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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

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silver, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Who said humans were animals of wisdom? For Yoongi, they’re animals of regret. Does that justify him cheating on his girlfriend with her/you? Absolutely not.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, smut (fem reader, car sex, fingering, m-receiving oral); non-idol!AU; angst; cheating; don’t do this to your significant other, please; Yoongi’s POV

Bad decisions are born from frustration and resentment.

None of it was supposed to happen. His life was fine, perfect in some people’s eyes. He was dating the girl his parents had introduced him to because it made them happy. She was polite, had a good background, and a nice smile. There wasn’t anything wrong with her.

Except he felt miserable.

Min Yoongi felt suffocated, uninterested, and annoyed at their lack of chemistry. His girl was pretty, the conventional kind of prettiness that couldn’t be denied. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Maybe he just didn’t understand beauty or something. Maybe he was being selfish for wanting more. At the start, it was alright. It was a fun little game, figuring someone out. But instead of a maze, he was on a seesaw, trying to determine if this up and down was as simple was it seemed. It sucked. And now Yoongi wanted to get off, but it seemed too difficult. Too difficult to disappoint his parents, her parents, and her aspirations of him being a good little husband.

He wanted to throw up thinking about it.

And then, she was there.

Dark lipstick and a playful smile. Black eyeshadow, eyes like a panther. Silver rings that glimmered in the flashing club lights. Silver chain necklaces tangled in a mess around her neck, framing that slightly rounder face instead of the conformist v-line everyone was starving themselves for. Black oversized hoodie that hung on her smaller frame, paired with that short, short black dress paired with chunky black ankle boots. Thighs that he wanted to sink his teeth into and mold with his hands.

That night, Yoongi had sat there with his beer, fixated on this new presence and wishing for the first time that he was single as fuck. He didn’t know if it was because he was so unhappy in his current relationship or if it was because he liked the way she looked. It didn’t matter. He burned with jealousy as she chatted with the bartender, silver rings flashing as she moved her hands animatedly to her story. At home, Yoongi had a good little girl waiting for him with her vanilla tastes and it made him sick to his stomach.

The worst part was, other than being boring as fuck, his girl was fine.

He watched as she leaned on her hand, grinning as the bartender poured her another shot. The grin of someone who did not give a fuck what anyone thought of her actions. Yoongi wanted to shove his dick into that face.

His phone buzzed and he wanted to throw it across the club. Instead, he pulled it from his pocket with a neutral expression and checked his messages. His girlfriend asking if he was alright or if he needed to be picked up. He responded that he was fine and that he would call a taxi home to be safe. Told her he loved her and realized he didn’t even mean it.

He must be the awful one.

When he looked up, she was gone. Good. Maybe she had finally left to give him and his mind some peace.

Jeon Jungkook was looking around, blinking confusedly. The youngest in their group, Yoongi always thought he looked the cutest when he was bewildered. Yoongi raised his eyebrow.

“Something wrong, bro?”

Jungkook frowned. “Where’s Taehyung?”

Ah, yes. Kim Taehyung. The one Yoongi thought was the most trouble even though he was a year older than Jungkook. Maybe it was because they had different viewpoints and they often clashed in opinion, Yoongi finding him too childish and simple in mentality in comparison to his. But eventually they learned to get along – a different viewpoint is not necessarily a wrong one. Yoongi learned that being childish once in while might actually lighten his outlook on life.

Alright, to be honest he realized he was a bit of a pessimistic jackass.

In any case, it was with that question that shit started to go downhill. Because the next thing Yoongi knew, Taehyung’s boyish, boxy smile came back with a grin and dark lipstick smeared down his chin. Next time he was with his friends, she showed up again, elbow resting on Taehyung’s shoulder, looking cool and comfortable in her black leather jacket and tiny as fuck black T-shirt dress.

Yoongi hated it.

She wore too many silver accessories that flashed in the light and made her stand out. Her makeup was too dark and haunted him in his dreams. She would sit next to Taehyung like his pet panther, complimenting his dark hair and sharp jawline with her wildness. It was torture, because Yoongi knew that he had a pretty little thing with a cute little voice waiting for him at home. It wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was this dangerous-looking woman who climbed into Taehyung’s lap and straddled him right in front of them, unashamed and unapologetic. Her fingers tangled in Taehyung’s hair and Taehyung’s large hand planted firmly on her ass as they had a casual conversation with Park Jimin like nothing weird was happening. Jimin had an open mind about it all – for him, as long as his best friend was happy, he didn’t see the problem. Also, she liked to press her tits against Taehyung’s chest and Jimin was a pervert.

Okay, yes, Yoongi knew he was jealous as fuck.

When Taehyung and her parted ways after a few months, he thought he was free. He thought he could forget about it all. He and his girlfriend were happy. They didn’t have sex anymore, but that happened sometimes. It was normal to settle down a bit after the honeymoon phase – if their few times of starfish sex could be considered a honeymoon phase.

He knew he was being overly mean, but he honestly didn’t give a shit at this point.

It wasn’t until he was having dinner with one of his close friends, Jung Hoseok, that he thought about her again. Hoseok was smiling, handing him some grilled meat, and chatting away. He liked talking to Hoseok. Hoseok made everything more light-hearted and fun. Hoseok was going on about something, but when Yoongi looked up, he saw her. All the way at the front of the restaurant, standing there with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. She was handing an elderly woman in a dirty apron a thick stack of papers and smiling. Tiny white crop top, lips painted dark red and eyes smoked with black. But the elderly owner was smiling, nodding as she pointed to the papers and spoke about them. The silver rings and silver chains flashed in the fluorescent lights.

Hoseok noticed his change in demeanor and turned around.

“Oh, that’s that woman Taehyung was seeing not too long ago,” Hoseok noted, tilting his head. “Taehyungie said she’s some kind of accountant for small businesses, but I didn’t know she did it for this place! Shall we go say hi?”

“No.”

Hoseok turned around, staring at him. “Huh?”

Yoongi looked down, staring at his bowl of rice. “She seems busy. Let her be.”

“Oh... Okay.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He wanted to smash it. Instead, he pulled it out of his pants and stared at it. His girlfriend, asking him to come home and not stay out too late. He frowned at it.

Hoseok prodded him and smiled. “Ah, sorry, have I kept you out too late? You better go home – I’ll pay today.”

Yoongi shook his head, pulling out his wallet. “No, no, I’ll pay. Least I could do,” he said. He pulled out some bills and stood up. “Stay and finish eating. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Hey, hyung,” Hoseok called as Yoongi began to walk away. Yoongi turned to look back at him, seeing his friend’s heart-shaped smile and calming brown eyes.

“You should do what makes you happy, okay? Don’t get too caught up in who you think you should be.”

“Ah… right.”

He left the restaurant, out into the night. The cheer of the bustling street, filled with happy couples and laughing friends. The happy noise taunted him. Yoongi zipped his parka, shoving his phone deep in his pocket. He could smell the delicious scent of meat and rice from the restaurant behind him, mixing with the faint scent of cigarettes and car exhaust.

He looked up and she was there. Standing a little to the side, speaking with an older guy who was eyeing her tits. She shook her head, moving deftly away from his outstretched hand. Her fingers curled into a fist, silver rings flashing.

“Hey.”

Her head whipped around, eyes widening as she recognized him.

“I thought we were leaving? Come on.”

Yoongi grabbed her hand and pulled her along, burying them in the crowd. Her silver rings cut into his hand, but he held it tight, as if he was afraid that she would run away. After a few meters, she pulled her hand from his grasp.

“Oi, you didn’t have to do that,” she said sternly, frowning.

Yoongi shrugged. “I was just trying to save you the assault charges.”

She sighed and raised her hands, as if she was admitting her guilt. “Eh… alright then. Thanks, I guess.”

It was awkward. They never really talked when she was dating Taehyung, mostly because he knew he couldn’t control his mind when he was around her. She was polite to him, but there was definite distance between them.

“Hey, uh… can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head, running the tip of her tongue over her painted lips. Fuck.

“Are you seeing someone?”

“Me?” She pointed to herself and laughed, shaking her head. “Nah, I don’t want to be in a relationship. Just casual sex for me.” She pointed to him. “But aren’t you with someone? I recall Taehyungie telling me you had a cute little girlfriend.”

“We broke up.”

He said it without thinking. His face was neutral. She pursed her lips, watching him carefully.

“Hmm, I see,” she finally said.

He told himself to do it. He wanted it. He wanted it right now.

“Want to come with me for a bit?”

That’s how they ended up in the back of Yoongi’s car, her ring-covered hand grabbing the back of his head, pulling his lips to hers. She smelled like dark cherries, sugary and heavy. He felt her hot breath on his lips, her tongue darting out and licking him like a snake.

“What do you want? Your dick sucked? My pussy on your face? Me bouncing on your dick or on all fours?” she whispered, biting his lower lip and tugging on it lightly.

Fuck. All of it and there wasn’t enough time or space. “Don’t tempt me or I’ll rip your clothes off,” he growled.

She chuckled slyly, crashing her lips to his. Her lips were slippery, lipstick smearing against his lips as he kissed her, sucking on her tongue. She moaned into his mouth, so hot and sweet that his cock strained in his pants. She pulled back, lipstick down to her chin. One look in the rearview mirror and he knew he looked the same.

“Damn, Yoongi, you look sexy as fuck,” she breathed, grinning at him.

He felt his cheeks grow hot at the compliment. He hoped the dim streetlights of the parking lot didn’t give him away. She unzipped his parka, pulling his black shirt up his chest. He raised an eyebrow. She smirked, running her nails over his skin, giving him goosebumps. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey, if you’re going to look, let me look too.”

She raised her hands and grinned. “Sure.”

She shrugged off her leather jacket, letting it fall. Pulled down the straps of her tiny white crop top, letting her breasts spill out from the top. His eyes widened seeing her hard nipples right in front of his face. Tinted windows or not, it was still a semi-public area.

It made him even harder, if that was possible.

He reached up and rubbed his thumb against one, breath hitching at the hardness. She raised an eyebrow.

“Please don’t tell me you’re a vanilla boy,” she taunted, rolling her eyes.

His eyes narrowed and he pinched them roughly, making her squeal.

“What was that?” He let his voice drop several octaves, pinching them again.

She winced, but didn’t back down. “Best you can do?”

He gripped her nipples tightly and pulled up, earning him a pained moan. “Who do you think you’re testing?” he drawled, feeling her grind against his lap, too much fabric between them.

“That’s better,” she growled back, cocking her chin defiantly.

He grabbed her breasts and dug his nails into them, rubbing his palms against her nipples. They were deliciously soft, the skin smooth against his callouses. He could feel the cool metal of her silver necklines against his fingertips.

“Take off your jeans.”

She struggled to get out of them, pulling her jeans and panties off together. His heart skipped a beat as he witnessed the string of her juices snap against her thigh, glistening in the low light. The scent of her sex filled the small car, intoxicating him.

“Already wet for me, huh?”

She smirked. “What can I say? I have a weakness for assertiveness.”

He let go of her tits, tracing his fingers on her thighs. The thighs he dreamt about, the thighs he jacked off to when he was alone in the shower, the thighs he watched enviously clamp around Taehyung’s waist right in front of his face. They practically fucked when they were in public and it made him jealous and angry seeing their obvious lust for one another.

He sunk his fingers into those juicy thighs, sucking in a breath in satisfaction. Fuck, they were so fucking soft, so full and sexy in his hands.

“Spread those lips for me,” he breathed, eyes fixated on her pussy.

She leaned back a little, tongue in cheek. His eyes widened as he realized she had a tattoo on the right side of her inner thigh. A laughing cartoonish skull. God, what lucky fuck had done that? She reached down with her ringed fingers and forced her pussy open with two of them, wet, shiny, and quivering, the pink bud swollen with need. His arousal so strong that he would remember it for nights on end.

He reached out and pulled her to him by the waist, sliding his fingers up her inner thigh. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, nipples brushing against his skin. He squeezed the flesh next to her pussy, feeling her juices drip down the back of his hand. She sucked in a breath in anticipation. He turned his hand, brushing a fingertip against her wetness.

“Such a fucking tease,” she hissed, grabbing the back of his head and tangling her fingers in his hair.

He grinned devilishly. “So needy. Tell me what you want.”

Her lips brushed against his, eyes boring into his, burning with desire.

“Finger me with those delicious hands of yours.”

She kissed him, roughly, and he plunged his fingers into her wetness, almost moaning into her mouth as he felt her walls clench around him. He ground his knuckle against her clit as he worked her, turning her into a ruined mess above him. He was sure her juices were dripping onto his pants, covering him with her scent.

“Fuck, Yoongi, fuck!”

He didn’t care if she came or not, just kept pumping his fingers in and out of her, hard and fast. Her necklaces clattered against each other, clinking in rhythm of his thrusts. Each moan was his adrenaline, fingering her so hard she was bouncing in his lap, probably making his car rock with the motion.

He didn’t even care if someone knew. In fact, he wanted someone to know.

Her rings dug into his skin as she gripped onto his shirt, shuddering as she came all over his hand, so slick and wet that he slipped out by accident. He readjusted, but she grabbed his hand, pulling it up.

“You trying to put us in jail?” she snickered, backing up a little.

“If I can still fuck you in jail, does it matter?” he countered, licking his fingers. Oh, God. Sweet with a hint of sour, so fucking delicious that he wanted to drink it out of her right now.

She pushed him up, unbuttoning his pants as she did so. She yanked them down, his bare ass sticking to the leather of his seats. That kind of thing would really annoy him if it wasn’t for her bending down. The metal of her rings felt cool against his cock. She opened her mouth, tongue out and ass up. The image burned into his mind.

Fuck his girlfriend, he should have taken her home so they could have fucked on his bed.

She took him in her hot mouth, swirling her tongue around the head. Down, down. Lips pressed against the base of his cock. He could feel the lipstick leaving an imprint on his skin. Messy and erotic, exactly what he wanted. He pressed his head against the window, groaning as she began to bob her head up and down, awkwardly positioned in the car. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat and he moaned, feeling the muscles grip the head tightly before backing up again. The head scraped against the roof of her mouth, making his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure. Was getting head ever this good? Were lips really this soft, mouths really this tight? Her hands were gripping his hips, rings pinching his skin a little, but he didn’t care. The hint of pain heightened his senses, mixing with the pleasure.

He felt her pause and he looked down, seeing her mouth open just a little. He felt her tongue press against the base of his balls, teasing them and coating them in saliva.

“F-fuck me…” he hissed, breath hitching as she started up again, faster, tighter. He gripped the seat, not wanting to grab her head and ruin her pace. Her tongue pressed against the bottom of the head and he groaned, feeling the familiar tension at the base of his stomach.

“S-shit, I’m going to–”

He didn’t get to grit out any more words, because they turned into a dragged-out moan as he shot into her throat. She swallowed, holding to him tightly. He could hear each gulp loud and clear, punctuating his damnation. She licked him slowly, softly. He gasped at the sensitivity, squeezing his eyes shut as she milked out every last drop.

His dick slid out of her mouth with a wet plop, limply falling between his legs. Dark lipstick down to her chin, smokey eyes devilishly looking up at him. At that moment, Yoongi knew.

She was who he wanted.

Yoongi sat in the driver’s seat, wiping his mouth with a spare tissue. He was a sticky mess underneath his clothes. He didn’t really want to think about what he had just done. He could still smell her, her taste still coated on his tongue.

He sighed. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, turning it back on. He waited patiently, sitting in the darkness. He had offered to drop her off wherever she liked, but she just laughed and said she would be fine.

“I’m worried about the poor fool who tries to pick you up,” he had said with a smirk.

She was halfway out of his car, turning back and smiling.

“No promises.”

He touched the scrap of paper on the dashboard. He should throw it away. He felt the vibration of his phone, loading up all the messages and missed calls. He didn’t have to look. He knew who it was. After a long moment, Yoongi unlocked his phone and swiped all the notifications away.

And then he saved a new contact.

part ii

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #suga x you #suga smut #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you

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auroras-blend · 3 years ago

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The Enemy of My Enemy

Summary: Vittoria meets the one, the only, the woman who convicted her father, the ex-wife of her arch-nemesis, a dynamite lawyer: Marie Thibodeaux!

Notes: Told in Vittoria's POV. Marie is only a cameo 😢

A myriad of blue and purple puzzle pieces surrounded her skirt. Well, how am I supposed to do this in just an hour? Vittoria was more or less sour that her father left her with Sawyer in his office as he ran errands, because 1) she was with Sawyer and 2) she was bored out of her mind. When the door had shut, Sawyer had barked at her to be quiet and quite literally threw the puzzle box in her face and told her to play with it. It was brand new and she could only assume it was to go to one of the grandchildren he’d never seen. He barely has any photos of his family! There was a picture of him, his first wife, and two sons on his desk and another photo of his daughter to the side that both looked to be taken decades before she was born. I’d be sad if he were my father.

Sawyer was busy writing aggressively, his tone sharp and bitter as he was on the phone with someone. I should scream he’s killing me...that’d be funny. She giggled at the thought and earned herself a nasty scowl from the man himself. What was lovely about Sawyer was that he would swear around her because he knew damn well her mother did and he really seemed to be the only person who understood there was no more protecting her poor little ears, that he says stick out worse than Mickeys. They do not!

With a little huff, she began to assemble the puzzle of the sea, or at least that's what it said it’d be according to the box. And in her opinion, she was doing extremely well! “Look!” she pointed gleefully, “I’m almost done!”

“Wooooow,” Sawyer murmured, his eyes glued to his paper, “We should have you tested to see if you’re gifted…”

Vittoria pouted. “This is why you’re not married anymore.”

That little jab may have hit too close to home because he flung a paperweight at her that hit her in the face again. It wasn’t too heavy and it most certainly didn’t break anything, but the hate and suddenness of it made her start crying. “Keep your trap shut,” he growled.

It seemed he was even crueler today and of course she was his victim. Her little hands gripped the smooth glossy paperweight and threw it back, but it couldn’t go much farther than to bounce against the top of his desk. Her strength didn’t match his and she started bawling, “Pathetic weak little thing…”

“You’re so mean to me! I hate you and-,”

“WHERE IS THAT COCKSUCKING MORALLESS CLOWN-,” boomed a voice that made Sawyer go white as a sheet of paper.

The whites of his eyes were on display as he sprung out of his chair and shut the blinds. He ripped her off the ground and put a finger to her lips, “Shut up,” he whispered, “Shut up right now.”

Sobs still heaved from her body, the sounds being drowned out by the woman outside. “I-I can’t! You hurt me!”

“Fuck,” he cursed, “I’ll give you...two dollars! Two dollars if you’re quiet right now!”

Her cries quieted down, but not completely. Sawyer was close to trembling, his grip on her shoulders and the look in his eyes were pleading. Huh, he’s desperate… “Five,” she said.

Might as well...He grit his teeth and growled, “Fine. Now shut up.”

Vittoria nodded and retreated into the corner. “Ma’am, you can’t go in there-,” screamed the secretary.

Right as Sawyer was about to turn out the light, the door slammed open and smashed his hand against the wall. “Fuck!” he screamed in pain, pulling it close to him as he scrambled away.

The lighting fixtures flickered but remained on as who Vittoria imagined being the goddess Nemesis stood between the doorway to the firm and to Sawyer’s former safe haven. The woman was dressed in a dark navy blazer and skirt with a white undershirt. Circular glasses were falling down the bridge of her nose as her hateful gaze met Sawyer’s beady one. She had a straight-cut bob that fell beneath her chin, her hair grey in a way that demonstrated that too many people annoyed her in her lifetime. For a moment, her heart sank because that's what she could imagine her Mama to look like if she had lived that long. “You motherfucking son of a bitch!”

She even curses like Mama, well she has an accent. It sounded southern to her but with an air that she couldn't quite place. Despite being more or less terrified of everyone around her, she was unafraid of the woman. And she’s right. “Marie, you psychotic cunt, get the fuck out!”

The woman stormed right up to him and put her finger in her face. “HOW DARE YOU?! BRINGING HIM BACK!”

“It’s none of your business anymore, now get out! Call security!” he shouted at his poor shaking assistant.

“This entire case is my business! How much did it cost you to sell what you pass off as a soul?”

Vittoria giggled and right when she did, she clapped her hands to her mouth. The red-eyed gazes shifted to her, puffs of air coming out from their noses and mouths. “Oh...another one of your spawn’s spawn?” she sneered.

“No!” Vittoria protested, “I’m not related to him!”

The thought of being related to Sawyer revolted her to her core. “How fortunate for you.”

“I think so,” she smiled.

“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet? You lost that five bucks,” he seethed.

Damn.

“Who’s the kid?”

“I’ve been kidnapped!” she cried dramatically, wiping the remaining wetness from her eyes, “He’s a predator!”

Sawyer jumped, “No, she’s not! I did not!”

Her words seemed to be more terrifying than what the woman, Marie, threw at him. “You sick son of a-are you prostituting kids now?”

“ENOUGH!” he shouted, “Where’s that damn security?!”

“Because that’s the only way you can get rid of me, huh? Not in court but by men bigger than you to do your dirty work. Hell, you’re not even the boss. You don’t call the shots! You worthless piece of shit! How can you stand to look at yourself?”

“I ask him the same thing every day,” Vittoria shook her head sorrowfully.

“I’m this close,” he pinched his fingers and left a barely visible space between them, “To cutting out your tongue.”

Vittoria stepped back in fear. “Threatening bodily harm to a six-year-old? You really are a jack shit lawyer-”

“I’m nine actually. I’m just small,” Vittoria added. That information wasn't relevant but Vittoria thought it was.

“He also threw a paperweight at me,” she said pointing to the ball that stood still on the floor, “It hurt.”

“Oh...and assault. You really can’t get any lower,” Marie hissed, “I hope you can afford a good lawyer. I’d offer, but I despise you and I hate to take lost causes.”

Shivers rolled down her spine as she heard Sawyer grind his teeth. “Go back to the pits of hell where you belong, or whatever they’re calling Chicago these days, and maybe I won’t charge you for trespassing,” he snapped at the woman.

Marie scoffed, “You were so close to being free of him. And you brought him back, you pathetic worm.”

She could tell that dug into Sawyer deep. “He’s been a-,” he began to defend before eyeing Vittoria, “No. Just get out. I’ve got work to do.”

He retreated back to his seat and stepped on the puzzle she had been working on. No… Marie scowled at him, “You’re gonna end up dead one day.”

“We all do,” Sawyer sighed.

Anger rolled off Marie before her eyes met Vittoria’s. “Are you really okay, kid? You need any help?”

“I’ll survive,” she said politely.

Marie nodded. “If you ever need a good lawyer, don’t call him. He’s terrible, I should know, I was married to him,” she smirked, her eyes glowing with vindication at Sawyer whose own hazel eyes were full of hostility, “And I also beat his ass in court.”

Vittoria gasped. She was starry-eyed and already adored her, unknowing that this was the woman who convicted her father. Sawyer was glowering at her over papers, “ I’m meeting one of his ex-wives! “You poor woman. I’m so sorry,” she said with true genuineness, before clarifying her statement, “For being married to him. Not for beating him.”

Vittoria giggled at the last part. I love her. She’s mean to Sawyer. I’d do anything for her. She reminds me so much of Mama. With a last smile, she pushed by the security guards who finally arrived. Ooooh, Sawyer’s gonna fire them. Part of her was sad to see her go, knowing that Sawyer would wring her neck soon. For a moment, she had been transported back to how it was with her mother. It was probably a good thing Marie didn’t stay, otherwise, Vittoria most certainly would’ve imprinted on her and followed her around like a little duckling. “Can I be her?” she asked dreamily.

“No,” Sawyer said in a cold tone, “Come sit here.”

Vittoria obeyed and climbed into the large leather seat across from him, letting her legs swing back and forth as they couldn’t touch the ground. Wow, I feel like a grown-up. Sawyer put down his pen and looked at her. He wasn’t angry, just thoughtful and that confused her. He sighed and got up to open a globe in the corner of the room, “Whoa!”

Inside was an assortment of drinks and liquors that were half-empty. Beautiful amber-brown liquids filled the crystal cruet set, and Sawyer took the liberty to pour himself a drink. Sawyer closed the globe and gripped his glass and another empty one. Sawyer paused in front of a cabinet before opening the bottom door that revealed a mini-fridge. The cold air whooshed out when he pulled the door open, featuring rows of sodas, sparkling in their cans. “Rootbeer, black cherry, or strawberry?”

“What?” she whispered.

“Which one?” he asked again, gesturing to the sodas.

“Papa...Papa won’t let me. He won’t even let me have juice,” she frowned.

Sawyer shrugged, “Fine then…”

“Wait!” she called out before he closed the door.

She bit her lip. This is wrong. Maybe he’s doing this as a trap...but I’ve never had soda before. What if we get in a car crash on our way home and I die never having a soda?! No...Papa won’t let me and I have to be good for him, so no...I can’t have soda. And that’s that. “I’ll have the strawberry one please,” she said aloud and watched him pour the brown fizzing drink into a glass and hand it to her.

I can hear the bubbles! Vittoria felt giddy, excited to have something forbidden and sweet. Something she’d always wanted to try! A smile spread across her face as she put it up to her mouth, the foam and bubbles tickling her nose and causing her to sneeze. “Achoo!”

She wrinkled her nose to get rid of the itch as she pressed the thick crystal rim to her lips and tilted the glass back, allowing the sweet bubbly drink to drip into her mouth and leave a burning sensation down her throat. Vittoria coughed, “It burns!”

“That’s the carbonation,” Sawyer said plainly as he sat down again, “Vittoria...you know how we hate each other?”

She blinked, surprised at how honest he was being. “Yes…”

“Hm, well you know how we both love your father very much? And want him to be happy and safe?”

“Yes,” she said again, her voice worried.

“That woman who came in, my ex-wife, she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want your father to be happy and she’s one of the people who believe lies about him. In fact, Marie is one of the people who spread those lies,” he scowled.

It was the first time she ever believed something Sawyer said. It was said with such a raw intensity that he couldn’t be lying to her, or at least lying to her entirely. “What?” she whispered.

“Vittoria, she’s not our friend. You can’t trust her and the moment she finds out you’re his daughter, she’ll want to exploit that, you. Marie will stop at nothing and will use you to take him down, which is why you can never tell her anything. Please, never talk to her again,” he said seriously.

“But...but she was nice,” she mumbled, to me.

Sawyer rolled his eyes, “Well this isn’t about us. It’s about protecting your father. So can you put our differences aside and treat her as what she is? A threat to our family?”

An alliance with Sawyer? She never wanted to agree with him on anything, but the way he was speaking set her nerves on alert. He means it...he’s serious. “Yes,” she agreed, “Anything for Papa. I-I don’t want to see him get hurt…”

“Good,” Sawyer nodded, “Then it’s agreed. You won’t speak to Marie or about her, ever again.”

“Agreed.”

“You are a smart girl, then,” he grinned, “One more thing, let me tell your father everything.”

“I’ll let you if you give me back my five dollars.”

“Not a chance.”

“I’ll go home and say it anyway,” she reasoned.

“Two dollars.”

“Three.”

“Two and a strawberry tab.”

“Three,” she insisted.

He narrowed his eyes, “Fine.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sawyer,” she said pleasantly.

Sawyer smiled greasily and leaned forward against his desk, holding out his drink. Vittoria took her cue and tapped her glass against his, a sweet clink, sounding out as they toasted. As she took a sip of her soda, she couldn’t help feeling like she made a deal with the devil.

#Marie Thibodeaux #charles sawyer #marilyn winslow #vittoria borghese #cameo

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msindrad · 4 years ago

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an insanely long crazy-ass post about the dollars trilogy, I’m so sorry y’all

I FOUND THIS POST. I DID IT. I FOUND IT. JESUS. I spent the entirety of my yesterday searching for it.

I’m going to tag everybody who participated in this discussion and whose posts I‘ve found while searching for this discussion on the off-chance that they still might be interested in, yeah, discussing these films.

@clinteastwood-blog @geekboots-blog @istadris @sybilius @bleak-nomads @thenotsobad-thebad-andtheugly @bloncos @mcicioni-blog @unrealthings @stephantom @colonelmortimer

Also, please feel free to ignore me and my analytical outburst if you don’t feel like talking about the films or talking about them with my crazy hyperfixated ass specifically, lol. I didn’t mean to be rude by calling you out of nowhere, it’s just that sometimes people get excited when there is an enthusiastic newbie in the fandom and gladly return to their beloved canons.

Anyway. The dollars trilogy.

I’ll start with The Good, the Band and the Ugly (and will probably make myself instantly unlikable by nitpicking things, (sigh)).

As stupid as it might sound – the film being an absolute masterpiece, a cultural milestone that is timeless, epic, work of genius, love it, will write and draw about it with pleasure etc. – I’m kind of inclined to find the GBU the weakest film in the trilogy storywise. Don’t get me wrong: the plot is interesting and strong, every scene is entertaining, smart, and instantly quotable… But.

There are a few things that make the story, taken holistically, weak to a degree, especially in contrast to the other two films. Now, let me explain my bold-ass claim.

The first reason I couldn’t even pinpoint for myself until my best friend asked me: yeah, it’s all cool and fun, but what has really changed at the end of the film? They stopped the battle/blew up the bridge (kudos for the pacifist message), they killed a few folks on the way including Angel Eyes, but what did the story amount to in the end? Was their relationship changed? Have they themselves learned something about life, universe and everything? Tuco is still on the rope, Blondie still shoots the rope. They both got their money, split it 50/50. Sure, now it’s an insane amount of money but will it make them reconsider their ways of life? I don’t know, and I don’t necessarily think so. They’re really back to square one. If you consider the graphic novel The Man With No Name canon, then (spoiler) Blondie gives his money away to help rebuild the monastery of Tuco’s brother, and Tuco himself doesn’t really invest his share in anything other than booze, and sex, and troubles, so. Then, Angel Eyes got killed off, but he had even less backstory/character arc than, for instance, Captain Clinton, not to mention that his image, as memorable as it was, kind of lacked certain complexity, so, does it really matter storywise (although he is a great, stylish character, but I hope that you get what I mean)? (Note: Angel Eyes should have been the film’s ultimate personification of the war (inhumanely ruthless, only interested in money, extremely goal-oriented etc.), which, the war, kind of is the main antagonist of the film if you think about it; but the way he was used in the plot, the way he acted, and was generally presented, communicated it only in a limited way, imo).

Everything about the adventure was fun, smart, entertaining, one of the best films ever made, I agree 100%, and I rewatched it with pleasure many times. But I believe that stories have to bring about some palpable change in their world in order for them to be successful and finished. The GBU, in my opinion, doesn’t do it because it doesn’t want to be a story-story, and it’s fine with just letting its characters exist in a magic Western/a cowboy fantasy/a fairy tale. And I guess it’s also one of the reasons why the story didn’t go anywhere from the GBU – there is nothing to add to a basis like that. And I can’t help noting that it’s super ironic that the only film in the trilogy that truly seems to be all about money-money-money has no “dollars” in its title.

Another thing that I think is super important: there is almost no female energy or presence in the film. And it’s not even a matter of representation that bugs me, although I think it’s very important. It just feels like there is a deficit of something vital that renders everything even sort of unrealistic. In AFOD we have Marisol and we have Consuelo Baxter, and they’re relevant for the plot, and they have goals, motivations… lines. In FAFDM we have Mary, who has only a few brief moments, but she’s memorable, endearing, and she has a small story/motivation of her own, and we also have Mortimer’s sister, who is EXTREMELY important, and who also isn’t just symbolic, she herself makes a plot-relevant decision on screen, although a really horrible one from my personal moral standpoint. In the GBU we have what? A prostitute that’s beaten up by Angel Eyes (I never watch this scene), another woman at the hotel where Blondie stays in that is shut up and called an old hag or something like it, and another woman that makes a comment about Tuco’s hanging. None of them are memorable or have motivations on their own, and to me it makes the film lacking some really important counterpoint in terms of dynamics etc.

And nobody needs me to describe all the things that the film is awesome at because everybody knows that the film is one of the best films ever made, so painfully gorgeous that it’s difficult to praise it. So, I’ll move on to the other two films but will briefly talk about Tuco and Eli Wallach.

Eli Wallach is considered one of the best actors ever to appear on film for reason, so, I’ll just say about my personal impressions from his performance: he really made me emphasize with Tuco. His acting is incredibly rich, nuanced, concentrated, and, imo, just leaves you no choice but to think of Tuco as a real complex human being, not a film character. And Tuco is a superb character. Over the course of the story he gets to be loathsome, humane, funny, silly, terrifying, and cunning, - often all those at the same time. That’s one hell of a captivating character who’s just very, very interesting to watch and to analyze, regardless whether you like him or not.

Then, we have A Fistful of Dollars. I’m a huge fan of classic adventure stories that are gen, plot-driven, and have smart main characters figuring out a way to get what they want without being destroyed by other characters for wanting or trying to get it in the first place. I think it’s very difficult and very rewarding to write a good story in this genre. AFOD is exactly this kind of story, and this kind of stories is only as good as their protagonists’ maneuvers are. And Joe is, like, a tactical genius (the barrel! the fire!). And it’s much better to rewatch the film to remind yourself of how smart he is than have me talking about it, so.

But apart from that he is also humanized by his deeply personal motivations that appear completely irrational especially in contrast to his clever manipulations of the Baxters and the Rojos. And he doesn’t do it egotistically, to “get the girl,” which wouldn’t make him particularly sympathetic one way or another. Sure, he makes a good buck at the end, but his primary motivation still is justice for Marisol and her family (and then protection of his friend). Additionally, Joe gets his fair share of punishment for providing said justice, which further humanizes him and kind of makes you worry about him. And Silvanito with his scolding, humor, and skepticism helps with it a lot, too.

And then, there is the fact that the film wants the audience to either want to be Joe or want to be with him, sometimes both at the same time. Everybody on screen is a single Joe’s wink away from swooning because how he practically oozes charisma (only Silvanito is immune to his charms). I can’t blame them, though.

And I also want to point out the last lines of the film: Joe says that he doesn’t want to get involved into politics because that would be too much for him, and I think that it’s very fitting. The film just showed how cool he is, but he knows his limits, and he knows that he operates on a different plane.

So, all in all, it’s a masterfully done story.

Finally, we have For a Few Dollars more. I love all three films, but FAFDM is my favorite, there’s no doubt about that. I’ll start with the fact that it’s perfectly structured and perfectly balanced. We have three big players, Mortimer, Manco, and Indio, and the film shows how dangerous and how smart each of them is, so that the conflict between them ends up being very, very suspenseful. Not to mention the fact that it takes Manco and Mortimer almost 40 minutes, I think, to finally properly meet – by that time we are already speculating who will be the winner in the end, how will they react to each other, how will they interact, how will they work together etc. We get to know them quite well first, and then their relationship allows us to explore their characters even deeper through their interactions, their differences, and their similarities. For some time, storywise they become a single unit. While the story of Indio’s assault on Mortimer’s sister is revealed parallel to the plot.

Indio himself is terrifying as hell without being cartoonish. He is a really dangerous, broken man that is also methodical, smart, and ruthless. He is so bad that he kills the opponent’s family just to make him bitter enough to draw on him. And he is so bad that he is okay with killing off his own gang.

Speaking of which, Indio’s gang is colorful. He has interesting interactions with them at the beginning, in that church. And Klaus Kinski made his Wild stand out to me. I swear, the moment he almost cries in that saloon when Mortimer takes away his cigar, I feel bad for him every single time. And when he recognized Mortimer, it was tense. He even had a cool witty one-liner after Mortimer said that he should come to him in ten minutes to help him light that match and smoke: “In ten minutes, you’ll be smoking in hell!”

By the way, Indio’s tendency to get unnecessarily physical with his gang looks even more unnerving when he touches Manco to check his wound/shares a smoke him with some clearly visible eroticized subtext, which gets even creepier when you realize that he is a rapist. I swear, I was worried about Mortimer when I saw the film for the second time – that is even though I knew the plot – because Manco brought up that family resemblance between Mortimer and his sister, and we all know what Indio did to her.

What else? I could bring up all sorts of things, the action, the final duel, the small smart details that allow the plot to happen the way it happens (e.g. how Manco manages to hide the bag with all the money on that tree before Indio’s gang capture him and Mortimer – only to re-collect that bag at the end of the film), the humor, the street kids and all the other cool-cool secondary characters (Joseph Egger’s informer probably is my favorite), the opening sequence and the title card (oops, already rambled about this one) really, anything and everything including the perfect chemistry between Manco and Mortimer.

But I’ll just say that the music in this film is special to me. Every single composition by Ennio Morricone is special, unique, memorable, and intriguing, it’s true, and so it feels redundant and banal to say something like this. The Ecstasy of Gold is almost extraterrestrial, the main theme of Two Mules For Sister Sara imitates actual mule sounds, how genius is that, etc., and you must be dead to not be enticed and mesmerized beyond words by the main theme of the GBU, which is a hymn of all spaghetti Westerns now, a universal call for adventure (I feel like a bad person saying this, but I’ve always wanted to joke that Ennio put sexy back into the “waah-waah”… no, I regret nothing).

BUT. To me personally, the music in FAFDM is as personal as the film itself, and dare I say even more important to the story than in the GBU, despite the theme of the GBU being a kind of Greek choir throughout the film. The personalized sounds for Manco and Mortimer accentuate their personalities to the point where they almost create a reflex in you. The pocket watch chime is literally part of the story and plays a huge, crucial role in the plot! And it’s decidedly one of the saddest musical scores I’ve ever heard. It’s minimalist, mournful, and yet also nostalgically bittersweet. It feels like a reminder that there’s no going back whatever that might mean in the actuality. And the famous moment where Manco asks Mortimer whether his question was indiscreet and Mortimer says that the answer could be… I feel personally touched whenever I watch the scene. For me, it doesn’t feel like just an amazing scene, it triggers some deep emotion that is hard to express and almost gives me the urge to cry. Something along the lines of respectful and compassionate “I’m sorry that it happened to you,” “I’m sorry that I can’t help you.” The feeling of personal tragedy is conveyed infinitely better than a three-volume backstory ever could.

And then, there is this huge potential for all the stories about Manco, and Mortimer, and Blondie, and Tuco, and Angel Eyes, and even Joe to explore... Well, I better stop here.

So, yeah. It turned out to be a crazy long post, and I‘m grateful to anybody who reads it till the end. And if you haven’t watched these movies please do. Cheers.

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apparentlynotreallyfinnish · 5 years ago

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Morning After

Just a little silly AU fic that was crowding my brain. (A tiny trigger warning, there is a spiked drink in this but no assaults/attempted assaults.) Rhett and Link are working as engineers and have only met six months ago.

---

Link’s eyes flutter open and he stares at the blurry image of a slowly turning ceiling fan for a good long while before realizing that he doesn’t actually have a ceiling fan in his bedroom.

Where am I?

He attempts to get up and is immediately slammed back into the pillow by a wave of nausea and a piercing headache. His eyes close tight and he takes a few deep breaths.

Okay. That’s a clue if I ever felt one. Obviously, I’ve been drinking.

The bed is soft and the sheets are silky smooth; everything feels foreign. Link stretches his arms to his sides and doesn’t even reach the edges of the bed. Aside from pillows and blankets the bed feels empty. Link peeks from behind his eyelids and confirms the notion. He’s alone in someone else’s bedroom. He doesn’t need to look under the covers to know that he’s naked.

What have I done? I never get black out drunk.

The throbbing headache tells him otherwise and Link wracks his brain, trying to remember what happened last night.

The office Christmas party! Oh God, have I gone home with a co-worker?

The nausea returns in full force and Link buries himself under the covers. He remembers the gaudily decorated lunch room, the band playing overly cheery Christmas songs, the tables filled with booze and Christmas cookies and the dimly lit corners of the office filled with co-workers engaged in acts that on any other day would make them blush and run away. Link sighs.

Why did I even go? I don’t like any of those people.

Link has worked at IBM for a little over a year now and still feels like an outsider. No one is outright mean or rude, but ever since his preferences got out during the first month working there, everyone has kept a very obvious distance between themselves and Link. It’s annoying, but not bad enough for Link to try and find another job. The pay is good and the benefits are great. He doesn’t have to be friends with his co-workers to do his job.

But apparently, I’ve gotten quite friendly with one last night.

The idea of sharing a bed with any of his co-workers makes Link’s stomach turn. Well, all but one. Link doesn’t think he was at the party, though. He’s not the type to come to an office party. But then again, neither is Link. He scours his memory. He remembers talking with the new guy – Fred? – from accounting. He was nice enough but had been pretty wasted. Link also had to, more than once, politely decline the advances of Ashley as she kept trying to pull him into one of those dark corners. Link faintly remembers her saying something about kissing the gay away. Link shivers at the memory. Thankfully he doesn’t work closely with her. But nowhere in his memory is there even a trace of the man that has haunted Link’s nights for the past six months.

You are being ridiculous. It’s obviously not him. He doesn’t even know I exist.

Rhett had started at the company six months ago as a supervisor for another team and even though they didn’t work together Link had been instantly smitten. Rhett had that whole hot lumberjack vibe going on and just the sheer size of him made Link melt. The man was a tall glass of drink and Link ached for a sip.

Link had made a point to have lunch every day at the same time as Rhett. They didn’t eat together; Link had never gathered the courage to sit at the same table as the golden haired daydream. He sat at his lonely side table, pining for the man like a horny teenager.

Even if he’d come to the party, I would have never approached him.

The air under the covers had grown stale and too warm to breath and Link pulls himself free of the self-imposed prison. He spots his glasses on a nightstand and crawls to retrieve them, instantly feeling better as the room around him sharpens. A noise catches Link’s attention. He can hear a clatter of dishes from somewhere in the house and a cabinet door bangs closed. Link’s heart leaps.

Who the heck have I gone home with? I didn’t even know anyone else was gay!

Should he go? Maybe he should just slip out. Maybe that’s what they want. Maybe that’s why they’ve left them alone in their bed. But Link has to know. He can’t leave without knowing who to avoid come Monday.

Link slowly lifts himself up on his elbows and let’s his gaze sweep the room hoping to see his clothes on the floor somewhere. Unfortunately the floor is spotless. Link doesn’t have time to get up to look for them properly because suddenly he hears someone coming up the stairs. Panicked, Link decides to stay in the bed and pulls the covers all the way up to his chin.

Oh God, please don’t be Fred. Please, please, please! He was old enough to be my father!

A tall figure fills the door frame of the bedroom and the sight punches the air out of Link’s lungs. He stares at the man, wide eyed and jaw hanging slack.

“Hey,” Rhett says quietly. For a second it looks like his face lights up when he sees Link but the expression disappears before Link can be sure. Rhett’s holding a tray and wearing a black tee and grey slacks. He shimmies into the room, almost like he’s afraid of Link; his movements are jerky and awkward.

“You’re up. That’s goo– Um... You were quite… I – I guess I was worried,” Rhett stammers, sets the tray on the bed next to Link and backs away quickly. He hovers at the door looking like he might bolt at any second.

I’m in Rhett McLaughlin’s bed! Did we…?

Link is still at a loss for words. His gaze flits to the tray. The food smells amazing and his mouth instantly waters. There’s a cup of coffee, eggs and bacon, an assortment of fruits and few slices of toast. There’s also a big glass of water and a pill that looks to be Tylenol.

“Do you…? Um… That’s for you, if you’re up for it. I mean… you don’t have to. Obviously, you can just go. I just wanted to…” Rhett is mumbling and waving towards the tray. Link has trouble meshing this shy and floundering Rhett with the charming and confident man he’s used to seeing around the office.

What is going on? How did I end up here? With him?

“Thanks,” Link finally manages to say. He pulls the tray closer to himself and takes the pill, washing it down with the water provided. The water is ice cold and Link lets out a satisfied sigh. A tiny smile tugs at the corner of Rhett’s lips.

“Oh! Your clothes are on the bench at the end of the bed. And um… I charged your phone, it’s downstairs. I can get it now if…” He’s suddenly speaking very quickly and turns on his heels to leave.

“Wait!” Link calls after him lifting his hand as if he could physically stop him. Rhett slowly turns back and tilts his head questioningly.

“This is a bit embarrassing but… How did I get here?” Link asks. Rhett leans against the door frame and gnaws his bottom lip in a way that makes Link’s heart flutter.

When did he get so fucking cute? Like shy and small somehow?

“You don’t remember?” Rhett asks and Link is certain he can detect a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“No, sorry.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that’s not surprising. When I got to the party you were… Let’s just say that you weren’t exactly dancing on the tables but it was close.”

Link buries his face into his palms and groans.

What the hell? I don’t remember drinking that much.

“Someone spiked your drink. I heard some folks talking about it,” Rhett says, anger hardening the edges of his words. Link reveals his face and stares at him, horrified. His stomach tightens uncomfortably.

“What?”

Fucking assholes!

“Yeah. I’m gonna figure out who they were and report them. Don’t worry about it, okay? What they did was... inexcusable. I tried taking you home but couldn’t get you to give me your address and I just… brought you here.”

“Oh.” Link feels himself deflating.

He was just being nice. Nothing happened between us…

“Wait,” Link says suddenly remembering his state of undress. “Why am I…?”

“Naked? Yeah. Um… when we got here I think you maybe thought you were at home? You just took all your clothes off and crawled into my bed. I didn’t look! I promise! And I slept in the guest room,” Rhett assures quickly. His eyes are wide and he’s swaying in place; radiating waves of nervous energy.

Link curses mentally. Of course, he’s worried; worried to be seen as gay; worried that Link is getting ideas. That’s why he’s being so awkward and jumpy.

“Sorry,” Link mutters, takes a piece of toast and stuffs it into his mouth. He should go. He should leave Rhett to wallow on the possibility that people are gonna gossip about them now. But he’s hungry and it would be rude not to eat something since Rhett has made it specifically for him.

A pity breakfast. Wonderful. I’ve just made a complete ass of myself in front of the only person whose opinion I actually care about. Might as well crawl into a hole and stay there.

“You really don’t remember anything?” Rhett asks quietly. Link turns to look at him and frowns. Rhett is looking down at his hands as he wrings them together. He looks flustered. Link swallows the dry toast with some difficulty and asks:

“Um… should I? Did I do something rude?”

Oh God! Did I come on to him? Maybe he’s lying about the undressing. Maybe I stripped for him or…

“Oh no, nothing like that. You were very polite,” Rhett assures and smiles a tiny smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Silence falls between them. Rhett rubs his neck and stares out of the room tapping his foot. Then he suddenly launches out of the room.

“Gonna get your phone!” he hollers from the stairs. Still feeling embarrassed and slightly confused Link stares at the space he’s left unoccupied. He takes another bite of the toast and sips from the coffee cup. The coffee is amazing; aromatic and smooth. Link sighs and closes his eyes.

I wonder if he does this to the women he brings home. Do they get the home-cooked breakfast as well? Does he get back into bed with them? Maybe he even feeds them grapes. Or kisses the taste of bacon off of their lips. Maybe things escalate from there…

Link coughs and shakes his head trying to stop himself. But his mind keeps running wild; thinking up scenarios where he’s a welcome guest not an intruder. Link rubs the silky sheet with his palm and imagines the feel of it under his back when Rhett moves over him. Rhett’s shoulder muscles pulled taut under Link’s touch. Rhett’s lips against Link’s neck. His teeth sinking into Link’s flesh as he gets lost in his pleasure...

Link knows it’s a bad idea to let himself indulge like this, but he’s in Rhett’s bed. He’s never gonna be here again and what does it matter if he wants to imagine a bit. He’s not hurting anyone. Rhett doesn’t need to know what he actually wants to do between his sheets.

It takes a while for Rhett to return and when he does he stops dead at the door and stares at Link looking confused.

“Oh,” he says and takes a step back.

What? Did he think I’d leave without my phone?

“Do you want me to give you a bit more time to…?” Rhett asks motioning towards the end of the bed. Link follows his gaze and the realization slams into him.

Oh for fuck’s sake. I am an idiot. He left so I could get dressed.

“I – I’m sorry. I didn’t… “ Link stammers flushing red with embarrassment. Rhett steps next to the bed and hands him his phone. Link grabs it and their fingers touch making Rhett jump visibly. Link’s mood sours further.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just let you… Take your time,” Rhett whispers and escapes the room.

Reluctantly Link leaves the breakfast – it’s been delicious – and gets up. His clothes are on a neatly folded stack on the bench just like Rhett said and Link quickly pulls them on. He’s gonna go. He’s gonna go home and bury himself under a pile of blankets and wallow.

Might be the time to start looking for a new job…

He quickly downs rest of his coffee and then descends the stairs. He can hear Rhett moving in a room that looks to be the kitchen. Link peeks inside.

“Hey. Thanks for – everything. I’m gonna go.”

Rhett turns with raised eyebrows.

“Oh.”

“So um… You know. Thanks again and bye,” Link stammers and hates himself for his shaky voice. He turns and rushes towards the front door, his stomach tightened into a painful knot.

His hand is on the handle when he hears the steps behind him.

“Link, wait!”

Link turns, wondering if he forgot something. Rhett strides up to him and stops at an arm’s length away. His mouth opens and closes. He sways back and forth. Link’s about to ask what’s going on but is cut short by Rhett blurting out:

“I’m not gay!”

Link sighs and fights the eye roll. The knot inside him tightens. He curses his luck.

Why do I always have to fall for the homophobes? I really have a problem.

“I know. Don’t worry. No one’s gonna think that,“ Link assures the man in front of him. Rhett looks like he’s about to burst into tears. He’s still teetering on his heels, tilting towards Link.

Well, they might. But that’s not my problem.

“I don’t care about them,” Rhett mutters. He swallows hard enough for Link to see his Adam’s apple bob. “What I meant is… I’m not gay. I don’t think so, at least,” he murmurs and takes a deep breath before stepping closer to Link. They’re toe to toe and Link has to lift his eyes to look at him. Rhett’s closeness is sucking all of the oxygen out of the air; suddenly Link is having trouble breathing.

God, he’s gorgeous. Those eyes… What even is that color?

“But for the last six months, all I’ve been able to think about is kissing you.”

Rhett’s words crash into Link with the force of a hurricane and he draws a sharp breath.

Rhett lifts his hand and caresses Link’s cheek gently. Link’s whole body quivers. His stomach flashes hot and he feels light-headed.

“Can I?�� Rhett murmurs, brushing his thumb lightly over Link’s lower lip.

Fuck yes!

“Yeah,” Link breathes and careens towards Rhett.

Their lips meet, soft and searching at first, then more eager. Rhett’s mouth opens and invites Link’s tongue in with a quick flick of his own. The heat in Link’s belly roars. He melts into Rhett.

I could get used to this.

When they finally part to draw ragged breaths, both are flushed and beaming.

“Are you in a rush?” Rhett whispers as his arm wraps around Link’s waist. Link shakes his head slowly, feeling dazed.

“Stay a while?” Rhett asks. Pleads.

“Okay.”

Then Link’s being lead back upstairs towards the bedroom and suddenly the world has colors he’s never seen before.

#rhink #rhink fic #Appa writes fic #a bit of angst #a bit of fluff

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skyfallensoldier · 4 years ago

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Mobile Navigation || Rules & Mun ↓

DISCLAIMER: I just want to note here at the beginning that while I am considering this RP blog to be historically based, i.e. remaining true to the time period and overall details of John Laurens' biographical information and whatnot, I do not consider myself a historically accurate blog, not entirely. Historical fiction is a well known genre of literature and many, MANY creative liberties are taken within that genre. Think of this blog like you would if you saw an Anastasia Romanov blog. She's dead, we know she didn't survive, and she's been dead a long-ass time; so has Laurens. People still have included her in many works of fiction, even after her body was identified and it was proven she did not survive her family's massacre. I saw a romance book a couple of months ago where she survived that was recently published. Historical fiction, while a controversial thing at times, is a legitimate form of literature.

You don't have to tell me if you think John isn't acting exactly like the real man himself would have, I know that. I'm not going to call John my 'perfect sunshine boy cinnamon roll' or dismiss the privilege he was raised on due to his father, I'm aware he was a real person who had his own personality, virtues and prejudices. I won't deny that while he was certainly a progressive thinking man for the time he grew up in he definitely still had racist thoughts and actions that were indicative of his upbringing. But I'm not on here to debate modern, real life politics, or get into arguments about whether he was a good abolitionist or not. At the end of the day, this is still a hobby for me, and I'm writing for fun.

Basically, don't take it too seriously. I'm a 21st century bisexual woman writing from the POV of an 18th century (likely gay) male soldier, the way I write him is obviously not going to be a perfect representation of who he was. I know he wasn't an amazing, perfect person, but I've still chosen to write a fictionalized version of him for my own entertainment. Please try to respect that; thank you.

Mun Stuff

Name: Luna Gender: Female (She/Her or They/Them) D.o.B: July 23rd, 1996 Age: 24 Nationality: Canadian Sexuality: Bisexual Timezone: Eastern Time (US & Canada) Activity: Daily BIOGRAPHY (SORT OF)

Hello, there! You can call me Luna! I've been interested in writing ever since I first got the internet when I was 14 and discovered FanFiction.Net and now I'm an aspiring author and Roleplay enthusiast. If you include acting/talking out DnD like games with friends then I've been 'roleplaying' since the fifth grade, but I like to think there's always room for improvement. If you ever want to chat I'd love to make a new friend or plot out a roleplay, so don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or send me a private message. Just because my muse can be a jackass doesn't mean I am! I’m a huge advocate for mental health, and if you ever need someone to talk to, please don’t ever hesitate to reach out! Some of my hobbies including literature and writing (of course), digging into mythology from various cultures, practicing solitary eclectic paganism/new age spirituality, drinking tea, and collecting crystals/minerals.

Please note that for the sake of disclosure, I am considered ‘Neurodivergent’, in that I suffer from ADHD, diagnosed at about age six, and have Anxiety and Depression which are directly tied to it. This doesn’t often effect my life on here, but I sometimes have an unpredictable sleep schedule (stay up all night, sleep in late into the morning, etc). I’m usually quick to reply to threads for the most part! I work every Tuesday and Thursday from 5pm to 7pm in addition to odd jobs here and there, during which time I won’t have access to the Internet. The rest of the week I’m on and off all day basically, so you can feel free to contact me any time.

RP Style

⭐️ Please use basic spelling/grammar/punctuation when you RP with me. I'm not a drill sergeant about these kinds of things, I know that typos happen, and if you have a vision problem or such we can absolutely find a way to work around that, I also have no problem roleplaying with people whose first language is not English, so that's totally fine and I’m happy to accomodate in whatever way I can, but it does make it a little difficult to play with you if I don't know what you're trying to say. For this reason I prefer if you not use any text shorthand (lol, idk, brb, jk, etc) unless our muses are messaging each other. Using it in the tags is fine.

⭐️ I roleplay Laurens in a past-tense 3rd Person Point of View (think story-telling format), and generally I don't use icons or text formatting unless I notice my partner does, then I will try to match their style (for example if you use icons and small-text, I will try to do the same, though because formatting isn't possible on mobile, any mobile replies might take longer to be posted than if I were on my laptop). If you have any issues with how I'm writing or need me to adjust my style for any reason don't be afraid to ask.

Contact

⭐️ If you spam me with messages over and over again about something I haven't replied to, chances are I'll drop the thread. I don't mind being reminded because I know Tumblr's notifications are notoriously unreliable sometimes, and humans can forget/lose things, but if you keep poking at me after I've acknowledged you the first and second time, I won't be pleased. Things can get busy on here, or in real life, or sometimes you're just lacking muse for that particular thread, y'know? It doesn't mean I hate you and don't want to RP, I'm almost always up for plotting, but muse tends to fluctuate.

⭐️ My ‘Discord’ is available to mutuals upon request. I don't mind roleplaying on there if Tumblr is being glitchy or you're just not feeling up to formatted/heavily plotted threads, sometimes Discord is fun in that you can do immediate replies without needing the effort of putting icons and formatting into it. I also have a Kik but I never use it. I don't RP in Tumblr's IMs, that's purely for OOC interaction.

⭐️ I also occasionally stream movies/TV shows in group chats or play “in character” Cards Against Humanity game nights, Among Us, etc. If you’re interested, lemme know, I’m always looking for more people to hang out with!

Important

I have no actual triggers that I'm aware of, although snakes do creep me out (mostly shots of them coiled up or images of their pupils), but there are some things I will not roleplay personally for comfort reasons:

⭐️ Cannibalism. You can mention it, for example I won't freak out if someone tells my muse that somebody else ate a person (he might, assuming its not a Supernatural type verse), but I won't RP him engaging in cannibalism, not even in AUs (blood-drinking vampires are fine). I'm just not sure I could stomach writing about eating people. I managed to watch Hannibal, barely, but writing about it? Nah. I can handle lots of horror, gore and disturbing content but not this. Sorry.

⭐ Incest/Pedophilia. I do not SEXUALLY ship with characters under the age of 18. John is not attracted to children, and would never consider sleeping with someone much younger than him.

⭐ I will not write anything sexual with muns who are under 18 years old, even if your muse is an adult. I'll still ROLEPLAY with you if you are under 18 but probably no younger than 16 just because things tend to get explicit on my blogs and I don't want to be accused of corrupting the youth with my foul language and weird opinions, lol. Seriously though, this blog covers a lot of dark subjects and while I’m all for minors exploring that safely through writing rather than in real life, some people aren’t comfortable with interacting with under age people for legal or personal reasons, please respect that.

⭐ Necrophilia. Just... no. Vampire threads don't count, as they're undead and not 'dead dead'.

⭐ Rape. I won't write it with you. I'm okay with mentions of rape, with rape/sexual assault survivor/recovery plots, and even with one character intervening to rescue another from an attempted sexual assault (if an attempted assault does occur, it will be thoroughly tagged and under a cut). I'm fully open to discussing rape recovery/trauma plots as those are things that happen in real life, and it can be interesting to explore how a character reacts to trauma. But anything else is a no-go, sorry!

⭐ Please be aware that I write Laurens as a gay man. However! Because of the time period, violent homophobia and social stigma, he has slept with women before and may be seen flirting with or referencing relationships with women in the past. He is still gay, and still uninterested in being with women long term, he's simply closeted to all but a few individuals. So, unless your muse is Martha Manning (who Laurens DOES love in a manner, and he always will), shipping with female characters on here most likely isn't going to happen unless it's heavily plotted/developed and part of an overall plot, and you understand that it will not be a conventional sexual relationship. I'm sorry if that disappoints you but I've read Laurens as a gay male for so long I have trouble seeing him any other way.

⭐ I will not roleplay slavery plots. This is not up for debate. Roleplaying a highly fictionalized version of a long dead real person who existed during a troubling time is one thing, but I draw the line at that. For this reason, while I'll happily play with non-white muses, muses using non white faceclaims, and crossovers with characters of all sorts, I'll have to decline playing with any muse claiming to actually be writing slavery. There’s a difference between, say, roleplaying a character like Daenerys, a fictional character who was technically a slave-bride sold by her brother, and writing actual slavery from a very real, horrible time period. Slave ownership will of course be mentioned on this blog, that's unavoidable, but just like the mention of rape may happen on this blog from time to time, it will be in reference to a past event or speaking about the subject in general, not roleplaying a scene of it. Please respect this rule, I was hesitant to make this blog at first, because I know it makes some people uncomfortable, but I won't glorify such a horrible real thing that happened to so many people.

Exclusives/Mains

Just a head's up, unless I develop a bunch of chemistry with a particular portrayal of a muse I'm not likely to agree to being exclusives with anyone, unless perhaps it's a very niche or divergent character that has formed a good relationship of some sort with John and I'd have trouble interacting with other versions of that muse. For major characters I just feel it would be unfair to say no to someone who I click with in every other way, solely because I have already befriended someone else writing that character.

I will, however, discuss becoming mains with someone whom I've either developed or plotted out detailed storylines/interactions with regarding our specific portrayals of our characters. This means that I tend to reply to them quickly when I'm online, or may make little gifts (moodboards, aesthetic things, mini ficlets, whatever) for them unprompted, have a verse dedicated just to them, etc. Even if it seems like we haven't done much on Tumblr, there may be a lot of off-site development on Discord or whatnot that led to us plotting out intricate stories for our muses.

Current Mains:

Alexander Hamilton - @quillborn

⭐️ Send private messages.

⭐️ Send my character asks/starters/memes.

⭐️ Tag me in things.

⭐️ Ask to plot or ship.

⭐️ Ask for angst, fluff, etc.

⭐️ Submit things to me & my muse.

⭐️ Do crack and other ridiculous things with me!

⭐️ Like my RP threads.

⭐️ Like my personal posts.

⭐️ Comment on my personal/OOC posts (if you want to).

⭐️ Comment on my crack threads.

⭐️ Instant Message (IM) me if you'd like to talk, whether we're friends already or not!

DON'T

⭐️ Send hateful messages to me about other people and especially my mutuals; doesn't count if it's about the muse and not the person playing them, however. Also, if I’ve got beef with someone for whatever reason, don’t harass them/send hate to them on my behalf, please. I don’t condone anonymous abuse, attacking others, or harassment. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself, I promise.

⭐️ Introduce yourself with ‘wanna ship?’ For one, I prefer if we’ve at least started a roleplay together, or have spoken OOC. Auto shipping doesn’t always work out and I hate promising people something only to realize there’s zero chemistry, because then I feel like I’m letting them down.

⭐️ Come into my inbox with just ‘wanna rp?’ and that’s it. Please at least have some idea of what you want to roleplay, it’s not very fun when someone approaches you to RP but then doesn’t offer up any suggestions at all. Remember, you are always free to send me memes, whether we’re mutuals or not, and hit me up for whatever plot you think might interest me! I want to hear about it!

⭐️ Spam me with "reminder" messages if I've already acknowledged you the first few times.

⭐️ Reblog my RP threads if you're not a participant in them.

⭐️ Send me anonymous OOC hate. Hate for Laurens is fine, it's just another form of roleplay.

⭐️ Kill off my character or severely injure/maim my character without permission or having plotted something involving that with me first.

⭐️ Follow me if you're a porn blog. I don't mind blogs that post NSFW content, or smut a lot, etc. I mean blogs that aren't for RP and are literally just a normal looking blog until you click on it and the header and first twenty posts are hardcore nudity and porn. I hate those things.

⭐️ Shame my ships.

⭐️ Complain about my tagging. I put my smut under a 'read more' without exception and tag them as "NSFW //" with two dashes. Things that are not necessarily graphic but still have sexual undertones go under "Suggestive //". I use these tags to avoid attracting attention from porn blogs and porn bots that track certain key words, as such I do not tag my content with "Smut" or trigger words such as "dick, oral, anal, nudity, etc", please block my NSFW and Suggestive tags if you're uncomfortable. Triggery subjects (mentions of rape, animal abuse, torture, mental illness) will be tagged under the name of said trigger with a space and two dashes, example: "Self Harm //", “Suicidal Ideation //” or "PTSD //".

⭐️ Godmod my character. If you’re not sure what is/isn’t okay, come talk to me! I don’t bite! If you’re looking for an example of god mod behavior, here: “X lunged at Laurens, taking him by surprise, and hit him square in the nose, causing blood to spurt.” It might not seem like a big deal but it means that you decided how your character’s actions affected my muse, and not only that, didn’t give him a chance to dodge or anything. Not cool.

⭐️ Ship with me without permission (sending in shippy asks is A-Ok if you're interested in exploring a ship between our muses, I'm talking about things like claiming that our muses are in a relationship without discussing it with me, referencing dates or sexual acts that never happened, etc. I ship mainly with chemistry otherwise things get boring fast.

⭐️ Assume/act like our characters know each other/are closely connected (friends/family/lovers) if we've never discussed it unless it is established in canon/history. This especially goes for original characters. I'm open to Laurens forming deep relationships with OCs obviously, but those have to be developed in character, not just assumed from the first interaction.

⭐️ Attempt to roleplay with me if you are not a roleplay blog/or if you're just trying to RP as "yourself." I don't do Character X Reader imagines stuff. I don't RP with 'fan' accounts, only RP blogs. You can still send asks so long as you're not trying to initiate an RP scenario. For example, asking Laurens what his hobbies are, asking for a blessing etc? That's fine. Spamming me with different actions "you" are talking to Laurens is weird. Stop that. I will also not RP with blogs that claim to roleplay as real life people, such as Markiplier, that's super creepy. This does NOT apply to "historical fiction" roleplay (obviously since that's what this blog is), which is considered its own genre of literature. I'm talking about the above where people will 'roleplay' as real life, currently alive people like YouTube celebrities and ship them with their friends, even if they've made it clear that they're uncomfortable with it.

⭐️ Get angry at me for doing something you don't like if you don't even have a rules page for me to go by. It's not fair; you can't expect your partners to just read your mind and magically know how you feel. If something bothers you let me know, I’ll make a note about it so I avoid it during our interactions!

⭐️ Use me as a meme resource blog without ever interacting with me. I don't require "reblog karma" for you to follow me, partners are more than welcome to reblog from me, but if we never interact and I just occasionally see you reblog fifteen posts from my meme tag and then disappear again I'm not gonna be happy. Go to the source or to an archived blog no longer getting notifications, please!

⭐️ Reblog my Meta/Headcanons. If they're from a different blog it's fine but the ones I've personally written are for MY portrayal of Laurens. I work hard on most of my stuff and I'd prefer if you didn't reblog it, not because you aren't allowed to have the same headcanon ideas as me, but because then it ends up getting liked or reblogged by lots of other people, spamming my notifications, etc.

OCs & Multimuses

I love OCs and multi-muse blogs (I have my own multimuse sideblog over at @historyremembers, which has other 18th century characters including the Hamilton children and some OCs), so feel free to interact! That being said, please have an about page of some sort on your blog. I can't follow back blogs that have absolutely no information available regarding their character(s). I don't RP with OC children of Laurens. This is nothing personal, but I'm fairly certain he was gay in real life and prefer to play him that way, and he only had one child - who he never even got to meet - in real life, so it just wouldn't make sense to me for him to have other kids running around unless he'd adopted some. If you're a multimuse, I may not follow you back if I'm only familiar with two of your muses if you have a blog of fifteen characters, simply because I'd prefer to keep my dash clean and only have characters/fandoms I'm familiar with on it. I'll still RP with you if you have a character I'm interested in! I just might not follow back if the majority of your characters I do not know, I apologize for this.

If you’ve made it to the end of this, congrats! I know it couldn’t be easy (my ADHD brain was frustrated trying to just write all this up) but it’s necessary so there’s not misunderstandings on what I am/am not willing to RP. I won’t ask for a password since I trust most people to have the courtesy to at least skim the rules of those they want to RP with.

Have a nice day!

#Everybody Listen Up! {PSA}#Out Of The Field {OOC}#Long Post //

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unclefungusthegoat · 5 years ago

Text

A CONFUSION OF TONGUES - Far Cry 5 Week Day 3 (The Resistance)

Day 3, YAY! I had the greatest time ever writing this. It’s just a pile of stupid crap but @lucy-and-loki wanted a story where Chad, Wheaty and Cheeseburger were mentioned and so this is what I came up with.

And anyway, it’s about time Chad gets some love hahahaha

Chad Wolanski simply wants to mind his own business, work out what the hell a vegan burger is so that he can woo Adelaide Drubman, and preferably not have to talk to the obnoxious John Seed, who has just shown up at The Grill Streak, with a proposition and a couple of thinly disguised threats.

And what is he going to do about it?

Let's just say the Tower of Babel has got nothing on Chad.

This can be read on AO3: HERE

My whole Far Cry Week series can be read: HERE

Chad Wolanksi had never made a vegan burger in his entire life. As far as he was concerned, plants were plants and the only way they should be anywhere near his grease-slathered grill was having been digested once by the elk or bison sizzling over the heat.

Only… Adelaide Drubman wasn’t of that opinion.

Not since she’d met that spinach worshipping, kale for brains Californian.

God, that woman was a cougar , sex on legs with a quick wit, flirty charm and a healthy appetite to boot. Exactly the sort of woman Chad Wolanski went for. He held the long revered stance that the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach… and so here he was, on a blisteringly hot July afternoon, stood on the porch of The Grill Streak, experimenting his way through heaps of unfamiliar produce to whip up the perfect vegan burger.

He’d drop by the marina and give it to her personally.

Maybe he’d invite her out for a steak?

Show her what she was missing out on.

As he mushed and mashed and squashed and pounded his latest attempt into a patty sized lump and tossed it onto the grill, he heard brakes screeching to a halt in the parking lot. One of those horrendous Peggie songs was blasting on full whack through the open window. The smooth humming cut out as the engine was switched off, the door slammed dramatically behind the driver, and footwear obviously inappropriate for the mountainous Whitetail region came striding towards him.

“Mr Wolanski?” Chad could hear the smug grin in the way the approaching voice drew out the syllables of his name, hissing a little on long ‘s’. He knew exactly who it was. Being a business owner of some renown, reputable and profitable in a county famed for its carnivorous population (Chad would rather die than miss the annual Testy Festy), he’d been expecting the manicured bastard for a while.

A fly danced around the misshapen patty of black beans, green beans, corn-beans right off a cob, whatever those goddamn chickpea-beans were, and something which the folks at Sunrise Farm called an ‘eggplant’. Didn’t look much like it came out of a chicken’s ass, but if it did, Chad very much wanted to get his hands on whatever oversized and no doubt juicy hen dropped the purple monstrosity.

Chad squashed the fat little insect straight onto the counter and watched it burst.

That’s exactly what he’d like to do to his latest visitor.

He turned and was faced with the ever irritating John Seed. A rare sight in this area, often far too busy sticking people’s heads into rivers down in the Holland Valley or looking at himself in a mirror, and definitely an unwelcome one.

“You are certainly an industrious man, Mr Wolanski, to be braving the heat of your kitchen in this weather.” John laughed, slick lawyer small talk weakened only by the fact that Chad could see that the man’s brow was glistening. He was probably desperate to be back at his ranch being fanned by swooning women. And why the hell was he insisting on wearing that ugly coat in 100 degree fahrenheit weather?

Chad offered no reply.

He sure as hell wasn’t about to offer a cold beverage either.

He’ll take my beverage, then he’ll take my restaurant.

All it took was a single step and Chad Wolanski was not going to take it.

John sauntered forward, surveying the Grill Streak in all her shabby, oily walled and grimy bathroom-ed glory, almost rubbing his hands together.

“You’ll be aware, Mr Wolanski, that my brother Jacob has, what one might call, an insatiable appetite for the protein food group. Something on which I’m sure the two of you can relate. And the same goes for rather a lot of his men, the ones who no doubt have paid a visit to your most nourishing and nurturing establishment.”

Chad watched this walking bacterial virus run his tattooed fingers along the surface of one of the outdoor seating tables, and rub the residual coating of meat juice between them.

The wince of disgust didn’t go unnoticed.

“They are the new alpha pack of this county, strong, loyal, a collective, more united than ever. A true militia. They make Eli Palmer’s group look like a book club. And you must take some of the glory for that, Mr Wolanski. You have provided a great service to these men and women. Fed and watered them, shared your bounty, relinquished your greed and gluttony and gave it to the community. You should be proud.”

Chad smelt his heap of mangled beans burning, and cursed under his breath. Damn Seed family, never shutting up, a permanent pain in the ass. He’d have to start all over again, and cutting up the eggplant had been hard enough last time. Ignoring John, he turned and grabbed his spatula, scooped up the patty and tossed it into a nearby garbage can.

“I have a proposition for you, Chad-”

“Iaigihtgohnnsyll, Jwn, sogtffmylndbakinyrfcycahrnfukff” Chad growled, hauling himself down the front stairs, spatula raised, wielded like a pitchfork, as if he were defending America from the British.

John’s face became utterly blank, that smirk finally wiped away. Eyes wide, brow furrowed, mouth agape at the string of unintelligible words he’d just had hurled at him. Chad relished in just how nervous even the spatula seemed to be making him. A part of him wished that John would cause trouble, and he could give him a good hiding with his utensils.

Whitehorse wouldn’t have cause to charge him with assault if he was defending his property… and would also probably be glad to hear that John Seed’s backside got what was coming to him at the hands of Hope County’s finest spatula.

“Imntinrstdinyrkultshihsujsfukffnlivmhtmwrk”.

John still didn’t move, just stood and stared.

“Dntmkmywsthz…” Chad raised his makeshift weapon again.

A bird squawked in the trees.

One of Jacob’s chosen sped on by, honking their car horn in victory.

The stifling airless day was suddenly treated to a short lived breeze.

“... I’m sorry… WHAT?”

All pretence of polite society and schmoozing was gone.

“Yhyrdm.”

“Uh… I…” John spluttered, completely oblivious to what was going on.

“YcntkyrPrhjctnshviuyrss”

“Are you even speaking English right now?”

“Alystmnhtspkinssholunlysmonuh-”

Chad could have sworn that John nearly reached into his inner coat pocket to retrieve a crucifix, in the hope that he could banish the demon that spoke in tongues.

“Those aren’t words- ”

“Yrthonlfkrnthcwntwhudnunstnm-”

“Do they not teach diction in Montana?”

“DthynhtichyhwtnhdrhssnthdhknGyhgh?”

“Maybe if you spoke a little slower , a little louder ?”

“IlspkhwwIwnthnyvrmuh-”

The usually dangerously collected lawyer was seething with visible rage. Chad couldn’t tell if he had a holster on his hip under that coat of his, but suspected that even with his track record of behaviour that went beyond questionable legality, John Seed wouldn’t be stupid enough to draw a pistol on a man armed only with a spatula in broad daylight.

“If this is supposed to be humorous, I warn you now, I am not a man who appreciates or tolerates being messed around and made to look a fool- ”

“Wlyhlkafllrhdyfyhcntuhndstnamnspkyonlngwg.”

“The Father requires your co-operation in these matters, and it would be wise not to play games with his patience, or mine- ”

“Ivlrdygvnmnswrntsno.”

John clamped his lips together, and breathed heavily, trying to regain his composure. There was a vein throbbing in his forehead, sweat now running from his hairline as they faced each other in the almost unbearable sunlight. Chad wondered just how much longer the man was going to endure this undignified performance, but realised he was in for an encore when John pushed his shoulders back, and plastered a smiling grimace on his face.

“Now, Mr Wolanski... we’re going to try again.” His voice was low, ominously quiet and all the wrong kinds of pleasant. “I have a proposition for you, one that would bring you into the Project’s embrace as a brother-”

“ThnkbhnthnkmnonlchdnIlkithawy.”

John threw his hands up in frustration.

“Do you have a sous-chef who I could speak to…” John cut himself off before finishing his point, folding his arms and resting his head in his trembling hand, rubbing at his temples, “No, why am I even asking , of course you don’t…”

“OnlnIndsm, ImnbsdmnckswthaBlngs, nIdfyntldntnyh-”

“Will you just silence yourself, for a moment, so I can think- ”

“Mlnmryls-”

“I warned you about the punishment for disrespect , Mr Wolanski, I am not an enemy you want to have. I can make your life exceptionally difficult- ”

“GhydIdlktsyyhtrhy, Jwn, Iljsthrwynmgrlnwhchycklkthundrfdgohtyr-”

“Pride is the most unforgivable of all sins, Chad-”

“FnyIhrdiwsbyna-”

“Utter another string of mumbled incomprehensible slop and I’ll-”

“Ylwh? Wwosaonwthspatulahr?”

John’s eyes darted towards the spatula, having finally picked up on a single, solitary word. Chad bared a knowing smile, unbrushed teeth yellowed with age saying everything else he wanted to say. I’m not afraid to use this and make it hurt. Maybe Adelaide will see him as a hero, cast her beetroot smoothie chugging toyboy out into the water for Ragnar to eat, and come running into his bare rugged chest and muscular arms? The scene briefly played out in front of his eyes, like the cover of one of those cheesy romance novels he flicked through in the clinic waiting room when he went to have his cholesterol measured.

More music came from the road, and Chad couldn’t have been happier to see Wheaty rolling up in a deep red 1970 Kimberlite ZZT, with Elton John’s ‘Tower of Babel’ crooning out of the speakers. Upon seeing the situation at hand, the teenager stuck his head out of the window, looking deeply concerned.

“Guess I got here just in time, huh? I’ve seen what he can do with that thing, Mr Seed, believe me, it’s not pretty.”

He hopped out of the car and half-skipped awkwardly over.

“Uh, if it’s not a bad time, Mr Wolanski? Wade asked me to pick up his usual?”

Not relinquishing his grip on the spatula, and not taking his eyes off of John, Chad replied:

“Thgtthbyrwznadyht?”

Wheaty shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand sheepishly.

“Well, Cheeseburger’s been a bit grouchy since he’s been on the diet Doctor Lindsey recommended and uh, well Wade’s feeling a bit sorry for him, y’know?”

“ImnhtsprhzdWytprthgcnlvnfsh, nydsmytngudolAmyrcnchz.”

“Yeah, I know right? Poor thing’s looking miserable as hell right now...”

“Ilmkhizomthndntywrryh.’

“Thanks Mr Wolanski, that’s a big help-”

Wheaty trailed off, double taking at their audience, and Chad saw that John was gawking again, his gaze this time dancing between the young boy, who was so effortlessly communicating with what he had considered to be crude, Neanderthalic grunting, and Chad, who had not let up on said grunting.

“Wha- HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT? WHAT IS HE SAYING? ” John demanded, screeching like a PTA mother offended by store bought cakes at a bake sale.

Wheaty frowned, confused by the question.

“What is it that you don’t get, Mr Seed?”

“I- wha- he’s not saying any words. There are NO WORDS THERE. ” John was losing it, looking like he was on the verge of fainting with utter bewilderment. He wobbled, and gripped the side of the nearest greasy table, eyes scanning the floor, looking at nothing, as he tried to process what the hell was going on. Chad chuckled to himself silently. He couldn’t wait to tell Adelaide how he’d made John Seed squeal like a mid-tantrum toddler.

Maybe he’d get a steak and sex?

“...Are you OK, Mr Seed? Are you having a stroke?” Wheaty made no move to help the man, but pulled out his cell phone. “I could try and get a signal and call an ambulance?”

“Trznzygnlhr-” Chad started.

John’s head snapped up and he threw both of them a filthy glare. Straightening up, he adjusted his vest and jacket, smoothed his hair back, still visibly vibrating with boiling rage, and flounced away towards his sun-warmed Mercedes, calling back as he went.

“Mark my words, Wolanski, I know your game! The wrath of the Father shall rain down upon you for your contempt! You will rue the day you made a mockery of me... and I shall so enjoy watching this shithole burn to the ground! And when you feel the hand of the Project’s justice, there’ll not be a single goddamn person there to listen to your insolent vociferating- ” He spat, before climbing into his car and speeding away towards the Henbane River as fast as the engine could take him.

Chad and Wheaty stood watching the dust rise behind him in a daze.

“And he says he can’t understand you … what the fuck does ‘vociferating’ mean?” Wheaty asked, as they retreated back to the safety of the shady Grill Streak. Both were in need of a Whistling Beaver beer and Chad wasn’t exactly one for being too concerned with age of drinking laws, or even permits to sell alcohol in the first place. No one asked, so he didn’t say.

“Idnszpzwlevrno, hsrahllancminbk” Chad laughed, before suddenly deflating again at the sight of mountains of uncooked beans.

Wheaty leaned over to peer at it, frowning at how unappetizing it all looked.

“Mrs Drubman coming for dinner?”

Chad beamed at his young friend.

Things would soon be as they should again. Seed-less, bean-less and vegan-less.

“Yh. Ihpzo.”

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WHEATY'S GUIDE TO SPEAKING CHAD

Iaigihtgohnnsyll, Jwn, sogtffmylndbakinyrfcycahrnfukff - I ain’t gonna sell John, so get off my land, back in your fancy car and fuck off

Imntinrstdinyrkultshihsujsfukffnlivmhtmwrk - I’m not interested in your cult shit so just fuck off and leave me to my work

Dntmkmywsthz - Don’t make me use this

Yhyrdm - You heard me

YcntkyrPrhjctnshviuyrss - You can take your project and shove it up your ass

Alystmnhtspkinssholunlysmonuh - At least I’m not speaking asshole, unlike someone

Yrthonlfkrnthcwntwhudnunstnm - You’re the only fucker in the county who can’t understand me

DthynhtichyhwtnhdrhssnthdhknGyhgh? - Do they not teach you how to not dress in the dark in Georgia?

IlspkhwwIwnthnyvrmuh - I’ll speak how I want, thank you very much

Wlyhlkafllrhdyfyhcntuhndstnamnspkyonlngwg - Well you look a fool already if you can’t understand a man speaking your own language

Ivlrdygvnmnswrntsno - I’ve already given my answer and it’s no

ThnkbhnthnkmnonlchdnIlkithawy - Thanks, but no thanks, I’m an only child and I like it that way

OnlnIndsm, ImnbsdmnckswthaBlngs, nIdfyntldntnyh - Only one I need is me, I’m the best damn cook south of Billings, and I definitely don’t need you

Mlnmryls - My land, my rules

GhydIdlktsyyhtrhy, Jwn, Iljsthrwynmgrlnwhchycklkthundrfdgohtyr - Go ahead, I’d like to see you try John, I’ll just throw you on the grill and watch you cook like the underfed goat you are

FnyIhrdiwsbyna - Funny, I thought it was being a...

Ylwh? Wwosaonwthspatulahr? - You’ll what? Who’s the one with the spatula here?

Thgtthbyrwznadyht? - Thought the bear was on a diet?

ImnhtsprhzdWytprthgcnlvnfsh, nydsmytngudolAmyrcnchz - I’m not surprised, Wheat, the poor thing can’t live on fish, needs meat and good old American cheese

Ilmkhizomthndntywrryh - I’ll make him something, don’t worry

Trznzygnlhr - There’s no signal here

Idnszpzwlevrno, hsrahllancminbk - I don’t suppose we’ll ever know, he sure as shit ain’t coming back

Yh. Ihpzo. - Yeah. I hope so

#far cry 5 #FC5Week #FC5Week2019 #john seed #chad wolanski #wheaty #behold the evidence that I think I'm funny hahahahaha #I'm not a comedy writer #but I couldn't resist writing this #I promise I'll go back to my speciality of writing John in misery soon

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years ago

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Forty-Seven: Sugar Coated ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

If there’s one thing Sasuke can consider a pet peeve...it would be people sugarcoating things. If you’re going to tell him something, just...tell him! Don’t beat around the bush or talk in circles in an attempt to soften whatever you’re trying to say. He himself has always been rather...blunt. He’s got no time to dance your dance for the sake of niceties or social decorum. He’d much rather get to the point, and move on. Life is short, and he’s got things to do.

But not everyone feels that way.

When he met Hinata - or rather...when he met her again - he could immediately tell she was one of those people. Both because of her nature, and her upbringing. It’s not a Hyūga’s way to simply talk plainly. Oh no. They have to obfuscate and speak in circles as to avoid being too direct. To be direct is to be rude.

Too kind to simply speak her mind, too diplomatic to risk offense, and with a slight stutter that further slows her speech, Hinata takes her time with her orating. At first it threatens to bring about a kind of irritation. Is she really going to be the sort to drag out every conversation they have?

But, to Sasuke’s honest surprise...she doesn’t. The stutter is, admittedly, hard to avoid. But he can’t fault her for that. He’s certain it’s born from a meek nature...which in turn, he soon learns, was brought about by her father’s treatment of her when young. True, she’s grown a lot since then - and he’ll soon learn just how much. But a lifelong verbal tic isn’t something one can simply drop.

Look at Naruto.

One of the first times Sasuke speaks to Hinata after the war is after his brother’s revival. Given Itachi’s rather...precarious position (he’s still an S-ranked missing nin, after all), it’s been suggested that the Hyūga lend their strength and standing to the remnants of their cousin Uchiha.

In all honesty, Sasuke’s pride is...rather stung. He’s one of the two most powerful shinobi in their world. To suggest that he needs help - especially from a clan as haughty and stuck-up (in his opinion) as the Hyūga - is a major insult.

But...he’ll admit, there’s some logic to it. They’re cousin clans. And the added numbers might spare them some agony. Sure, Sasuke (and once he’s recovered, Itachi) can take care of himself just fine. But it would still be nice to avoid the little squabbles from people stupid enough to insult him to his face. Did he make mistakes? Yes. Both brothers did. But they’re also moving forward. Being stuck in the past and harassing them about something they’re making amends for is a one-way ticket to pissing him off.

Besides, Hinata’s friends with Itachi’s...well, he might as well call her wife. She was one of the medics that helped save her life after Neji’s assault back in the chūnin exams.

...weird to think back that far. It’s almost like another life.

She also helped heal her friend after Pein’s assault. Add in her hand in reviving Neji, and she’s got pretty good standing with the Hyūga. In more than one way, the main house owes her debts.

Something she hints at taking advantage of. Which...shocks Sasuke, in all honesty. She doesn’t seem the type to do that. But she also knows that the Uchiha need all the help they can get...especially with her children so young and so vulnerable.

And Sasuke will do anything to protect his brother’s son and daughter.

So...he swallows his pride, and takes up the Hyūga on their offer.

Which means speaking to Hinata.

She’s not heiress anymore - hasn’t been for a number of years by now, if he remembers right. Hanabi’s taken that mantle. But that doesn’t mean the elder sister isn’t involved in clan politics. Still trained in diplomacy, it’s she - not her precocious sibling or haughty cousin - they send to speak with him.

Wise. The former Sasuke wouldn’t be able to take seriously, heiress or not. The latter he’d almost certainly butt heads with. Neji’s too...staunch for his liking. Too far up his own ass...though he’s gotten better since they last spoke.

Dressed in her typical attire, Hinata meets Sasuke at the Hyūga compound gate. “Hello, Sasuke-kun,” is her soft greeting, given alongside a bow.

Managing a nod in return, he just replies, “Hyūga.”

“Um...given that arrangements are still being made, and official terms drafted, this isn’t an official meeting. That will have to wait until the Uchiha clan head is...is present.”

Clan head referring to Itachi. It’s a position he’d have inherited anyway, had the clan lived. And Sasuke sure as hell doesn’t want it.

“Understandable. Aniki is still recovering.”

“Yes, I...I heard. But...given that we’re going to be in talks for...quite some time, I wanted to formally introduce myself.”

“Hyūga, we were in the Academy together. I know who you are.”

Her cheeks pinken. “I - y-yes, that’s true. But...we rarely spoke, and...it’s been q-quite some time since we’ve really, um...been acquainted. I thought it would be - would be wise to have a sort of...clean slate? To start over, and build anew.”

Her nerves are starting to make his itch. All her starting and stopping, and all these...formalities. It’s such a waste of time. “Listen, Hyūga -”

“Please, call me Hinata.”

Ignoring her cut in, he goes on. “I get what this is. But you don’t have to be so...stiff. I’m not about to rip your head off. Don’t be so nervous. I’m not a crazy nukenin anymore, either.”

She jolts a hair in surprise. “I…” Her demeanor softens. “...I never thought you were...crazy.”

A brow perks, finding that hard to believe.

“Granted, we weren’t...friends. But everyone knew what happened. And that you wanted revenge. If I were in your shoes…” She trails off. “...well, I don’t know if I - if I could have gone that far. But I understand. As someone with a clan, and...knowing what I know...I think you were more than justified. Especially given the hand the village had in it…” Hinata’s head shakes somberly. “...you had e-every right to be angry, and want justice. You...you might have taken things a bit far, but...given the actions taken against your kin, it only seems fair. Because...that was too far. Far too far. It never should have happened.”

Single dark eye watching her, Sasuke...doesn’t sense any deception from her. She’s not kissing his ass. She’s just...being honest with him. “...you don’t think I’m dangerous?”

“No.” Her answer is too firm, too certain to be a lie. “...well, true, you’re very powerful. But...I don’t think you’re going to hurt anyone. Only...only if they hurt you, o-or your family, first. And in that case...I think you’d have every right. I would do the same if someone tried to harm my sister, or my cousin.” Pale eyes look up to him, and Sasuke sees a kind of...firmness that wasn’t there when he arrived.

Something about the subject has...shifted something in her. The formalities of his visit are forgotten as they discuss something else entirely. Here, and now, they’re just...people. Reminiscing over something neither of them have to be shy about.

Should be shy about.

“...well, you’re about the only one who thinks that way,” he sighs, tone a tinge bitter. Even his own teammates have been treating him like an explosive tag: just one spark from igniting. It’s...exhausting, really.

“Well...to be fair, I’ve been given perspective some people don’t have.”

“My teammates know the truth.” Sasuke’s brow hardens, and for a moment, he forgets himself and speaks a bit too openly. “...they knew before the war even started. About the council, and the coup, and the massacre. And what did they do? Not a damn thing. Still thought the best course of action was dragging me back to the place of my clan’s sanctioned genocide.”

At the blunt truth, Hinata can’t help a small flinch. “...I-I think...Naruto-kun and Sakura-chan lack a bit of...um...perspective. Sakura-chan doesn’t have a clan. Neither does Naruto-kun...he doesn’t have any family. It has to be hard to...fully comprehend. But you and I...we both come from long-standing, powerful clans. And…” She ducks her head, somber. “...while yours may be gone, you still had that world view. That...experience. As I did. While I can’t fully c-comprehend what you’ve gone through...I’m in a position very similar to what yours once was. It could have been my clan that was mistreated, a-and eliminated when we tried to stand up for ourselves. It’s...easier for me to imagine that loss, given that I have that much to lose. They...they don’t.”

...he...hasn’t thought of it that way. “...hn.”

The air suddenly tinges awkward, and Hinata goes pink again. “...I-I’m sorry, we’re...so off-topic -”

“It’s fine. You’re right. You…” A pause. “...you have the perspective few do. Between being part of a big clan, and also knowing what you know...you’re about the closest person to understanding. It’s…” Another hesitation. “...refreshing. To be understood.”

Large eyes blink, expression a bit taken aback. Then Hinata gives him a soft smile. “...I don’t want to treat you any different, Sasuke-kun. It’s clear you’ve changed. And...I hope that you’re going to get the closure you need. Something should still be done about...about those who orchestrated the massacre. Until then...you have e-every right to be wary of Konoha. But...I hope you know that the rest of us? We’re rooting for you. Even if some are...worried. I’m sure that will fade in time. We all just...need to reacquaint ourselves with each other. A lot of time has passed...and a lot has changed. That can’t be undone so quickly.”

She’s...starting to get a bit long-winded again, but he finds he doesn’t mind - she makes a lot of good points. “...I’ll try to be patient.”

“So will we. But...that’s p-part of why the Hyūga want to stand with you! To show solidarity. So...hopefully others will follow our example in welcoming you back.”

“And have less incentive to mess with us,” he adds, smirking a bit in amusement at the obvious point.

“I...y-yes,” she admits sheepishly. “N-not that many would dare, I imagine. But...yes.”

“...well, I guess this counts as an introduction?” Sasuke then offers. He’s anxious to get home and check on his brother. See his niece and nephew, too.

“Oh, y-yes! Um...well, this wasn’t exactly what I had planned,” she laughs nervously. “But, um...I suppose it did acquaint us…?”

“Yeah. Well enough. Besides, something tells me I’ll see more of you soon.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“See you around, Hyūga.”

To his surprise, she puffs a bit. “Please, call me Hinata! There’s too many Hyūga to just call me that!”

Before he can stop it, Sasuke chuckles. Rather than answer, he turns and waves.

Maybe they’ll get along better than he’d feared.

This is...kinda random xD Wasn't really sure what to do with the prompt, and tbh not...sure I pulled off the idea I had as well as I wanted. Buuut I tried lol Poor Hinata just wants to be polite! But Sasuke has no patience for formalites. He just wants to talk, and talk quickly. He's got better things to do than sit and blab! But it seems he doesn't mind sitting and chatting with Hinata. She just...gets him in ways others don't. So I'm sure they'll be talking a lot more ;3c Anywho, it's past this nerd's bedtime! Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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koganeirou · 6 years ago

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Do you have a list of recommendations when it comes to otome games? You're like one of only two people who I would trust when it comes to saying what's actually good. ^^'

oh man I don’t think I’m qualified to give recommendations but bruh I am so honored you think that way about me LMAOOO. I’ve yet to play a single game that I outright disliked and wouldn’t recommend but I’ll just list some of my favourites to narrow it down!! It is time to go into my High School English Class Review and Analysis mode for the first time in my life!

also quick disclaimer to anyone that might actually read this: these are only my opinions solely!! not everyone is going to like the same games I do, so please do take this post with a grain of salt.

also second quick disclaimer: this is really fucking long I’m sorry I got a tad bit carried away LMAO. I have no way of knowing which games you’ve played or haven’t played, so I decided to just provide a brief summary for all the games I’ve listed + a paragraph or two of me gushing because why not.

1. Code: Realize ~Guardian of Rebirth~.

I finished Code Realize recently and if it isn’t obvious enough with my gushing testimonial, I really think this game is phenomenal and it’s definitely one of my favourites.

Cardia has a fiery acid in her body that melts anything she touches, and she has spent two years of her life living like a lifeless doll in a dirty mansion because her asshole dad instructed her to wait there for him. The story starts off with her getting kidnapped by the government but she’s rescued by a suave ass gentleman thief. And from there, she begins to journey on with this man and his companions, trying to find her missing father, as well as remove her poison from her body.

This game is straight up an adventure story, and I think anyone who likes steam punk, historical settings, and government/political drama, would enjoy this game. This game has a tooon of historical/religious/literary references too in case you’re a sucker for any kind of lore. The writing, story telling, world building, and all around character development are A+. While the plot isn’t overly complex, the story is definitely up there in terms of depth of narrative, and it incorporated a lot of overarching themes and messages that I enjoy. Two of the routes in this game are memorable to the point of actually being some of my favourite otome routes ever (San and Fran lmao).

2. Nightshade.

Basically a game with hot ninjas and an even hotter heroine. (Seriously, the heroine is gorgeous.)

Enju is your typical “kind, naive, sheltered” princess type of heroine; daughter of her village leader. However she’s been conditioned into believing that her worth as a person is measured by how useful she is to her village, and thus, is desperate to prove herself. On her first mission, she gets pulled into a political dispute when she’s framed for the murder of the ruler, and as a result, she’s ousted from her village and forced to run away from execution.

I really enjoyed Enju as a heroine, because the game starts off with her being a “I will live and die for my village” type of girl, but as the story progresses, she learns to place more value and confidence in herself as a person, and it’s done in a very wholesome manner.

Another game with a historical setting and a ton of political drama LMAOO. It was actually my favourite until I played Code Realize because it has some of the strongest writing I’ve ever seen in otome games (cough Hanzo’s route). Unfortunately this amazing writing isn’t applicable for all the routes but alas every game has its ups and downs. This game has a lot of “duty versus personal feelings” conflict going on and it is also a train wreck of angst and tragedy if that’s your cup of tea. Also like Code Realize, two of the routes are some of my favourite otome routes ever (Hanzo and Kuroyuki). Now this is just total shameless advertising on my part, but I lowkey feel like Saeran fans would like Kuroyuki, because Kuroyuki shares a lot of similarities to Saeran and his route also deals with similar themes as Saeran’s route. (this is just my shameless bias because both Kuroyuki and Saeran are my Best BoysTM).

3. Cinderella Phenomenon.

Now this game is the one game I’d recommend everyone and their mothers to play because it’s completely free! And despite it being completely free, it’s a lot better than the majority of pay-to-play games I’ve played.

The story follows Lucette, princess of Angielle. She’s still grieving for her deceased mother and harbors intense resentment towards her father and step family. Because of this, she’s cold, rude, entitled, and self centered. An all round bitch. But she’s my bitch, and I love her to death. Months before her 18th birthday, she gets cursed by a witch and has her title as princess completely stripped from her because no one can remember who she is. She becomes a nameless peasant on the street, and in order to break the curse, she has to do three good deeds.

This game has a lot of fantasy elements and incorporates different fairy tales; Lucette and all the datable boys are cursed and their curses are all based on fairy tales which is hella cool. Most of the boys’ curses remain a mystery at first, so learning about what curse they have and why they were cursed was honestly what made this game so enjoyable. Lucette herself is a really endearing protagonist, because while she’s never outright cruel or abusive to others, she’s incredibly unlikable due to her awful personality. But as we learn more about her, we get to see that there’s a lot more emotional complexity behind Lucette’s character beyond just “she’s a snobby spoiled rich princess”.So many times, characters are overly vicious and cruel to others for literally no reason but then the writers just slap on some sloppy and lazy “tragic backstory uwuwu” just to swipe it all under the rug and expects us to forgive them. This isn’t the case at all for Lucette, and she’s by far my favourite execution of the whole “bitchy heroine” trope.

She also has a very interesting and unique dynamic with the boys. It’s a very wholesome story with wholesome characters and I would pay real money to play this game if it wasn’t free.

4. Psychedelica of the Black Butterfly.

If it isn’t obvious from my gushing testimonial part 2, I really like this game too.

Our heroine, Ai, wakes up in a strange, Gothic mansion, with no memories of who she is or why she’s there. She gets attacked by a bunch of monsters, but is saved by a man who is in a similar amnesiac situation as she is. She meets other people in the same situation, and the only clue of escape her group has is to collect these “Kaleidoscope shards” that the monsters possess. So now she has to go monster hunting with a sausage fest of hot boys in order to escape the creepy ass mansion she’s trapped in.

This game’s strongest point is straight up the aesthetic, not going to lie. It’s just so damn pretty that I’m willing to forgive all its short comings. The game has an incredibly strong atmosphere; the manor is enchanting and beautiful, yet at the same time incredibly eerie and creepy and even frightening. Though I do think this game is less of an otome game and more of a standard VN with multiple character endings as opposed to routes (like Zero Escape). Because of this, the romance is a little on the meh side but I would still recommend this game even if you’re mainly looking for romance. The story incorporates a lot of cliches that I don’t really like, but it definitely has some really interesting lore, and you can tell how much thought the writers put into crafting the setting, and the story behind the mansion. I haven’t played the second game (Psychedelica of the Ashen Hawk) since it’s not released for English yet, but from what I’ve seen, it seems to expand on the lore introduced in PBB, so I’m definitely looking forward to playing that game.

Also the game has some A+++ character designs. Seriously, everyone is just so pretty.

5. Collar X Malice.

Our heroine, Ichika, is a country bumpkin gal who’s also a rookie police officer, policing around Shinjuku which has been recently plagued by violent “X-Day” crimes, committed by the terrorist/cult group, Adonis. While Ichika’s on duty, she’s assaulted and kidnapped and when she wakes, she realizes that someone has put a collar around her neck. The voice from the collar declares her to be a sympathizer of Adonis, and threatens to kill her unless she works towards solving the X-day crimes and uncovering the ringleader.

While I don’t necessarily agree with the people who treat this game like the holy grail because I had quite a few writing issues with this, this game is still an all round solid game and I’d definitely recommend it to anyone who enjoys criminal stories/murder mysteries. This game has a lot of “WHAT IS JUSTICE?!” as its overarching theme, which is kind of cliche and over done, but I think this game executed it really well. It deals a lot with corrupted police forces and unjust law systems which I think is applicable even in the real world.

Though in my honest opinion, I think this game’s strongest point is the cast of villains. I have yet to see a game with villains as complex and interesting as the Adonis gang. There’s all sorts of personalities, and all sorts of motives, from people who joined to retaliate against their abusers, to people who joined simply to exact petty revenge, to people who joined to exact not-so-petty revenge. Again, revenge stories are kind of cliche, but I think this game pulled it off very well and unraveling all the X-day crimes and the motives behind them was a joy.

6. Black Wolves Saga: Bloody Nightmare.

OKAY I’m completely cheating with this one because I haven’t even played the game yet (it’s next on my to play list after I’m done my exams) but I cannot wait until I finish the game just to put this on the list.

Fiona is a girl with an incredibly weak body, and because of this, has been strung up in a tower for her entire life because she might die if she steps outside. On her 16th birthday, she’s finally let out of the tower, however her happiness is cut short when one of the obnoxious princes of Webling barges into her birthday party and demands that Fiona follows him to the palace because she’s been faced with several witch accusations. And from there on, she’s completely thrown into a paradise of cruelty and angst as everything that could possible go wrong, does go wrong.

This game is only in JP because there’s no english localization, but a group of amazing people were kind enough to patch the game. There’s a second game (Last Hope), but there’s no english patch for it as far as I know. I’ve downloaded the patch for Bloody Nightmare but I’ve yet to actually test it on the game to see if it works and if it doesn’t work then weelllll. I’m gonna be really sad OTL. I’m not really sure how much I’d recommend it to those who aren’t really interested in it because patching it in English is a bitch and a half and requires dedication but I still mentioned this game because I am v passionate about it. I know most of the spoilers because of summary translation posts I’ve read, and I’ve been wanting to play this game for like three years. It has a really intriguing and complex story and characters and I love the Medieval/Gothic setting.

That being said, I wouldn’t recommend it to everyone since it has some pretty graphic depictions of abuse. Also the romance is kind of UHHH not exactly wholesome in some cases since you have batshit insane lunatic twins as poster boys (no overstatement) so the relationships that the heroine has with them is only going to reflect that. Still, solid storytelling and it definitely thrives on that moral ambiguous goodness that we all love.

7. Nameless and Dandelion.

While these games aren’t my favourites by any means, this is mainly here if you’ve played and liked Mystic Messenger, because I think playing Nameless and Dandelion are also worth it since you might as well play allLLlll the Cheritz games lol. Dandelion has some pretty abhorrent game play (unless you like mindless stat grinding) but *whispers* at least play it for Jieun, aka best boy, the one boy who’s route was so well written that it made all reservations I had about playing Dandelion disappear. While I enjoyed Nameless and Dandelion more than Mystic Messenger, they weren’t as memorable as Mystic Messenger was. Plus there’s no Saeran so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. But I still think any Mystic Messenger fan should play the other two Cheritz games.

ANYWAY. THIS WAS REALLY LONG. IF YOU READ ALL THIS, THANK YOU LOL. I hope the next game you play will be a game you enjoy o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

#starlightofaetherius #ask

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whelvenwings · 7 years ago

Note

(1) Hi there first I just want to say I’m not trying to dissuade anyone from the queer community in anyway or anything. I think that people who are ace should totally be openly accepted in queer environments but I am somewhat uncomfortable with the idea that being ace qualifies someone to call themselves queer. Just because ace is a relatively large umbrella term and for example if someone who is only attracted to the opposite gender but is also demi (just an example not a call out or anything)

(2) is able to identify in the same community as people who throughout history have been faced with disgust and threat of murder and who still face these ideology to this date makes me kind of uncomfortable. I’m not trying to say that the problems that ace people face aren’t valid and important to discuss it just seems in a different category. And while I realize that queer is supposed to come from the concept of being the odd one out sort of scenario its history is bathed in a very violent past

(3) towards the community which is why it’s so passionately reclaimed. And I just can’t see that on the same level. Again I think that there are a lot of similarities that can be shared between ace and other members of LGBTQ+ and I adamantly support ace inclusion in the community itself I just don’t like the connection to the word queer. Ik this was super long sorry just wanted to add my long ass rambling input*tw for suicide mentions and sexual assault mentions in this response. please take care.*

I do understand where you’re coming from here, anon. and it’s awesome that you support ace people being in the community! thank you for that.

I feel that the statements you’re making about heteroromantic demisexual people are ones that are often levelled at different areas of the community - that of “passing privilege”, right? as in, most of the time you seem straight to straight people, so you are less queer/not queer, whereas those who have no opportunity to seem straight to straight people in the same way are more queer/the only ones who can be queer. this kind of thinking can get a little out of hand imo and it’s basing our definition of queerness entirely on what straight people think of us, rather than how we feel about ourselves? if that makes sense. personally, that just doesn’t sit right with me.

it’s true that a heteroromantic demisexual person might seem to have it comparatively easy and I get that. when you look closer, however, I think that things aren’t simple. for my Master’s dissertation, I looked into what few statistics we have about ace-spectrum people and found a study reporting that the ace-spec community has one of the highest rates of suicidality in the community as a whole. it’s not easy to accept this as true, given the paucity of evidence - not least because the study itself is hidden in the libraries of academic institutions and not freely available for anyone to peruse on the internet. I can link you to my dissertation itself if you’d like more information. but the rate of suicidality is at least significant enough to be noted, even if it isn’t one of the highest rates - and why? I think it’s any number of things. it’s the ghostliness. it’s the feeling of not being able to put yourself into words. it’s the pain of feeling like you can belong nowhere. it’s the pain of trying to have sex, and it hurts, because you’re not attracted to your partner and not aroused. it’s grieving the perfect and easy heterosexual and heteroromantic relationship that you thought you would have one day, in all its media-polished perfection. it’s feeling like you’re letting your family down. it’s any one or even all of these things and more, and they build up and build up. these, imo, are queer feelings. feelings that members of other parts of the community will recognise. feelings that we can share and help each other with. suicidality is so horribly and devastatingly common for queer people. it’s certainly true that ace-spec people are not nearly so likely to suffer murder as other parts of the community, but if it’s blood you want in exchange for the queer name, then honestly anon we have plenty. this goes for demisexual people, who might take years upon years to form a bond strong enough to feel sexual attraction, just as much as it applies to asexual people. all ace-spec people are capable of feeling this loss and confusion.

we could also mention the issue of corrective rape in the ace community. (tw for rape mentions and sexual assault mentions throughout the article linked there.) this is a problem that is, at least in my mind, a queer one. it isn’t unique to the ace community - it’s a threat and sometimes a horrific reality experienced by queer people from all parts of the community. I know you said that you agree that ace issues are valid, and I appreciate that, but I feel that an issue like this does fall under the umbrella of problems related to queerness.

I had “queer” thrown at me a couple of times at school by my friend group - not because I was exhibiting signs of attraction to women, which people in my friend group at least were kind of tentatively fine with (there were at least two wlw in the group, one who had a girlfriend for a year or so, and they never got called a slur), but because I didn’t want to be with anyone. I didn’t feel anything sexual for anyone and I got a couple of “frigid” and “queer” comments because they knew queer was kind of mean and, to them, meant sexually abnormal. if you think someone has to have had the word thrown at them first to be able to reclaim it, then... *shrugs*

not every individual ace-spec person suffers these (and more) issues that face the community as a whole. however, the same could be said for any part of the community. imo this isn’t about individual privilege. one doesn’t look at the richest person in a city and decide that everyone in the city is rich.

I said in a previous post that my aceness was the part of my identity that felt the most queer to me, even though I am a lesbian. the fact that you can’t see passion in the struggle of ace-spec people honestly doesn’t surprise me though it saddens me, given that one of the worst stereotypes about us is that we lack all passion and emotion. there’s also an illusion, I think, of newness to asexuality, because we’ve only just come to recognise it by name more recently - and it makes it feel like our community hasn’t seen the centuries of struggle that other parts of the wider community have. the truth is, we were here the whole time. forced into marriages we didn’t want, having sex with people we weren’t attracted to, bearing children we didn’t ask for, being treated as heterosexual and having no words for why that felt so wrong. we were here the whole time, just no one could see us.

as I’ve said before, I’m not trying to change anyone’s mind here. I’m just laying out my own opinions and reasoning. thank you for the politeness of your asks!

#anon #asexuality #suicide mention cw #rape mention cw #a long-ass ramble for a long-ass ramble #my debt is repaid

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master-sass-blast · 6 years ago

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Strong as Stone- Part Twelve

*gets on top of steep stool and shouts* LORDS, LADIES, AND NOBLE GENTRY OF NON-COMFORMING GENDER IDENTITIES, IT’S GETTING GAY IN HERE!!!

Welcome back! Sorry I’m a little late. I’ve been weaning onto some new meds, and it’s been a bit of a doozy.

But! Why worry about that when we can read fanfiction instead!

Last time, we watched the latest edition of “Politics suck!” starring our least favorite troglodite, President Donald Trump.

Trump smacked Okoye across the ass, and --yes--Okoye will get her revenge, but right now it’s gay time!

This edition covers Wakanda’s “Festival of Loves,” which includes Wakanda’s version of Pride.

Author’s Note: This is not me saying how we do Pride is wrong. I’m just playing with some different concepts for a work of fiction. Don’t eat me alive, please.

Rating: T for language and mentions of abuse.

Warnings: mentions of abuse/abusers, enough fluff to rot your teeth off, lots and lots of gay energy, and mild sexual content.

Pairings: Okoye x M’Baku, Shuri x OC, and background T’Challa x Nakia.

@the-last-hair-bender

Everyone has their own perspective on what makes the best source of power. Some will say wealth. Some will say strength. Some will say cunning.

All of those are fine and good, but know that love is the strongest power there is, my dears.

Love of self can lead one man to hoard away unimaginable wealth from the needy. Love of things can lead many to fill their lives with material objects --and a great deal of debt.

Love can also lead to beautiful art, powerful movements, inspired leadership, and healthy, tender individuals. This is why we celebrate love. It is a gift from Bast, as much as the heart-shaped herb.

It may seem contradictory, but keep love in your lives, my dears. A Dora who knows no love is no Dora at all.

Okoye had to force herself to keep from sprinting as she navigated the back halls of the palace. Try to stay composed. You wouldn’t want to actually run into someone.

Five minutes ago, Ayo had poked her head in her office to deliver the news she’d been waiting five days to hear.

M’Baku’s ship had landed.

Okoye allowed herself to up her pace to a brisk walk as she caught sight of M’Baku on the landing pad, walking towards the main palace entrance. But it’s not like I need to take the scenic route, either.

Two months. Two long, lonely months of separation. Two months of being relegated to video calls and passionate letters –M’Baku, as she had discovered, was something of a closet romantic. Two months of not being able to touch her lover, of not being able to feel his strong arms wrap around her, of not being able to hear his warm, deep laughter right in her ears.

Okoye jogged around a corner, then broke into a run as she saw M’Baku step into the hall, grinning widely.

M’Baku ran towards her, just as eager, and caught her in his arms. He swept her off her feet and spun her in a circle, kissing her passionately as he murmured praises to her and Hanuman. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Okoye wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing happily. “I missed you.”

A growl slipped past M’Baku’s lips as his arms tightened around her. “And I you.” He stepped forward, still holding her in his arms, until they were up against the wall.

Okoye inhaled sharply as M’Baku started kissing and sucking his way down her neck, his hips rocking against hers. “M’Baku, this is not the time or the place!”

“On the contrary. We’ve missed each other for several weeks. What could be a better time than now?”

“M’Baku. Please.”

M’Baku let out a disgruntled sigh and stepped back, carefully setting her on the floor. “I’ve missed you, Okoye. I don’t feel any particular shame in that.”

“Neither do I, but there’s something to be said for professionalism,” Okoye said as she straightened her armor. When M’Baku’s frustrated expression didn’t lift, she smoothed her hands over his chest in a soothing fashion. “Besides, I’m taking the second day of the festival off so we can celebrate together.”

M’Baku raised an eyebrow. “And the significance thereof?”

“The second day focuses relationships, romantic and platonic. I thought it was fitting.” She grinned up at him. “It also means that I get the night and next morning off. I don’t suppose you can think of something I could do with all that free time.”

M’Baku grinned down at her. “You could do me.”

Okoye chuckled as she leaned up on her toes to kiss him. “I like the sound of that.”

M’Baku sighed as they broke the kiss a few moments later. “How have you been, Okoye?” His expression darkened slightly. “How are you fairing from your run in with the American idiot?”

Okoye grimaced as they started walking down the hall in the direction M’Baku had come from. “I’m alright. I’ve been meeting with my assigned counselor. The White House hasn’t issued an apology yet, but the King’s legal aide is confident we have enough to launch a lawsuit at the President for sexual assault and emotional damages.”

M’Baku let out an annoyed huff. “He deserves worse. I’d love to see you kick his ass in ritual combat.”

“So would I, but I doubt they’ll spring for that.”

M’Baku ‘hmph-ed’ and took her hand in his. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright. And I’m glad that we’ll get some time together during this… celebration. What will be going on, exactly?”

“Well, the festival of Loves officially lasts for three days, though the entire month is dedicated to expressing love in all forms. The first day focuses on love among family, the second on love between platonic and romantic relationships, and the third is about queer identities and attractions.”

M’Baku nodded. “And what is the third day like?”

“Well, lectures about queer identity, expression, and history are held at the central library during the morning. During the hottest part of the day, the main news network runs a broadcast recognizing contributions to the arts, sciences, and humanities by queer individuals, and during the evening a parade takes place in the streets. Official functions break off after the sun finishes setting, but a lot of people will stay out and have fun.”

“And have there ever been… incidents on the third day?”

It was Okoye’s turn to raise an eyebrow as she looked up at M’Baku. “Do you mean incidents like your uncle?”

“Yes.”

Okoye shook her head. “Not really. Everyone uses different paints on their faces to indicate how they identify. Those looking for an ‘encounter’ wear a bracelet on their left hand. Those who aren’t wear one on their right. Everything’s pretty easy to understand, so miscommunications are rare. And, for the odd bigot or two that would be daring enough to show their face, we have a security team that is trained to escort them out or detain them, depending on what the situation calls for.”

M’Baku nodded, seemingly impressed. “I wasn’t expecting that level of thoroughness. Shuri already told me about the idea behind the third day. I thought it would be good for Dewani to be surrounded by that kind of support and positivity, but she was a little…”

“Nervous?”

“To put it mildly.”

Okoye squeezed his hand. “Well, don’t force her to go if she doesn’t want to, but definitely let her know that she’ll be perfectly safe while she’s there.”

“I will. Will I be able to see you tonight?”

“Actually, you will. The Queen Mother invited me to dinner with you, Dewani, and the family. But as for now, I have a meeting with Ayo to schedule the duty rosters for the festival.”

The corner of M’Baku’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Then I’ll see you later, my love.” He kissed her cheek, and let go of her hand with a squeeze.

Okoye smiled back and started walking in the direction of her office.

“…and that pretty much settles the security team rosters. We did manage to settle the two boyfriends that wanted to celebrate the third day together.”

Okoye frowned as she studied the list. “Are they working separate shifts or together?”

“Together. I was able to find enough singles who were willing to switch for one reason or another.”

Okoye nodded, then grinned. “Very nice, Ayo. You’ve done very well in arranging everything. How are the Dora looking?”

“Djabi and Aneka wanted to switch days. Aneka wanted the third day off to participate the parades, and Djabi wanted the first day to see her grandmother. I need your approval for that.”

Okoye nodded. “You have it.” She sat back in her seat. “This is the first festival that you’ve organized the entire duty roster for by yourself. How do you feel?”

“Satisfied.”

Okoye snorted as Ayo smirked. “A woman of few words. I’m taking the second day off, so I’ll cover for you on the third day, if you like.”

Ayo nodded. “I’d appreciate it. What’s the King’s schedule look like?”

“He’s making an appearance with the Princess, the Queen Mother, and Lady Nakia tomorrow at the main festival site in each tribe’s territory –save the Jabari. That’ll run from the morning to before noon, take a break for the heat of the day, then finish before dinner. From what I’ve heard, Chief M’Baku and Dewani will coming with.”

Ayo peered at the holographic display of the schedule. “Will the Chief’s primes be accompanying him?”

“Yes. On the second day, the King and Lady Nakia will be walking through the main plaza in Birnin Zana before a celebration at the palace with the tribal leaders and their partners.”

Ayo grimaced slightly. “Great. A building full of leaders with different opinions and no problem with expressing them.”

“It’s only for a couple hours. After that, the King and Lady Nakia will be enjoying a private celebration of their own, no guards required.”

“No guards will want to be present for that bit, trust me.”

Okoye smirked. “I’ll be off on the second day. Can you handle running everything for that long?”

Ayo nodded, the picture of stoic confidence. “Of course.”

“Alright. Since the Princess is out –and, given Nakia’s orientation—the family will be participating more directly in the parades on the third day. You’ll be off then, so there’s nothing there for you to worry about.” She groaned as her kimoyo beads started chirping, reminding her of an appointment. “I have to go. The Queen Mother invited me to dinner with the family, M’Baku, and Dewani tonight.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Ayo’s face as Okoye stood a straightened her armor. “Sounds like fun.”

Okoye grimaced. “It’s always so awkward.”

“Well, you ought to get used to it. I imagine you’ll be dealing with it more, since you’re involved with the Chief.”

Okoye sighed. “I know. It’s just… weird.”

Dinner was pleasant enough. Everyone was familiar enough with each other that the conversation flowed easily, letting Okoye sit back and watch as they moved from course to course.

Dewani, however, was uncharacteristically quiet as she poked at her main course with her fork.

Shuri, amidst her excited chatter about the latest development in satellite technology, seemed to notice that her usually brash girlfriend wasn’t contributing to the controlled chaos and nudged her in the side with her elbow. “Hey. Why so glum?”

“What? I’m not glum.”

“Oh, come on! You’ve barely said a word!”

Dewani shrugged, eyes not leaving her plate. “Just tired. That’s all.”

Shuri pursed her lips, and she looked like she was itching to argue, but she settled at a warning look from her mother. “Well, I can’t wait for you to see the queer solidarity parades on the third day. There’s always fireworks, and a lot of dancing!” She grinned excitedly. “I actually get to participate this year! I don’t have to watch from the sides anymore!”

Nakia grinned back. “It’s a lot of fun. I remember my first parade. I was eleven, and my father carried me on his shoulders so I wouldn’t get trampled by the other, larger adults there.”

“Sounds like it’s quite the event,” Dewani said quietly.

“It’s awesome!” Shuri beamed at her girlfriend. “Did you ever get to do anything like that in the Jabari lands?”

Dewani’s mouth twitched into a frown. “Uh… no. I couldn’t really do that… with my uncle and everything.”

The table went dead silent at the reminder of F’Tendi and the abuse Dewani had suffered.

Shuri paled, bit the inside of her cheek, and dropped her head into her hands. “For Bast’s sake, how can I be a super genius and shove my foot in my mouth that badly?”

At that, Dewani laughed. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re excited. I just… don’t have the same confidence in my orientation, I guess.”

“No one says you have to be out at the festival,” Okoye interjected. “Plenty of people go without identifying because they aren’t sure how they want to identify or just don’t want to. You’re not obligated.”

“Yeah, but I know I’m a lesbian.”

“Yes, you are, but you can come out on your own time,” Nakia said gently. “Just because you know who you’re attracted to doesn’t mean you have to share it right then and there.”

Dewani pushed a few pieces of potato around on her plate before looking up at Okoye, an anxious glint in her eyes. “You’ve worked the festival before, right?”

“I have.”

“Do things… do people ever show up and try to… hurt anyone?”

Okoye sat back in her seat, running through her mental catalogue of all the times she’d served and attended the love parades. “I can only remember one time. There was an ex-boyfriend whose girlfriend had broken up with him for multiple reasons. He’d stalked her for a couple months, and tried to jump her at the parade.”

Dewani grimaced. “What happened?”

“Three other guys and the girl’s new girlfriend beat the shit out of him. He was arrested afterwards for stalking and harassment.”

“The parade is extremely safe,” Nakia added with a reassuring smile. “We all look out for each other.”

Okoye watched carefully as Dewani smiled back with a dim, nervous smile. Something else is going on.

Or maybe not. The girl had been abused most of her life by a homophobic, bigoted uncle. It could be past abuse and fear surfacing.

Well, it’ll become clear in due time, Okoye thought as she sipped at her wine.

Okoye rolled her neck and shoulders as the ship landed on a private dock in the Mining tribe territory. Last one. Last one, and then we’re home.

The first day was always the longest. As the ruler of Wakanda, T’Challa had to attend the official family-honoring ceremony for each tribe. Each tribe had a different time reserved, based on their respective traditions and values that surrounded the concept of family. However, without fail, three things happened during each visit:

First, the King would be greeted by the entire tribe in the spiritual and ceremonial center of the territory.

Second, the King would give a speech –tailored to the unique values and beliefs of the tribe—about the importance of love amongst family, how Wakanda was a family as a nation, and how loving and supporting each other as Wakandans was important and in the spirit of the festival.

Third, the belief specific function –for the Mining tribe, it meant that the King would meet any new infants that had been borne before the festival.

She inhaled deeply as she escorted the King, his family, M’Baku, Dewani, and the Jabari primes to the center of the Mining tribe territory with the Dora Milaje on the roster for the day. Almost done.

The greeting and speech went well. Okoye watched carefully while two off the more recent recruits –to make up for the women she’d lost fighting Killmonger and the Border tribe—stand by the King and his family as parents of new babies brought their children up for the King to see. So far, everything was going well.

Dewani sidled up next to her, having opted to hang back instead of stand with Shuri. “Can I ask you a question, or do I need to wait until we’re on the ship?”

“Ask away,” Okoye said, careful to keep an eye on the crowd and the King.

“How safe are the parades?”

Okoye frowned. “How do you mean?”

Dewani looked down at her feet, rubbing her hand up and down her arm. “You mentioned the stalker guy…”

Okoye smiled slightly, trying to be reassuring while trying to appear professional and somewhat menacing at the same time. “That was a one-off, Dewani. And, like I said, everyone jumped him before he could do anything.”

Dewani didn’t seem too reassured. She quirked her mouth from side to side as she shifted back and forth before murmuring through gritted teeth “We have celebrations like these in the Jabari lands, too. My uncle always told me that if I ever went to them, he’d find out and remind me of my place in the world.”

Okoye kept her face neutral as she processed the new information. “And you’re worried about him finding you?”

“Or one of his supporters.”

Okoye mulled the idea over. “Well, any Jabari are going to stand out amongst the crowd. Are any others coming?”

“Just a few of my brother’s friends who were curious about the festival.”

“Then I’ll make sure they and the Primes are put in our system. Anyone who doesn’t match them will be watched. Is that good?”

Dewani swallowed hard. “I guess.”

Okoye bit back a frown as Dewani walked away. Feasibly, there wasn’t too much else she could do. She had no way of knowing who was a supporter of F’Tendi and who wasn’t. However, it stood to reason that he and any others who shared his views would pose a threat to the festival-goers, meaning it warranted some sort of plan. As Okoye watched Dewani lean against her brother out of the corner of her eye, she settled on a couple ideas.

First, she needed to talk to Ayo before she clocked out for the day.

Second, she needed to talk to M’Baku and see if he knew the identities of his uncle’s supporters.

Oh no, F’Tendi, Okoye thought as the King finished seeing the last of the new children. You won’t be interfering this time. Not on my watch.

Ayo was waiting for her in her office when she got back. “Nice shirt.”

Okoye looked down at the low cut tank top she’d put on after showering. “Is it too much?”

“Depends. Are you seeing M’Baku tonight?”

“…Yes.”

“Are you looking to get plowed?”

Okoye stuck her tongue at her best friend. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Then it’s perfect. Your message said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes.” Okoye filled Ayo in on what Dewani had told her. “I’ll try to get any identities of F’Tendi’s supporters from M’Baku, and we can list the Jabari that are members of M’Baku’s and Dewani’s party, but there’s no real way of knowing who’ll be a supporter and who won’t.”

A shadow of frown flickered across Ayo’s face. “That is a problem. Do we need to put more Dora into rotation for the third day?”

Okoye mulled the idea over for a moment before ultimately shaking her head. “I don’t think so. The Jabari are going to stand out in the crowd regardless, and bigots are going to stand out even more. They don’t have any weapons outside of the ones they craft out of their sacred wood, and those can only do so much damage at a time. Besides, as ignorant and hateful as F’Tendi might be, I don’t think he’d risk causing an inter-tribe incident.”

Ayo nodded. “Alright. Anything else?”

“Actually, there was one other thing I wanted to talk to you about…”

Okoye knocked on the door to M’Baku’s room.

It opened a few seconds after, revealing M’Baku’s massive form. He smiled when he realized that she was the one who had knocked. “Well, hello.”

Okoye grinned up at him and leaned against the door frame. “I’m off for the night. I don’t suppose you’d know a good place for me to stay?”

M’Baku grinned back. “You could stay with me. Actually, the Queen Mother offered to watch Dewani for the night so she and Shuri could hang out. I’ve got the suite to myself.”

“Goodness. I guess all that’s left is for you to invite me in.”

M’Baku scooped her into his arms, kissing her passionately as he carried her inside and closed the door behind him. “You’re always welcome to stay with me.”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Well, then I guess it’s good that we’re standing right next to each other and have several hours of uninterrupted time.”

Okoye smacked M’Baku on the arm as he laughed, delighted with himself.

They were in one of the public parks on the outskirts of Birnin Zana. There were a few people walking here and there, but the lush, green expanse of grass and trees was largely empty. Between the shade of the tree they’d settled under and the steady, cool breeze, it was a pleasant morning –even by M’Baku’s standards.

“It’s about Dewani,” Okoye said once M’Baku had settled down.

“Go on,” M’Baku said, voice carefully neutral. He’d stopped looking at her, deliberately focusing on the park in front of them, and his shoulders had gone stiff.

“Relax,” Okoye said as she nudged him with her own shoulder. “We’re fine. I’m just worried about her, is all.”

That got M’Baku’s attention. He frowned down at her. “How so?”

Okoye told him about what she and Dewani had talked about the day prior. “I don’t know any of your uncle’s connections, and they could be a real threat to the regular festival goers if they show up. If you could provide me with any names and IDs, I’d appreciate it.”

“I can do that, but a Jabari is going to stand out among all you low-landers.”

“Yes, but I don’t know if any of your people are going to come down of their own volition. I don’t want them to be unfairly profiled because of what they wear or how they act, only to leave the festival with the belief that we don’t trust your tribe.”

M’Baku smiled and kissed the top of her head. “You’re wonderful, ‘koye. I’ll make sure I have a list for you by the end of the day.”

“Thank you.”

M’Baku resumed his scan of the park, far more relaxed than he had been at the start of the conversation. He jerked his chin at a stand of trees at the edge of the park. “You said there was a river over there.”

Okoye nodded. “It runs through the whole of Wakanda. It’s the same river that you found the King in.”

M’Baku stood. “Do you mind if we check it out? I’ve always wondered what it looked like at the other end.”

Okoye smiled, and took his hand as she stood. “Not at all.”

M’Baku stared at the page of colored patterns that had been set on the table in front of them. “What is all of this?”

They had gathered in the formal dining room so that everyone could do up their festival paint for the evening. Nakia –already wearing the paint that marked her as pansexual—was laughing as she did up T’Challa’s ally paint. Shuri was beaming excitedly as Ramonda did up her paint for the lesbian pattern; Ramonda, for her part, looked like she was holding back tears of pride with considerable success.

“These are the orientation and gender identity marks that everyone will be wearing today,” Okoye explained, her face already painted. “Some people don’t use it because they don’t want to, but those who do use the patterns and colors that correlate to whichever identity suits them best.”

“Right. So, you’re this one—” he tapped at the woman’s pattern for straight ally “—and I’m this one?” He tapped at the man’s pattern for straight ally.

“Yes, but you have the wrong bowl. Here, let me help you.” As she started painting the right stripes on M’Baku’s cheeks, she looked over at two of his Primes, who were smiling and talking in the Jabari dialect as they painted the symbols for homosexuality on each other. “They look they’re having fun.”

“Yeah. They’re the couple I married while you were gone.”

“Oh! Cool.” She looked up as a servant announced that O’Chenga, advisor to Chief M’Baku, had arrived. “What’s he doing here?”

“I asked him to come,” M’Baku said. “To help keep an eye on things.”

As M’Baku introduced O’Chenga to the royal family, Okoye glanced over at Dewani.

The girl had sequestered herself off in a dark corner of the room. She was sitting so that she was almost crunched in on herself, a bowl of paint and the card with the designs in her lap and a mirror in her hand. Her hands were shaking, smearing the designs into indiscernible blobs all over her face.

Okoye was about to walk over and help her when the doors opened again.

All of the Dora Milaje walked in, lead by Ayo. Her cheeks were done up with the bisexual symbols, and she was wearing a shirt that had a poem about queer identity and pride screened onto the front of it. Behind her, Aneka was done up with the asexual paint and a shirt with the pattern of the asexual flag.

All of the Dora, in fact, had come ready for the parades --face pant, parade appropriate clothing and jewelry, the bracelets, everything. Lesbian, pansexual, genderqueer, omnisexual, gender fluid, skoliosexual, transgender, demi-romantic, demi-sexual, non-binary, agender, bigender, questioning, polyamorous, queer, asexual, aromantic, bisexual, and allies… a united group of beautiful differences.

Okoye smiled, heart swelling with pride for the women she was honored to serve with and call friends.

“Commander,” T’Challa said, both caught off guard and impressed by the appearance. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I had some business to finish before I headed out to the festival.”

Dewani was staring at the rest of the Dora Milaje, mouth hanging open slightly.

I wonder if she’s ever seen this many queer people in one place before, Okoye thought.

Ayo noticed Dewani sitting in the corner and walked over to her. She knelt in front of the teenager and started talking to her, smiling gently and gesturing to the card.

After a moment, Dewani nodded and moved to a chair by the table.

“Aneka, can you get me a make-up wipe?” Ayo wiped off the smudged, bleary paint and started redrawing the symbols with the finesse of an expert. “I like your dress.”

“Thanks.” Dewani smoothed her hands over the skirt of her blue and green dress. “When… when did you realize you were bi?”

“When I was sixteen,” Ayo said. “I met a girl at the parades and realized she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And then I met a guy later that night who was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Aneka chuckled. “Bisexual and weak.”

“Basically.”

Dewani chewed on her lower lip. “What are the parades like?”

“Honestly, I think you’ll like them,” Ayo said. “There’s a lot of music and dancing. And blacklights. The paint glows under them.”

“It’s basically a giant, city-wide street party, but a thousand times gayer,” Aneka chimed in.

Ayo nodded as she stepped back and handed Dewani a mirror. “You’re done. What do you think?”

Dewani let a tentative smile tug at her lips as she stared at her reflection. “I like it. It looks really good. Thank you.”

M’Baku grinned down at his sister and squeezed her shoulder with his hand. “You look good. Thank you, Commander.”

“Will you be at the parade?” Dewani asked as she stood and tucked herself under her brother’s arm.

“Of course.”

“And… you’re not worried?”

Ayo pulled a vibranium knife out of her pocket and flipped it open to reveal a glinting, six-inch vibranium blade. “Not really.” She winked as she flipped the knife shut and pocketed the weapon. “It’s a safe event. And, since you’re going with the Princess, you’ll be guarded by the Dora.”

Shuri sidled up to Dewani, resplendent in the same face paint and a shirt that read “Gay and Proud.” “See, there are benefits to going out with me.”

Dewani grinned and slung her arm around Shuri’s shoulder. “Oh, trust me, I already knew that.”

Okoye smiled as she watched Dewani and Shuri walked out of the dining room, surrounded by the Dora Milaje. She nudged Ayo’s arm with her elbow. “Thanks.”

“No problem. We have to look out for each other.”

O’Chenga stared after her as Ayo walked out of the dining room, mouth hanging open and an awestruck expression on his face. “Is she single?”

Music blared through speakers that hovered over the crowd. Fireworks burst into the air, in the colors of the Pride flags and the patterns that were painted on thousands upon thousands of faces. People danced together, face paint and smiles glowing under black lights that hovered next to the speakers.

An undeniable energy of excitement and joy hung in the air, filtering through everything and everyone until every last person was swept up in the celebration.

Okoye smiled as she watched Dewani and Shuri dance together, laughing breathlessly as they moved and bounced to the beat of the music.

Off to the side, the two husbands that served on M’Baku’s team of Primes exchanged soft, gentle smiles as they swayed to the music.

In the background, she could see Ayo and O’Chenga talking while sitting at a bar. Okoye smiled when she caught Ayo’s eye, and waved subtly as Ayo lifted her glass.

M’Baku put his hand on her shoulder, jolting her out of her reverie. He smiled as he watched his sister, then nodded as he took in the excited, happy crowd. “I’ll admit it. This is amazing.”

Okoye beamed with pride as she looked out over the throng of people. “This is Wakanda.”

#sass writes #black panther fanfiction #okoye x m'baku #shuri x oc #t'challa x nakia #it's three am right now #am tired #fluff fluff fluff #tw: abuse #tw: homophobia mention #lgbtq #it's here and it's gay!#ayo is amazing #and o'chenga is deeply impressed/aroused #ramonda is the best mom ever #wakanda forever

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worryinglyinnocent · 8 years ago

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Not So Secret, A Monthly Rumbelling Fic

Rated: T

Prompt: “You have a lot of nerve saying ‘hello’ like nothing happened!”

Summary: Belle’s friends are rather put out to find that she’s been dating someone without their knowledge. Belle doesn’t care.

Word Count: 2113

=====

Not So Secret

“You have a lot of nerve saying ‘hello’ like nothing happened!”

Belle blinked at Ruby’s vehement statement. All she had done was come into the diner and sit down in her usual booth, and suddenly she had been accosted by Ruby and Ariel sliding into the booth opposite her and fixing her with somewhat ferocious expressions, to which she had greeted them with a simple ‘hello’. Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say.

“I’m not quite sure what I’ve done to deserve your wrath, but I’m very sorry for whatever it is.”

“We saw you!” Ruby exploded, gesturing wildly towards the door and almost knocking a plate of waffles out of Ashley’s hand as the other waitress brought an order to the next booth.

“You saw me doing what?” Belle asked.

“Gold!” Ariel said. At least Ariel’s face was beginning to look more excited and fascinated than angry, but Ruby still looked as if she wanted to set a pack of wild dogs on her friend. Or perhaps set a pack of wild dogs on Gold. Or maybe both. At least that explained what they had seen her doing. She had assumed that the back of Gold’s shop would have afforded them some measure of privacy.

“I can assure you that I have never done Mr Gold in my life,” Belle said primly. “Our relationship is entirely non-carnal.”

“Yes, for the moment,” Ruby said. “But you can’t tell me that you weren’t thinking about it when you were sucking his face off!”

“Ruby!” Ariel smacked her friend’s arm. “What Ruby is trying to say is that why didn’t you tell us that you were seeing him?”

“Well… It’s kind of a new thing,” Belle said weakly, the force of Ruby’s glare weakening her resolve. “I don’t see why you’re so upset about this. You were the one who told me I needed to get back in the dating game after Gaston.”

“Yes, but not with Gold!” Ruby exclaimed. “I meant with someone, you know, nice. And slightly closer to your own age! What about Will? He’s lovely, and you spend a lot of time with him!”

“He’s also got a girlfriend,” Belle pointed out.

“Keith?”

“He’s tried to grab my ass on at least ten separate occasions.”

“And mine,” Ariel mused. “And yours,” she added to Ruby.

“He’d still be better than Gold!”

Belle raised an eyebrow. “Really? The serial sleaze who’s one grope away from an assault charge at any time is better than the perfectly respectable pawnbroker? You’re not setting the bar for my lovelife very high here, Ruby.”

“Well, you will go and kiss the terror of the town!” Ruby gave a long sigh and her fearsome expression faded. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Belle. You know what he’s like.”

“Yes, I do,” Belle countered. “I know he’s smart, and he makes me smile and laugh, and that there’s an awful lot more to him than you think. And I know that he would never hurt me.” She paused. “Your concern is touching but… worryingly exuberant. I know what I’m doing, Ruby. I know who he is. You’ve got to trust me on this. He’s a good man, beneath what the rest of the town sees.”

Ruby frowned. “The last time I trusted you with your own dating experiences you ended up with Gaston.”

“It sounds like you’re blaming my lack of judgment for the fact he turned out to be a cheating bastard,” Belle said coolly.

“I don’t mean it like that!”

“Then trust me on Gold!”

Her voice had become a little louder than she had realised, and she noticed that the entire diner was now looking at her with morbid fascination.

“Ok, ok, nothing to see here,” Ruby said, entirely unconvincingly, waving the other patrons back to their meals. Although there were no longer several pairs of eyes fixed on her, one could still have heard a pin drop. Ruby rolled her eyes and leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper.

“All right. I’ll trust you on Gold. But the minute you need me, just say the word and I’ll lock him in the freezer until he begs for mercy.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Ruby.”

“Nevertheless, the offer will remain open.”

“Ruby, do you maybe understand now why I didn’t tell you, since I knew that this was the reaction you were going to have?”

Ruby considered this point for a moment and narrowed her eyes, but refused to concede it, saying that her break was over and getting up from the booth to go back to her shift. As soon as Ruby had left, Ariel shuffled up on the seat so that she was directly opposite Belle and broke into a grin.

“So, tell me everything!”

“There’s nothing to tell, Ariel.”

“Oh come on! You can’t just drop the bombshell on us that you’re dating Gold and then not divulge any of the details. How long has this been going on? How did it start? When are you seeing him again?” She dropped her voice to a dramatic whisper. “Is he a good kisser?”

“Ariel, two minutes ago you were furious that I was seeing the guy and now you want all the juicy gossip?”

“No, Ruby was furious that you were seeing him. I was furious that you hadn’t told me you were seeing him because that meant I was missing out on all the juicy gossip.” She steepled her fingers and leaned in close. “So… spill.”

Belle shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell. We’re dating, that’s all.”

“What do you mean nothing to tell! He’s the most inscrutable and mysterious man in town! I knew you were sort of friends with him but there’s a big difference between polite conversation and what you were doing! And you’re now intimately acquainted with the back room of his shop where no-one ever goes!”

Once again, the entire diner looked over at the booth, and Belle groaned, resting her head against the table to avoid the stares from the other patrons.

“Oh, that wasn’t a euphemism,” Ariel called to the diner. “I just mean she’s seen the back room. Not like, done things in it. Although you were kissing him in it and…”

“Ariel…” Belle said without removing her forehead from the formica, “just stop.”

“Ok. But you’ve got to give me some more information to work with here, Belle. You don’t just go from not dating a guy to dating a guy - and a guy like Gold to boot - without there being a story to tell behind it. You didn’t just wake up one day and say ‘right, me and Mr Gold are dating now’.”

“Would it shut you up if I said that was what had happened?” Belle finally sat up again and gave Ariel a pleading look. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gold enter the diner, right on time for the date that they had set up, and she smiled. Gold met her eyes and returned the expression, but the soft smile turned into something of a smirk when he saw that Ariel was sitting Belle, her back to him, and he began to make his way towards the two women.

“Of course not!” Ariel said, oblivious to Gold coming up behind her. “I need to know everything! Nobody knows anything about him and these things are important!”

“Mr Gold’s kissing ability is important?”

“Yes! Is he the kind who goes in kind of softly and slowly or does he just, you know, go for it.” She paused. “You know what they say about guys with noses like his though,” she added with a conspiratorial wink.

“Really, Miss Del Mar? What do they say about guys with noses like mine?”

Ariel’s face paled as she turned around comically slowly to see Gold standing behind her, then whirled back round to Belle. “You could have told me he was standing right there!”

“I could have done, but the look on your face was priceless.”

Ariel’s eyes narrowed and she glanced from Belle to Gold and back again.

“You know, I’m beginning to think he might be a bad influence on you after all,” she muttered, sliding out of the booth to let Gold sit down. Over behind the counter, Ruby scowled at them, waving a pair of tongs threateningly in Gold’s direction.

He simply raised an eyebrow at her and returned his attention to Belle. “May I ask what that was about?”

“Ruby and Ariel saw us in the pawn shop yesterday,” Belle said, cringing internally a little. “Ruby’s offered to lock you in the freezer and Ariel wanted all the details.”

“I see.” Gold seemed to consider this for a moment before shrugging. “Well, I suppose that those are the reactions I would expect when our status became public,” he said. “We’ve certainly garnered the attention of everyone else in the diner.

True enough, all of the other patrons were still staring at them.

“Actually I think that’s more to do with Ariel and my discussion before you arrived.” Belle looked a little sheepish. “She was trying to convince everyone that she had not been talking about me and you getting up to no good in the back of the shop and just ended up digging herself into a hole in the process. Everyone probably thinks that we’re practicing all kinds of strange kinks in there. I’m so sorry.”

Gold just gave a snort of amused laughter. “Don’t worry about it. I think if we’re going to continue this then we’re going to have to get used to the incredulity of the town.”

“Yes.” It wasn’t a thought that Belle was particularly looking forward to, but she knew that she needed to get used to it and that people’s opinions of Gold, like Ruby’s, would not change overnight. She had known that when she had first made the decision to act upon her feelings towards him, and how she couldn’t regret it. She had Gold after all, and that made up for all of the strange looks that she might have got. Their friendship had always been dear to her, even if none of the other townsfolk seemed to have noticed it until Ariel and Ruby’s untimely eavesdropping. That she had taken that first step towards being more than friends still amazed her, and that Gold had returned her attraction even more so. He had been so supportive in the wake of her break-up from Gaston, and in time, that had developed into something more.

“What can I get you two then?” Ruby asked, coming over with notepad in hand and her brightest smile, obviously trying not to embarrass Belle by being rude to her date in front of her.

Belle gave her order and Ruby turned to Gold.

“My usual please, Miss Lucas. And I’ll take extra ice in the ice tea.”

Ruby’s expression dropped into a scowl for a moment before she beamed at him and made her way back to the counter.

“She’s probably going to ‘accidentally’ drop that ice tea in your lap, you know,” Belle said.

“It’s a risk I was perfectly willing to take to see the look on her face,” Gold replied, his voice utterly benign but his expression devilish. He walked a fine line sometimes in the way he acted, but Belle knew that when it came to her friends he would never push his luck, even if Ruby was being particularly trying. He looked around at the diner, and the other customers quickly turned back to their own plates and tried to look like they were not hanging on every word that was said.

“Shall we give them something to talk about, since they’re so determined to catch some gossip?” Gold asked.

Belle smiled and nodded. Since their relationship had ended up going public anyway, they might as well make the most of it. She got up and moved to sit on the same side of the booth as Gold, he slid further in to make room for her and she settled herself primly beside him before grabbing his tie and pulling him in for a deep kiss. He seemed a little surprised by her sudden passion, but relaxed into the kiss quickly, his arms coming around her back to pull her in closer.

Around them, Belle could hear the diner going quiet again, and the smash and clatter of two glasses of ice tea ending up on the floor as Ruby dropped them.

Belle just smiled to herself as she finally let Gold come up for air. Let them stare.

#rumbelle fic #A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle #Fic: Not So Secret

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politicalmamaduck · 8 years ago

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Ring in the Reylo 2017

Please leave kudos and comments for all of these hard working writers!

Fics under 100 hits and kudos:

Tall Tales of the Western Wilds by Anonymous for Vivien They say there’s three sides to every story: his side, her side, and the truth. No matter which you choose to believe, Ragin’ Rey Kenobi was the greatest bounty hunter there ever was.

Bound in the Balance by Anonymous for TheBridgeIntoYourMind He sees her struggles. He feels her frustrations. He senses her presence in the Force, a sensation that echoes his own. He feels compelled to help her, to tell her the truth about herself and himself. How much he ends up telling her, he didn’t expect.

Take my hand by Anonymous for tyrantsandcreampuffs

Fics under 100 kudos:

Convergence by Anonymous for Elywyngirlie Whatever the next steps are, I want to take them with you.

the hint of hope that is you by Anonymous for ReyloTrashCompactor (NextToSomething) Rey, Poe, Finn, and the rest of the staff at Recto et Verso Books are gearing up for the holiday season when a surprise mass shipment throws them off balance. Selling 742 copies of anything would be a challenge for a store their size. Selling 742 copies of pretentious, free form, emo poetry by some asshole named “Kylo Ren” is next to impossible…or so they think.

The Wheels Keep Right on Rolling by Anonymous for Hamliet Ben Solo is brilliant and handsome. He is also insufferably arrogant, a flagrant womanizer, and a total ass. On certain days, they get along as well as oil and water. On others, it’s more like ammonium nitrate and TNT. Which is why the prospect of spending the next 48-hours cooped up in a car–on a road trip with the man–has left Rey feeling a bit out of sorts….

desperado (where you gonna run to) by Anonymous for La_Catrina ‘It is my personal opinion that we cannot take Snoke down without you. Sorry excuse of a man that you are at the moment.’ Rey’s eyes skimmed him up and down as though searching for something, and coming up wanting.Kylo could not fault her for that. He’d failed at being a good man a long time ago, and a bad man more recently. He was adrift between two worlds, belonging in neither.

Gideon’s Sacrifice by Anonymous for Ceallaigh Since the loss of Rey, Kylo Ren’s pursuit of these new enemies has been relentless. Planets of no consequence, like Serpindal and Belkadan have gone completely dark from technology - there were no electronic subspace transmissions. Later his Knights of Ren discovered the planets were destroyed by space anomalies, such as the moon crashing into Serpindal, and an overgrowth of insects on Belkadan. His daughter has been left in the care of his mother, Leia. However, in this last visit, New Republic Forces have chosen to arrest him and try him for his crimes against the galaxy from the last war. The war the First Order lost to the Resistance. He was tried by grand jury of the New Republic and convicted of various crimes. His sentence was to be placed in Carbonite stasis by a new protocol that would cause him to be devoid of the Force. Leia refuses to let Kylo Ren surrender to them. Kylo Ren has other plans.

Love makes the galaxy go round by Anonymous for bittersnake Their masters make a secret arrangement behind their backs.

Family issues by Anonymous for Artemis1000 Rey tries to understand her feelings for a redeemed Ben Solo while his mother and uncle treat her like the hope for a better galaxy. It’s not easy when you have to be a jedi, a friend, a warrior and a lover.

In Balance by Anonymous for Fangirltrashbaby Kylo Ren arrives on Ahch-Too with some surprising news. Rey is hesitant at first but when Luke strands them on the planet she has to learn to get along with him.

soon I know you’ll see (you’re just like me) by Anonymous for KyloWren She crooks a finger. He kneels.

climb so fast to fall by Anonymous for LueurdeLaube Kylo Ren arrived at (crashed into) the Resistance base and fell in front of the general, broken and bleeding. No one was very happy about this development, least of all Rey.

i’m always in this twilight (in the shadow of your heart) by Anonymous for jitterygummy Coded on a secondhand datapad in a run-down motel room in Mos Eisley, deleted and never sent: Everything about us was a whirlwind.Written on a scrap of durasheet in a Tion Cluster outpost, the words fading after a while into air and ghosts: You shouldn’t have forgiven me for any of it.Scraped into the bark of an oak tree on the Argazdan homeworld: You won’t believe the dreams I have about you.

Two Comets Lost, Following the Trails of Stars Unknown by Anonymous for Karla_shadow He calls out to her as if through the Force, a pull that repels and attracts her in equal measure. He draws nearer to her as if he can’t help but follow that strange call. She backs away.“You can’t fight destiny.”

Exigence in Force Majeure by Anonymous for MostTulip This war has raged for ages and most of the leaders at its helm are long gone. It’s left to Kylo Ren, and Rey, his constant opposing force, whose minds have seeped so far into each other as to make planning in secret impossible, to come to some accord or else watch the galaxy burn in their futile efforts at mutual destruction.

Muscle Memory by Anonymous for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily) The war may be over, but Rey is still encountering Kylo Ren far too frequently for her peace of mind.

The Force Works in Mysterious Ways by Anonymous for agirlfromniima Sometimes you just know what you need to do.

Jazz Night at the Jakku Philharmonic by Anonymous for SaintHeretical Rey expects nothing good when the Jakku Philharmonic plays an outdoor gig with weird and reclusive jazz legend Snoke. As for his backing band, they’re something else. Kylo styles himself as “the loudest trumpet player in the universe”, and his mic stand is right behind Rey’s chair in the woodwind section.

This Darkness Which You Know You Cannot Fight by Anonymous for OccasionallyCreative Rey gives in to her anger. It has been a long time coming.

Fight Like Me by Anonymous for SWAG_77 After mysteriously crashing on a moon, Rey and Kylo Ren find themselves Forced to fight together.

Quiet Words by Anonymous for RacheyMayBe She wants to take his heart in her hand and dare it to beat when its fickleness is the reason Han’s never will again.(She doesn’t know yet that this fury doesn’t wholly belong to her.)

One Thousand and One Nights by Anonymous for TehanuFromEarthsea Really, Rey ought to kill him. But instead she found herself fascinated by him

Trapped by Anonymous for PalenDrome (nerdherderette) Rey and Kylo get trapped on a shuttle in the middle of deep space. Inspired by ChroniclyFlaming’s “Revanche"

Between Daydreams and Nightmares by Anonymous for BeMyDarkling “Bring the girl to me.” Kylo begins to train Rey after her abduction; however, as he attempts to draw out the Dark Side in her, she ignites the Light in him.

Ex Nihilo Nihil Fit by Anonymous for SouthSideStory A diplomatic mission to Fest goes differently than expected.

Shadowed by Anonymous for Limra The war is over. It has been for years. A damaged Kylo is forced to face his fears when Rey tells him that she wants children, believing that the sins of the father would be passed on to the children – his children… much like the sins of Darth Vader ruined the reputation of his mother, then-Senator Leia Organa.Rey? Well. Rey thinks that it’s about time that Kylo faces what people really think about her husband.

A Ghtroc 690, Fully Restored by Anonymous for Chthonia This is the Force, Rey knows, trying to draw her to Kylo Ren, but she doesn’t care about whatever greater purpose a higher power has in store for them. She hates this man, and she despises any connection they have, no matter how divine its origin. (Or: the Force ruins Rey’s first vacation.)

Solace for the Damned by Anonymous for incognitajones Christmas Eve, and a lone priest of a tiny, isolated parish works feverishly in the snow until an old friend drops by. She misses him- what will it take to lure him away? When will he stop hiding behind the cloth?

The Planet of Fates by Anonymous for Juulna Simple scavenger Rey was almost ready to find Luke, to bring peace to the galaxy once again, until a mysterious force pulled her into the dreaded Kylo Ren’s path. Though this may be a trap, something bigger seems to be playing out for the two adversaries. And it won’t be like anything they’ve faced before…

Anchorite by Anonymous for momo_official It was right, Rey thought, that he had to bend so low to speak to her. Men like Kylo Ren were made to kneel.

the one thing you leave behind (is how did you love) by Anonymous for diasterisms Kylo’s orders are to turn Rey to the Dark Side. His personal feelings may prevent him from doing so.

Clandestine by Anonymous for kuresoto She should have just done her job as a Jedi, should have remained detached yet polite, should have guarded Senator Ben Organa, and should not have jumped into bed with him.

Opposition in Vain by Anonymous for solikerez Rey is a factory girl living off of meager pay and the hope that her parents will return. She’s given a new chance at happiness when the parson Luke Skywalker (a former student of her grandfather’s) adopts her. Years later, the Skywalker-Solo merchant business is facing financial ruin. In order to save her found family, she enters into marriage with the prodigal Ben Solo, who became wealthy through betrayal. But there may be more to this arrangement than what meets the eye…

That One Time Rey Got Drunk by Anonymous for dungeoncrawler Rey is drunk, Kylo is impulsive, and neither of them can admit their feelings. They can, however, express them through physical intimacy.

The Five Times We Met At The Train Station And The One Time We Did Not by Anonymous for the-reylo-void (Anysia) Exactly what it says on the tin(or the five times rey assaulted ben in some way lmfao)

Clockwork by Anonymous for Vickyshipsreylo He is young, and there are two things he fears above everything else: death, and clockwork.

Stay by Anonymous for Thelittlescrimshaw Prompt fill for Ring In the Reylo New Year’s gift exchange.

Sins of the Father by Anonymous for Hormonal_Trashbag Unable to outrun the sins of his past, Ben Solo is faced with a ghost from that life that threatens his chance to finally find a peace he has sought his entire life.

The Fickle Finger of Fate by Anonymous for OfHealingLove She should not be afraid of him. She does not understand. She will. He will make her.

such language holds the solemn sea (to sands upon the shore) by Anonymous for cassanah They only ever met in large cities where they could blend into anonymity. This time they were in a city called Tvell’ia on a bustling trade world in the Outer Rim. Kylo came here once when he was not Kylo Ren. He remembered how the luminescent algae in the ocean glowed in the darkness of the night here, and he wanted Rey to see it.

let the silver arrow fly by Anonymous for LarirenShadow Leia plays cupid, and fires a few misshots before getting it right.

Retrouvailles by Anonymous for NatMatryoshka : The joy or happiness of reuniting with someone after a long separation.Prompt from NatMatryoshka: “Padawan Rey and Senator Ben Organa Solo: Rey and her master Luke escort young Senator Ben Organa for a noisy party in Coruscant. What will happen?”

The most beautiful souls by Anonymous for dustoftheancients (The_Hollow_Bones) Rey is a Jedi, trained by Luke Skywalker, granddaughter of Obi-Wan Kenobi, another famous Jedi master. Kylo Ren has moved his first steps as a Sith: he’s sure of himself, stubborn. They have felt in love too soon.[Jedi/Sith AU]

Heart Craters, Filled With Light by Anonymous for KagamiSorciere Rey has never been able to celebrate Christmas before. Kylo can’t help but become a little invested.

His Desire by Anonymous for Ghostsdontdie Kylo Ren’s hopes and dreams are fulfilled with a marriage to Rey, but he remains uncertain and unsatisfied.“Which of us is happy in this world? Which of us has his desire? or, having it, is satisfied?” ― William Makepeace Thackeray, “Vanity Fair”

The Word of Skill by Anonymous for onstraysod When Kylo Ren kidnaps Rey from Ahch-to, he expects her to be a worthy rival and a pupil. He’s already seen enough to know she’s a girl who can match him in wits and in Force power. But it’s the other things Rey learned during her years of neglect on Jakku that will make all the difference; not only to Kylo but to the other inhabitants of the Finalizer, and perhaps the Galaxy itself.

Love makes the galaxy go round by Anonymous for bittersnake Their masters make a secret arrangement behind their backs.

Fugue by Anonymous for Queronea Kylo and Rey keep their marriage in secret during the war, but in the final fight with Snoke, Kylo gets hit in his head and loses all his memories of Kylo Ren. Now he’s Ben Solo, balancing work in the Resistance base, his Jedi training with Luke, the disappearance of his father, and the constant fights with Rey, the only person in the base he cannot seem to get along with.

A wig and glasses isn’t enough by Anonymous for TheJGatsby Rey meets a celebrity in disguise, and things only get crazier from there…

Just a Dream by Anonymous for kmanion At night, desperate to sleep, Rey imagines an island.

we must be killers (children of the wild ones) by Anonymous for personalphilosophie He chuckles. He can’t help it. “You have to stop terrorizing the merchants, my love.”“I’m ‘your love’ now, am I? You were calling me ‘little idiot’ a few days ago—”“Who,” he snaps, “in their right mind would just drop down into the middle of a pack of Sith hounds?”“Element of surprise?” she offers. “Anyway, they were only Sith hounds.“There is refuge even here, in their little games. He can’t remember precisely when it started. It crept up on him like salvation, like forgiveness, like dawn seeping through.

Home Is… by Anonymous for Sydney508 “Building a life together” is more than just a phrase. For Kylo and Rey, it literally starts with building a home, one little step at a time (but please don’t let them play with electricity anymore.)

#reylo #ring in the reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #reylo fanfic #reylo exchange #fan fiction #my moodboards

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bluebubblewater · 8 years ago

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Sorry for the long post. :)

This is a breakdown of a post I saw and this is my response to it, issue by issue.

“Okay, it’s time to rant. I am really starting to get fed up with this whole “Women’s rights” thing. What the heck is wrong with women these days?”

Women’s rights is not a “thing” it is a movement for equality between men and women of all ages, ethnicity, belief systems, sexuality, position in society, place of origin, and political beliefs. A movement that has existed for more than 100 years, promoting the rights of all humans beings based on the fact that we are ALL human and not some sub-category that is somehow worth less than another. It is a powerful movement that has enabled women to: vote, own property, choose a spouse, choose to have kids, divorce her spouse, drive, go to school, go to college, press charges against rapists and harassers (both of men and women), work in places of power, effect change, and so much more, the main thing is it has been from this movement that we as women can CHOOSE. What is wrong with women indeed, there are enough struggles we have to face without other women adding to them because of being uninformed.

“Let me get this straight, Trump was voted president, and this ruins your life how? What has he ever done to you?”

The fact that we now have President Trump in office for the next 4 years doesn’t “ruin” our lives but it does have the potential to make them harder and to jeopardize some of our human rights that he thinks we shouldn’t have. In my humble and fairly educated, and constantly evolving, opinion, no one should be able to place a law on what I want to do to MY body, ever. Especially not a bunch of rich, old, white, MEN. My body my choice, would I personally ever choose to have an abortion? Probably not, but I want that choice, because until it has at least a small chance of living outside of my body it is not its own person and is simply part of my body.

“Sure, maybe he insulted women once, but you know what? IT’S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD! “

Our President Trump has insulted women more than just “once” and on more than a “few” occasions. Quite frankly he doesn't seem to see what is wrong with doing so, but thinks/says that it is all in good fun. Here’s a couple quotes that I was told when I was a kid and stuck with me “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all” and “If the person the joke involves isn’t laughing, it isn’t funny”. I don’t find insults to women or anyone really as funny, I find them rude and a good portrait of the person saying it.

“And frankly all women who take THAT much offence to a few insults deserves to be insulted”

“Deserves to be insulted”? Really so if I call some a “bigoted, fascist, egotistical, emotional infant, bitchy bastard of a SOB, mother f*cker” then they have no right to be upset because if they are then they deserve it. Right? Think about that for a bit.

“I am a woman but I don’t care that Trump is president, and Trump has three daughter and a wife, do you see them taking any offence? No!”

I am a woman too, and to be entirely honest I thought we were going to be screwed with whoever became president because none of them were fully a “good” choice. Fact check he has two daughters named Ivanka and Tiffany and has had three wives. And how do you know that they don’t take offense? People around me who don’t know me can’t tell when I take offense unless I either let it show or tell them. Just because they are supporting their father and husband in public does not mean they agree with him in private. Don’t make assumptions, they make you look like an ass.

“Besides, it’s not like Trump is taking away all of our rights, when did he ever say he was going to do that?”

He is cutting funding to Planned Parenthood, which is not just an organization that does abortion. It is an organization that provides information about: Abortion(what it entails and other options), birth control, contraceptives, the importance of body image, general health care that includes testing, screening, vaccines, and exams, etc., men’s sexual health, pregnancy, relationships, sex, sexuality, sexual orientation, gender, STDs and women’s health. All of this important information and services and President Trump is cutting the funding for it. He is trying to overturn the Supreme Court ruling in the Roe v. Wade case where it was decided that women’s right to privacy and therefore abortion is protected under the 14th amendment as long as the abortion happens before the “fetus is viable” meaning it can survive being born. It is a human right and I will fight to protect it. But you have a point he didn’t say he was going to take”away all of our rights” but it starts small and as the saying goes “give an inch they’ll take a mile”.

“So can you guys stop freaking out over EVERYTHING?”

We aren’t freaking out about anything. We are legally voicing our objection to the wrongs committed against us as human beings. We are legally voicing our objection to the proposed laws and ideals that infringe on our human rights.

“And stop with the women’s marches! What exactly do ya’ll think that’s going to do? Get Trump thrown out of office? Nope.”

The point of the women’s march was not about President Trump. It was about equality for everyone and the opportunity for people who support different issues within the realm of equality and human rights to come out and support each other under the banner of Women’s Rights. The march was about standing together and knowing that we are not alone. It was about supporting each other across the world as one people not as sub-people groups. Some people used it as a platform to tell/show the world that we will not allow anyone to oppress us again and to not even try it. Some people used to the platform to oppose President Trump, his beliefs, and plans. Some people used it as a platform to encourage people in countries across the world to fight for their freedom and equality. Some people used it as a platform for pro-choice. Some people used it as a platform for workplace equality and equal pay. It was NOT about Trump, me or you, it is about equality for everyone. Period.

“All it does is prove his point about women and annoy all of the other billion of people who disagree with you!”

I’m sorry how does 3.6-4.6 million people across the globe marching together for equal rights prove his point? Explain it to me. How do you hear about that many people across the world marching together unified in their stance of equality, and think something negative about that?

“(Oh, and btw after you guys did your little march thank you SO MUCH for leaving all of your signs strewn about the streets! I’m sure that there were many female sanitation workers that had to stay out late last night cleaning up after you geniuses ^_^)”

Yes because you know other marches and protests for other issues NEVER leave signs on the road. And yeah there were people who had to pick the stuff up just like they would if there was a parade and they got paid for it. As long as the men and women doing the same job get the same pay, I don’t see an issue.

“Oh, and to be honest, I have no idea what the hell you guys are even marching for!”

Well that has been quite obvious. Maybe look up what you bash before you bash it next time.

“Women’s right?”

Human Rights and Equality.

“God gave us breasts and a uterus so that we could stay home and raise a family while the men worked to provide for us.”

Well if that was the only reason we exist then why are there women and men who physically can’t have children? And don’t give me the “atoning for their sins” crap if that was how it works a whole lot less people could have kids. And news flash! Women have taken an active part in building societies and settlements since the beginning of time. I come from a home where my biological father physically and emotionally abused me, my mom, and my three siblings. He couldn’t keep a job and would quit whenever he felt like it, moving my entire family literally across the nation in his quest of finding a job he would keep. Six states, countless jobs and escalation of physical abuse happened before my mom finally filed for divorce. and he said to my 14yo sisters face that he didn’t want anything to do with us kids. He paid parts of child support for about 2-3 years before he dropped off the map to avoid paying for almost 8 years. He only began paying after he was found and taken to court. So forgive me if I think that “men=provider” and “women=supporter” is fucking bullshit. I was given breasts and a uterus so that I could have sex with the ability to have children if I so choose to. I was given a brain to use to its fullest. I want a career and I don’t really want kids of my own, that may change as I get older but then it will still be MY choice. I will be a provider for myself and anyone else who I decide to bring under my care.

“But now we have the right to vote, to work, run companies and even run for president!”

You say that women have the right to vote, work, run companies and run for public offices as if they were some kind of gifts that we were given. Women and men fought for those rights, human rights that should have been acknowledged in the first place.

“So what more do you want?”

I want to walk alone at night in the city and not have to worry about cat calls and rude gestures from the men I walk by possible evolving into sexual assault because they “think” I am encouraging them by ignoring them. I want the rape culture we have in our Great American Society to change so that we are teaching our boys and men that it is not ok to continue advancing when you have been ignored or told “no” or “go to hell” or “leave me alone”. Instead of teaching our girls to not dress “sexily” or “revealing”. I want my saying “no” to have more weight than me saying “I have a boyfriend” when turning someone down. I want equal pay for equal work. I want equality. Simple.

“Did you know that in Pakistan and certain places of the Soviet Union women are still used as slaves!”

I did know that actually and that is another issue that the women’s march addressed. We want to end inequality everywhere, that does not mean that we make things less equal here so that people don’t feel so bad about the inequality elsewhere. If anything we should continue to push for full equality here in the United States of America so that we can be an example of an equality to the world.

“And that around the world there are women being sold as prostitutes?”

Once again, yes I did know that and yes it is horrible and should be abolished throughout the world. So why do you try and use the women who have it worse off than us, women in America, to put us down, to try and make us submit to men like they are forced to? I will never submit my will to anyone, it is my own as is my body and mind. I will fight for mine and every woman and man’s right to choose what they do with their own body and mind.

“But “Oh no a big bad man told is we’re not allowed to murder our unborn children now we must rebel…”

What the? First why is a man trying to tell me what to do with my body? Second it isn’t alive until it can survive on its own outside of the women’s body, therefore I can’t murder it. If we were going to rebel this would be a small point on the vast canvas of grievances.

“Here’s some advice: Either get over it, or get out of this country.”

Um no, we are in America I can say and believe anything I want to because that is my right, a protected right, as a human being. How about you accept that your opinion is just that an opinion not a fact or law.

“And to be clear, no, I don’t think that Trump is going to be the greatest president there ever was,”

Well looky there we agree on something.

“and did he have to say those things about women? That’s debateable.”

Nope not debatable, no one “has to” say mean things to or about anyone ever. Period.

“But I have faith in him to lead our country right because while nobody is perfect, it’s clear that the good he can do for us outweighs his bad tenfold.”

You’re right no one is perfect and I hope with my whole heart that he will prove me wrong and does more good than bad for this country and the people living in it. I do not think that his “good” plans outweigh the negatives he has said and plans to do, but I don’t compare them as a balance but simply pros and cons.

“And that is all I have to say. And for all of you who disagree with this post feel free to hate me and insult me. I don’t care because I’m not going to take offence…. Thank you.”

I think I am also done. I am glad you won’t take offense to me disagreeing with you but please don’t feel as if I am hating on you or your post, I simply have a very different opinion than you do.

Also, offense is spelt with an -s-.... Maybe while you are checking your facts, check your spelling too.

#feminism #feminist #social equality #equalist #womensmarch

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truthfultime-blog · 8 years ago

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Die Antwoord : Mount Ninji and da Nice Time Kid

Incestuous, drug infused and perverted – what more could you want from an album? Besides catchy beats and somewhat interesting structures, nothing says ‘pay attention to me’ than getting a six year old to rap about ‘boobies’ and his penis, right? No? Oh sorry, I thought we were here to talk about gaining publicity and shocking people and not creating decent music. Yolandi and Ninja (yes, he thinks calling himself Ninja is cool) are at it again with another well anticipated album. Proclaiming to end the project of Die Antwoord once album number five appears (I have the cake and party poppers ready for that day), the following of this group keeps on growing globally, shocking thousands of real music fanatics on a regular basis. Released September 16th, 2016, Mount Ninji and da Nice Time Kid is the fourth and penultimate album from the overly scary South African duo, and it certainly isn’t lacking in creativity – no matter how you want to label it.

As diverse, and as some would say, expressive, the album explores various themes of childhood and growing up, whilst also mocking those who comment on the group’s creativity and style with lyrics like They said I’d never make it and If you don’t like it, fuck off and die being thrown around so matter-of-factly, you know this group are confident in their music and style, whether or not you like them, or their music. The group have gained a cult like following from their fans, and with the producer referring to himself as GOD, and even appearing on numerous tracks throughout the album, the insanity begins to fall into place as their crowd of followers rush to watch the next haunting, repulsively ‘seductive’ video that the group has to offer unto the world.

The listener is taken on a journey of produced sounds, and after what you think is an opening skit turns into a 3 minute parody, the rollercoaster really begins. The operatic nature of first track We have Candy gives the impression that these guys don’t take themselves too seriously, it must be a joke with the amusing opening to the album, and you gain the attitude that if they don’t take themselves seriously, why should we? The lyrics are stupid and pathetic, but if they’re having fun, then so is the listener. Embrace the harrowing beats and rap style, and you’re sure to be welcomed into what sounds like a circus inspired, unhinged, album. But then as the record progresses, the lyrics don’t get any more intricate or specialised, but appear to be getting more trashy and tacky, much like the musical aspects of rhythm and technology. The 90s rave music shocks the listener into a stunned silence, and with track Rats Rule, it is as though it is speaking to the listener to say, ‘laugh at us, not with us’ – which surely defeats any point this album may have had. This song features artist Jack Black performing in a very dramatic and operatic manner, which “provides a Halloween novelty song” says ConsequenceOfSound writer, Dan Caffrey, which ultimately reminds the listener that yes, this is an album where anything can happen. Be it a good surprise or a disturbing one, the album ‘assaults your sense of reality’, much like it assaults the notion of vulnerability and innocence about women and children, but hey, as long as it gives me an out of body experience and keeps me on my toes, we’ll ignore that additional factor, right?

Known for their different approach to music making and style of music that they create, I was prepared for the unusual and the abnormal, but being described as a ‘horrorshow’ by Kate Hutcheonson from TheGuardian, you register that this opinion and viewpoint is a fairly normal response from those who are not intoxicated when listening to this music. You gain the feeling that you’re at a bazaar festival, where weird and obscurity is the norm and you are being entertained in a three ringed circus before you tumble down head first, into a trance that is surrounded by madness. The musical elements of Mount Ninji are constantly shifting, that the idea to place the album into a specific genre seems pointless and rather a difficult task. For when you think you are listening to a Bohemian Rhapsody influenced song, we are suddenly hit with trap music, then techno and house, even disco at one point! The confusion this causes the listener is altogether rather manic, as you can never get too involved within a song (not like you’d want to, anyway) but when it begins to have a structure and a sense of direction and you think you know where you are going, it veers far off course and forces you to latch on to the nearest object, for you have no idea what disaster you are about to encounter.

Alongside this you have some “tongue-and-cheek humour” which apparently excuses a group to have a child involved in such an audacious project, according to Lydia Shu of ‘Nouse’ anyway. This comment seems to be an excuse for childish and inappropriate behaviour – much like the saying ‘boys will be boys’ – untrue and a lie society has created to allow people to do inappropriate things. This exclaim of ‘humour’ seems relatively unsteady and tasteless when a child is involved. Wings on My Penis and U Like Boobies? are extremely disturbing songs in the way that they are presented, what is being said and who is saying it, all adding to a deranged couple of minutes in the middle of Mount Ninji. The six year old boy appears on two short tracks and goes by the stage name Lil Tommy Terror. Yes, that is correct. A group of grown adults created music – term used lightly – with a child about tits, ass and using racial slurs that are extremely offensive and degrading, all in the name of creative freedom.

The ways these tracks are presented on the album create a concern, that a worry begins to grow inside the head of the listener on how perverted this group really is, and it’s even a bigger worry how easily this has been allowed to go global without being questioned. Perhaps I am looking at this too politically and should forgive this heinous act in the name of art, but one cannot help feel slightly ill when hearing a toddler say fuck this shit and Penises are cool, when having a conversation with an adult. It publicises toxic relationships and fantasies that shouldn’t be welcomed with open arms, yet the media and cult following love it...or at least, aren’t speaking up about the sinister nature of it, which is just as bad. Shu continues to say that this album is interesting in growth “in both music and sound”, but I’m afraid to say however, that if discussing fantasies about fucking your daughter is growth, I fear there may be some deeper issues to unveil in regards to what’s going on inside the head of a madman.

Whilst on the theme of paedophilia – because this is an actual thing that the fans seem to be ignoring or even worse, embracing – the track Daddy appeals to “salacious father-daughter sex fantasies” that makes you cringe and wince, making you wonder what was the inspiration for this ‘resisting the urge to throw up’ song? As Saby Reyes-Kulkarni of Pitchfork writes, “It’s hard to say if it means something transgressive – or if it means anything at all – but by this point, it’s getting less and less credible to give Die Antwoord the benefit of the doubt”. So with the rape infused lyrics where’s your ID...Shut the fuck up, be a good girl and do what daddy say repeating for 4 minutes, you find yourself stunned at the heinous attitude of these so called musicians, yet you find yourself never tuning out or becoming disinterested. The beats are still there and catchy. It’s happy and pop infused yet the theme is so vile you’re not too sure how to feel about both the group and yourself once you have completed the album.

This is a similar concept to Banana Brain, a song that has a catchy and uplifting chorus but uses incredibly trashy and heartless lyrics – a hit for the fans, not for the overall musicians. With songs like this being created by Ninja and Yolandi, you begin to believe that the album and music is for dancing and raving to, that the lyrics are there simply to fill up space and we shouldn’t really be listening to them, they exist to make a catchy chorus. But then you experience a downbeat song with just as dull and anti-climactic lyrics that make you consider the possibility ‘Do Die Antwoord actually think they are good, or are they as delusional as we think they are?’ This attitude is shared, as Pitchfork says the duo haven’t become the “legit hip-hop they believe they’ve become”, but the way they sound on the record with lyrics like too dope to cope and too lit to quit I can’t fathom how they could possibly believe they are a successful group in the world of music. Reyes-Kulkarni continues “the album is too immature to make a lasting dent on the face of hip-hop” as it feels they are just trying to put everything into one album, it’s as though they have single child syndrome and never heard the word no before. This is too true for their lyrics as well: such lines as boobie one, boobie two and tracksuit on, itchy and scratchy makes you wonder if Ninja believes he has a shot at winning the Nobel Peace Prize for literature! Even though the shock value of certain tracks engage you and at it has an ability to not let your brain fall asleep, the album itself does not leave a long lasting effect once it has ended. It is a short lived shock that soon wears off as you progress through the album, and once you get over the pandemonium that is Mount Ninji you continue with your everyday activities, forgetting the atrocious sounds you have just heard.

These once, massive surprises, become less surprising as the album progresses, and it begins to lose momentum and power, which results in the listener realising that this is trashy white people music. Your brain becomes used to the mania, so with tracks such as Shit Just Got Real and Stoopid Rich, there is a feeling of the group losing their original focus point and original aims towards the album, whatever those aims might have been, these tracks seem a little bit out of place, ironic but true. The second half of the album “simply plods along in a downtempo void that barely raises a voice” says Reyes-Kulkarni, which culminates the response of ‘Are we finished yet?’ and as you glance back at the album you realise there are in fact 16 tracks, and you don’t understand how you have survived such shrill outcry from Yolandi, and really terrible rapping from Ninja, without breaking down into a seizure.

When the Mount Ninji begins to come to a close, it becomes traditionally musical with the song Darkling. The inclusion of guitar and piano introduction to the song gives the listener tranquillity, and even though we look forward to the end of this journey, there’s still an appreciation for the song and the lyrics. Yolandi sings quite peacefully and respectfully on this track, that possibly if she did her own album it could be something great and appreciated for being genuinely good and decent, rather than succumbing to hip-hops stereotypical views on women. I Don’t Care rounds the album off finely, by attempting to do something different than what we have heard previously on our quest for sanity. It comes across as a somewhat caring song and the duo sing together as though they are beginning to fall asleep after a hard day of making this turbulent album. The song features GOD, who brings the slight disco vibe back in a “crescendo of a late 90’s ecstasy trip” but the track is also that of a lovesong “something that Die Antwoord have rarely – if ever – attempted before” says Caffrey. You begin to expect something crazy to happen in this final song: When will the high pitched yelling begin? Where are the sleazy lyrics? The barbaric rapping? But everything we have experienced up until this point has vanished, and this is what becomes surprising to the listener. The concept that these two, very egocentric people, are allowing themselves to calm down and be tender is “legitimately adventurous” within itself.

An album that you cannot stop listening to, no matter how hard you try to ignore the disorganised, disordered chaos. Whatever way you turn to face, there is either a high pitched voice screeching nonsensical gibberish, a middle aged white man ‘rapping’ about making his baby girl do unusual stuff, or you are pushed into a rave and whether you want to be in it or not, you accept your fate as you progress on this patience enduring test. You are forced into a whirlwind of turmoil and havoc, it’s as though you have taken some form of pill and having a great night out...just only without the pill, and you want to throw up due to the shamble and legitimate sickness that is the progressiveness of Mount Ninji and da Nice Time Kid. At the end of the day it is certainly different from ‘everyday’ pop music, and it is positively without fail, an experience.

Essential Tracks: “I don’t care”, “Darkling” and “Banana Brain”

http://www.nouse.co.uk/2016/11/24/album-review-die-antwoord-mount-ninji-and-da-nice-time-kid/

http://consequenceofsound.net/2016/09/album-review-die-antwoord-mount-ninji-and-da-nice-time-kid/

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/sep/15/die-antwoord-mount-ninji-and-da-nice-time-kid-review

http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/22421-mount-ninji-and-da-nice-time-kid/

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