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sisterspooky1013 · 4 years ago

Text

As Ethan Sees It

Author:SisterSpooky1013

Rating: Mature

Words: 3698

Read it on AO3 Here

Tagging @today-in-fic

The first thing I’d noticed about her was how self-assured she was, particularly in contrast to her diminutive stature. I’d been grabbing lunch at a local deli between classes and some high school kids were picking on a third boy who may have been a classmate. Everyone in line was just ignoring it, looking away, when this tiny redhead steps out of line and walks up to the tallest, bulkiest guy in the group and tells him to fuck off, in so many words. She barely reached his shoulder and was probably 100lbs soaking wet, but she had no problem standing up for the little guy. After I picked up my order, I noticed her sitting alone at a table near the window and asked if I could join her. She was hesitant, but agreed and listened politely while I told her how impressed I was by her bravado with those kids. That’s when I noticed the second thing about her; her incredible smile. It was like the first burst of sunlight over the horizon in the morning, blinding in its beauty. I introduced myself and learned that her name was Dana, and she had just moved to DC to accept a job with the FBI. We talked for so long I missed my class, but I didn’t care. I was fascinated by her. Aside from being strikingly beautiful with rich auburn hair and porcelain skin, her blue eyes some intoxicating shade of blue I had never seen before, she was also wickedly smart. She seemed to know about everything, any topic that came up she could speak to, and I learned more during that 90 minute conversation than I probably would have if I’d made it to class. She was a doctor, and a scientist, and even the way her voice sounded was enchanting to me, the S’s softly sibilant as they poured from her pouty pink lips. She had realized the time and stood suddenly to leave, and I was so flustered by our impromptu date ending so abruptly that I stupidly forgot to get her phone number. The sinking feeling in my gut when I realized this fact, right about the time her cab disappeared into a sea of other cabs, still ranks as one of the worst moments of my life.

I thought about her every single day for two weeks. I talked about her every single day for two weeks, until my roommates begged me to either figure out a way to get in touch with her, or shut the hell up. All I knew about her was her first name, that she had recently graduated from Stanford, and that she works at the FBI. First I tried calling the FBI and asking for Dana, but they had more than one Dana who worked there and were unwilling to let me try them one by one. Next I contacted Stanford and was able to have a list of the last two classes of graduates faxed to me. Thankfully, there was only one Dana on that list; Dana Scully. I called back to FBI headquarters and asked for Dana Scully, and the next thing I knew she was on the line, her sing-song voice saying “This is Dana Scully.” My mouth went dry, I forgot how to speak, how to breathe.

“Uh, um, hi, hello.”

“…Who is this?” Her tone was the one I’d heard her use with the high school bullies

“Uh, this is Ethan? From the deli, a couple weeks ago?”

“Ethan from the deli? The guy who’s getting his masters in journalism?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“Oh! Hi! How…how did you get this number?”

“Well, I hope this isn’t too weird but I forgot to ask for your number and I remembered you said you worked at the FBI, so I kind of tracked you down.”

“Oh. That’s kind of sweet.”

I let out huge breath of relief.

“I’d really like to see you again, if you’re interested. It’s alright if not, I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least ask.”

She was quiet for a moment but he had a feeling she was smiling.

“I’d love to, Ethan. Do you have something to write with? I’ll give you my number.”

**********************************

The first real date we had, I took her to a fancy Italian place that my buddies said was sufficiently romantic. She let me pick her up at her apartment in Georgetown and when she answered the door, I nearly passed out. She had on a strapless blue cocktail dress and tall black heels, her hair down and soft around her face. Her lips were red and plump and I wanted to kiss her right then, but I knew it was too soon. I held doors for her and watched closely for her reaction, unsure if she was the kind of woman who found chivalry insulting, but she seemed to appreciate it. She was so petite and delicate, like a beautiful bird, but also had this incredible air of confidence that made her so captivating. I was careful not to outright stare at her, so I didn’t make her uncomfortable. She told me more about herself as we ate, what she had studied in school and the things she was doing now at the FBI academy, working in forensics. She asked me about my school and my plans for after graduation, and she really listened when I talked, asking thoughtful questions and wanting to learn more about journalism and broadcasting, so eager to know as much as possible about everything she could. I told some stupid joke, and she laughed, and I think that’s when I fell in love with her. That laugh worked its way into my bones, vibrated in my blood stream and sent a shiver down my spine. I had to imagine that the only reason she was single was that she was so new to the area, because a woman like this was never single for long. I didn’t want the night to end, so I asked her out to drinks afterward and to my delighted surprise she suggested that we have them back at her place. I didn’t want to assume anything, so I didn’t make a move, just talked with her more on her sofa, learned about her family and her childhood as an army brat, her love of reading and bubble baths, her fondness for children and animals. When she leaned in and kissed me, I thought that I may be hallucinating. Maybe I was having an intensely long, lucid dream. How did someone like Dana Scully cross my path of all the places on earth she might have been, and how did I have the nerve to approach her, and how was she interested in me, and how was it possible that right then she had her tongue in my mouth on her sofa?

We didn’t have sex that first night, but it wasn’t too long before we did. And it wasn’t too long after that that we decided to be exclusive, and 6 months later that I told her that I loved her. Two weeks after that, she said it back, and for two years, we were happy. It’s typically the case that when you’re newly in love with someone you have that divine infatuation that makes you see everything about them as perfect, but over time it wears off and the things that were once cute become annoying. That never happened with Dana. I was obsessed with her, everything she did was the most incredible thing a human could accomplish or be. Aside from the megawatt smile and musical laugh, she had this sweet little beauty mark on her lip that I loved to kiss. She was witty and skilled at debate, and we’d spend evenings arguing over something like the moon landing conspiracy before fucking like animals over the back of the couch. And the sex. Oh my god the sex. She was an absolute vixen in the way she played, teased, and ultimately delivered on every promise she made, and she would smile in this self-satisfied way when she came, looking me right in the eye like she’d tricked me out of my last dollar. She could be dominant, or dismissive, sometimes one then the other in the same night. She could be anything and everything, and she was.

I loved to hear her talk about her work and new assignments she was getting, and I was so proud of her and her goals and dreams. I wanted to be right beside her as she climbed the ranks at the bureau, and knew that she would be anything she set her mind to. She was equally supportive of me as I graduated and then worked my way up at a local broadcasting company with dreams of being a news anchor. She made me feel important and worthy, showed interest in the things that I cared about and was so loyal to me that she cussed out one of my friends for making jokes at my expense. We never moved in together technically (her choice) but we slept together at one or the other’s apartment every night, rented a movie every Friday, had dinner with her parents every Sunday. Her sister, who she was close to, seemed to like me okay, and her friend Ellen confided in me that she thought I should propose soon, that Dana was ready for that step. I picked out a ring, a slender gold band with a princess cut solitaire, only half a karat because I knew she didn’t like to be flashy, and hid it in my sock drawer. Our anniversary was coming up on March 23 and I decided to do it then, which was a little ways away, but I wanted it to be perfect.

For her birthday, I took her out to dinner and she had exciting news to share. She’d been offered an assignment with an obscure unit at the FBI, requested specifically by Section Chief Blevins for her background as a scientist. I didn’t fully understand what the unit did or why they’d want Dana for it, but it was something about unsolved mysteries, by the sound of it. She was so happy and felt like this was a great sign, her big break, the fact that Blevins even knew she existed and wanted her on this team was an indication of the reputation she was building for herself there. I bought a bottle of champagne, told her how proud I was and that I couldn’t wait to hear more about it. She let me know there would be travel, it was a field agent role, and that she’d be on the road sometimes. As much as I didn’t look forward to being away from her, I couldn’t help but share her excitement at this new step in her career. That night we had the most incredible birthday/promotion sex you could imagine. I made her come three times before she finally tapped out and told me how much she loved me, and how excited she was for the rest of our lives together, how much she appreciated that I understood that her career was important, and that I supported her. If we would have been at my place, I would have grabbed the ring and proposed to her right then, but we were at hers. So I just kissed her and told her that I was the luckiest man on earth because I had the opportunity to be her partner in life.

The first day of her new assignment, she was nervous. She’d heard some stories about the agent she was going to be working with, her partner, a guy named Mulder. He sounded like somewhat of an oddball, and a ladies man to boot. I made a joke about him staying away from my woman and she rolled her eyes, had me help her choose between the plaid suit or the maroon one, kissed me goodbye and told me that she loved me and I didn’t need to worry about this or any other male agent, or male person for that matter, stealing her away. That afternoon at the station I got a message from her saying that she had to fly out to Oregon for a case they were investigating, which caught me by surprise. She had said she’d be on the road, but I didn’t expect it to happen that fast. I heard from her only once in the three days she was gone, and when she came back, she was different.

It’s hard to explain in what way she changed. She was distracted, spacey, staring into nothing when we watched TV in the evening, not really listening to what I was saying when I told her about my day. She told me a little bit about the work she was doing, but she was suddenly guarded and defensive about what she did all day, most of her sentences starting with “Mulder says...” The phone would ring at odd times, she worked late or was out of town almost constantly. I felt her slipping away. I did all I could to make things easy for her when she was home. I did all the cleaning, all her laundry. I cooked her dinner each night, though half the time she would say that she had already eaten with Mulder. She didn’t seem as interested in kissing or sex, but she would let me go down on her and I did, every night, trying to hold on to her attention and her affection with my tongue on her clit. I tried to talk to her, to ask her what was wrong, if I should be doing anything differently, and she’d say “no, of course not. Everything’s fine, I’m just tired.”

Then it was our anniversary, and I made a reservation at the same place we’d gone to that very first time. I picked up flowers for her, dahlias which I knew she loved. I went by her apartment at the agreed upon time, but she didn’t answer the door. I used my key to enter and it was quiet and cold, no sign she’d been there anytime recently. I called her office at work and Mulder answered, said she was up at Quantico performing an autopsy and could he take a message. I just hung up the phone. I went to bed at her place, and when she finally crawled in at 3am she was startled to find me there. The way she looked at me made me feel like she’d forgotten I existed, and I didn’t even bother to remind her that it was our anniversary. I decided to start fresh the next morning, with a new plan. Maybe I was being too demanding, expecting too much. Maybe this Mulder was difficult to work with and she didn’t want to bother me with horror stories. I would just have to be the most supportive, accommodating, wonderful boyfriend possible, and we could come through this together. When I woke up, she was still snoring softly beside me. I slipped my head under the covers and pushed her legs open gently, sliding her nightgown up over her hips. She stirred and moaned as I pressed my lips to her clit, kissing her there before beginning to lap at her labia, two fingers sliding inside just how she liked it. She responded readily, flexing her hips and pushing her hands into my hair, and I flipped the blankets off my head so I could see her face. I loved the way she liked to watch me, to hold my eye as she went over the edge, so intensely intimate. To my disappointment, her eyes were closed, head back against the pillow. When she came, she didn’t look at me, didn’t say anything. I crawled back up to lie beside her and when her eyes met mine they were so full of sadness it sent me into a panic.

“Dana, what’s wrong?” I implored, seeing tears welling under her blue irises.

She shook her head and scooted up so that she was sitting with her back against the headboard.

“Ethan-“ her voice caught under a sob that she quickly swallowed down.

My stomach dropped. No, this can not be happening.

“Ethan” she began again. “I care about you so much.” Tears were falling now, trailing down her alabaster cheeks and dripping off of her angular chin. “I just don’t think I can give you what you need right now.”

My mind was racing, I looked around the room like there might be something, or someone, who could help me.

“I think it might be best if we took a break for a bit. Took some space from each other.”

I sat up on my knees and grabbed her arm, suddenly regretful that I had chosen to sleep naked.

“Dana, what are you talking about? We don’t need space. I don’t need space from you!”

She closed her eyes. “Ethan, it’s not fair to you. I can’t be available to you right now. My new assignment, I’m just so busy-“

“No, it’s okay, Dana. I know you work more now but I don’t mind, I’ll always be here when you come home. I support you, I support your work, you know that.”

Pulling her arm from my grasp, she stood and went to her dresser. Pulled on panties and then jeans before stripping off her nightgown and putting on a bra and sweater. “Ethan. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. It’s just not a good time for me, right now.”

“Is it that Mulder guy? Is he making moves on you?” I hated how desperate my voice sounded.

“No, Ethan. This has nothing to do with Mulder, he’s been nothing but professional. This is about me, and what I need right now. What I’m capable of. And I’m just not in a good place for a relationship, I’m sorry. I need some time.”

She was standing near her bedroom door, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She was ready to walk out.

“How much time? How much time do you need?”

She looked at the floor and whispered “I don’t know.”

I slid off the bed and went to her, dropped to my knees on the floor, wrapping my arms around her hips as I pressed the side of my head into her belly.

“Please don’t do this. We can work through it. I love you, I love you so much. I’ll do whatever you need, just tell me.” The humiliation of begging on my knees while nude makes my skin crawl to this day.

She put her hand on my head, petting my hair as she often did. I felt hot tears drip from her eyes and fall against my scalp. “What I need is for you to let me go” she finally said, and she sounded very sad but also very resolute.

“I’m going to go to my mothers for the day, and I’d like you to pack up the things you have here. You can leave your key on the table. I’ll call you soon, to see how you’re doing, okay?”

“Dana, no, I won’t let you go. Please let me try to make this better.” I clung to her like a child, physically keeping her from leaving me. She crouched down and kneeled in front of me, taking my face in her hands. She kissed me softly on the lips, once.

“You have been a wonderful boyfriend, Ethan. You have loved me so well. I don’t want you to think that this is your fault, okay? You are the best. I just can’t be with someone right now. I know you’ll be okay.”

She stood and walked out of her apartment, pausing once at the door to look back at me, naked and destroyed on the floor in her bedroom doorway, and then she was gone.

She didn’t call me, not in a day or a week or a month. She deleted me from her life like a file she no longer needed. I didn’t know how to explain to my friends what had happened, because I didn’t really know myself. I thought about her every day, ate at restaurants around her work and apartment hoping to catch sight of her, so we could chance a meeting and maybe she’d be willing to talk. When I finally did see her, it was at a sandwich shop a few blocks from the Hoover building. She walked in looking like…well an FBI agent. Now in a black, tailored skirt suit that fit her perfectly, her hair cut shorter and more styled, her heels tall and her posture confident. A man was with her, and my stomach turned at his hand on her back, the familiar way they stood close as they waited in line. He was remarkably tall with dark features, handsome in a kind of mysterious way. I wondered if that was Mulder, assumed that it was. They sat down and I watched her face, the intensity in her eyes and the curl at her lip, recognized the way her features danced as she talked about something she found interesting, the rapturous way she listened while her male counterpart spoke. I remembered when she used to look at me that way. She must have felt my eyes on her because she looked at me suddenly, registering surprise and then sadness, offering me a tiny wave as the man turned to see who she was looking at. I gathered the rest of my sandwich and chucked it in the trash can as I stalked out, suddenly having lost my appetite. I wanted to hate her, to be angry at her betrayal, her abandonment. I wanted to hate him, for taking her from me. All I could muster was the same hallow acceptance that I had my chance, and somehow let it slip away. I just hope that he appreciates her smile as much as I do.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #xf fanfic

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popcornbutterflymedia · 3 years ago

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the teen show genre is back. that it had announced it’s grand return at such a time of deep uncertainty and unimaginable loss, especially for an entire generation of teenagers, is relief, respite, and a necessary and urgent gain. there is nothing but gratitude for this...for its intended audience and for those of us who will live vicariously through the lives of the kids, for those of us who will watch, and walk with the kids. for someone like me who longs to feel strongly about a story enough to write again.

despite my ‘desperate begging’ for the return of the youth oriented show. i did not picture this. in my defense, i did not know about this story at all. now, when i did learn the gist of the story, i did not expect much. it is, after all, a trope we’ve repeatedly seen in practically every language. in my defense, again, i would have found this show, and watched it anyway, in support of the network, probably be mildly entertained, slightly amused, and successfully distracted. and that would have been enough. i was bound to find this show, though during a deep dive into the youtube rabbit hole, chancing upon a japanese doll and an american cutie, realizing the creative team for this show is that creative team. my favorite creative team. i was sold.

i knew i was going to love this show enough to write. the question is, how? do i live tweet, take notes, and write a post for every episode, or do i live tweet take notes, listen, take notes and write one big post at the end of the series? judging by how much detail i know this team puts into a story in the form of metaphors, seeds, pay offs, connection and clues, clearly obvious in this first episode alone, this calls for an episodic post, for the peace of my own nerdy, detailed obsessed mind.

it is worth repeating that i haven’t read the book. this focuses on the series alone. no references, no comparison to its source material.

and it begins. oddly so.

first, a note on the casting: my attachment to a show is dependent on my attachment to the cast of the show. i spent the weeks and months leading up the pilot episode learning as much as i can about this refreshing cast of newbies. i’d been watching rise since it began, and so it wasn’t difficult to develop a soft spot for the five rise kids who are part of the show. as for the rest of the cast, their interviews and streams are all surprisingly impressive. i always like to say ‘walang patapon sa mga batang ito.’ none at all. they are all so special that i am in awe of how many gifted children are in one batch at one time, in time for a show like this. the teen show slot was vacant because it was waiting for these specific kids.

everyone who was given moments on this episode made the most of their moments. episode one’s surprises were criza, who is a natural. i am just grateful naih was able to use all of criza’s kulit energy. gelo, i’ve known is funny, but it wasn’t until i saw him in character that i realized just how hysterical he is. i enjoyed his interaction with ysay, i am wondering if there is more of that. v no longer surprises. i find that she is incredibly underrated still. i love that girl. fictional life sometimes clouds my judgement, ever so slightly, but these mean girls, are the mean girls i would cheer for. i’ve just been enjoying the girls’ junket interviews so much that it is also a joy to watch them in character. aimee is spunky, sophie is incredibly poised. khloe is a joy to watch, and ash just fits in, dalia...i have never seen a girl with such strong presence and beauty since hopie. i have never enjoyed watching a local queen bee as much as i feel i would enjoy, and hate to watch kim. dalia is amusing to watch too, so there’s that. joao, you know i have always found reliable and competent. limer, i am just happy an actor like him is in a show as big as this. kaorys is my in on this show. they are favorites. i adore them. she registers well on camera, and rhys is music to my ears, and has such an animated, expressive face. i cannot wait to watch their subplot and write about them in detail. i am attached to these kids. i know they are going to be a joy to watch.

melizza, melizza deserves her own paragraph. i first paid attention to when she was answering those miss universe questions on rise, and my jaw literally dripped at how intelligent she is. that intelligence shines through in her portrayal of elle. she is self-aware, and aware of her co-stars in a scene. she is conscious of where she is in a scene. she does she is a realiable actress in that there is no fear that she will break character it doesn’t have to be her scene, but i cannot help but watch her. she isn’t a scene stealer, but she is always acting, always reacting. she gets the assignment: from speaking french to playing a nuanced mean girl whose meanness, is as she understands and plays elle, stems from fear, from being threatened. i actually love that. there is no real villain in this story, just kids navigating unfamiliar, ugly, strange feelings, with limited ways to express these feelings. melizza gets it. i said i am a melizza fan now. i mean it.

donny and belle individually: i had known of donny, watched him long enough to know him, and who his family is. since he started mostly on social media, this ate didn’t quite get the appeal. no offense, it’s just a generational thing. haha! when he started acting, he was like most greenhorns to me, appeal understandable, charming to an extent, but with still so much to learn. i missed his last acting stint before this show. i did not watch jpd.

belle is a going bulilit alum. that’s all i really need to know to trust the casting. i wasn’t a fan yet. i had no clue about the story so i did not know just how much weight the character carried, but by virtue of the fact that she’s been acting the longest out of the ensemble, i knew she knew what she would be doing. i knew the management knew what they were doing when they casted her. belle as the focal point of the story lends such an air of confidence that the story will be told well and that the necessary intimacies will be handled with care. belle’s ability to transform would make max’s arc effective. i did not watch jpd. i had heard about it.i had heard it was surprise. ‘the ending part...’ it was all too familiar: lizquen, circa 2012, must be love: ‘the ending...’

it was completely blind, complete trust.

their casting made me momentarily forget that there were multiple rounds of auditions, from which the each of the cast were carefully picked. it just seemed so random, that is, in context of say, kaori and rhys that could count kuya’s house as part of their shared history. so much of my acceptance of this new pairing depended on how much i trusted the team, and how i knew they worked. i then consumed any and all donbelle content i could find, which, at that time was painfully lacking. imagine the excitement when that first general assembly officially kicked off the hih junket, from then on, they started to grow on me.

these are two calm, cool, collected kids, with a kulit side for sure, but they both take their sweet time. there is a formality and wide open space that was begging to be bridged with these two. there were times i would will myself to see it. theirs isn’t an instant explosion of chemistry, but a sustained afterglow. once that was clear, the goal of sustaining this partnership for however long, how many other stories they can tell together, also became clearer.

it was the tv patrol interview by the lockers that had me sold. it was him joking that they were already married with three kids. it was the way he looked at her in that interview, the way he still does, with donbelle, it’s all the little, quiet things. i don’t know how to explain it, but if they were to jump into the emotional deep end together, i have no fear.

now, back to the beginning which i thought was strange. a recap of what i imagine is the entire first season, artistic as it may be, is one huge spoiler. i realized, this is based on a book. those who’ve read it obviously know what’s going to happen. such opening is meant to set the mood. it’s an invitation to emotionally invest. it’s safe to say, it accomplished those two goals, but i feel as though there is more to that opening. as someone who is clueless about the source material, it reassures that it doesn’t matter what we know, or don’t know, because this is less a story of ‘what?’ and more a story of ‘whys?’ and ‘hows?’this takes me back to the first general assembly when comparisons to the meteor garden, boys over flowers were brought up. i understand the comparisons, but now that the first episode has aired, i feel so strongly against it.

this introductory montage is proof that it is not about the pieces of the story, but how the pieces are moved around to tell a story, to give us a fresh new perspective of a trope, starring stereotypical characters. the story is told in retrospect, with our lead looking back, taking all the pieces of the whole apart, rather than building the story as she goes along (which is incidentally how i like to take in stories).

the introductory montage is a device that allows a more expanded storytelling. the story is told from max’s point of view. it’s a story of how she sees things, this makes her an unreliable narrator due to her blind spots and clouded judgement. as the story goes along, the audience sees that it is not only max’s story, it is deib’s as well, and the rest of the characters’ stories, max only sees the bigger picture in retrospect. because i am such a nerd, imagine my kilig when i realize why that choice for an opening was made? i may have screamed.

notes, questions, favorite moments.

belle’s ‘sigurado,’ the first 4-5 notes of the hooked sprinkled throughout the episode.

on the road: the transition from max on the trike and deib, in his car rushing through a countryside road, if that was clean editing, i’d celebrate it...that the two people were on the same road at the same time travelling different directions is the most clever storytelling moment thus far. i love when seeds are planted and pay offs are grand. it was hardly a meet cute, but it was some intense head on collision. okay, i got it just then, the accident was a literal representation of their metaphorical colliding. it was a lot of things for her: irritation, wonder, disturbance, fascination, disruption. it was a complicated mix for him too, except clouded by the rush of having to be somewhere else other than that moment. charged. electric. spark. lightning that escaped him. (yup. more on that later).

this encounter begs the question: what was deib doing there? why was he in a rush?

the airport scene: ‘hinihintay ka na ng kapalaran mo.’ a beautiful verbal sign of things to come.

meeting daddy: it’s what uncertainty does to max that i find so disarming her fidgeting the heart shaped pendant close to her chest, summoning said heart for strength, and grace, counting on the assurance of its familiarity.

the car conversation with dad: still disarming. charming. curious. that the necklace from which hangs her heart shaped confidante was actually her dad’s gift to her mom. how heartwarming is the thought that the one thing that makes her feel close to her mom is actually from her dad who she is meeting for what i assume is the first time? i think it’s a beautiful irony.

the dinner table scene. the family dynamic it established. elle’s french, max wrestling with the chopsticks on the side.

sleepless max. her hidden vulnerability, and with whom that vulnerability finds comfort. who is babu?

max’s fist at the school entrance, and elle calling her out on it.

the cafeteria scene, and how that whole moment is the selling point of the story - brave max who does not care for the social rules of her new school standing up to the bully who happens to look the way he does. i won’t say she’s unaffected, but at that point her view is clouded with the injustice she just witnessed, that is until they recognize each other. as a side note: ysay and lorde’s interaction made me smile.

the aftermath. max has now caught the attention of the whole school, she has caught the attention of the mean girls so much so that walking down the halls is social suicide. when aimee confronted her, (sophie did so well!) my eyes looked for elle’s eyes. there were layers upon layers of emotion there: shame, hesitation, confusion, fear, maybe anger, there was a flash of her wanting to connect too, or did i just imagine it?

the gym scene with all the boys. it’s probably my favorite...not really, but it’s the scene that gave me so much, the scene that proved to me that this is more than just a simple, one dimensional teen show. this one moment spawned so many fan theories online that i have yet to read. it’s interesting when we cross that bridge, but to me for now, it is from this point up to the debate that kind of turned the tables, and gave the story a sudden depth that’s unexpected. it made the audience pay attention to deib as well, that this is as much his story too. and on the aspect of change, in one interview (i can’t remember which one), i remember belle describing max as someone who wants to change the people around her, and through that, she is changed as well. i did not understand what she meant at that time, until this. and the debate.

the debate: i just love the debate, simply because i love words, but long-winded dialogue like that is risky especially on a show like this. i loved it. i loved the rhythm, poetry, and point of it. i love how layered it is. i loved how comfortable was delivering his lines. i did not cringe, which just means he has gotten better at this whole acting thing, and it’s always a joy to watch someone breakthrough. this moment was necessary as a springboard to the next scene, to show that the rivalry isn’t just a physical one, but a rivalry of the minds too. (i enjoyed that that was pointed out in one of the kumu lives) this is also one of the scenes that proved what the introductory montage was trying to establish: that max is an unreliable narrator, that there are things she doesn’t see. i would say the tables have turned, and it has, but we also discovered that deib has always been the romantic, and max the realist. at that moment we know that max will be changed irrevocably. that ending took the wind out of me. that hurt, but it was thrilling too, made me excited for things to come.

‘love is like lightning.’ poor deib doesn’t know he has been struck by lightning, and is prone to the electricity of one. he doesn’t know it yet because of the gray sky gloom of his shattered heart.

the kiss is everything, it was shocking, kilig and all that, but in context of the story, it is more appealing more kilig to think of all the interactions that lead up to that accidental kiss, all the pent up tension in those interactions that is channeled into that meeting of lips. oh gosh! it just occurred to me, this kiss was predicated by such a verbose exchange just to prove a point, to win. it only took this kiss to shut both max and deib up. i would say there are no winners here. they are both losers to love. except. it’s still to early to call it, right?

in terms of the team up: implied as it is, this is what i mean when i say, i am unafraid for these two to go there, when necessary. there is such a safety i sense between donny and belle, in the way they care for each other. it’s beautiful.

to say that this show only promotes bullying to its young, impressionable target demographic, could not be more wrong. this show matters because it gives its characters (who are representative of today’s teen generation), complete arcs, and safe spaces for feelings no matter how ugly they are. it’s a show that allows teens to be teens, allows them to figure things out for themselves, a show that allows them to relate with one another, as they should. and the usual byproduct of emotional teens relating with one another is bullying. it’s not the best thing ever, but it is what it is. see, we can only pray and hope that the kids turn out to be good ones, but to expect kids to be perfect is out of the question. this is a work of fiction, of course there is a tinge of exaggeration. now, if you all are that bothered by the bullying, i hope there are adults watching with you. be kilig. have fun with the show, but always look deeper.

why do you think i needed three re-watches and few days for a post this long?

i am excited for the next episodes.

(if i think to add more, this will be edited).

#tv #tv: he's into her

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verai-marcel · 6 years ago

Note

If you take request at the moment, I have an idea of fanfiction :) with Low honor Arthur x Female reader in a modern AU. He is in jail for 2 months now and the reader who is a cop/keeper brings him something to him in his cell and he's gonna take advantage of her, taking her roughless and she likes it? :D

Submit to Release (RDR2 Fanfic, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: You are a tough-as-nails prison guard, and for the past two months, you’ve had an interesting prisoner, with eyes the color of the ocean and a smile that made you dream things you shouldn’t. When you find yourself alone in the interrogation room with him, things get a bit heated. Can you resist when he turns his intense gaze on you?

Author’s Notes: Got this request and immediately had to write it, as I am all about this kink. I have watched too much porn involving cops and prisoners, so this is definitely a fetish of mine, and I REGRET NOTHING. Also disclaimer, I know next to nothing about detention centers or how the security would work; this is just smut, so let go of any semblance of reality here.

Tags: Low honor Arthur, blow jobs, deep throating, dirty talk, dubious consent, cop & prisoner sex, modern AU, older man/younger woman, D/s

Also find it on AO3!

Word Count: 4,009

It had been an interesting two months. You were a prison guard at the detention center in a small city, and you had worked your ass off to be respected here, training during your off hours to become faster, stronger, better. Anyone, man or woman, couldn’t cross you and get away with it. For the past 3 years since you had graduated college, you busted your ass and became damn good at your job.

Then the feds dropped off a man here and the higher-ups, seeing all of your accomplishments, felt that you should be the one to watch him. The man had been gruff but polite, sarcastic in a charming way, and he physically looked like he stepped out of a spaghetti western; he walked with the gait of a man who knew himself, confident, yet self-aware of his faults. Dirty blonde hair framed his rugged jaw and feathered around his neck. He always had a five o’clock shadow, as if shaving only worked for three minutes. His shoulders and back were broad, tapering into a solid torso. But his eyes were what had caught your attention the most: they were a unique shade of bluish-green that reminded you of the ocean that you had seen once when you were younger.

The aggravating part of this development was the dreams you started having a couple weeks ago. A lot of them involved said prisoner, railing you on his cot in his cell. Or riding him in a hotel room. Or being on your knees, taking him in your mouth, gagging around his thick…

God. You needed to stop thinking about it, about him, about how long it had been since you had been with anyone, because most men were quickly dissuaded once they knew your profession and saw how little bullshit you tolerated. You’ve had five first dates in twice as many months, and they all ended poorly, and most didn’t even end in a goodbye kiss. Your friends concluded that you were too strong for those men; they couldn’t handle it with their fragile masculinity. Your friends also thought you needed a real man, a big guy from the countryside.

Well, the special prisoner was a big guy from the countryside; from what little information you were given, he was transferred here from a small town jail for burglary. There was some evidence of his connection to a larger crime syndicate, but it all seemed rather inconclusive.

The more pertinent issue at hand was that two weeks ago, you accidently saw him taking his shirt off, and you gaped like an idiot. Unfortunately, he had seen you at the same time, winking at you before walking further into the showers. You had seen plenty of men shirtless and it had not phased you before, so your body’s reaction was out of the ordinary, and very unwelcome. You found him attractive to an alarming degree. Since that day, the lurid dreams started.

You shook your head and focused on the task at hand. You had to escort him to the interrogation room tonight; a detective had arrived to ask him about his supposed affiliation with the Van der Linde family.

He looked up as you unlocked the jail cell. A wry smile appeared on his face as he greeted you with a wave of two fingers.

“Hey there,” he said in his gravelly voice. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back; he was always polite to you, and lately, had become rather friendly. He had shared stories of his childhood and younger years, always vague on the details, but they were entertaining.

“Hi Arthur,” you said as neutrally as you could, despite your smile. “Need to take you to the interrogation room. A detective is here to talk to you.”

He scoffed. “More like talk at me,” he groaned. “Alright, I guess I don’t got a choice,” he said in a mix of southern and Texan drawl; you could listen to him talk all night, if you were honest with yourself. He stood and let you handcuff him, and walked before you out of his cell and towards the interrogation room. You watched him walk without any worry of being caught staring at his fine ass, since no one else was around. Arthur was wearing dark blue sweatpants and an athletic cut, light grey T-shirt that hugged his muscles just right. You swallowed, imagining those broad shoulders over you.

“Awful late, ain’t it?” he asked, turning his head to you as you guided him down another corridor. You quickly blinked and nodded as you shook yourself out of your reverie. It was quiet; most of the day workers had left, leaving just the night guards.

“Yeah, it was the only time the detective could make it. Let’s just get this over with so you can get some sleep.”

“Sure,” he said with that endearing accent of his, making it sound more like a ‘shoah’.

You took him into the interrogation room, gave him a cup of water, and left, waiting for the detective to show up. When he did, he introduced himself as Detective Milton, and barged into the room without waiting to be asked. You sighed, and went into the surveillance room next door to watch and record.

***

You hit the stop button as Milton left the other room to join you.

“You get all that?” He asked brusquely, not even looking at you; his eyes were on the back of Arthur’s head through the two-way mirror, glaring intensely.

“Yup. He either isn’t affiliated at all, or is far too affiliated, to the point where he’d die for them.”

“I thought as much.” He finally looked at you. “You have the recording?”

You silently handed him a flash drive and got up from the computer. “I’ll walk you out, unless you need something else?”

Detective Milton shook his head. “Nothing further tonight. I’ll see myself out.” He walked out briskly, but you followed him out of the room and watched him exit the building, the click of the lock echoing down the corridor.

You sighed and walked back into the interrogation room. You immediately noticed that Arthur wasn’t in the chair, and quickly turned to see him closing and locking the door behind you.

“Arthur?” you asked, squaring your shoulders and looking him straight in his beautiful eyes, trying to gauge the situation. He had been so well behaved the past two months. Had you misjudged him?

His lips curved up to one side, a smoldering smirk if you ever saw one. He slowly walked closer to you, his body moving with the grace of a panther. You took a step back and got into a defensive position. He held up his cuffed hands in a show of surrender, but he didn’t stop walking towards you until he stood toe to toe with you, looking down at you with a heat in his stare that you couldn’t ignore, and froze you to the spot. He slowly leaned down so his lips grazed your temple, then your earlobe. You shuddered at the ghost of a touch.

“Uncuff me,” he whispered into your ear. “I won’t bite, unless you want me to.”

Foolish. Why would you listen to him?

And yet your hands were already reaching for the keys, already uncuffing him. As the metal bands fell to the ground, the sound ringing in the room, you came back to your senses and realized what you had done. Looking up at him, you realized he hadn’t moved yet; he was waiting for you to make the first move. You took another step back.

He stepped forward, following you until your back hit the far wall. His hand came up to rest against the wall next to your face, trapping you in the corner. His other hand caressed your cheek, lifted your chin with his forefinger, forcing you to look up at him. His thumb brushed your lips.

“So pretty,” he whispered as he leaned in to steal a kiss. It was soft but full of heat and a carnal promise. When he pulled away, you let out a shuddering breath; your heart was trying to beat out of your chest.

“Stop,” you said, hating how your voice sounded so husky.

“I ain’t blind,” he said, the rough timbre of his voice stroking you intimately. “I seen how you look at me. How you watch me.”

“I’m supposed to watch you,” you tried to say in a gruff manner. You didn’t think you were very successful.

“When’s the last time you had a real man?” he rumbled, shifting closer to you, his chest just barely an inch away from yours.

“That’s personal!” you hissed, partially from embarrassment.

“Sorry, sweetheart. But when I see a fine woman like you, I have to take a chance.” He leaned down and kissed you again, and you moaned softly as his hand went from your chin to cradling your cheek. He kept kissing you, his hand roaming to the back of your neck, massaging your tense muscles as his other hand gripped your hip. His kiss was all-consuming, and you had to get away if you wanted to think properly.

“We can’t do this,” you said as you pulled away from him for air.

“Are the cameras recordin’ in here?”

You looked away. Shit. You had turned them off.

“So no one can see us?”

You kept looking away, but he saw the truth in your eyes.

“Take your clothes off.”

You looked back at him, shocked that he would ask such a thing.

He smiled, stepped back from you, and took his shirt off. You swallowed as he took your hands and placed them on his chest, and stepped closer to you again. He forced his knee between your legs, and you gasped at the contact. Leaning down to kiss your neck, he grabbed your ass and lifted you up easily, spreading your legs so he could grind himself against your core.

He was strong. Ridiculously, inhumanly strong.

And you immediately felt your pussy pulse in reaction to his body against yours. You cursed yourself inwardly, feeling your skin heat up, your nipples hardening. You ran your hands up his chest, around his shoulders and down his hard biceps, feeling his muscles as he held you up against the wall like you weighed nothing.

“I wanna feel your skin against mine,” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers through you. “Unbutton your shirt for me.”

Something about his deep voice made you want to obey. You unbuttoned your tan, short sleeved shirt, letting it fall open. Arthur’s attention went straight to your chest, and he licked his lips as he slowly looked back up to you, a silent command in his eyes. Your bra was the front-clasp kind, and you unhooked that too, exposing your breasts to his hot gaze.

Setting you back onto your feet, he grabbed your breasts and kneaded them, teasing your nipples and watching you lean your head back and sigh. God, his touch set you on fire, jolts of pleasure coming from your hard buds as he pinched and squeezed them. He bent over and took one in his mouth, and you wrapped your arms around his head to keep him at your chest.

“So good,” you whispered. You heard him chuckle, felt it reverberate against you as he switched to your other nipple, licking and sucking hard enough to make you cry out softly with pleasure.

“It gets better,” he said, kneeling in front of you, his hands stroking your thighs. You got the idea and took off your duty belt, setting it safely down before unzipping your pants, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. You were wearing just a simple pair of black panties and didn’t feel too sexy about it, but Arthur looked up at you with an excited heat in his eyes as he bit the waistband and pulled them down your thighs. He pulled them off the rest of the way with his hands, the heat from his fingers lingering on your skin. Then he guided one of your legs over his shoulder, caressing the underside of your calf.

Spreading your wet folds, Arthur immediately went for your clit, sucking hard. You cried out in surprise; the sudden pleasure that shot through your veins left you breathless.

After the initial attack, he backed off, licking gently as he slipped one finger slowly inside of you, testing your reaction. You were tight, since you hadn’t had anything or anyone in a year.

“So tight, can’t wait to take you.”

You blinked. How far were you going to let this go on?

Then he sucked on your clit again and you lost all rational thought. He pushed a second finger inside of you.

“You have any wild fantasies?” he asked while he teased your opening with his fingers.

It was hard to think about anything while he was building up the heated sensations between your legs. But one fantasy did come to mind.

“Had a neighbor when I was growing up. He was probably twenty years older than me, but I always fantasized about him.”

“Tell me more.”

“Bending me over his kitchen counter, taking me hard. Telling me I was a bad girl, spanking me.”

Arthur hummed, a wry grin on his face. He stood up, moving your leg off his shoulder. Then, with his eyes watching for your reaction, he pushed three fingers into you and smiled as you rode him, desperate for the contact.

“City boys out here ain’t gonna cut it for you. Sounds like you need an older man, someone to teach you some things,” he said in a low tone. He thumbed your clit as you rode his fingers, his other hand wrapped around your neck. “Ain’t that right, baby doll?”

You nodded.

“Call me Mr. Morgan.”

“Yes, Mr. Morgan.” Just saying it out loud made you more wet.

He kissed your cheek. “That’s my girl. Now, you do as I say, and I’ll make you feel good.” He shook you by the neck. ”You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I would, sir.”

He growled, pleased with your answer. He pulled his fingers out of you and forced them into your mouth. You instinctively licked them clean.

Then he took a step back and gestured at the ground. “Kneel.”

You got onto your knees and looked up at him, watching him tug his pants down, exposing the V of his hips. He pulled his cock out, giving you a smile as he noticed your eyes following his movements. His cock was just the right length, and thicker than any you had seen. He stroked it as he stared at you, reaching out to hold the back of your head.

“You know what to do,” he murmured. “Go on.”

You leaned forward and took his thick cock into your mouth, and he groaned, watching your lips wrap around him eagerly. Your dreams were no match for reality; he was hot as sin and worth breaking the rules.

Soon he couldn’t control his hips as he started moving in short bursts, shoving his dick down your throat. You quickly adapted to his length, resisting your gag reflex and breathing through your nose. Then he suddenly grabbed your head in both hands and choked you on his cock as it hit the back of your throat. You gagged and made a high pitched sound of panic, and he let go of you, pushing you back.

Coughing, tears coming down, you looked up at him, wanting to feel anything other than lust. But when he kneeled down to slide your shirt and bra off your shoulders, you whimpered with desire as he caressed your cheek. Then when he picked you up, and forced you against the wall, you could only moan with wanton hunger. Spreading your legs, he aimed his thick shaft at your entrance.

“You wanna be a good girl?”

“Yes, Mr. Morgan,” you panted.

“Then you have to learn how to fuck,” he rumbled as he entered you. His thick cock forced your muscles to stretch around him. It hurt at first, as he slowly sank into you, every inch almost unbearable because of his girth. You pushed at him, willing him to slow down, to give you a moment to breathe, but he was far too strong, and kept moving forward until he was fully inside of you. Only then did he let you catch your breath, the pain giving way to pleasure as he thumbed your clit and pinched your nipples.

“There you go,” he crooned, watching you writhe against him, your fingers wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He started to pull out a bit, then thrust back in, making you thump against the wall. Again and again he did this, making a steady rhythm of his body against yours. He started to pull out more, ramming back into you with longer strokes, until he was practically re-entering you each time.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he growled against your cheek before kissing you, taking your mouth like a man starved for you. His tongue battled with yours as his thrusts overwhelmed you with their strength. What was air when you had Arthur’s tongue in your mouth, his hand wrapped around your throat?

He turned his head to look behind him, then looked back at you. “Look in the mirror, sweetheart. Tell me what you see.”

You looked past his shoulder. You took it all in: his glorious body, his back covered in your scratch marks, your naked legs wrapped around his waist, his muscles flexing as he held you up against the wall. Watching his hips move in erotic motions against you, you moaned before you answered him.

“I see a hot man fucking me.”

Arthur laughed, a deep throaty laugh that made you squeeze your pussy around him. “I see my girl learning how to please a man.” Wrapping his arms around you tight, he walked backwards, forcing you to hold onto him as he sat down in one of the chairs.

“Now ride me.”

You quickly started moving your hips, gripping his shoulders for balance. Your tits bounced in front of him, and he shoved his face between them, biting and licking you.

“So obedient.” He grasped your hips as you grinded on his hard shaft. “Makin’ me feel so good. Tell me, how much do you like my dick inside you?”

“I love it, sir,” you breathed.

“That all?”

“I crave it, sir. I need you inside me.”

He smacked your ass, hard. “Beg for it.”

“Please, please, I’ll do anything, just please keep fucking me!”

His grip on your hips tightened, and he suddenly started thrusting up into you, fast and rough.

“Come for me,” he commanded, and you reached down to play with your clit, bringing yourself over the edge, looking down at him as a wave of pleasure crashed through you, your climax making you shake and moan, never wanting his cock to leave you. As your hips slowed and your breaths came back to normal, he lifted you off of him to stand for a moment as he stood with you.

Then he suddenly spun you around and bent you over the table, holding you down with his hand on the back of your neck, his other hand on your ass.

“I ain’t done with you,” he growled, and nudged your sensitive hole. You cried out as he rammed his cock back in swiftly, giving you no time to recover as he started to fuck you forcefully. He reached down and toyed with your clit again, bringing you quickly to the edge, and then stopping, bringing his hand back to your ass to slap you. He did this over and over, making you go crazy for want of completion. You begged and pleaded to come, but he ignored you.

After countless rounds of edging, he slowed his movements, making sure you felt every inch of him possessing your body. You turned your head to look in the mirror; he stood over you, one hand on the small of your back, holding you down, his other arm at his side, as he casually fucked your tight slit. You caught the look on his face, looking down at you with a lust that most men saved for porn stars.

“Just like tamin’ a horse back home,” he muttered as he moved his hips back and forth almost lazily, his cock stirring up your insides. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against your ear. “Lure her in, then ride her ‘til she breaks.”

He suddenly started moving at a breakneck pace, hammering his dick into you with wild abandon. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you still as he used your hole relentlessly. You reached back to try and slow him down, but he just grabbed both your wrists in one of his big hands and held them tight, while he reached down with his other hand to pinch and twist your sensitive nub until you cried out, coming undone, writhing and twisting under him.

“Gonna fill you up, baby girl,” he growled into your ear. You gasped and tried to break free.

“Wait,” you said, a bit frantic, “I’m not on the pill!”

He didn’t let you go; instead, he held you down and thrust harder. “Get some Plan B after this, then get yourself on the pill. Because we’re gonna be doin’ this a lot while I’m here.” As he reached over to wrap his hand around your mouth, he said in a low voice, “Now, shut up and take it like a good girl.”

Your cries were muffled by his big hand around your mouth as he pounded faster into you, his steady rhythm giving way to his mindless urge to breed you. He moaned into your ear and his thrusts slowed as he rammed his hips hard against your ass, shooting his hot load deep inside of you just as you came a third time, softly whimpering as you felt him finish. He finally stopped moving, staying in you for as long as he could, until he inevitably slipped out from your messy hole. He ran his fingers along the inside of your thigh, pushing some of his seed back into your pussy.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked as he slowly coaxed you off the table and onto your knees in front of him. You looked up at him and nodded, your eyes glazed over from how hard you came, feeling somewhat guilty for getting off because of how he forced himself on you.

“Good. Now clean me up with that sweet mouth of yours.” He stepped forward, wrapping his hand around the back of your head and guiding you to his cock. You took him into your mouth and licked him clean, tasting his cum and your juices combined on his skin. Once he was clean, he tucked himself back into his jeans, and went to get his shirt off the ground, along with your clothes.

“Don’t clean up until you get home,” he ordered. “I want you to feel me dripping down your thighs as you leave tonight.”

You nodded, putting your clothes on quickly. You had to get out of here, had to take Arthur back to his cell, had to close up for the night in time for the next guard to take their shift. Had to put some distance from… all of this.

Then you looked up at Arthur, who was watching you carefully, as if he could read your mind. Wrapping his arms around you, he kissed the top of your head, like a lover.

“When I get out of here, you’re gonna invite me to your place, and I’ll show you a real good time,” he said, as if it had already been decided.

And you had every intention of obeying him.

——————–

End Notes: I just wanted to write a PWP. Then some goddamn plot showed up. I kinda like this idea, might write a sequel, if anyone is interested. Let me know in the comments!

Also many thanks to @dva-xo for catching my typos and grammar errors!!!

#dubcon #arthur morgan #arthur x reader #fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #writing #nsft #lemon fanfic #prisoner AU

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prettywordsyouleft · 6 years ago

Text

Beyond The Palace Walls - Part Seven

Genre: royal au / fluff / adventure / self-growth

Characters: Jung Jaehyun x reader (feat. Ten, Lucas and Taeyong)

A/N: This story was started as a request but it didn’t suit the idol I was writing it for and it was too good to scrap. Originally, it was going to be a Lucas fiction but then I realised I was writing Jaehyun without realising it and so my bias one of them won it out.

Index: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

Once breakfast was over, it was time to continue towards the neighbouring kingdom with the knowledge that by nightfall you would no longer be on your home soil. You walked along with a bounce in your step, animated after your conversation with Taeyong earlier in the morning. He often caught your gaze from up on the horse he rode due to his injury, shooting you small smiles until Jaehyun let out a heavy huff of air.

“Are you smitten with Y/N, hyung?”

“Should I hold her with disdain still?” he offered, grinning down at you. It made you giggle and Jaehyun looked between you both before he instinctively reached for your hand. It made Lucas erupt in cheer.

“Finally!”

“Were you truly blind to the two of them?” Ten asked incredulously, clucking his tongue at the youngest. “Honestly!”

“Even I knew,” Jane said with a smile giggle. You glanced up at Jaehyun to see the mixture of pride and shyness within his expression and wrapped your arms around his waist. He blinked rapidly but didn’t remove you from your position either, the pair of you walking along joined like that until it became difficult with the undulating ground. With a smile exchanged, you settled for simply holding one another’s hand again, feeling free to do so and receive no judgement from your friends.

It was rewarding to be in love and show it off.

However once you crossed the bridge later that evening that linked the two kingdoms together, you felt Jaehyun’s mood change. He gripped your hand tightly for some time and then let it go altogether on the outskirts of a township. You sighed but nodded gently at Taeyong, watching as Jaehyun retreated further into himself. You wouldn’t allow him to leave you entirely.

“Is there where you grew up?” you asked and he nodded softly. You looked ahead at the twinkling of the lights in the distance, smiling at how picturesque it appeared. “Will we stay at your home tonight?”

“It would be best to go to an inn,” he offered curtly and you smiled gently. Jaehyun wasn’t ready yet. Given you hadn’t planned to tell him of who you were for some time, you could understand the anxiety that came with it. He had even scolded you back when he realised who you were. It would no doubt be playing on his mind as he realised how close he was to admitting the truth.

You wondered how you should take the explanation. Should you allow him to tell you that he was a Prince and feign surprise? You knew too much already though and you weren’t very good at hiding things from him now. He may have even picked up on something brewing since you and Taeyong now were getting along like old friends. Would you just be better to tell him yourself? That you guessed it and remove that element of awkwardness? Would he appreciate that though? The further you internalised the problem, the deeper you were involved in your thoughts and you didn’t know you had been directed into the local bar and inn until you heard and smelt the now tell-tale signs. You blinked and looked around the establishment, it was a full house and most of the punters were merrily wrapping up their working week up with a pint of beer and some of the hearty food selections.

You smiled; you had come to enjoy bars now.

“Alright, this time Princess, no alcohol,” Lucas insisted and you pouted heavily but grabbed for your juice happily. Jaehyun quickly set upon his own beverage, downing most of it before others had even taken a sip. He groaned as the alcohol made its way into his system, and reached forward for the snacks on the table.

“Do you really need to go that intense already?” Taeyong chastised, watching intently as Jaehyun finished the drink and then got up to get another.

“He’ll need all that false confidence to face his family tomorrow, leave him be.”

Jane frowned at Ten’s statement and glanced at you, puzzled. You merely shrugged; it wasn’t yet your secret to share.

The night wore on and Ten and Jane retired before the rest of you, drinks still flowing around your table as the three men reminisced over their years on the road. Even though you weren’t directly a part of the memories, you felt welcomed in, asking questions during the many tales and laughing with them the further they got invested in sharing their experiences. You couldn’t think of a better way to wrap up your journey so far for them or yourself. At the beach, you had discovered your own sense of accomplishment for the first time in your life. You could tell their journey had many moments of such a feeling, and it encouraged you to be hopeful for further experiences now that you knew you could make it in the world. Sure, there was so much more to learn. Yet you had discovered a vast amount already in such a short space of time. It was the beginning of your continued thirst for more experiences. You wanted to look back in three year’s time like the three men were and be able to tell countless tales yourself.

As the night wore on into the early hours of the morning, you insisted that they stop drinking and go to bed since there was much to happen in the following day. Taeyong agreed and hauled Lucas to his feet, the youngest exclaiming another round would end the night well. All the same, he allowed himself to be dragged upstairs and you turned to Jaehyun to help him to his feet.

“Little bird you’re allowing me to perch on you instead now?” he asked with a lazy grin and you chuckled lightly as he slumped against you. There was nothing about his position on you that seemed to match the dainty term he had used and you heaved in a deep breath as you determinedly faced the stairs. It wasn’t impossible but you struggled to haul him up the stairs all the same, Jaehyun stumbling into you on the landing. It made you both smack into the wall behind you and he looked down at you, an intoxicating expression filling his warm eyes. You thanked him for being as drunk as he was or else you knew you would have fallen deeper into such a gaze. Shaking your head, you dodged his messy attempt to press his lips to yours.

“Come on, it’s bedtime, not kissing time.”

“Can’t we kiss the night away?” he pleaded with a whine and you shook your head firmly.

“You’re not alert enough for such thoughts, Jaehyun. You’ll regret it in the morning.”

“I can sober up!” he enthused, pushing back from you and holding his hand up as if it would help his concentration to prove to you that the alcohol was no longer flowing through his veins. You placed your own hands on your hips and gave him a bemused smile as he fumbled around on the landing until he let out a giggle. “Okay, maybe not.”

“Bed it is,” you concluded and headed along the hallway, remembering Taeyong giving you the room number he was sharing with Jaehyun. Your room with Jane was before theirs and you stopped to check the number on your key to make sure you had the right one for when you returned.

Stealing it from your hand, Jaehyun started to chant about it being his room, unlocking it hastily and moving across the room, his hands upon the bottom of his shirt.

“No you mustn’t!” you cried in a heavy whisper, worrying about waking up Jane with his ruckus. You rushed after him. “Jane…”

You blinked when you found the room vacant apart from you both and gasped when you realised where Jane could be. Your cheeks filled with colour and you spun around, trying to deal with the notions within your mind. And then you remembered your own predicament, turning back to face Jaehyun who was now shirtless and kicking off his boots. Snapping your eyes to the ceiling after taking a long look at his well-defined back and shoulders, you sighed impatiently.

“Jaehyun this isn’t your room, you need to put your clothes back on!”

“It isn’t?” he asked and then turned around. You cursed your gaze for instinctively following his movement, soaking in his torso before you moved your eyes back to the ceiling. He chuckled. “What are you doing in my room, Y/N?”

“This is my room,” you countered and he shook his head, approaching you slowly. You backed up as he advanced on you, biting your bottom lip so hard that you were worried your teeth would pierce through it. He smirked before he reached forward, your eyes clamping shut until you realised he had merely closed the door behind you and not touched you at all. When you reopened your eyes, Jaehyun had retreated across the room and climbed into the bed. You groaned. There was only one bed in this room and whilst you had no issues with sharing with Jane, it seemed unfathomable to do so with a man.

Even the one you loved.

“Get up, Jaehyun,” you instructed and he shook his head childishly before nestling into the bedding further. “I need to sleep!”

“Then sleep.”

“How can I?” you asked heavily, now standing beside him in hopes he would get up. With a swift motion, his hand yanked you down and over him, your body nestling into the empty space of the bed beside him. He smiled at your shocked expression and turned to face you, wrapping an arm over you so you couldn’t change the effort he was rather proud of.

You were certain you wouldn’t last out the night with how fast your heart was now beating.

The weight of Jaehyun’s decision finally dawned on him but he didn’t move his arm. Instead, his expression grew sincere and he gently brushed the hair away from your face. You weren’t sure what to expect but the gesture did nothing to calm you down.

“I need to tell you something important.”

You blinked and cursed yourself and your imagination for running off with you again. Composing yourself, you looked up at him again. “You do?”

“Tomorrow,” he murmured, closing his eyes. He drew you in closer to his chest and you had to admit you felt warm within his arms, sleep tugging at you softly. “I’ll tell you then.”

“And tonight?” you asked slowly, Jaehyun opening his eyes to stare at you. He shifted to kiss your forehead and then settled back down.

“Tonight I’m too drunk to do anything but hold you like this. Let me have this one last night with you.”

“One last night?” you repeated, frowning at his wording. But the rhythm of his breathing only allowed your dreams to rush forward and capture you quickly, sleep invading you before you could truly question any of this.

“Your Highness!” a voice hissed and you heard groaning, your own mood now heavy from being disturbed from such a blissful slumber.

Before you could reply though, someone else did. “I told you not to call me that.”

“But-”

You opened your eyes as Jaehyun shook his head adamantly into the pillow. “It’s been three years. I’ve only been back home for a night, don’t shackle me with that term so soon, hyung.”

You blinked, glancing over at Jane’s shocked expression and then waited for Jaehyun to realise his mistake. When he didn’t shift, you poked his bare chest and he shifted away from you with a groan. “I said…”

The gasp that fell from his lips made you giggle in reaction and Jane darted her focus between you both incredulously. She whined. “I don’t know what to address first.”

“Shall we discuss your whereabouts last night?” you asked, feeling rather amused for first thing in the morning. Jaehyun was now sitting up and clasping his head whilst groaning and you instinctively reached to rub his back in comfort. Jane eyed your action avidly. “Jane?”

“Huh?” she said distantly and then snapped out of it. “You know, I think I heard Ten calling for me just now. I’ll go. Perhaps Jaehyun needs to find some water as much as he needs a shirt.”

“I’ll see to it!” you called after her, Jaehyun finally peeking out from behind a hand to stare at you.

“How much of that did you hear?”

You pursed your lips in thought before you smirked. “How much of it do you want me to have heard?”

“You know?” he guessed and you nodded. “You, you really know?”

“Yes, I know you’re a Prince.”

“Did-”

“I figured it out on my own,” you admitted with an encouraging smile, and Jaehyun nodded softly. “Does my knowing bother you?”

“Well, it helps me actually. I was worried about how to tell you,” he admitted and you patted his back gently. Jaehyun glanced at your touch upon his skin and seemed to grow shy. He covered his body for a moment before fishing his shirt up from the ground and placed it on. “I uh, I’m sorry for last night.”

“You were adamant I sleep against you, was that for future practice?” you asked, feeling as if you had been possessed by a minx overnight. You were enjoying watching everyone squirm today. Last night it had been you frightened by your predicament, but after sleeping you felt as if you had overcome such worries. Waking up in Jaehyun’s arms had given you something to look forward to – you wanted to do this every day for the rest of your life.

Jaehyun watched you for a moment and then smiled. “I like this side to you.”

“You do?” Jaehyun nodded. “Why?”

“Because you’re being yourself. You’re not hiding who you want to be. It’s very alluring.”

“Is it time for breakfast?” you asked with a cough, leaping out of the bed as Jaehyun chuckled. You were only equipped to go so far right now. Getting up, Jaehyun approached you as you used the mirror to smooth down your hair, his arms wrapping around you from behind as he gazed at you through the reflection.

“Can you lend me your strength today?”

You smiled and nodded once. “Are you worried?”

“I missed them, I really did. But I don’t want to rule this kingdom when my brother wants to as well.”

“You know, I might be able to help you with that,” you offered, turning around in his embrace and smiling up at him. Jaehyun examined you for a moment and then let his mouth fall ajar in realisation.

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Well, I figured I could very well get down on one knee and ask that much of you, but you may wish to do that yourself. Besides, can you imagine the outcry if my Father ever found out?”

He grinned. “You’ve only known me such a short time though.”

“And I slept in your arms during that time,” you retorted, poking him again lightly. You pouted up at him. “Will you take responsibility?”

“Is that how your kingdom works?”

“You also kissed me, multiple times. I’m certain that would seal the deal in my Father’s eyes. How dare I do such a thing and not follow it through?”

“You’re certain about this?” Jaehyun asked more gently, the humour of your conversation easing. “You really want this?”

“Don’t you?”

“No one has ever made me this reckless before,” he said with a smile, leaning in closer. He brushed your hair away from your face. “Marrying you would be a dream.”

“No, it can be a reality, if you want it.”

_________________

Part 8

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galaxygukk · 5 years ago

Text

tomorrow in tokyo

◣ 2 HEAVEN LETS UP ◥

genre: slice of life, romance, friendship, soulmate au type shit, college au

pairing: park jimin x oc (erika)

summary: in which park jimin is a lost soul in tokyo, and a certain girl pushes him through her heart and the city with an exasperated huff and a humoring smile. or “16:34, 11th November 2019. Remember it.”

a/n: jimin is pretty.

The air is still

For a second. One long, aching second, I want to ask this boy who he is. Why he came to the door of a young girl with a heart half-broken and more snacks than feelings at this point in her life. But the wind is swift enough to blow his silvery strands across his forehead and make his blue jacket rustle and let his sincerity shake me to my core.

He doesn’t sound like he said it for a dare. A joke. He sounds like what I feel when I tell Neha that I wouldn’t know how to breathe properly without her. All softness and genuine words that come out in a whoosh of air that could look like stardust.

“Erika.”

The boy’s eyes crinkle at the corners like paper of a dissatisfied writer. Except there’s nothing dissatisfying about it, and I’m no writer. His fingers travel to his face and he pinches his mask between two small fingers laden with simple silver rings. He pulls it down to rest over his chin, revealing a face I’m sure will haunt my dreams the next few weeks.

“Jimin.”

He steps forward, the tiniest step possible, and towers over me. He sighs. It’s a wistful one.

“I was in love with the idea of you. Now it’s just you. All you.”

I hardly understand, but I trust by the shake in his voice that he does. My heart doesn’t skip beats or gallop like romance novels say hearts do when you’re met with something that could change your world. Jimin’s does. I can hear it with the whistle of the wind and the huffs of his breath over my head, making music I could use as a lullaby.

“How?” I ask, voice barely a whisper.

How what? I ask myself. How he fell in love with me? How he even knows me? How he knows where I live? How I’m accepting this so easily?

“I saw you crying across the road from here. On the way up to your apartment, you stayed by your door for a full hour and cried and cried and you were so, so beautiful. I wanted nothing more than to take you home with me and give you a life laden with gold. I couldn’t sleep thinking about you. Didn’t even realize I was awake because I dreamt with my eyes open. I... I don’t know if that’s love but I want to love you. I want to, so much.”

Now my heart picks up. I tilt my head to meet his eyes, and there’s a flush over his cheeks and the very tip of his nose. My feet are cold from the outside air but Jimin’s body, which had stepped most of the way into the doorway, shelters me from the rest of the discomfort out of my blankets and my couch.

This could be a ploy. He could be a serial killer or an Asian Ted Bundy. He could only be saying things like this, things that make my stomach erupt in a swarm of sparrows flying together in the sunrise sky, only to rob me of everything I have and leave.

Or. He could not.

I think back to the day he’s talking about. The day I left a park bench in quick strides and broke down in sobs on the train back home. Dear god, I was such a mess.

“Jimin,” I try his name on my tongue. Is that even his real name? “That was the day a man broke me.”

“Then let me fix you.”

His eyelashes flutter as his eyes slip closed. “Fuck it all if I sound like a madman. An insensitive prick trying to make a move on a vulnerable girl— but this feeling? It’s not leaving. I can’t do a fucking thing anymore without thinking about the girl hiding behind the succulents on her windowsill.”

I look at him then. Really do. How the long strands of his silver hair catch onto the ends of his pretty eyelashes. How I can see myself reflected in the rich hazel of his almond eyes. How his cheeks fluff upwards to his eyes with the slightest bit of a smile and his tiny crooked tooth hiding behind pillowy lips naturally coloured like pink roses bathed in a dusky hue.

He’s breathtaking.

He continues. “Erika.” My name rolls off his tongue like honey. “I could be the disappointment of your life or the best thing that’s happened to you. For all the connotations my old-man hair gives off, I’m a person of black or white.” I glance at his gray hair again. “There’s no in between and right now it’s either give us a chance or lose the chance of a lifetime.” I don’t realize he’s stepped closer until one of his hands takes my fingers into his palm and the metal of his rings is cool against my skin. “Love at first sight? That shit happens. Who would’ve thought?”

I smile, because I don’t quite know what to say or what to do or what to think. Our fingers are intertwined now, and I’m quite sure that it’s the gentle squeeze he gives me and the warmth of his fingers that pulls me out of my reverie.

“You talk a lot,” I note. I don’t add that I do too— usually. Not right now. What am I supposed to say now?

Jimin smiles, accentuating just how handsome of a face he has behind straight white teeth save for that little imperfection in the front that I seem to find so endearing in my head. He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t quite know how to phrase is, with the apparent shift in his nervous hazel eyes and locked jaw.

My heart beats at a mile a minute when I pull my hand back from his and set my palm against his cheek. Soft skin and softer eyes. I can hear his breath hitch under the unrelenting wind, like my hand evoked a sudden full stop in his running thoughts.

“Are you serious about this?” I ask gently, channeling the soothing voice Neha uses to coax me into seeing reason when I’m being impulsive. It dwells on me that standing here in front of Jimin, I am everything that is not what I usually am— calm and reserved and overall quiet. His words shut off any semblance of foolery I’ve had in me and emptied me out of unhealthy coping mechanisms until I’m just a shell of feelings and thoughts that don’t leave unless I drink them away.

Jimin nods, one step short of vigorously. “I don’t know if it’s love or curiosity. But it has something to do with you,” he says, sounding exhilarated in a way that makes me smile wider.

Give it a try, Erika, I say to myself.

“You’re kind of an idiot for not approaching me like a normal human being and taking me out and making me fall in love with you,” I chastise lightheartedly. “But what do you want to do now?”

Jimin is nervous. He’s a pretty boy, but the way his emotions display so clearly over his face makes him that much more stunning to look at. I notice that despite his distinctly asian features, all this time he’d been speaking in English, without a trace of an accent.

“I want to know more about you. Little things that could make me love you more, put a person behind the heart I seemed to have taken a liking towards,” Jimin says shyly. I huff a small laugh.

“This could very much just be some type of spur-of-the-moment confession. Just interest and not love. I could be the most boring person you’d ever met,” I tell Jimin earnestly, eyes wide and feeling somewhat hopeful that no, he won’t care. He’s willing to give it a try. Still.

He takes a step back from me and opens his arms wide, blue jacket that’s too big for his lithe frame rustling in the breeze, and he grins a roguish grin that makes my insides churn not unpleasantly. What was God thinking making someone like him?

“Fuck it,” Jimin says with a smile. Crude words from the sweetest pair of lips I could imagine.

Within a second, I’m returning his grin.

“Does... Does this look too hippie?” Neha asks me, words only a rush of breath as she gestures to the flowy semi-translucent dress you’d only find in Barbados-themed magazines. It’s a bit odd for a date out in Tokyo in fall, but it suits her.

“Neha, you’re a hippie,” I remind her lightheartedly. A pout forms on her lips at my response but she turns back to inspect herself in her antique mirror nonetheless. She smooths down the sides of her dress over the curves of her waist wordlessly, as though thinking more about something more pressing than her dress.

“I think he’ll like it...?” She says, almost to herself.

“Wear what you like, dummy,” I say.

I’ve never seen Neha like this, truth be told. She’s always quiet confidence and so self-accepting— seeing her get nervous about something as trivial as her looks (which are top tier either way, if I do say so myself) makes me honestly wonder how special this date really is for her. How special the guy is for her.

She’s only ever been in one other relationship that I know of before this. It was with an older man who bought her coffee every morning and took her to dates in restaurants neither of us could pronounce the names of. Sugar daddy type but younger than the usual one. That seemed to be her cup of tea— young but accomplished and financially stable, someone who treated her like the princess she is because all she ever does is give to others.

But he was married, and Neha was heartbroken.

I imagine this one must be similar to that. Probably polished to the boot and showing up everywhere in tailored suits and a black Lambo. Hopefully not married this time.

I push myself off her bed and wrap my arms around her arm, looking at her reflection in the mirror. The turquoise beads around her neck and the blinding white of her dress makes her skin look more like honey than ever. She’s a beauty. “You look stunning, Neha,” I say earnestly, grinning from ear to ear. “Damn, how do you manage going out in public with a troll like me?” I joke.

Neha tuts in a chastising voice. “You’re no troll, Eri. You overshadow anything a lost soul could call beautiful. It’s about time you realize it too.”

I haven’t told her about Jimin yet— if I had I’d joke about how he’d seen me for everything good that I’m not already. Lately it’s been less my thoughts that keep me up late into the night, and more Jimin playing twenty questions with me at 1am over text.

I shake my head. “I’m gonna go make myself a sandwich. You want?”

Neha grimaces. “I don’t think I’d be able to stomach it with all the nerves, but thank you for the offer. Eat well.”

With a light tap on her head, I make my way to the kitchen and rummage though the fridge for everything edible I can slap between two slices of bread. In the midst of spreading mayo over some leftover chicken from the roast Neha made last night, my phone dings in my pocket.

My heart is in my throat when I fish it out of my jeans and open the screen. It’s Jimin. Asking me to meet up with him later today.

Oh god.

Besides the first day a few days ago, we hadn’t seen each other again physically. It was all text. And now, the potential of meeting him again sees to be unreal. I was half sure that I was texting no one and that the first meeting was just a figment of my half-assed imagination desperate for some semblance of love in my life.

I’m about to thumb out a reply when the doorbell rings. Neha swears in the other room.

I grin widely, throwing my phone on the counter and reaching for the door before Neha has a chance to get it, ready to make yet another posh man uncomfortable about his gelled hair.

I pull the door open, smile still wide and proud, but stop short.

Because in the doorway, is a man nothing like I’d ever imagined would catch Neha’s attention. So big, with shoulders the span of my forearms and arms twice the size of mine. He’s well and close to six-feet tall and built to the bone, so much so that the simple white v-neck he sports can hardly leave anything to the imagination. His hair is dark and long enough to look artfully messy, like he’d run his fingers through the stands to ruffle it a million times on the way here.

And wow, he’s pretty.

But what surprises me the most are the tattoos. They creep down his hands from under the cuff of his dark gray jacket and wrap around his exposed collarbone. There’s a small flower printed onto the delicate arch of his cheekbone under shadowy, round eyes.

“Uhm, hi,” he says shyly. I catch the tips of his ears turn a steady shade of pink under his dark hair. His voice is soft, sweet in contrast to his intimidating appearance.

“Hi,” I say. “Who are you?”

The boy — man? — flushes again and brings up a hand to ruffle his locks nervously. He gives me a small smile that’s equal parts cute and unnerving. How is his face so different from the rest of him?

“Uh, actually I’m here for ... Neha? My name’s—“

“Jeongguk.”

We both turn simultaneously to see Neha standing there, hands clasped together in front of her and hair done in a pretty updo that makes her face look all the more magnificent. She looks positively exhilarated at the sight of the man in the door, eyes as wide as her smile.

I step back from the door as she comes forward hurriedly, arms spread out. Jeongguk accepts her embrace happily, lips spread in a grin that gives him the semblance of a bunny. His arms wrap around her small waist almost without a thought, pressing her to him as his face buries itself in her neck. Neha laughs sweetly and runs her fingers through his hair.

It feels like an invasion of privacy to watch how they cling to each other, so I return to the kitchen without a word. How long have they known each other to hold on like that?

Neha is the one to pull away first, although with great amount of effort. My heart is fluttery in a way that tells me I’m happy and nervous for her, for the bright stars in her hazel eyes and the wide smile adorning her face. One of her arms stays around “Jeongguk’s” shoulder while the other tucks back strands of hair behind her ear delicately.

“Erika,” she says happily, “this is Jeongguk, my boyfriend. He’s from Korea.”

“Oh wow,” I say. Boyfriend. Already? “It’s great to meet you, Jeongguk!” And it is, to some extent. “I’m Erika. You planning to take good care of Neha while u kidnap her for the day?” My tone is joking, playful, but I give him a steady stare that has his brow furrowing slightly. Yet there’s understanding in his eyes.

“Sure will, ma’am,” he grins roguishly. It makes him look more like a boyish college dropout than ever.

Neha steps over to me and gives me a quick, tight hug. She smells like honey and coconuts, but there’s something new under her natural scent— perfume? “I’ll be back by midnight,” she promises. “Don’t stay up too late and eat something healthy, okay?”

I roll my eyes, muttering a little “yes, mom” under my breath. She chuckles and presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I love you, Eri.”

I return her soft words with similar ones of my own and watch her leave our quaint shared apartment, hand in hand with a boy who throws me a pleasant smile and mouths “thank you” for god knows what. But I’m glad he did, because I deserve to be thanked.

Jimin calls me for the first time ever. It’s been a week since the day I read his texts about wanting to meet up, and just hadn’t found the courage or the right words to reply or— say anything, actually.

My heart runs a whole circuit in my chest, pressing discomfortingly against my rib cage as I pick up my phone with unsteady fingers and pause my episode of Brooklyn 99 haltingly.

I stare at his name. The letters seem to mesh together and deform after a few seconds, and that is when I swallow my fears and swipe my thumb across the screen.

I say nothing.

Jimin breathes a sigh on the other end after a time. Then, finally,

“Hey.”

“Hi,” I reply, voice barely a whisper.

A second pases. Then two.

“What are doing right now?” Jimin asks. His voice is low and soothing, the type of tone you would use when you’re beckoning a small creature in the woods your way, afraid it’ll flee with the slightest loud sound. There’s some rustling on his end, as though he’s busying himself with something other than the lack of my response.

“Nothing much.” Dear god, I am bland. “...You?”

There is a laugh; slightly exasperated. “I’m actually at a skating rink right now. I know this is really sudden and all but— you don’t think you could come down here, could you?” he asks in a tone so hopeful I pull the phone away from my ear, press a hand to my heart and inhale deeply.

“Right now?” I ask incredulously.

“If you can, yeah.”

I look up at the time— the infamous clock above the stove reads ten to 9.

“Aren’t all the skating rinks supposed to be closed now? It’s a Sunday,” I point out, but nevertheless I am pushing my blankets aside and escaping into my room to change out of my bright yellow pajamas into something more agreeable with the breezy weather outside.

“Actually, I have the keys to this one, so we should be okay.” There’s a sound similar to a Velcro strap opening. “Does this mean you’re actually coming?”

He’s hopeful again.

I smile to myself. “Sure thing. Text me the address, I’ll be there in ten.”

#jsjisneknxjs too soft #hope u like this erika ily #i miss u too uwu #parkjimin #park jimin ff #jimin fanfiction #bts fanfic

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putschki1969 · 6 years ago

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Wakana ~ B-PASS 2019 March Issue

Note: I finally got my copy of the newest B-Pass issue and my single (how come everyone received their CD ages before me? T_T)! Anyways, there is only a two-page interview with Wakana in this but I think it’s a GREAT interview, very nice and insightful (especially when it comes to the lyrics). You could probably read a lot into it if you wanted. It was money well spent. Please keep in mind that my Japanese is not perfect, all mistakes are mine.

■ After your time in Kalafina what did you think, what did you feel when you started singing all by yourself? 「It felt like I was going with the flow, like I was surrendering myself to the course of events. I was presented with lots of great opportunities, I got the chance to face many new challenges by going solo. It was a smooth and quick transition. Thanks to that I wasn’t forced to take a long break and I was able to continue singing in 2018」

■ So you went straight into your solo career without really getting the time to think about what you want to sing or what kind of singer you want to be...? 「Shusui, the composer of my song “Toki wo Koeru Yoru ni” asked me at the beginning, "what kind of songs would you like to sing?” But truth is, at that point the only important thing for me was to continue singing so I just wanted him to use my voice in whichever way he liked.」

■ You are happiest when you are singing. You wanted to become a singer ever since you were a child? 「I also really like drawing so back in elementary school I wanted to become a manga drawing opera singer *laughs*. Now the most important thing for me is singing and using my voice. When it comes to drawing it’s like there is a switch, sometimes I am into it, other times not so much. But it’s different with singing, my love for singing never changes, it’s always there and I am always having fun with it. Therefore I want to have confidence in my voice. Of course I am hitting walls sometimes and there are moments when I am wondering why I can’t sing the way I want to sing... but that’s just life, even if I have doubts like that, it can’t be helped *laughs* 」

■ When you overcome your troubles, when you cross those walls you will feel a sense of accomplishment, the songs born out of that feeling will surely convey a lof of power and strength to your audience. Also, by having a great time while singing you will nourish your singing voice. 「When I attend a live I am always seeking out voices that make me feel good, that cleanse my heart. Speaking of which, I attended some great lives by amazing people in the latter half of last year. They were all awesome! I was incredibly moved by those performance which made my wish to continue singing even stronger. I attended a Yumi Matsutōya live show for the very first time in my life, I was super surprised to see her dancing. Yuming-san’s performance was beyond anything I could have ever imagined, I couldn’t help but cry! 」 ■ I think your music also has this kind of quality to it. Your first single is about to be released soon. It was decided that “Toki wo Koeru Yoru ni” would be your solo debut? 「Actually, I have known Shusui-san ever since I was 19 and went to my first audition in Tokyo. We really transcended time, didn’t we *laughs*? Now after all these years have passed we are reunited again through this song, it sounds like the story of a TV-drama. This was also the first time in my life to write lyrics for a song.」 ■ What did you think of the song when you first listened to it? 「It seemed like the kind of song that would be played at the end of a movie. It's a collaboration between Swedish composer Anders Dannvik and Shusui so it has a sort of Northern European vibe to it. It’s not at all influenced by anything that’s trendy right now. There is a lot of weight to it but it builds up and it might not be noticeable at at first listen, at its core it is a quiet and relaxing song.」

■ So you wrote the lyrics? Did you have any experience or practice writing lyrics? 「I had written some short novels and poems in the past but never lyrics. I always wanted to try it but I didn’t think I would ever get the chance, it didn’t seem like something I was meant to do. When I received the opportunity to write these lyrics I was very happy but at the same time I also felt an enormous weight of responsibility. I worried about all the people that would eventually see my lyrics...,but no matter how much I worried, it couldn’t be helped, I had to write these lyrics, "I have to put my feelings into words!” “Ughh, it’s so hard to find words that fit the melody!” “I can’t write anymore!!!” Having all these things constantly going through my mind I got incredibly invested on an emotional level and eventually managed to come up with something. By the third draft I decided my lyrics would be ready for pre-production. Feeling relieved I pretty much collapsed and fell asleep on the spot. My neck was sore for days after that *laughs*. I really put my entire body into those lyrics.」 ■ The main theme of the lyrics is “separation”, I think depending on age the song will resonate differently with people. We experience partings in all kinds of life situations...people will be separated through death, there might be a farewell between lovers or we are saying goodbye at the day of graduation... I think this song can make people feel many different emotions and it can be interpreted in various ways. 「I had a lot of things on my mind when I wrote the lyrics. Parts of the lyrics are based on personal experience I guess. But I performed this song back in August together with an orchestra and then I sang it multiple times during my autumn tour. During these performances I read lots of different impressions from fans which also changed my interpretation of it. I am always curious to hear interprations by others. But there is one thing I definitely wanted to convey with this song, it’s something I firmly believe in...It is okay to say goodbye to lovers, to friends, to precious people, it is okay to face yourself and realise that you have left your old self behind. Farewells are inevitable but I am sure that one day we will all be able to meet again - once we have achieved everything we set out to do.」

■ I think there is a strong sense of separation and loneliness in the first and second chorus, especially with phrases like “over and over again” you can feel the wish to be reunited again. But then during the bridge there is this line here, “within this incomplete heart of mine you are there with arms wide open smiling at me” and you realise that your loved one has always been nearby, close to your heart. 「Memories fade away, each and every moment becomes the past. Even if you are merely living life away, your life ends up transcending time. That is why I think it is the most important thing to always look straight ahead and face life head-on. Within the grand scheme of things we are but a tiny root, just a little thing. I wanted to express this sense of loneliness.」 ■ There is a strong sense of hope and light throughout your song. The final chorus in particular feels very grand. 「The lyrics carry a lot of weight I suppose so I guess that’s why. There is this hope that even when your life ends, you know that you will be able to meet again. I put a lot of emotion into that particular part. I wanted it to sound as passionate as possible without making it turn into a scream. These lines were very difficult to sing.」 ■ There is heat and passion in this song but also a sense of translucency. I think that is also very reflective of your voice; your voice is like a weapon, unique and effective, hitting you right in the heart. During the final line “kokoro wa soba ni iru/my heart will be by your side” there is a pause between “soba ni” and “iru”. I thought that was quite lovely. 「After pre-production I came up with this idea, I thought it might sound nice. I tried singing it like that during my autumn tour and I really liked this moment of silence. That nuance of relief, of finally getting to rest, I wanted to include it in the recording and I think it turned out well.」

■ Speaking of your tour, the coupling song “Tsubasa” is a live recording from your Minabi BLITZ Akasaka concert, isn’t it? 「Since the A-Side is a studio song I chose a live recording for my B-Side. I thought it would be interesting to hear the differences, it will surely be lots of fun to experience that sort of contrast *laughs*」 ■ The melody and tempo are completely different, it is certainly a good contrast. 「 "Tsubasa” has a very courageous vibe so it feels quite different. 」 ■ Once again you wrote the lyrics? 「At its core the song is about being brave. It is very motivating and it can cheer you up. Takebe-san wrote this song for me, while listening to his piano demo on repeat I got this kind of vibe so I was able to write lyrics that did justice to the melody. 」

■ Within all this courage there is talk about a “town dyed in greyish colours” but you also write of “turning your face away from the dazzling lights”. 「Truth is, I don’t like having my picture taken and I don’t like being filmed. I do like the idea of preserving memories through photography and film and I am happy that we are able to do that sort of thing but I sometimes think that I will never be able to get used to this world of frenzied and blinding flashes of photo cameras. So the idea was to try and escape that grey world. If everything is black and white, you might miss out on many parts of this precious world. Imagine you love the sky for its beautiful colour, if the world were monochrome it would be a total waste. It’s this kind of feeling that I had in mind while writing these lines, looking at a world dyed in grey can be lovely of course but it is also nice to look at it in all its dazzling radiance. I thought everyone should get a proper look at this bright world.」 ■ So one has to spread their wings and fly towards it? 「By surrendering yourself to the stream you may be able to see a completely new world. It’s a similar feeling to always looking straight ahead at tomorrow and to make decisions that you won’t regret. Give it your best shot, spread your wings wide and fly as far as you can, this is what I wanted to convey.」 ■ We are faced with so many things on a daily basis and we have to overcome those things by relying on our own instincts. 「That’s right. Sometimes you may wonder why something is happening to you but truth is, it’s up to ourselves to decide how to handle the cards we are dealt. So much is going to happen to you but life and fate are nothing to be afraid of. Don’t be scared! Enjoy yourself!! It’s important to remember that because during our long life we will experience these kind of situations over and over again. From the point of view of an elderly person you realise that no matter what happens to you your experiences seem insignificant in comparison to the grand scheme of things. Keeping that in mind I was able to sing this song. In the lyrics there is an angel whispering, “At the moment of birth - Was it not decided that you would keep on living?” This angel is talking in a light tone... The words “keep on living” may seem a bit exaggerated but I wrote that line thinking, “as long as we keep on moving forward we are alive”. 」

■ It’s a song for everyday life I think, you are singing about ordinary change, about things that happen on a daily basis. Since it is a live version the wish to hear you live again grows stronger I suppose, you answered these wishes by announcing a spring tour that’s going to start in April. 「I was very nervous when I did my very first solo live tour last autumn but I also enjoyed it a lot! Now with the new album on its way the number of songs I can sing for my audience has increased considerably. I think it will be possible for the audience to experience a live that’s very reflective of who I am, it will be very Wakana-like.」 ■ Lots of things have been put into motion, where do you want to go from here? 「First and foremost I am grateful to be in an environment where I am able to sing. Therefore I would like to be a singer that can continue to sing. I would like to continue singing the songs that have been made for me recently but there are also lots of things that have been there before and that will continue to be there in the future. It may always be a bit troublesome but I think that’s fine. On top of that I would just like to be myself, I think there is a special coolness to just being natural. Even if things get troublesome from time to time, I would like to be a singer that enjoys singing.」 ■ When you are having a great time singing that feeling of joy will also be conveyed to your audience. 「Yes, I would like to have lots of fun with singing. That’s how I have always felt. I want people to look at me and think, “oh yes, this woman really loves singing!”」

Toki wo Koeru Yoru ni ~ English lyrics Tsubasa ~ Englisch lyrics

My Sweet Valentine’s Memory

While thinking of a childhood anecdote that “transcends time” and is related to Valentine’s Day Wakana ended up introducing her favourite chocolate "I remember handing out chocolates to the boys I liked back in primary school...*laughs* I was obsessed with pretty wrappings and other stuff. I would go to fancy shops to buy my wrapping kits. In primary school I was really into accessories like that." Did you make the chocolate yourself? "No, I usually bought it at the store *laughs*. I always wanted to do the chocolate myself but when I asked my mother about it she told me, “that’s way too troublesome!!” So I gave up on that idea *laughs*. This has nothing to do with Valentine’s Day but my friends and I would often gather at one of our homes to make sweets together. We made cookies and pralines." Do you like chocolate in general? "Truth is, I have never really liked chocolate all that much but there is one exception, Lindt chocolate, I love it so much! Long ago while I was in New York for a work trip I came across this awesome chocolate by chance, they were handing out Lindors at a store. These balls are so rich and delicious, even if you just have one you will be completely satisfied. It’s a beeline to happiness. What exactly do you recommend about Lindt? "There is a different taste to the milk! There are also lots of different limited flavours such as caramel, sea salt or strawberry. I think white-chocolate-chip might be my favourite, it’s so good~!! During the Valentine's Day season you will find lots of cute and pink chocolates. If you get the chance please be sure to try some of them (even if it’s not for Valentine’s Day) *laughs*”

#kalafina #my translations #my scans #b-pass #wakana #toki wo koeru yoru ni #tsubasa #long text post #valentine's special

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ladytelos · 6 years ago

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Too Different ( Lotor x Reader) ***spoilers***

I don’t know how well I did in the angst department lol. I tried to make the reaction as real as possible but I’ve never experienced it so I tried lol. Sorry if this is trash. I suck at dialog so its kinda sparse, yip yip.

I used the F-word once, idk if there are any sensitive babies out here but just fyi xD

A dreaded feeling of nausea and anxiety laced your stomach with an upsetting tenacity. No matter how many times you wished the feeling away it would go nowhere. You would’ve liked to been able to say that you had no idea why this was happening but you had a very clear idea.

It was the same feeling that started every time you heard Lotor was once again alone with the Altean princess.

Things had been so different for the two of you since the tide had turned and Lotor sided with voltron. You hadn’t been very confident in what his motivations were for this turn in loyalties but even so, you followed him.You grasped for the love of your life with both hands tightly wound.

But, despite this, recently it felt like you had been losing him.

You had known Lotor a ways before anything revolving Voltron became a valid concern. You would spend days researching topics on the many cultures that had been found in the galaxy. Your thirst for knowledge often unquenchable.

Lotor had found you one of those days, reading on a race he thought no one of the generations had even heard of. You found yourself a book on Altean culture hidden deep inside of the libraries of the main fleet where you were stationed. Out of curiosity Lotor began a conversation with you on the reasons you had decided to read such an old thing. The two of you found that you both had an incredible reserve of curiosity towards other cultures unlike your own. That it started in the fact that both of you had diluted Galran blood.

It wouldn’t be long until you found yourself planted on Lotor’s fleet, having long conversations with during your free time about a vast array of topics.

The passion in your heart would soon gravitate the prince’s own towards you. When you were found to be his lover, very few were surprised by the fact. You were never found too far from him and if anyone dared harm you they would face the most severe of punishment.

There was not a time happiness found you more. You truly believed that your heart would lay safe in his hands for the rest of eternity. Now you weren’t so sure.

Lotor and Allura began to grow uncomfortably close, spending hours upon hours alone in an Altean research center. Even if they weren’t alone, they might as well have been. Sharing whispered conversation with each other that only resulted in the feeling of glass being shoved into your heart.

Everytime you laid your eyes on Allura it only suficied to make your stomach even more weak. Your unquelled mind would run rampant with useless imaginings.

Of how much better she was than you, of how perfectly fit she and Lotor were. You and Lotor had alway seemed like two cloths of mismatched patterns forcibly sewn together, like an oxymoron. It had never accomplished in bothering you until these moments. She was a beautiful Altean princess, with a strong will and friendly attitude. How could anyone ever match Lotor more?

Yet you never mentioned a word of this to Lotor, as not to seem foolish. You trusted that he would never do anything to harm you.

That feeling in your stomach only grew as time went on, especially when his time with you got shorter and Allura’s longer.

Conversations recently were short and skin deep at best. At times you swore there was a tone of irritation in his voice that made your heart squeeze. Too many times were you supposed to be doing something together and were blown off, only to learn he was spending his time with Allura.

The two of them had been spending almost every waking moment on the comet ships together. Forcing yourself to be okay with it felt like a hot coal forced down your throat, but it was important to Lotor so you endured. His happiness meant more to you than some jealousy, and you knew Allura was the only one who could help.

‘That’s all he needs her for, and once its done everything will be fine’ Everyday you tried to convince yourself of this, and every day it felt less and less true.

When they finally finished the ships you felt relief for a brief period of time. Surely all of this doubt was coming to an end and your love with Lotor could once again be reassured. You didn’t know how wrong you were. Lotor and you had very little conversations these days but one bit of information had found its way to you. He and Allura were to venture into the quintessence field as he had wanted for so long. Despite the distance built between you, happiness flooded your veins when you heard.

You had wished them both well on their way, attempting to push down the feeling bubbling in your chest at the thought of them alone out there. You gave a quick kiss to Lotor’s cheek, telling him to come back home safe. The send off had felt odd, almost artificial. He had responded with a curt nod and an ‘of course’, as self assured as ever.

You decided against waiting around with the others in the main hub, the empty space allowed to much time to think. So you left to find yourself a distraction. You found yourself a little while later in the library of the Castle ship. Selecting a book that seemed interesting enough to hold your attention in the way you needed it to.

However, you found yourself having to reread too many pages. Your thoughts drifting off to the prince again. Subconsciously you knew the only remedy to them was the prince’s return.

When a few hours had passed by, finally there was a notification of a landing in the main hatch. Relief flooded your veins, you shot up placing the book down where it once had been and raced out the door. Running down the corridors as quickly as your feet could, you couldn’t wait to see your love. Even more so you wanted to take him to spend time with you, as reassurance after he was alone with Allura so long. Those bay doors were the only thing holding you back from him, and they couldn’t have opened fast enough.

Your feet screeched to a halt, your body processing what was in front of you faster than your mind could.

Allura and Lotor were standing there, kissing.

Your mouth fell open, and then would shut again, as if gasping for air. It was silent though, with words still processing in your brain. When the two parted the last thing they had been expecting was to see you standing there.

Lotor’s face looked shocked, but yet somehow, you saw not guilt in those eyes of his. Tears welled up faster than you could will them away.

Lotor took a step toward you, and at the same instance you took one step back. “(Y/n) I can explain-.” He started, holding a hand out. You shook your head and just kept stepping back.

“This isn’t what it looks to be, truly.” He kept stepping closer, your eyes kept on his form. Allura’s voice quipped from behind him.

“I swear (y/n) we weren’t thinking, this has never happened before.” Her eyes were pleading but in that moment all you could do is look at her and scoff. Quickly you turned as fast as you could, the need to run over taking you but a hand grasped on too quickly.

You stared with a fury into his eyes, “Don’t you fucking touch me. Don’t you dare touch me, ‘ it isn’t what it looks like?’ I’m not blind.” You yelled at him, the only thing swelling in your chest at the moment. His eyes looked wide, not believing the words that dropped so heavily from your mouth.

You couldn’t help the small, bitter giggle that left your mouth. “It’s not like its a surprise, I’ve been expecting it, I just hoped I was worth more to you, wasn’t I the fool.” You wrenched your arm away from him and turned to leave again.

“(Y/n) please I-.” “Save your breath, you’ll need it to kiss that princess of yours.” And with that you walked straight out the door. You stopped just outside, letting everything sink in further.

Your hand flew up to your mouth again as you let out a cruel sob. Part of you wasn’t surprised, but you had hoped fate would be kinder. Fate held no loyalty to you, that much was clear. Tears blurred your vision as you walked your way to your bedroom. Everything you had put into him every hope, every kind thought, what was it all for? You thought you had meant more to him than this.

A numbness overtook your veins as you collapsed onto the blankets of the bed. The warmth being the only comfort you could believe in right now. Thinking of Lotor only made you want to scream, tear something apart, and destroy it. Just like he did you. Whatever this feeling was it was different than the usual nausea, something worse.

You turned onto your back and stared at the white ceiling just above you as your nose kept running. Trying to collect whatever ability to breath you had, your mind thought back to the last couple of weeks. Of how stupid you felt for trusting him, in believing that if you loved him than he must love you too. And most of all you felt stupid for thinking someone like you and him ever belonged together. With sarcastic laugh you thought about how ironic this was.

Altean culture brought you together, and now its torn you apart.

#voltron #voltron season 6 spoiler #lotor x reader #prince lotor #vld lotor #voltron x reader #voltron imagines #Allura #voltron allura #voltron season 6

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allenmendezsr · 4 years ago

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End Limiting Beliefs

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Day One marks the beginning of the 360-Degree Life Turn via 8 Days to End Limiting Beliefs. During this exciting time, you will learn:

The true nature of personal beliefs

3 steps to identifying limiting beliefs

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Personal revolution – transforming a limiting belief to a transformational belief

Putting things into perspective: how a free man can be held prisoner by his own beliefs

What happens when you live a life full of limiting beliefs

The real root cause of limiting beliefs

Beliefs as symptoms and not the actual disease

Letting a belief ‘talk back’ to reveal its true character

360-degree life mapping – how to measure your progress with limiting beliefs

Freeing the mind from the strong hold of limiting beliefs

Developing the mindset needed to break free

Separating fact and fiction: are your beliefs facts or not?

Readying oneself for the 360 degree life turn

Energies and emotions – how limiting beliefs are fed and fattened on your expense

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The location of limiting beliefs and understanding why they are so hard to find in the first place

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How to destroy limiting beliefs with pure fact

The 8 common myths that can completely destroy a person’s chances of success

Formulating a new way of thinking about life’s potentialities

How to use limiting beliefs as the raw material for more powerful beliefs that are rooted in the positive/creative/productive

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Uncovering the true, irrational nature of fear and why it should never be used as a guide to anything in life

Why fear is never accountable but continues to dictate your life

The secret to using fear as a motivator

How to use fear constructively

Finding the Universe’s rewards by grabbing fear and using it as a compass

How fear can help you develop a more rewarding life

Situating fear within a new winner’s mindset

Finding the path that leads to success

Packing for the ride of your life

How to never fall victim to fear again

Uncover how doubt sabotages opportunities for success

Imploding doubt with action

Differentiating between plain doubt and true intuition

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Day Four reveals the cornerstone of a person’s life – his relationships. Are you involved in genuine relationships that nurture and help you achieve your dreams? If not, prepare yourself to learn:

How to deal with the possibilities of disappointments and why the latter must not be a brake but a gas pedal to better relationships

Liberating the mind from the fear of rejection

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Dealing with personal flaws and weaknesses

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Images and illusions – why beauty is a poor indicator of your likability as a unique and lovable individual

Discover what makes relationships work out – clue: it’s NEVER about money or luxurious living

The connection between truth and limiting beliefs

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Day Five

Have you ever felt that you will never measure up to anything? If you do, you may be dealing with limiting beliefs that center on perfectionism and failure. These limiting beliefs can be extremely toxic to people because they stifle creativity and force people into rigid, unattainable molds that never bring satisfaction or happiness to people. To some, perfectionism is a ‘requirement’ but in reality, it is never a key ingredient to success. In Day Five, I will teach you about:

How perfectionism ruins your true potentials

The negative impact of perfectionism on the human mind

How to act upon the impulse to be ‘perfect’ and win at the end

The secret to feeling worthy and proud of oneself even if you do not fit the mold of ‘perfection’

The difference between doing your best and striving to be perfect

The true value of obstacles and stumbling on the way to the top

Dealing with the idea that you have failed at something

Day Six

Day Six of 8 Days to End Limiting Beliefs is all about your finances and your beliefs regarding money and wealth. Too often people are stuck as to what they should believe when it comes to the acquisition of wealth. Limiting beliefs regarding wealth can cause wealth to stop coming. That is the primal law of universe – if you think you don’t deserve something, even secretly, you won’t get it. In this module you will learn:

The difference between working for money and having money work for you

The true nature of money and why it is not the root cause of evil

The role of passion in amassing wealth

How to combine passion, fun and wealth in one package that you can use again and again until you acquire the kind of wealth that you have always dreamed of

How the mind adapts to negativity and why you should never adapt to something that makes life difficult for you

Situation money in an abundant mindset

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Day Seven

Day Seven deals with another crippling theme: fear of the future. The modern man’s mind is often filled with countless anxieties and doubts regarding the future and the trouble it can bring. Mans’ general fear of change goes hand in hand with his fear of the future. Must you be trapped by your fear of the future so much so that you are unable to see the beauty of the present time? Here are the vital lessons that you will learn in Day Seven:

Choosing to be happy at the present time, at all times

Protecting yourself against beliefs that bar you from your personal desires

How to think of the future

Dealing with instability and uncertainty

How the present time can help you take control of what happens in the future

Discover the role of personal happiness in creating a brighter future

The importance of appreciation

How to expand your comfort zone

Using logic to destroy limiting beliefs regarding the future

The connection between your past and the limiting beliefs regarding the future

Positive affirmations to condition your mind

Why you should welcome uncertainty and surprises in the present time

The role of hope in sustaining your present and future

Day Eight

Day 8 deals with happiness, the strongest motivator in the known Universe. Happiness is often the motivator and end-goal of most, if not all, human endeavor. This is the reason why you must always choose to be happy even if it means letting go of limiting beliefs that have become part of your general thinking and behavior. In Day 8 you will learn more about the following:

Where happiness is really situated in your life

Choosing the beliefs that make you happy

How gratefulness can increase a person’s happiness and contentment

Making an effort to identify beliefs that may have been there since childhood

Reinventing your conception of change and what it entails in a person’s life

Learning how to be happy now with what you have

Does revenge truly make people happy?

Analyzing how forgiveness solves deeply-rooted pain and emotional scars

The number one enemy of happiness (you know him/her very well…)

Dealing with other people’s expectations

Is true happiness possible?

Scientific studies on happiness

How to change your current actions to make yourself happier than before

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smalleststress · 7 years ago

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all the moon related q's?? 🌜🌜🌜

Ask and ye shall receive, small warning I get pretty sappy.

Cosmos: What’s one thing you wish you could say to someone you are no longer friends with?

Hm, that’s a tough since I’m on good terms with the majority of people I’m not close with anymore so there isn’t much to say. Probably “I hope you are doing well, even if it’s without me.”

Galaxies: What Are Three Things You Want To Do Before You Die?

Take a month or so and just take pictures of places I mentally use as markers/associate strong memories with. Finish writing a novel-esk story for once. This is sappy but, have a small gay wedding.

Waxing: What Is Your Proudest Accomplishment?

Oh jeez, proudest? So far, becoming a better person and letting go of things that were keeping me from living my life.

Waning: What Is Your Biggest Regret?

Dating a guy honestly,,, If we are talking my whole life? Probably a mix between letting nostalgia keep me from progress/change and being an aggressive/hurtful person when I was a kid. It’s a wonder I had any friends back then really.

Full Moon: What Type Of Person Do You Hope To Be?

I’d like to be the type of person that someone can go to for comfort and vent, I’m already called the mom friend so I’m half way there.

Contemplation: If You Could Wake Up One Morning And Everything In Your Life Was Perfect, What Would That Look Like?

Most likely the same, except no one (Since the question is in my life, I guess this only really affects those who are in it) that I know would have monetary issues, health issues, and any thing they personally desire is available readily. In short, happier for others I suppose. I’m doing pretty okay rn so I’d look outwardly to make it perfect.

Night Light: Who/What Makes You Feel Safe?

Obvious answer is my girlfriend, she is someone I can always count on and can speak my mind to, we both have bad impulse control (I chugged a chocolate syrup bottle, she likes to go to abandoned buildings) but each others safety always comes first. A thing that makes me feel safe is fluffy blankets, the kind you would get as a kid with a pair of pajamas. I’m a very cuddly person and to have something warm surround me instantly helps me feel safe.

Ponder: What Do You Want To Do With The Rest Of Your Life?

I’m ( if I pass the test and such) going into the National Guard, so I imagine that will be a good chunk, afterwords my goal is to be a sort of therapist/counselor and then retire to become a gay hermit with a big dog in a small house/apartment.

Sunset: Who Is Someone You Thought Would Be In Your Life Forever, But You No Longer Talk To?

That’s a tough one, since I don’t think I’ve ever thought anyone would be in my life forever till within the recent years. I really can’t think of anyone, my grandfather when I was younger maybe?

Midnight: Are You A Different Person Late At Night Than In The Early Morning?

Somewhat, I’m more relaxed and thoughtful late at night but I tend to overthink things more, definitely more cuddly. Early morning I’m usually tired and have a short temper, not a good time for me.

Candle Light: Are You An Indecisive Person?

If this is any sort of insight, my girlfriend has dubbed me the indecisive one in the relationship (which is true). I tend to mull over life decisions for months at a time, years even, if I’m given the time to. I’m a good guesser so I am not stressed if I have to make a quick decisions but if it holds any sort of significant weight, I will probably take my time in choosing.

Reflection: Have You Ever Changed Something You Liked About Yourself To Satisfy Someone Else?

Not that I can remember. I’ve luckily always faked or had the confidence in myself to know that those I’d have to change my self for to make them happy are not people I care to be around. I like mostly everything about myself, and changing my entire self for someone isn’t something I’d consider an option, more likely to just not be around/with that person. Being a lone wolf in social situations can suck sometimes, but if I’m not comfortable with myself at the end of the day then I can’t be happy.

Sweet Dreams: Are You Happy?

Most of the time, yes. I have my ups and downs like everyone else but I’m a generally positive person. I’ve changed a lot of things about my self and the way I think/act, all of them have help me become a happier&better version of the person I used to be. Introspection, my dude, it’s hella helpful.

Nightmare: What Are You Most Afraid Of?

Being put somewhere high where I have no control or support, oddly specific, but that shit isn’t thrilling to me. Broadly, I fear for my loved ones safety, I am a very protective person towards the people I care about and wouldn’t hesitate to take a bullet for any of them. Them being put in any kind of dangerous peril instantly causes me to panic and have adrenaline flood my system.

Constellations: Who Is Someone You Could Talk To For Hours And Never Stop?

You probably already guessed it but, my girlfriend. Our dates are filled with us talking to one another and we have talked about everything from serious topics to me calling her a cryptid, I never get bored of our conversations.

Reminder: Who Is Someone You Will Never Forget?

Just one? I’ll dig real far back for this one then. There was this girl named Darya at my middle school in 6th grade that was a literal angel to me in a time where I had nearly zero friends (all my friends from elementary were in a separate part of the school). Darya had iron strained hair she put into ponytails, and warm brown eyes with dark skin (my memory isn’t too clear so I’m not sure exactly her appearance but I think this is right).

She was so kind to me and one day told me she had to leave to go to her father’s house, I was devastated to lose a friend like her. That day she gave me drawings she made that said “You Can Change The World” and coloring book pages she colored in, along with two art stickers she had been saving. She never returned to school after that day and I didn’t have a phone or number to try to contact her with. I still have all the items she gave to me, and I hope she is doing well.

11-11: What’s Something You Want, But Feel Like You Will Never Have?

Feel like I will never have? Probably complete serenity for life, I relax for a while but eventually I am anxious once again because of various things that I have to live with so, most likely I will never have it. It’s fine though, honestly. I’m quite happy the way I am.

Shooting Star: Who Is Someone You Trust To Help You Make The Right Decisions?

I’ll pick someone other then the people around me, since it’s multiple people I really trust to help me. Myself, or my gut feeling to be more specific. I don’t have an uncanny ability to choose the right path, but I would say I do better then just a blind guess. I have bad impulse control at moments, but I am indecisive with what matters and I give myself time to figure out what is best.

Earth: Where Do You Feel Most At Home?

My physical home is comforting, don’t get me wrong, but I feel most at home with her. Which is surprising to no one, considering how much I talk about my girlfriend. Being around her turns any place into somewhere I could call home, I was always homesick till I met her.

Soothe: What’s One Thing that Always Makes You Feel Better When You’re Upset?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9K-Ef-LCYv4

Harp version of Spirited Away’s One Summer Day, calms me down when I’’m feeling stressed, if I had to pick one.

Slumber: What’s One Thing That Helps You Fall Asleep When It Feels Impossible?

Well, that really depends on the reason. If its a bad thoughts type of sleep, I listen to MBMBAM or go through kind words my girlfriend sent me. If its I’m just too awake, I think of something to dream about (even though I don’t dream much anymore) and listen to peaceful music till I drift off to sleep.

#thank you for the ask!#askadork #anon #'hey look at me i did it way late #at least i finished all of them tho #now i shall eat then work #need to go run with my dog #i talked alot about my gf whoops #if that isnt me all the time tho #these were interesting to think about #anyeay #hope you all are having a good day #ill be on later probably

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badsithnocookie · 7 years ago

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Unification (3/?)

The following not-technically-a-morning, little seemed to have changed - for better or for worse. The Imperial lines were still holding - as were the Republic ones, as were the Alliance's. Proof, Eirn supposed, that- even if they weren't exactly evenly matched, there was all but a stalemate, and one that would not be broken without decisive action.

Eirn had not slept, much - had meditated, or at least attempted to, though Iokath's rhythms were simultaneously ordered and discordant in a way that even Nar Shaddaa had not been, and the presence of so many Jedi in such close quarters (not simply Jedi, but Jedi who opposed the Sith - as opposed, as it were, to Jedi willing to work alongside the same) did little for her ability to focus on anything but the desire she felt from them to plunge their lightsabers into her guts. Sleep had not come any easier; she wasn't about to drug herself while in the middle of not-technically-enemy territory, and so she'd lain awake in a tented corner on an uncomfortable cot, trying to resist the urge to pace and scream and only barely succeeding.

(She'd thought, guiltily, of Malavai; of his lack of any real reaction to her, and of her own sickened feeling of betrayal. He'd claimed to act against her, once, but it had been a flimsy act, desperation and insecurity creating a sucking vortex that could still have drowned them both, but this was something quite apart from that. He had sworn he would do everything, and then done nothing; even when her face was on bounty notices from one end of the galaxy to the other, he'd remained silent and distant. The contacts she'd had for him had gone dark, mailboxes and comm frequencies only returning errors when she tried to use them, and those she'd questioned had known nothing - but apparently even Acina had known where he was, who he was, and she'd said nothing. That idea infuriated her the most - that he'd had ample opportunity, and refused to even try-)

- which was why, come their briefing, Eirn was on her third mug of Republic-caf-substitute, a poor replacement for rest on any day but one she knew would be aided in its efforts soon enough by adrenaline and external pressure.

'Fact is,' Malcom was saying, 'None of us can afford to get bogged down here. Certainly not the Empire. Which means they're going to be looking to end this quickly.'

As was Malcom, Eirn reflected, though it was a thought she kept to herself. The truth was that she didn't want to be there any longer than she had to, either; hadn't wanted to be here at all, and only wanted to be here less as time passed. She was committed now, though - and was a Sith of her word, even if the Republic didn't seem to want to quite trust that.

'Lord Illte,' Malcom added, glancing to Eirn - and suddenly all eyes in the room were on her, a distinctly unpleasant feeling at the best of times. 'According to our intelligence, you and Major Quinn once had a- close working relationship. What can you tell us about him?'

Close working relationship. Eirn had spent too much time, not-technically-overnight, trying to remember if she'd been able to see his wedding ring, or if he'd been wearing regulation gloves with his uniform. The latter seemed most probable, but a part of her had kept tormenting the rest with the idea of his bare fingers, a public statement that he had shed more than simply their shared name.

(as though you're any better, Illte-)

'Major Quinn,' she replied, slowly - his rank, his name (like that - Quinn, unjoined from hers) alien and unpleasant in her mouth - 'Is an accomplished tactician. Empress Acina probably has him directing her offensive.'

He'd always been blind, though, to the games of Sith - whether wilfully or not, Eirn could never truly tell, but there'd always been gaps in his thinking. First with Baras, then her - and Vowrawn, and Acina, and every other Sith who'd tried to use her. To use them.

'But the Empire is used to- uneven odds. And Major Quinn in particular,' she mused, trying to keep her thoughts on-topic, and not entirely succeeding.

'Asymmetrical warfare is a specialty of Imperial forces,' Dorne added - nodding crisply to herself as she did so. 'If we hit their facilities, we can expect them to be dug in and prepared for superior numbers.'

Dorne's accent intrigued her, and Eirn itched to know what it was that had resulted in a Kaasi-accented woman at the left hand of the Republic's highest-ranking military official. There was a story there, and even as she knew it was none of her business, the part of her that envied Anya's bravery still wanted to know as many details as it could.

'Which is exactly why this needs to be a two-pronged attack. Cut the head off the snake,' Malcom replied, 'And the body becomes a lot easier to deal with.'

Malavai. Eirn didn't like the sound of that one bit - and rather hoped that the beheading could be kept symbolic. For a long moment, she regretted entirely this incredibly petty decision she'd made to side with the Republic, Acina's power hungry manipulativeness be damned - but she was stuck here, at least for now, and couldn't do much of anything for anyone if the Republic decided she was a danger, too.

'And how,' she just replied - trying to keep her tone even, and half convinced that not a single soul in the room was buying it, 'Do you intend to do that, exactly?'

'Our forces can hold their own with the Imps,' Malcom replied, flatly. 'But you know the Major, and Captain Dorne is an exemplary operative. She will be joining you in hitting their command structure directly.'

(Imps, he kept saying, and Eirn was unpleasantly reminded of the way Awenyth had sneered at her on the Yavin moon. Imps, she'd spat, only capable of following orders, incapable of thinking, and led by Sith, incapable of feeling-)

'To that end,' Malcom added, calling up a map on his holographic display, 'You'll first be hitting a weapons cache our scouts located when we first landed here. We didn't have time to investigate it much before the Imps showed up,' he continued, 'But I'm confident you'll find something there we can use to tip the balance.'

Which was as vague a plan as Eirn had ever heard, and she couldn't help but twitch her brow in response - a wary, mildly apprehensive expression that she forced off her face as soon as it was there. Not before Theron noticed, not if the amusement in his aura was anything to go by - but that was the only reaction that she got (that she noticed she got). It reminded her of the tasks that Baras had assigned her, during her apprenticeship; vague enough for plausible deniability, specific enough that there was something here he wasn't telling her.

'Take Captain Dorne with you,' Malcom added - somewhere between a suggestion and a request and an order, and Eirn didn't have the energy to argue. 'She is... uniquely qualified, when it comes to the Empire.'

Eirn did glance at Dorne, at that, who was just as unreadable as before - her expression professional, her aura smooth. In the manner of glass, at that; of a mirror, reflecting the moods around her but keeping what lay beneath locked tight, inscrutable and invisible. Mirrors could be shattered, of course, but Eirn had no desire to break the Republic woman, not least because it would jeopardise this already shaky alliance - that, and Dorne had hardly earned such an indignity.

(It occurred to her, of course, this could all be an elaborate trap; Eirn knew that the Republic had never looked kindly on Sith to begin with, and she- well, she'd have earned their ire even without her stint as Vitiate's right hand. There was a monetary value on her head that she was always surprised that nobody had ever tried to collect, and she wondered, at that, if this wasn't a fact that she would yet come to regret failing entirely to heed)

'Very well,' Eirn finally replied - offering Dorne what she hoped was a friendly smile, even as she doubted Dorne had any great desire to be friendly with tired Sith. Or any Sith, for that matter.

The scale of Iokath was something Eirn was certain she would always struggle with; she was not sheltered, by any stretch of the imagination, but the idea of a-

(a giant sphere, built around a star, not as armour for its inner planets, but- those worlds themselves the armour itself, the inner surface thereof playing the role of worlds that totalled more than this system would have ever had before, the home and final resting place of everything that had once dwelled here. Not just the people - but its plants, from what she could recall, and likely animals as well - at least once, at any rate)

The weapons depot, though, was not close, even by Iokath's standards, and the route there was patrolled by Iokath's own droids - the self-propelled remnants of the intelligence that had run this place, itself one of the final legacies of the people who had built this place. They, like the Sith, had loved war - had delighted in it, exterminating whole worlds simply because they could, and in the end had fallen victim to it, warring on themselves and, ultimately, losing.

(A part of Eirn knew better than to hope that the Sith might end differently; she wanted to, with all her heart, but had been a semi-willing party to enough of Baras and Acina's games to know that it was a futile, delusional hope at best)

Conversation, though, was blissfully nonexistent; they were all there to do a job, and even Theron seemed more focused than chatty, despite his usual penchant for the dramatic. He, though, had been preoccupied since they'd landed, and all the more so since they'd allied with the Republic. A symptom of his poor relationship with his father, perhaps; Eirn was hardly one to judge people for fallings-out with relatives, even if she equally appreciated that he'd kept some kind of professional facade when Malcom had been doling out suggestions phrased like orders.

'Well. Not quite what I expected to find here.' It was him that spoke, though, when they reached the cache - who'd taken point, to Dorne's visible annoyance, and Eirn's continued bemusement. Usually he was content to let her be the meatshield, but he was wandering this battlefield with a sort of confidence that didn't entirely suit him.

The cache was about what Eirn had expected - crates of entirely alien technology, marked in some script that looked nothing like anything she'd ever seen outside of this benighted Sphere. There was no guarantee they were weapons, of course - outside, perhaps, of the fact that weaponry had been this place's only purpose, and not for the first time, Eirn felt a steely determination to deny this place and its trinkets to the Empire.

What was unexpected, though - and yet not a surprise in the slightest - was the throne at the far end of the cache's main room. It was definitely a throne - a capital T Throne, even, which hummed faintly with the Force in a way that only the Zakuulan Throne had, and not for the first time, Eirn remembered that this place had been the Fleet's birthplace, too. This Throne wasn't empty, either - even if it wasn't exactly occupied. What remained of its last occupant was mostly some kind of armoured suit - proof that whoever this had once been had been humanoid, but little seemed to remain of- who, or what, it was.

'Look on the bright side,' Eirn just sighed - reaching for some deliberately inappropriate humour. 'Whoever that is won't be pointing these guns at us.'

Theron snorted, but said nothing - instead busying himself with what looked like a data node, attempting to slice into the system. Dorne, at her remark, just winced - about what she expected from a professional, and Eirn wasn't sure what to make of it.

Dorne was studying her, too - Eirn could feel it, and for a moment, she was reminded of her early days travelling with M- with Quinn, when her less than orthodox beliefs were things that still confounded him - were still risks, that he might yet report her failings to his Master - or to some other, far worse, authority.

'Something bothering you, Captain?' she managed, eventually - realising, as she spoke, that it probably sounded as much like a threat as anything, but it was too late to shove the words back in.

'...No, m- Commander Illte,' Dorne replied, slightly hesitantly. It was a lie, of course, but one that Eirn wasn't entirely certain how to go about challenging without antagonising her entirely.

'Friendly advice,' Theron immediately cut in. 'Don't call her Commander. And definitely don't call her Wrath.'

Eirn shot Theron a glare for that before she could stop herself, not least because of the fact she loathed being discussed in the third person.

'What've you found, Theron? Anything useful?' It was a topic she dropped, though - discarded, in the hope that it wouldn't be picked up again.

'Yeah,' Theron replied, after a moment - slightly distracted, as he worked on breaking into the system. 'Looks like this was used to try and control the superweapon. If I'm reading this right,' he added, 'This isn't the original control system, but... one created by a rival faction of Iokath's creators.'

He paused, at that - looking back to what remained on the corpse on the throne, an ominous figure if there ever had been one. Eirn had half a mind to take a holo for Acina, but was equally certain that if she did, the other Sith would only see it as a challenge - or a threat.

'We know that the creators of this place wiped themselves out in a civil war. If I'm reading this right... our dead friend here is the one responsible,' he added - glancing at the remains of the alien, again. 'They tried to slice into the system, triggered some failsafe, and...'

'No more life on Iokath,' Eirn replied, after a moment. Another world, scoured of life; not in the way that Ziost and Nathema had been, perhaps, but she doubted that had been much comfort to those who'd died here.

'Sir,' Dorne started - pausing, as she attracted the attention of both Eirn and Theron, 'If I may- Am I understanding correctly, that this weapon is controlled from-'

Her gaze flickered to the throne, at that - the final resting place of one Iokath's original creators, if Theron was correct.

'Apparently,' Eirn replied, frowning to herself. It made sense, of a sort; the Fleet were Throne-controlled, too. Apparently the builders of Iokath had liked their furniture to be functional as well as needlessly ornate.

'Theron,' Eirn added, 'Pull as much information out of the system as you can. But... try not to set anything off,' she added, wincing as she did so. The last thing they needed was to accidentally fry the place. 'If we're going to destroy this thing, we need as much information on it as we can get.'

'Already on it,' he replied - his attention sliding back to the datapad he had hooked up to Iokath's systems,

Dorne hesitated, again - frowning to herself, as she studied the Throne - and Theron, at that, as he worked. 'So- it's possible that- someone with access to the system could- attempt that again? Slicing in, without getting access to the main system, and then...'

That wasn't a possibility that Eirn liked the sound of in the slightest, and- a part of her knew immediately that it was exactly the kind of foolishness that Acina would attempt - if not in person, then in proxy. And Malavai- well, he'd never been one to question orders, and especially not ones that came from a Sith.

'They'd have to be incredibly stupid,' Theron volunteered, glancing pointedly to the corpse they were sharing the room with.

'Or desperate,' Eirn added - and nothing summed up the feeling that the Empire liked to instil in its people like desperate.

'That's precisely my concern,' Dorne replied, just as crisply as before. 'If someone were to attempt this a second time, and failed-'

'We need to find this weapon,' Eirn interrupted, 'And destroy it, before that can happen.' Or at the very least-

(focus, Illte-)

'In my experience, sir,' Dorne started, oblivious to Eirn's inner monologue, 'Safely destroying something of this- magnitude will take-'

'Time,' Eirn agreed, 'And expertise.' And agreement, which Eirn wasn't entirely certain she would get - not from Lana, at any rate.

'Yes, sir. We may be able to assemble the expertise, but I find it unlikely that the Empire will afford us the time.' Dorne was not the font of optimism and good news that Eirn wanted her to be, and it was difficult not to resent her at least a little because of it.

'Well, then,' Eirn replied, 'That just makes it all the more urgent we chase the Empire back to Kaas.'

That, at the very least, did not get any argument.

#swtor #war for iokath #my writing #ficlet: unification #outlander!eirn #jace malcom #theron shan #elara dorne

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joshuaseggtarteu · 7 years ago

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Unrequited Love, Until It's Not (Ren/Minki Model AU)

AN: Wow it’s been forever since I actually finished and posted some writing, I feel pretty accomplished right now lol. Thank you anon friend for submitting this request, and I’m sorry I made you wait so long! Honestly, this is my second smut and I’m not sure how I feel about it, I really hope I did a good job. Ren deserves better than my amateur writing, but I did my best. <3 WARNINGS: smut, self-hate/body shaming (it’s really slight, but still there)

Summary: Envying your fellow models was normal, encouraged even. Envy made you strive to do your absolute best, at least that’s what your agent kept telling you. The feelings you had towards Ren were different though, they were much stronger.

He was perfect. From the way, he radiated confidence with every step he took, to the way he managed to look absolutely flawless without even trying. Yes, Choi Minki was perfect, and you hated him for it. In the nearly two years that you have been working with Minki - or Ren as he preferred to go by, you have come to despise everything about him.

But how could you not? In the modeling business envying your fellow models was normal, encouraged even. Envy made you strive to do your absolute best, at least that’s what your agent kept telling you. The feelings you had towards Ren were different though, they were much stronger.

He seems to have a way of making everything look so easy and effortless, not to mention look absolutely stunning in any outfit he is given to wear, and you mean it when you say any. It just isn’t fair that he looks better in a skirt and blouse then you do, and what makes it worse is that he knows it too.

“Oh y/n, we both know this colour doesn’t flatter you nearly as well as it does me.” The colour he refers to is the lavender of the skirt he’s wearing along with a pearly white button up.

“Shut up Ren” you spit, your arms crossed over your chest and an annoyed look plastered on your face. The two of you were backstage getting ready for your division to walk the runway. As if hating Ren wasn’t enough, you somehow always ended up in the same section as him or partnered with him for most fashion shows. This time you were both modeling Pledis’s new Spring Fashion line and were partnered to walk out together as well.

“Just because you can pull off just about any outfit-”

“Not just about, I can pull off any outfit.” He smirks and you have to resist the strong urge to hit him.

“Fine, whatever. My point is, it doesn’t give you the right to put the rest of us down about it.”

“Sweet y/n,” he chimes teasingly “it’s not like I asked to look this beautiful.” He tosses a lock of hair over his shoulder to emphasize his unattainable beauty.

Before you can rebut one of the backstage managers approaches you. “The Spring Fashion line is up next, are you two ready?”

“Yeah, we’ll be right out,” you say and watch her leave. You turn to speak to Ren again: “don’t let your overblown ego show too much out there, I don’t need you making me look bad.” With that, you turn on your heels and leave the room to line up with the other models in your division. Ren chuckles quietly to himself shaking his head before following you out to the stage.

You watch as the other models walk out, two by two strutting themselves with confidence. You and Ren are the last in line so you still have to wait for two more pairs to go before you. As you approach the front of the line the familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach takes over and you bite the inside of your gum anxiously. It’s silly for you to still be feeling nervous seeing as you’ve been working in this industry for two years now, but still, the butterflies come every time, right before you step on the catwalk.

The pair in front of you is beginning to walk back so you and Ren get the okay from your manager to go out. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves and make your way around the curtain and onto the catwalk. Instantly, you are blinded by the flashes of hundreds of cameras. This at least, you have grown used to and your eyes adjust after a second or two. With your posture straight and shoulders back, you strut. Ren matches each of your steps with one hand on his hip and a bold expression on his face. You feel the butterflies returning so you force yourself to just look forward, hoping they will go away.

You reach the end of the catwalk and pose; one hand holding the front of the denim jacket you’re modeling over a white floral patterned dress and the other hanging loosely by your side. You lean towards the center of the catwalk and feel your shoulder brush against Ren’s. Picking a spot in the room to stare at you tilt your head slightly back and to one side wearing a bold and daring expression and freeze while the photographers take your picture. After about a minute you turn sideways so that your body is facing Ren, but you continue to look forward and he does the same. With your front hand on your hip, you bend one leg and pose again. Ren casually rests a hand on your shoulder, tilting his head back slightly and freezing also.

As you start to walk back, the rest of the models in your section come out for one final appearance. You and Ren take your places at the back of the lines and wait. You must admit, it caught you off guard when he placed his hand on your shoulder, but you decide to brush it off as him just pleasing the photographers.

One of the perks of standing in the back is that not many people are paying attention to you, which allows you to take the risk of looking around. You let your eyes scan the room, seeing only dark figures and flashing lights since all the overhead lights are pointed towards the catwalk. Your eyes land on Ren and find him looking back at you with a smile on his face. He’s posture is so laid back and relaxed, you only wish you could be like that. Even when your eyes meet, he doesn’t look away until it’s time to walk off stage.

“Good job everyone! You all did great!” your manager applauses when you are all backstage again. She goes around giving each of the models feedback, which is something she does after every show. She makes her way towards you, stopping at your partner first.

“Ren, excellent as always. I saw Park Jin Young watching you closely,” she says with a smile “if we can get the JYP company to invest in this line, we could take Pledis Fashion to the next level and you could possibly become the face of this company.”

“Manager-nim you flatter me, but I’m sure I’m not the only one he was looking at. Y/n was right there next to me after all.” He shoots you a sideways smile which you scoff at.

“Ah yes, Y/n, you were excellent today! With your bold expressions, I loved it.”

The look in her eye said she was building you up for something, she never just gave you a compliment and you couldn’t help be hate her for it. “But..” you say, inviting her to continue with the criticism.

“But, you walked out nervous again. If I could see it, they could see it. You’ve been modeling for 2 years now, you need to get this under control.”

You take a deep breath and stare at the ceiling, this isn’t the first time your visible nervousness has come up in discussions, but every time it has, you either end up in an argument or storming off in a fit of rage. “You know I’m doing my best to hide it” you reply exasperated.

“I do, but I was thinking.. maybe it’s time you had someone help you get rid of your butterflies.”

You stare at her with wide eyes, scared to hear what she’s about to say, “who did you have in mind?”

Her eyes fall on Ren and you don’t even wait for her to say it. “Oh hell no! I don’t need anyone’s help! Especially, not his.” Before anyone could respond to your outburst you storm off to go get changed.

Your manager and Ren stand in silence for a moment, the weight of your words still linger in the air. “Don’t take her words to heart, Ren. You know how she can be.”

“Yeah, I guess” is all he says before also heading off to change.

***

The next day you walk into work determined to get rid of your butterflies once and for all. You enter the showroom and stand in front of the catwalk, “I have nothing to be afraid of” you say, climbing the stairs to stand on top. You face the empty room before you and shut your eyes imagining it is full of people. “I can do this,” you whisper and take a step forward. Eyes still closed, you continue to walk, conscious of the slight stiffness of your posture and how shaky your breaths are coming out. You walk slowly counting each step as you go. At twenty you open your eyes and find yourself two steps away from the end of the stage. Now that you know how long it is you can keep your eyes shut without worrying about walking right off.

You walk the catwalk about 5 times before you feel yourself relax and your breathing steady. “See,” you tell yourself, “I don’t need his help.”

Feeling more confident now, you head to the back to find an outfit you can model. After going through a couple, you settle on an elegant black evening gown. It’s not the style you're used to modeling in, but since you’re feeling confident you decide: “why not.”

Slipping into the dress you find a pair of silver heels and jewelry to match. You walk over to the mirror to check yourself out before you go back on the catwalk. The dress is low cut with thin straps and is absolutely stunning in every way, except for the way it closely hugs your center.

You pout and poke your stomach frowning, “fat” you say in disgust. Continuing to examine yourself, you move up to your face. “Ugh, why am I so ugly?” you ask yourself as you pull at the skin under your chin.

“You’re kidding, right?” you spin around to find the source of the voice, almost twisting your ankle from the momentum. Ren stands in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown visible on his face. With the hair extensions from the day before now gone, his short brown hair sits neatly atop his head.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, wondering how long he had been standing there.

“You can’t honestly stand in front of that mirror and tell me what you see is ugly.”

You are taken aback by his words and have to take a moment to recover. “Alright,” you start slowly, “what do you see when you look at me then?” you weren’t sure what you were expecting to be his answer. As far as you knew, you hated him and he hated you, that’s just the way things have always been. But there’s something in the sad look he gives you that makes you wonder if maybe you are wrong.

He walks forward as he speaks, closing the distance between you: “when I look at you, I see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I see a woman who can turn every head just by walking into a room but is too self-conscious to see it herself.” He’s closed the gap and now stands just centimeters away from you, so close that you can feel his warm breaths hit you own cold skin. “And I see,” his eyes lock on yours and you can’t will yourself to look away, “a woman so blinded by envy, that she can’t see my love for her.”

You stand in silence for what feels like an eternity. His eyes still hold yours as he waits for a response to his confession. You honestly didn’t know what to say. How could you have had it so wrong? Choi Minki was in love with you? It couldn’t be possible. Your mind thinks back to all the times he teased you. You took it as genuine attempts to hurt you, but maybe he was only joking around. Trying to get a smile or a chuckle out of you or anything else that might imply that you didn’t hate him as much as you thought you did- wait, thought? No. You hated him, didn’t you?

You scrunch your eyes shut. If there was a possibility that you had your own feelings classified wrong too, now was the time to figure it out. “Y/n..” he hesitates, beginning to regret his rash decision to confess. “Shh” is all that leaves your lips as you rack your brain for answers. What was it he had said? So blinded with envy? Had you turned your jealousy into hatred, or had you just changed the name to justify the feeling? Another thought came to mind and the realization hit you like a wave.

You open your eyes and stare at the man before you. “It was never the modeling that made me nervous,” he frowns his brows not seeing where you were going with this. “From the very beginning, we’ve been partnered together for shows or put in the same line. It’s not going out on the catwalk that gives me butterflies, it’s you.”

“I make you nervous?” his eyes get sad and it hurts you to look at them.

“No, that’s not what I mean. You’re right I do envy you and it has made me blind, to a lot of this actually.” The next part you say quickly, as to not hurt him anymore: “I convinced myself I hated you because I didn’t want to admit to myself that I like you. You’re so perfect and I never thought I’d be good enough for you. That’s why being so close to you on stage makes me nervous, but I tricked myself again into believing that it was all the people watching, when it was only ever you.”

It was your turn to wait for a response now, though he didn’t make you wait long. “Y/n, would you do me the honour of going on a date with me?”

If you’re being honest with yourself, a part of you had expected him to kiss you there and then. But still, you let a smile creep onto your face before replying: “I would love too.”

***

It’s just after noon when you hear a knock at your front door. You put the final touches on your makeup and give yourself a quick once-over in the mirror before answering the knock. Ren stands on the other side wearing a black button up shirt and ripped denim jeans. He holds a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a picnic basket in the other.

“Are you ready for our date?” he asks cheekily when you open the door.

“Yes, just let me put these in some water” you answer, accepting the flowers from him, “They’re beautiful, thank you.”

You find a vase to fill with water and put the flowers in, then return to the door where Ren waits patiently. “Okay, let’s go.”

The two of you walk hand in hand to the park near your house. It’s almost surreal how beautiful and perfect the weather is, like right out of a fairytale. Birds are chirping, the sun is shining and the sky is painted bright blue.

You walk through the park, watching children play as you go. It’s not until you reach the lake that you stop. “A picnic by the lake, how cheesily romantic of you” you tease.

“Well, I felt that you were lacking cheesy romance in your life. Unless you don’t like it?”

You laugh and shake your head, “I love it.”

You help him spread the picnic blanket and lay out the food before throwing back and looking over the lake. “isn’t it just breathtaking” you say, not taking your gaze off the body of water.

“Sure, but not as breathtaking as you.”

You sit upright glaring at him, “you’re such a tease” you say laughing and grab a sandwich from the plate in front of you. The next little while is spent eating sandwiches and talking. You may have worked with Ren for two years, but you were finding out now that you know close to nothing about him.

“You do not still watch Pokémon” you’re doubling over with laughter causing him to pout at your reaction.

“I have dedicated myself to following Ash on his journey, however long that may be.”

“Ash has been ten years old for the past twenty years, and in twenty years, he still hasn’t been able to become a Pokémon master. If he hasn’t done it yet, I doubt he ever will.”

He gasps dramatically, “I’m going to tell him you said that.”

“Go right ahead, and while you’re at it let him know that I’d beat him in a battle any day.”

“I highly doubt that, seeing as you can’t even protect your own food.” Right as he says it he leans over and takes a bite of your sandwich smiling up at you playfully.

“You’re so childish, why have I never seen this side of you.”

“I consider it to be more playful, and you have seen it. You just never took it the right way.”

You let his words sink in and think about all the encounters the two of you have had at work. Looking back now you can see how his actions could be considered playful if you had just been willing to accept it. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you, Ren.” The undeniable guilt is building up inside of you: “ Why are you so willing to overlook how awful I’ve been to you?

His smile disappears and is replaced with a serious expression. “Y/n, I’ve waited two years for a moment like this to come along, where I could take you out and show you how much you mean to me. Why should I prolong it furthered just because you misunderstood me in the past? You know how I feel about you now, don’t you?”

It’s not a question he wants to hear the answer to, but one he wants to feel. Leaning towards you, his eyes flutter shut as he brings his face closer to yours. You’re not sure if this is what you want but your body betrays your mind and you find yourself eliminating the last bit of space between you, your lips connecting with his.

Any doubts you had before are gone. When you kiss him it feels like all of your senses go into overdrive. The whole world melts away except for you and him and your high senses are taking in his every last detail. The smell of his cologne is filling your nostrils and his touch is burning into your skin in the most pleasurable way. Before you know it he has you lying flat on the blanket as he positions his body over top of you, kissing you deeply.

Lost in the feeling of each other, the two of you forget that you are in a public place. From somewhere in the distance you hear a short “ehem” the brings you back to reality. You feel Ren’s body shift and then leave you completely. “What’s wrong?” you ask pouting and finally opening your eyes again. A woman stands above you with her hand on her hips and a crossed look on her face.

“Hi, I sorry for interrupting the moment you two were having, but you seemed to have forgotten that this is a public park, with children present. So, if you wouldn’t mind continuing your date somewhere else please.”

As annoyed as she is she keeps a kind tone in her voice so you accept her request with a shy “sorry” and begin to pack your food back into the picnic basket. “My apartment isn’t too far from here if you want to..” there’s something in his voice that sound all too suggestive and you can’t help but smirk.

“Lead the way Mr.Choi.” He chuckles at your response leading you out of the park.

The walk to his apartment feels much longer than it actually is. The feeling of his lips still linger on your own and you’re eager to have him on you again. He leads you around a corner where you come face to face with a deluxe apartment building, probably 20 stories high. “Here we are,” he says guiding you through the main doors. You take the elevator up to the 15th floor and neither of you speaks the whole way up. The air around you is growing thick as you both take turns stealing glances at each other and let forbidden thoughts fill your mind.

“My apartment is just down this hallway; 15B.” you follow his hand with your eyes and can see the door to his apartment halfway down the hall. Your stomach does a flip with excitement when the realization sinks in about how close you are and what you’re about to do.

The other side of the door reveals a very modern styled apartment. The walls are painted a solid grey colour, the floor is white tile, and the furniture is black with grey, white and blue accessories. The wall in front of you is lined end to end with windows, giving you an excellent view of the city and a black cushion runs across the sill making it the perfect place for late night thinking.

“Like what you see?” His question breaks you out of your thoughts and you realize that you haven’t moved from the front door yet.

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous” you reply feeling slightly embarrassed.

“I would give you a tour but,” he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you close to him “I was hoping you’d want to pick up where we left off at the park?”

With your bodies so close together you can feel the heat radiating off of both of you, the heat that never quite left to begin with. You grin before pulling him in for a kiss. His lips mold with yours perfectly and he leans in to deepen the kiss. Before it can go any further you pull away making him whine from the lack of contact: “that’s about where we left off right?”

A grunt is the only response you get before he takes your hand and quickly leads you to his bedroom. The light grey walls and blue duvet are the only things you get to see before Ren has you pinned down on the bed and proceeds to leave kisses down the side of your neck. You're like putty in his hands and it doesn’t take long before your mind goes blank with pleasure and you’re moaning his name.

“Already moaning for me and I haven’t even taken your clothes off yet.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” you ask, beginning to tug at the buttons of his shirt. He laughs at your eagerness allowing his hands to glide down your body to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head with ease. Once it’s off he goes to the button of your pants stopping to take off his now opened shirt and throw it to some part of the room. You bite your lip at the sight of his bare chest.

When both of your clothes have been shed he moves your body higher up on the bed then sits back to look at you. “God, you’re so beautiful.” Your cheeks go red he and he brushes a hand gently over one, letting his nails lightly graze your throat as he continues to your shoulder and then down your arm. The touch is light and smooth sending chills through your body. Once he reaches your hand, he slips his fingers between yours, locking your hand in his.

Your fingers close around his own as he leans down to kiss you again. You lift your head off the bed meeting his lips, your eyes fall shut as you hum in content. Pushing his body up against yours, he massages your lips with his own before brushing your bottom lip with his tongue asking for entry. Your tongues twirl as he explores the inside of your mouth. Your free hand finds its way into his hair and his own gets a firm grasp on your hip keeping you in place beneath him.

Your other hand is moved above your head as he grinds his front against yours causing a pleasurable yet almost unbearable friction. Your moan is muffled by his lips still on yours, you try to raise your hips to increase your pleasure but his grip holds you down.

His lips leave yours and it’s your turn to whine. “Do you want to feel more?” he whispers in your ear.

“Please.”

With that, he makes quick work of pulling a condom out of his nightstand and rolling it onto his hard and leaking member. You lay back on the bed taking in how sexy he looks as he lines himself up with your entrance but doesn’t move. You give him a look, silently asking what’s wrong.

“I don’t want to hurt you”

“You won’t, I’ll be fine.” You say reassuringly.

He nods and slowly pushes into you. Your walls are tight around his member, but the pain is minimal still. He shoves in fully then pauses to ensure you’re okay. A light squeeze of your hand lets him know you are and he starts to move inside of you. The quickening pace of his thrusts has you groaning with pleasure beneath him. Your nails dig into his back and you let your head fall back.

“Oh Ren,” you groan when he finds your sweet spot. Grinning at the condition he has you in he continues to hit your g-spot over and over again, basking in the sounds of the immense pleasure he’s making you feel. You wrap one leg around him, letting your bodies move together with each powerful thrust.

“Does this feel good?”

“Soo good!”

Your words are like fuel causing him to tighten his grip on your hip and increase his speed inside of you. You feel the tightness in your stomach and pull his head down for another kiss and right before you go over the edge. Your vision blurs as you are consumed with the shockwaves of your high. You let your arms fall limp on the bed whilst Ren continues to pound into you, your body twitching slightly from the sensitivity.

His body glistens with sweat as he chases his own release. Through hooded eyes you watch his own squeeze shut and his head fall forward as he releases into the condom. He rides out his high, and carefully pulls out, collapsing next to you on the bed. You stay like that for some time, letting you pants for breath be the only sound in the room. Having regained his strength, he removes the condom tossing it in the bin in the corner of the room, then wraps his arms around your waist rolling you over so that you’re laying on his chest.

“You know, I waited two years to be with you,” you look at him attentively and hope that what he says next is good, “and now that I’m with you, I can honestly say that every second of waiting was worth it.”

You feel your heart swell and you snuggle up against his chest. “So cheesy” you reply affectionately.

“Only for you.”

He pulls the duvet over you both, engulfing you in its softness. You shut your eyes letting your mind drift. Thoughts of walking the runway alongside Ren fill your head and this time it doesn’t make you nervous, but rather excited and warm on the inside. Knowing that he’ll always be there to boost you up when your confidence runs low and you feel like you’re not good enough. And at that thought, let yourself drift into a pleasant sleep.

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newstfionline · 7 years ago

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What you learn about the United States after you leave it

By Ishaan Tharoor, Washington Post, September 11, 2017

In a recent excerpt from her new book, American journalist Suzy Hansen described her bemusement when a friend in Istanbul suggested to her that the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, had been somehow planned by the U.S. government.

“Come on, you don’t believe that,” said Hansen.

“Why not?” snapped back her friend, identified as Emre. “I do.”

“But it’s a conspiracy theory.”

Emre laughed and said: “Americans always dismiss these things as conspiracy theories. It’s the rest of the world who have had to deal with your conspiracies.”

This pronouncement prompted Hansen, an accomplished storyteller and reporter who has written powerfully about recent political events in Turkey, to reflect on what may underlie her friend’s animus. Her much-acclaimed new book, “Notes from a Foreign Country: An American Abroad in a Post-American World,” is a memoir of a young American who moves abroad and slowly grapples with how the rest of the world sees her nation--and how little her nation really sees the world.

She looks in particular at the extent to which U.S. foreign policy has shaped politics, societies and the fates of ordinary people elsewhere. In one anecdote, when Hansen asks an Iraqi man what his country “was like in the 1980s and 1990s, when he was growing up,” he replies: “I am always amazed when Americans ask me this. How is it that you know nothing about us when you had so much to do with what became of our lives?”

Sixteen years after al-Qaeda terrorists attacked the United States, we’re still living with the awful repercussions of that assault. American troops are still locked in battles in Afghanistan, where Islamist extremist groups still exist. American forces are still waging military campaigns in Iraq, where a 2003 U.S. invasion in the wake of 9/11 became one of the most destabilizing events in the Middle East for a generation.

“I began to wonder whether there was much difference between a foreigner’s paranoia that the Americans planned September 11,” Hansen mused, “and the Americans’ paranoia that the whole world should pay for September 11 with an endless global war on terror.”

The impact of American power on the global stage is, of course, complex and uneven. For all the profound harm the United States has caused over a century of military interventions and coup plots around the world, there is also the considerable prosperity guaranteed by decades of a de facto Pax Americana in East Asia and Western Europe.

But Hansen is more focused on the almost unthinking belief in American “exceptionalism” that she and myriad other Americans grew up with in the 1990s, an era of post-Cold War optimism and confidence in the superiority of the American project and in American identity itself.

“This was a kind of nationalism so insidious that I had not known to call it nationalism; this was a self-delusion so complete that I could not see where it began and ended, could not root it out, could not destroy it,” she wrote.

In an essay that ran in The Washington Post over the weekend, Hansen hones in on the depth of this “self-delusion”:

“Are ordinary people responsible for their governments’ foreign policy? It’s hard to blame the millions of Americans living in poverty, who have been just as victimized by the injustices of the 20th century as those abroad. But many other average Americans with dangerously naive ideas about themselves and their country grow up to become teachers, foreign correspondents, presidents. What they did not learn as children will not be cured by what they learn at elite universities, in self-regarding metropolitan centers or in graduate schools that for the most part tell them that the United States is the center of the planet and that they are the smartest on it,” she wrote. “This kind of American exceptionalism is a product of 200 years of disconnection from our country’s acts around the world--a geographic, intellectual and emotional isolation.”

The shortcomings of blind American self-belief, Hansen argues, have been brought into stark relief by the ascendance of President Trump. The current occupant of the White House, Hansen wrote in The Post, is “the crudest manifestation of some very American traits: recklessness, nationalism, contempt for history, an inability (if not utter disinclination) to inhabit a foreigner’s experience. Never before has it been so clear that Americans’ identities--their confidence and happiness--are tied to the supposedly exalted status of their nation, and of the man or woman who leads it.”

Of course, this comes at a time when the rest of the world is, more than ever, questioning the American commitment to the ideals and virtues Americans have long professed. “If only America were like Hansen: disquieted, self-analytic and imaginative,” wrote Libyan American author Hisham Matar. The vast majority, though, are not.

Hansen takes as her inspiration the Istanbul years of James Baldwin, the African American man of letters who spent about a decade living in Turkey in the 1960s. As my colleague Kareem Fahim wrote in February, Baldwin’s “overlooked sojourn was a period of prodigious creative production and collaboration with Turkish artists, in a place he came to regard as a sanctuary--despite Turkey’s own political turbulence--from the racism, homophobia and scarring civil rights struggle back home.”

Fahim goes on: “He could no longer work in the United States, he told his friend, the drama critic Zeynep Oral. ‘I can’t breathe,’ she quoted him as saying. ‘I have to look from outside.’”

“One sees it better, from a distance,” Baldwin said about the United States in a voice-over of a 1970 film about his time in Istanbul. “And you can make comparisons. From another place, from another country.” Hansen’s own work renews that call half a century later.

#expats #Suzy Hansen #Notes from a Foreign Country #American exceptionalism

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artificialqueens · 8 years ago

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¡Escándalo! - {Farrah x Valentina} C*NT

Hi guys! It’s been awhile, this is my first time writing a pair other then Biadore 😁 I don’t know why, but I really ship these two season 9 beauties. Flashbacks in italic. 2k+ of drabble, a teeny miniscule amount of smut (if you can even call it that), and TW for spanking! Enjoy!. Btw, I use Valentina’s boy name James in the begining, just to clarify that I’m not referring to Jaymes Mansfield or anything like that. Not sure if I will write another part to this, let me know if you guys are into it.

James laid face down on his hotel bed, frustrated. He had been having a hard time ever since he first arrived, most likely due to the high intensity of the challenges and runways. He needed something to take his mind off of the stress, but the only thing he could think of was to look through his fashion magazines he had brought with his to the hotel.

After about 5 minutes of looking through the same pictures over and over again, he decided that wasn’t what he had wanted to do after all. He sighed and got up to wash his face with some real soap, instead of the flimsy makeup wipes he had used in the workroom.

Patting his skin dry, he thought back to that little blonde queen that had intrigued his from the moment she stepped into the workroom.

A young blonde queen peeked her head out before entering the brightly lit work room. She smiled for the camera, letting it swallow each and every angle the lean queen had to offer. Her dress was a short number, glittering silver crystals reflecting the light off of each stone beautifully. Her cheekbones were high and swept with a blinding white highlighter, making her skin look dewy and supple. Once she was done posing she approached the other queens very shyly, despite her dazzling appearance and glamourous dress. Valentina later learned her name was Farrah Moan from Las Vegas, and wondered why she had never traveled to Sin City as she approached her, hand outstretched.

“If you’re from Las Vegas, I can only imagine how the other queens there look.” Valentina gushed shaking her hand. “I’ll have to come visit.”

Farrah let out a bubbly laugh, making Valentina’s heart swell unexpectedly.

“I wouldn’t mind girl, I’ll show you around!” Farrah winked as she introduced herself to the other queens.

Season 9 had started out with a bang. The girls had met Lady Gaga, as soon as everyone had entered the room. Meeting Lady Gaga was one of Valentina’s dreams, and that had been accomplished within an hour of entering the workroom.

From there, the competition picked up and Valentina noticed Farrah was very whiney, pouty, and often needed Eureka’s help. She would give anything to bend her over and shut her up once and for all. A good smack would help level that queens head, or so Valentina believed. Despite that minor drawback, Farrah was still amazing eye candy for her to look at day in and day out.

Little did Valentina know, Farrah had been just as intrigued with her. When Valentina had won the second challenge in a wedding dress, Farrah knew she was a queen worth watching. Especially after she was underestimated by everyone for only doing drag professionally for 10 months.

Farrah was captivated with how classy Valentina had behaved, even when Aja went on a jealous rant in Untucked an episode later. She could have easily shot an angry string of insults back at her, but instead chose not to say anything. Farrah was impressed with her level of self control, and wished she could be more like her instead of always wearing her emotions on her sleeve.

The next day, the queens entered the workroom and awaited their next challenge. Valentina had awakened refreshed and rejuvenated, ready for whatever the competition had in store. She decided she was going to channel her inner frustration into the next challenge and try to forget about her stress. For some reason today had felt different though, when Ru had walked in and they did their first mini challenge of the series they realized today was going to be a long day.

Shortly after they finished, Ru announced that their main challenge would be Kardashian the Musical. It was the perfect challenge for Farrah to conquer, while Valentina had never even watched an episode. Farrah had basically grown up watching America’s controversial fashion forward family, so she knew she had this challenge in the bag. Teams were picked rather quickly, she was given the part of Kylie Jenner which was perfect for her: she had a small frame and a similar face shape.

Valentina had been cast as Kendall, which meant the two of them would be working together a lot in this challenge. Farrah didn’t know very much about Valentina, other then she had been doing drag for 10 months and that she was a force to be reckoned with despite that minor detail. Valentina had prooven herself when she won the second challenge, and she had Aja fuming over her in the last Untucked. Farrah was nervous, and she couldn’t deny that she felt a little insecure about Valentina outshining her.

The two of them sat together awkwardly at first as they listened to their part of the song. Both of them were secretly fascinated with one another, but neither one of them knew how to break the ice.

“Why don’t they have Tyga in this?” Farrah asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Who?” Valentina asked, looking up at Farrah confused.

“Tyga! He’s Blac Chyna’s baby daddy. He got Blac Chyna pregnant, and then cheated on her with Kylie Jenner; and now Blac Chyna is getting married to Rob Kardashian.” Farrah said matter of factly.

Valentina was even more intrested by the bubbly blonde, but never watched a single episode of Keeping up With the Kardashians so she didn’t really know what to say.

“Escandaló!” Valentina exclaimed finally, realizing she hadn’t commented on what Farrah had said. Farrah laughed, and Valentina felt her lips curl up; even though Farrah had been really whiny lately she sure had a cute laugh that was endearing. Valentina couldn’t help herself around her.

The two of them then had a conversation about the rest of the Kardashians before they went back to memorizing their lines, and soon they were called out to the main stage to rehearse their parts.

After going through a complicated choreographed set, Farrah was feeling discouraged about her performance. Todrick didn’t seem too impressed with her, and Farrah wasn’t feeling confident in their ability to deliver.

“Valentina, we have to do good.” Farrah whined as they walked back to the work room.

“Well let’s get practicing then mija!” Valentina exclaimed, annoyed. She wasn’t about to coddle her ego, there were plenty of other queens in the work room to do that.

They practiced for as long as they could, even on the shuttle ride home. Farrah noticed that Valentina had let her hands idle a little bit as they practiced. She was enjoying the physical contact, and was no stranger to trade but Valentina seemed too classy to want to join her in her hotel room. Soon, they had got their choreo down well enough for Farrah to be confident and thankfully, right as they pulled up to their hotel.

“Gosh, y'all have been practicing all day - get a room.” Trinity teased.

Valentina blushed and shook her head as she quickly said goodnight to everyone. Get a room?She wouldn’t be opposed to sharing a room with someone as gorgeous as Farrah Moan, even if it meant hearing her whine and cry.

Farrah was watching Valentina as she followed her down the hall to their rooms. There was something so sexy about the way she walked, even out of drag her hips swayed back and forth like a woman’s. It was mesmerizing, and Farrah shook her head as she realized she had been staring far too long. She slid her card into her door and as soon as she laid down on the bed, sleep overtook her.

—-

The next day had come and gone. Coming back from the main challenge was leaving Farrah feeling down. She had messed up really bad with their choreography, and she felt like she didn’t really stand out much which was heartbreaking to her.

“Are you okay?” Valentina asked concerned, as Farrah was putting on her outfit for the runway.

“I don’t know. I think I did shitty and it sucks.” Farrah sniffed.

“At least you could move during the performance girl. I’m probably lip syncing.” Eureka said sadly, looking down at her knee as she gripped onto her crutch.

“You don’t know what the judges thought of your performance yet. Think positive thoughts, don’t get yourself worked up for nothing.” Valentina flashed a smile as she squeezed Farrah’s shoulders encouragingly.

Farrah smiled at her in the mirror, enjoying the physical contact and leaning into her ever so slightly. Valentina was beautiful, she had a mysterious timeless vibe that Farrah couldn’t help but be addicted to. She would do anything for a few moments alone with her, and wondered if there was anyway they could make that happen.

—

After the runway, and after listening to the terrible critiques she had gotten, Farrah realized that she was most likely lip syncing for her life. She grabbed a cocktail as soon as she walked into the room, joining the rest of the queens. She stayed quiet as they talked, but after awhile someone asked her if she was okay.

“I’m probably lip syncing, they hated my performance; and for the first time in my life someone told me I was wearing too much highlighter!” Farrah cried, smiling as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. The girls laughed and they all tried to comfort her as she put an earbud in. After Alexis was done speaking, she went over to the corner to practice her lipsync where she was then joined by none other then Valentina.

“Hey doll.” Farrah smiled weakly as she listened to the song, fixing her makeup.

“It’s going to be okay.” Valentina comforted. “You’re too talented to go right now.”

“Thanks Valentina, but I really do think it’s my time.” Farrah smiled weakly before she let out a sob, wiping a tear away from the corner of her eye again.

Valentina looked sadly at the red headed queen. She was a mess, but a damn beautiful one. One that she would like to help clean up. She stared intensely at her in the mirror as Farrah wiped the tears from both eyes.

“Okay, I’m going to be that one bitch. Stop crying.” Valentina said fiercely, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her into her. Farrah gasped at the sudden roughness, albeit a bit turned on by it.

“Focus!” Valentina pointed into the mirror, as Farrah looked up to the ceiling to stop the tears from trickling down her face. She took a deep breath and nodded, continuing to watch Valentina in the mirror.

Valentina paused and gulped, realizing she really didn’t want to see the younger queen go. She was going to do everything she could to fire her up, because the thought of Farrah leaving now was terrifying her.

“Whatever it takes. Get your motherfucking ipod and learn those lyrics. Show the world who Farrah is.” Valentina encouraged, shaking her gently.

“Drink that cocktail for inspiration while you’re at it.” She added. Farrah laughed and Valentina smiled in relief, delighted she had finally cheered her up.

“I’m gonna give you a kiss and let you get back to it.” Valentina pressed her lips to Farrah’s cheek, which was surprisingly soft despite how much makeup was on it. She let her lips linger for a few extra seconds, and let her hand brush against Farrah’s as she began to walk away.

“Wait.” Farrah grabbed her hand, eyes smoldering into hers seriously. “I’ve suddenly been inspired. Come to the bathroom with me.” Farrah whispered in her ear, winking at her.

Valentina raised an eyebrow but eventually agreed, following the queen out of the Untucked lounge and into the hallway. The two queens walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

Farrah walked up and down the length of the room, looking underneath the two small stalls to make sure that there was no one else in there. She nodded to herself absently and smiled.

Valentina could sense where this was going, so she turned around and locked the door firmly as Farrah’s heels clicked against the tile. She strode closer towards her, dangerously close, in fact. She could smell the scented lotion and perfume Farrah had slathered all over her body before they had walked the runway. It was intoxicating.

“Now, what can I do to help inspire you?” Valentina asked sweetly, enchanted by her beauty, and her sweet scent.

Farrah giggled and threw her deep red hair over her shoulder as she pulled down her tights.

“I need you to give me the best blowjob of my life.” Farrah purred, as she began to untuck.

Once she was finished, she stood there in the middle of the bathroom with her pants down, blurring all signs of gender, but still just as beautiful.

Valentina approached cautiously, like a lion stalking her prey. When she reached Farrah, she gently brushed her red hair aside and pressed her lips softly to her collarbone, trailing up to her ear.

“The judges tell me I’m beautiful, but I disagree. It’s definitely you.” Valentina murmured. She pecked her cheek softly, slowly making her way to her soft plump lips. She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, sucking on it softly as she pulled Farrah into a tight embrace.

“I’ve been checking you out this whole competition, you’re just so intimidating.” Farrah gasped in between kisses.

Valentina growled with pleasure and slapped her ass, making Farrah yelp.

“Good, you should be intimidated by me.” Valentina murmured, sliding her hand down Farrah’s lean torso to her cock. Farrah jumped startled, and let out a moan. Valentina pressed a finger to her lips silencing her.

“No more whining. I can’t stand it any longer, and if I hear it one more time you’ll get another smack on the ass, understood?”

“Yes Tina.” Farrah whimpered, lips trembling.

Valentina bent down slowly but gracefully in her heels, positioning herself so that Farrah’s dick was centered to her face. She gripped on and was pleasantly surprised with the wide girth. She hadn’t gotten a very good look at it until now anyway. She smiled as she let her nails skid up and down the length as Farrah gasped with satisfaction.

“Ay dios mio mija, I haven’t even gotten started yet.” Valentina groaned annoyed.

“I can’t help myself, you’re just so sexy!” Farrah exclaimed. She was letting herself get lost in the moment, who knew when the next time she would get any action would be.

“Shh!” Valentina smacked Farrah’s small but plump ass, silencing her for the final time. She started by pushing the tip into her mouth, letting her tongue get used to all of the curves and edges. She still had a firm grip on Farrah’s ass, in case she tried to start whining or whimpering again.

Valentina began to bob her head up and down along her length, feeling the width go in and out of her throat with ease. In this moment, she was thankful she didn’t have a gag reflex.

Farrah began to thrust herself into her mouth, breathing heavily as she filled Valentina more and more. Valentina really knew what she was doing, which was a huge turn on for her; especially since she usually attracted men who had no idea how to pleasure her. Valentina dug her nails into her cheek as she thrusted inside of her, and was so worked up she was ready to explode.

“Tina, can I come?” Farrah pleaded. She usually wasn’t one to be done so quickly, but she was so turned on by her expertise she just couldn’t help herself.

“Sí mi amor.” Valentina said huskily, clearly turned on as well. Her cock was starting to throb against her tight tuck, and was worried it would all come undone just as Farrah let herself come into her throat. Farrah arched her back, letting out the quietest moan Valentina had ever heard in her life as she pulled away slowly. Ultimately, Farrah ended up losing her balance and fell backwards hitting the hard bathroom tile.

Even collapsed on the dirty bathroom floor, completely undone from the waist down, Farrah Moan was the most beautiful creature Valentina had ever laid eyes on.

“Are you okay?” Valentina asked concerned.

“I’m fine, j-just give me a minute.” Farrah said, out of breath.

Valentina smirked at how well she had done putting the younger queen in her place. It didn’t take long for Farrah to jump up and begin re-tucking again. She sighed heavily as she did it, which concerned her.

“Was that not good enough?” Valentina asked annoyed.

“No no, that was amazing Tina! That was like the best bj I’ve ever had. I’m like relieved.” Farrah laughed as she pulled on her tights. “Thank you.”

Valentina grabbed a paper towel from the machine, walking over to the mirror to clean herself up but Farrah stopped her. She smiled at her sweetly, taking the paper towel.

“Here, it’s the least I can do.” Farrah said, gently cleaning the fluid off from Tina’s mouth and neck. When she was done, she pecked her on the lips softly; but was surprised when Valentina pulled her closer and dipped her as they kissed passionately.

When she lifted her back up, Valentina readjusted Farrah’s beautiful red wig that had gotten messed up during their embrace.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Farrah asked.

“You’re beautiful and beautiful things need the utmost care.” Valentina shrugged. She readjusted her fur coat and unlocked the door.

“Remember, the judges like vulnerability. Show them that tonight in your performance. Not the whiney bullshit you’ve been giving the camera’s.”

She looked back at a confused looking Farrah, and winked before she exited the bathroom.

How Valentina could go from sweet to savage with the utmost class was beyond comprehension for Farrah. All she knew was that there was something about Valentina that she just could not hate, even after all of the cut throat advice.

Farrah finished cleaning herself up, idling for a few minutes, and re-entered the Untucked lounge as if nothing had happened.

#¡Escándalo!#farrah x valentina #c*nt #farrah moan #valentina #smut #rpdr fanfiction #submission #canon compliant #escandalo #s9 #on set fic #rare pair

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thefunksoldiers-blog · 8 years ago

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The Lies He Told: Dave Buchansky’s Multitude of Deception and the REAL Reason Mayte Garcia Was Barred from the 2017 Anniversary Celebration

It was something discussed among Prince fans leading up to the 2017 Celebration that marked the one year anniversary of his passing: would Prince's first ex-wife, Mayte Garcia, show up? Would she answer questions about “that book”? And, would she be welcomed by Prince’s family and his other proteges and collaborators?

Two weeks prior to Celebration 2017, Garcia released a tell-all about her marriage to Prince that many saw as a money-making endeavor since she announced the release less than 4 months after his death. Prior to the release of the book, Mayte consented to a series of cover stories for People magazine, most with inflammatory headlines crafted to exploit all the salacious content and scandals possible. Garcia, who actively and proudly promoted these People posts on her Twitter account, would later send her friend to different social media sites to say the magazine, that is part of Time-Warner Books and owned/operated by Hachette Books---Mayte's publisher, blindsided her. This was only after potential buyers expressed discontent that Prince was being labeled a “pedophile,” and “abuser.” A call placed to the magazine's PR department confirmed for us that Garcia was wholly aware of the different articles and the bylines disseminated publicly, and that she never expressed dissatisfaction at any time. Social media was mostly aghast and the Prince fan community was divided into two camps: pro-Mayte and anti-Book. These events are what fed speculation as to whether she would be in Minneapolis on April 21, 2017.

The truth is known in Minneapolis, according to a source close to the music scene “here, we've always known the truth about Mayte.” However, the public does not. According to that friend of Mayte's---Dave Buchansky, who rock journalist Lonn Friend described as Mayte's professional “tagalong”*, she wasn't going to the Celebration because of threats issued that compromised her safety. Dave issued a statement shared across social media that said death threats to Mayte and her daughter would not allow her to travel there and that the local law enforcement was being kept abreast of the situation. He issued a similar statement in October 2016 after someone in an audience at an after party following the tribute show threw a bottle of water at her. The claim in April was not only untrue, but many who were instrumental in working the Celebration were unaware of any threats.

This isn’t the first time Dave has fabricated contact with law enforcement in a pathetic attempt to overstate his importance in the world. He has, in the past, said that he’s reported people to the FBI, to the police, etc., and fictional tales of swat teams with guns seizing upon the homes of people who do not speak with blind adoration for Mayte. Dave watches way too many episodes of “Law & Order.” Law enforcement does not work that way, it is very procedural. Dave does not have that kind of power. People in the industry do not know who he is unless you say “Prince’s ex-wife’s best friend,” and even then, you get the Mariah Carey, “I don’t know her” response. Essentially, he is duping Mayte’s supporters and stirring them up into a frenzy based on nothing more than his say so. But such is the case with truly emasculated men.

All it takes is a phone call to these agencies to learn that recently, Dave nor Mayte has filed any such complaint. Reports are always filed in the state where the victim resides (in Mayte’s case, CA), not where the suspect resides (like Arizona where he claims to have reported someone in October 2016). What one may find is there is are reports on file bearing his name as the offender throughout the country because of his history of harassing people, particularly women, on Mayte’s behalf. There is proof they exist, along with case numbers and the names of officers and detectives assigned to each case.

If the charges Dave has leveled against people weren't so serious, it would be laughable because “threats on Mayte’s life” is the excuse he continues to use to justify the fact that people who were close to Prince don't like Mayte, not out of jealousy, but because she's not a good person; it's all show. Many on the inside did like her at one time and tried to include her, but her true self revealed a woman with a nasty attitude who allowed Dave to control her and her surroundings using the force of his body weight and not much else. Some have observed that Dave has little respect for Mayte’s intelligence because if he did think she was a smart woman, he would have followed through in making sure the business affairs she left in his domain were complete and followed the letter of the law starting with the charity’s business in Florida.

Dave did not even file the annual report and $400 fee to the state of Florida to keep her charity in good standing there. He acquired charitable status in FL for Mayte’s Rescue on December 23, 2014. Florida’s Attorney General dissolved the charity on September 25, 2015 due to this administrative oversight the Vice President of the charity (Dave) should have stayed on top of. Surely, he will blame this on Anamaria Mendez, who is listed as an “agent”. It is uncertain as to whether Mendez would defend any blame placed upon her or what her relationship is to Mayte and is she is in good standing with her. Regardless of who he blames, the IRS invalidates the 501(c)3 status of any nonprofit not in good standing in any state. So, even though Mayte posted two postcards of filings (and, yes, Mayte, you DO have to file a postcard under $50,000, they just don’t ask for the exact income amount), not being in good standing in Florida could invalidate her federal IRS tax-exempt status upon report, which would make it nearly impossible to register in CA until she cleared all of it up. If she self-reports this discrepancy, she may just have to pay fines and the matter will go away upon registration in CA with DOJ (see CA DOJ FAQs). If it is reported by others, she may not get it back without a long and expensive battle. If past behavior is a predictor of future behavior, Mayte, Dave and the rest of her “Get-A-Long Gang” will blame others and point fingers just as they have attempted to do with regards to the Celebration.

The real deal is that Mayte called up Kirk Johnson, whom she affectionately refers to as “Kirky J,” and asked him if she could set up a table to sell and sign her book to Prince fans at the Celebration. “Kirky J” basically told her, in more colorful language, “hell to the no, to the no, no, no!” Whatever you may want to think about “Kirky J,” he was right in denying her that request. Mayte wanted to turn the Celebration of Prince's life and music into her own purple paisley party to celebrate the release of her version of reality that doesn’t jive with the version she and Prince shared over the last 20 years. Furthermore, it really wasn’t the place to peddle her goods. Yes, for the 89 millionth time, we know she was briefly married to Prince (although his marriage to Mani lasted longer; even his friendship with Denise lasted longer than his first marriage), and we know she gave birth to his only child that we are aware of. It does not bear repeating if she’s so confident about her place in the larger story of his life.

Sure some people don’t like Mayte or how she took the opportunity of Prince’s death to profit, but death threats? Perhaps there were, but like with the charity whose CA DOJ registration letter we still have yet to see (IRS 990 postcard is no substitution), we haven’t seen evidence of these threats, nor have we seen proof of the police reports Dave purports were filed. In fact, Dave has spent the last two days slandering various individuals, saying he has screenshots and proof. Again, laughable, but serious.

If he has them, then show them!

Mayte fans should, especially, want him to post them if they are going to the wall to support her and even defame those they have been led to believe have victimized Mayte. It is not that hard. Someone who is lying feels they MUST continuously justify the lie, that’s clear sign that the truth is nowhere in sight. The only person out there running their mouth is Dave. Forget all the double talk, back talk and over talking, Dave needs to stop talking! He’s been talking for years**. Show us the goods or go away! He needs to prove all of his accusations are true otherwise he is guilty of the same libel and defamation he says he is a victim of. All the charges about Dave can be proven. Dave has, on a popular Prince fan site, called him abusive, said he knew “for a fact” Prince broke the arm/hand of a former protege from the 80’s he claims to have spoken to (though she never met him or confided in him), said Prince was a drug addict, a drunk, and like Dave himself, a regular ecstacy abuser “for a fact” up through 1996. All of this has been on prince.org for more than a decade under the username “meltedman”. Dave has even gone so far as to say he and “his boys” scared Prince out of a club because Prince showed up without a bodyguard and argued with Mayte. Really?! Have you ever seen Prince in photos travel without a bodyguard? Follow Dave’s insane logic for a minute: a 5’2” 120 lb. man who couldn’t even go to the mall without being chased was going to a club, at night, by himself and was going to go up against someone as big as Dave? In what realm of “alternative facts” is Dave living in?!

Dave uses lies and excuses to justify the childish and immature behaviors of a grown woman who refuses to take responsibility for her own life and own affairs apart from Dave. If Dave wasn’t spending all his time obsessing over the goings on in Mayte’s life imagine what he could accomplish for himself in his own life: a career, a marriage, a family and children of his own. But instead, he runs behind a middle-aged woman too engulfed in her fantasies to handle her own affairs and wastes endless hours, days and years putting out fires he starts (like not registering with CA DOJ, leaking her book) under the guise of being her representative and keeping Mayte helplessly dependent on him for everything---all of this is due to the lies he’s told. For Dave or even Mayte to say she wasn’t invited to the Celebration would be a total embarrassment for them both because it would call into question the validity of her book (see our previous posts that fact check the book’s content) and all she’s ever wanted us to believe (including the foolish notion that Prince was strung out over her until the day he died) is proven to be a figment of her distorted reality; a reality, that if abandoned, may also mean that she abandons her friendship with Dave. And that is something that he just can’t have.

Show the proof, Dave, or it didn’t happen!

* An excerpt from Lonn Friend’s book, Sweet Demotion

** Among Dave’s lies: he's a lawyer (attended several, but never graduated from college let alone law school), that he worked for Prince at Paisley (Prince didn't want him near his business and didn’t like him).

#mayte garcia #Dave Buchansky #Celebration2017 #Kirk Johnson #KirkyJ #Prince #Paisley Park

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