though the anger generated by fear was still there.

-Yesss... no... - Cherry twisted in anguish, wanting to explain, but not quite sure how. How to explain that he knew as soon as he was "captured" that it was all a just kidding? How to explain the communication of souls?

At first he was too panicked to feel the intentions behind the attack. As soon as he saw the cat arming an attack he had thought of nothing but running away. Then he was too preoccupied with escaping to pay attention to his intentions.

When the cat landed on his tail holding him he thought it was his end. He had cringed, bracing himself to feel those sharp claws tearing at him, but what he felt was something damp against the back of his head, followed by something rough and wet running all over his skull.

The shock had lifted him from the state of panic and at the same time he felt the amusing and loving vibrations emanating from the great beast above him. Before she could process what was happening, he felt fangs grabbing her clothes and being carried awkwardly to the couch where he was immediately buried in an avalanche of smelly fur and waves of contentment, just as he was with her brothers (only less stinky or hairy).

The cat didn't want to eat him, wanted to play and snuggle with him!

Slipping out of the pile of fur, he tried to focus beyond the adrenaline still coursing through his bones and sent a wave of curiosity testing to see if it was the same with his brothers.

It was not the same connection. With the cat it was not so clear or so precise, but he was sure he was able to grasp the feline's intentions well, and what he found, calming him immediately, was that the cat had no bad intentions toward him.

Edge waited while Cherry tried to organize the ideas.

-He... playing... he... - Cherry made a movement with her hands trying to find the words. - He like Black! - said triumphantly. - It's not good to expresss yoursself. Want friendssship.

The tall skeleton tried to decipher what the little one said.

-Are you trying to say that he hunted you as a way of 'asking' to be your friend? - He asked incredulously.

Cherry just nodded anxiously. It wasn't exactly that, but he couldn't express it right. Now the important thing was to make sure the cat wasn't a threat. -He is good! Just... maybe... - He shrugged - Do it... different?

Boss slapped his face in frustration. - He chased you around the room and attacked you!

-I ran, he thought jokingly!

As much as he didn't want to admit it, it made sense. Cats liked to chase things on the go. The cat was not going to attack Cherry, he intended to approach and check on the little creature that was in the house of the monster that fed him, but when he ran, he just did what his instincts dictated and chased him. As soon as he captured him and investigated what he was, noting that, although strange, the little being was the companion of the feeding monster, he immediately accepted it. -He didn't hurt. Look look! - Reaching out, he spun around, showing himself. Edge sighed loudly, still unconvinced, but the adrenaline had finally worn off and seeing that his well-intact mate was more than enough to calm him down.

That didn't stop her from almost jumping out of her chair when she felt something rub down her legs and before he could check, the hairball bounced to the table. Edge was quick grabbing Cherry and placing him on his chest.

-It's alright Boss. - Cherry tried to reassure by patting the fingers that held him. The cat sat dignibly with its tail wrapped around its paws and looked at the two skeletons solemnly.

Cherry forced herself trying to get to the cat and making sure everything was fine. Not even believing that he was going to do that, especially knowing the fame of sneaky, sneaky cats, he reached out, ready to push him away at the slightest hint of aggression.

The cat leaned over and Cherry stood calmly in Boss's hands as it sniffed. The animal pushed its nose more insistently into the little hybrid making him giggle. A low sound of contentment escaped the cat as he tried to rub his face against the lamia.

Edge was shocked in surprise. Cherry, who was afraid of almost anything bigger than him and usually wouldn't let anyone get close, was more than delighted with the stray cat.

When asked why he wasn't afraid he just shrugged and answered.

-At first scared, but he's good. He wants to be friends... - He stopped and looked at the cat that was staring at him. Edge watched, fascinated, as they communicated through the mind. He had seen it before... where... where... ah yes! Blue and black! Did they do that sometimes, even without looking at each other. As Stretch called it? Soul communication?

-He wants to thank you! - Cherry spoke suddenly. - He... thank... for the food... and shelter... for not... - Cherry made a confused face -Ah! Don't be mean to him. He... protect the houssse... protect Cherry! - finished excited.

Edge felt the last of his tension leave him. I was glad I didn't have to kill the cat. He still didn't trust the feline 100%, but for now it didn't seem like he was going to cause him any more problems.

-Hum... Boss?- Cherry still in her hands, had turned completely to Edge.

Oh ow! Edge thought as he saw the hybrid's face. He knew that beggar look.

-Ca... can we ssstay with him? Please, please! - He begged to see Boss's incredulous face - I.. I can help take care... - And wouldn't that be a funny sight? The lamia was smaller than the cat itself! How she would "take care" of him Boss had no idea. - Pleeeaasssse! - He clasped his little hands together and widened his eyes in the best doggy style.

Damn, he had to stop letting Blue teach Cherry these things.

He looked from the lamia to the cat. Their red spotlights fixed on the yellow orbs. Something silent and inexplicable passed through them.

-Right... But there will be rules!

-YEESSS!!! - Exploded Cherry with arms raised and a huge smile.

Yeah... It was worth certain compromises to make your lover so happy.

***

Edge finished and faced the other three skeletons waiting for their reactions. Papyrus and Stretch still looked incredulous, but there was that glint of almost childlike curiosity deep in their eyeballs. Edge could even wait for a "feline scientific loan" request from the lazy skeleton. Well, good luck with that! Despite what it seemed, Edge had no more control of the cat now than before, which meant that it appeared and disappeared at will.

A loud shout interrupted his thoughts. They all moved at the same time and there no was just traffic jam at the door, as Slim was still standing and only had to turn to reach the passage and Stretch of course took a shortcut. He ended up being the third to arrive, followed by Papyrus who slapped him on the back as he stopped abruptly. The polite skeleton fumbling with "what happened" questions and apologies for the bump.

Everyone stopped in shock watching the scene they encountered.

Somehow Black had mounted Doomfanger and it was on purpose, or for something the lamia had done, the cat was running like a tornado across the room, darting across the couch and using the walls to make sharp turns. Meanwhile, Black clung to his skin and screamed as wildly as the feline's run, and yet, beneath the hybrid's scream, Edge could hear the feline's claws scraping on the excessively clean floor, trying to get some traction.

Slim raised his hand, but a look at his anguished expression told him that he saw the same problem he had seen. It would be impossible for Slim to use blue magic on such a fast target and as the two souls would be so close there would still be the risk of grabbing one and not the other or using too much magic and causing more damage. Edge stepped forward, thinking of trying to physically stop them, but then the cat turned to the other lamias watching everything on the floor and stopped abruptly. Black was thrown on the pads strategically (and aesthetically) placed for the lamias to assemble. There was a brief moment of silence when everyone stood in shock before Black burst from the screaming cushions.

-AGAIN!!! AGAIN!!!

-NO, NO, MY TIME!!! - Blue shouted.

Black got out of the pillows and started arguing with his twin. Red who had his hands on his teeth nervously ran to the cat and began to flatter him, Doom did not look the least bit shaken, either by the running or the discussion of the snakes. Sans, who also had his hands over his teeth, surely holding back his laughter and not worrying, stared at them with a sassy wink to his still-paralyzed audience.

Slim plummeted over the wall looking finished. Stretch's eyes were bright with amusement, and Papyrus seemed uncertain whether to fight the hybrids or burst out laughing too.

It was good to know that adding the ball of chaos to your life would not just be HIS death. But seeing the joy of his mate, and that of his little brothers and the reflection of that feeling in the expressions of the skeletons gathered there he knew that he was not the only one who did and would make crazy concessions to continue to see this happiness in his little love.

Even if it meant adopting a pet for him.

#undertale #underfell #underswap #swapfell #sans #papyrus #fontcest #fellcest #swapcest #swapfellcest #bittybones #bitty sans #bitty lamia #lamia sans #doomfanger #my fic #no my au #how to get a pet for your lamia

13 notes · View notes

buymyblood · 6 years ago

Text

The Morning After- Part 4- with @InMyOwnMhis & @HowBoutDemWings.

Jagger:

-I was settling in to all that maple and cinnamon about halfway through my stack and well into the ease of Lassiter's company when I caught sight of her in my periphery. Her scent was fresh, both citrus and floral standing out even with breakfast dominating the arena.

Faster than someone could say leggo my Eggo, I was out of my chair, bending the knee to Ambellina. I didn't know much about the formalities of my kind, save for what Haven had managed to download to me, including the shaky grasp I had on the Old Language, but diverting my eyes I gave it the old college try. My apology might have been garbled, hell if I knew, but what I lacked in know how I hoped I made up for in tone. I wanted to wipe away my offense and atone for it, because even though we were only just acquainted I knew she was obstinate.

Before moving on to the last part, I shot a look Lassiter's way. Funny, that was all it took to steel myself instead of backing out of what I'd already promised I'd do, his very presence reinforcing my backbone.

Looking back Ambellina's way, this time I got the view of her in full and how my heart lurched in my chest...She reminded me so much of my mother, far less broken and fairer, but reminiscent nonetheless. Holding onto my figurative balls, I continued in English.-

Ambellina....if it's still on offer...I would be humbled for the gift of your vein.

Ambellina:

~I gave the courtesy of softly clearing my throat when I entered the doorway of the kitchen, and looked around to see Lassiter and Jagger sitting at the small kitchen table enjoying breakfast. My steel plated heart clenched unexpectedly. It had been so long since I enjoyed first meal with more than just the empty chairs across from me. Even before my transition, most mornings I spent tiptoeing my way through the kitchen to make whatever created the least amount of noise so I didn’t wake my mahmen...or whomever her lay of the night had been.

More often than not, I would go without because she hadn’t gone for groceries and refused to give me money to do it for her. But here, before me were not one but two males who had gone to the effort of making what looked like a very lovely meal while I had sent my woes down the drain. They appeared to be half way through and I had missed my chance to join, all because I had indulged in a purging of emotions.

Refusing to feel sorry for myself, I lifted my chin and was about to join them at the table when Jagger was out of his seat and before I could tell him it wasn’t necessary to stand for me, he was down on a knee...speaking in the old language. My breath got caught in my throat while my hands grabbed at the hem of my borrowed shirt, twisting it between my fingers as his apology hit a place in my chest that managed to slip past a crack in the self-imposed armour covering the organ that was working so diligently at pushing the blood he had given me through my veins.

I was well versed in the old language, thanks to one of my doggen who had taught it to me just so I could read the journals of my grand mahmen and while Jagger’s words were a little minced at times, the point had been delivered in his remorseful tone. I was taken aback and for the second time since being brought here by the angel, I could feel my vision growing wavy but I refused to allow myself the indulgence of letting more tears stain my cheeks. Blinking quickly, my gaze stayed fixed upon Jagger until he was done with his apology.

I was at a loss for words and looked to Lassiter for some help but he was sitting there like he hadn’t a clue what was being said. I supposed that meant angels didn’t speak the old language, so no help there. Jagger must have sensed my shock with what he had said because he continued for all of us to listen, and when he did, I was taken aback to the point where my jaw positively dropped. My recovery was slow despite the immediate thoughts that began to churn in my mind.

Right away, I nodded and moved closer to him, reaching behind me to pull my hair over my shoulder, exposing the side of my throat that wasn’t ravaged by Rhancid before pushing the sleeve of my shirt up to my elbow.~

Of course it’s still on offer, Jagger. You saved my life and I wish to repay my blood debt. Moreover, you’ve allowed me to remain here safe from the sun and have given me clothing to wear and provided access to your bathroom to clean up. I owe you immensely, so I’d like to do that now, or I can wait until you’ve finished eating?

Jagger:

- I just barely caught the shock that overtook her features before Ambellina moved forward. She flipped the tables on me, offering throat and wrist, the former of which I’d never experienced. I didn’t flinch, go me with the growth. After being so viciously savaged and leagues beyond disrespected, she was so eager to repay the favor with a male she’d only just met. Her grace was staggering and put my fears to shame. Still that didn’t ready me for it. She was more than vein to tap and she needed to feel that. I WANTED her to feel that. Getting to my feet, I felt as though I loomed over her and hoped I wasn’t too imposing. I turned a quarter, pulling out one of the available chairs.-

Would you join us?

-Even though I’d plunged into all this thanks to a shove in the right direction from Lassiter, I was hardly through my hesitation. If things moved too fast, I’d be wading through a lifetime of crap and baggage I didn’t want to unpack. It wasn’t about me though, it really wasn’t. She’d just been through hell at the hands of a shitty male, I wanted to show her compassion, I wanted her to feel communion.-

If French toast isn’t your cup of tea, Lassiter will make you whatever you want.

-hoping my dry humor wasn’t DOA and that the smirk in my tone did the trick, I shot a grin the angel’s way before turning back to Ambellina-

Maybe then you’ll allow me the chance to explain a few things.

Ambellina:

~Jagger was collecting moments of surprise with me quicker than those human girls selling their addictive cookies...he wanted me to join them for breakfast, all I could do was nod and as I took a seat, my eyes lifted to Lassiter’s waiting for him to insert his loud opinions but they never came. Instead he kept shovelling forkfuls of French toast into his mouth. The only reaction he gave was a wink and a grin when Jagger volunteered that he’d make me something else if I wanted. He did not need to go to that kind of trouble for me, he had done enough. With a small smile of gratitude for both the offer and Jagger’s dry humour, I shook my head as I spoke.~ That won’t be necessary, I will eat what you both are having.

~I watched as Jagger retrieved a plate previously stacked with a few slices of already made French toast, the opened oven sent the warm aroma wafting over before the arrival of my plate. When it was set down in front of me, I reached for the maple syrup and drizzled it over my stack before using the knife to cut a bite sized piece. As I lifted the fork to my mouth and closed my lips around the tines, I held back a moan and looked between the two males, waiting for someone to break the quiet silence that had developed.

When it was clear that Lassiter’s only plan was to keep his mouth full, I licked the sticky syrup from my lips and turned my attention to Jagger.~

Thank you for your kind generosity, this meal...I haven’t had one like this in quite some time. The companionship, that is. ~I’d never been one to feel like I needed to fill silences but I wasn’t blind to the fact that I had interrupted their casual conversation, and I didn’t want them to feel like they couldn’t continue in my presence.~

Jagger:

-Where had Lassiter’s gift of gab run off to? The dish and the proverbial spoon were still on the table so couldn’t have done the runaway thing with them. Clearly Ambellina and I weren’t used to shooting the shit in the natural way he did. I nudged his foot with mine under the table, checking for signs of life while I finished the bite in my mouth before putting my tongue to use.-

That makes two of us. I’ve been eating alone for decades. -I shrugged a shoulder, stuffing another bite in my mouth, brows drawing together in thought while I stabbed another forkful, holding it up in prep for delivery.-

That’s the tip of the ‘berg when it comes to my issue with other kinds of… eating.

-eyes flashing to Ambellina, going straight to her neck, the side that’s still in recovery, taking another blow in my chest region. How in the fuck could any male treat someone so precious with such rabidness? Swallowing thickly while getting pulled into the vortex that was my family tree. How in the hell had my father done it time and time again? How was I his progeny? Pinching the bridge of my nose as bile creeps up the back of my throat, threatening the moment before I choke it back down on another swallow of the French toast. I didn’t know if it was the company or the cinnamon, but it did taste pretty fancy.-

Ambellina:

~I took my time with chewing each bite that was delivered past my lips, whomever had made the French toast had quite the culinary skills and I intended on enjoying each bite until my plate was empty. It had been many hours since my last meal, Jagger’s vein aside, that my stomach felt like a never ending pit. Fortunately for me, Jagger took a turn to fill the silence by offering a moment of similarity, though I was not surprised by his admission of eating alone, I was once more taken aback by his eating issues reveal. How could a vampire, who admitted to eating alone for decades live as long has he had if he did in fact have problems feeding. I wanted to understand, and more than that, be the female who helped him. He deserved that.

In the short time I had been in his company, it was abundantly clear he was someone who held everyone at more than arm's length, and I found myself wanting to know why. He was a handsome male and not at all lacking in proper manners which was a far cry from a lot of the males I had serviced, he could have any female he wanted if he was so inclined. There had to be an explanation.

When my plate was clear, I set my cutlery down and folded my hands in my lap. Lassiter was still somehow shovelling food in his mouth, which I took as a sign that it was my turn to speak.~ Feeding is something I am very good at, Jagger. I promise you, despite the condition I arrived here in, I am strong and can endure you at my vein. I will do whatever is needed to guarantee your iceberg does not grow in size.

~My gaze held Jagger’s as I spoke so he could see my conviction and determination. Somewhere between soaking in his claw foot tub and sharing first meal together, my excuse of wanting to repay my blood debt became less about keeping my promise to Ghiselle and more about a personal desire to help Jagger in a way that he had done for me. Suddenly the why of Lassiter’s silence became clear. The angel knew something more than we ourselves did, and now that I had food in my belly to go with the blood I had drank from from Jagger’s wrist, my mind was functioning at its usual sharp capacity.

It all snapped into place. Just like my past had dictated my path to selling my blood, something in Jagger’s past clearly had caused his aversion to feeding. A soft laugh at the realization bubbled up and quickly, my hand left my lap to reach across the table, covering one of his, squeezing firmly as I spoke.~ My blood, it is unlike most females. Feeding from me will endure you longer than is traditionally expected, which means you won’t need to worry about taking a vein as often. You don’t have to explain to me why your iceberg is as large as it is, just know, I understand your need to hold some type of control.

Jagger:

-I lost track of what was left on my plate as the taste of syrup faded on my tongue, when Ambellina’s eyes fixed on mine. Her voice was lulling, but the conviction in her eyes was downright steel. The color of her pupils seemed to converge in a storm of persuasion, maybe an optical illusion, but there was more going on behind that one gaze than most others held in a lifetime.

I’d already decided I’d take her vein, so the extra selling wasn’t needed, but she was less Avon-calling and more...something. Assuring? Yeah...yeah, that was the word. And wouldn’t you know I latched right on when the mention of her blood sustaining me longer was thrown in.

Maybe it would only take one time to make sure she got her ahvenging in and was safe before I faded off into that sunset I’d been planning before this fork in the road. I wanted to ask some follow ups about why her blood was different, but left well enough alone since she wasn’t ramming my iceberg with any Titanic questions. Seemed we had found the bounds of mutual respect in short order, which was maybe why I didn’t flinch when her hand covered mine. But... the anxiety over feeding was still crawling back up my spine. The fear of becoming a monster like my father still ruled my roost, and that wasn’t going to shake off in a day, no matter how many strides I’d taken. I was driven to see it through out of the aim of protective duty. Ambellina was no shrinking violet, and I was sure she could slit a throat were it to come right down to it, but still, I wouldn’t be able to take any kind of final breath without knowing Rhancid had gotten his due.-

My resume with females is not long, but I am sure you are not like any others in general, Ambellina. So…

-clearing my throat and swallowing a few times, breaking Ambellina’s gaze after a nod of my head to shoot my eyes Lassiter’s way- Hey, hate to break up your love affair with the French toast, but I still need you for this. Just... in case. And not here.

Lassiter:

<French toast. Crispy. Decadent. Syrupy goodness. After the lost opportunity to Big Mac my stomach, I was not at all about to rush this, and for more than being hungry reasons. These two at the table with me had to get their shit to move in the same direction if they stood a chance to heal some of those emotional scars. I could see it in the way they vocally danced around asking the hard hitting questions, the kind I never shied away from, but that didn’t mean they were completely blundering.

Not even Jagger’s kick under the table or those pleading ocean blues from Blondie could convince me to pipe up before the exact perfect moment. I had half a mind to make myself invisible to their eyes while they spoke, but at the risk of looking like those crazy uncles in Casper while I continued to eat, I resisted. Besides, I got the impression that my mere presence was enough to keep their vocal cords working. Definitely doing them a favour in the courage department. Without a doubt.

When my plate was nearing empty, I slowed the rate of fork to mouth speed then eyeballed up the forgotten piece on Jagger’s plate. He was so focused on Ambellina while she explained her magical extra hearty blood that he didn’t even notice as I stabbed my fork into his partially eaten piece of toast and slid it across to my plate. I managed to polish that off too, just in time for him to accuse me of having myself a love affair with the food. I laughed heartily and sat back in the chair, rubbing my full stomach and sent a wink his way.> Everyone who knows me, knows the Big Mac is my first love. But this here breakfast is my new mistress. Don’t tell Fritz he has some competition in the kitchen, he’ll never survive.

<I laughed again at the joke only I’d get as my eyes moved over to Blondie, and I licked my lips then sat forward to gather the plates, moving to my feet as I did so I could drop them off in the sink.> Alright, Blondie. This is your show. You tell me where I need to be to help this one sink fangs into that pretty throat of yours. Shall we take it to be bedroom? Or do y’all prefer the living room? <There it was, the uncomfortable logistical questions they had so perfectly avoided…served up for dessert. I looked over at Jagger as I set the dishes in the sink, lifting my pierced brow almost daring him to go back on his word.>

Ambellina:

~The angel’s boisterous laughter seemed to do the trick of breaking the heavy Jagger and I had managed to get ourselves in. Though, I had to give credit to the male, his dry humour was what had set Lassiter off. I listened as he spoke of someone called Fritz and mused to myself how we were supposed to know him when we’d only just met. It mattered not. The comment from Jagger was enough to get Lass back in motion for which I was grateful, until he started asking more questions than I had answers for. More than that, he was putting me in charge.

Summoning up my most professional self, I nodded then turned to Jagger who was starting to look uneasy. I chalked that up to his aforementioned lack of experience. That didn’t bother me, I had to coax more than a few nervous first-timers to my vein before and had always been successful. There was no way I was going to sour my record now. Pushing away from the table and rising to my feet, my voice held all the command my ears were used to hearing fall from mine lips. Those lips might have been lacking their traditional ruby paint but the stickiness from the syrup lingered and that was enough to phantom the feeling of one piece my preferred work uniform, not that I wasn’t grateful for the clothing that had been graciously offered to me.~ The living room. It’s neutral and that way, Jagger, your bedroom shall remain yours.

~I didn’t give him a chance to agree or disagree, I simply turned on my heels and exited the kitchen, feeling their eyes on my back. I took a strengthening breath and exhaled it slowly as I surveyed the options to feed Jagger from. His sofa would work. I could sit in upon the middle cushion, Lassiter could be beside me and Jagger could choose his own approach. That would hopefully remove some of the wariness I saw in his eyes when Lassiter had given me control over things.

As I sat and waited for the males to join me, I finger combed my hair, moving it to the side where Rhancid had ravaged my throat, covering what remained of my healing wounds and exposed the opposite side. Next, I rolled back the sleeve of my shirt all the way to my elbow, just in case taking my throat proved a challenge...even if it was the faster of the two methods, I wanted to be prepared. When I was done that and still hadn’t been joined, I cleared my throat and offered some dry humour of my own.~ I realize we do literally have all day for this, but the sooner you join me, the sooner I can show my thanks for first meal by washing the dishes.

Jagger:

-As soon as the angel found his tongue again, it was on about the French toast and even through a low chuckle, I had the strange and sudden urge to fire the pan back up and make him more. Stranger than the night itself was whatever switch had flipped inside my head. I didn’t have time to foray into all that-what-the-hell, because he dropped a few more suggestions like grenades.

“...sink fangs into the pretty throat.” BOOM.

“Shall we take it to the bedroom?” DOUBLE BOOM.

But despite the ricochet from those bombs, my eyes went on a rogue mission, straight to his throat and the thought of him in my bed.

Fucking what?

I thanked all appropriate creator entities in my head that Lassiter was busy with clearing the plates, missing the swallowing I was doing. When he gave me a look, the curve of that hoop through his brow catching the fluorescents, it drew my eyes to his, and I shrugged casually, while my insides were wavy gravy.

I looked to Ambellina and wanted to thank her because her mouth was still in working order, while the pre-feeding panic started to wake up inside. My throat felt tighter, the muscles on the back of my shoulders started to bunch up and finally the heart was pumping hard enough to generate power for a small village.

She stood with such poise and confidence, I knew this was not her first time with someone uneasy, and she baptized me with relief when she suggested the living room. She exited as quietly as she had entered while I sat in my stupor until she called out from the living room, and first I laughed for the twist of humor in her tone and then in objection to her suggestion of doing the dishes. Uh. No.

I pushed myself out from the table, sliding the chair back against it before detouring to Lassiter at the sink so I could be quiet. This feeding from someone new thing was unpredictable and I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt her. My eyes narrowed with seriousness at Lassiter when I spoke.- You have to restrain me. Please. I won’t be able to do it if I’m not feeling she is safe. -dropping the volume even lower- From me.

-I followed Ambellina’s lead, leaving the kitchen before Lass got to playing twenty questions with me, finding her on the couch, wrist already exposed. I had never taken the vein at my home except for during transition. This was different.

Taking quick strides before I was rendered paralyzed, I made my way to where she was, kneeling just to the right of her, where I could reach her wrist with ease and where Lassiter could pin me with boot or fist, if he sat where I thought he would. Fear kicking up at the thought of puncturing her delicate skin, bringing the beat of my heart further out of hibernation.- Just shy a not-shy angel, female.

3 notes · View notes