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sariels-world-ella · 1 year ago

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Conundrum of morality (The Game that I am co-creating, where I am the artist, music composer, co-story writer, dialogue writer and character design/developer) will have a minor/background character named Sandra Bakire-Faól, Mystic's Sister-in-law, who gets referenced and makes a few cameos (a photo of her in Mystic's office and a possibly an old voicemail on Mystic's phone once we reach the point of adding the phone mechanics, may or may not make a physical appearance in the full game)

Her design isn't 100% finalized so there is some inconsistency in her appearance among the drawings/concept art of her, also some was left out for not being very good.

Without dialogue:

Comic regarding Sandra's age: (I don't like her facial appearance in the first one and was tempted to discard it)

Hand drawn sketches/drawings, click/tap to fully view, transcriptions below the last drawings:

Concept art of possible sprite appearance:

Comic 1:

2 single frame drawings

Transcription of Comic 1:

Sandra: so my cousin shot in the head by a home invader who was mad at her because she couldn't save his wife. My husband(Your brother), fighter jet exploded, then my parents died of complications of old age, whose next? Me? You? My kids?

Mystic: I've got shot 28 times in the 30 years I've been in law enforcement, I'm not going anywhere, Sandra.

Sandra: well, not everyone is bulletproof, Mystic.

Mystic: I'm not bullet proof, I am just relentless.

Sandra: I wasn't being literal.

Sandra: why do you take everything literally?

Mystic: it's not my fault you don't say what you mean.

Transcription of the 2 single frame comics:

Sandra: I'm going to slap the silly out of you.

Jophie: Mami? Are we going to get to school?

Sandra: not now, Jophie, Mommy is busy chewing someone out. Trivia/character information under the cut:

“Sandra Bakire-Faol, the cousin of Cylda Da’brine, widow of Parker Faol, Sister in law to Mystic Faol and single mother of 3, is a charming empathic, sometimes being short tempered, lady who wants the best for everyone but is never afraid to give someone a piece of her mind. She wishes for everyone to have a chance to succeed in life. She wants to keep her late-husband’s memory alive and visits her husband’s cenotaph at once a month. She is deeply saddened by her husband’s unfortunate demise as an airforce pilot, however Sandra still believes it's best to move forward with life, though it can be difficult. Mystic has notably started visiting Sandra more frequently after Parker’s passing”

Since Mystic is older than Sandra, Mystic will be referred to by Sandra by the word variations for someone who is older than her while Mystic will do the same but for someone who is younger than them in the planned Japanese translation. Example (if my memory is correct): Sandra will call Mystic 義兄 (gikei) or 義姉 (gishi) while Mystic would call Sandra 義妹 (gimai)

The only exceptions of Sandra's name spelling changing in different translations is when the game releases it's planned translations into Russian and Japanese, with her name being spelled as "Сандра" and "サンドラ" respectively.

Since the 8 year age gap, and Sandra mentioning she looks young for her age with Parker being the opposite, looking older than his age, this could be a factor on why they have an 8 year age gap in the first place.

due to the 2 year age gap between her and Mystic, this makes it possible that Mystic and Sandra went to school together (if this is true, then they were not too close as it probably feel a bit awkward and much weirder for Parker and Sandra to be in a relationship).

If Sandra knew Mystic prior to her relationship to Parker, it could play another role in why Parker and Sandra have a large age gap, as if Sandra knew Mystic is older than Parker, it probably wouldn't make Sandra automatically think Parker is a whole decade younger than Mystic, (even with the world record for the biggest age gap between siblings being 41 years, I don't think Sandra would realistically think Parker was too much younger than Mystic, as large age gaps between siblings are apparently uncommon, and the average age gap between siblings is a surprising measly 2 years, but it does mean that Sandra would think that Parker could have easily been the same age as herself or extremely close to her age)

Since she is 46 and the game takes place in 2021 (when we first were developing the game) her birth year is 1975 thus alive during the 1981 school disaster, thus being one of the few alive and well-rounded minor characters to be alive at this time, other being Daniel Morgan (but he could be argued to be more of a prominent character in the game, as he makes a physical appearance and has talk/face dialogue box sprites.)

it's very clear that Sandra is in close contact with Mystic after Parker's death, but she still was before Parker died.

Only her daughter, who is the youngest child, has a known name, that being Jophie (it's "Sophie" but with a J), pronounced and sometimes misspelled as "Josphie", her sons' names are never mentioned.

If the game does well and a side stories DLC gets released, she’ll make an appearance with the side story revolving around Mystic’s late-brother Parker. this side story is about grief and taps into Mystic’s family life.

She is a lot older than she looks. She gets extremely annoyed when people think she’s younger than she is, because she feels that people would disrespect her more and assume she had her children while she was underaged.

She was 30 when her eldest child was born, her son is currently 16 thus making her currently 46, thus younger than her sibling-in-law Mystic (age 48) by 2 years

Abby is her adoptive first cousin once removed, but refers to Abby as “My Niece, Abby", "My late-cousin's adopted child" or just "My Niece”

Since she is Cylda’s Cousin this makes her Grandparents Da’brine’s (Abby Da'brine's caregivers) niece.

Sandra knows karate and self-defense, also being strong enough to carry Parker Bridal style, but it's implied Mystic is physically stronger.

Sandra got in an argument with a life insurance agent for two hours, possibly stated by Mystic in a chance dialogue in the full game, since the demo wouldn't have those type of chance dialogues.

Though Sandra is usually passive unless provoked, she is good at protecting herself and not afraid to stand her ground.

Sandra believes that she shouldn't be as sad about Parker’s death than Mystic should be because Mystic was Parker’s older sibling and grew up with him. But, Mystic's stoicness makes Mystic seem to have "absent grief".

When Sandra and Parker had a wedding, Sandra accidentally smacked her hand into Mystic’s face when she threw the bouquet of flowers, as she didn't know Mystic was standing next to her trying to ask why she was going to throw the flowers for.

Though Sandra is mentioned to be a lawyer, Mystic has completely memorized Arieon law, unlike Sandra, admitting Mystic reads and rereads Arieon Law books multiple times a day.

Sandra thinks Mystic’s restricted amount of interests and unwillingness to explore/gain new interests, lack of showing visual emotions, and taking things literally is somewhat strange and a bit annoying at times.

Sandra speaks fluently in the Arieon native/official language and usually prefer to using profanity in that language than English.

Sandra is either a second or first generation immigrant to Arieon (the fictional country the game takes place in), while her cousin, Clyda is second.

She's the only character who wears cosmetics, and the second only character to wear piercings(ear rings) with the other being her cousin Clyda Da'brine, evident by Clyda's picture in Mystic's office.

she is the 3rd character to have canonically deceased parent(s), with the others being Abby and Gunther, though Gunther's parents are completely unknown as he was an orphan for an unknown reason, but it's safe to assume his biological parents are dead as Gunther is chronologically 116 years old. With regards to Abby, only her adoptive Mother is dead as her biological parents' status is unknown.

It's unknown what country her family/she immigrated from, however judging by her race, it's most likely an European or North American country.

Depending on her immigration status, either Parker met her overseas and she immigrated to Arieon where some of her family happened to also live, or she was born in Arieon and her parents immigrated to Arieon. the latter may be more likely seeing she knows the native language, some of her family lives there and Parker doesn't have much of a reason to be overseas in the time frame of before he joined the military, but this could be argued against.

if the game had to have a romantic subplot it would be about Sandra and Parker's relationship, even though he's deceased.

She's the second known character to have lost a spouse, though Daniel Morgan lost his spouse through a divorce due to an unknown reason, also making Sandra Bakire-Faol and Daniel Morgan the only 2 single parents with biological children, and Sandra Bakire-Faol, Daniel Morgan, and Clyda Da'brine the only single parents in the game.

if Sandra makes a physical appearance in the game, it would be at the end of the linear route's neutral ending in Soliarin Cemetery, if the player is unable to keep Abby from ending up dying from a blunt force impact in Chapter 2, she'll be watering flowers on Abby's gravesite and if spoken to the first time, she will reassure Mystic it wasn't their fault and Mystic tried as much as they could. interacting with her a second time she says that Parker wouldn't mind her spending today with Abby at the moment, implying that she usually goes/plans to visit Parker's cenotaph on this day or the day the linear route ends is on Parker's birthday.

Regarding to the fact above, it's likely the latter is the case as by her dialogue being easy to assume that she was supposed to "visit him" that day, though other possibilities are that it's the end of the month or she has no other days available in that month to visit his cenotaph at the Arieon Capital, Atyrau.

Dialogue Changes in different Translations:

Sandra's voicemail dialogue changes in different subs/translations when translated back into English: in English she greets Mystic, and introduces herself as "this is your sister in law calling" and says her son's talent show is next Thursday and it would mean a lot, ending with "Please respond as soon as you can! Sincerely Sandra then mumbles to herself "oh wait, do you say that in a voicemail? Ugh, nevermind, it doesn’t matter"

in the spanish version, her dialogue is the same except she says "I want to know if you can come, your nephew really wants you to! Call me when you can, sincerely, Sandra" and mumbles "Oh wait, I'm not supposed to say "sincerely" in a voicemail Ugh never mind never mind"

In the French version the dialogue changes just a bit and , but the major change is that she says "I just want you to know that my son is in a play at school and he wanted you to come ... Call me back soon! cordially Sandra!" and mumbles "Wait, that's not a letter, I'm not supposed to say cordially"

in the German version, she says at the end "I would like to know if you would like to come or not. It would mean a lot to me if you did…! Please reply as soon as possible. Kind regards Sandra! (Oh wait, isn't that exactly what they say in letters? Oh, never mind, it doesn't matter)"

in the Russian version, it's a concert, besides that nothing changes but her mumble at the end is a bit different being "oh wait, should I say this at the end of the voicemail? Ugh, whatever, it doesn't matter"

in the Japanese version, quite a few things change, she refers Mystic using the -san honorific, she doesn't say "this is your sister in law", instead she just says "this is Sandra" she also says it's her son's birthday and he wants Mystic to attend not a talent show. she ends with "Please call me back if possible. With love, Sandra! Oh wait. Unlike actual mail, we don't verbally sign your name on voicemails. Hmmm, ignore that."

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ahopkins1965 · 7 months ago

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Chapter #1 the Beginning

My personal beginning started at birth. On Thursday June 24, 1965 at 7:30PM. St. Elizabeth Hospital in Dayton, Ohio. I want to inform all of you that my mother was 21 years old during that time. My father’s information is not available. The only thing that I can say is that I was created through a one night stand.

Next, I remember when my mother told me that my father was older than her. I supposed that my existence came all of a sudden. I was born in Dayton, Ohio. I remember during that time that Dayton, Ohio was very popular when it came to music. Although Detroit, Michigan had Motown Records. I remember when my mother used to take me to church all of the time.

Further, I also recall spending a lot of time with my grandmothers. I was blessed to see two grandmothers and two grandfathers. I was a blessed child. The church that I was a member of was Bethel Church of God in Christ, which was located on Germantown Street in Dayton, Ohio. I remember when my grandmother told me that I was baptized when I was six months old.

Moreover, it was very nice during that time because my grandparents were working full time at the Pine Club Restaurant; located on Brown Street in Dayton, Ohio. I recall going to work with my grandmother for a few years. I want to inform all of you that I was a year old during that time when my Great Grandmother used to take me to church with her. I met all of the Deacons of the church as well as the Pastor at the church.

In Addition, I will admit that my first few years, I had spent at my grandmother’s house in West Dayton, Ohio. My grandmother lived inside of a very quiet neighborhood. My grandmother was always working just to pay the bills inside of the house. The first seven years of my life consisted of spending time with my cousins and aunt. My aunt worked during that time as well.

Also, my elders of the house were always busy. The 1970s were very interesting to all of those who used to have a musical talent. My family was small at that time. This is also the time I used to get into fist fights with other kids my age. I guess they used to pick on me because I was a very small young man during that time.

However, there were times when I used to run away from home. There were children that picked on me because I was smaller than they were. There were kids in my age group that were larger than me. I want to say that; the first seven years were very nice.

Edison Elementary School in Dayton, Ohio’s West Dayton was a very large school. I remember when I was 4 years old, I was in the Pre- Kindergarten, and I had teachers who could not handle me because I was very hyperactive during that time. One thing that my grandparents used to do; was take me to church with them. I recall having teachers who were very understanding towards all of us. I know that my mother had other children by her husband.

Edison Elementary School was located on 228 North Broadway Avenue in Dayton, Ohio 45407. I knew the address because my mother used to read to all of us as children. My grandparents used to read to me as well. I remember when my mother was gifted educationally because she graduated from Roosevelt High School in 1961. My mother used to help my Uncle with his homework, and he graduated from Dunbar High School in 1960.

My cousins were gifted in school. They were earning As and Bs in school. I remember earning all Cs in school. I know that I could not stand math in school. I did very well in other classes except math. My math teachers were very understanding and very genuine. I used to have problems doing algebra in school. I had a problem completing word problems as well.

As a result, I ended up earning all average grades in school. I do recall earning above average grades in Science and Social Studies. I had a lot of fun during that time. I did very well in English classes in school. I do recall attending Summer School when I was in the 4th grade and 7th grade.

Yet, I still had problems dealing with word problems in math. I read everything the proper way, but I still got the answers wrong on the test. My sisters were very intelligent in school. The 1970s were challenging for me because I had to transfer to a school that was 8 miles from me in 1977.

They started sending African American children to schools inside of European American neighborhoods in 1976. It was not very easy because I remember getting called names because of my color of my skin during that time. After all, I got along well with everyone except for a few students, who lived across the bridge from me. I do remember going to the neighborhood laundry mat, which was located on Riverview and Williams Street in Dayton, Ohio. It was less than a half a mile from my grandmother’s house.

At the same time, I was very nervous going inside of that neighborhood because of the street gangs that we had in the city of Dayton, Ohio.

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merv606 · 5 months ago

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“Okay some ground rules before we go in,” Daniel says, turning sharply to face his husband.

“Ground rules?” Terry parrots, infuriating half smirk already in place on his face, although his voice is equal amounts incredulous and amused as he looks at his husband.

Daniel more so glaring up at him now.

“I wasn’t the one who got us kicked out last time sweetheart. In fact,” Terry grins even more, acting like he has to think to access the at particular memory, “if my memory serves it was you who threw your drink at the senator.”

Both hands are pressed tight together, both fingers pointing at Daniel.

“He was an ass, Terry, and that is not the same as you punching someone because they were talking to me … and you know it,” he grates out, pointing a finger back at Terry now, taking a few steps closer, that finger on his chest now.

Oh how Terry longs to take that hand in his and kiss that finger, maybe draw it into his mouth, but it would ruin the momentum Terry is working up.

A defensive tone, pissy expression now, and hand on his narrow hips now.

SFW

Perfect, Terry thinks.

God, but Daniel looks so good in his bespoke suit - too good actually. The cut is absolute perfection for his lean build, fitting him like a glove, showing off how slender he still is, especially compared to Terry. Their tailor might be in for a bonus. And the colour scheme Terry choose for them tonight - Silver is truly his Danny-boy’s colour, but then again Terry thinks every colour is. But the dark and light silvers of the suit and shirt, opposite of Terry’s own, something the older man’s always insists on, are really bringing out the barely suppressed rage behind those dark brown eyes. Terry wonders now, if this suit should have been for his eyes only. Shame that such a glorious piece is more likely than not going to end up on their floor, ruined and unwearable again.

That is, if Terry plays his cards right and doesn’t tip Daniel past his pleasantly pissy state to making Terry sleep in the guest room.

It’s all about balance with them. Always.

Balance of his temper and Terry’s obsession. Balance between their love for each other and how differently they experience that and express it.

“Please, it wasn’t the talking and you know it,” Terry responds airily and Daniel’s eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline.

“It was because he touched you.”

“My arm Terry. He touched my arm.”

“Yes, well,” Terry straightens now to his full height, so used to automatically bending slightly to be more level with his husband. “Your arm was enough, and you know it would have turned into him trying to put his hands elsewhere.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. His husband was grossly delusional in his thought that every man in Daniel’s general vicinity wanted to bed him.

Terry called it an over abundance of caution and would actually say it was justified, given the amount of men he had to slap restraining orders with over the years.

Some people say it’s unhealthy. Terry calls it still being passionate after all these decades.

And okay some of those were warranted, Daniel can admit that, but certainly not all. He thinks he holds some kind of record, but he’s truly afraid to know the actual number, only having a general idea.

Yes there had been incidents over the years and what can only be called indecent proposals, which were more so in the beginning when people thought Daniel was the newest flavour of the month - simply the latest beautiful boy warming Terry’s bed.

How wrong they were. How wrong they all were.

Except Terry. He knew the minute he laid eyes on Daniel that he was to be his and his alone. For the rest of their lives.

And trying as that was at times, so far that is proving to be true. His boy and the life Terry had built for them was always worth it.

“Men have a habit of wanting to touch you and you know I don’t like people touching my things.”

The sun glints off the wedding band on Daniel’s finger.

Trying to pull his husband in, Daniel bats his hands away instead, and the claws are clearly out, Terry silently delighted, but much to his dismay, Daniel quickly remembers they are in public, reigning himself in.

If they were home Terry would already have him up over his shoulder carrying him hissing and spitting to their bedroom. A rough fuck often helped calm Daniel; even if it was only a temporary fix, which Terry wouldn’t have any other way. He adored his boy’s attitude which, curtesy of Terry’s help, only got worse the older he got, and he was still doing nothing to dissuade it. In fact, he encouraged it.

“Terry I am not bailing you out of jail.”

“Like you’d have to.” Their lawyer was always on retainer, and during events like these, was on speed dial as well.

While his smaller husband is the hot head of the bunch, it is well known by now that Terry is not a forgiving man when it comes to any type of transgression - real or imagined - against his husband.

Daniel’s anger was legendary, this is true, but Terry was cold and calculating. Daniel’s anger burned bright but fast, Terry thought, held on to his.

As a result Daniel could be scary in the moment, but Terry was terrifying.

“Also,” Daniel continues, clearing gearing up for a rant, “you are to keep your hands to yourself.”

Public displays always get Terry going although, not that it takes much, as long as Daniel is concerned, then Terry is ready to go.

Terry snorts now. “Please,” arrogant tone on display, “like after a few glasses of champagne it’s not going to be you pulling me into the bathroom so I can bend you over the counter …”

“That was one time,” he hisses.

Terry had looked good in his suit and champagne always went to Daniel’s head, and made him make some questionable decisions.

“Yes and that one time got us banned from that gala charity event for almost a decade,” he rubs his chin before smiling done sweetly. “Didn’t it sweetheart?”

It was also in all the papers. Much to Daniel’s horror and never ending embarrassment and Terry’s sheer delight.

He has some framed in his office and refuses to take them down. Daniel has tried, over the years, of taking them down himself and burning them but they show right back up.

He doesn’t want to know how many copies Terry has or where he’s keeping them stashed.

12 years actually, Daniel wants to correct but he knows Terry knows that.

“It was worth it though. The way you beg so sweetly for my cock when you’re …”

“I’m serious Terry,” and his foot is tapping now. “I want to see nothing in tomorrow’s papers about us.”

“Well that depends on you as much as me” he says serenely, knowing it’s just working up his smaller husband more and more.

Terry wonders how long the ban will last on this one because no way in hell are they making it though this without Terry bending Daniel over something and fucking that gorgeous attitude out of his beautiful little brat.

He’s hard enough to cut glass already.

“Alright fine,” teeth gritted. “I will behave if you will,” but it’s said in a tone that clearly conveys that Daniel does not think his behaviour is the real issue.

And maybe it’s not - not really. It’s always the both of them really, giving as good as they’re getting.

Some people bring out he best in each other and some just encourage the worst, although Terry is adamant he had made his husband stronger and more powerful over the years - the best version of himself he was always trying to deny.

For now though, he puts a hand on the small of Daniel’s back, and he can feel the tension melting out of the smaller man, as he allows himself to be guided inside.

Terry Silver & Daniel LaRusso | 5.04

#storytime #ficlet #the scene that truly keeps on giving #terry silver #Daniel Larusso #cobra kai #karate kid #silverusso #silverrusso

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girlreviews · 9 months ago

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Review #382: Currents, Tame Impala

Yet another album coming up on ten years old that forces me to reckon with the fact that I too am also almost ten years older than when it came out. They took five years to put out another! By the time they did that we were in the throes of a pandemic. So a lot happened. I had a lot of different haircuts. A lot.

It’s another breakup album. It came out the year I got married. I’m now divorced. It’s been pretty interesting revisiting this record, because my ex-husband and I were super into it. Everyone was, at least everyone who liked alternative music and wore flannel and tiny hats. Whatever iteration of hipster was hanging around East Nashville in 2015, they were playing it in every bougie coffee shop and thrift store. So it fell out of favor for me after a while, I got a little sick of it.

I had actually just seen them live a few years prior, right before moving Stateside. In Australia of all places, where they are from! At a festival called Groovin’ the Moo, in Canberra. I was there on a WILD ride, with a guy I met in London at a NYE party at the Ukrainian embassy (????) through a mutual friend who was dating my bestie. He and I hit it off, stayed up all night doing drugs, talking mad shit, and having a great time. Mans is moving back to Australia in three days. Oh well. Never mind. Nope, four months later I’m there visiting him. This was quite literally bananas, but really fucking fun — also a fucking disaster. It was like we were falling in love, getting together and breaking up all at the same time. The absolute fucking antics we get up to on this trip. We are invited to a house party, and are so drunk before arriving we accidentally break into THE WRONG house trying to attend. We wake up one morning in our room with the bed completely wonky, two legs snapped on it, potato chips absolutely fucking everywhere, all over the bed, floor, surfaces, and there’s just a pug dog snuffling around eating them all. Do not know whose dog it was to this day. Attend this festival, remember absolutely nothing about it other than seeing Tame Impala, return to the UK with a gnarly sunburn, a powerpuff girls pillow bought as a forget-me-not and a plastic frog table marker stolen from a pizza joint. If it doesn’t sound romantic, it’s because it shouldn’t. But we were in LOVE! It was a fucking disaster and it ended quite badly and I arrived in America a broken hollow shell of a woman. This honestly cracks me up. This is exactly the kind of bullshit you’re supposed to pull in your twenties, everyone. And Tame Impala is the exact right soundtrack for it, psychedelic pop rock weirdness. It was their prior album Lonerism that scored that particular moment, with the most prominent track for me being appropriately titled It Feels Like We Only Go Backwards. Teehee.

Anyway, it’s a few years later, I have my shit together a bit now, I’m getting married or already am, and here comes Tame Impala with Currents. It seems like Kevin Parker maybe had some love adventure of his own and he’s gotta get it off his chest, he’s got some feelings. Here’s what I love about this record, and it’s gonna sound like I’m ripping on it, but I’m not. The lyrics, they’re really pretty… What word am I looking for here. They lack sophistication and depth. Man really just says what he would say to his bros when he’s trying to say how he feels about his relationship ending. They’re simple. They’re rudimentary. They’re clumsy. But they’re perfect. Are we poetic when we are messy in a breakup? Do I sound like I was poetic in any shape or form on potato chip pug hangover day? No. It is what it is. There were multiple different KINDS of potato chips, guys. It’s like we thought we were sowing potato chip seeds to grow a little garden. The pug got his head stuck in a bag for a hot second. You can’t make it what it isn’t. It’s a damn mess. But you CAN make the music and sound emote. And that he does, magically and wonderfully, carrying the lyrics. It works together so well. It’s a journey.

Let it Happen, first of all, I challenge you to run to this. It’s almost eight minutes and is great for keeping pace (I have mentioned my running playlists are wild and I’m not kidding). A friend pointed out to me this past weekend that something I tend to gravitate towards in songs — and they’re right — is ones that evolve and take you on a trip. The end of the song is unrecognizable from the beginning. I love that. This is one of those. It also just fucking slaps. Great start.

Eventually and Less I Know The Better are prime examples of the sonic mastery and lyrical lacking just sort of working. They’re also the most obvious breakup tracks and those simple words are what make it so god damn relatable:

“She said it’s not now or never

In ten years we’ll be together

I said better late than never

Just don’t let me wait forever

Don’t let me wait forever”

Past Life. FUCK, this song is so fucking good it’s so fucking DIFFERENT. Can’t even speak on it, just go stick it on and vibe your ass off, okay?

Disciples is my absolute favorite. For a few reasons. I also love me a short track. But this one is SO fun to sing, and it’s so chirpy and upbeat for a song that’s basically about telling someone you used to care for that they’re a shitty person now (“now it’s like the world owes you, walking around like everybody should know you”). By the way, have you ever done that, told someone you loved that you officially think they suck now? Interesting experience. Not sure whether I recommend it or not to be honest, maybe one of those things that you’ve gotta try on for yourself to see if it’s for you. But anyway, also there’s just some really great steering wheel slap moments of bass and percussion that make me want to DIE and ASCEND from this mortal plain to wherever this song was born from. I said what I said.

If not for Disciples, there’s no question that my favorite track would be ‘Cause I’m a Man. I still remember driving my friend Brittney home in my Lincoln LS, and she was like, you gotta hear the new Tame Impala track. I honestly was not impressed. But she was so animated, and made me listen over and over until I got it. This is a rare song for me, because even now I like it more with each listen. It’s not a surprise, since it’s about his own self reflection on how shitty men are, how they’re always just making sad little excuses for why they don’t measure up to women, and are always letting us down. He does a good job, he really does (“Cause I’m a man, woman, I’ll never be as strong as you”). But, throughout the song he makes these kind of lazy, semi-sexual “uh!” noises and they’re honestly hilarious. They just really add something. I can’t explain why. It’s sort of a nice touch of self depreciation that I truly appreciate.

It’s a one of a kind record, really. It was different from their previous, and their follow up didn’t match it. They have a new single out with Justice and I’m told it’s very good. I saw them again in 2022 at a festival in Barcelona, much less wild and drug fueled than my previous go around (I’m in my thirties now, who has the energy). The sound was bad and my feet hurt, BUT Kevin Parker did us all a solid and covered Last Nite by The Strokes which cheered us all up, because they got COVID and pulled out last minute. Ah well, Julian’s a creep anyhow and could never write something as self aware as Currents. He’s still hitting on teenage girls in his late forties. Kevin Parker, I better not find you pulling the same shit or I will be coming for you and it will be ugly.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #tame impala #currents

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thedaveandkimmershow · 9 months ago

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My uncle passed away a few days ago. Tuesday, February 20.

He died in Bali, Indonesia on what would be his final journey to the country of his birth.

We received the news a half hour after his passing, 130ish in the morning at our home, 530ish in the afternoon some eight thousand miles away across the Pacific Ocean.

He was my mom's older brother in a family of four. My mom's older sister and her younger brother passed away twenty years ago within months of each other, leaving my mom as the last serving sibling.

My uncle was super old by the way. That's not a knock on his age, by the way. Another nine years and he would've spent a literal century having lived on this third rock from the sun.

So safe to say he lived a full life, ending, believe it or not, with the title of Great-Grandfather.

My family in Holland is my family that I sometimes think of as my mythological family. This is the part of my family that lives in The Netherlands, has lived in The Netherlands for most and all of their lives, and who probably will always live in the Netherlands.

So yeah.

Distance is a thing. I can't just point to them and declare There they are!

You pretty much have to take my word on it.

Still, I tell people about the weird connection we have with roots in our collective childhoods. I tell people about our similarity of personalities, a modern-day tell that we're from the same tribe. And I tell people that time and distance don't diminish our shared connection. Which is a helluva thing given that twenty years just filled the space between last month when we were with them... and the time before that.

Twenty years ago.

And no. It doesn't, does not, seem to diminish us or our relationships with each other.

My uncle, by the way, my mom's older brother, was a drummer. He was on the kit with bands at a young punk age so it was hard not to think of him as a pretty cool dude. We met for the first time when I was a child. I had to be younger than ten when I met he, my aunt, and their son, my cousin. Later, a daughter would come along, another cousin for me, but it was that first meeting, the family of three, at which we were introduced. At the time, I think it was the company, Phillips, that he worked for. The sound recording company. Long play records. Cassette tapes. Electronic sound equipment. I'm not sure where he was in the company or how he came to be there but professional musician was his vibe.

He was a kind man. A clever and silly man. The man for whom Kimmer 'n I got on a plane to travel the five thousand miles to his home where we spent hours of every day with him. And where I got to tell him that I love him and thanked him for being my uncle. I don't know what that last bit means, actually. After all, an uncle's an uncle. It's a label of relationship within a family.

Gotta say, though, he brought a lot of honor and, yes, a certain X-factor to the uncle gig.

In the end, as in the beginning, he made an indelible impression in my memories. One who always made me smile. And one, I'm certain, who's passing will take a while to set.

Why?

Because with friends and family I don't see often, their passing doesn't register in the same way as someone who suddenly drops out of the middle of my life. There's gonna be a part of me that naturally thinks my uncle's still there across a country and an ocean, a great-grandfather, a husband, drummer, a good man. Enjoying his life surrounded by family that moves through his home like a natural current. There's a part of me that'll assume my uncle's living his life on the other side of the world until...

Until...

Until the part of me that knows better reminds me that he has, in fact, left the building.

I miss him, though. Right now as I'm thinking about him, I miss him. Just like I miss his sister and his younger brother whose memories I keep from childhood, whose memories sometimes prevent me from remembering they're no longer with us.

It's the only benefit I can think of, this thing where my family lives so far away and years go by between those times that we see each other: my sense that they're present on this earth with me is stronger. It's a bedrock reality for me that they are simply there.

Always.

My uncle passed away a few days ago. Tuesday, February 20.

He died in Bali, Indonesia on what would be his final journey to the country of his birth.

It's a fitting end to the story of his life, one that was absolutely made possible by his wife, his son, and his daughter. What I'll remember is that it was a quest. A literal adventure, traveling more than a thousand miles by plane, train, and automobile just to get started, moving from the west of Indonesia all the way to the east. In a way, it was also traveling back in time, revisiting the country of my uncle's youth, back where the life as he knew it started.

It's the quest I'll remember more than anything else.

One that remains ongoing.

☺️❤️

#indonesia #holland #family #uncle #passing #my uncle #love #friendship #laughter #tears #relationships #connection #home

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bethanydelleman · 2 years ago

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The Problem with Virginity and Jane Austen

Long post and discussions of sex, non-graphic mention of sexual assault

There was a really thought provoking post by @anghraine which has me thinking about the male heroes and sex in Jane Austen’s novels.

From a modern perspective, I think it can be nicer to imagine that all of the Austen hero men, Darcy, Knightley, Brandon, Wentworth, Tilney, Bingley, Edward, and Edmund, are virgins. After all, they live in a pre-birth control era and syphilis is running rampant. None of us want to imagine Elizabeth’s nose falling off twenty years down the road or Catherine bumping into a very familiar looking child in Woodston village. (and yes, I’m well aware they had some forms of birth control but nothing like today, women were desperate for what we have today, it’s a modern miracle)

I am no sociologist, but I have observed a lot of human behaviour from the present and a lot of sex is had, and unsafe sex too. Teenagers are wild. I also know from church records in the period that many people “anticipated their vows” because there are a miraculous number of babies born within a few months of their parents marrying who live to tell the tale. I also know that London was full of prostitutes and many high and wealthy men had mistresses, sometimes very publically. The navy had problems with homosexual sex (which may have been a social acceptance problem or a rape problem *ahem* modern military) and with a lot of prostitution occuring on shore (source: Brian Southam who wrote a wonderful book called Jane Austen and the Navy) It was a work hard, party hard sort of lifestyle, as we can see below in this Thomas Rowlandson painting:

So the least likely to be a virgin in my mind is Wentworth, with his eight years of success at sea, followed by Brandon, who was stationed abroad in the military, also trying to get over a lost love, and Knightley, based on age alone (he is the oldest at 38).

Now on to the big issue, are we readers wishing virginity on the Jane Austen men for the right reasons? Syphilis and natural children aside, I grew up in a church that pushed the purity gospel and it is not good. It messes people up. They are now writing books about what it did to people. So I don’t want to force puritanical ideals on Jane Austen’s heroes just because I was taught some very harmful rhetoric.

I personally know men who waited for marriage, but they also tended to marry early (22-25). In most churches who teach this message, both men and women marry because they want to have sex (even though we aren’t supposed to do that, I know, it’s very shocking s/). So I can see Edmund and Edward being virgins on their wedding nights because they are both religious and both quite young (plus a secret engagement formed when Edward was 19). Even Bingley might be, though he seems much more out in the world. But the older these men get and still seem indifferent to marrying, I think they are getting something elsewhere. (they may also have low libido, this is very possible and not discussed enough but I can only say so much in one post)

I listened to a lecture once about if Darcy is a virgin which ended with the professor saying, “Of course not, he went to university” and he then explained that a lot of drinking and sex was happening at these places. Now we know Darcy looked down on what Wickham was doing at Cambridge, but was this because Darcy was going about it “the right way” while Wickham was seducing tradesmen’s daughters and servants? Possible too.

It is also possible that some of these Hero Austen men might have a mistress down the road. If you want to have sex, there is always a possibility of having a baby. Lady Bertram, with her perfect four child family, might well have told Sir Thomas to start looking elsewhere. I have read a letter from a woman in this century who sent her husband away because she had five babies in five years and she was done. It’s just a whole different concept than today. There was no “trying” for a baby, you had sex and babies came. But add to that half a family being swept away in sudden illness, you were relying on those extra children to make it to adulthood. Women faced being pregnant constantly for 15-20 years!

So yes, I would like the Austen men to be virgins (and I really think basically all the unmarried women we meet are), but I think it’s a desire heavily influenced by my own upbringing and the Victorian era. Henry Crawford, who is morally dubious but still, completely separates love and sex in his mind. That is something that seems crazy to us today, but the aristocracy at the time seem to share this view. You have a wife, you treat her “right” and you have a mistress on the side. Somehow, in this era, that was accepted as okay.

I agree that Jane Austen probably wasn’t on board with a lot of this, but she also wasn’t privy to those conversations that we would also need to hear to have a full view of the era. Were the men bragging about sexual conquests when the women left after dinner? Was a good husband one who kept a mistress and didn’t let anyone know? Or one who didn’t get the servants pregnant? Or was it good enough not to mess with your own class? (Darcy did not decide to warn the lower class people of Meryton about Wickham, are those women below his notice?) Everyone is horrified by the treatment of Eliza Williams, but if Willoughby had provided a hundred a year for the baby would he be okay? Emma seems to approve of what Harriet’s father has done in her maintenance.

I just don’t know.

#jane austen #virginity is a tricky concept #I was so brainwashed I wouldn't dye my hair because it was virgin and that word basically meant good to me #jane austen heroes #wentworth #darcy #knightley #henry tilney #edmund bertram #edward ferrars #charles bingley #colonel brandon

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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for the sleepover tonight! zemo needs an heir, you need money. you agree to marry him in exchange for birthing a child and divorcing several months after. only you've grown feelings and now you don't want to leave him

um let’s not worry that I made this pure angst/fluff

Adalgisa | feminine

origin: German

meaning: Noble, precious promise

Since the full name didn’t exactly roll off the tongue, you usually called her Addy; sometimes Gigi because it made her giggle.

You hoped she would never know how true her name’s meaning really was, that she was the result of a contractual agreement between you and her father. By now you had the contract memorized, since you read it every time you couldn’t sleep: In essence, it said that you and Helmut could divorce as soon as the child was done breastfeeding and that you would get ample visitation to go with your handsome compensation.

But as the time approached, you couldn’t imagine leaving her now; that much was clear as you looked down at where she’d fallen asleep on your chest. You stroked your fingers over her curls, admiring the innocence of her peaceful expression. And then you looked at your husband sleeping beside you, his arm limply draped over both of you... and you couldn’t imagine leaving him, either. That was the part you didn’t expect.

Of course you’d known that there was a decent chance this whole thing would backfire, but your plan in that case was just to flee with the child and raise her without knowledge of her birthright. But, that was all assuming that the reason it would backfire would be too much love for the kid, and/or the Baron being exactly as controlling and cold as he seemed at first. After all, who needs a contract to have a child?

The last three years with him brought so much more clarity than you could’ve imagined. From the beginning he was so gentle with you, more patient than he needed to be, even when he was a bit aloof and so deeply reserved. You never wanted for anything... well, that’s not totally true. Every night you wanted his touch, longed for more than what a contract required, and you could never tell if he really had any affection for you if he just wanted to make you comfortable while he did his best to get you pregnant.

When you found out he’d done it after all, you didn’t tell him right away (even though that was in direct violation of the contract). You weren’t ready for him to stop touching you, you weren’t ready for how he would treat you when intimacy no longer served a purpose. Of course, your moral compass got the better of you before he could actually take you to bed again; you just couldn’t bring yourself to let him go through with it when you knew it was under false pretenses.

“Wait,” you gasped as he kissed down your neck, pushing his hands away from where they had begun to tenderly spread your legs.

“Is everything alright?” he breathed, pulling back to stare down at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I-- I’m fine,” you stammered.

“Should I stop?” he pressed, looking a bit conflicted as his gaze scanned your body; clearly he would stop if you said to, but at the same time, his own desperation was apparent. It was rare for someone normally as collected as him.

“Well, you don’t need to, but you might want to when I tell you...” you trailed off.

“Tell me what?”

You chewed on your lip. “Helmut... I’m pregnant.”

His eyes went wide and you looked away, guilt burning in your gut. “How... how long have you...?”

“Just a few days, I should’ve told you as soon as I knew but I was scared--”

“Scared of what?”

Scared that you’d never kiss me again, you immediately thought to yourself. Scared that the last time was the last time-- I would’ve done it different if I had known it was the last time. I would’ve held you closer, I would’ve loved you harder; I would’ve made sure that even if you were going to throw me once it was all over, that you would never forget me.

“I... don’t know.”

“Darling,” he whispered, “it’s wonderful. This is wonderful. You’re so... you’re beautiful.”

He leaned down again to give you a slow kiss, the softest smile pressing against your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, relaxing a bit.

“I can’t believe it,” he mumbled. “In the best way, I mean.”

His hand ventured down to your belly where he let it rest as he stared in awe. You both spent a moment in that silence together, and the energy shifted slightly as he looked up at you again.

“Darling...”

“Yes, Helmut?”

“May I make love to you?” he asked, lowering his voice. The question caught you off-guard, and made a sting of need hit between your legs. “I know we don’t need to, since you’re already... and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want this, but--”

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “I want you, please.”

I love you, you wanted to say, but he kissed you before you could.

And then the pregnancy... finally that hard shell began to crack as he watched your bump grow. He became so doting, and not just by kissing and rubbing your belly or talking about the baby; he kissed you, too, and with more love in his eyes than you knew what to do with. You decided not to let yourself wonder if he loved you back; you could barely admit that you loved him in the first place.

When Addy was born, you realized you’d never known how beautiful family could feel. But now it was everything to you; now you were this baby’s entire world, and she was yours, and Helmut was absolutely enamored with her.

“Spending some quality time with your baroness, huh?” you chuckled as you walked in on him dancing around to an old record with the baby on his hip.

“Darling, you’re my baroness,” he clarified, and you had not expected the effect those words would have on you. “She’ll gain the title when she’s older. For now she’s just my little heiress.”

And now that she was almost two, she was undeniably a daddy’s girl in return. Not that she didn’t love you, obviously, but she was so spoiled by him. It was sort of a rarity that she was sleeping on you tonight and not him; in fact, it was normally him that let her into your bed when she was meant to be sleeping in her nursery.

Tears welled in your eyes as you realized that you absolutely could not leave. Maybe you could survive a divorce from the man you were secretly in love with, but you couldn’t move out. You couldn’t be away from her, from this. It wasn’t just a man and a woman and a child. It wasn’t just a Baron and his contractually-obligated wife and their means-to-an-end child.

The three of you were the Zemo family now. And you loved being a part of it so much.

“Helmut,” you whispered, seeing him jolt from his sleep.

“Is everything okay?” he asked before he was even completely awake. “Are you safe?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” you laughed softly. “I was just wondering if I should take her to her room.”

“I’ll do it,” he offered, starting to sit up. “You don’t have the finesse it takes to carry her without waking her up.”

You frowned, but didn’t protest because you knew he was right. He carefully lifted her sleeping body off of you and leaned her onto his shoulder as he carried her out and down the hall. You waited in darkness and silence for his return, imagining what you might say when he came back.

I love you.

I want to get out of the contract.

I think we should stay married.

All worthy contenders, but when he came back to bed empty-handed, none of them seemed to come out of your mouth even when you opened it to speak.

“Goodnight, darling,” he whispered, turning away as he pulled the blankets up over himself.

I love you, you wanted to say it so much, it was so fucking close to your lips but you came up silent. I love you I love you I love you. “Goodnight,” you heard yourself say instead.

Maybe you’d find the courage to tell him tomorrow, before it was too late. But then again, that was the last thought you’d had every night for the past year.

#helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #saturday night sleepover #wakingbeauty

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queenshelby · 4 years ago

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Just Friends - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 5034

Foreword:

I have never written anything for an actual person. For my own comfort, I will not be referring to Cillian’s actual family and, instead, I have created two small biographies for the Reader and Cillian.

Biography:

The Reader:

The Reader is 24 years old and recently moved to Dublin with her 5 year old son, Max in order to take up a fantastic job offer.

Max’s father isn’t interested in a relationship with his son and separated from the Reader pretty much as soon as she found out that she was pregnant.

The Reader is a novelist and editor for the Irish Times.

The Reader’s interests include books, listening to records, theatre and attending live music gigs.

The Reader has a close relationship with her grandmother who is 65 years old and a writer herself. She also lives in Dublin with her second husband, who is originally from Galway.

Cillian:

Cillian is 42 years old in this story. He is divorced from his wife Siobhan and has two kids, Charlie (6) and Hendricks (8).

He lives in a town house in Dublin and shares custody.

In this story, he finished filming Season 4 of Peaky Blinders about three months ago, which is when the Reader first met him.

---------------------------

JUST FRIENDS

Three and a half months ago you moved to Dublin to take a position as editor at the Irish Times. Initially, the move was daunting to you as you were a single mother and moving your son to a different preschool concerned you.

Fortunately, your grandmother was living in Dublin as well and offered to help you with looking after your son, Max. She was a retired novelist herself and you always had a close relationship with her. Having her around was a blessing.

Over the years, you also met some Irish writers and established good relationships with them. Therefore, finding friends in Dublin was not an issue.

One of your best friends was a play writer from London and was working in Ireland at the time, promoting her theatre play called ‘Blessings’. She introduced you to a bunch of people, most of which were working in the entertainment industry in some way or another.

Whilst all of your new found friends were a fair bit older than you, you related to them. You had interests in common and most of them had children, just like you. They understood that sometimes plans had to be cancelled and flexibility was limited. Having children is a commitment which many of your younger friends didn’t understand. You weren’t interested in late nights because a young child meant early mornings. For this reason, you would much rather attend a dinner and board game night as a opposed to a night club.

And this is how you met a very interesting man named Cillian. Three months ago, your friend Orla invited you to a board game night with a couple of her friends. Cillian was pretty much the only other single person in attendance and, since this was a board game that had to be played in teams of two, you and Cillian were paired up with him.

He was funny and smart and very attractive. You had a good time that night and even won the game with your combined knowledge of random trivial facts.

He was a fun person to be around and you had several common interests.

Over the next few months, you spent a fair bit of time together, mostly with other friends but sometimes alone when your friends were doing things as couples with their partners.

Just recently, you went record shopping together and the weekend before last you and another friend of yours would take all of your kids to Dublin Zoo for the day. Your son Max developed a great friendship with Cillian’s youngest son Charlie. Playdates were a common occurrence.

While both of you separately explored the dating world, you really enjoyed Cillian’s company as a friend and he enjoyed yours and you would often chat about the mishaps you encountered and laugh about them. Dates gone wrong was one of your favourite topics.

The last relationship Cillian had was with a co-worker, which was far from ideal. They’ve met on set of one of his movies about a year after he divorced from his wife, but things didn’t go as planned and the relationship didn’t last. It ended about four months ago, being just one month before you met.

The last relationship you had was over a year ago and it also didn’t last as your boyfriend couldn’t deal with the fact that you were a single mum and that your son always came first.

For Valentines Day this year, your friends set up dates for each of you. It was disastrous. Neither of you were interested in committing at this point and you both were rather flustered about your friends’ efforts after you both had told them not to bother.

You were happy singles.

Theatre Night

As happy singles, you decided to go and see your friend’s new play ‘Blessings’ with some of your other friends on the night you all managed to be child free for once. It took a while to organise but was worth the effort.

‘Hi Max, how was preschool?’ Cillian asked as he opened the door to your townhouse for Cillian while you were in the bathroom, putting up your hair.

Max met Cillian numerous times and got along with him very well. After all, Cillian had a son the same age as Max.

‘Good. Do you want me to show you what I made?’ Max asked while you waived at Cillian from the bathroom.

‘Absolutely, show me’ Cillian said with a smile as he followed Max into the living room.

‘Look’ Max said as he held up two paintings.

‘Wow, is that a T-Rex?’ Cillian asked, causing Max to nod with excitement.

‘That’s very cool…he looks super scary’ Cillian added just as there was another knock on the door.

It was your grandmother who was here to pick up Max for his sleepover at her house.

You opened the door and asked Max to get his bag from the living room which you had packed for him earlier.

‘Nan, this is my friend Cillian’ you said as you introduced Cillian to your grandmother.

‘Hello Cillian, I am Margot. I loved Grief is a Thing with Feathers. It was such an intense play’ she said, knowing right away who he was despite the fact that you had never mentioned him to her before.

‘Thank you Margot and I loved By The Sea, it was a fantastic book’ Cillian responded. He read the book after you told him about your grandmother. Your writing style was very similar to hers and he always loved a good book.

‘Oh thank you very much. Now Max, are you ready?’ your grandmother asked.

Max was ready and you said goodbye, giving him a big hug and thanking your grandmother for looking after him for the night.

While Cillian waited in the living room, you finished your make up and slipped on your shoes.

‘Thank you for picking me up. I really have no idea where this place is’ you said as you grabbed your bag and the two of you were heading out of the door.

‘Any time Y/N, it isn’t far from here actually’ Cillian said.

As you were walking to the Arthouse Theatre you talked about all sorts of things, music, childcare and books.

It was a cold night in Dublin and you were probably underdressed for the occasion.

At the Arthouse Theatre you met up with another two friends of yours. They were both married, to each other, and shared three children. Luckily for them, they had a baby sitter that night.

The play was amazing and you all enjoyed it with a few glasses of wine which were served at the theatre. Cillian had good taste when it came to wine and you usually sought his guidance on what to order.

After you left the theatre, you felt awfully hungry. You hadn’t eaten dinner that night.

‘I am starving, is anyone else up for Pizza?’ you asked your three friends, including Cillian

‘We would love to, but only have a baby sitter until 9pm, sorry’ Amanda said, explaining that she and her husband had to head home fairly soon.

‘What about you Cilly?’ you asked.

‘I would love some Pizza, let’s go to Pizzinis’ he said.

Both you and Cillian said goodbye to your friends and made your way to Pizzinis.

As usual, it was packed and there were no table available.

‘Wanna grab them take away and go back to my place? I’ve got wine and you can show me this new album you were talking about earlier’ you said.

‘Sounds good, let’s do that’ Cillian said before ordering two pizzas.

More than Friends

You arrived at your apartment about 30 minutes later and Cillian put on some music. He found this new Irish band he liked and you were really keen to hear them.

‘Hmm Indie…I like it’ you said as he connected his i-phone to your speakers.

‘Wine?’ you asked as you grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf.

‘Yes please and thanks’ Cillian said as he put the pizzas on the table.

‘I was meant to ask you, how was your Valentine’s date?’ Cillian asked before taking the first bite of the pizza.

‘Oh god, don’t remind me on it please’ you said with a laugh.

‘That good ey? What happened?’ Cillian laughed.

‘He was weird. He basically left after I told him about Max’ you responded.

‘I think that sometimes guys your age might be a bit freaked out by the fact that you have child. I can’t say that I blame them. I couldn’t imagine myself becoming a step father when I was in my 20s’ Cillian said.

‘He was 32’ you responded.

‘Well maybe he was just weird and you are just unlucky when it comes to dating’ Cillian laughed.

‘Yeah, maybe…I am just over dating’ you said…’What about your date?’ you asked.

‘Pretty average. I mean she was nice but had no sense of humour’ Cillian said.

‘Oh what, wait…she didn’t laugh at your Irish jokes?’ you laughed.

‘Outrageous I know. I mean how could she not?’ Cillian joked.

‘Here is to failed dates’ you said as you held up your wine glass for a toast.

‘To failed dates’ Cillian responded with smile.

Over the next hour or so, Cillian and you finished both pizzas and talked about books, including the book you were currently writing, music and embarrassing things your kids had done.

Quite music was playing in the background by then while you talked and laughed together until Cillian brought up a specific book he had read recently, written by a writer named J A Hanson, which he said reminded him on you in a way.

‘I have read all of her books and I really wish I could write romance as well as her’ you said.

‘Her books aren’t exactly romantic’ Cillian responded.

‘Her storylines aren’t romantic, but the character she uses in all of her books involves herself romantically with several other characters throughout the series. The way she writes makes you relate to the character even in these intimate moments’ you explained.

‘She is 60 and probably speaking from experience. I have read in a paper a few months back that she had quite an interesting and adventurous youth in the 70s and 80s’ Cillian said.

‘Free Love…Yeah, I have read this too’ you laughed. ‘Perhaps I just need some inspiration to get over my block, otherwise I will never finish this damn novel’ you said as you poured yourself some more wine.

‘You don’t have to answer this, but when was the last time that…?’ Cillian asked and, before he could finish his question, you interrupted him.

‘That I had sex? Gosh…well over a year ago’ you responded, causing Cillian’s chin to drop.

‘Over a year? Seriously? I mean, surely, a woman like you would get plenty of offers…’ Cillian said, not knowing what else to tell you.

‘A woman like me? What do you mean by that Cilly?’ you asked with a slight giggle.

‘Well, you are attractive, smart and funny. You would get a fair bit of interest’ Cillian responded.

‘So, you think I am attractive?’ you asked with a smirk, causing Cillian to choke slightly on his wine. He regretted what he had said almost instantly, causing awkwardness between you.

‘Well yeah, I think you are an attractive woman’ Cillian said quietly. ‘In a totally objective way of course’ he added, while, just in this moment, you observed his facial expressions.

You observed him drop his eyes to your lips as he said it, and then lower to the place where your shirt opens at the collar, the buttons undone to below your collarbone.

He pressed his lips together. ‘I think I should probably get go…’ he said, and, before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in and kissed him suddenly, like the peck you give a boy you like on the school bus the second before you jump up and get off – a brief bravery without a plan.

He was caught by surprise.

‘Y/N’ he said and, before he could say something else, you apologised to him for what just happened.

‘I am sorry Cilly, I don’t know what just came over me’ you said.

‘It’s alright, I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was inappropriate’ Cillian said.

But, with Cillian’s response, you couldn’t leave it alone and asked ‘So, you don’t think that I am attractive?’ you asked, giggling slightly with some embarrassment.

‘Any man who thinks that you aren’t attractive is clearly blind. But, with that being said, it doesn’t matter what I think, you are 18 years younger than me and it would be wrong for us to take this further. Despite, I don’t want to fuck up our friendship’ Cillian said calmly.

You didn’t know what to say to his comment and, instead of using any words, you ran your hand gently over the side of his perfect face while biting your lip.

‘Just one kiss between friends then, we can blame the red wine after’ you whispered as a comfortable hot feeling washed over you. You felt some sort of attraction towards Cillian since the moment you met him, but didn’t want to admit it to yourself, let alone to him.

‘I don’t know Y/N’ Cillian said as you leaned closer towards him and pressed your lips onto his. You knew he was reluctant but he didn’t push you away.

To the contrary, as you kissed him, his hand came up in a rush to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Within seconds, his tongue slipped between your lips, whispering over your teeth and began dancing with your tongue.

You noticed the brush of his stubble on your cheek, the press of his lips on yours and the way his mouth tasted, a mix of minty gum and red wine.

It shouldn’t have been so hot, but it was. The taste of him, the smell and flavour, and it made you whimper in your throat. You knew this was one off and you didn’t want this moment to end.

‘Are you ok?’ he asked after he pulled back a little and paused. He was scanning your eyes and there was a cautious considering from his side. You could tell that he was surprised about what had just happened.

‘Yeah, you?’ you said as you couldn’t help yourself but stare into his baby blue eyes.

‘Yes’ he said as he cleared his throat slightly.

There was an awkward silence in the room and you couldn’t stand it.

You build up all of your courage again and leaned over him, pressing your lips onto his once more.

Cillian didn’t hesitate then.

His tongue slipped right back into the same spot than before, before his lips then moved over your face and down to your neck, leaving gentle bites and kisses.

Cillian’s hands were busy touching you at the same time his lips were trailing over your neck.

One of his hands was in your hair at the back of your head while his other hand was moving down to press the small of your back so that your body was pulled forward into his.

As you were exchanging passionate kisses, you could feel the shape of him, the firmness of his body against yours, your legs pressing into his and his chest pressing into your breasts. You could also feel his erection through his jeans, hard as anything, rigid and warm against your tummy.

By this time, you wanted more than just kisses.

‘Sleep with me, just that once’ you whispered.

‘I can’t Y/N, you are 24, it is not right’ Cillian said pulling away from you.

‘It’s just sex Cilly, I am old enough for that’ you laughed.

‘Yes, but I don’t want this to ruin our friendship’ Cillian said.

‘It won’t. There are no strings attached, it’s just sex. Unless you don’t want me’ you responded. ‘Although I think you do’ you giggled as you ran your hand over his pants, feeling his erection.

Your comment made Cillian chuckle.

‘This is a one off, alright?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘One off…and it stays our little secret’ you said before smashing your lips back onto his for another minute or two.

After you exchanged more passionate kisses you stood up.

‘Common, I show you my bedroom’ you said cheekily, taking his hand and guiding him towards the bed.

‘Can you help me with this please’ you asked, turning around to face the bed. Your back was now facing Cillian and you pulled your hair aside so that he can open the zipper of your dress.

Cillian unzipped your dress carefully, exposing your black lace underwear.

As you pushed your dress down onto the floor, Cillian began kissing your back and neck, while running his hands over your breasts and stomach, all the way down in between your legs.

You let out a brief moan before turning around to face him and help him pull his t-shirt over his head, exposing his perfectly shaped biceps.

Looking into his eyes, your hand glided gracefully, for once, past Cillian’s belt buckle and into the holy crevice of his Calvin Klein briefs. His cock was hard and ready.

You moved it between my your slowly, relishing his obvious eagerness.

You used the other hand to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, shortly after which he pushed them down to the floor while your other hand never left his warm and hard cock.

After the jeans came off, Cillian pressed his lips back onto yours while using his skilled hands to unclip the back of your bra. The bra also landed on the floor within seconds.

‘Lie down’ he whispered into your ear. You obliged and crawled onto the bed, facing him.

He loomed over you, climbing on to the bed as you scooted backwards further so that he could straddle your hips while you pushed up against him, wanting the rub and friction against you.

Cillian kissed you passionately as one of his hands moved in between your legs.

He could feel your body tensing up as he ran his fingers over the top of your panties

After all, he knew that it had been a while since you’ve been with anyone. He knew to take it slow and give you some reassurance.

‘Just relax’ he whispered into your ear with his thick Irish accent as he edged his fingers over the lace of your panties, his hand leisurely rubbing up and down the length of your squirming crotch, until he pulled your underwear aside and slipped two fingers inside of you.

You could feel your mouth widen and a loud moan escaped you as he teased the full mound of your clit. The stroke of his thumb was purposeful and steady on your firm, dripping pulse while his fingers plunged in and out of you, sinking further and further.

You held onto him tightly as the slipperiness he found made it easy for him to penetrate you with his fingers. You were so wet.

You shuddered at the pattern, shocked to find it could still stun you, unlocking newfound levels of moisture and desire, even when you began to meet the repetition of his thrusts. You naturally tilted and buckled beneath him.

As he was pushing his fingers in and out of you, he trailed kisses down your neck while your hands clutched at his shoulders, scratched down his back, held him tighter to you as I screamed into his skin.

Cillian’s breath grew more desperate and rugged.

‘It seems like we should take these off’ he said, causing you to nod with anticipation.

‘Don’t move’ Cillian ordered as he lowered himself on the bed while removing your lace undies.

Within seconds, Cillian’s lips were an inch away from your crotch, where he painted your inner thigh with tiny and soft kisses.

Cillian pushed your legs apart gently and you knew what would be next. You have read about this many times but this was the first time any man had gone down on you before and you were nervously biting your lip.

You tried hard to relax as Cillian’s lips finally reached your entrance, tasting the evidence of how much you wanted him.

‘Oh god, fuck’ you moaned as his head dove between your legs. His tongue prodded you softly, short licks against your clit.

Instantly, all restraint and reservations you had vanished. You were relaxed completely as his tongue danced and writhed inside of you.

With each skillful stroke, your thighs clenched. But you still needed more and he read you just right; he didn’t stop as you pushed yourself up the bed. Instead, he held you steady, causing you to look down at him and watching his eyes widen as they met yours, reacting to the rush of your wetness.

‘Cillian, oh god…you need to stop, I am so close’ you moaned, not wanting it to be over. You never came more than once so you wanted to feel him inside of you first.

‘That’s good, just let go’ Cillian said quietly with a grin before he continued and slid two fingers back inside of you while whirling his tongue over your clit.

You couldn’t hold on any longer, no matter how hard you tried. Your exhales began to emerge as deepening sighs and you leaned my head back and lived out the fantasy that had flashed through your mind all along.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned as your back arched and a rush of ecstasy flew through your body. You grabbed onto Cillian’s hair as he sucked every drip from you as your orgasm flooded your body.

As you came down from your orgasm, Cillian shuffled himself back up the bed, kissing you passionately.

You could taste yourself on his lips and you were ready for more.

‘I want to feel you’ you whispered after your lips drifted apart and while reaching for Cillian’s hard cock.

‘Do you have a condom?’ he asked, causing you to nod. You had purchased some before your Valentine’s Date, just in case you needed them.

You reached for the bedside table and opened the pack of condoms, handing one to Cillian.

Cillian was quick to get rid of his briefs and put on the condom, before positioning himself on top of you, in between your legs.

He shuddered a great rushing gasp of breath as he entered you. He couldn’t believe how good you felt, so tight.

You felt him push into you then, slowly and carefully, filling you completely.

‘Cillian’ you moaned as you held onto him tightly as he slowly began to move.

With every thrust, you gasped, whimpered, soft mewling noises, begging for more.

You felt him all the way to your belly button and screamed out with pleasure, your hands taking the heat as he thrusted fast and deep.

As he picked up his pace, you got louder, groans becoming moans becoming shouts, and the bed frame thumped against the wall, louder and faster and louder and faster.

‘Oh god, don’t stop’ you moaned, his skin slapping against yours.

‘You are so beautiful’ Cillian said in between his moans before pulling out of you slowly and lifting up your legs above his shoulders.

He knew exactly that, this way, he would be reaching your g-spot while he was fucking you.

You were slightly surprised by this position but were flexible enough to run with it.

As he entered you again slowly, you let out a loud moan.

‘Fuck’ you moaned in between the high-pitched noises that escaped you.

‘Does this feel alright?’ Cillian asked, wanting to ensure that you are comfortable.

You nodded eagerly and whimpered a shaky ‘yes’ as he continued to thrust into you. He was right at your g-spot and you could barely control yourself.

He slowly picked up the speed and you could feel another orgasm coming on as the tip of his cock kept hitting your g-spot over and over again.

‘Cillian, oh my god, don’t stop…’ you moaned as you held onto his arms tightly.

You began to shake heavily as your orgasm washed over you and tears of joy escaped your eyes.

‘Fuck, Y/N’ Cillian groaned loudly as he felt your walls tightening around him. The sensation coupled with the sounds you were making sent him over the edge and he almost came in sync with you.

As soon as he came, you released your legs from his shoulders and he collapsed on top of you, kissing you passionately.

You could still feel Cillian pulsing inside you when the sudden oddness of what you had done washed over you.

‘Are we ok?’ Cillian asked as he slowly pulled out of you and removed the condom, disposing of it discreetly.

‘I think so’ you said shyly.

‘Good…because I really enjoyed this’ Cillian said as he ran one of his hands over your cheek gently.

‘Me too…plus, I’ve got some inspiration for my book now’ you said cheekily.

‘I am glad to having been of assistance. Make sure you credit me in the end notes’ Cillian said jokingly.

‘Hmm, if I did, it may become a best seller…Sex Scene Inspired by Cillian Murphy’ you said with laughter, causing Cillian to laugh also.

‘I should better get home’ Cillian said as he was playing with your hair. He really didn’t want to leave, but he felt as though it was inappropriate for him to stay the night.

‘You can stay here if you like…’ you offered, but Cillian declined.

After all, this was supposed to be a one off. You are nothing more than friends, or are you?

You accepted Cillian’s decision to leave and weren’t upset by it. You enjoyed your time with Cillian and slept well that night, snugging up in the doona which smelled like his aftershave.

Finishing the Book

The next morning, you got up early to begin writing the intimate chapter of your book. This was the chapter you had struggled with for a while and you finally felt comfortable writing it. If readers would know that, in this particular scene of your book, you were basically reliving your night with your friend, Cillian Murphy, that would be scandalous.

So, you decided to make sure that no one would ever find out about your little adventure.

Unfortunately for you, your grandma seemed to have a good sense of what was going on.

She was on time as usual and dropped Max back at your house at 10am.

‘Had a good night my dear? I can see you are working on your book.’ She said.

‘Yes nan, the play last night was lovely. It has given me some inspiration’ you said.

‘The play has given you some inspiration to write about orgasms?’ your grandmother asked with laughter as she read the screen on your lap top.

‘Nan! Oh my god, don’t read what I am writing’ you said with embarrassment.

‘Oh dear, it’s alright. Believe it or not, I used to write novels myself with a little hint of filth now and then. But, somehow, I don’t think that it was the play that gave you the inspiration to write this little naughty chapter. By looking at the bruises on your neck, perhaps it was your friend Mr Murphy who gave you this inspiration?’ your grandmother said with sarcasm.

‘Nan, no Jesus, please’ you said as your face became flushed.

‘Don’t be embarrassed dear’ your grandmother said. ‘It is good for you. I mean, he is handsome and I saw the way you looked at him yesterday evening…and the way he looked at you’ your grandmother continued.

‘There is nothing between us nan, we are just friends’ you explained with total embarrassment.

‘Alright dear, whatever you say’ your grandmother said, not believing a single word that came out of your mouth.

‘I better go, I have lunch with Alma later… I love you my dear’ your grandmother said before heading out of the door.

‘Love you too nan’ you said.

WHO WANTS A SECOND PART OF THIS?

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy imagine #smut #fanfic

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Worst Firsts

You and Colson go on Worst First with Brittany Furlan and Tommy Lee.

Request: “Have Colson(mgk) and reader (who are dating) go on worst first with brittany furlan(lee).LOVE YOUR WORK!!!❤❤”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, talk of sex (no actual smut)

Word Count: 1684

“Hello all you fine folks out there and welcome back to Worst Firsts. Boy oh boy do we have the show for you today. First off, we have my husband, Tommy Lee, with us here.” Colson banged on the table as you gave out a small cheer. Brittany continued, a small laugh sent in your direction, “We brought our favorite Tommy Lee two-point-O Machine Gun Kelly back on the show today!” You cheered for your boyfriend as Tommy banged on the table. “And for her first time on the show, we have the wonderful Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!” Colson shouted for you as Tommy continued banging on the table. “Thank you guys so much for coming, thank you for coming back Colson. I am so excited you guys are here today.”

“I love bein’ here.” Colson said into the mic, shooting Brittany a smile.

“When you asked us to come on, I was so fucking excited.” You said, Colson nodding with you.

“For real, bro. She was off the walls.”

Brittany continued, speaking to her audience, “If you guys didn’t know, Gunner here played Tommy in The Dirt way back in 2019, which released right before you two met, am I right?”

You smiled lightly, a slight heat rushing to your cheeks as the focus turned to you and Colson. Luckily, he answered for you, “yeah, we met literally like maybe 3 days after the premiere. That was such a sick time in my life.”

“Dude, I bet. You release a kick ass movie and then turn around and meet-“ Tommy started, Colson cutting him off to finish his sentence.

“The love of my life, yeah.” You smiled bashfully, Colson’s arm finding its way around you and pulling you into his side.

Brittany smiled at you two, Tommy’s hand reaching over to grab hers under the table. “So, this show is all about first times and, while normally we would talk about worst firsts, I gotta know how you two met.”

“It’s honestly not much of a story,” you began, “Netflix had this party and we were both invited because we both had movies out on Netflix. I went up to him at the bar because I thought he was hot and we started talking and now, uh, we’re here.” Colson nodded as you recounted the memory.

“I was trying so hard not to fuck anything up though, because literally the entire night before she came up to me, I was trying to figure out how to talk to her.” Your boyfriend said, red on his cheeks.

Brittany sent you a mischievous smile, “so what happened after that? Did you give him your number, did he ask you out, something else?” The inflection in her voice and the wiggle of her eyebrows let you in on exactly what else she thought you might have done.

“Something along the lines of something else.” You said, a smile playing on your lips. Colson threw his head back in laughter. Tommy nodded with pride at you two.

‘Speaking of something else.” Colson began, making you look up to him in both confusion and panic, “This is all about worst firsts, right?”

“What are you about to say?” You asked him, a warning in your voice.

He giggled, “remember the first time we had sex in public?”

Brittany’s eyes went wide, “you two did what?”

Tommy asked, “first time?”

You leaned into Colson’s side, a blush rising to your face. “That was literally the most awkward experience of my entire life.”

Colson laughed at the expressions of the older couple, “okay, basically we were on tour in the middle of butt fuck nowhere and there was nothing in this town. No bars, no clubs, nothing.”

You continued his story, “but there was this tiny carnival. So, after the show we went in hope of something fun happening.”

Tommy laughed, “well something fun certainly happened.”

“After about an hour in we were bored and she was only gonna be on tour for a few more days.” Colson said, “so we figured we should make the most out of the lame ass carnival. And then we found it.”

“the photobooth.” You said, watching Brittany’s jaw drop.

“Him, I expect this from.” She pointed at Colson, “but you?”

You giggled, nodding your head, “It was her idea!” Colson exclaimed over your laughs.

“I hadn’t seen him in almost two months and was only on tour for two weeks, I had to make up for lost time and this was the only place that we could get any semblance of privacy.” You said, shoving Colson lightly as he grinned proudly at you.

“Wait so did you two get caught?” Tommy asked, intrigued.

Colson answered, “we didn’t get caught, per say, but as we were leaving this family came up to the booth. And I mean, there’s not a great way to hide that you’ve just had sex. We tried, but people still know.”

Brittany and Tommy laughed, the latter banging his hand on the table as he did so. “The look on that mother’s face. I thought she was gonna call the cops or something.” You said.

“Was it at least good?” Brittany asked to which Colson replied,

“we were in a photobooth, Brittany. No.”

Tommy chuckled, “I’m sure it was better than doing it on the tour bus.”

Your eyes went wide and a laugh tumbled from your mouth as you recalled the first time you and Kells had had sex on the tour bus. “We do not need to talk about that.” He looked down at you as he spoke, a look of warning in his eyes.

“Oh yes we do.” Brittany said, looking at you to speak.

“There’s not much to it, but as I’m sure you can imagine, the bunks are not the most spacious of beds. And Colson here is a six-foot-four giant who barely fits in the bunk as it is.” You began, giggling as Colson’s glare hardened on you. “Let’s just say Kells almost got a concussion because he hit his head so hard.”

Brittany laughed as Tommy spoke, “sex in the bus is difficult, dude. I get it.”

“Why didn’t you just go on top?” Brittany asked you.

Colson grumbled, “because she was “tired from her flight” and “didn’t want to get hurt.”” He used air quotes as he mimicked your words from the night, making Brittany and Tommy laugh.

“I sat on a plane for 9 hours to see you, the least you can do is top.” You said, shrugging as Colson let out a silent chuckle. “But yeah, it was not good.”

You continued to talk about other first times you’d had. You told the couple about your first kisses when you were younger, retelling the story of your first kiss in middle school when your braces got stuck on the poor kid’s lip.

Then Colson recounted the story of the first time you both went out on a boat together. “For context,” you started, “I am terrified of the ocean. I can swim but I refuse to go into any water that isn’t a pool.”

“We were out there with a couple of our friends and she was staying as far away from the edge of the boat as possible. And then some of our homies tried to pull her towards the edge and she freaked the fuck out.”

You pouted, “you fucking laughed the entire time it was not funny.”

“It was!” He exclaimed, “you were pulling away like a little kid.” You glared at him, “but, for the record because people are gonna think I’m a bad boyfriend, I made them stop. And then I dragged her towards the edge myself and made her sit with me.”

You then told the story of the first time you’d gotten a call from the hospital to come get Kells. “I was unaware that this was a normal thing. So, when I get a call at 4 am that he’s in the ER I was kind of freaking out. And then I get there and him and Rook are just sitting there messing around like two little kids.”

Colson chuckled, rubbing his face with his hands, “you were so worried when you first came in and then as soon as you saw us you got so annoyed.”

“What did you guys do that got you in the ER?” Brittany asked.

You deadpanned, “they were throwing knives around and Colson nearly cut off his finger.”

Tommy nodded, “nice.”

After a few more firsts, Brittany asked the final first worst, “what was the first or worst fight you guys got in?”

You looked at your boyfriend, trying to figure out what fight he’d pick. “The first big fight we got into was that night at the hospital that we mentioned earlier.” He said and you nodded in agreement. “Which I was totally in the wrong about.”

“Yeah. We got home and I literally couldn’t talk to him without wanting to scream.” You said.

Tommy tilted his head, “were you mad that he had gotten hurt or that he called you so late?”

You shook your head, “I was more frustrated than anything. Like I was fucking panicking because I thought something really bad had happened and he was treating it like a joke. But we talked about it and obviously we’re fine now.” You said smiling up at your boyfriend.

He grabbed your hand under the table, squeezing gently. “Yeah. That was also the first night I told you I loved you.” He said, nudging your shoulder with his own.

You rolled your eyes, nudging him back, “yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sentimental on me now.” You said, giggling silently.

Brittany and Tommy watched you, smiling like proud parents. “Alright folks, we’re gonna end this podcast here. Thank you guys so much for tuning in, thank you guys for coming.” She motioned to you two, “It’s always so nice to see you guys, love catching up with you. If you’re not already subscribed, you should do that. Leave a like, a comment, whatever you want.”

#Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #mgk x reader #colson imagine

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thejudgingtrash · 3 years ago

Note

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!” Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

#mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #Annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth fanfic #may I introduce you to my beloved wife #mel writes #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy and annabeth #pjo fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians #mel spoils

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