#it's totally normal to compare a man you just met to a woman several times over
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Piggybacking off of this - even before having genderfeels, I was always a little uncomfortable with womanhood because, well... so much of white womanhood, the "shared experiences" we were all supposed to bond over, revolved around fear. Specifically, fear of men.
Of men in general, yes, but especially of scary, "different" men. Men with dark skin, men with accents, men of "foreign" religions. Poor or homeless men. Dirty men. Smelly men. Mentally ill men, or men on drugs. Strangers in parking lots. Everyone walks to their car with their keys poking out through their fist, they'd say. (I never did.) Everyone feels uncomfortable when the only two people in an elevator are you and a strange man, they'd tell us. (I never was.) Was I just bad at being a woman?
In 41 years of life, I have felt genuinely unsafe because of a man a grand total of 5 times. First of all, that's a pretty good ratio of threats to years on this earth. Second of all, it's not that much higher than the times I've felt unsafe because of a woman, so, just throwing that out there.
Of those 5? All were white. 2 were frat boys at a fairly prestigious college. (One, in retrospect, meant no real harm; he was just so high he had no clue what was even going on, bless his heart. The other, however, was a drunk asshole looking to impress his drunk buddies by humiliating a random "girl" for lolz.) One was a clean-cut young military boy. One was a sad-eyed, non-threatening member of my social group, at an event that required at least a couple hundred dollars of disposable income to attend. The last was a bright-eyed and eager Christian lad who didn't understand that not taking no for an answer is just as creepy when it comes to proselytizing as when it comes to sex.
My point is, none of them were "scary, strange" men. They were clean-cut and attractive. Most of them were, if not well-off, at least comfortably solvent. Yet they were the ones who pushed my boundaries, invaded my personal space, touched me without permission, lied to and manipulated me, and didn't take no for an answer.
And this isn't to say "well, that proves you can't trust ANY man." No! Because again, those 5 guys are a drop in the bucket compared to the MANY, MANY wonderful, respectful, trustworthy guys I've known in my time, but also and more to the point, I've had plenty of opportunities to be around "scary, strange men." I've walked home alone through the "bad part of town" and met the other people out on those streets at night, I've been stranded and dependent on the kindness of strangers, I've talked to homeless guys and I've been approached in parking lots by guys so strung out on who knows what drugs* that they could barely form a coherent sentence, and I've tried to calm down mentally ill* guys having a meltdown in public, and you know what? None of those guys ever gave me a hard time or seemed interested in hurting me or being inappropriate towards me.
(*I am only guessing what was going on with those dudes; I am not a doctor and there's several possible explanations for their behavior!)
And I'm not saying my experiences are universal, gods no. I'm just saying that you can't predict who might try to harm you, and that thinking that any given man, and especially a marginalized man, is somehow more of a risk than anyone else is... kinda dumb. Because the things (white) women tend to be taught to look out for don't actually map onto where threats are likely to come from.
And maybe I'm also saying that MOST people on this earth, of any gender or race or socioeconomic status or anything else, are more likely to help a stranger than harm them. And that it's unhealthy and unproductive to live your life in fear of half of the population, and to teach other women that it's normal to do so. That it's bad for you and also bad for the people you're fearing. And maybe I'm saying that solidarity and sisterhood shouldn't revolve around "here are the people we all hate and fear," ESPECIALLY when a good chunk of those people are marginalized and vulnerable.
And maybe this isn't even my lane anymore, as I don't consider myself a woman. But I was raised a girl and socialized as a woman, and I grew up being taught (not by my parents but by society as a whole) to fear men, and especially certain types of men, and so yeah, I do think I'm allowed to point out that that was bullshit and that we shouldn't be teaching girls that.
(And maybe, just maybe, I'm seeing this resurgence of radical feminism and its whole shtick of "all men are the enemy! masculinity is evil and penises are poison!" and my stomach is just. Churning.)
#i talked a lot about mental health and socioeconomic class but make no mistake#this is also about race#no one in my childhood was crass enough to SAY 'beware of black and brown men'#(and it's harder to refute when nobody says it)#but the message was there#in the way the news was presented and in how media chose to show 'stranger danger'#it was bullshit then and it's bullshit now
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May I request a Childe X Reader fanfic where the reader has been pushing herself too hard lately and so Childe has to forcefully get her to rest? ty
By my side [Childe x Reader]//Genshin Impact
Synopsis: You were an artist and he was an adventurer. Two people from vast backgrounds and Childe just wants to spend some time of his busy life with you. However, things didn't really go his way...at first.
(Childe x F!reader. Its all fluff)
(A/n): Perfect request anon. I too, would like to have a Childe in my life. Been getting 5-6 hours of sleep on average 😃😁. Yeah kind tossed some extra ideas with artist s/o, its a perfect reason for anyone to be busy.
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Once recieving the permission to take a week off from his diplomatic duties, the first thing Childe thought of was none other than his lovely significant other.
The harbinger knew quite well what lays ahead of his ventures to Liyue. During his quest for the archon's gnosis, he encountered many interesting events, such as meeting the rumoured traveller hailing from afar and a broke yet courteous man who turned out to be the ultimate ruler of this very country he walks upon then there was the battle against a dead god until he revived it using the sigil of permission. All of them were great additions to his story as Ajax the hero, something he always wanted to pursue since childhood. In which, also gave him something nice to write about when preparing letters for his siblings living back home. But little did the harbinger know that he'll one day bump into the heroine. A little too soon. Through your little art shop, he met you, a sweet and audacious woman with plenty of humour. That was how it all began.
While he strides down the streets between Liyue's exquisite buildings, Childe suddenly stops in his tracks and looks up to the sky. There, was painted a scenery of an evening dusk, sun rays relfected across until red and orange hues cast a river stream that led to the ends of the world. He watched the birds follow that streak like it was a path made for them to fly towards. A new adventure. You would have loved to captured this in your pictures.
And then he wonders, what might you be painting right now?
"Hey babe, I'm home~"
In a sing-song voice he calls out to you by your nick-name. You knew that Childe was an active member of the Fatui and that his time was limited, hence he made sure to write to you as well. Of course long distant relationships only makes the waiting more anticipated. When he does pay a visit, you'd run straight into his open arms, leaping off your feet to engulf him in one enourmous embrace. Then his hands will hold against your waist as he spins your round and around in the air, stealing the laughter out of your lungs before planting you back on the floor. Sometimes Childe would consider that being far away wasn't be such a bad idea as long as he was able to experience this, the harder the battle, the sweeter the victory. However...
"That's great."
He was met by a response similar to the wintry grace of Snezhnaya.
Huh?
All the fantasies he had from earlier shatters in the background as he stands there frozen. You didn't even spare a glance to the entrance, eyes still glued to the large canvas displayed at your front, too busy to even care. Childe clicks his tongue between the awkward silence with an uncertain expression. When there was no signs of initiation on your part, he shuffled his way to where you were and observes from behind.
"Well you're particularly quiet today," he muses to himself, placing a hand over his hip, "I guess that painting of yours must be really important then."
It was obvious that he was trying to nudge you into his favour. Something that you've found endearing was how quickly your boyfriend can be when he's in a needy state. So you quickly twisted over to peck him on the cheek before going back to work.
"That's better," Childe satisfiedly grins, "So who is this project for?"
"It's a commission requested by a wealthy family serving the Qixing. They're really influential in terms of the market and can really give me a competitive edge. I have to get it done in five days."
His tone flactuates as he squints his eyes, "Five days you say," he disliked the news of your schedule taking over his own, Childe only managed to take a week off and after that, he'll be away for quite some time, "Why don't you take a break? From the looks of your progress, it seems to me that you've been working on it for hours. I've got plenty of interesting stories to tell and you know, nothing can compare to sharing a warm meal within your company," he leans down to your ear level, "How does that sound?"
Several seconds went by as he waits for some sort of reaction, "Oh. Right," you blurted out and the harbinger only smiles, "I made some food earlier this morning. You can go help yourself if you're hungry."
Today was not his day.
Childe pulls out the wooden chair and slumps into the seat, a defeated huff escaping his mouth as he stared at the crystal shrimp placed on the table. It was hastily wrapped by plastic, most likely cold for a while, just like the romantic evening he had planned in his head. Normally you'll be sitting on the otherside while listening to the many tales he went through along the way. Although painting was your passion, it was undeniable that you also enjoyed his kind of lifestyle if you ever had the choice. He was rather surprised on how someone ambitious like him would end up with such a simplistic person but quickly accepted it as life was meant to be unpredictable, just the way he likes it. As Childe entertains you with his stories, he'll listen to your giggles amidst eating the homecooked meals that you both prepared together.
"I wonder if she ate already," he mumbled to his lone self. You most likely did but Childe knows you well. Artists are obsessed and they can go as far as to neglecting their own health for the sake of their masterpieces. Hence, he made sure to remind you to eat properly through the letters he wrote to you.
The harbinger takes a quick glance around the kitchen. It was a mess. The cupboards were slightly opened, metal pots were still displayed on the stone stove and the stench coming from the sink....
Childe pushes himsel up to see what was the cause.
Not even the dishes were washed.
Running his fingers through his bangs, he sighs wearily, "Old habits die hard huh?" And above all else, when artists are obsessed they also forget how disorganized they can become. Childe begins to roll up his sleeves before taking off his gloves. At times like this he'll have to pitch in and take care of it for you, "Looks like I'll be here for a while."
Throughout three sunsets and three moonrises, Childe had no option but to observe you from afar, minus the few attempts he made to regain your attention again. How you would go to bed much later than him, waking up before he opens his eyes and the effort he put into making your food only left with too many leftovers. It wasn't that you were unappreciative, instead, your mind had become too focused that your body was considered a second priority. Like anyone else, Childe genuinely thought you possessed great talent and supports you wholeheartedly. He loved it when you painted pictures just for him as if they were scenes coming out of his hero story, reminded by his adventures, capturing every detail. However he also needed to learn how to deal with this stubborn side of yours.
"Hey babe, I just finished preparing our dinner. Don't you smell that? Such a rich aroma, you should go eat."
"I'm busy."
Your diet were just small bites, the rest being substituted by coffee. Childe could clearly tell that you weren't getting enough sleep either as there were dark circles forming underneath your eyes and slowly, he was starting to become a little irritated.
Three hours passed midnight but you were still awake in the same place doing the same thing. Childe leans against the doorframe with arms folded, already changed into his sleeping clothes. He clears his throat to break the silence, "Ahem."
Your wrist hangs in mid air by the sound of a strange visitor, it was your boyfriend. Gaze in a daze, you lazily turned your head, "What time is it?"
"Way passed the sleeping hours as you can see," he points with his thumb at the table clock in a half-hearted manner, "You should already be in bed by now and don't think you can coax yourself out of the situation this time," his eyes parted in slits as he added with a smile, "Otherwise I might just have to force you myself."
You shook your head, "Give me one more hour? There's some finishing touches I really want to add so," clasping your hands together, you beamed sweetly, "Pretty please? I'll finish up soon."
"Oh really?" Childe challenges, head tossed back like he was interrogating you instead, "I believe that was also what you told me yesterday. And the day before? Adding up all of those days that would be.....four in total?" He deliberately counts upon his fingers before facing you again, this time his expression was slightly more serious, "As much as I find your determination remarkable, there are moments when you need to consider a sufficient amount of rest and this just isn't going to cut it."
"Four days already?!" You exclaimed, "Jeez, I don't even know if I'm halfway done."
Pressing his lips together, Childe glares in an acutely deadpanned countenance, it was also his time too, "Can't you ask this commissioner to extend your due date to next week? In your case, mora shouldn't be the issue since, well...you're dating me anyways."
It's true. Childe was the main reason why you didn't have to live as a starving artist. He had all your expenses fully covered from the marketing aspect to your residence, you simply chose to work out of pure will.
"I don't want to always rely on you so much," you confessed, "This commissioner could turn my whole career around. If I'm able to gain his favour, maybe I'll get promoted to a court painter for the Qixing! Who knows when there will ever be a chance like this again," pumping your fists, you spoke purposefully, "I'll pull an all nighters if I have to!"
Childe brings his hand to his forehead, you looked as if you were nearly about to collapse and yet still considering the option of an all-nighters? The harbinger should've detained you days prior before.
"Hm? Childe, what's wrong?" He suddenly falls deadly quiet and you watched him walk closer towards you, "What are--"
Hooking an arm behind your knees and the other at your back, your boyfriend lifts you up in one full swoop as he tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Guess we'll have to do things the hard way," he remarks cheerfully.
"W-Wait," you flailed your arms and kicked your legs but to no avail. Childe was an experienced combatant indeed, "Put me down! I have work to do."
Your protests fall upon deaf ears as the harbinger carries you to your room. You were oddly lighter than the last time he carried you, the strength less vigor than before, it was obvious that your body was in need of relaxation. He suddenly thinks there was a possibility that you would maintain this habit while he was absent.
I should probably visit more often.
Using his free leg to nudge the door open, he places you upon the shared bed in a gentle manner. You winced at the impact of the soft sheets, surprised by how much it affect you.
"There we go. All done. Man, you really are a stubborn one, aren't you. Makes me a little worried since I can't spoil you all the time."
He quickly invited himself to the empty space on your bedside and wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you close and feeling you whole. Childe made sure there was no escape once putting his chin above your hairline so that you could feel his warmth as much as possible.
"This is--" you stuttered. His tactic was enough to make your limbs soften and you could almost hear him smirk into the distance, "This is cheating..."
"You think so?" He comments as if pledging innocence, "I don't know babe. Where I come from those who take the initiative are the ones who end up claiming the prize," pulling back, Childe takes the opportunity to observe your pouty face, "I don't make the rules. It's just how it goes."
You wanted to argue back but he suddenly took the bedsheets and covered both of your bodies with, completely trapping you with his presence. He snuggles into you further as if you were a bear made of linen and you felt the drowsiness taking over your mind. The way he gently pats down the back of your head was enough to instantly lull you into a deep sleep.
"Cheater," you mumbled.
He laughs softly, the rumbles emitting through his chest, "I love you too babe."
Even after you've let go of your resistance, Childe continues his actions until he was sure that you were resting. He had been longing to touch you like this since living a chaotic life only made peaceful moments much sweeter, "You're such a hard-worker you know that? I'm proud of you but you have to know when to call it a day," he whispers, "If not, how can I go on trips while knowing that you're still refusing to eat properly?"
You closed your eyes and said nothing in return. All your senses were too cloudy to come up with a reassuring response. Childe listens to the way your breath evens as you intake his scent during the process. It smelled like the soap you used in the showers, lotus leaves mixed with his own unique musk. You could only focus on him. His comforting embrace. His slightly accelerating heartbeat because you were together with him.
Letting out one final yawn, you succumbed to his spell and allowed your energy to drift away.
The corners of his lips tug upwards, "Sleep well princess."
Childe reaches over to your desk drawer and shuts off the alarm clock before turning over to face you again. He couldn't fall asleep immediately, not when he had to consider taking care of the commissioner who gave you an impossible deadline. But that will be saved for another day, for now, he observes in silent serenity.
If he were to quit his job for a year, what would his life be like?
Peaceful. Something opposite of what he was living right now. Something similar to the life he had back home. As you arrange the many paintings in your little home, he'll offer to help you among the places you couldn't reach. Without a doubt, Childe was far taller in comparison. Taking strolls into the streets and trying the new dishes the merchants came up with. Then in the evenings, you'll both go to dinner dates while listening to the storyteller revealing the rumours of the legendary Tianquan Qixing. Although Childe loved the adventurous life he led, he had to admit that your domesticity and family-bringing atmosphere was a tempting idea.
Maybe one day.
He lightly takes a strand that had fallen over your nose and tucked it smoothly behind your ear. The soft snores coming out of your parted lips caused his gaze to melt. And so he steals them with his own, placing a chaste goodnight kiss.
One day I'll be sure to bring my family here with us.
Closing his eyes, he joins you in your slumber, hoping to see all that he envisioned in his dreams.
#genshin impact#childe x reader#childe genshin impact#genshin childe#childe#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia#genshin impact childe#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact scenarios#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin scenarios#genshin headcanons
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We all know how looks can be deceiving right? I’d love to request head cannons of Kuroo, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Konoha, Terushima, and Atsumu with a gf that’s gifted with that super-soaker, wet-wet pussy, a pro at riding that dick, and has the gwak gwak thotty throat slobber 9000 but she is so shy, cute, and innocent at first glance. She looks like the soft-spoken librarian but when they get down and dirty, she puts her body to work and these bois just don’t know how to act from how amazing she is. Let’s say they teased her too much, so she revoked their sex privileges for a few days (not knowing how addicted these guys are on her body). Desperate bois are best bois 😈
:o
i’m shell shocked anon, you’ve blown my mind
Cw: hair pulling, super WAP, kinda fem dom but not really, severe pussy-whipped men
Kuroo
firstly, he thought you were the innocent type up until you sucked him off for the first time
Honestly, he thought you were a total virgin prude
It wasn't really his fault, you two had met as lab partners for an AP chemistry class
You know, a class full of nerds and people he just assumed would get a job and married when they were thirty
Looking back he should have caught on after seeing you unconsciously jerking of a test tube
But, contrary to popular belief, kuroo is not the social cue master
After a few months of dating, you guys were just a horny time-bomb
Ahh~ the first blow-job, one for the books
He should have known it was going to be good just from the way you were unzipping his jeans, was it normal to almost cum just for your girlfriend palming you?
When you did get his dick out and had it all the way down your throat within the minute, he really did think you were a godsend
He didn't even know what you were doing with his balls, but whatever it was it was working
You didn’t gag or cough, even when he grabbed that back of your head and practically face-fucking you
(the real kicker was when you licked your lips after he came and gave him that small fucking smirk, mans was done for and he knew it)
Even with all that, nothing, and I mean nothing compares to the first time you guys went at it
when I say that you guy made out for five minutes when he went under your panties and felt the pacific ocean in your panties
He was about to propose right there (and about to cum in his pants for the thousandth time)
He didn't need to but he still rubbed a few circles around your clit, but apparently, you were ready enough
Considering you grabbed his dick and fully sunk onto him in one motion
Poor baby didn't know what hit him
You had to have done this before, and if he hadn't met you in class he would have been sure you slept around and learned everything in the book
You would clench every time your sims met and- AND THAT THINGS WITH HIS BALLS AGAIN
His mind was bungled, especially after you had both come and you fell onto his chest going back to the shy and sweet version he knew you as.
What the hell was that????
Was he fucking you or were you fucking him?? Because at this point he didn't even care
After that experience, you fucked like bunnies, all the time, even in school more than a few times.
And we all know kuroo can't shut his mouth
And he always teases you about how cute and mouse like you are outside the bedroom and how it's like he’s dating two different girls
....that hit a nerve...
Two different girls??? Well he’ll just have to endure one girl until he realizes what a blessing you are
5 days, 120 hours, 7,200 minutes, and 432,000 seconds, that's how long he lasted
He was going insane, and so he explained that he didn't mean it in a bad way and that he loved how you acted
Forgiving him you rewarded the poor cat boy, 5 rounds for five days
(he didn't want to admit it but he’s pretty sure his dick would have fallen off if you didn't relent when you did)
(he just didn't want to admit that he was pussy-whipped)
Bokuto
You actually had met at a library
One of his teachers wanted him to get a bit of extra tutoring and volunteered you for the job.
You had hit it off great! Personality-wise
(you’ll never tell him but it was frustrating that he clearly didn't understand anything you were telling him)
And you were so sweet and cute, and such a good teacher
He would know that if he wasn't too busy just staring at you and thinking about you and thinking about what you like and what you wear outside of school
(or how good your lips look, or how your thighs look so soft, or that when you get up he can see under your skirt.)
Your guy’s first time was an experience
(bokuto is the cunny easting master, don't call me out)
More cunny juice = more food for owl man
He was excited, somewhere in his mind he knew that it was gonna get better from then on
He wasn't wrong either, although he didn't let your mouth near his dick just yet, he knew that would be good considering the ‘art’ you've created on his neck
The true fuckary started with him on top, but the second he was in you he...froze
Poor baby was shell shocked, you felt better than he had thought, and he just slumped over, you thought he came but he wasn’t ready for it to end so soon
He just sat there for a few minutes, fucked out, before you just decided to flip you both over
That was more his speed at the moment
So he grabbed onto your hips for dear life and you got working
Within two minutes the two of you had created a pool of juices on his bed (bokuto had a lot of precum ok), not that he really cared
You were not competing with anyone but he already had you 2 to 0
(point 1 for the meal and point 2 for being an Olympic dick-rider)
I am also a firm believer that bokuto thrusts up, he just can't help it
You are too addictive, or the way you ground onto him in between every bounce was addictive
I also don't believe that you could even truly deny bokuto sex, he was good at guilt-tripping and he was soooooo adorable
(not to mention the puppy dog eyes he does that could convince good to do his will)
So I’m sure the only way he wouldn't get sex would be no nut November.
(aka the devil's month of torture, actually not month, week give or take)
This year it just happens that he set a new record, 8 days
He went a whole 8 days without trying for sex
Truly he went about 10 days before he stopped begging and just took matters into his own hands
(under enough pressure Bokuto become a hard dom and no one can say otherwise)
The entire time he was telling you how pretty you were and how well your pussy takes him and that you had no ‘right’ to tell him he couldn’t have sex
He even gained a new phrase “this pussy belongs to me”
You were going to have to set some things straight once he was done ;)
Iwaizumi
You were on the student council, it felt sacrilegious to think anything but pure thoughts about anyone on the council
(that didn't really stop him)
honestly, from the moment his crush festered he wanted to ruin your little innocent vibe
You always smiled so sweetly at everyone, and just seemed like a true goody two shoes.
And that point seemed to have been correct when you began to date
Until! The fateful day where his perceived innocent girlfriend pulled a full 180 on him!
Firstly, you had offered, out of the blue, to suck him off in the middle of the movie you were watching.
Second, he asked if you knew how, and you giggled at him with that smile he loved so much
Thirdly, when you did get his dick out, you swirled some of the pre-cum on his tip with your thumb, he started getting a bit suspicious
Lastly, you completely swallowed him down, face pressing on his hip, cheeks hollowed.
That’s when he realized that you did know what you were doing
(that also arouse the thought that you had been with someone else, which was counteracted with the fact that you knew how to suck dick by practicing on hair brushed and popsicles)
((it also helped that you barely had a gag reflex))
Truly trying to put that to the test, dom iwa came right out, grabbing your hair and telling you to suck harder
And you impressed the man, to say the least
After that he had to fuck you, he really just had too
For the first time, he went with a solid missionary, just to test that waters
He didn’t think anyone's pussy should feel like that, but since you were his it was ok
All was well he was lost in the feeling of your pussy and the deciding moment was when you pulled him against you and started to grind your body onto his
You were putting a whole lot of body into it too, and you were so soft, and unless he wanted to cum early something was going to have to change
So he flipped and changed to doggy style, which made thighs worse???
From there you got tighter and he could see all of the wetness drips from your fold onto the sheets
Yup, you were the one for him
(solidified when he pulled your hair and you moaned like a street whore)
As for the no sex thing, that was a ride
It started when Makki asked you if you were always dripping for iwa
And after a week of no sex, he confessed to letting them on his phone and watching a recording of one of your nightly escapades and he was sorry
(and he just wanted to show them what they were missing, y’know brag a bit)
That was, and he says the only time, he let you try to dom him
You truly were the most amazing woman in the world
Konoha
( i made him kind of an ass lol sorry)
You wee the girl who sat next to him in class
(not to be mean, but he thought you were a nerd)
You always had your uniform covering everything and you were always playing with your short sleeves
You raised your hand a lot in class, always had a pencil to borrow
He just assumed that you had cobwebs in your pussy
Proven wrong at one of the volleyball teams parties, you had apparently been dragged there by a friend (surprising)
And you both were dragged onto some weird spin the bottle game
The bottle would spring and someone would draw an action from this jar and the two people would have to do it in a bedroom in the house
Seeing as that’’s how fate goes you and him were chosen
A blow-job card was chosen
And he laughed with a friend about how you wouldn’t know what to do
Mistake, that struck a real nerve, was this guy for real?
Oh hell no
Being the baddie you were, you walked to him, grabbed him by the arm, and locked lips, breaking away after a moment you asked if he was ready to go.
Poor boy didn't even respond, he just nodded and stood up
Two minutes in, he knew what he had done
You were blowing him like it would be your last time, it should be illegal to be able to suck someone off that well
And damn you pulled away right before he was going to cum.
And then just left him! Walked out of the closet like nothing had ever happened
That couldn’t be it, he wouldn't let that be it
After two weeks of non-stop begging from the guy you agreed to a date, which led to many dates
Which led to him finally being able to fuck you
God damn, he didn't think it would get better, and it did, it really did.
You were laying on top of him and grinding your entire body onto him
Dripping all over him and squeezing him like crazy
He was never going to let you go
Now, that same friend from that party seemed very intrigued with your relationship
And he just can't help but tell him about how amazing you were, it just sucks that he did it right in front of you in the middle of lunch
Pussy pass revoked
He didn't think he did anything wrong so he went two whole weeks without any touch and he went crazy
He fell apart and apologized
After he begged enough you gave him the pussy pass back
And now he doesn't do anything to jeopardize it
Terushima
this is gonna sound weird
But
I feel like terushima knows when someone is a good lay
It's like a secret talent of his, he just knows and his radar went off when he saw you
But he thought it was wrong at first considering you were wearing leggings and a huge sweater
Not good fuck material
But he had to make sure, so he just walked up to you and asked if you were a good fuck
Surprisingly you didn’t punch him in the nuts, instead, you laughed at him and said that he would just have to find out
And that he should at least take you out to dinner first
Adm he took you up it, made it the best damn dinner date he’d ever be on
And you reward him
With what?
The best damn blow-job he’d ever get as long as he lived.
And it fit that to the T
It started with the little licks and swirls, then, you gotta catch the man off guard, and just take his entire dick in your throat
And with that, he was sure he had superpowers
When He came, fairly quick for his taste, you swallowed all of his cum and he was ready to marry you
If he needed to take you on a date for that, he would take you on a date every day for the rest of his life
(not every day) but that's what he did
But eventually, just a blowjob wasn't enough, oh no he knew you had a tight hole
And he knew you were gushing most of the time (ushy gushy my pussy-)
If making him suck the fingers you used to fuck yourself after he came was anything
And you tasted good, really good
He was so ready for it that he let you ride him the whole night
He thought his dick was a]going to fall off, you were just that damn good
It was insane, you were almost using him as a dildo, grinding your clit on the base of his cock
And you looked glorious, he was going to have to talk to you about recording it so he could watch it over and over
Maybe show a few people-
And that's what he did, poor unfortunate soul got the silent treatment for two days before he fell apart
He literally got on his knees and asked for forgiveness
(biggest simp on the planet, but only for you (and your dripping cunt))
He’s sure to never do it again, he’s also sure that if you asked him to step on him he would let you
(and I think he’s the most pussy-whipped)
Ok maybe you didn't fully forgive him until he showed you what his tongue piercing could do, but it was worth every moment.
Atsumu
Honestly, he was dared to sleep with the next girl who walked through the cafeteria door
And that just happens to bring you, miss. I remind the teacher there was homework
(Well he actually wasn’t really sure about that but that's what you looked like and he was already regretting his decision.)
In defense of him, your hair was in a messy bun and you had this teacher's pet aura around you
But he would be damned if he lost this bet to his brother and Suna, oh no
The moment he wa[lked up to your table you knew what was happening, and shut it down immediately
After that, you officially had his attention!
Lucky you!
Unlucky you for the fact that all he wanted to do was get in your pants.
But lucky you again because you could hold this over his head!
But one day you just woke up and chose dick (respectable)
So when atsumu did his daily “c'mon baby, you know you want some” you just stood up, scaring him
(he finally thought you were gonna kill him)
Instead, you grabbed him by the dick, literally grabbed his dick through his pants, and tugged him all the way to the roof
“Hey-hey baby, no need to be that rough”
“Shut up, Miya. pants down, now”
That was not where he thought that was going but he isn't going to complain.
“You want your dick wet so bad? Here you go!”
Honestly, he could die happy.
Not so sound gross, but you were slobbering around his cock like a pro. Now that left the thought, you had to have done this before.
You had hands on the back of his thighs pushing him further down your throat, hollowed cheeks, damn he should’ve done this was sooner
He was gonna cum-
And your mouth was gone, your hand was jerking him but that wasn't nearly as nice
“Lay back.”
Yes, yes he will do that. If what’s about to happen is what he thinks is about to happen
And now your pussy was above his face. Ok a little detour but he’ll take it
You were literally dripping onto his face while he got to work, and you went back to sucking him off
Yup, heaven.
After you both came he made sure to tell you that that had to happen again.
And it did, you rode him to hell in the hole to heaven, and he couldn't help himself from telling the entire volleyball team about how good you were
Now he really didn't think about what would happen if the news got back to you
But he definitely didn't think that meant a whole week of nothing
Well nothing for him, you made sure to send him more than a few videos of rigid dildos and fingering yourself
A week of torture, but when it was finally over he had an entirely new folder of spanking material
he was sure about who he told about your escapades, as in he told himself and Osamu if he just wanted to vent
poor guy was paranoid now
#kurro x reader#kuroo smut#kuroo x reader smut#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader smut#bokuto x reader#bokuto smut#bokuto x reader smut#bokuto koutarou x reader smut#bokuto koutarou x reader#iwaizumi x reader#iwazumi x reader#iwaizumi smut#iwaizumi x reader smut#iwaizumi haijime x reader#iwaizumi haijime x reader smut#konoha x reader#konoha smut#konoha x reader smut#atsumu x reader#atsumu smut#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu miya x reader smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader smut#terushima x reader#terushima x reader smut#terushima smut#terushima yuji x reader
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Hate You, Hate You Not - Armitage Hux
Pairing: General Armitage Hux x reader
Requested: By anon.
Prompts: #1 & #58 from the fluff-list.
Warnings/notes: (SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2 WITH MORE ROMANCE IN IT?) This ended up being much longer than I planned so it's most likely very boring and dull😭 Might be a bit, if not a lot, out of character since this is kinda my test-run for Hux and Star Wars in general. Getting the characters mannerisms in might take some practice. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. This is the first time ever that I write for Star Wars and the first time in like 5-6 months that I’m writing in general so I’m a bit rusty. Please reblog and leave comments to keep my motivation going and let me know if you’d like to be added to a Star Wars taglist <3
Wordcount: 5632
Summary: One of Kylo Ren’s many tantrums results in your room being inhabitable for a night, which in turn results in you having to share a room - and bed - with the person you hate the most.
Everyone who had ever, at some point in their lives, worked alongside Kylo Ren in his quest to bring the Order to power, knew how much of a hassle and inconvenience his temper, or lack thereof, could be.
Not much was needed for him to lose his cool and it happened on a much too frequent basis than what was considered normal for a man in his early 30s, at least according to you.
Of course, however, you couldn’t actually tell him that, nor could you think it, with the risk of him probing your mind.
So every time he came back from a failed mission and completely obliterated your hard work, you could do nothing but bite your tongue, clear your head and repair the damages like you’d done oh, so many times before.
That’s what you got for being one of the highest-ranked engineers of the Order, you supposed.
But on this day you would’ve, for the first time in your life, very much preferred to repair the damages left behind by your tantrum-prone leader like you always did. Because if that punishment had to be compared to the one you were now facing, you would’ve chosen the former without even a shadow of a doubt.
But, unfortunately, that was not an option this time around, as the room that had fallen victim to the sizzling beam of Kylo Ren’s lightsaber was your bedroom.
Well, not originally, of course, but sparks had flown from the totaled control panels and a piece of supposedly fireproof metal scrap had caught on fire before you and the other engineers reached the room for a damage-control, starting of as a small flame and then proceeding to spread like wildfire as fire did, in ways completely unbeknownst to you as, like already mentioned, the place was supposed to be safe from fires.
The licking flames had managed to melt through several walls before you got to the scene, and one of those walls was the wall to your bedroom.
It was late when it happened, only fifteen minutes before you were supposed to end your shift, and as you were on the verge of having a mental fucking breakdown, you personally requested an audience with Kylo and were granted permission by him after a very carefully-worded explanation to start early in the morning.
But that only took care of one of your problems, and only temporarily at that. Now you were left with the issue of finding other sleeping accommodations since your room was currently not habitable. You had no choice but to ask for another room and, of course, Hux thought that to be the perfect time to crack a sarcastic joke about throwing you into one of the prisoner cells.
You had never, in all your years of being alive, glared so fiercely at another human being as you did then. And in your moment of anger, you accidentally let your walls down and let your thoughts run freely through your head – your annoyance directed at the General, but also at Kylo Ren, being exposed.
You felt it before you saw it – that little prickle in your head, that little sting of your mind being probed – and only a second later, Kylo Ren turned his masked head in your direction, walked up to you with patronizingly slow steps and spoke:
“I think you’ll find that General Hux’s quarters will suffice for the night, until repairs can be done to your own. He has more than enough space for both of you.”
He turned his head to look at the baffled man standing behind him, all of the attitude he had previously been harboring against you now completely melted away.
“Isn’t that right, General?” Kylo continued asking, giving him the time he needed to regain his composure.
The general in question had never been very good at holding his tongue, not even when receiving orders from superiors, and was quick to protest.
As anyone would’ve been able to guess, that didn’t go very well, and you weren't even gonna try hiding the satisfaction you got from seeing Hux be force-choked against a wall for speaking out of turn.
No matter how good both of you were at hiding your spiteful thoughts toward him, Kylo knew how much the two of you hated him. And more than anything, he knew how much you hated each other.
Kylo had become very predictable to you during the time you had been there and you knew his ways good enough to know that he wouldn’t have wasted petty energy in putting the two most hateful people he knew in the same room if he hadn’t been pushed to do so.
You knew that you weren’t the reason in this scenario, despite the fact that he had probably felt your spite directed towards him, which only left one option; and that option was the bitter, infuriatingly stubborn ginger currently walking by your side.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and glared, clenching and unclenching your fists at your sides in the same manner you had been doing ever since Kylo had ruled his decision final and dismissed you for the night.
His eyes remained trained on the metallic corridor that seemed to be stretched out for miles in front of you and your blood boiled at the sight.
You would’ve lost your shit if he’d had the nerve to even consider looking at you after putting you in this situation, but at the same time, you were also on the verge of losing your shit about him having the audacity to ignore you.
You wanted to scream at him like you’d never screamed at anyone before, but you knew that doing that would only fuel the petty grudge Kylo had against the two of you and give him more ways to cause you torment. The only thing you and the general would ever have in common was not wanting that.
But still, what harm could a tiny bit of friendly banter do?
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Armitage?” The question you’d been sucking on for the past few minutes finally slipped out into the air, making your anger known.
“Don’t call me that.”
“My apologies.” You sarcastically shot back with a dry laugh. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, general?”
“No, it was awfully tempting.” Was all that he replied, his eyes not once flickering and neither his stone-cold scowl nor fast-paced stride faltering.
Well, you might have absolutely despised each other but in the very least, you never bothered lying to each other. That had to count for something, right? Not that either of you cared.
No more words were exchanged, and that was probably for the best. Engineers and stormtroopers all moved out of your way as the two of you marched through the corridors, side by side, knowing better at this point than to get on your bad sides when you were together and this obviously angry both with each other and in general.
Soon enough, you finally reached the corridor in which Hux’s sleeping quarters were located and once the mechanic doors slid open, you pushed yourself past him into the room before he even got the chance to react.
He fumed behind you as he watched you make yourself at home, dropping your dirty jacket on his perfectly made bed.
“You’ll take the floor, then?” You asked as you turned around, crossing your arms over your chest and shooting him a forced smile.
“Hardly.” He spat, eyes narrowing, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes in return.
“You must be a real hit with the ladies with those manners.”
At that, he stepped further into his room, allowing the sensory-triggered door to shut behind him, successfully shutting the two of you in together.
“I don’t have time for fooling around with women.” He spat out the last word with such malice that you automatically raised an eyebrow.
“Well, that explains it.” You mused, the corner of your lip tugging upwards ever so slightly.
“Explains what, exactly?” His eyes narrowed further, and this time it was his turn to cross his arms.
“That stick you have up your ass.” You wasted no time in shooting back, and before he got a chance to reply, you continued. “I know this might be news to you seeing as you’re, well, you, but gentlemen are supposed to sacrifice their comfort and offer themselves to take the floor when a lady, due to unfortunate circumstances, is forced to stay in their room.”
You sarcastically smiled at him and sank down his bed, something that he, judging by the snarl overtaking his face, didn’t appreciate.
“You, a lady? That will be the day.” He scoffed. “Even calling you a woman is a stretch with your mannerisms.”
You could only roll your eyes.
“Well, I’m not sharing a bed with you.” The glare that had temporarily been exchanged for a teasing smirk returned to your face. “I’d rather share a bed with Millicent.”
As you said that, you picked up a single strand of cat hair from his bed, held it up for further inspection and raised your lip in disgust.
He stared at you dead serious, hands clasped behind his back and eyes burning holes into the side of your face.
“You’re allergic to cats.” He pointed out, making your head whip back around to face him with a glare equally as fierce as the one you were met with.
“Yes, that’s my point.” You deadpanned. “But it would seem that said point just went right over your thick-skulled head.”
“Do you think I am any happier about this than you are?” He scowled, and you stood up, slowly approaching him and coming to a stop right in front of him.
He took a small step back, a move that made your lip tug upward ever so slightly. The fact that he was so obviously not as tough as he wanted people to believe gave you a special kind of satisfaction and he knew it, judging by the way he only turned stiffer after that.
“You should be.” You smiled sweetly at him, keeping your eyes connected to his. “Because you’re sure as hell lucky I haven’t choked the life out of you yet for getting us into this situation in the first place.”
He glared and you glared right back, challenging, no, daring him to fight back. You knew that he wanted to, you could see that he wanted to, but in the end, not even he was that stupid.
So he said nothing, and once you realized you had finally managed to successfully back him into a corner, you backed away from him again and plastered on another forced, overly sweet smile.
“Now, I need to take a shower. I reek of burnt plastic.” You stated flatly and pushed past him, making a beeline for the one extra door in the room that you could only assume was his bathroom.
You heard the squeak of his shoes rubbing against the floor as he quickly turned around behind you, and then came the determined steps and the proximity of his body closing in on you. However, before he got the chance to object or reach you, you entered his bathroom and slammed the door shut in his face, smiling contently to yourself as you listened to the muffled string of curses that followed.
You didn’t spend any more time thinking about it, though, not wasting any time before doing what you came in there to do.
You got out of your horrid-smelling clothes, released your equally as nasty-smelling hait from its ponytail and stepped into the shower.
If there was one thing you appreciated a little extra about living at the Starkiller Base, it was that everyone used the same scented soap. Because that meant that you wouldn’t have to go around smelling specifically like Hux, but rather just like you always smelled.
Once you finished washing your hair and body, you had to stop and think for a bit.
Your clothes obviously still reeked and needed a proper wash before they could be worn again, and you obviously couldn’t go naked.
After much thought back and forth, you finally settled with your own leggings as they were the one piece of clothing from your previous attire that smelled the least of smoke, and a plain black, long-sleeved undershirt that you found in a pile of Hux’s clean laundry.
Once you vad gotten dressed, braided your hair and re-entered the bedroom accompanied by a stream of steam, you found it to be empty, Hux nowhere in sight.
You couldn’t deny that you wondered where he’d gone off to, but you shook your head free of his face pretty quickly, settling with believing that he just went to take his frustration out on some poor stormtrooper or low-rank intern like he so often did when things didn’t go his way, much like Kylo Ren beat the shit out of any control panel he could get his hands on.
While you awaited his return, you occupied yourself with going around the room and lighting the small night-lamps like you normally did in your own room before going to bed.
That obviously didn’t take long, however, so you were soon enough once again left alone with your boredom and started walking around the room, inspecting all of Hux’s belongings.
You realized pretty quickly that he was not a person to whom inanimate things had much sentimental value, as he definitely didn’t have much to his name aside from the basic interior that all of the sleeping quarters on the base had.
He had a ring on his drawer, a few books in one of his two bookshelves while the other stood empty, a small bed in a corner for his cat, clothes in his wardrobe, and that was pretty much it. He had no pictures of family, no real personal belongings that could signify any kind of emotional value.
But then again, who did in these parts?
“Is that my shirt?”
You jumped when you heard the sudden voice behind you, quickly turning around where you stood twirling the ring you had found in the light of the lamp standing beside you.
Your eyes found his form immediately, shocked meeting stern.
“Why are you wearing my shirt?” He almost instantly repeated himself when not getting a reply the first time, slowly beginning to walk in your direction with his hands clasped behind his back.
You quickly put the ring back down on the dresser and turned towards him, regaining your composure.
“Well, if you hadn’t noticed, my room and everything in it was burnt to a crisp. The smokey smell on my clothes was giving me a headache and kind of would have ruined the purpose of taking a shower so when I just so conveniently noticed a pile of clean clothes, I helped myself.” You shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, and to you, it wasn’t.
Hux, however, didn’t seem amused in the slightest.
“Yes, you seem to have a habit of thinking you’re entitled to everything you want.” He spat back at you, coming to a stop while there was still a good amount of distance between the two of you.
Any chill you had previously had melted right off and your annoyance quickly returned at the sound of his words.
“Oh, do excuse me. I just thought one headache would be enough.” You retorted and rolled your eyes, before sighing and crossing your arms over your chest. “So, how are we doing this? It’s late and I need to be up early to see to the repairs.”
“I thought that I made myself clear.” Hux was quick to scoff, his glare not faltering for as much as a second. “I’m not giving you my bed.”
Once again, all you could do was roll your eyes. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to suck it up then.” You stated flatly and sat down on the bed, wasting no time in starting to divide the pillows into two piles rather than one.
You took a few seconds to adjust the pillows to suit your needs before looking back up, eyebrow raised at the fact that he had yet to say or do anything.
Your eyes once again met his and you almost laughed out loud at the sight you were faced with, but thankfully managed to control yourself and avoid making the situation even harder than it already was.
Long story short, Hux had never looked more horrified than he did in that moment.
He basically looked at you like you had killed his cat, and that was putting it lightly.
You took a few seconds to just enjoy watching him squirm and silently scramble to make sense of the situation, but even you knew when enough was enough and raised a questioning eyebrow at him in an attempt to get him moving.
“Well? What’s it going to be?” You asked. “It’s either this or the floor, just like it was for me.”
Hux opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again. He obviously hadn’t been expecting you to actually agree on sharing his bed with him and now that you had, he was left at loss for words as he clearly hadn’t been preparing for anything other than you sleeping on the floor.
But after a good moment of just standing there and looking like an idiot, he finally picked himself back up, squared his shoulders and walked around the bed to the other side with frustrated strides and a snarling lip.
The feigned confidence melted right off, however, when he reached his destination and awkwardly shuffled into bed while simultaneously avoiding your amused and mocking stare, silently grabbing the extra blanket that was folded upon his bedside table.
Both of you laid down on your backs and a heavy silence fell like a thick blanket over the room. The only sound you could hear for a few moments were each other’s breaths and your own heartbeats. For a moment, only for a microscopical moment, you were actually on your way to admit to yourself that it was kind of nice.
But that thought went flying out the window just as quickly as it had knocked on the door of your mind when Hux broke the silence by beginning to adjust himself to get ready to sleep, and in the process of doing so made the active choice to tug the pillows from right under your head.
The back of your head hit the mattress with a soft thump and you closed your eyes, your lips pulling into a straight, tight line and one, sharp breath being released through your nose as you attempted to keep your cool.
You took a moment to calm down, before you turned your head to his side of the bed where he now laid with his back to you and tugged the pillows back – maybe with a little too much force than necessary.
Hux had quickly rolled over to his other side to take them back and in anger and an eagerness to get to sleep, you exclaimed: “Stop stealing the pillows!”
He met you with a stare cold enough to have anyone else shaking in their boots and spat back. “They’re my pillows.”
You grumbled under your breath and let go of one of the two pillows, letting him pull it back to his side while you held on to the last one.
You stared at each other for a moment, both of you eventually coming to a silent, mutual agreement that you were too tired to fight and therefore he'd let you keep the pillow you were holding on to as if your life depended on it.
He, once again, laid down and turned his back to you, his hands holding on to the pillows under his head while you struggled to get comfortable again, this time with only one pillow.
“Why is your bed so damn hard?” You muttered under your breath as you angrily shoved your elbow into the mattress in an attempt to make it more comfortable – as if that was ever going to help.
“Stop complaining.” He only snapped back.
“How could I when I’m stuck in a bed with you?”
“You could’ve asked for other accommodations when you had the chance.”
“And what, be the next victim of Ren’s lightsaber?” You scoffed. “I’m the one in charge of the repairs that are needed every time he throws a wobbly. I’ve seen the kind of damage that thing can do and I’m not in any hurry to find myself at the receiving end of it.”
You muttered the last part under your breath as you finally managed to get relatively comfortable, plopping back down on your back and folding your hands over your stomach.
“How did you know I’m allergic to cats, anyway?” The question spilled out before you could stop yourself, and before you could even register that it was on the way.
Where did that even come from? Cats weren’t even close to being the subject at hand.
Hux didn’t seem to care much about the random change of subject, however, simply muttering back a reply. “You start sniffling and scratching your arms every time you’re in the same room as me for more than five minutes.”
He was clearly tired. Tired in general or just tired of you, you didn’t really know, but you guessed that it was a mixture of both since that was the case for you.
“Maybe I’m just allergic to you.” You muttered back with a shrug, even though he couldn’t see you, and he scoffed at that.
“Had that been the case I’m fairly certain it would go both ways and, unlike you, I don’t go around oozing snot everywhere I go.”
“I don’t go oozing snot everywhere.” You calmly protested, throwing the back of his head a disapproving glare before turning to lay on your side so that your back was now turned to his.
He didn’t say anything else and neither did you, sleep coming in and catching you completely by surprise and having you knocked out within the next two minutes.
When you woke up early that next morning, Hux was unsurprisingly already gone, Millicent instead laying in his place and looking right at you.
With a disgusted snarl and hesitant movements, you reached over to the other side of the bed and awkwardly patted her head twice, probably very much in the incorrect manner as you had no experience whatsoever with animals.
You got out of bed after that, put on your jacket and shoes, and wasted no time in getting to work once you’d gotten some food into your system, your team joining you in the damage-inflicted area to start on repairs like you’d done so many times before.
Everything was going fine and dandy, just a light-reckon day that started off like any other – if you didn’t count waking up in Hux’s bed with his cat – but a few hours into your workday, the unmistakable sound of Kylo Ren’s heavy steps could be heard echoing through the entire corridor you found yourself working in.
A big share of the Order’s pilots had been either killed or badly hurt a few days prior in an ambush. No one had expected any pilots to be needed for at least a few days but Kylo had gotten a sudden lead on the map that would take him to Luke Skywalker and was now walking around the base recruiting anyone capable of helping him get what he wanted.
Unfortunately for you, you were not only a highly-ranked engineer, but also a pretty decent pilot, and couldn’t say anything in protest when you were whisked away to a ship.
As anyone who wasn’t driven by an unhealthy obsession would have been able to guess, the lead was just too good to be true with a way too simple access.
Just like the last lead, this one fell through when it was revealed to be another ambush. You weren’t completely sure what happened, but over the comms, you had heard something about Leia Organa and some scavenger.
You didn’t have time to think about retired war heroes though, no matter how much you’d love to pry and the get in on the gossip, as you had to shoot yourself through a big fleet of Resistance starfighter corps, barely getting through with your ship intact.
Your fellow pilots were shot down one by one, only a small amount of you managing to get out of there. And even then, you were met by more starfighter corps just as quickly as you’d gotten away from the last line.
Everything was just a mess after that. You weren’t able to get through to anyone over the comms, only barely being able to make out a “pull back!” before your comm system was blown to pieces along with one of your main engines.
Along with several other ships, you were forced to crash-land on a small planet filled with thick woods and when your ship collided with the ground, your head slammed into the controls, rendering you unconscious for who knows how long.
By the time you came back to it, you were hanging upside down, the only thing preventing you from falling down being the seatbelt keeping you strapped in.
You struggled to get out of there but you managed, and had to take a moment to get your surroundings to stop spinning before moving forward to look for survivors as well as a ship that wasn’t completely beyond salvation.
You weren’t sure who you’d find, but the person you’d shared a bed with the previous night was definitely the last person you’d expect to have crashed in the same place as you.
And still, you recognized his ship immediately. After all, you were the one who had personalized it to fit his liking.
Lucky for you, his ship seemed to have gotten a pretty soft landing. As you circled around it, you were able to determine that no major engines had been blown out. Damaged? Definitely. But they looked intact enough to at least be able to put some more distance between you and the Resistance pilots and get you to a safer place. Hopefully, the inside would be as untouched as the outside.
The ramp was lowered to the ground but didn’t look broken, so you wasted no time in jogging inside.
The lights were out completely in the entrance area, and just flickering in the ceiling when you came further in.
The first thing you noticed when you entered the piloting pit was that the pilot was not breathing. How could you tell from that far a distance? Well, let’s just say that something that was not supposed to be stuck in his eye, was stuck in his eye.
Upon further inspection, you noticed another body on the floor. However, this one was very much alive.
You would’ve expected to be met by a desperate “help me”, maybe even some begging and pleading or in the very least a “please”, but instead, even when in the process of bleeding out on the floor, Hux narrowed his eyes at you as you approached him and asked you with ragged breaths:
“Is that my shirt?”
You panted as you dropped to your knees at his side, still pretty shaken up from your own crash. “What? No.” You replied in a breath, and you wasted no time in starting to inspect his injuries.
“Yes, it is.”
“Why would I be wearing your shirt?” You asked simply, struggling to see in the dark as the flickering lights weren’t providing much assistance by means of light.
“That’s my shirt.” He kept insisting, and flinched when your hand made contact with his lower abdomen.
Only then did your eyes register the glimmering piece of metal through your blurred and disoriented vision, sticking out of his side.
You flinched at the sight, not needing any more light than you had to know that it was really bad.
Your heart suddenly picked up in speed in your chest, and your hands began shaking as they became covered in his blood.
You had never been in the middle of the action before now, you’d always just been surrounded by metal and electricity. The most exciting thing you’d ever experienced was when a new engineer circuited a control panel the wrong way, resulting in it blowing up right by your workplace.
But it wasn’t the action in itself that had your heart about ready to burst through your chest, nor was it the blood in general, but rather the fact that it was his blood covering your hands.
His life was completely dependent on you at this moment and you had absolutely no idea how to behave accordingly.
But if there was something you knew, it was that the last thing you were supposed to do was to show a dying man your panic, so you took a deep breath and tried your hardest to steady your racing heart, going back to the conversation at hand.
“How could you tell the difference, really?” You asked. “All of our shirts look the same. All black, all equally as sufficient when used to stop blood flows.”
As you said that last part, you released another breath and ripped off a big chunk of the lower part of the shirt you were wearing.
A shirt that was, in fact, Hux's.
The man in question let his head fall back against the wall that he was propped against and his eyes squeezed shut when feeling your hands return to his side.
“Do you always wear shirts several sizes too big?” He managed to get out through clenched teeth and you replied without missing a beat.
“There was a mix-up in the laundry room.”
“So it isn’t your shirt?” He continued to be persistent and despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn’t help but to let a small smile slip.
“Do you want to keep fighting about whether or not this shirt is mine or would you rather maybe, oh, I don’t know, focus on getting the hell out of here?” You asked him lightly and at that, he raised his head to meet your eyes with a distrusting glare.
“Why are you helping me?”
You raised your eyebrow at him, sparing just a second to meet his eyes. “You have a piece of metal stuck in your side, why the hell would I not help you?” You asked and as quickly as you had looked up, you looked back down at your hands to see what you were doing.
“You hate me, and I hate you.” He deadpanned, and you couldn’t deny you felt your heart tug in your chest.
“Who told you I hated you?” You asked, and listened as he let out a dry, struggling laugh.
“You did. On countless occasions.”
He hissed when you accidentally bumped your hand against the piece of metal. You quietly apologized but didn’t stop, knowing you didn’t have much time before the enemy would catch up with you.
“Thinking that I’m entitled to everything I want isn’t the only bad habit I have. I also have a tendency to overexaggerate.” You joked with a smile. “I do find you insufferably infuriating, though.”
Another chuckle left his lips. “Likewise.” He said and dropped his head back against the wall.
You said nothing more, ripping another two pieces off of the shirt, tying them together and wrapping it around his waist like you had the first piece. You tightened this knot significantly more than the first one, though, right above the piece of metal, and just as quickly as he had relaxed, he jerked back forward with a yell.
“I need to stop the bleeding, you need to keep still.” You hurriedly scolded and sternly pushed him back down by his chest.
He muttered bitterly in return, but didn’t protest.
“I bet you’re enjoying this.” He seethed, and you raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips.
“Whenever I’m feeling down, I just think back to the multiple times I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing you being force-thrown across a room by Ren. Puts a smile on my face every time. But that doesn’t automatically mean I want you to die. So stop wallowing in your internalized self-hatred and put your hand over mine.” You told him, trying your hardest to keep a lighthearted attitude, more so for your own sake than his at this point as you were literally about to pass out.
But he did as told, contributing with the strength he had left when you got to your feet and started pulling him up and into one of the seats that were still intact.
He put a trembling hand over yours and in turn, you put your other one over his and pushed down. He hissed and you gave him a moment to adjust, and when you were sure he was pressing hard enough with his own hand, you slowly removed both of yours and fastened his seatbelt.
“Keep pressure and hold on tight. This is most likely going to be a rough ride.” You warned him, and he slowly looked up at you through a mess of ginger hair.
“It can’t be any worse than the ride here.” He retorted and you nodded, taking that as a “go ahead”.
You wasted no time in getting into the pilot’s seat after pulling the previous pilot out, as well as the thick tree branch on which his head had been impaled, and started up the controls. It took a few tries to get out of the hole the ship hade gotten stuck in when crashing, but soon enough you were up in the sky.
With a bit of dumb luck, you eventually reached your destination and got brought back in to the base by your team of fellow engineers, all ready to repair the wrecked ship.
Hux was immediately taken to the medical bay while you stayed behind to help with the ships, and from two ends of the base, the two of you silently and separately came to realize that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t hate each other as much as you thought, after all.
#hux x reader#hux imagine#hux#armitage hux#armitage hux x reader#armitage hux imagine#general hux#general hux imagine#general hux x reader#domnhall gleeson#star wars#star wars imagine#star wars x reader#kylo ren#knights of ren#the first order
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okay, i’ll admit it. (Spencer Reid x Reader)
Summary: Reader confronts her boyfriend Spencer about her insecurities and his answer wasn’t what she was expecting.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
This is my first go at fanfic, so let me know what you think if you choose to read!
CW: Just relationship insecurities, mild angst (with a happy ending), mentions of the deceased Maeve.
***not my gif***
You were ecstatic that you reached this milestone with your boyfriend, Spencer. Together for two whole years, that is something that no one was expecting from the genius who was usually unlucky when it came to romance. You were hopelessly in love with Spencer. I mean, why wouldn’t you be? He was everything that you ever dreamed of. Not that you guys didn’t argue; you were human, of course you did. It was usually about something minor and silly; you using up all of the hot water so that he had to take a cold shower, or him not doing the dishes or helping you clean your shared apartment until you nagged him into it, normal things that long-term couples argue about. Those arguments were ones that were resolved quickly. But for the past week (the week after your anniversary), you had been having deeper arguments that seriously needed resolved. It started Saturday night when he got home from a tough case. A man lost his girlfriend to a female suicidal unsub, which brought back all of his buried feelings about Maeve. You knew what happened with Maeve since Spencer was one of your closest friends before you began dating, but you never understood the severity of how it affected him. You personally didn’t see why it would affect him the way it did. He saw awful things everyday and even though he established a relationship with her, he had only met her once, and all they did was talk on the phone, write letters, and share information on their lives. He thought that he had lost Emily, who he cared for deeply and worked with every day, so it didn’t make much sense that Maeve’s death affected him more than Emily’s ‘death’ did. However, his team had notified you how badly he was hurt, so you made a conscious effort to never talk about Maeve with Spencer. Well, until Saturday.
“I don’t know why you nag me so much when I get home from a tough case, Y/N! I am only human, even though people joke that I must be a robot! I have feelings, and you would think that you of all people would try to tend to them!” Spencer had shouted at you after all you did was approach him several times to ask him to stop reading his book so that you two could cuddle on the couch.
“Spencer, you see terrible things all the time, and I try not to nag you when you get home, ever! I didn’t realize that seeking your attention and affection was such a bother to you!” you retorted.
“I don’t see how you can want my affection when I am so obviously thinking about a woman that I’ve loved and lost before our relationship began.” Spencer said, while not being able to look you in your eyes.
“Well apparently it isn’t that obvious, because I hadn’t known that you were thinking of her.” you said.
“Y/N...,” he began, “I’m reading the book that I told you she gifted to me. I told you about the case when I called you last night, which almost directly mirrors the events that led me to lose Maeve. How could it not be obvious that I’m thinking of her?” he asked.
“I am sorry that you are hurting right now. But the fact of the matter is, I am your girlfriend. Me. And I’m right here, and I’m alive.” you said weakly.
“That was incredibly insensitive, Y/N.”
“HOW?! How was that insensitive, Spencer?! It’s the truth! You met Maeve once! You only talked on the phone or in letters! You didn’t even know her. You knew whatever she told you, but that’s the extent of it. You don’t know what type of person she was. Her ex ‘stalked her,’ so she claimed, but you don’t know if that is entirely true. She may have been crazy or a bad person just manipulating you! You didn’t live with her! You just don’t know! But I am right here, and you know me better than I know myself, or so I thought, and I love you! I’ve bought you books before, too, but you don’t obsess over them the way you obsess over that one! It doesn’t make sense to me, Spencer, am I not good enough for you?” you said as tears fell from your eyes.
“I can’t believe you,” Spencer muttered, totally unmoved by your tears. “I love Maeve more than anything in the world, Y/N. And you weren’t there, you aren’t in my head and you don’t know how I feel. You don’t have the right to question the depth of those feelings. And if you’re done belittling my dead girlfriend, I’m going to bed,” and with that, he went to the bedroom.
You couldn’t help but notice he didn’t assure you that you were good enough. You also noticed that he called Maeve his ‘girlfriend’ rather than his ‘ex.’ You chose to sleep on the couch that night.
The next morning, Spencer refused to be the one to break the silence. He truly thought that you were in the wrong for being so harsh when discussing Maeve, but he didn’t recognize the insecurity and pain that was reflected in your statement. So you spent the remainder of the weekend avoiding each other, and when he left for work on Monday, you decided to give him the cold shoulder just as he was doing to you. You didn’t answer his calls or texts, even though they were few and far between compared to how he normally does.
They didn’t have a case all week, so they used the opportunity to catch up on the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated at the BAU, but Spencer was home well before dinner each night. On Wednesday night, he looked up from his book to you doing the dishes after a silent dinner, and asked “Are you just never going to talk to me again?”
Your temper flared and you spit back, “Why would I? You told me that you love Maeve, but yet you haven’t told me that you love me since before you left for the last case. You act like I’m not good enough for you anymore. You said she was your ‘girlfriend,’ when I thought that I had that title. You’re over there reading that stupid book while I’m doing all the damn chores. So what exactly do you want me to say to you?”
“I meant to say that I loved Maeve, Y/N. And she wasn’t even my girlfriend. That was just the best word I could think of to describe our relationship. And the book is not stupid.”
“No, Spencer, the best way to describe your relationship would have been EX-girlfriend.”
“The book isn’t stupid. Maybe you just don’t understand it.”
“You’re right Spencer. I’m just too stupid to understand it, right?”
“Y/N I didn’t mean---”
“Oh don’t try to back track now, Spencer. You said what you felt, right? I’m just your stupid replacement apparently. I’m sorry that I can’t be more like Maeve for you,” and with that, you stormed out of the apartment. You weren’t sure where to go, so you wandered aimlessly, expecting Spencer to follow you. He didn’t. You ended up walking to Emily’s, and told her all about your fight with Spencer.
“Y/N,” Emily said, “I think that you need to tell him how much it upsets you that he’s still hung up over Maeve. I know you are hurting, but he can’t read your mind.” You thought about her words as she drove you home. When you arrived, Spencer was already in bed. You slept on the couch yet again.
On Thursday evening, you cooked dinner as usual, and did the dishes, as usual. You were feeling exhausted, so you got comfortable on the couch after the nightly chores were done. Spencer looked up from his desk and said, “Why don’t you sleep in the bedroom?”
“Are you planning on sleeping out here, then?” you asked.
“Y/N, we can still sleep in the same bed.”
“Not if the whole time you’re wishing it was Maeve lying next to you rather than me.”
Spencer actually closed the book as he looked up to you and spoke, “I have never wished it weren’t you. I just wish you weren’t so dramatic. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Y/N. I’m allowed to have thoughts about others.”
“Okay, Spencer. You’re right. My feelings don’t matter,” you say through tears as you head toward the bedroom. “Oh, and by the way, Spence, my world DOES revolve around you. And I would never want you to feel this way.”
Spencer joins you in the bedroom after he thinks you’re asleep but he’s on the phone with someone. You try not to be obvious as you listen to the conversation.
“I know, I know, I just wish she were a little more understanding. I do love her very much, and want a future with her, but it just seems like she’s angry that I had feelings for another woman before her... I hate not talking to her though. She’s my favorite part of the day... I hope she stops being mad at me soon... Okay, see you tomorrow, bye,” he hangs up as he crawls into bed. You feel somewhat guilty because you aren’t necessarily mad at him... You’re just upset.
On Friday morning, you feel Spencer kiss you goodbye even though it’s obvious he still thinks you’re asleep. That melts your heart, so you decided that you needed to try to resolve things. You had the day off from the hospital, so you headed into the bullpen of the BAU, but as you do, you notice something that throws you off. Spencer was laughing and playfully ‘fighting’ with JJ. You knew that he had had a crush on her, but you thought it was in the past tense. But after what was before your eyes and the events that unfolded over the weekend, you weren’t so sure. He caught your eye and stopped his actions immediately. That only increased your suspicions. You approached him with the lunch you had brought for him and set it on his desk in front of him.
“Hi,” you said shyly.
“Hi. What’s this?” he questioned.
“I thought that I would bring you some lunch today. It’s from that new Thai restaurant. I hope you like it,” and with that, you decided it was best to just head back home.
He opened the bag and discovered that you had written him a letter.
Dear Spencer,
I am sorry about what I said over the past few days. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or disrespect Maeve in any way. It’s just that I have been feeling really insecure lately, and I feel like you don’t love me the way that I love you. I know that your job is emotionally and physically exhausting, and I want to support you in any way that I can. But I have emotional needs too. You have barely wanted to even touch me this week, or even talk to me. And I’ve noticed that any time you read the book she gave to you, you seem to resent me or forget that I even exist. I understand that I am not as smart as you or that I’m not as pretty as what you deserve, but I do love you and would do anything to make you happy. I hope that you feel the same.
Guilt washed through Spencer as your words and actions began to make a lot of sense. He pulled out his phone to call you, but you didn’t answer. So he sent a text that read, “Hey sweetheart. I just read your letter. I am so sorry that you are feeling that way. Please come back so that we can have lunch together.”
Your response was simply, “I already ate,” even though that was a lie.
Spencer texted back, “Okay, well let’s go grab coffee or ice cream, or both if you want. :)”
“That’s okay Spencer, take JJ instead.”
He called again, and you quickly pushed decline. A frustrated sigh left his lips, and he pushed ‘call’ one more time.
This time, you answered, “What, Spencer?”
“Are you seriously upset that I was talking to JJ?”
“Not talking Spencer, flirting. You were flirting with JJ, and you know it. You think that I forgot that you were in love with her too? I am sorry that I am not enough for you, but maybe you should just dump me instead, okay?” and with that, you hung up.
He was angry with himself for not realizing why that felt that way. The way you had been acting all week was obviously because you felt insecure. You weren’t trying to hurt him, he realized, you were just hurt yourself. When Spencer came home, he saw you running around the house cleaning and putting away laundry. “Baby, can we talk?”
“Sure,” you replied while you were hanging up his work clothes.
“Do you want me to help with that?” he asked, as he pointed at the laundry basket.
“I mean, they are YOUR clothes. You never seem to help me around the house though until I ‘nag’ you first, so you don’t have to help if it will be that big of an inconvenience for you.”
“Y/N, I am so sorry that I am hurting you. I guess I didn’t even realize that I was. I am so incredibly sorry.”
“Do you love me? Or do you love Maeve? Or JJ? I honestly can’t handle being a second, or I guess, third, option anymore.”
“There are different levels of love, baby. I used to have feelings for JJ, but I love her as if she were my sister. I did have a crush on her, but I also had a crush on you before I had you. And that’s a crush that never faded like the one with JJ did. And okay, I’ll admit it. I did love Maeve. I saw a future with her that I didn’t dream of before her. I felt like there were so many opportunities that were lost once she was gone. But you are my future now. Sometimes I do wish I could’ve saved her, not because I don’t love you, but because I failed to protect her. It was hard to adjust to life without her, but I did. But on the way home I was thinking about you. If I had lost you the way I lost her, there’s no way I could ever recover. If you had even left me because I’ve been neglecting your needs, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I also love my mom, of course, and I love my team. But, Y/N, I am so unconditionally and irreversibly in love with you. I am so sorry that you’ve been feeling insecure. But honey, you are so much more than enough for me; No woman in this world can hold a candle to you. You are brilliant, beautiful, funny, and so, so, sexy,” he adds as he plants kisses on your neck.
“I love you, Spence,” you say in between panting breaths.
“I love you more than anything, Y/N. And please, tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it. I don’t want you to feel like this anymore. You want more help around the house? I’ll fold the laundry, I’ll do the dishes, I’ll vacuum. I will never again say no to cuddling after a case. I wanna give you the world, baby.”
“You’ll do ANYTHING?” you ask. Spencer nodded.
“Can we go get that ice cream now?” you asked with a smile.
Spencer gave you a chaste kiss and replied, “I’ll get the keys.”
This was my first time writing fanfic so I’m sorry if it was bad but I got the idea and had to write it down. If you read it let me know what you think!
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid imagines#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x you#reader insert#doctor reid#dr. spencer reid#dr. reid#spencer reid fluff
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Interview with Beastie Boys for Machina magazine, 07/1998
By: Rafał Bryndal
Translation: Anna Bak ( @styleiswild )
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Introduction: The party called Beastie Boys in Lisbon went on for two days. On the first day we (the journalists) were invited to the magical “Kremlin” club to listen to the new album [Hello Nasty]. I don’t think I have to explain how I felt knowing that I was possibly one of the first Polish people to listen to that phenomenal record. On the second day each of us got to meet the band in Hotel Ritz during the so-called “round-table.” It’s like a private conversation with the artists. It looks a bit like a coffee party at your aunt’s. (…) The whole meeting was just as absurd, in a positive way. The answers they gave us were often ironic, as one could expect.
R.B.: Don’t you think that being Beastie Boys is way cooler than being any other band in the world?
MCA: Unfortunately, we haven’t tried being a different band yet. So I can’t really answer your question.
Mike D: To be honest, there’s something to it. Maybe because we have so much fun working together. It’s not always fun, of course. We do work from time to time, but only sometimes.
R.B.: It seems like you work on your albums for fun and pleasure exclusively?
Mike D: I think it’s because we don’t release them that often.
Ad-Rock: Yes… Yes, you must be right, man.
Ad-Rock: Yes… Yes, you must be right, man.
MCA: Hey, we’d released Ill Communication after a two year break.
R.B.: Yeah, but this one took you four years.
MCA: Yeah, we had to level it out. It takes us three years most of the time.
R.B.: You grew up together. Are you always on such good terms with one another?
MCA: Sometimes there’ll be tripartite fights. Not sure you’ve ever seen what it looks like when three people fight each other. Each of them against the other two. That happens sometimes. Rarely, though. To be honest, we don’t really argue much.
R.B.: Your new album seems a bit like a departure from The In Sound from Way Out!
Mike D: Hello Nasty is a collection of a dozen or so songs, each of them stylistically different. That’s why you can’t really compare it to our previous releases. I guess, though, that at least two of the songs would’ve worked well as instrumentals on the previous album.
R.B.: How do you deal with the new technologies in music?
Mike D: Technology is present in all genres today and you can’t run from that. Music evolves largely thanks to the new technology. Especially hip hop music. We do it like the true rappers do, which means we start with a drum machine, then we put it on a loop, and then we use digital delay system. That’s one of the newest inventions. Technology is unpredictable, because people – who are its creators – have no clue about what the artists can do with it.
R.B.: Is it true what they say on the internet? That this album is the first one of the three that you’ve recorded lately?
MCA: You’ve really heard about that?
Mike D: Gosh, you can’t keep anything secret today.
Ad-Rock: Three? To be honest, we’ve got many more albums recorded.
Mike D: The last one of the three is a country album. The genre is so popular that you can’t really keep such a record a secret anymore. Especially when you’re in Manhattan and you walk around in a cowboy fit, it’s suspicious as hell. Because there aren’t many cowboys in Manhattan. People see a guy in a cowboy fit and assume that he has to be working on a country album.
R.B.: Is it really so important for your clothes to fit the style of your music?
MCA: You identify with your music more when you dress up. People often cheat, they wear clothes that don’t fit the music they play.
R.B.: So what kind of clothes did you guys wear when working on Hello Nasty?
MCA: I wore a bat girl costume.
Ad-Rock: I dressed up as a scared woman.
Mike D: I’d wear a bathing suit, because I wanted to go swimming all the time.
Ad-Rock: We couldn’t really find what we were looking for at first. We tried on a range of fits and finally found those that went well with our music.
R.B.: You’ve been popular with skateboarders. It’s a group of people who wear unique clothes and listen to a lot of your music, as it seems. Do you identify with this subculture?
MCA: I don’t think it’s just that one subculture. There are a few more we’d like to identify with.
Mike D: For me it’s long gone. Skateboarding isn’t much of an extreme or exclusive kind of sports discipline anymore. It’s become very popular.
R.B.: You’ve worked with Lee “Scratch” Perry on the new album. Can you tell me what kind of benefits did that bring you?
Mike D: It’s hard to say, but we’ve always been pretty impressed with his work on dub music. He’s also inspired Mario Caldato, our studio engineer. For me, Lee is an artist of science, a living fucking legend.
R.B.: Do you think that you can inspire young musicians?
MCA: Sure, but that’s a normal thing, right? If music is evolving as a part of culture, then everything and everyone inspires that process. We’re happy that we can be a part of that culture to some degree.
R.B.: A lot of white kids have gotten into rap music thanks to “Rhymin’ & Stealin’.” At least that’s what happened to me…
MCA: As a white kid… Right, it’s hard to be a black kid in Finland.
Mike D: We discovered hip hop when we were thirteen or fourteen. We’d go and see Public Enemy and bands like that. We were totally enchanted. It’s not that weird that kids who listen to us want to do the same thing.
R.B.: Some people say that you don’t like it when other artists sample your music. Some say that you’re more liberal, though.
MCA: It all depends on how the sample is used. If it’s creative, then we’re here for it. But if they go and copy our own ideas, and the whole track revolves around that idea, then we’re obviously pissed off.
R.B.: Are you as satisfied with making music as you’re with your magazine and your record label?
MCA: It’s all really about creating something new, publishing the mag, recording albums or playing gigs… We’re really into humanitarian work, too. Sure, the music is the most important thing of all. Nobody knows where it comes from, it’s hard to define the process of making music. It comes from subconsciousness.
R.B.: I’ve heard that you were to make a movie based on your “Sabotage” video?
Mike D: Unfortunately, that’s not true.
MCA: It doesn’t change the fact that we’re planning to make a movie…
R.B.: About what?
MCA: You can actually watch it in the cinema already, because Spice Girls had stolen our screenplay and made it their own.
R.B.: In the 80s there were a lot of humanitarian aids, like benefit concerts during which quite a lot of money got lost for a very simple reason. Those actions were organized on such a grand scale that it was nearly impossible to control the funds. Aren’t you scared that the same thing can happen to your organization?
MCA: Free Tibet is there to help people find out about the issue and educate them on it. The money that we get helps us organize the Tibetan Freedom Concerts. It’s not like those other actions from the past that were strictly about collecting funds.
R.B.: Do you believe that the bands you invite to play consider the gigs something more than simply another type of self-promotion?
MCA: I feel that most of those artists are really moved by the issue we’re trying to bring to people’s attention.
R.B.: You’re fighting for free Tibet, while recently it’s been 50 years since the State of Israel was formed. And Palestinians are fighting for their rights to be respected. Why have you taken on Tibet and not Palestine?
MCA: Tibetans’ fight is based on the idea of non-violence. It’s a peaceful fight. The contrast between the brutality of the Chinese government and that quiet fight of Tibetans does make an impression, and that’s why we’re popularizing the ideas behind the Tibetan struggle. We believe that the non-violent, peaceful act is the only logical way of dealing with the issue.
R.B.: Even if the peaceful fight ends up leading to the extinction of Tibetan culture?
MCA: The same thing will happen if Tibetans decide to use violence as a means to gain their freedom.
R.B.: Is it true that your music is banned in Hong Kong?
MCA: That’s right. We can’t play there. Our albums can’t be sold on their market. All of the bands playing for Milarepa are banned from performing in China.
R.B.: You’ve met Dalai Lama on several occasions. Does he like your music?
MCA: Dalai Lama doesn’t listen to pop music at all. Lots of bands give him their CDs. He takes them because he doesn’t want them to feel bad, but he won’t give them a listen.
Ad-Rock: That’s why he stores so many demos at home.
R.B. What is Dalai Lama like?
MCA: He’s fantastic. He’s a great role model, representing all of the values people associate with Tibetan culture, with Buddhism. He’s got great charisma. He oozes calmness that comes from the respect he has for everyone.
R.B. What’s his opinion on Tibetan Freedom Concert?
MCA: He thinks it’s an excellent way of spreading his word. For him, the concert is a kind of holiday.
R.B.: As far as I know, you have a slightly different view on the future of Tibet. He wants to negotiate with the Chinese government about Tibet’s legal right to autonomy in China, while you fight for total freedom for Tibet as a sovereign country. Is that true?
MCA: It’s related to his view on the type of fight. He’s so scared of any form of violence that he’s ready to negotiate with the Chinese government. He’s choosing the lesser of two evils, that’s what he’s doing. We’re in a completely different situation, though. As American citizens, we want to speak with our government about freedom for Tibet. We believe that Tibetans should be free and we want to encourage the government to take action to help Tibetans gain autonomy.
R.B.: The “Sabotage” music video was unique and quite shocking. Are your new clips going to be equally as original?
Ad-Rock: It’s gonna be some good shit.
MCA: We had lots of fun working on it. The “Sabotage” video had a lot to do with the song, though. Our new clips won’t have anything to do with the songs. They can be treated as independent short features. We plan to make a couple more totally different clips.
R.B.: You’ve been a band for so long that you must be best friends and not only, let’s say, collaborators. Can you please describe one another?
Mike D: Adam Horovitz is, to use basketball terminology, the play maker. He shows us how we’re supposed to play because he’s the one in charge of the balls. Sometimes he can’t score from a distance, though. Adam Yauch, on the other hand, is a very unusual power forward. His style is completely devoid of aggression, unlike Karl Malone’s. Or Charles Barkley’s. He can dull his opponent’s vigilance with his slow moves and get all the points.
Ad-Rock: Mike is an idiot and a thief. Yauch is a liar. I’m as cool as James Bond.
Mike D: Some people might say that we’re CSC. Crazy Sexy Cool. And that’s what we wanna be.
R.B.: Can you explain your record cover? You’re in a tin and you look like sardines.
Mike D: Doesn’t it sound pretty? “Sardine tin”? It’s almost like a big surprise. You open the tin and it turns out that people’s lives are similar to the life of sardines.
MCA: Maybe this album was recorded by sardines and you’re now talking to them? Who does know?
#beastie boys#mca#adam yauch#ad rock#adam horovitz#mike d#michael diamond#1998#90s#hello nasty#hello nasty era#scans#interview#music interview#beastie boys interview#this is not an ‘official’ translation ofc#done it in my free time#my posts
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Memories - lrh (Chapter Three)
Memories (also on Wattpad)
Chapter Two ※※※※※ Chapter Four
My mother spent the night with me and early in the morning I managed to convince her to go home and sort out her own things. Stephen was supposed to arrive at 8 am and I didn't want her here when that happened, she wouldn't like to see him at all.
“If there's anything I'll call, you can go, really.” I assure her, who goes reluctantly.
The clock struck five to eight and I was for the thousandth time running my hands through my hospital gown and my hair. My hands were sweating and my stomach was churning, I stared at the door as if I wanted to open it with the power of my mind, until it opened.
It was shocking to see him so different from what I remembered. His hair was shaved and bleached, almost white. Now he had a colorless rose on his neck that took up half of his left side and a piercing in his septum. He was a different person, just like me, it really had been years.
“Only Marnie McGonagall manages to remain exuberant even all run down.” he cracks a wide smile to break the tension. “These are for you!” he hands me a bouquet of daisies. They're not my favorite, but I thank him.
“Thank you, they are beautiful. Thank you for coming.” I try to control my breathing. It's all so strange.
“I was surprised by the call, I swore that after you left you would never speak to me again.” he throws himself on the chair beside the bed.
“So our breakup was real?”
“Yes, but not the way you were told, you met this famous guy and fell for him. We had already broken up when I started going out with Bethany.” he talks as if he is talking about the weather. The mention of him and Bethany together makes me nauseous, maybe it was jealousy.
“My mother talked about cheating, that I caught you guys.” I introduce the subject calmly, I know how much Stephen hates to be accused of anything. He rolls his eyes like he' s saying ‘I knew it.’.
“It impresses me that you buy that, Lizzie. You know how much your parents hate me. You broke up with me, that's true, but because you met this guy. He bewitched you, and it wasn't easy to get over you.”
I take a deep breath trying to control myself. It was too much information, too much information. I had broken up with Stephen for Luke, this didn't make any sense. I loved Stephen, I still do. Maybe this memory loss was a chance for us to get back to the way things were before.
“Did you and Bethany...?”
“No! It didn't work out, then she moved to Canada with her family, it wasn't going to work out, and deep down…” he comes closer, sitting on the bed and holding my hand. “I still love you.”
I open my mouth, but can't say anything, the statement takes me in total surprise. Stephen seizes the moment and kisses me. Nostalgia overwhelms me and all the moments we have lived through take over my mind, but deep, deep down, something screams in my head, it wasn't right, it didn't feel right. It wasn't him.
I lower my head breaking the kiss, feeling more lost than before. Stephen holds himself in place, but my urge is to push him away. Something bubbles up inside me and it is not happiness or passion.
“I think it's time for you to go.” I let out a harsher tone than I expected. I still don't face his eyes, maybe out of fear, maybe because I can't bear to look at him.
“You call me here and send me away like this?” he asks incredulously and offended. “You are unbelievable, Marnie. I don't know why I still waste my time with you. Your memory may have faded, but deep down you are still under his spell.” at that moment I abruptly turn my face to meet his. I know that my eyes are burning with anger, and so are his.
“I said, it's time for you to go.” I say in a broken voice, listening to my heartbeat rise.
Stephen stares for a few seconds before he gets up, picks up the daisies, and slams the door. I sink into bed, trying to calm myself. It really wasn't one of my better ideas to call Stephen here, but maybe it was necessary.
I turn on the TV and flip through the channels until I notice a picture of me. I go back to the channel and turn up the volume. They are talking about my accident and without me being able to prepare myself, they play the video of how it all happened.
I hold my breath as the pickup truck crashes into my side, causing my car to spin on the road and crash into the pole. They play it one more time, but in slow motion. The tip of my nose tingles and my eyes start to fill up.
Still watching the TV, my mind brings back the moment of the accident.
"I crank up the starter and before I can send the audio, I feel a loud impact on my left side. A deafening noise fills the entire car. Quite faintly, I watch the track spin and feel the shards of glass hit me, before I give myself over to that uncontrollable sleep."
The video changes and they show my attending, I cover my mouth, watching my unconscious body being pulled from the car.
My stomach clenches and I feel like vomiting from the nervousness. I turn off the TV and grab my cell phone, going back to researching my life in an attempt to distract myself.
Unlike yesterday, I Google my name and see what headlines pop up about me. Some sites give a brief summary of my trajectory, which helps me a little.
I watch some videos of rehearsals, interviews, fashion shows, even those videos of paparazzi leaving restaurants, with him. I look again at Instagram calmly, photo by photo, video by video, even the stories archives. There are several parties, trips, slumber nights, bts from photo rehearsals, and a lot of stuff with him, again. Of course, he is your boyfriend. Asshole!
I barely recognize myself on the screen. The Marnie I watch is outgoing, funny and charismatic, and I was never like that, at least as far back as I can remember. Which leads me to believe that this Marnie, model, famous and full of important friends, is a character.
Leah, Noah, Calum, Ashton, Mike and Kyleen. They don't just seem like friends, they seem like my family, brothers, I don't know. While it is fun to watch some of these videos, of all of us fooling around and messing up, on the other hand it hurts not to have any memories of them.
“How is my little girl doing?” I snap out of my trance and run my eyes to the door. I feel my eyes water as I recognize the middle-aged man.
“Dad!” I hadn't realized the urge to cry until I saw him. Until I felt his embrace.
“ It's okay, my love. I'm here. It's going to be all right, I swear!” he comforts me while I soak his shirt.
“ I'm sorry.” I pull away, trying to control my tears.
“For what?” he looks at me curiously. I shrug, not knowing what to say. Lately I feel I have to apologize for everything. “Honey, none of this is your fault. This amnesia is just a sequel, in a little while it will go away and you will remember everything.”
“I hope so. Even because everything I've forgotten has been very hard to remember.” I comment, playing with the bar of the blanket.
“ It's been a busy three years. You went from just my little girl, to one of the top models of 2019. That's quite a breakthrough.” he laughs, which makes me crack a smile. Only my dad could make me find that funny.
“Apparently I'm dating a rock star.” I join in with him.
“A very nice guy, I must say. He gave me a Gibson guitar.” he widens his eyes, emphasizing how awesome that was.
“Dad, you play guitar?” that would be nothing compared to what I couldn't remember.
“No, but it is amazing to have it on the wall.” for the first time since this whole nightmare, I allow myself to laugh.
My father spent the rest of the morning with me. He told me about his new job and how he was traveling the world now, helping his boss. I don't know how my mother was dealing with all this, she hated to be away from him.
“Mom must not like this new job of yours at all, huh?” I ask, scraping my red Jell-O.
I glare at my father when I notice his silence. We were sharing the bed space, he also had a Jell-O and we looked like two little girls gossiping while stuffing themselves with ice cream. I find his silence strange and wonder if something is wrong.
“Dad?” I call him once more.
“I was trying to find the best way to tell you this.” he sits up straight.
“What? Did you and Mom have a fight?” that was normal, not that big a deal.
“No! Actually, a little more than two years ago, your mother and I talked and we thought it was better to go our separate ways... with different people.” he speaks very slowly, calmly, and a little fearfully. I blink a few times, taking in the words and what they meant together. They got divorced?
I sit up like him, feeling uneasy. I start to breathe deeply. My relationship went down the drain. My parents broke up. Bethany disappeared across Canada. Nothing, absolutely nothing, that I had before had survived.
“Honey?” he brings me back to reality.
“Why? What? What happened?’ I ask. He opens his mouth a few times, saying nothing, trying to find what to say.
“Things were not going very well anymore. We were arguing too much and not even looking at each other anymore.” he takes a deep breath, visibly uncomfortable. “And I had an affair with a woman from my old job, that was the end of it.” he says so low, I can hardly hear, and honestly, it was better not to listen.
I always grew up thinking that my father was the best man in the world. My superhero. Prince Charming from all the Disney movies. The kind of man I would like to meet in my life. And then I find out that my father was none of these things. He is just like all the others.
“How could you?” disgust overflows in my mouth. “You have a family.” again something bubbles up inside me.
“I have no excuse, no justification, I was wrong and I regret the way things turned out. It didn't have to be this way. Okay, today your mother and I are friends and we go our separate ways, but there was no need for all that suffering to happen.” he stares again at the jelly, ashamed.
Silence fills the room. Nobody knows what to say. I don't recognize the man next to me. I don't even know what is going on in my head at the moment, there are so many thoughts and assumptions that I feel like I'm going crazy.
“Have you found someone yet? I mean, are you still with that woman from your old job?” I ask softly, poking the skin on my finger.
“No, she was just a fling. It didn't work out. Your mother was seeing someone until last month, but apparently it didn't work out.” he shrugs, which shocks me a little. I know it's so natural for them, but I'm still absorbing it here. “I met someone, Meredith. We've been together for a year now.” he gives me a beautiful, passionate smile. “Let me show you some pictures.” He gets as excited as a teenager. “Unless you don't want to.” he looks at me fearfully.
“I want to.” I crack a tight smile.
My father is back to being the excited teenager as he shows me the pictures of Meredith and her children. Children?
“They're yours?” I ask slightly jealous.
“No, Kendall and Samantha are from her first marriage, they are twins.” he smiles. “But I love them as if they were my own, the same way I love you.” he gives me a kiss on the side of my head.
He passes me another picture and my heart races as soon as I see them both, he on my lap and she on Luke's lap. I hold up the cell phone and stare at the picture with an ache in my chest.
“This was at my wedding, you both looked beautiful.” my father comments softly. I bite my lip, trying to control my crying and smiling at the same time. We really did look beautiful.
“I always wanted to have brothers, remember?” I ask with my voice shaking. I pass another picture and now my father and Meredith are posing with the four of us.
“They think you are the best big sister in the world.” I grimace, letting the tears come over me. They are not from sadness. Honestly, I don't even know what they are from, but the feeling is good.
Around lunchtime my father left, as he was exhausted, he had come straight here from the airport after a 12 hour flight. I was alone for the rest of the afternoon reading, until my mother arrived at 4pm to pick me up.
When we left the room, I noticed that Luke didn't come, which I find strange, since I remember my mother had commented that he was coming with her.
“He had an upcoming incident with the band, but he should be at your apartment later.”
The fact that I have to wait longer to talk to him makes me nervous and anxious. I just wish he would show up soon so he could help me with everything and clear up the sea of curiosity.
Along the way, I am talking to my mother about her and my father. I was so distracted by the conversation that I didn't even notice when we arrived in front of a beautiful building.
“Are you sure we are at the right address?” I ask looking out the window. My mother laughs and gets out of the car. I live here?
When we get to my floor, I realize that there is only one apartment per floor. We must be at the wrong address. My jaw drops as I enter the hall of the apartment.
Right away I find a huge painting of myself on the wall to my left. I was wearing that strange make-up and an even stranger outfit. The tone is black and white, but I am sure that the color picture is very colorful.
“This was the picture of your first magazine cover.” my mother clarifies with a huge smile on her face. I stare at my picture again, still frowning.
I follow my mother into the living room, once again letting my jaw drop. I had a living room right at the entrance, to my right was the living room with a huge TV, and to my left was the dining room. Slowly, I walk through the space, looking at everything breathlessly.
“Is this my apartment?” I ask in surprise. My mother lets out a short laugh before confirming. “I bought it?” she nods. “With my money?” she nods again. “As a model?” she laughs. “Okay! This is still too much for me.”
I walk curiously around the apartment again, looking at the kitchen, living rooms and, of course, the bedrooms. Two guest rooms and mine. When I reach the second floor, I am confronted with a hallway full of pictures. They range from personal photos to work photos. I pay more attention to the pictures of me and Luke. We are a beautiful couple.
I go into my room and find everything arranged. I let the excitement take over me when I see the closet. I look at the clothes, amazed, besides several boxes of brands like Gucci, Prada and Chanel still unopened.
On the last shelf, I see an older looking box, the slightly faded color catches my eye. I pull out a small ladder and carefully pull the box onto my lap, it wasn't heavy, but doing this with a broken arm and a twisted leg is not easy.
I sit down on the closet floor itself and open the box, wishing I hadn't seen it and maybe never opened it. I gently run my hand over those little souvenirs with tears in my eyes once again. I need to stop crying.
Movie and concert tickets, dried flowers, empty peanut cans, cards, cabin photos, and beer caps, everything I lived through with Luke. The feeling that takes over me is almost suffocating. My body feels and radiates all that it represented, but my mind would not let the image load.
Underneath it all, I pull out a diary and, at the same time that curiosity eats away at me, fear also takes over. I close my eyes and open to a random page.
"I can't believe I modeled at NYFW. OMG! OMG! OMG! It's unbelievable. I'm going to need to watch the runway show about a thousand times before I can believe it."
I flip back a few sheets and stop when I see Luke's name.
"I know it's not a good sign that I'm thinking about him and being so close to him, but I can't help it. Luke is amazing. The way he looks at me, how he listens to me, how he understands me, and his kiss...I can't forget his kiss..."
“Sweetheart?” I hear my mother scream. I wipe away the tears and put the little box under the skirt of some dresses. I get up as fast as I can and walk to the bedroom door.
“Yes?”
“I thought I'd help you in the shower, what do you think? Get rid of that hospital smell.” I accept the idea, which sounds very good.
After a good shower, I put on some pajamas and get to know my room, opening all the drawers, looking at all the makeup, everything. I decide not to go through that box anymore, because I still don't know how to manage everything it represents.
Once again my mother calls me and I believe it's for dinner, but when I get to the living room I find a brunette girl and a guy with red hair.
“Hi?” I nod gracelessly.
“Hi!” they return the greeting a little nervous too.
I ‘know’ who they are. Ashton and Leah. They are in several pictures in my social networks, in my hallway and on the living room furniture.
I watch the brunette with long hair, crack a huge smile. I watch her fingers tightening, like a child trying to control herself. I smile fearfully, but it was enough for her to apologize before squeezing me in a hug.
“I know you don't remember me, but I am your best friend and I am so glad that you are okay.” I look at my mother, who is smiling, and at Ashton, with my eyes wide and patting her on the back.
“Leah, you don't have to suffocate her.” Ashton comments without manner, scratching his forehead.
She walks away gracelessly. I give her a smile, but thank her for the space. Ashton approaches a little fearfully and holds out his hand, respecting my space, but it is apparent that he also wants to give me a hug.
“You can hug me, I don't bite.” I joke, trying to break the tension.
He says nothing more and surrounds me with his arms. Unlike Leah, I manage to return the hug in the right way. His hug takes longer and I feel some tears on my shoulder.
“I thought we were going to lose you.” he squeezes me one more time, before pulling away, drying his tears clumsily.
“You won't get rid of me that easily.” I blink at them both.
“Well, the reason we came here was not just to see you. Of course we were worried to death and everyone wanted to come.” Leah begins.
“But we thought it better not to come all at once so as not to frighten you.” Ashton interrupts quickly. I thank him silently.
“Deep down, we wanted to bring you this.” she hands me a pen drive. “It's not perfect, but we made a powerpoint to explain everything that happened in these three years.” Leah gives a closed smile.
‘You made a power point?” I ask incredulously.
“Of course we did!” Ashton shakes his shoulders. “We hope it helps and that you remember something. Anything at all, any questions, just call.”
“Thank you very much!” I smile in appreciation for both of them.
“Don't you want to stay for dinner?” my mother offers. I look at them expectantly. They both look at each other and give a shrug.
“We don't have an appointment, right? It won't be a problem. The guys will just be really pissed off that they didn't come.” Leah warns Ashton.
“It will be a pleasure to have dinner.” Ashton smiles in appreciation.
Dinner was very quiet, I did most of the talking. They were very curious to know what amnesia was like and how I was feeling and dealing with everything.
“Depending on how things go for you this week, we thought we would have a dinner on Friday. Then if you feel comfortable, of course, you can see everyone again.” Ash suggests.
There is still time until Friday, but just the thought of seeing everyone makes my stomach turn. I know they are my friends and they know me, but I still get nervous. Not to mention that they are famous, I don't know how to deal with these people. Although I am too.
“That's fine, we'll confirm by Friday.” I open a nervous smile. “Huh, Luke didn't want to come?” I question, upset at his absence today.
How am I supposed to get to know and get close to him if he doesn't come?
I watch the two of them look at each other and wrap up the beginning of their answer. In the end, Ashton sighs and answers.
“He is having a hard time absorbing all this. He just needs some time to sort it all out in his head.” Ash shrugs, signaling that it was no big deal.
I understand that it is hard for him. I don't know how I would handle it if I were him, but I'm not going to pretend to be upset that he's not here either, although I can't do anything about it, I'm not going to force him to stay here if he doesn't want to.
“It's really weird having Luke as my boyfriend, you guys as best friends. It's so out of reality. It feels like I'm in a dream and soon I'll wake up.” I comment, playing with the cloth napkin.
“Look, the first time you handled and accepted all of this well. I'm sure you'll manage again.” Leah squeezes my hand on the table.
“So, a powerpoint, hm?” I change the subject not being able to prolong my curiosity any longer. Even though I'm scared, I want to see it.
Leah cheers up again and begins to explain everything very excitedly. With their help we go to the living room and I put the pen drive on the TV, ready to see what they have done. It is strange to think that this small object has all the answers I am looking for. Not to mention the fear of the unknown, in this case, the forgotten one.
“Ok, so this is Michael…” I watch her standing beside the screen, explaining everything to me, with extreme patience and good will. My god, she is an angel.
I look at all my friends and the things we have done. I notice how Ashton was a kind of older brother, overprotective, and Leah was a kind of sister. Always holding hands or holding arms. Or when we were drunk, trying to climb on each other's backs.
They put all the trips we took, my fashion shows and photo shoots, some interviews. It was a great summary. I stare at the screen feeling something strange welling up in me, I see flashes forming in my head, and I begin to force myself to remember.
“Don't skip.” I shout to her, not wanting to lose the flow of memory. “Play that video again.” I ask desperately.
I approach the TV watching Noah, Leah's brother, walking in front of the camera with a bag on his head and complaining that the product was burning. He was bleaching his hair.
" “Why does this shit burn so bad?” I hear Noah shouting from the room, pissed off.
“Because it's bleaching.” I answer, grabbing another cookie from the plate. I sit down on the couch next to Calum, who is very interested in the package of bleach.
“What do you think about me bleaching mine?” he asks, still focused on the package in his hand.
I stare at him for a few minutes, trying to imagine the look. I pout, signaling that it wouldn't look too bad, in my opinion.
“For God's sake, you're not going to do that ridiculous lock of hair again, are you?” Leah shouts from the bathroom.
“It wasn't ridiculous.” He defends himself loudly. “But I really wouldn't do it again.” he comments softly, making me laugh.
“OH MY GOD.” I hear Noah scream. We run into the bathroom to find his white hair, with a few colored dots, just like the ones in the bag.
I cover my mouth in shock. Leah starts to record trying to hold in her laughter, as do I, but we simply can't stand it when Calum reads the name of the pharmacy in Noah's head.
I see him leaning against the doorframe laughing with his hand on his stomach and eyes closed. Miserably, I still try to hold in my laughter, not lasting long and joining Calum, becoming almost breathless.
“Oh man.” he dries his tears, laughing again next."
“Noah didn't want to go out anymore that night. We ordered burritos and stayed at his place. Calum and I spent the whole night laughing about it.” I speak too fast, running over a few words. I replay the scene in my head a few more times still flustered.
They both look at me and Leah starts jumping up and down in celebration. I remembered, I remembered! I start yelling at her, celebrating.
“What's wrong?” my mother comes running from the bedroom.
“I remembered. I remembered Noah with bad hair!” I shout, out of breath. The three of them hug me and again we shout.
#5sos#5 seconds of summer#5sos blurbs#5sos fanfic#5sos fic#5sos imagine#5sos smut#5sosedit#5sosfam#9 years of 5sos#ashton irwin#ashton fletcher irwin#afi#ashton 5sos#calum hood#calum thomas hood#cth#calum 5sos#michael clifford#michael gordon clifford#mgc#michael 5sos#luke hemmings#luke robert hemmings#lrh#luke 5sos#lukey#muke#cashton#malum
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Prince Lindworm: Version Comparison
Over the years, I have managed to find three different versions of King Lindorm—the one that appears in Svend Grundtvig’s Gamle Dansk Minder i Folkemunde, the one that appears in Andrew Lang’s Pink Fairy Book, and the one that appears in the Folio Society’s East of the Sun and West of the Moon. (There is no indication of where this story came from originally or who translated it, so we’re just going to call it the Folio version here.)
I’ve talked a lot before about the origins of this story; the earliest version, Grundtvig’s, is from Denmark. The Folio Society attributes theirs to Asbjørnsen and Moe, in Norway, which we know is incorrect as it doesn’t appear in any other edition of their work. Lang attributes his version to Sweden.
So today, we’re just going to work our way through the three versions and compare/contrast.
They all start the same way. Queen wants baby, queen can’t have baby, old woman tells her how to make it happen. Lang’s version deviates most from the others in the beginning. In the other two versions, the queen encounters the old woman while out on a walk; in Lang’s, the old woman comes to the palace and seeks out the queen specifically to impart her wisdom.
In both Gruntvig’s version and the Folio version, the queen is to eat only one of two differently-colored roses that will grow up overnight under a two-handled cup left in the garden. Very specific, perfectly identical. The lindworm comes because the queen eats both roses.
In Lang’s version, the queen is to take a bath in her room. Two red onions will appear under the bathtub afterwards, and she is to peel and eat both. Her mistake is that she eats the onions without peeling them. (Note that in this version the queen is not given the option to choose the gender of her child.)
Another little deviation in Lang’s version is that the queen apparently doesn’t know she’s given birth to a lindworm? Her waiting woman tosses the lindworm out of the window as soon as it’s born, and the queen doesn’t notice it at all.
Lang and Folio both feature a normal, human prince born after the lindworm. In Gruntvig’s version the lindworm is an only child. Since Gruntvig’s version has no siblings, he approaches the king directly to ask for a bride. In the other two, he waits until the prince goes out to find a bride, and then goes up to him and says, “Hey, I’m your secret brother, and since I’m older, I get to get married first.”
Here, again, Lang’s version deviates significantly. The other lindworms both marry (and eat) two foreign princesses, then a local shepherd’s daughter selected by the king. Lang’s lindworm marries and then eats an unspecified number of slave women before a wicked stepmother offers up her stepdaughter as a bride. Specifically, she tells the king that her stepdaughter would like to marry the lindworm, and the king apparently doesn’t question this? He for some reason finds it believable that a young woman would volunteer to marry a monster who’s already eaten multiple previous wives, without asking for any kind of compensation for her family or anything?
And, okay, Lang is going full German-Cinderella here. After the stepmom screws her over, girl goes to her mom’s grave, where she’s given three nuts. This is what happens in the place of her meeting an old woman and getting instructions in the other two versions.
Lang’s main girl goes through similar basic wedding prep steps to the others, with no indication of where she got the idea from; while the other girls have a tub of lye, tub of milk, whips, and ten gowns/shifts, Lang’s girl has the tube of lye, only seven shifts, and three scrubbing brushes. After they go through the whole take-off-your-shift-take-off-your-skin situation, Lang’s girl just, like, scrubs all the lindworm-iness out of him? She just scrubs until he turns into a dude.
The other two versions, of course, have the much more complex and disgusting transformation sequence of dip whips in lye, whip lindworm, dunk lindworm in milk, take lindworm to the bed, embrace.
The Folio version ends immediately after this, with the girl and the transformed prince living happily ever after. The other two stories continue.
In the second half of Lang’s version, the old king dies, the lindworm becomes king, the lindworm goes to fight in a war, and the girl’s stepmother steals a bunch of letters and tells a bunch of lies that result in the girl and her two young sons fleeing the palace until the lindworm comes to find them. During this time, the girl uses her magic nuts to save a man named Peter.
In the second half of Gruntvig’s version, the old king and the lindworm both go off to war, it’s a character called the Red Knight who switches the letters, and while she and the babies are away, our girl somehow uses her breast milk to help two other men who’ve been transformed into animals? IDK, I don’t have a full English translation yet, but what we do have to work with is seriously weird.
Lang’s version definitely deviates significantly from the others; it has no points in common with Grundtvig’s aside from the most basic plot—barren queen, ignoring food instructions=lindworm, brides eaten, transformation involving shedding/undressing and lye, heroine flees into the woods with children due to mail-tampering, saves someone else before reunion with lindworm.
The Folio version deviates from Grundtvig’s only in that it ends halfway through and includes a second prince.
Today is the first time I’ve read through Lang’s version in several years, at least, and somehow, despite its differences from the others, it feels the least unique? I was definitely first drawn to “Prince Lindworm,” as a child, because despite falling into my much-beloved Enchanted Bridegroom category, it felt very different from any other story I’d read. The beast as a snake-like creature, the brides being eaten, the unsettling transformation sequence—it was all just great. This was the Folio version, that I was reading as a child. But when I first encountered the second half of the story in Grundtvig’s version, it was also delightfully unique and bizarre, even if I can’t fully understand it. The lindworm’s mother—the girl’s mother-in-law, often a villainous figure—is 100% on her side, and the main person to try to help her through what happens next. And the milk situation is just—well, it’s something.
Lang’s version, despite being the same basic story, just feels bland and unoriginal. There’s an evil stepmother, which is just, sort of cliché, you know? The transformation sequence has been cut down and seriously sanitized. And then the situation where he marries an unspecified number of slave women in the place of two princesses—well, I have a number of issues with that.
Firstly, the number three is so often symbolic in fairy tales, and to replace the three total marriages with an unspecified number is lame, but that’s a dumb, nitpicky issue. The marriages to slave women indicate that this is a country that holds slaves, which I don’t love. But my big issue with this is that a significant part of the charm of the other versions is just the absolute, idiotic absurdity of marrying your monster son to a second princess after he eats the first. Like, you know what’s going to happen now—the same thing that happened last time. He’s gonna eat the princess and another powerful king is going to be rightfully angry with you. Marrying him instead to someone who won’t be missed lowers the stakes and raises the rationality in a way that bores me, and also implies that some potential brides are worth less? Like, with the first couple brides as princesses, we know they matter even though we never properly meet them, because their deaths put the threat of war over our heads—which is probably why the king and the lindworm go off to war shortly after the spell is broken in Grundtvig’s version. “A whole bunch of random slave girls died with no consequences and then we met our main character” just seems sort of…cheap.
So! While I did enjoy reading Lang’s version, I don’t think I would have fallen in love with this story if it was the first I encountered. I think the other versions are both more absurd and more meaningful.
Preorder my book based on this story here!
#lindworm#prince lindworm#king lindworm#king lindorm#folklore#fairy tales#fairy tale analysis#svend grundtvig#Andrew Lang
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Imagine saving Amado from a cartel fight & him returning favor later (2/2)
Some smut because otherwise why the hell am I writing this? And unnecessary plot twist (yeah, that’s me.) Read the full thing on AO3.
Things have been quiet for a while. Your work is back to normal, no more late night shenanigan involving guns or stitching up some hot dude with long hair.
Just when you decide to throw those unrealistic thoughts away, the crow drops by. The boring night shift is about to take a turn.
Amado has gone EXTRA. The tall man's wearing a black leather jacket in the middle of the night. Darkness fits him, you have to admit.
"Stop right there."
He's confused, you don't like his fancy new clothes?
"I just need to make sure there's nothing hard that will point at me later."
Amado twirls like some fucking supermodel, approaching you with a evil grin.
"Fair enough," he raises his arms and lets you pin him against the counter.
You frisk him slowly, touching almost everywhere.
Even he's fully clothed, you can feel all the hard muscle on his back, the broad shoulders and narrow hips. And you linger in the front, caressing the abs like you find a new continent. Then your hands are moving dangerously down there.
"If you continue, you might find something hard, sweetheart." Amado warns in a husky voice.
When you finally stop, you are standing face to face in the narrow space behind the counter again. Déjà vu from the night you two first met.
"You look much better." You can't help but stroke his brow, the scar is fading.
"And you look badass." Amado surprises you. You thought he's gonna say stupid shit like "You're cute/pretty."
"It's extremely difficult to find another woman who takes night shifts alone at gas stations in a border city, stays calm af at gunpoint, fools one of the most notorious drug cartels under their noses, and sews up a three-inch wound without blinking an eye. And most importantly, totally flies under the radar."
Sounds like Amado did some background check on you, probably through those thugs in uniform. You would've done the same, like any survivor in this sin city.
"What can I say? The business runs 24x7 and I've gotta meet all kinds of people." You pull him closer, "Are you going to return the favor or more interested in my upbringing?"
"I just want to make sure I'm not messing around with someone else's girl, or beloved sister, or daughter. Who knows." Amado makes a legit point. The desert town is not really a friendly place for single women.
You raise you eyebrows, "So I can't be a badass on my own?"
Hands in the air, the man in black surrenders.
"You don't want to close up first?" Amado gives you a wink. The fucker and his shit-eating smirk fucking turn you on.
"No, business is open all night."
Making out with Amado is the banter you two have, with both of you trying to take the lead. You're all over each other, him cupping your boobs and you kissing his jawline.
You watch Amado's big hand disappear beneath your skirt, letting little satisfactory noise out. Those fat fingers get playful with your undies as he keeps kissing you.
You're already wet. Then a car pulls over outside.
"I think I've got a customer." You quickly adjust your bra and shirt, leaving the man no choice but getting down on his knees behind the counter.
Imagine Amado giving you oral while you serve the customer like nothing's going on. The fucker'd love to tease you with his talented tongue. He's very good at it you're almost losing it.
It's even more difficult than the other night, when you had to pull all theatrical shit in front of drug cartel members with Amado hiding between your thighs.
You lower your hand to grab his long hair, trying to contain the man who's destroying your undies and the last bit of self-control you have.
But Amado's determined. He's been such a sweet distraction. Fuck, it feels so good you're biting your lips hard to contain any inappropriate noise.
As soon as the customer is gone, Amado makes you cum HARD in your undies. Everything is so fucking wet.
Yes, he's that GOOD.
You two move to the stockroom to continue, however, the real business shows up.
"Ignore it. You don't even know who the fuck is coming. Maybe it's an old lady looking for her cat." Amado seems to enjoy the makeout on the broken sofa as much as you do.
"Sorry, I have to take a rain check on this." You know exactly who's coming this time. You can tell from the sound of a different engine.
It takes longer than a normal cashier's job.
You know Amado must be watching from inside when you tend the business, so you're not gonna lie when you return.
"You're huachicoleo?"
"Let's say you're not the only trafficker in this room." Yes, you take illicit fuel from oil thefts occasionally, then resell it at a lower price, but only to a few regulars you trust.
Amado gives a knowing smirk.
"I'm hurt. You never sold me the cheap stolen oil! I'm not one of your regulars?" He's making some exaggerated gestures, it's hilarious.
"Fuck you. This is teeny-tiny compared to your 70 tons business. I have to earn a living when your corrupted police friends steal from the business every fucking month."
"No, no. I'm proud of you. Actually this is better than my business, cuz it's yours, you run the whole thing yourself. You answer to no one. And fuck Pemex, they deserve it."
Amado's laughing but he's not laughing at you. He asks about how you started it, details of the logistics, where to drill and what kind of equipment oil thefts use. He's genuinely interested in your business, which is odd yet somehow you're...glad. Amado's a good listener.
"So I was thinking, about the favor," You're hesitant, "Can you loan me several Ks? I want to buy a second-hand tank truck to store more oil. It's mobile. No one would notice any difference if I park it here at night, and I can move it somewhere else during the day when Pemex tanks arrive."
You can't believe you're negotiating with a narcos boss. And Amado seems amused.
"How about making it an investment? Say I get you the truck money, then I'll have 50% of the proceed."
Amado must be joking, coke is a money-printing business. Why on earth a drug lord would bother with a business only bringing few Ks a month, tops.
"Fuck off." You're poking his chest, teasing, "Why would you do that?"
"So I don't need to come up with stupid excuses like 'returning a favor' to see you. I'll drop by anytime, just 'checking our joint business.' What do you say?" You can tell he's not messing around.
"I say we shouldn't mix business with pleasure. We should keep it straight. You get 20%."
"25%."
"Deal."
That's how a new oil theft cartel was born.
#narcos mexico#narcos imagine#amado carrillo fuentes#imagine amado#idk#this is stupid#i need to work on my other fic
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Weddings and Wisteria Trees
Category: Mild Romantic Fluff
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Characters: Fumikage Tokoyami, Ibara Shiozaki
Additional Tags: Feudal Japan AU
Hey, everyone! Here again with a story for @bnhabookclub‘s Bingo Event, for the prompt “Forced to Get Married.” This is my first time writing an arranged marriage story, so I hope it’s to y’all’s liking! :)
Ibara stared blankly into the curved surface as the mirror as one of her attending ladies brushed her long, trailing strands of summer green hair. The rhythmic, gentle tugging against the roots of her hair would typically be soothing, but on this day of all days, Ibara could not find joy even in the simplest of things. Not even the gentle rustling of the emerald leaves against her window or the sweet scent of the sweet pea perfume that one of the other servants spritzed against her wrists, ankles, and collarbone could bring a smile to Ibara’s face. No, today, Ibara was to marry a man that she had never met.
“My Lady, you look a little pale this morning,” the woman who’d been brushing her hair tutted as she tipped Ibara’s chin up with a few fingers. With the same stony expression, the bride-to-be turned her face to look down at her legs, which were flush with the rose of life as compared to the pure white silk of her slip. “Have you taken ill?”
“No, I am not ill,” she answered quietly. While it would be an excellent excuse to avoid meeting her suitor, it just wouldn’t do. As the daughter of a wealthy merchant and artisan family, Ibara’s sole responsibility was to wed an established man. She had no choice but to fulfill this role, lest she bring great shame upon her family and their name. Regardless of my feelings about it, I must perform this duty. Father and Mother’s business would be ruined if I refused the hand of this man. Ibara would be given several hours before the ceremony to acclimate to her soon-to-be husband. She was grateful at least for that small window of time; she couldn’t imagine walking into the anteroom to wed a complete and total stranger. All she knew about him was that he hailed from a distinguished samurai family.
Her servants knew better than to gossip with Ibara about her impending marriage, so they busied themselves with preparing Ibara’s clothes. She would not don the pristine white bridal kimono until right before the ceremony, but the garment she would wear to the pre-wedding meeting was arguably more stunning. Ibara stood and raised her arms perpendicular to her body so that her servants could slip a kimono of dark green fabric over her figure. White stitching outlined large, fan-like leaves across the material, and the plants were filled in with jade cloth the same shade as Ibara’s magnificent hair.
Her parents said that Ibara was born with green hair because her mother had prayed to the local forest god for fertility; the deity had blessed her, and colored Ibara’s hair as a reminder of its divine blessings. The long, luscious locks marked Ibara’s most striking feature, and its novelty had attracted attention from many notable suitors across the continent. Luckily, Ibara’s parents were gracious enough to choose a groom who was close in age to her. Ibara didn’t know how she would cope with marrying someone twenty years her senior.
“You look radiant, My Lady,” one of her attendants hummed as she straightened the hem of Ibara’s kimono. The royal girl blinked slowly at her reflection in the mirror. Under normal circumstances, Ibara would most certainly agree; the green hues of the fabric accented her emerald eyes and vine-green locks, while her skin provided suitable contrast to the earthy tones.
As Ibara stared at herself in the mirror, the ladies threaded a hairpin wrought from thin gold wire into her hair; a clothed peony bejeweled with topazes and jasper stones adorned the accessory, and light, wispy gold ribbons trailed down from the piece. A servant skillfully wound it through a braided section of her hair to create a regal and tasteful hairstyle. Yes, under normal circumstances, Ibara would find herself quite gorgeous indeed. However, that cold pit of dread and trepidation swallowed any and every positive emotion. The ball of darkness was like a wicked weed, smothering all other flowers of feeling with cold indifference.
Ibara forced a smile on her face as the sliding door to her bedroom opened, and her parents walked in.
“Oh, my dear, you look stunning,” her mother crooned as she approached the eighteen-year-old girl. Ibara politely closed her eyes when her mother leaned in to kiss her lovingly on the cheek. Her parent flashed her a bright smile through the silvery reflection of the mirror. Ibara’s own smile was strained and false. Either her mother didn’t notice, or she ignored it. Ibara’s father moseyed over to grasp her by the upper arms and lean over her shoulders.
“Are you ready, darling?”
“Of course, Father,” Ibara responded smoothly. The lie rolled off her tongue like syrup- with practiced ease. “I am more than ready to do my duty to the family. This marriage will be prosperous for us.” The wealthy merchant smiled widely and patted her shoulders approvingly. Now that the preparations were complete, they swiftly bundled Ibara into a carriage. The wagon featured the height of comfort- minx fur comforters, feather-stuffed pillows, and silk curtains- but Ibara fidgeted endlessly amongst the luxurious items. Nausea spun her belly around, and the jostling of the carriage on the uneven dirt path worsened it. Ibara pushed her head out of the window, hoping the cold air would settle her sickness. It calmed somewhat, but her throat remained tight with unease, making every breath harsh and laborious.
The Tokoyami estate resided in a nearby valley, which belonged to a rich daimyo who made his fortune by maintaining and operating large commercial farms. According to her parents, the Tokoyami family was one of the samurai clans that managed the sprawling collection of farmsteads. The local farmers spoke highly of both the daimyo and the small assortment of samurai that maintained the peace and order. Hence, it relieved Ibara that she wouldn’t be immigrating to a lawless, turbulent region- if the rumors proved right, anyway. The estate was a mere two-hour journey by horse-drawn cart.
Not a long voyage by any means, but it was the longest two hours of Ibara’s life.
Ibara gulped down several breaths of air when the carriage driver opened the door. Though she’d possessed access to the window, it seemed like the air beyond the cart was fresher and crisper. It flooded her lungs with an uplifting cold- only for a few moments. When Ibara’s slippers met the bright green grass, the reality of her situation slammed back down upon her shoulders. Phantom aches of the burden she bore made her back muscles burn and throb. She hardly registered taking her father’s arm and walking down the cobblestone path leading to the mansion. Ibara’s main priority at this point was breathing.
Her lungs seemed none too keen on inflating and providing her body with oxygen. Focusing on breathing appeared to further their disobedience, so instead, she attempted to focus on her surroundings. Shady wisteria trees lined the neat stone pathway; their wispy fronds curled over the lane to create a tunnel-like atmosphere. The feather-like branches ruffled in the breeze, mirroring Ibara’s waves of green hair, which rippled like green water as the wind played the strands like harp strings. The floral fragrance of their creamy purple plumes mingled with the scent of sweet pea still dousing Ibara’s skin. She found the aroma soothing, so her nerves settled just a bit.
They jumped back into high-gear once the house came into view. It was a magnificent, grand structure with an ornate porch stretching around the building, adorned with a white lattice trellis trawling with dark green vines. Through the gap in the porch above the stairs, she could see a sliding door painted with a lovely rendition of crows resting in the branches of an oak tree. Ibara huddled close to her father as they strode up the path. While her parents exuded auras of confidence and poise, anxiety bled from Ibara’s pores like dark, putrid water. When they stepped up onto the portico, the front doors slid open to reveal a dark-haired man and woman wearing regal purple-and-white kimonos.
“Welcome to our home. Please, come inside,” the man said with a regal bow. Ibara pressed against her father’s arm, regarding the noble couple with wide eyes. As the man raised his head, his gaze flickered to her. The deep ruby hue of his irises unsettled Ibara. Ibara likened them to bright red blood, and the image of the liquid leaking from her mangled, dead body suddenly bloomed in her head. The nausea returned full-force, but there was nothing to be done. Her parents quickly ushered her into the abode.
The polished wood beneath Ibara’s feet made not a creak as she hobbled alongside her father. A maid poured five glasses of aromatic ginger tea and distributed them to the families as they sat on cushions around a small coffee table. Her suitor was nowhere to be seen. Ibara wasn’t sure if that relieved or disconcerted her.
“Your reputation proceeds you, My Lady Shiozaki,” the head of the Tokoyami household smiled at Ibara with a respectful dip of his head. “Truly, words of your beauty do you no justice. You are even more splendid than the rumors suggest.” Though Ibara’s tongue was as dry as sandpaper, she forced herself to provide a small word of thanks. “We have much to discuss concerning the wedding ceremony to be performed at dusk,” he continued with a languid wave to her parents. “My son, Fumikage, is much eager to meet you. He is waiting in our garden out back.”
“My attendant shall escort you,” the mother piped up with a serene smile. The maid shuffled forward, bowed to Ibara, and then gestured toward the hallway leading out of the room. “We would like to give you this time to yourselves to get to know each other.”
Ibara knew this meeting was coming, but it did not stop all the starch from dissolving from her knees. She clutched the edge of the coffee-table in a white-knuckled grip as she pushed herself to her feet. Thankfully, the skirt of her kimono hid her wobbling knees. Ibara took a few moments to discreetly gather herself by steadying her breathing and steeling her nerves. It worked only just enough for her to take some tentative steps towards the attendant. The young girl immediately turned and disappeared into the thin hallway leading into the interior of the house. Ibara sucked in a breath and, without looking back at her mother and father, followed the servant.
Sunlight filtered in through the cloth windows to cast the hallway in a bright gold atmosphere. The stripes of light dappled across Ibara’s dark green kimono to dye it the brilliant emerald of her eyes. They walked for about two minutes before they came upon another sliding door. Ibara could hear birdsong and the babbling of window drifting through the thick cloth panes. The servant bowed to her once more.
“This is the entrance to the garden. When the preparations for the ceremony are complete, I will fetch you. Please excuse me,” the maid said, bowing deeper. Ibara acknowledged the young maid with a curt nod. Dismissed, the maid shuffled away down the hall. Ibara sucked in a nervous breath and faced the door. By all rights, it was an ordinary sliding door, but to Ibara, it looked like the entranceway to another dimension. Does it lead to Heaven or Hell? she wondered with an anxious gulp. Her fingers trembled as they slotted into the groove in the smooth wooden frame. The door rattled quietly as she drew it open. Fresh air carrying the aroma of various plants jumped through the gap, and the breeze ruffled the skirt of Ibara’s silk kimono friskily. Ibara opened the door halfway and shyly peered around it.
A garden extended behind the small porch ringing the backside of the structure. A massive wisteria, which dwarfed the specimens lining the path leading up to the house, dominated the back corner of the backyard. Its purple blossoms swayed in the gentle breeze like noiseless windchimes. A rock pathway meandered from the wooden steps around the grassy expanse, trailing around iron-wrought benches and flower patches and a koi pond with a small bubbling waterfall. Songbirds flitted through the grass, pecking at the ground in search of seeds and grubs. Ibara could see no one in her direct line of sight, so she cleared her throat and hesitantly called, “Hello?”
Ibara flinched when she heard the distinct sound of grass crunching underfoot. She used the door to shield the majority of her body as the footsteps approached. Suddenly, the songbirds scattered into the sky with frantic chirps and twitters to disappear into the leaves of the oak leaves looming over the garden wall. Ibara’s eyes widened as a young man strolled into view and squinted directly at her.
He was a handsome fellow; there was no doubt about it. His hair was a deep black like his parents’, shining with a violet tinge in the bright sunlight. It was close-cropped around his neck and ears but fluffy around the top, poofing out at the back not unlike a bird’s fluffy short tail feathers. He wore a cotton yukata of violet accented with lavender and white underlayers. A hand rested on the deep purple hilt of the katana secured to his hips. What captivated Ibara was his eyes, however- like his father’s, they were a deep crimson. They set like hard-cut rubies in his pale face, but their glittering harshness didn’t unsettle Ibara as before. Gleaming intelligence and curiosity shone within those vermillion irises, and Ibara found herself intrigued.
As Fumikage stared at her, Ibara remained huddled behind the door.
“Miss Shiozaki?” he called inquiringly. His voice vibrated with a deep bass, but it carried a light-hearted tone. Ibara’s anxieties began to wane, so she crept out from behind the door to walk out onto the porch. A pink haze appeared on her cheeks as his eyes visibly widened in awe. “F-forgive me,” he stammered after a few seconds of staring and hastily turned away. “I am simply overcome by your beauty…”
“You’re too kind,” Ibara smiled shyly. To be honest, she had not been sure what this son of a prominent samurai would be like; she was relieved to find him courteous and even a bit meek. Curiosity soon began to overtake her hesitations, so she walked closer to the top of the steps leading down to the garden. Fumikage’s gaze flickered to her, and before she could begin walking down the steps, he rushed forward to offer her his hand. “Thank you.” His hand was soft and welcoming as it gently embraced her fingers. He guided her down the steps and, when she regarded him expectantly, brought her hand to his mouth to respectfully kiss the top of her hand.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” he smiled gallantly. Though it was purely customary to address her in such a way, Ibara could detect genuine joy swimming in his bright red irises.
“As am I,” she responded kindly. Fumikage’s gaze slowly trailed to her flowing waves of jade-green hair. When Ibara noticed his captivated stare, she giggled and offered him a swathe of her locks. He began to stammer and sputter refusals, flapping his hands about, but Ibara pushed the chunk of hair forward with a gentle laugh. “I don’t mind. It isn’t every day that you see a woman with green hair, no?” Fumikage gulped audibly but nodded and timidly took the hair in his hands. An awed breath ghosted past his lips as he admired the sheen of the green mane, and his thumb slowly trailed over the smooth strands, as if he appreciated the most beautiful gemstone. The way he drank in the luster of her hair made her cheeks redden further. Under his intense gaze, Ibara felt nothing less than a goddess.
“Simply marvelous… I have never seen anything like it…” Fumikage murmured. His gaze flickered upwards, and his red irises locked with Ibara’s green ones. With a nervous cough, he hastily dropped her hair and straightened back up to maintain some sense of poise. “Miss Shiozaki-”
“Ibara,” she corrected. A red hue blazed over the entirety of his face, and Ibara chuckled at how cute the young man was. “We are to be married today. Please, call me Ibara,” she insisted. He wrung his hands uncertainly for a few seconds.
“R-right then. Ibara,” he nodded, saying her name slowly like he was experimentally rolling it over his tongue. “As such, you may call me Fumikage.” He blushed fiercely when she repeated his name. “A-a-anyway, would you like to stroll with me around the garden?” he asked and offered her his arm. Ibara glanced around the extravagant backyard; it stretched along the entire backside of the manor, with the back wall a small black line in the distance. The stone path wandered through the garden, and its meandering curves would provide a nice long walk indeed. Smiling amiably, Ibara hooked her arms around Fumikage’s. A heat rose to her face when she felt the solid muscle hidden beneath the thick cloth, so she tried to focus on maintaining a friendly aura rather than on indecent thoughts. As she rested her hand on the thick of his arm, he draped his over hers. His touch was gentle and kind.
The walked in tandem along the winding pathway. Ibara esteemed the bamboo water fountain that filled the air with a repetitive, calm tapping as it flowed water into the koi pond. They paused beside the small pool, and Ibara watched the fish swimming along the muddy bottom. They flitted through the roots of the lotuses blooming on the surface in their big green pads, the shadows dappling their red, white, orange, and black multicolored scales. Ibara could barely see her reflection in the clear water and flushed when she noticed Fumikage smiling adoringly at her. After a few more minutes of watching the fish swim, they continued on their way.
“I am told that your mother crafts luxury clothes and accessories, and your father sells them, and this is how your family made your fortune,” Fumikage said after some time strolling down the path. “Did your mother make this?” he asked with a gesture to the ornate hairpin adorning her hair. Ibara raised a hand to touch the cloth-and-wire construction.
“Yes. She made it especially for this meeting.”
“She is very talented. I will have to extend her my compliments,” Fumikage smiled as he appreciated the lavish fixture. “Are you also a seamstress or craftswoman?” Ibara flushed and looked bashfully down at her feet.
“My mother taught me the craft, but I am not nearly as talented. My father says it is unbecoming of someone of my stature, but the servants say my true talent lies in the cultivation of plants…” she admitted meekly. Ibara possessed a great love of plants. From a young age, she had frequented their manor’s herb garden, which the cooks used rather than importing spices. They said that Ibara possessed a “green thumb”- an inherent ability to make plants flourish and thrive. “It is not a very useful talent for a noblewoman…”
“No!” Fumikage interjected, and she peered at him out of the corners of her eyes. He blushed slightly and adjusted his tone to a calmer one. “N-no,” he repeated softly, “I think that is a charming gift. I-if it pleases you,” he stammered with a sweeping gesture to the garden, “you can have leave of this place as you wish. The servants tend it, but if it made you happy, I would have you tend to it as you desire.” Ibara could not hide the eager expression that bloomed over her face.
“Really?!” As she enthusiastically looked around the garden, ideas for improvements sparked in her mind. Fumikage chuckled as he watched her glance around fervently. After a few seconds, she recalled her place and looked down at the hem of her dress in embarrassment. “Ah… Forgive me.”
“Do not ask forgiveness,” he corrected her. His hand twitched once before resting under her chin to tilt her face up slowly. Her eyes widened when they met his ruby irises. “If this place makes you happy, then I am delighted.” His thumb swept once across her cheek in a feather-light touch before his hand dropped back to his side. A bright red tinge appeared on his face, and he cleared his throat gracelessly. “Sh-shall we continue…?” Ibara nodded sagely, and, feeling slightly bold, pressed herself a little closer to Fumikage. If he took notice of her intimate action, he didn’t acknowledge it.
The sun inched across the blazing blue sky as they ambled down the garden path. They discussed many things, including their respective childhoods and interests. Ibara had been surprised to learn that Fumikage was not merely a samurai in training, but also practice. He recounted a harrowing trail of hunting bandits in the nearby mountains for the daimyo, and how his first real battle had earned him a scar on his forearm. He showed it to her. Ibara marveled at the thin white line crossing the otherwise unmarred skin, and gulped when she imagined a sharp blade biting into the flesh of her own forearm. A phantom stinging pain slashed at her limb, and so she clutched it tightly.
“Did it hurt?” she whispered, eye flicking up to his. Amusement danced in his crimson eyes as he chuckled at her.
“Yes, it did hurt,” he chortled. “But I am better for the wound. I lived to fight another day and learned my sword better to prevent it from ever happening again.” Ibara nodded slowly, tracing the thin and unassuming scar with her fingertip. She jerked away when Fumikage flinched, and she wondered if perhaps the area was still sensitive. When she opened her mouth to apologize, he laughed. “That tickled.” She blinked a few times. She smiled with a soft giggle.
~~~~~~~~~~
After the sun had reached the highest point in the sky to beat down upon them, the pair of young nobles reclined under the wisteria tree to partake in its lovely shade. Their shoulders touched as they lounged against the thick trunk, and every subtle movement that made their arms brush sent crackling fire through Ibara’s nerves.
“Your home is truly beautiful,” Ibara sighed contentedly as she watched a few cotton-white butterflies dart through a nearby flowerbed. They perched on the bright blue flowers to suckle at the nectar within. Ibara felt more at ease than she ever had in the splendid garden, even if she was seated beside the man she was to marry in a few hours.
“I am relieved you find this place to your liking.” He was silent for a few seconds, then fidgeted uncomfortably. “To be honest,” he confessed with an awkward scratch at the back of his neck, “I was concerned that you would be unhappy in coming here. I understand that marrying a man you have never met is daunting…” His vermillion eyes flickered to her face, and he flashed her a discomfited smile. “But I hope that you can still find it in yourself to learn to love me…”
“Fumikage,” Ibara whispered in admiration. The boy’s eyes were sad as he stared forlornly at the katana resting against the tree trunk. He is as uneasy about this as I am, she realized. She reached out to grasp one of his hands with both her own. “There is… much I do not know yet about you, just is there is much you don’t know about me,” she admitted with knitted eyebrows and a frown, “and I would be remiss to deny that I am still uncertain.” Fumikage looked at her uncomfortably.
Smiling sweetly, she reached up to run her fingers through his fluffy raven hair, finding it softer than a bird’s down. “I do not know yet what is to become of the two of us in this union, but there is one thing I can say for certain. As we take our vows with the gods as our witnesses, I will mean every word, because I have never met a man as kind and true as you.” He flushed red at her high praise, and he looked down at their adjoined hands. “I came here afraid to meet the man I was to wed. I am not afraid to learn to love you anymore.”
“That relieves me,” Fumikage murmured with a tiny smile. He edged out his thumb to stroke Ibara’s knuckles adoringly. “I am lucky,” he laughed and looked up with a bright smile. “I never imagined that I would marry a woman blessed by a god.” His hand pushed into her waves of green hair to tuck it behind her ear; as it retreated, it came to rest on her cheek, thumb sweeping arcs under her eye. She leaned into his touch, smiling at the peculiar softness of his calloused hand against her face. “I am sure the god looks upon you fondly, being such a generous and honorable woman as you are.”
“You flatter me,” she chuckled. Her eyes grew lidded as Fumikage’s continuous caresses eased her into a sense of security and comfort. There was no lie in his touch; though they had just met, genuine care and love existed in his soft strokes over her skin. Ibara’s eyelashes fluttered demurely as his smile widened.
“You may not want to look at me like that,” he warned spiritedly. “I may do something quite unbecoming of one of my stature.” At the usage of the phrase she had uttered not long ago, Ibara laughed good-naturedly.
“Well,” she smiled invitingly, “I think we have established that I am used to doing things unbecoming of my stature.” His lips curled upward into a smirk. Ibara shifted so that she was facing him fully as his hand pushed further against her cheek. She inhaled deeply in expectation as his face began to enclose on hers. Fumikage’s gaze trained on her lips, which parted slightly in preparation. The tip of his nose brushed against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed so that she could abandon herself in the feeling of their lips melding together.
Ibara released the breath she had been holding in a slow, contented sigh. Fumikage’s lips were soft and supple as they worked against Ibara’s mouth in hesitant, gentle motions. It was a sweet and chaste kiss but not without incredible feeling. When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open, and she regarded him bashfully. He observed her with similar shyness, and he squeezed her hand firmly.
However, before he could say anything, the servant called from the porch. Though the young girl probably couldn’t see them in the dappled shadows of the large wisteria, the two nobles separated a bit and let go of one another hands to avoid any undue scolding. Fumikage shouted back to acknowledge they had heard the servant’s summons before looking at Ibara with a wan smile.
“Are you ready? It seems our parents have agreed on the final preparations.” Four hours ago, a pit of dread would’ve balled up Ibara’s belly, and nausea would’ve tainted her answer; now, after spending this short time with the young samurai, she was remarkably at peace. She stood and brushed the grass bits from the skirt of her kimono, and then breathed in calmly.
“Yes. I am ready,” Ibara nodded and exhaled a deep breath. She cast him a pleasant smile and extended her hand. “Walk in with me?” she requested hopefully. Fumikage raised an eyebrow at her, weighing the options. Their parents would likely disapprove of their closeness; after all, it was improper to be so intimate before one is married. He decided that he didn’t care and grasped her hand, using the other to grip his sword and use it as leverage to push himself up. Ibara flushed when he interlaced their fingers and smiled affectionately at her.
“All right, then. Let’s go.”
The wisteria flowers kissed Ibara’s face and shoulders as she walked through them, almost as if they were offering her their congratulations. The doused her in their floral perfume and deposited their small lavender petals in her long hair. The pond bubbled a little louder as she passed, or so she imagined, like it was celebrating the union to come. Smiling shyly, she rested her head on Fumikage’s shoulder as they approached the porch. He didn’t say anything, but instead leaned his head against hers with a slight nuzzle, threading his raven hairs with her jade ones.
“Do you think they would consent to letting us marry under the wisteria? It’s such a splendid tree.” Fumikage chuckled and nodded his head, making their hairs twist further together.
“I am sure that can be arranged.”
They walked into the house, and so began the first moment of the rest of their hopefully blessed days together…
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
Tag List: @deliathedork @sadistiks @wesparklebitch @simplybakugou
#bnhabookclub#bnhabookclub bingo event#tokobara#tokoyami x ibara#ibara x tokoyami#ibara shiozaki#shiozaki ibara#tokoyami fumikage#fumikage tokoyami#my hero academia#mha#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero#mha fanfic#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfic#bnha fanfiction
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My Review of In/Spectre
How did I get into this anime? Let’s see what my check-list was back when I picked this up during the winter time. Does Crunchyroll have immediate rights to play it? Yes! Do I have one more slot open for weekly showings? Yes! Are you in the mood to hear Mamoru Miyano right now? Always! Let’s do it!
Kotoko Iwanaga is used to the abnormal and out of place situations. When she was 11 years old, she went missing for two weeks. During that time, demons asked her to become their “God of Wisdom”. However, Iwanaga lost her right eye and left leg as a result of this power. Fast-forward approximately 7 years later when she meets a college-aged male named Kuro Sakuragawa. She found a fascination with him, but kept her distance due to him being engaged to another woman named Saki.
But Kuro’s life changed when he and his girlfriend were on vacation and saw a kappa and the situation turned near-deadly. Due to an abnormality with Kuro, whenever it looks like he’s on the verge of death, he comes back to life. Thing is, his girlfriend Saki was absolutely set aback by this development and they wound up breaking up. With the news of Kuro and Saki splitting up, Iwanaga seizes this opportunity to spend more time with this young man as she asks for his assistance with dealing with the supernatural…
And to be her boyfriend!
BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: At the moment, Crunchyroll is the only one with authority to this anime and several weeks after the premier, they gave us an English dub. So far, so good! I’m getting a chance to hear a few of the newer voice actors and even some veterans like Cristina Vee. Now that some time has passed, all of the episodes are finally dubbed after a long hiatus due to the COVID-19 pandemic. As you already know from sentence one Kuro spoke, yes, that is Mamoru Miyano playing another main lead role. Luckily for me, he isn’t spazzy and he isn’t a holy asshole. Next to him, we have Akari Kitou who I’m hearing quite a bit of as of recent. I really enjoyed her performance as this insightful little lady. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.
JAPANESE: *Iwanaga is played by Akari Kitou (known for Aru on Hitoribocchi, Nene on Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun, and Kaho on Blend S)
*Kuro is played by Mamoru Miyano (known for Cilan on Pokemon BW, Light on Death Note, Tamaki on Ouran HSHC, Koutaro on Zombieland Saga, Rin on Free!, Death the Kid on Soul Eater, and Tsukiyama on Tokyo Ghoul)
*Saki is played by Misato Fukuen (known for Georgia on Pokemon BW, Chibiusa on Sailor Moon: Crystal, Iggy on Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Pt. 3, Eruka on Soul Eater, Yami on To Love Ru, and Yin on Darker Than Black)
ENGLISH CAST: *Iwanaga is played by Lizzie Freeman (known for Cardinal on SAO: Alicization and Trish on Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Pt. 5)
*Kuro is played by Brandon Winckler (known for Eugeo on SAO: Alicization and Dale on If It’s for My Daughter…)
*Saki is played by Lauren Landa (known for Kyouko on Madoka Magica, Michiru/Sailor Neptune on Sailor Moon [redub], Annie on Attack on Titan, Juno on Beastars, Xenovia on High School DxD, and Sakuya on SAO)
SHIPPING: Well, let’s see if I can make any sense out of this.
*Iwanaga x Kuro: I guess it was love at first sight for Iwanaga as she seemed to have developed a crush when she first met him at the hospital. And you could tell how disappointed she was when Kuro’s relationship with Saki was growing. Even when Kuro is still in the post-breakup mode, Iwanaga has the balls to ask him to enter a relationship with her in the span of a single episode. And even after the two-year time-skip…I guess they are in a relationship. At least according to Iwanaga they are! It’s just that Kuro is so damned uninterested it’s so hard to tell. I’m not sure if I’m fully on board with this ship. Mostly because of Kuro’s disinterested attitude whenever he’s around his “girlfriend”! Iwanaga is very controlling in this relationship and prone to jealousy when Saki re-enters the picture later in the Steel Lady Nanase arc.
*Kuro x Saki: Yes, Saki was Kuro’s former girlfriend. Actually, it was more than that! They were freakin’ engaged! But because Saki got freaked out by the fact that Kuro could regenerate his body if he gets severely injured, she ended the relationship. Yeah, I can totally see how that would be shocking for anyone to go through. Due to the mystery that Iwanaga and Saki were trying to solve, the romance talks kinda had to be put to the side. It seems as though near the end that Saki has put her feelings of Kuro in the past and seems to have moved on for the most part. Plus when Saki was engaged to Kuro, she felt inferior to ANOTHER past love of Kuro’s. And now we gotta talk about…
*Kuro x Rikka: They’re cousins! BLOOD COUSINS! But Kuro has a special place in his heart for his sickly cousin! I mean, his thoughts of being greeted by Rikka at home compared to his real girlfriend are freakin’ damning. Plus both of these people have the same anomolie courtesy of their fucked up family. I’m not sure after the whole Steel Lady Nanase mess if Kuro’s perception of Rikka has changed for the worse. I just know that there was definitely something between those two. Kuro brings all his girlfriends to meet Rikka only for Rikka to say something like, “she’s not your type”.
ENDING: For the majority of the series, Iwanaga and Kuro have found themselves in the midst of a mystery involving the death of a famous actress. Seems simple enough in an anime like this, an idol (Karin Nanase) dies suddenly by a steel beam to the face and comes back to haunt the world of the living as a ghost (later named Steel Lady Nanase). But it can’t be that simple! There’s gotta be reasons for Steel Lady Nanase’s existence and Iwanaga is gonna figure it out one way or another.
I mean, she knows the real truth. It’s just that someone is pulling the strings behind Steel Lady Nanase still causing havoc. She’s still running amok due to a fan website dedicated to the ghost. And that site has A LOT of traction with fans of all sorts. Add to this mind-fuck, Kuro’s “lovely” cousin Rikka is the administrator for the website. As I’ve mentioned before, she has that immortality power that her cousin possesses as well. And Rikka uses that power to keep things going with Steel Lady Nanase.
Iwanaga went through several scenarios to disprove Steel Lady Nanase’s existence. And all but one of those theories were poked by skeptics and even Rikka who was stalking the forums. It wasn’t until Iwanaga came up with the theory of Nanase meeting a woman who looks exactly like her and that her doppleganger was the one that died at the construction site. Somehow that was the theory millions of fans took as truth and this was how Iwanaga was able to take down Rikka and her fansite.
So everything is gonna go back to somewhat normal. Karin Nanase can rest in peace, the spirits around the area can rest easy without being tormented by a crazy bitch swinging a steel beam, Saki goes back to work as a police officer, Rikka is still lurking around, and we get a cute moment between Iwanaga and Kuro.
This anime started out strong, but once you realize that this Steel Lady Nanase arc was going to be covered in 10 episodes out of a 12 episode series, it kinda leaves this series a little underwhelming. The idea of having one character with the ability to communicate with spirits and another character with an anomolie in his body preventing him from dying seemed really interesting. Especially when you have someone like Iwanaga trying to solve mysteries and coming up with the best case scenario in every case! But that’s just it, we only got two cases in this 12 episode series. The manga still seems pretty new and so I’m hoping to see more development with Iwanaga and Kuro. It’s an okay series, it’s just that I give a hesitant recommendation with the warning that this will drag a bit when we’re stuck in Steel Lady Nanase hell for 10 episodes. In an anime season that was filled to the brim with mystery animes, I actually found myself a little more invested in Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun. But that’s just me! You guys make your own judgments on which mystery anime of 2020 wins your vote.
Final note: The OP is a banger and as for the ED, it’s always a treat whenever Mamoru Miyano is singing!
If you would like to watch In/Spectre, Crunchyroll has all 12 episodes available for streaming in both sub and dub.
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Ever been in one of those situations where you put your trust in the wrong person. Yeah me to. I used to be "friends" with this female who turned out to be TOXIC! She caused so many problems in my life to a point where she would use me to lie for her, watch her brat of a child. When I met my husband back in 2014, the toxic female would try her best to break me and him up. It was early days in our relationship and she would always expect me to drop everything including date night plans to help her out of sticky situations. After seeing the effects of how miserable I was being made to feel, my husband eventually got me to walk away from the toxic female and finally be happy. I felt so much better without being associated with her. We never spoke again, would avoid each other in public etc. Fast for to a few months ago, I was waiting on a bus to work, she approached me trying to use my child as a pawn to win back "friendship" by telling me that my son's nan had passed away, saying I was to unblock her as she missed me. Obviously I didn't unblock her from my socials and the next time I saw my son I asked his uncle how his mum (my son's nan) was and that I hadn't seen her in awhile, he answered saying she is still struggling with the whole pandemic but is much better than before. That cleared that up. The toxic female told me a malicious lie. I mean has she no better things to be getting on with than trying to get me to fall for her BS 🐂💩 again.
My life has improved massively over the years I have been with my husband, we met in 2014, engaged in 2015 & married in 2016. I don't have a big circle of friends and I am okay with that as I would rather surround myself with those who are positive influences to me. Those friends hold a special place in my heart ♥️ I have my 2 best friends who I have been friends with since high school so they are more like Sisters to me.
If anyone feels there are red flags in your life with certain people. Please don't ignore them as you deserve to be happy.
Signs to look out for
1. You feel on-edge around this person, but you still want them to like you. You find yourself writing off most of their questionable behavior as accidental or insensitive, because you’re in constant competition with others for their attention and praise. They don’t seem to care when you leave their side—they can just as easily move on to the next source of energy.
2. They withhold attention and undermine your self-esteem. After first hooking you with praise and flattery, they suddenly become reclusive and uninterested. They make you feel desperate & needy, ensuring that you are always the one to initiate contact or physical intimacy.
3. Plasters your Facebook page with compliments, flattery, songs, and poems. They text you dozens, if not hundreds of times per day. You come to rely on this over-communication as a source of confidence.
4. Quickly declares you their soul mate. And for some reason, you don’t find it creepy. They tell you how much they have in common with you. On the first few dates, you do most of the talking and they just can’t believe how perfect you are for them.
5. Compares you to everyone else in their life. Ex-lovers, friends, family members, and your eventual replacement. When idealizing, they make you feel special by telling you how much better you are than these people. When devaluing, they use these comparisons to hurt you.
6. Lies and excuses. There is always an excuse for everything, even things that don’t require excusing. They make up lies faster than you can question them. They will always blame others—it is never their fault. They spend more time rationalizing their behavior than improving it.
7. No startle response. Total absence of anxiety, fear, and worry where there otherwise should be. They are also very easily bored by the familiar. You write this off as calm and cool, often feeling inferior and over-sensitive because you have normal human emotions.
8. Insults you with a condescending, joking sort of attitude. Smirks when you try to express yourself. Teasing becomes the primary mode of communication in your relationship. They subtly belittle your intelligence and achievements. If you point this out, they call you hypersensitive and crazy.
9. Uses social networking to provoke jealousy and rivalries while maintaining their cover of innocence. They once focused all of their attention on you, but now they post ambiguous videos and statuses to make you doubt your place in their heart. They bait previously denounced exes with old songs and inside jokes. They attend to new activity and ignores yours.
10. You find yourself playing detective. It is never happened in any other relationship, but suddenly you are scrolling back years on their Facebook page and albums. Same with their ex. You are seeking answers to a feeling you cannot quite explain.
11. Surrounds themselves with former lovers and potential mates. Brags that their exes still want to sleep with him/her, but assures you there is nothing to worry about. These people make you feel jealous and give off the perception that your partner is in high-demand.
12. Hyperbolizes emotions while displaying none of them. They make passionate statements like “I have never felt so happy in my life” in a completely robotic voice. It sounds like an alien trying to explain how they imagine human emotions might feel.
13. You are the only one who sees their true colors. Others will think they’re the nicest person in the world, even though they are used for money, resources, and attention. They will not care because he/she strategically distracts them with shallow praise (often done over social networking). Psychopaths are able to maintain superficial friendships far longer than their relationships.
14. Accuses you of emotions that they are intentionally provoking. They will call you jealous after blatantly flirting with their ex over social networking for the world to see. They will call you needy after intentionally ignoring you for three days straight.
15. Cannot put themselves in your shoes, or anyone else’s for that matter. You find yourself desperately trying to explain how they might feel if you were treating them this way, and they just stare at you blankly.
16. You are engaged in constant conversations about their ex. You know them by name, and you know everything about their relationship—at least, your partner’s version of events. The ex becomes one of the most frequent topics of discussion in your relationship.
17. You find yourself explaining the basic elements of human respect to a full-grown man/woman. Normal people understand the fundamental concepts of honesty and kindness. No adult should need to be told how they are making other people feel.
18. Focuses on your mistakes and ignores their own. If they’re two hours late, do not forget that you were once five minutes late to your first date. If you point out their mistakes, they will always be quick to turn the conversation back on you.
19. Suddenly and completely bored by you. Gives you the silent treatment and becomes very annoyed that you seem to be interested in continuing the passionate relationship that they created. You are now a chore to them.
20. The ultimate hypocrite. They have extremely high expectations for fidelity, respect, and adoration. After the idealization phase, they will give none of this back to you. They will cheat, lie, insult, and degrade. But you are expected to remain perfect.
21. Sometimes it seems as though they’ve forgotten who they’re supposed to be around you. They adopt different personas for different people—transforming their entire personality to match various audiences. It is always very eerie when they slip and accidentally use the wrong mask for you. You will start to feel that their personality just does not seem to add up.
22. An unusual amount of “crazy” people in their past. Any ex-partner or friend who did not come crawling back to them will likely be labeled jealous, bipolar, an alcoholic, or some other nasty smear. They will speak about you the same way to their next target.
23. Flatters your deepest insecurities. If you are self-conscious about your looks, they will call you the sexiest person in the world. If you have got a need to entertain, they will say you’re the funniest person they have ever known. They will also mirror your greatest fantasies, playing whatever role is necessary to win your heart.
24. Frequently comments about what you are wearing and how you look. They try to arrange you. You become obsessed with your appearance, noticing flaws that likely don’t even exist. During and after the relationship, you will spend significantly more time in front of the mirror.
25. You fear that any fight could be your last. Normal couples argue to resolve issues, but psychopaths make it clear that negative conversations will jeopardize the relationship, especially ones regarding their behavior. You apologize and forgive quickly, otherwise you know they’ll lose interest in you.
26. Obsessed with humiliating successful, kind, and cheerful people. Delighted by the idea of breaking up friendships and marriages. If you work hard to maintain interpersonal peace in your life, they will make it their mission to uproot all of it.
27. Gaslighting. Blatantly denies their own manipulative behavior and ignores evidence when confronted with it. They will become angry if you attempt to disprove their delusions with facts.
28. They expect you to read their mind. If they stop communicating with you for several days, it’s your fault for not knowing about the plans they never told you about. There will always be a self-victimizing excuse to go along with this.
29. Selfishness and a crippling thirst for attention. They drain the energy from you and consume your entire life. Their demand for adoration is insatiable. You thought you were the only one who could make them happy, but now you feel that anyone with a beating pulse could fit the role. However, the truth is: no one can fill the void of a psychopath’s soul.
30. Your feelings. After a run-in with a psychopath, you will feel insane, exhausted, drained, shocked, suicidal, and empty. You will tear apart your entire life—spending money, ending friendships, and searching for some sort of reason behind it all.
We can find that normal and loving people do not raise any of these flags. After a negative encounter, most survivors face the struggle of hypervigilance: who can really be trusted? Our gauge will swing back and forth for a while, like a volatile pendulum. We all wonder if we have gone absolutely mad for wanting to believe the best in an old friend or a new date, but also feeling sick to the stomach when actually spending time with them.
It is important to develop our intuition, but that is a personal process. The world is mostly full of good people, and we suffer a double punishment if we miss them due to the fear of being hurt again.
People need to set aside some time to get in touch with their feelings, and become comfortable with a balance of awareness and trust. The reflection offers understanding about our emotions. It helps provide understanding for which old relationships need to be refreshed, and which toxic patterns need to be abandoned and replaced by healthier ones.
Society conditions us to ask “does this person like me” instead of exercising critical thinking and asking “do I like this person?”
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Minseok Falling for a Hufflepuff Harry Potter AU
Masterlist
I haven’t finished part 2 just yet, but this draft keeps getting deleted… Enjoy
P.S I changed some things compared to the first version. :D
At the age of 11, Sophia began her new life as a witch and it wasn’t easy. She wouldn’t have believed it if it wasn’t for the fact that she was on a train to a school she had never heard of before. Stuck with a loud mouth named Baekhyun who talked her ear off about his parents’ work in a thing called the Ministry of Magic, a guy who ignored everyone with a book in his hand named Jongdae who was there because his friend’s compartment was full, and a knight in shining armor named Chanyeol. Baekhyun repeatedly compared him to a guy named Cedric Diggory who Sophia knew nothing about, but she shrugged it off and pretended she did.
These guys were different from her. Sure, they were all first years like her, but they adapted so well with just being on a train to a magic school, it worried her. Was she one of the only ones that were raised by non-magic people? Would that make her different? And when asked about her parents, Sophia panicked. To see how they perked up, even Jongdae with his head was still behind the book peeked up for a momentarily glance, in wonder of what her parents did. Did wizards even have doctors and lawyers in their world? Were there wizards who had normal non-magic jobs? If not, well her parents would be the exception.
Jongdae’s eyebrow rose as he looked up from his book, “A doctor and a lawyer?” He scoffed a clear look of disgust in his eyes and she drew back as if a snake was about to attack her, “What kind of wizard would want some muggle job?”
Sophia’s face paled at his words. Had no wizard stepped outside of the Wizarding world?
Baekhyun nudged Jongdae, “Knock it off. Not every wizard stayed away from the muggles, like you oh so gracious purebloods.” There was a tension between the two as Baekhyun spoke, “Look at Harry Potter, a half-blood and a hero of the world. He’s a friend of muggles and wizards.” Jongdae sneered at the remark before opening his book again to ignore the group. Baekhyun eyed him for a moment before he returned his gaze to Sophia. He gave her a smile as he spoke again, “Ignore him. He’s a brat. I’m sure he’d end up in Slytherin with that attitude” his eyes lit up. “What about you? Where do you want to go?”
Sophia shrugged, “I-I haven’t really thought about it.” She knew the conversation had to end. It would only be time before they knew she wasn’t like them. That she had parents with no magic. That she had no idea what was going on… Sophia stifled a fake yawn earning a frown from Chanyeol.
“Hey Baekhyun, right? Maybe you should leave her be for a bit.” Chanyeol turned and smiled at her, “We still have a couple hours before we arrive, you should sleep.”
Sophia nodded as she stretched out on the seat cushion. Being the only girl, the three boys decided to sit on one side so as to not block her in and Sophia was thankful as it gave her time to prepare. She took out her phone, put her headphones in her ears, and rested on the cushion silently pleading with herself to get some sleep.
Luck was on her side, as she was able to lull herself to sleep, but was later awoken by Chanyeol’s gentle shakes. Sophia groaned as she pulled out a headphone. “Hey, we’re close. You need to grab your robes” he smiled before exiting the cabin to buy one last snack from the trolley.
She was rounded up and led by a giant man who called himself Hagrid to boats with the other first years. Sophia ended up in a boat with a girl named Tatiana who had yet to look up from her book, Baekhyun having somehow managed to get on the boat having almost fallen into the lake, a boy named River, and another girl named Dahlia who seemed to stare off into the dark talking about things Sophia had no idea about. Though rather cramped, she was thankful to have Baekhyun with her. He definitely helped lift her fear of being alone even if she did find him rather annoying.
Sophia was in awe as she stared at the castle the moment she saw it. Led by the same giant man with a face full of hair, they ascended to the castle. In the mix of the cluster of first years, she tried to focus on moving in fear of being trampled by the silent crowd. The chatter stopped upon arriving at Hogwarts. Either out of nerves or in shock, Sophia couldn’t tell, but it even had Baekhyun tight-lipped which she couldn’t help but appreciate.
The man led them inside where another man, smaller in size and height, stood. He wore a robe similar to the first years, but a red emblem set it apart from them. He stumbled on the step as he met them a third of the way. He straightened himself straight immediately after as if it never happened, “Welcome to Hogwarts!” He said with excitement. “We’ll-Headmistress said I should be stern about this” he cleared his throat. “Welcome to Hogwarts” he repeated his voice deeper than the first time. He gave a nod as if to approve of his tone. “We will start the start-of-term banquet in a few minutes. Before you take your seats behind this door—umm in the Great Hall I mean that’s what it’s called—Before you sit you will be sorted” his cheeks reddened as he tried to figure out what he needed to say. He pulled out a paper from his robe and shook it, “Of course, that bloody cat had to spill water on my cards.”
“I think that’s Professor Longbottom” River whispered to no one in particular.
A girl giggled, “Him? No way! Professor Longbottom is supposed to be a total hunk not a total loser. I mean he helped THE Harry Potter put an end to the second Wizarding War.”
Sophia’s ears perked. A Wizarding war? They had one of those? This Harry Potter guy had been mentioned several times from the moment she got to Hogwarts Express to this moment. Just who was this guy and why was he so famous?
“—findor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Please wait here a moment and I will retrieve you. The sorting will take place in front of the entire school.” Professor Longbottom scurried through the large doors of the Great Hall.
Sophia nudged Baekhyun, “What was he talking about just now?”
“Our houses! We’re getting sorted in front of the whole school. Exciting” he clapped.
Jongdae snorted, “Oh yea so excited. Unless you’re humiliated by going somewhere like Gryffindor. Especially if you’re a pureblood, right Tatiana?”
Tatiana looked from her book and gave him an exasperated look, “I don’t see why Gryffindor would be bad. I think each house has its own qualities and are each good to be in.”
Jongdae’s lips pressed together in annoyance just as the door opened and the students were led into the Great Hall. Upon entering, gasps echoed through the large room. Floating above them, candles that reminded Sophia of a starry night. Four rows of tables stretched down towards a platform where older people, some of the professors Sophia assumed, sat. One of the boys near her began reciting a history about the hall that has Sophia fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
Professor Longbottom led them between tables that were decorated with blue and green towards the professors. A woman in the center of the staff stood. An aura of authority and power surrounded her. Sophia felt goosebumps as she shuddered under the woman’s intense gaze. Sophia caught a glimpse of Professor Longbottom freeze under the woman’s gaze. He cleared his throat as he took the steps to the platform. Pulling out his wand, his mouth moved, but his words were mute.
“W-Welcome to Hogwarts! We will start–Wait I already said that outside, right?” His eyes strayed to the woman who shot him a disapproving look. He awkwardly pointed at the four legged stool where a raggedy patched up brown hat sat.
Sophia grimaced at the thought of that thing touching her head. How many heads did that thing touch? And how would it “sort” them? Suddenly, the hat moved and Sophia let out a surprised yelp that was concealed by other first years’ gasps. “That thing is moving!” The hat’s mouth began to move and Sophia’s wide eyes only grew as it began to sing. Her hand went to her hair as she tried to understand what she was looking at. Baekhyun touched her shoulder in concern. “Ho-how? Objects don’t just–do that!” Her eyes were wide with fear and bewilderment as she sought for answers.
Jongdae scoffed, “You’re ridiculous. Stop acting like some muggle.”
Crap… She froze for a moment. Just be normal… this is normal– with a deep breath, she straightened up and swallowed harshly. Baekhyun squeezed her shoulder, but she refused to look his way as she fought off the blush of embarrassment. She could see the strands of her teal hair in her face mixing with specks of pink. Sophia brushed the strands back and quickly moved her hood on the robe up to cover her hair catching curious glances by the students around her. Seeing as none of them had their hair randomly change on mood, she didn’t want to stick out more as a freak.
Tatiana jabbed Jongdae with her elbow to silence him as she gave Sophia a quick apology for her friend’s behavior. Jongdae grimaced as he held his sore side, “Bloody Amazonian…” Tatiana rolled her eyes as she watched the hat.
Sophia had to be normal. To the people around her, she was another witch. Someone with parents who were like her. People who were normal wizards in this new world. But the unease she felt suffocated her.
Once her hair returned to its vibrant teal, Sophia’s hood fell back over her shoulders. As the song concluded, Professor Longbottom began to call each first year alphabetically. Sophia studied how each walked up, had the hat placed on their head, and headed towards a table that the hat told was their new home. She watched as Baekhyun approached with a large smile. There wasn’t a nervous aura around him as if he already knew his fate with the hat. The hat belted out Hufflepuff only seconds before it even touched his head and the yellow table cheered loudly as they jumped up from their seats. Baekhyun flashed her a peace sign as he headed towards the table and shook heads with people.
In her head, she followed the alphabet from B to D and as the professor called out the names, her dread grew. “Sophia Finley!” Professor Longbottom shouted.
Sophia sucked in a breath as she headed up. Her heartbeat sounded in her ears as she hesitantly took her seat on the stool. Where would she go? Would she go with Baekhyun, the guy she only just met but already considered her annoying friend? Or would she end up wherever Jongdae goes? As her mind reeled, she didn’t even feel Professor Longbottom place the talking hat on her head. She closed her eyes as the hat hummed while it got comfortable on her head. The hat murmured in her ear as indecisive as ever which only made her sweat bullets. The hat hadn’t been this slow with any student prior, so why now?
Another beat later. “HUFFLEPUFF!” It shouted.
“YEA!” Baehyun’s voice was heard over the roar at the Hufflepuff table.
Sophia’s eyes flew open just as the yellow table stood and cheered. Just as the people before her, she had the hat removed and made her way to the cheering table where she met a boy named Yixing who looked like he could fall asleep at any moment. Baekhyun high fived her before she took her seat right beside him. Sophia couldn’t help but smile at how quickly the table accepted her. Maybe it wouldn’t be too hard here. Maybe she would be able to fit in.
After the ceremony finished the feast began. Chanyeol joined Baekhyun and her in Hufflepuff. Jongdae was sent to Slytherin. Tatiana to Ravenclaw which caused the Slytherin table to boo her until the scary woman Sophia found out was the Headmistress named McGonagall stepped in. Dahlia was also placed in Ravenclaw while River was sent away to Gryffindor much to his disappointment. Along with Chanyeol and Baekhyun, Hufflepuff got another boy named Hyunwoo and twin girls Diana and Samantha.
Sophia watched as her new classmates talked among each other while she ate silently. Baekhyun was a chatterbox, just as he was on the train. He chatted with all the housemates around them. She looked at the array of food, all looked great, but her appetite was nonexistent. Maybe it was the nerves.
“You okay?” Her eyes glanced up to see Yixing across her with a soft yet sleepy smile. “You don’t have to be nervous, yea? Everyone here is pretty nice.” He let out a yawn as he sat up straighter.
She gave a nod as Yixing reached out and handed her a roll. “It’s just overwhelming–I nev–” She paused. “Never mind. Maybe I’m just tired.” She stuffed the roll in her mouth. Maybe eating would help. At least it can keep her too preoccupied from slipping up about herself.
Yixing wore a knowing look, but whatever he thought, he didn’t seem to voice, “Yea, I’m sure it’s exhaustion.”
Sophia met her roommates, Samantha, Diana, and Hailey who was a year older. Their things were already in their room when they arrived and Hailey went over some quick house rules that their prefect didn’t touch on. However, after the casual greetings, Sophia needed to escape. She threw her wand in her nightstand. Something she had been too scared to hold in case she accidentally broke it. She made an excuse about going to the common room despite her roommates' worried protests.
She made an easy escape to the entrance and slipped out of the Hufflepuff house. She didn’t wear a robe as she flung it off her when she entered the bedroom. She wore her favorite pastel yellow ripped skinny jeans, which now felt ironic to her due to her house colors, and a white tank top under her black cardigan. As she walked, the teal hair she managed to maintain began to fade white. Her footsteps, at first slow, grew louder as she raced down empty corridors. Her breath twisted in her lungs out of fear or from the strenuous activity, she couldn’t say. She just knew she needed out. She shoved open a wooden door feeling a pinch in her wrist as the door sprung open with a thud. Outside air rushed her and Sophia sucked it in with a shaky gasp. Her legs stopped her as she faced out to a courtyard. Her eyes tried to focus on the things around her as she stumbled into the courtyard, trying to focus--to ground herself in the present. The ground shook, or maybe it was her… She looked at the blur of the trees before her vision was glossed over with tears.
“Hey!” A pair of hands grasped her shoulders and held her steady, “Look around… Find five things you can see.” Her voice came out in a rasped gasp. “List them out loud, okay? Take a deep breath and look.”
The stranger’s voice gave her a sense of safety. Her eyes looked out at the courtyard as she tried to focus, “Trees… a fountain… grass” as she spoke, the pair of hands helped her up on her feet and led her to the fountain. She looked up to the sky, “a full moon and stars… lots of stars.”
“Okay-good. Now, four things you can touch.” Her hand touched the cold stone of the fountain as she listed it and the water and continued with a bracelet and the stranger’s arm. “Are you feeling better or should I continue?” He asked hesitantly.
Sophia shook her head, “I think I’m okay.” She heard the boy mutter a word before he held out his hand with a glass of water. “Thanks” she whispered as she took it from his hand and took a gulp. She turned her head upward to see the boy who wore a robe with a blue emblem that glowed in the moonlight.
“You must be a first year,” he stated.
Sophia let out a scoff, “And you must be Einstein or maybe a Sherlock.”
He couldn’t help but smile, “You may have meant that as an insult, but I take pride in being compared to those geniuses.” Sophia let out a giggle before taking another sip of water. “So” his smile fell as he eyed her, “What are you doing out here this late? I’m sure even your prefects told you that wondering after curfew is a big no-no.”
A shadow drew over Sophia’s face as she looked down at the glass in her hand. Her fingers twitched under the pressure she used to hold the glass in her hands. “I don’t belong here… I must have gotten that letter by mistake.” The tears began to form in her eyes and the boy’s eyes widened.
“Wait--look” he awkwardly rubbed his forehead, “It wasn’t like I was going to snitch, so you don’t need to cry…” his words did nothing to slow the tears that descended her cheeks once more. “Bloody hell--I-” he fumbled in his robe before he shoved a handkerchief towards her. “I really don’t know how to deal with people who cry. So here. Once you’re calm, we can talk.” He looked around at their surroundings, “We should be fine here as long as Peeves doesn’t try to cause us trouble.” Sophia took the handkerchief and pressed it to her face as she tried to calm her sobs once more.
Once, she was calm, Sophia talked--the words spilled from her lips before she even had a moment to think of what she was saying. All her troubles were thrown out in front of the unnamed boy. He sat there nodding periodically as she got emotional again. He was patient with her as he let her finish spilling all her secrets.
Then there was silence. Sophia had to look up just to make sure he was still beside her. He was staring off at the full moon and she found herself following his action. “To put your mind at ease, statistically, 20% of our world is made up of muggleborns. And the other 80 can be divided in half with half-bloods, like myself, and purebloods--though I’m sure they’d say they are the majority.”
“Half bloods?”
He nodded as his eyes remained on the stars, “Half muggle half wizard. My mom’s a witch and my dad is a muggle--no magic. He really finds the whole thing crazy, but he likes it because he doesn’t have to do chores around the house.” Sophia let a laugh escape her as she thought about the scenario. “Even so, the whole being a muggleborn thing is a judgement held by Slytherins. The whole house has a bad reputation- they’ll boast about their pureblood status all day as if their relatives weren’t part of the--” he stopped himself and cleared his throat, “Regardless of what the Jongdae kid said, you shouldn’t be too upset with who you are. There are people who understand how you feel better than I do. Talk to your housemates, they’re your family away from home. They’ll be more than happy to help you learn about this new addition to your life.” He stood and met her eyes at last, “Since you’re in Hufflepuff, you should talk to my friend, Yixing. He’s in your house and he’s a muggleborn. He can definitely help you out.”
“Wait--how’d you know what house I’m in?”
“You’re Sophia Finley, yea? That’s what Professor Longbottom said before you went up.”
“Right…” She let out an awkward chuckle as she got up. She dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief as her hand combed through her now blue hair. “This is all too much. Two months ago, I was normal. Going back to a private school with my friends and now I’m some witch? Objects move on their own, pictures talk, and ghosts are very much real and some are teachers? And my parents--how aren’t they magical, but I am-”
The boy pressed his hand against her mouth as he caught sight of her deep blue hair turning a slight teal under the moon’s gaze. “Don’t.” He waited a second as the teal retreated again before he pulled away, “Sorry, it’s just you were about to get yourself worked up again. You should get to your dorm, I’m sure the head girl will do a check soon. A good night’s sleep will help with the stress too.”
As the boy turned to leave, Sophia’s hand shot out and grabbed the sleeve of his robe, “Wait! I don’t know how to get bac--I’m sorry” she began to apologize when a flash of annoyance pass his face. “I’ll just look, you did a lot already.”
He sighed and held up a hand to stop her, “It’s fine. It’s fine… Come on. I know where it is.” He muttered under his breath and began to walk with Sophia fast on his heels.
Sophia hadn’t realized how far she had ran until the boy led her all the way back to her house entrance. “I don’t know the password to your house, but I’m sure you can figure out what to do from here, yea?” She nodded. “Good. Sleep well.”
He turned to leave. “Wait!” She watched him pause, “What’s your name?”
“It’s Minseok I’m in Ravenclaw” he flashed her a smile, “I’ll see you around I’m sure. Hopefully not running around late at night or crying.” He held up a hand in an attempt of a wave as he headed towards his destination, “Oh, and keep the handkerchief.”
Just as he vanished from her view, the door to the dorm opened and revealed an alert and very worried Yixing, “There you are, Sophia. I was just about to go looking for yo--Didn’t you have teal hair earlier?”
His question went unanswered as he moved aside for her to enter. She gave him a small smile as she stepped inside. Upon entering, someone jumped on her, “You’re okay!” She noticed it was Baekhyun who clung to her. “When your roommates said you were coming in here, we got worried when we didn’t see you.” He paused, “And when did you dye your hair green? Don’t get me wrong, it looks great, but still?”
“Who’s we?” She asked in confusion. Baekhyun let her go and pointed back to Chanyeol and her roommates who shot off the couches upon seeing her.
Hailey was the first to approach her with a relieved smile, “Where did you go? I almost went to the head girl to look for you.”
Sophia pressed her lips together as her fists clenched, earning questioning looks from her house mates, “I got scared…”
“Of what, silly? First day jitters?” Hailey asked as she reached out to grab her hands.
Sophia’s eyes watered as a chorus of gasps sounded. She could see her hair had once more shifted blue. “There’s something I need to tell you…” Baekhyun and Hailey hurried Sophia to the couches as Yixing slowly walked behind them. They sat her down just as she began to cry again, “I’m not like you guys. I wasn’t born knowing I’m a witch. My parents aren’t like this. They’re normal people…” She gulped, “I don’t know anything about magic or this world… I’m ju-I don’t belong here.”
The group was quiet as they absorbed her words. Yixing let out a muted chuckled, “You have every right to be here like the rest of us. I’m a muggle born, but my friends taught me about this part of the world.”
Samantha nodded, “Yea, for real. Mom’s a muggle dad’s a wizard. She had a bit of a shock when she found out.”
“Passed out when she saw our dad wave his wand to get some last minute chores done she did.” Diana grinned widely.
Yixing chuckled along with the others as he pressed his fist to his lips, “Don’t worry about fitting in. You’re in one of the best houses when it comes to loyalty and friendship. We’re kind of known for it–”
“And we’re exceptionally good finders!” Hailey added.
Baekhyun took Sophia’s hand, “We’ll teach you everything you need to know. And, if you want to keep this a secret, we won’t tell a soul, right guys?” There was a chorus of agreement.
Sophia smiled softly at the group, “Thanks…”
“Now tell me” Hailey threw herself on the couch beside Sophia as she reached out to touch her hair, “How do you change your hair without a spell and how isn’t it dying? I need your secret!”
Sophia pulled up the ends of her now light green hair and shrugged, “No clue. It’s never changed this much in a day. Maybe once a day or twice, but not this often… I’ve been able to do it since I was a baby apparently. It kind of changes when I’m feeling a really strong emotion.” Hailey’s eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at Sophia’s hair in awe.
Yixing let out a yawn, “Yes, well, it’s getting late. We got class in the morning, so I think we should get some sleep.”
Hailey scoffed, “You’re always tired, but I guess you have a point. Night guys!” She stood with the twins, “You coming, Sophia?” The gang looked back at her waiting for what she would do next.
Sophia nodded as she stood and followed the girls back to the dorm room and they prepared for bed. Sophia situated herself in bed as she thought about Minseok and she couldn’t help but smile to herself. She turned in her bed thinking of how she could thank him before she succumbed to sleep.[Continued]
-Moodboard and writing by: Squirrelly831
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Angels Mom
Rhys goes to her buddy Angels house for a college project Only to find out that her buddy's mom is not only a superstar But the superstar Rhys has been idolizing for years
(nsfw)
pls accept this hot garbage
“The teacher is such a dick!”
The brunette kicks over a small trash can in anger, 2 smaller figures following behind her in her warpath.
“Let's be fair Rhys, we do, do every other project or assignment together. It's reasonable for them to separate us.” Vana, bless her tiny heart, speaks sense.
Behind Vana was another smaller, mousier girl who followed with stacks of sketchbooks pressed to her chest.
“I’m sorry you can't work with your friend Rhys, but, I’m sure we can do alright on this project together.”
Rhys’ anger melts away. Now feeling like a complete jackass for being so unwelcoming to their other friend.
“Oh damn, no, sorry Angel, it's not that, I love hanging out with you, it's just. UGH, that guy is such a fucking dick.”
“It was pretty unnecessary to put you guys on the spot like that.”
“And make it seem like we don't have any other friends. What an ass!” Rhys stomps a little further ahead. “Anyways, no sense stewing about it. We should start planning out a schedule and stuff. Do you want to come to our dorm? Get a head start on everything?”
“Oh! Definitely, uh, but my mom is probably preparing dinner right now. If you'd like, I’m sure she’ll make enough for another person. If you don't mind coming over.”
Rhys’ face lit up at the promise of a home-cooked meal in lieu of whatever microwaveable shit she and Vana had in their dingy little dorm room.
“Oh hell yeah, are you on your way now?” Angel nods and Rhys turns to Vana. “Guess I’ll see you later tonite bro. Remember, Project Runways on tonite and I swear to God-”
“I won't tape over your stupid show again, it happened once ok!” Rhys chortles and waves her off and follows the other away.
“Ah, I don't have a car, we live pretty close by. That's ok?”
“Oh totally, good cardio or whatever. But like, wow? This neighborhood is like, ivy league houses. That must be like a small fortune, I didn't know you came from such rich blood.” Rhys jests.
Angel giggles. “I guess heh. Ma worked pretty hard to get where she is.”
“You don't say? Now that I think about it, this is the first I’ve heard you say anything about your family before.”
Angel stops and blinks owlishly at her friend.
“I haven't? Huh. I guess it never came up. I don't think I know much about your or Vanas family either.” Rhys nods in agreement. “In any case, since my mom is gonna be around I should let you know that she can be, a, well, a little eccentric.”
“Eccentric?”
“Bitchy.”
Rhys chokes on a sudden burst of laughter at her friend’s blatant rip on her own mom.
“It's true! I mean, according to a lot of guests we have had. She can be kind of abrasive, blunt. She has like no filter.”
Rhys smiles and turns to focus on the neighborhood. She holds back a gasp. They had wandered into the really, really nice part of town. Borderline mansions painted burgundy and trimmed with gold surrounded them. Bentley's and Mercedes parked delicately on gilded brick runways leading down to the road. Not only were these the people who went to their college, but these were also the people that could own the college if they pleased. The ones who did go to their college brown-nosed and bought their way in by the looks of it. Compared to Rhys and Vana who barely made it in by the skin of their teeth and several scholarships.
“Oh man, I was, I was kidding about the whole rich blood thing. You, you guys are like, loaded loaded.”
Angel deflates.
“I guess so, does that change things?”
“No no no! I didn't mean anything by it, it doesn't change anything at all. It's just, like, people that come from places like this aren't as humble and kind as you.”
Angel smiles wide and flushes under the compliment.
They stop at the biggest and gaudiest estate in the neighborhood. The mansion is hideous. It was yellow, trimmed with black, and topped off with both silver and gold accents. Even the gate to the driveway was overly ornate and encrusted with what Rhys hoped to god wasn't actual diamonds. The whole place exuded ‘fuck you’ money. Why else would go this much overboard unless you wanted people to know how much better they were than you? The disgusting palette tells you that they also didn't give a shit what you thought.
“Dear God,” She cocks her head, pleading with her eyes towards her friend. There's no way, there's no way she lives here. “This loaded?” Her voice strains in disbelief.
Angel grimaces and nods.
“It's bright yellow.”
“I know, as I said. She's eccentric.” She turns and pushes a button on a large porcelain keypad attached to the gate.
“Hello?” A burly deep voice answers.
“Wilhelm! Hi! It's Angel, we got out early today, I have a friend with me. Can you let us in?”
“A guest? Does your mom know?” Angel pouts and bristles.
“Well, no, but she's here to collaborate with me on a project for school, cmon.”
“Right, right. I'll be right out.”
“Your dad?” Angel cringes.
“Ew, no, Wilhelm is a family friend. He works as a sort of overall maintenance, security, assistant sort of guy.”
“Fancy.”
A moment later a big hulking statue of a man comes out from the garage on the far side of the house. Way taller than any dude Rhys had ever seen, covered in grease, and the bone structure that looked like it had been chiseled out of stone. He only appears more hulking as he approaches the gate. A shine catches her eye. They both were missing an arm. They share a small look of admiration towards each other's prosthetic, a silent camaraderie.
“Hey, Angel. How was class today?”
“It was alright, this is Rhys, the one I mentioned a while ago.” Wilhelm grunts in acknowledgment.
“Welcome to the Lawrence home, Rhys.” He greets as he opens the gate just enough to let the pair in.
“That guy is terrifying,” Rhys whispers as soon as they're out of earshot.
“Wilhelm? Oh, he’s a big ol sweetheart, once you get to know him. He’s not the one you need to worry about.” Angel carefully opens the door, closing it behind Rhys to make no sound.
“Angel?” A familiar-sounding husky woman voice calls out and Angel curses under her breath.
“Yeah, it's me Ma. I got a friend with me. Is that gonna be alright?”
“Of course baby,”
Then, sidling around the corner of the open dining room was the last person Rhys had ever expected to see in her lifetime. Hand on her hip, standing in the ray of sun, haloed like a golden goddess, was Rhys’ childhood-adulthood idol.
Jacqueline Lawrence.
An actress a long time in the making, recently made CEO some years ago of her own studio company. Not only that, but before her acting days she was a prodigy in the tech department, making her not only gorgeous but a genius beyond her years.
This woman bit and kicked her way to the top, embedded herself on the silver screen to be remembered and loved for generations to come. Adored and wanted by millions, billions even.
And she was Angel’s goddamn mother.
Rhys, knew, as a fan, that Jaq had a child, but it was always hush hush.
It was Angel.
Dear God
“Well, who’s this then?”
The silver fox approaches the duo, each move, each step, exuding confidence and power. Rhys nearly choked. She was floored, flabbergasted. This couldn't be real. She's never dreamed of being this close to this idol. Even at events she couldn't get this close, couldn't even get within arms reach. Yet here she was, even closer than arms reach. If Rhys reached out she could touch her. She briefly wonders if she’d recognize Rhys from all the events, and kind of hopes that she doesn't. She doesn't want to explain to her dear, dear friend that she's dreamed of meeting her mother since before she was even born.
“I’m, I’m, uh,” Rhys tries and fails to clear her throat. “R-Rhys, my name is Rhys. Ma’am”
Jacqueline bears her teeth in a wolfish grin.
“And what are you in school for huh, Rhysie?”
Rhys feels a cold sweat run down her spine.
“Coding and mechanical engineering ma’am.” Rhys mentally high fives herself for not stuttering, then again when she sees the appeased look on the actress’s face.
“Oh yeah? Did some coding myself back in the day. Little bit before I met Wilhelm. Kind of miss it. Maybe you can catch me up on all the new and improved bits, ey kiddo?” She winks and Rhys’ knees nearly crumple.
“I, I would be honored to miss.” Jaq chuckles and claps Rhys on the shoulder.
“Dear Christ this chick is more skittish than you are Angel!. It's freakin precious! Goodness, gracious. She's like a terrified mouse.”
“I'm just a big fan of your work.”
“Oh?” Jaq grins, and grips Rhys’ shoulder a smidge tighter which causes her to shiver, a reaction misinterpreted.
“Hey, kid, relax a little, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. You guys do whatever you need to do, lemme know if you need anything ok?” Jaq then turns to preen her daughter, pinching her cheeks comically before leaving.
The sharp turn throws long tufts of hair in their faces, and Rhys swears she could smell the overpriced conditioner she uses in her wake. She saunters, downright saunters off to where she emerged from and out of sight. The moment she's out of sight Rhys goes to throttle her small friend.
“Hey, Angel, quick question. Why. The. Fuck. Did you not tell me your mom is the goddamn Jacqueline Lawrence!?”
“I, I didn't think it was worth mentioning. I mean, she hasn't been on screen for a good while. Should I have said something?” Angel implores, looking up at Rhys with her big crystally eyes.
How she managed to elude Rhys’ obsession with her mother was astounding. At the same time, she's a bit glad though. There's a chance she wouldn't have invited her over otherwise.
“Just, surprised. Like, really surprised. She's famous, not to mention powerful. Like, make people disappear kind of powerful.”
“Oh, when you put it like that I can see why it could be a little alarming. She's just, never made it out to be a big thing, give me a sort of normal childhood and whatnot.”
“It's ok, crazy. You guys don't even look that much alike.” Angel giggles. “And I was honest back there, I am like a huge freaking fan. I kind of wished you invited me over sooner hehe.”
“Oh? So you can drool all over my mom?”
“No! No no no no, I wouldn't, I would never, I would still hang out with you! That wouldn’t change!”
Angel laughs loudly and gives Rhys a very incredulous look. For a second she could very much see the resemblance of her mother in her. She sets down her stuff and motions for Rhys to follow.
“I’m serious Angel, I do love hanging out with you. She's, she's just, she's my idol.” Angel gives her another dramatically tuned flat look.
“Mhhm, whatever you say, Rhys. You want to set up and get started, I’m going to go take a quick shower ok? Still got art 2’s lesson all over my skin and it's starting to get itchy.”
“Yeah, of course, I’ll sketch out some ideas and stuff.”
“Oh, also, don't be a spaz and weird my mom out.” Rhys mocks offense before flipping the bird at the giggling punk.
Rhys makes herself comfortable in the expansive living room. She makes a little setup, a little Rhys area for herself, to start working. She was so busy fucking around with various weird codes on her laptop that she didn’t notice the encroaching presence coming into her area.
“Quite the setup.” Rhys jumps a foot in the air from where she was sitting
Jacqueline laughs obnoxiously loud and plops across the other in a large lounge chair. She lazily swirls a glass of what Rhys assumes is whiskey in one hand, the other playing idly with the armchair. Rhys’s eyes bulge out of her eyes when she takes in Jacqueline's lounging attire. The shirt. The shirt was silk, buttoned-down to just above her navel, it was thin, white, and translucent. Quite translucent. It barely covered her breasts. She could see the caramel tan of her skin through the milky white. A living wet dream if Rhys ever saw one.
“Looking a little flustered there, kiddo. What’s wrong?~”
Jacqueline’s voice was dripping with accusation. It sent shivers racing up and down Rhys’ spine.
“It's, well, I’m a huge fan. And, it’s just, being near you, It’s crazy for me.” Rhys smiles weakly.
Jacqueline’s expression sours and her voice hardens.
“Is that the reason you hanging around my Angel?”
“Oh! Oh no no no no! Not at all. She, she never mentioned that you were her mother until today. We’re good friends. She just doesn’t talk that much about herself.”
Jacqueline smiles something bright and genuine. Though it’s their first meeting, Rhys feels like she’s seeing something rare and sacred.
“That’s good to hear.” She whispers to herself before chuckling low. The chuckles crescendo into full-blown laughter. “Oh man though, your face. Priceless. People, I’m used to them being antsy, but oh boy do you take the cake. Are you always such a spaztastic disaster?”
“No, well, it’s, you’re my idol. I know that must sound crazy. I’ve followed all your works since you’ve come onto the scene. For years I’ve tried my best to be as confident and stunning as you. I'm sorry. This sounds so cringy doesn't it?"
Already arched eyebrows arch higher.
“All my works huh?”
“Yeah?” Rhys swallows thickly. Jacqueline’s grin grows feral.
“Even the ones from my old coding days?”
Rhys’s eyes go saucer wide and her face drains of color.
So...so that’s why Wilhelm looked familiar to her.
“I..I don’t know wha-.” Jacqueline sits up straight, looking like the cat that got the canary.
“Oh my God! You have!” Jacqueline’s teeth exposed, looking Chesire-like, pure giddiness written all over her. “You’ve seen my pornos holy shit!”
“N-no, I, I mean, I-” Rhys wants to hide.
To run, to die, something to get away from this nightmare. Her first actual meeting with her idol AND her friend’s sister, for it to end up like this, there’s no coming back. She felt sick and buried her face into her hands for some solace.
“Aww, no need to be embarrassed. I was quite the bombshell back then, well, I mean, I still am now, you get what I mean. I’ve always been hot as hell. I’m impressed though. Thought I scrubbed every trace of those bad boys. Made sure none of them would see the light of day. You must have done some hard as hell digging to find those relics.
“They, uh, they were...I paid a lot to get some of them.” Rhys says meekly and confused.
“Holy shit, you serious?”
“To be fair, I didn’t know what was on the tapes when I bought them, I was under the impression they were old exclusives.”
“So what then? You only watched a bit?”
Rhys remains frozen and silent.
“Holy shit.” Jaq leans forward into Rhys space. “You watched all of them didn’t ya?” Rhys bites her lip nervously. Jaq gets even closer. “Did ya get off on them Rhysie?” When Rhys doesn’t answer Jaq continues. “Did you touch yourself?”
Jaq whispers it, with almost reverence. Joy in her voice, like a highschooler finding out her friend's crush. She’s not mad, not angry, not anything like Rhys imagined. She’s teasing her.
Rhys’ breath stills and clumps in her throat and chest. She’s on the border of panic and..arousal? She’s not quite sure. The cold sweat returns with a vengeance.
The silence drags on too long for Rhys’ liking, the way it lingers proving Jaq right about her assumptions.
“Ooo, Rhysie, Rhysie. Your silence speaks volumes.” She leans back, satisfied. Her legs spread wide, authority exudes from her broad form. Her aura reeks of smugness. “How would your friend react if she knew you got off to her mom, hm? That you beat off to videos of her mother getting pounded, huh?”
Panic
Jaq was mad. She deemed her an unfit friend. That or she was disgusted with her.
“God, you’re precious. I can smell your fear from over here. It's been a while since I found anyone this amusing.”
“W-...Really?” Confused again, Rhys chokes out a small reply.
Something flickers in Jaqs eyes, the tiniest bit. Something mischievous. She arches her back, shifts the smallest amount so her shirt falls a little more to the side. Rhys feels like her mind is melting. What the fuck is going on?
“Hm? Uh, yeah, you’re cute darling. Charming, in your own spazzy way. Own it. There’s nothing more dull and irritating than a dumb hot chick.”
“Huh? You, you think I’m cute?”
“Yeah I do, I don’t go around blowing smoke up people's asses unless they can back it up. You’re attractive. Hell, if you put some more work into it you could get heads spinning.”
“You think I’m hot?” Rhys is both stunned and highly incredulous.
“Not only am I saying you’re hot, but I’m also saying you’re sexy. Listen, Honey,” Jacqueline puts a foot on Rhys’s thigh, taking her by surprise. “I’m saying a whole lot more than that.” Jaq finally shrugs off the rest of the shirt, exposing herself to the other woman.
Rhys’s mouth is both dry and wet. If that’s even possible.
“So listen. Mama here hasn’t had any fun as of late. Would you like to change that for me Rhysie?~”
“But, but, what about Angel?” The protest felt weak even coming out of her mouth as she leaned against the foot and towards the woman.
“It’s pretty scummy of me ain’t it?” Jacqueline grins wickedly. “You can say no Cupcake...Just so you know, regardless of what she says, her showers always take half an hour or more. She wouldn’t catch us.”
“We...We shouldn’t.” Rhys has to force the words out.
“Ohhh, but when will you get the chance again?” She lazily draws a line across her chest down to the hem of her pants.
That was the straw to the camel's back for little ol Rhys. The brunette throws away the rest of her inhibitions and lurches at the woman. She shoves her face eagerly between the star’s breasts and grabs them by the handfuls. Jacqueline laughs at Rhys’s enthusiasm and tangles her hand in the silky brown hair. Rhys moans at the little tugs she's given as she sucks and licks the others tits.
“Ooh, hehehe. That didn’t take a lot of convincing did it, huh?”
Rhys doesn’t respond to the jab, just grunts as she licks a nipple into her mouth. Jacqueline purrs and tightens her grip in Rhys’s hair. Rhys whimpers and opens her mouth to moan, drooling onto Jaqs chest.
“You’re a sloppy little bitch yknow that?” Rhys whines against Jacqueline’s warm flesh. She rises on her knees to further bury her flushed face away. “Ohoho. Sounds like somebody enjoys a little demeaning.~”
Rhys looks up at the older woman with big glossy mismatched eyes. Embarrassment etched hard unto her young features.
“I-I-”
“Shh doll, I ain’t judgin.” Jaq waves dismissively and peers down at the other. “Besides, you’ve seen all the crazy shit I got into and got off to. No need to be coy.”
Her hand yanks Rhys head back with a jolt. Jacqueline leans in and kisses the center of Rhys’s throat and whispers. “Let go Babydoll. Go on and tell me what you want.
Rhys’s breath comes out in loud broken gasps.
“I wanna...I wanna taste you. Want to make you feel good.” Rhys manages to get through harsh staccato breaths.
“Oh? Fan of carpet munching are ya?”
Jaq leans back and spreads her thighs to accommodate the other. She waves her hand in a gesture to give Rhys the go-ahead. The brunette tentatively grasps powerful thighs. She takes a moment to savor the heat coming off her before going for the zipper. Jacqueline follows the movement with her eyes. Lifts her hips for the younger to peel off the jeans. Smiling, taunting, as Rhys’ pale hand snakes over her thighs, shaking and nervous. Yellow satin panties, expensive no doubt, was the last thing that stood in Rhys’s way. The last barrier to a fantasy she had been living out in her head for almost a decade now.
Jacqueline picks up on Rhys increasing tension and guides Rhys’s hands to the cloth.
“Don’t mean to be a bitch here cupcake, but huh,” Rhys’s hand is pushed against the crotch of the panties. “ Can we get on with it?”
Rhys nods her head frantically and pulls the golden fabric down toned legs. It was a lot for her to take in. Her idol, the centerpiece of her infatuation, was sitting naked in front of her, legs spread, wet cunt right there for the taking. Rhys had to take a moment to thank whatever God allowed this to happen.
Rhys carefully leans forward and licks between her lips. Jaq bucks up into the contact.
“Stop pussyfooting,” Jacqueline growls. “Get on with it.”
Jaq fists Rhys hair again in an attempt to bring the other in closer. A shame. Rhys wants to take her time though. Regardless of the sensitive time situation they’ve been handed. She wanted to live it out to the fullest, remember every little detail. The knuckles against her scalp insisted otherwise. The first real violent tug of hair had Rhys jaw unhinged and moaning loudly. The noise vibrated against the others clit, eliciting a delicious reaction. Jacqueline rolls towards the sensation and chirps.
“Oooh, there we go!~” Jaqs voice was dripping with sex and mirth. “You dirty masochistic bitch.”
Rhys whimpers, drags her tongue flat against her clit, closes her lips around the nub, and sucks hard. Jaq swears and grinds her pussy against the student’s face.
“Finally~ That’s a good girl.”
Rhys whimpers at the honeyed purr. Her hand itches to palm the seat of her pants. Something to ease her own need. Rhys decides against it, this was more about Jacqueline than anything else. The woman in question is humming languid moans while she continues to fiddle and thread Rhys’ mangled hair.
Jaq shifts her leg. Then again. Rhys doesn't pay attention. Figures she's trying to get comfortable and whatnot, that is, until she feels the heel of her foot press against her inner thigh. She detaches from Jaqs cunt when the pressure slides to her crotch. She gasps roughly when the older woman grinds her foot roughly against her. Rhys collapses unto Jacqueline's knee.
“You are a cute little thing Rhysie.” She jerks the young woman by her hair, pulling her back into a straight position.
“C’mon darling.”
Rhys feels tears building in the corner of her eyes. This was becoming increasingly too much for her. It was overwhelming. Rhys tries to yank herself out of her grip. She feels frantic, desperate to get back to what she was doing. Jaq lets her drop and Rhys eagerly pushes her face back in between the actress’s thighs. Tongue delving back in, this time straining to push it in as far as it goes.
“H, Hey Rhys,” Jaq breathes out hotly. “You gotta be dying down there. Go, go wild baby.” She slides her calves up in between Rhys’s thighs. Rhys catches on after a dull moment. She glances up at matching heterochromatic eyes, searching for any signs of deceit. Jaq sighs and rolls her eyes dramatically. She fists her hand against Rhys scalp, the tightest she's gripped this whole time, and pulls so violently that Rhys feels strands rip out.
“I want you to get off against my leg Rhys. I want you to rut against my leg like the little bitch in heat you are. Show me. Show me what a pathetic and desperate slut you are. I want you to do all that while eating me out. Do you understand me, you fucking whore? Show me how big of a fan you are.”
Rhys is frantic now. Her whole body feels like there's a live current going through her. Jacqueline's words have her reeling. Her throat was too dry and her mouth was too wet. She nods dumbly and quickly. Her technique is sloppier and quicker with the addition of her embarrassing humping. She clamps the calf in her thighs, one of her spare hands gripping the meat of her leg with an iron grasp. The contact is a wave of relief for the student. She's already keyed so far up to the edge she fears she won't be able to hold on for more than a couple of minutes of frotting.
The situation is beyond surreal.
Jaq laughs airily. Just as breathless as Rhys at this point.
“Fuc-Fucking disgusting. Like a goddamn d-fuck-dog. God.~ You love it don't you,” Jacqueline looks at her with almost reverence. “Love being a disgusting needy little girl huh?~ Love being treated like a worm? Like dirt?” Jacqueline's words were rough, barely there, overshadowed by gruesome thrusts against Rhys’s face.
Rhys whined. The words bounced around her skull like a malfunctioning pinball machine. It left her too hot, too wet, and too horny to think or care about anything else. The stimuli has tears near spilling down her ruddy cheeks.
“God, you even like being talked down to. That's so goddamn pathetic.” Jacqueline moans through a cruel laugh. “You’re even crying.” She titters with delight.
Rhys realizes she's right with a sob. The tears had started to stream down her hot, hot face. She could only imagine how she looked to her idol right now. Hair in disarray, face red and covered in tears and sweat, whining grossly, all while sloppily fellating her and humping her leg like a dog.
She couldn't deny any of it either. Every word, every hurtful syllable, was right. They were doing it for her. Doing it for her so deliciously. They only added to the hot pool in her belly threatening to spill. Through trial and error, inspiration drawn from Jaqs seedy movies, she had found she was indeed, a little more, if not completely into, being degraded and punished.
Rhys feels the time biting away at their heels, they need to finish this off, and soon.
Unfortunately.
She uses her robotic hand to thumb against the older woman's clit. The cold untouched metal makes the actress jump and gasp. She giggles in unfound glee, like she had just discovered something new about herself.
“That's it! That's a good girl~.”
Rhys didn't know if it was how she sounded or if she also responded well to praise, but she drooled more. She curls her tongue and speeds up her movements with her thumb. Jacqueline arches her back and throws her head into the plush cushions of the chair.
“F-fuck, faster. Faster, kid.” Jacqueline had abandoned her hair and was now pulling at her shoulders.
Rhys lets her grip with her flesh hand go and pushes 2 fingers in along with her tongue. She could feel now, how hot and wet the tan woman's pussy was. She could feel the fine ridges of muscle spasming and clenching deliciously around her fingers.
Jacqueline holds back a shout. She plants her feet on the ground and buck into the stimulus with wild abandon. Her hands hold Rhys’ head down as she finally and abruptly comes. Rhys makes a high pitch sound to accompany Jaq’s gleeful growl.
Once she goes slack into her armchair Rhys hastily shoves her hand into her pants to rub her need. She barely manages to get her hand into underwear in her rush. She was soaking through the cotton. She was wet, so very wet. She vaguely recalls hearing Jaq groan above her.
“Well, ain't that a pretty sight. You close cupcake?” Rhys nods, absentmindedly aware of the words coming out of her mouth. “You gonna come without even thanking me for all this?”
Rhys doesn't even pause her manic frotting when she lays her cheek on Jaqs bare leg. She rises to her knees, so she can slip a finger into her hot pussy.
“Y, yes, thank you. Thank you so, so much miss.” Jaq laughs.
“For what?”
“ Thank you, thank you for l-letting me eat you out, miss.” Jacqueline hums happily. Pleased.
She grabs Rhys by the short hairs on her neck to tear her off her knee. She knocks the younger woman to the floor, rises to tower over her. Before Rhys can react Jacqueline's hand comes to wrap around her throat. The sudden vice forces Rhys to stare into Jaqs predatory gaze. She looked even more feral than before. Running her tongue over her teeth and lips, she looks down on her like a hungry wolf.
“Come,” Rhys body jerks at the command. “Come for me, Rhys.” The fingers around her throat tighten ever so slightly.
The sudden cut off from air has Rhys’ eyes rolling into the back of her head and her body rippling with new sickening pleasure. Her body tightens up violently. Her hands stutter and shake as they try to keep up with the high that hits her like an off railed roller coaster.
When her body finally stops convulsing Jacqueline drops her like a sack of bricks. While she lay there, capturing her stolen breaths, the other straightens up and goes back to redressing. She does it slowly, contemplatively. Maybe it's because of the post-orgasmic hue, or the high from lack of air, or even because the dream-like state of it all, but Rhys found herself taking in the mundane movements with newfound reverence. The smooth calculated way she buttoned the silk shirt back up without fail. The modeled pose of her body as she leans down to retrieve her pants and underwear. The almost sinful way she pulls them back up smooth tan legs. It makes her want to undress all over again.
Jacqueline smiles when she turns back towards the puddle of woman that was Rhys. She sighs and straddles the destroyed woman. The expression almost looks like one of sympathy.
“Hey princess, you still there?” Rhys nods,” You should fix yourself up. Wouldn't want your friend to see you looking like a two-bit whore.”
She tries to smooth down the mess she had made of Rhys’s hair, to no avail. Rhys experiences the intimate touch through a fog, but she holds unto to it as much as she can before it's gone. Jaq frowns when the hair doesn't quite cooperate with her. It wasn't perfect but at least she didn't look like someone was trying to tear her hair out anymore. She grimaces again and wipes Rhys’s mouth and chin with her sleeve. A sleeve to a shirt that probably costs more than Rhys’s entire outfit. It was a very motherly touch, Rhys thinks warmly.
“God, you look like a dog. Do you always slobber so much?” Jacqueline stands back up and gestures Rhys to finish fixing herself up.
“N, no. I don't think so.” Rhys mumbles, finally coming back to reality.
“Like, for real. Do you give blowjobs like that? Or do you skip the middleman and spit on the guys' dick. Jee-”
While Jacqueline continues spouting some convoluted and insulting monologue Rhys carefully stands. She was still out of it. She felt like a newborn deer finding their footing. This had all happened and ended so quickly it feels as though it almost never happened at all. Why had it happened? Was something Jaq did often? Rhys feels as if she would know, given the tabloid’s involvement in the entertainers' life. Why Rhys of all people?
Rhys regards her mutely in the dim light coming through the windows. Her berating voice a smooth white noise.
She was beautiful.
Rhys had always thought so, long before any fragments of a crush began to form. She was an ideal. Even while she portrays herself as crude and unforgiving, an icy queen to be trifled with. Even now while she picks on the person she just accosted for sex.
But
She was never supposed to be attainable though. Nothing more than a perfected idol. Never more than a dream.
Rhys' heart twists uncomfortably in her chest.
“Ms. Lawrence?” Jaq turns, a cigarette loosely hanging from her lips, brows arched. “What…” Rhys fidgety plays with her sleeve. “What was this?”
Jacqueline's frowns and turns solemn. Quietly she lights it and takes a long thoughtful drag. She lets the silence grow and fester as she billows out smoke around her. With a cigarette between long fingers, she approaches Rhys. She gives Rhys an authentic smile and leans up to kiss the brunette softly. It felt out of character for the other. There was no heated fervor, no urgency. It was so delicate. Gentle. A kiss you give to a leaving lover.
It causes the uncomfortable feeling in Rhys’ chest to double. It makes her chest feel hot and sickeningly heavy.
“It can be what you need it to be.” Jacqueline delicately holds Rhys face in her hands. “A fling, a dumb wet dream, an anonymous letter to penthouse forums, whatever. But, above all, Rhys, it needs to be our secret.”
“Our secret?”
“Just for you.” A door shuts upstairs and both women startle. Jaq turns dead stoic and holds Rhys’ chin firmly.
“If she finds out, or if you hurt her, I’ll slit your goddamn throat, capiche?” Jaq winks playfully.
Footsteps approach down the stairs. Jacqueline moves to distance herself from Rhys, who hurriedly goes back to her spot.
“Mom! What did I say about smoking inside! You know how much it agitates Tammy’s asthma.” Angel chirps as she emerges back into the living room. Jaq rolls her eyes at the name.
“It's my own house,” Jaq mumbles. “But I guess I’ll go outside. Wouldn't want to upset Tamithas delicate lungs.” Jaq waves and leaves once again.
Angel shakes her head and plops down next to Rhys.
“She didn't bother you, did she? I told you she can be well, from what I’ve been told, a bitch.” Angel whispers and giggles.
Rhys still dumbfounded by what had taken place in the last hour and a half, shook her head no. Jacqueline's parting words between the two of them still echoed in her head.
A secret. Just for Rhys.
“Uh, no, she was giving me some insight into some code I was working on.”
“Oh yeah? That's great. She's usually not so nice to guests. It's good to see she hasn't run you off.” Angel laughs.
A secret.
yeehaw
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couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short.
uma x original female character fanfiction | post descendants three | canon compliant | part one of ? | rating : teen | warnings : swearing | word count : 2389 | masterlist
prompt : none! i made this post a while ago and finally i have made true on my promise!!! moodboards for this fic can be found here and here.
tags (open): @cherry-bxtch, @cosmosstarstudio
when uma gets to auradon, she is quick to learn that not everybody is as happy to meet pirates as they were when the barrier was first opened. none of the royalty and heroes she danced with weeks ago will even look her in the eye, it’s like it just dawned on them that she’s uma triskelion, cotillion ruiner. so when she walks into her dorm room for the first time and nobodies there to greet her, she’s not even fucking surprised.
it’s lived in, barely, but she’s sure she has a roommate at least. evie apologizes and apologizes through the phone because she was so sure the other girl would be there, but uma can’t even blame her missing roommate, if she was a prissy princess, she wouldn’t want to meet her either.
it’s bad enough that uma can’t be with her friends, the school had done a fantastic fucking job of making sure she couldn’t be with harry or gil, or any person from her crew from that matter. the teachers had told her it was because they had to keep the boys and girls separate, but they wouldn't let her stay with desiree or bonnie or harriet for god’s sake, which even though they had thoroughly proven to have different crews, uma was allowed no familiar face.
harry was going fucking mental, he pretty much threatened fairy godmother when she told them that gil and her couldn’t be in the same dorm as him. at first, harry and gil had been put in the same room together, because uma was the real villain, they didn’t ruin cotillion, she did. but then it came to their attention that the two of them had broken out of the barrier when audrey had control of the scepter, so that had made them separate as well.
and at first, they wanted to put audrey with uma, but since they were both villains now, they had to be separated as well. it was a shame, they both had something in common at least.
but no, instead she was living in this suffocatingly neat room, and everything on the occupied surfaces on the other side of the room seemed so delicate and soft that if the sea witch looked at it for too long she might break it.
the whole room had white french inspired furniture and the walls were a pale blue so light it was almost not there. after the barrier was opened, the castle decorator came back from her long break in italy. she had left as soon as the barrier was put up, wanting no part of a world like that. but within her travels she had met a man, and apparently she had a baby girl. uma didn’t really care, but she respected the woman, as diva as she was, she still fought for the villain kids over and over.
so now, she had redecorated the dorms to match the personalities of the inhabitants. uma’s side had seashells and little pirate-y decorations. uma had already unloaded her things in the room, her clothes dumped on the bed, she had little knickknacks her boys had given her scattered on the crisp white desk.
the floor had two pairs kicked off shoes, since those were all that she had on the isle. the jewelry that she had was stashed underneath her mattress in a ratty cloth. she didn’t have very many ‘beauty’ products, and those that she did have were from audrey and evie, but those that she did have were haphazardly strewn in a desk drawer.
in comparison to her roommate's side, uma’s seemed messier than the isle of the lost. the other girl’s side was pristine and the surfaces were devoid of anything considered dirty. the white furniture had gold detailing on both sides, but with what the other girl had decorating the surfaces, the gold seemed to shine brighter. a fresh vase of flowers seemed to laugh at uma, who had never seen flowers before coming to auradon. the blue and white bedding looked straight out of a magazine with the layers and several pillows adorning the bed.
the first time uma saw it, she sneered. it looked like a dollhouse, nothing was out of place, whereas uma’s side looked bare. (and now it looked out of place against the pastel dream, every time she went over there it felt like she was being suffocated in sugary sweet frosting.)
now, she was sitting on her bed, having just thrown her things wherever she damn pleased (that’ll show them what she thinks of their prissy princess ruffles). her side is actually quite plain, save for the sea shells and a painting of the sea hung above the wired frame of her bed. neither of them have canopies, but her roommate has an angel painting above her bed instead. it’s quite pretty, if she thinks about it. (but she doesn’t because she doesn’t care at all about what some princess has on her side of the room)
it sort of feels like the girl is never going to come, which makes uma think that the girl is scared of her. (which she fucking should be, i mean, she’s a pirate captain and a sea witch) nobody else seems to like them that much, and that makes harry glow, and gil pout a little (which makes harry threaten to kiss him if he doesn’t stop, and that makes uma laugh because she knows gil really wouldn’t mind being kissed by the older boy.)
uma falls back on the bed with a sigh, eyes boring into the ceiling, the bed was super fucking comfortable, like holy shit. she could feel herself sinking in, but she would not let her eyes close. she was tired, but she was always tired. she had always convinced herself that really she wasn’t really tired (harry had always sat next to her in bed until she fell asleep, and if she didn’t he’d wake gil up so he could hold her, and the three of them fell asleep like that.) she and the boys at stayed in evie’s castle for the first few days, but now school had started and they needed to move into the dorms.
next to her, the phone carlos had given her buzzed with a call notification. it didn’t startle her, but she groaned and flipped over, grabbing a pillow and whining into it. she really didn’t want to text anyone, she had only been here for a week and already evie had blown up her phone about a million times.
she remembers when evie came to uma and telling her that they put her in a room with this other girl because they were both new to auradon. and originally this had caused uma to think this girl was from the isle (which made her think all hope is not fucking lost, get your shit together uma, you’re in for a long ride but at least it’ll be someone you know), but the blue-haired girl had told her her roommate wasn’t from there. (fuck)
her phone eventually died down, before a shorter buzz emitted from where she had tried to muffle it. she knew this one too, it sounded like a text, she groaned and crawled over to where it lay buried underneath the pillows from where she tossed it away. unlocking it with her fingerprint (something she didn’t quite understand yet) she saw a missed call from (you guessed it) evie and a text also from her saying, ‘mark my words, i’m going to track down your roomie, i’m so sorry she ditched, ugh.’
uma carefully typed back, ‘okay’ before powering it off, tossing it back to it’s pillow buried state. she didn’t even want a roommate, she really didn’t. uma could go without a stuffy girl who watches her with caution. it would be better if she was all alone to worry about gil and harry and their respective nightmares. (she was their anchor, after all.) harry’s scared him more, but gil’s were longer, so that was almost worse. her stomach knots at the thought of them being alone, which she will never ever admit to them. (even though they already know)
her phone buzzes again, and this time it confuses her. furrowing her eyebrows she sits on her knees to pick it up. and, in fact, it’s not evie. from what she can tell, it’s an unknown number with a message that is misspelled in so many ways, that she knows it just has to be from gil. it says something about ‘haz’ which is a name that only gil is allowed to call harry, and it includes many of those stupid smiley faces carlos showed her. but basically, the message tells her that harry and gil are coming over tonight.
her mood is lifted as she imagines that everything will be almost normal, the three of them will be together, just in a more comfortable bed. but, someone else will be there, unless maybe she’ll be able to scare off this roommate of hers. it should be pretty simple, since she couldn’t even come and meet her in the first place.
she could always send harry to find her, which is so dramatic and totally unnecessary it makes her laugh a little. but she didn’t want to kill her experience here, and terrorizing her roommate without being here for even a day (or even meeting said roommate) will probably ruin her dutiful and redeemed first impression. (not that it could get any worse, she turned into a giant octopus and almost killed them all, and she kidnapped the king to hold him hostage. so really scaring her roommate is probably considered tame compared to everything else.)
and now, everybody’s safe and healthy, away from their parents. harry’s going to learn how to count and gil will learn how to read. and even as much as she wants to stay with them tonight, she’s not going to risk them getting themselves kicked out. she retrieves her phone and opens the message, mentally telling herself to ask carlos how to make a contact. (whatever the hell that was) she types back, ‘you can’t, i have a roommate remember?’
closing her eyes, her phone is dropped on her stomach as she lays back, its quiet, which unnerves her in a way she hadn’t thought about yet. even the breathing of someone else would calm her nerves in the slightest. she thinks about this ‘roommate’. maybe she’s home schooled and has never even been to school before. it’s likely she just went to a different school before this, uma’s not stupid, she’s sort of even the most logical person out of her crew. (which makes sense because she’s the fucking captain)
her phone buzzes within ten seconds of her laying down, she carefully takes it in her hands like she’d scared it would fucking shatter. ‘but i wanna come see you :( i miss you.’ a smile worms it’s way onto her face as she looks at the message. it surprises her as it buzzes again, the little chat bubble pops up saying, ‘harry says he misses you too :)’
her brow furrows, ‘harry’s with you?’ the teachers had seemed hellbent on keeping them apart (not that it would work) but harry always found his way around things. he climbed through uma’s window when ursula used to keep her locked up in her (very bare) room, he dragged gil to the ship when his dad was being especially dumb. he cares about all of the crew even if he doesn’t show it.
‘yeah, he climbed through the window and locked jay out :)’ she laughs, that sounds like a the kind of thing harry would do. they haven’t even been in these dorms for two hours and yet he’s already found a way out of the ‘punishment’. she hadn’t imagined him taking a long time though, they were family.
‘i miss you too, both of you. but i’m not going to risk getting kicked out of here on our first night.’ she sets down her phone and gets up, stretching. ‘tell harry to bring you to the commons, he knows where it is. they can’t punish us for socializing.’ she figures that if they act like they’re at least trying to fit in, they’ll stop trying to separate them.
‘okay uma :)’ the message buzzes in the pocket of her jeans, a newly acquired item audrey had thrown at her this morning when she went over to evie’s to get the trio awake. she had told them that after this week of school, she’s taking them to the mall to find, her words, ‘less spikey’ clothes.
uma points her gaze at her phone briefly before leaving the sugary sweet looking room, tucking her phone back in her pocket and shutting the door. evie had given her a key to the dorm, and so she attempted to lock back up again. a satisfying click was heard before she put the key away, finding her way to the commons.
she pretended not to notice the stares and whispers, but she expected them so it was hard to ignore it. things were so much easier on the isle, if people had something to say, they would say it to your face instead of being bitches about it. the more uma stayed, the more she could tell that auradon was just a bigger prison, like a refinement center or some shit like that.
she neared the chatter of students and comfy sofas, eyes caught onto her with a fearful twinge, and then the whispers started again. she only heard ‘that’s the girl that turned into her mother and tried to kill us.’ her heart clenches with the anger rising in her chest. she was not her mother, she almost succeeded where her mother failed miserably. she had fooled everyone, and she knows it’s wrong to still be so angry at mal, but that girl terrorized her, basically her entire life. it’s hard to forget that shit.
“uma!” she barely even turned around before she felt strong arms encircling her waist and a smile pressed into her shoulder. she ignores the way her heart warms and reminds herself that she doesn’t have to hide here, they can be happy.
ʚĭɞ | if you want to be on my taglist, all you have to do is like this post. i hope you enjoyed the lil bits of sea three fluff i threw in here :) this chapter is sponsored by jupi because she puts up w my random descendants related ramblings ♡♡ requests are open so please feel free to shoot me an ask! please don’t let this flop! evangeline will be introduced in the next chapter, so consider this a prologue almost. - rory
#only angel series#tw ; swearing#uma fanfiction#uma descendants#gil x uma x harry#sea three#disney descendants#descendants fanfiction#post descendants three#fanfiction#my writing#uma x ofc#uma x original female character#uma centric#uma daughter of ursula#uma triskelion#uma 'everywhere i go rich white men disappoint me' triskelion#harry hook#harry descendants#gil descendants#gil legume#descendants three#canon compliant
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Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)
(previous chapter)
Chapter 5 – Frankenstein’s Shadow
‘He wouldn’t give me that murderous glare of his just because it took only 2 days for me to get back here, would he?’ Thought Lunark as she fingered her hair once again, which she had brushed with care.
Although she came with a valid reason – Adne managed to unlock one of Ignes’s files less than 24 hours ago – she could not help getting worriedly conscious of the fact that the new file’s volume was so small compared to that of the first file she had delivered. So small she was not sure if this one even deserved to be labeled a file.
Fortunately for her, she was met with another reason not to chicken out and scram from Frankenstein’s island, upon picking up someone’s presence and tracking it down.
“You...?!”
Lunark exclaimed, identifying a very familiar man sitting by a tree perfumed with mosses.
“It’s been a while, 5th Elder. I mean, Lady Lunark.”
Lunark could feel her brain burning cold as soon as she assessed 3rd Elder’s face as he stood, for she had been dying to run into him.
“Sorry for not recognizing you for a sec. You’re missing a cloak.”
“...Well, on this island I’m not an elder of the Union.”
And no need for the clarification, thanks.
Lunark uttered an inner scorn as she scanned 3rd Elder’s outfit – black long-sleeved t-shirt and white pants. He looked so plain, so ordinary, so unlike a Union’s elder who at the same time used to be the right-hand man of the apex of the Union.
“Frankenstein told me everything. If I remember correctly, from now on you’ll be regularly stopping by in order to collect his old research data, to make use for treatment and rehab of werewolves that survived from... (The 3rd Elder winced ever-so-subtly before continuing.) From Maduke’s experiments... As well as invasion initiated by me and the 1st Elder.”
Lunark curtly nodded to show approval for the excuse she and Frankenstein devised for her visit, on the day she first arrived.
“Indeed. And thanks to a certain someone, Frankenstein and I have turned quite busy. I’m sure you’d know that neither of us has a lot of free time.”
No agreement or disagreement came from the 3rd Elder. He merely let his eyes escalate downwards to his feet.
“Anyways, what are you doing here? Seems to me you were moping or something.”
“Moping, huh...? Yes, maybe I was moping.”
“Really? The 3rd Elder? Moping? But too bad. The only interpretation I can make out of your confession is that you are bluffing in order to hide what you’ve been really up to. I know what you are like. And what you’ve done.”
The 3rd raised his eyes back to Lunark’s face in response to her sneer. However, he did not unzip his lips even a bit, perhaps because he knew he was in no position to prove her words wrong.
“While I’m at it, let me make one thing clear. Since Frankenstein chose to keep you close, I will not lay my hands on you. That I can promise. But in other words, that’s the only reason why I will ever leave you in one piece in the first place. Trust me – whenever I think about what you and the 1st Elder did to my people, I must fight my own urge to rip you into shreds this instant.”
Her audience stood frozen, taking in every syllable of her disdainful speech.
“If you ever plot something against Frankenstein, play hindrance in whatever he does, or take advantage of his hospitality, I WILL make you pay. And if he ever suffers a loss or damage because of you, I swear – I will make sure from then on, you won’t get to lift anything heavier than a spoon for the rest of your life.”
As she warned the 3rd Elder, Lunark’s face was surprisingly placid, her voice toned in its normal pitch. Still, the 3rd Elder could see she was as serious as she could be, for he felt as if he were up against a wrathful wolf about to lunge for its prey’s head.
Ironically, that was exactly what inclined him to point out what he just hypothesized.
“Funny.”
“What’s funny?”
“Please don’t get me wrong – I fully understand what you are saying. It’s just that... It sounded like you were giving a personal warning as ‘a woman caring for Frankenstein,’ not as ‘a werewolf warrior representing the entire wolfkind.’”
At once, Lunark’s pink eyes shuddered as if she were hit by a bullet.
“And it appears there is something more than comradeship or generosity at the basis of your words. Do you... Do you happen to harbor feelings for him?”
“Why would you care?!”
Lunark ended up stunning herself, her retort fashioned much sharper than she had intended.
“Does he know about this?”
And just like that, he completely turned the table on her.
“I’m not sure since when you have developed feelings for him, but I’m afraid your feelings will not be reciprocated. If I dare say, there’s a good chance your heart will wait endlessly for a single touch of light, only to wither into none, just like this nameless flower that has made poor haven under the shadow of this tree.”
“Did you take liking in reading poetry during free time? Moping is one thing, and now here you are, monologuing about flowers and shadow.”
“Yes, I did frame it a bit too fancy, but I was trying to be considerate. Apparently there’s a shadow in Frankenstein’s heart. Ever since we moved into this island, he has been leading an unusually reclusive life. I assume he tends to research and data categorization on this island and accommodates himself somewhere else.”
“...Why would you ‘assume’ that’s what he does?”
“Because he leaves every night and returns next morning, and I have no knowledge of what he does during his absence. I can only assume he fulfills his basic needs outside, since each time he returns in a new attire.”
The corner of Lunark’s eyes creased slightly upon unexpected discovery.
‘I did tell him to beware of the 3rd Elder, but... This is not exactly what I had in mind.’
It did not take long for Lunark to decide that her warning had nothing to do with Frankenstein’s behaviors. After all, Frankenstein and the 3rd Elder had been occupying this island before Muzaka made her his “secret agent.”
‘But why? There’s nothing strange in his caution against his enemy-turned-ally, but why would he choose the inconvenience of lodging himself away from a safehouse that comes with a perfect housing system?’ Lunark inwardly muttered to herself, reminiscing how awestruck she was during her tour of Frankenstein’s safehouse, impeccably furnished in terms of residential aspects that she even suspected he hired an expert designer for the job.
She was momentarily impelled to acquire more information on the matter, but she aborted the idea.
For the 3rd Elder learned something that could work against her in the future, there was no guarantee that continuing the conversation would be beneficial for her.
Therefore, she steeled her voice as she tried to conceal her fluster.
“So what? Like I said, it’s none of your business whether I have a crush on him or not. And what was that about my feelings and flowers? If you have time to come up with stupid metaphors and make yourself sound like 12th Elder before having dinner, just go back to your so-called moping session!”
Lunark turned herself away as coldly as possible. She had to refrain from telling him that if Frankenstein hears a word about this, she will murder him – that would only demonstrate how strong her feelings have grown.
As she kept her back straight and walked on, something caught her eyes. The next moment, her legs stopped altogether upon perceiving she was looking at a flower species she was highly familiar with.
‘This must be wolfsbane. Its color differs from the ones on our land, but the shape it blossomed into tells me it’s definitely a species of wolfsbane.’
As beautiful as it may be, wolfsbane possesses deadly poison, hidden behind aesthetic colors and contours that have won immense popularity among flower-lovers.
Ancient humans evidently were aware of wolfsbane’s toxicity, incorporating its poison in mythology as the beloved invention of Hecate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft and the guardian deity of witches, and historically employing it as a kit to hunt wolves (a fact reflected in the flower’s etymology).
Thus in a way, wolfsbane is a botanical counterpart of a siren; let the creature cast its spell, and one may be irrevocably destroyed by its true nature.
‘And I guess for me, this flower is just like him...’
Lunark sighed heavily, emitting all the air supply she had been stocking, a proof that her life these days has become a total mess thanks to a certain blonde human.
‘I still can’t believe I was actually late to my lord’s recoronation because of him.’
The day Muzaka reclaimed the throne, Lunark was supposed to be in the very front of the werewolf attendants, as a warrior of wolfkind and one of Muzaka’s right-hand servants.
Alas, she was late to the ceremony because of Frankenstein.
At the time, she planned to attend the ceremony as soon as she was done talking to Frankenstein for one last time. Or rather, to be precise, she called KSA so that she could ask the KSA staff to relay her thank-you message for all the hard work he had done.
To her shock and dismay, she was met with a news that Frankenstein was gone, and even KSA had lost communications with him.
Out of severe alarm, she instantaneously requested communication with Tao and asked him what happened to Frankenstein. Tao filled her in about the reason why Frankenstein was gone, but not even he provided her with his location and plan, which were what really mattered to her.
After wasting her time talking to more people than she had in mind, as well as trying to restitch her mind, she realized she was late.
And until next day, until Frankenstein showed himself on the communications monitor out of blue to hand over his communicative coordinates for emergency use, she was on the edge of her seat for every second, like a job seeker waiting for the result of the very last job interview of her life after failing to hear back from dozens of potential employers.
Lunark knew very well that anything concerning the werewolf lord comes in as the top priority for a werewolf warrior.
‘But back then, I couldn’t think of the coronation ceremony at all because of him. Seriously... What have you done to me, Frankenstein?’
Yet she knew what was happening to her. She knew since who-knows-when, Frankenstein had taken property of every seam and corner of her heart.
‘This flower happens to be purple like him. Or rather, purple like that cursed weapon he wields.’
Great, now I think of him even when I see the color purple, thought Lunark, as she once again confirmed she was exhibiting one of those symptoms of love.
“Hopeless... This is just hopeless.”
“What is hopeless?”
Lunark jumped like a cat that spotted a cucumber at its rear end as she turned around in a flash. Luckily, Frankenstein dodged her hair fast enough and avoided getting slapped in the face.
“W-what are you doing here?”
“Says a guest to the owner of an island.”
Frankenstein shrugged, as if he had just heard the funniest thing in the world. And a mere shrug, with the push of his smile, was more than enough to shatter Lunark’s heart once again. Which was why she suffered a delay in noticing that he was not empty-handed.
He was holding a plastic case safekeeping a pair of sanitary gloves and plastic bags for sampling, along with a dirty yet well-honed gardening utensil, which hinted her what he was here for.
“I’m sure you have no interest in pressing flowers or gardening. Are you using this flower for your experiment or something?”
“Not an experiment. It’s for a personal need,” replied Frankenstein, as he kneeled and started poking and shoving around a wolfsbane’s root in a very professional manner.
“Why would you take a wolfsbane plant for a personal need? I don’t count myself as one of those lab people, but I do know that most of flower species classified under the category of wolfsbane come with poison. Well, though I doubt that its poison will be lethal for modified humans or non-humans, even if it is ingested entirely as a raw plant.”
“Right. And some wolfsbane species are so venomous that even a minimum touch on skin can cause traumatizing and even life-threatening effect on human body. However, wolfsbane is also available for medical use. Even these days, wolfsbane is used as painkiller and, depending on the situation, cardiac stimulant in traditional Korean and Chinese medicine.”
Frankenstein answered with a tone only expected from most popular lecturers in doctorate chemistry lectures. Nevertheless, Lunark’s face darkened even before he could finish his words.
“So are you going for the former or the latter? Are you ill? So ill you must carry a painkiller or cardiac drug all the time?”
“If I were to choose, I would say it’s the latter. But not exactly. And don’t worry – I don’t have any pain or heart issue.”
Frankenstein glanced at Lunark and was left with bewilderment as a result. She was staring at him as if he were just sentenced to death.
“...No need to give me that look. Remember that I told you a wolfsbane can be used to create drugs that stimulate heart functions? I have modified and adjusted the use and processing of a cardiac stimulant to instead use this flower as a source of a nerve stimulant.”
“Meaning...?”
“It’s for keeping me awake as long as its effect lasts, without any need for sleep.”
Frankenstein was hoping to relieve her of concerns, but Lunark did not look happy at all. Her forehead furrowed deeply, now her face so dark that in other circumstances, Frankenstein would have concluded one of her kith and kin met demise.
“Are you saying you haven’t slept at all ever since you moved into this island? Just how busy can you be? Do you have to stay awake for whatever you have at hand?”
“...I’m in no situation to indulge in sleep or dreams.”
Lunark bit her lips as the fact sank that she was wrong. When she talked to the 3rd Elder, she was glad Frankenstein was seemingly getting some sleep, at the very least. But he was not.
Lunark was about to amplify her voice to shriek what on Earth he would do outside this island, before she managed to hold her tongue.
Confronting Frankenstein about his activities outside would make him curious of the source of her intelligence, which would lead to a discussion on the discussion she had with the 3rd Elder. And Lunark was not sure if she could lie about her previous conversation, let alone her feelings for him.
In addition, knowing his personality, she could swear he would not listen even if she were to be a mom for him just this once. Given up on reasoning with him, she directed his attention to a speculation that just came up.
“I remember how you drank something from your flask when I first got here. Was that a drug you made with wolfsbane flowers?”
Frankenstein’s hands paused for a second in reaction.
Frankenstein remembered what he gave her as a reply when she inquired what he was drinking; he kept his answer as vague and not-worthy-of-attention as he could. And he surely did not mention to her in what form the tonic came in. Yet here he was, marveling once again that there was a reason why Lunark was made an elder of the Union.
“Yep. That was it.”
“I didn’t think this was what you meant when you said it’s like coffee to you. And I bet you were the one who came up with the recipe to cook up that drug.”
“Of course. The other uses for wolfsbane plant include fever reducer at the most, and apart from the use of wolfsbane, it’s been centuries since human medicine last had its effect on me. And speaking of which, I must go through a revision of my cookbook. The number of wolfsbane plant on this island is decreasing as we speak, so I won’t be able to make any more effective tonic unless I modify the amount of poison to be used.”
“So you’ve been basically feeding on this flower.”
“Yes, but it’s also partially because this island was never densely populated by this flower. Now I basically have to hunt for a needle in a haystack in order to find a wholesome plant.”
“...Want me to bring them to you?”
Frankenstein stopped his hands from pulling out a wolfsbane flower to gape at her.
“Well, there is this enormous colony of wolfsbane flowers near the boundaries of our territory. And no one has ever touched it as far as I know, since we’ve never imagined using this flower for medicinal purpose. And trust me – this colony is big enough to cover the entire Pacific. The thing is, the wolfsbane in our land is probably a different species from this one, because its flower is pink. I’m not sure if you can use it for your ‘recipe,’ but I can fetch one as a sample for my next visit. What do you say?”
Frankenstein was silent. His ears did prick at her suggestion; he could actually hear Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 echoing in his head.
‘But if I say yes... I’ll end up running into her more often.’
Opposed to the obvious outcome, he briefly tried to come up with a way to very courteously turn down her offer, with a legitimate reason that will not hurt her feelings.
But of course, he knew he had no choice. He was aware of the ill effect he will bring upon himself if he were to say no.
“It’s fine. It’s all good as long as it comes under wolfsbane category.”
“So you mean...”
“From now on, bring me three separate wolfsbane flowers, if you please. And each flower must come with complete roots as well, undamaged, and hopefully in a sample bag like this one.”
“Okay. No biggie.”
Lunark had to control her voice so she would not sound too excited for having another defensible excuse to visit Frankenstein. Fighting against her glee, she forced the corner of her lips to stay uncrooked.
Partially due to her mind-numbing elation, and partially due to the fact that Frankenstein turned away as he invited her over to the safehouse, Lunark failed to notice that the shadow on his face thickened by a very slim shade.
*****
That night, Frankenstein walked through the corridor of another island he owned. He was at a stranded island dozens of kilometers away from his lab-slash-safehouse. Unlike the aforementioned island, this island housed not a single speck of green, an unparalleled embodiment of Lunark’s description of “a sandless desert with a gigantic cement appendage jutting out of the ground, prisoned by water at all sides.”
And this is where Frankenstein had been taking care of his basic human needs. And more importantly, this is where he had been secretly endeavoring to handle a dilemma that had lately cast a new shadow upon him.
Finally arriving at the special chamber at the heart of the building, he securely fastened the door in order to face the said dilemma once again.
“Answer to my call... Dark Spear.”
(next chapter)
Aaaaand here it is - the flower from which I came up with the title of this fanfic.
I didn’t plan on naming this fanfic Wolfsbane since the beginning. During the brainstorming stage, I landed upon some details about wolfsbane by pure accident, and as I read about this plant, I came to think this is exactly what represents the relationship of Frankie and Lunark and the progress they will make in this fic (and it’s related to wolf lol). The line in this chapter that says “let the creature cast its spell, and one may be irrevocably destroyed by its true nature” is what I had in mind as I sketched this fanfic.
By the way, there are two things about this chapter that isn’t canon in real life: (1) the fact that wolfsbane is used as a nerve stimulant and (2) the pink wolfsbane that can be found in nature. It is true that in traditional Korean and Chinese medicine, wolfsbane can be used as cardiac stimulant or painkiller. But in reality it is not used as a nerve stimulant; that part is my creation. In addition, pink wolfsbane does exist, but only as human-cultivated species; pink wolfsbane does not naturally occur. So for this fic, I created a wolfsbane species of my own (the purple wolfsbane that you would commonly see upon googling is Aconitum jaluense. The pink wolfsbane species that is introduced in this fic is Aconitum crescentonum). Hope that clarifies!
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