#maybe i should save all the articles and first hand sources | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gingersp1ce547 · 4 months ago

Text

Thiago was not expecting to be dad. Not now, nor anytime in the future. He knew how he was, and the life he led. Neither of which were suited for parenthood even though since his own father passed the idea of what kind of one he would be refused to leave his head.

Would he be able to give them half as good as a childhood as the one his father gave him? Would he leave them grieving and wondering how much of their father they knew like he did?

Should someone that shot a 15 year old in the foot be trusted with a child at all?

In the end these questions didn’t matter. Because he had a kid now and she was a sentient egg.

Fortunately, his work on the island was much less dangerous than it was back in brazil. So he could bring hope with him on his daily rounds. She seemed to like it a lot, which was a good thing because he wasn’t sure what he would do with her if she didnt other than leave her in the house with cesar but she spent more than enough time with the hacker already.

Before they had learned what liz had been up to and saved hope, thiago had been spending a lot of time with one badboyhalo. After he had saved dapper bad insisted on giving him a gift, which ended up being a whole thing of enchanted gear. He took some of it but he kept a couple pieces of his old set that liz and cesar had enchanted on, and the rest in an unsorted chest somewhere in his room like everything else he couldn’t get rid of.

He kept hanging around bad after that. Mostly because he was a real good source of information on pretty much everything happening on the island, but also because something he said to Thiago once wouldn’t seem to leave his mind.

Bad was asking about what thiago did before the island, around a month into their stay here they decided it would be ok to tell people the truth as long as they didn’t go into too much detail, so he did. Only for bad to reply “why would somebody marked by death want to fight her creatures?”

“What?”

Bad tiled his head like some kind of owl. His pure white eyes staring through thiago from under his hood. “Or at least i think it’s death. Maybe not our goddess but something similar.”

He looked thiago up and down once more. “Do you not feel it?”

The urge to throw off his hoodie and run to the nearest mirror to double check that the symbol of that fucking place was still gone was tempting. But thiago knew he didnt need it. He knew what it was like for his hand to not be his hand and this wasn’t it.

He shook his head, forcing his tongue to move from where it had glued itself to the top of his mouth, “No.”

Bad made a noise of curiosity in response but moved on. Thiago wasn’t sure if it was out of noticing his discomfort or something else entirely but he thanked the change of pace.

Unfortunately, the fact that he even got that bit of information in the first place meant he needed to go back and continue to prod for more

So far hed gotten out of bad that only the rest of team was “marked” like this. Some clearly were by an entity like thiago, cesar and arthur (bad upset about blood), but with joui and liz it was unclear. Same went for the mark itself, which bad described as almost being fuzzy. Like fog was obscuring his vision of it.

He was pretty sure that this was all bad knew, but bad was bad and liked to be a tricky little shit. One of his coworkers once wrote an article just for fun about creatures from folklore across the world. He was bored on his break and read it which was a good thing because he was not unconvinced that bad wasnt some sort of Irish fae creature. It definitely wouldn’t be the strangest thing a person was on the island (that was etoiles).

Even if bad didnt know anything else about their team, he definitely knew a lot about what happened on island, Especially when it came to politics, or as liz liked to call it, a telenovela pretending to be politics. Which was a blessing in disguise as it made writing about it much less boring on thiago’s part.

Hope was with him today since her quests had already been completed for the week. They bounced across the map as he handed out the latest information about the islands happenings as well as gathered it.

Cellbit and roier were off being sickeningly romantic somewhere and hope asked very politely if she could go say hi to him. Not that thiago would ever say to no to something asked as sweetly as that, he told her yes since Cellbit was technically also her dad even if it was only like 5% since he helped in the investigation to find her.

They then headed to pierre’s to restock on some potions, only to find him and maximus… maybe arguing? Thiago wasnt really sure but it could have also been flirting, or manipulation. It could go many many different ways with those two and honestly even though it was his job to know, thiago didnt wanna know. Neither did he want hope to have to witness it. So he quickly sweeped her up into his arms and turned back around to the teleporter.

She gave him a look of silent curiosity but didn’t ask. He was thankful for it today as opposed to usual worriedness. She had been alone in one spot for so long, and had so much curiosity about the world. Thaigo (and the rest for the team) wanted her to be cautious of the what she was getting into yes, but he also wanted her to feel safe enough to be able to run up to a flower she liked without asking if it was ok first.

Deciding to foster her curiosity at the cost of having to try and find a child friendly way to explain whatever the fuck pierre and max had going on, he told her that they were having a private conversation that he didnt want to interrupt. Hope, who knew all about private conversations because of her secretive ass parents, nodded seriously at this and thaigo took a mental note to explain to her at some point that not all private conversations were matters of life and death.

Next they headed to bad’s, who thaigo knew had a good stock of potions he wouldn’t mind missing if it meant keeping an egg safe. He wasnt there and a look at the map told him he was off on some adventure with dapper most likely in search of creature that the kid wanted to tame.

There was a couple other people awake but he really didnt feel like crossing thousands of blocks to go and find them, so instead the two wandered about spawn. Hope taking the lead and investigating the different buildings up close. She already knew at this point that her pais and mae where not the people to ask about how crafting materials worked and seemed happy just to silently investigate.

In the past he would have expected it to be a good break from taking care of a kid, a time to collect his thoughts. Instead he just watched her and his heart felt warm. No thoughts of the what he was gonna write about next, or how everyone back in brazil was doing drifted through his head. All he could focus on was the way hope would walk up to block, completely transfixed by it, bend down to get a look at it better, maybe tilt her head or touch it lightly before moving on to the next one.

Or at least it was all he could focus on till a sound caught his attention. Mentally, he praised the fact that his still functioning ear worked perfectly if not better than that before turning to look in the direction of the sound. In it’s place he saw “charlie” slimecicle teleporting off somewhere.

This was odd for a couple of reasons. The first being that slime did not wake up often. The second was that when he did he usually hanged around big groups of people and the third was that thiago wasnt sure where he got enough exp to teleport in the first place.

Ok, maybe that last one was a stretch but still. Call it investogators intuition or whatever you want but there was something odd happening here and thaigo wanted to know what.

A light tug on his pants brought him out of his head. He read hope’s sign pai, who was that?

“He’s another islander my dear” he replied

She broke the sign before placing down another, Where is he going?

“Most likely home”

Hope stared at him. It was a stare she most definitely learned from cesar and liz because it screamed bullshit

“He really could be going home,” hope’s stare persisted in intensity “buuuuuuuuut your instinct is right. Theres something fishy about this. I feel it too”

Are you gonna go check? she didnt have to write the and can i come for thiago to know she was thinking it.

“Yep. Do you wanna go teleport to pai cellbits and go hang out with him and tio roier while i do?”

I can go there if you want.

He frowned. A sentence like that was the hope equivalent of saying no. She was just too afraid to say that was what she actually wanted.

Still. There was a possibility, however slim, that whatever awaited them on the other side of that waystone was dangerous. If something ever happened to her and thiago knew he could have prevented it he wasnt sure what he would do with himself outside of that it wasn’t good.

He had a enough innocent peoples blood on his hands already, but to have a child’s?

You don’t know if there were any children in the holy cradle, a voice whispered. It swirled around his ears and even though the non-functioning one was well non-functioning, he swore he could almost hear in it and yet you burned them all the same.

Now wasn’t the time for thoughts like this. Hope was still waiting for a reply and who knew what slime was doing.

“You can come with if you promise you’ll teleport away when i tell you too”

Hope beamed up at him nodding vigorously before placing a sign down quickly writing I promise! And then beginning to run over to the waystone excitedly.

“Woah woah woah slow down my dear!” He called out after her. Once he caught up he added “let me go first and hold my hand the whole time.”

Trying to contain her excitement hope gave one strong nod. It seemed to be an attempt at showing she was serious.

Smiling at this and taking her hand into his, thiago and hope teleported to charlie’s base

There wasn’t much there outside of a small shack which thiago assumed was Charlie’s house. The two investigating the outside area a bit before thiago used his still functioning ear to listen to the door. After hearing nothing inside, the two carefully proceeded to enter the building with thiago leading the way.

He didnt notice anything odd at first glance until hope gently tugged his hand in the direction of something, a small opening made of dirt.

Traveling into it, they found a large cavern filled with various plants and some sort of train system. Ignoring it, thiago and hope stealthily made their way down till they could see charlie standing in front of what seemed to be. a house. Only, he wasn’t alone.

There was an egg with him. One that thiago hadn’t seen before.

Grabbing a sign of hopes he had stored away he wrote out do you know them? Before breaking it and passing the back sign to hope.

No, Was the response he got. So not another test subject egg, which meant considering how Charlie was treating this egg (with warmth and excitement), they were most likely Charlie’s egg.

Only issue was that Charlie’s egg, juanaflippa if thiago remembered right, had died months ago.

“Stay right here,” thiago whispered to hope before giving a light kiss to her head and letting go of her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

Hope nodded and stayed in her spot as thiago got closer and focused his eyes on the outline of this egg. It was times like this that he missed the range of his gun but sword and shield would have to do.

The dead don’t come back. Thiago had known this as fact since the day he learned about the “airplane crash.” But it wasn’t till he joined the order that he learned the second half of the statement.

The dead don’t come back, so when they do. It’s not them anymore. Whether that meant they were a hallucination or a creature, thiago wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was the fact that he wouldn’t let slime be killed by whatever was pretending to wear his child’s face.

Thiago jumped down ready to strike but just as he did, the egg ran back into the house with Charlie sprinting after them, leaving thiago’s sword stuck in the ground. Cursing, he ran after them, only to see the egg disappear into specks of code as Charlie cried out for it.

Code meant code monsters. Thiago was not prepared for code monsters, he was prepared for paranormal bullshit even though none had ever appeared on this island before.

Regardless, he needed to write all of this down while it was still fresh on his mind. It didn’t matter if this wasn’t paranormal, it was still dangerous even if that danger had momentarily passed.

So, thiago turned and quietly walked out the house, back to hope and then the two teleported back home.

Pai, hope wrote upon arriving what was that?

Thiago bite his lip. God what he wouldn’t give for a cigarette right now.

“We’ll figure it out.” He crouched down to her level “So for now let’s not worry about it. Okay my dear?”

Worry crossed over hope’s face for a split second, and it landed sharp like a stab in thiago’s chest.

“This scar?” Arnaldo said pointing at a long scar that wrapped around his upper arm. Usually it was hidden by long sleeve shirts but he had rolled those up to be able to kneed the dough of the bread he was making, “It’s just from a stunt that i messed up once. Nothing to worry about my dear”

Thiago took a deep breath in. No nicotine hit his lungs but the oxygen worked just fine. “How about this? I’ll let you know everything new i learn about this case. After all i need an expert on eggs, and who’s a better expert than the best egg on the island?”

Hope looked down at her feet bashfully, but with a glow of praise, “you promise?”

Extending out his pinky finger, thiago smiled gently, “of course my dear.”

Hope wrapped her own around it, and the promise was sealed.

#this ones a long one #im sorry i got distracted by arnaldo and thaigo’s relationship #something that happens very often #opqsmpau #gingersp1ce547 #thiago fritz #hope the egg #qsmp hope

9 notes · View notes

fictionwriterthingss · 2 months ago

Text

So you want to write a kidfic

Kidfic, by definition, is a story which focuses on a character, and possibly his or her partner(s), raising a child or children.

What’s so difficult about writing kidfic? Well, nothing, really… if you happen to have children, or spend time around them, such as for babysitting or having a younger sibling, niece, or nephew. For writers without children in their lives, writing kidfic can be a challenge. For the purpose of this post, we’re going to assume that you, the reader, know little to nothing about children – even if you do, just… go with me here. I promise, there’s a method to my madness.

With kidfic, as I’ve said, there are different challenges to face, including milestones and behaviors. People who have children tend to know what kind of milestones their children should be meeting and when, thanks to parenting books – but as writers, we’re not going to run out and buy the first parenting book we can get our hands on, are we? We don’t have children of our own, and then there’s that expectation from the cashier that hey, maybe you’re expecting a new addition to your family, and you don’t really want to explain to them that you’re not and this is all for research, right?

So to save you some time and money, you turn to Google, and Google can be a great resource. Heck, I use it all the time to find out things I need to, and share it with other people that may benefit from the knowledge that I’ve gained. You know… like this blog, for instance.

Back in 2021, I wrote my first kidfic, and I gained a ton of knowledge and experience in writing them to where I have quite a few planned now. While I personally don’t plan to have children in the future, as it’s just something I don’t feel I’m suited for or comfortable with, I think it’s such a neat way to explore family dynamics and how they change. So, here are some of my most valued resources from 2021, when I was writing my first kidfic.

https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/actearly/milestones/index.html - The CDC was a great resource for me with milestones, as this is a government-regulated site with information gathered and fact-checked via multiple, licensed doctors and pediatricians. The CDC website has milestones for the age of 2 months to 5 years, including when babies start to sit up, crawl, speak, eat solids, when they begin speaking full sentences, begin reading, etc. It’s a plethora of wonderful information that is a highly credible source. I solely used this while writing, because my main character had twin toddlers that were a year and a half at the beginning of the story – and the last time I had dealt with a one and a half year old was when I was 15.

https://thenovelsmithy.com/how-to-write-child-characters/ - The Novel Smithy is another blog, though with its own domain address. The Novel Smithy focuses on how to write realistic characters, and what the problem is when adults try to write a child character. Lewis, the author of the article, highlights the importance of perspective for writing child characters, and offers 5 tips on how to write them realistically. I particularly enjoyed how he displays and uses what he calls “jar diagrams” to show how a child might react in a situation, and the level of tolerance said child might have for a situation.

https://allwritealright.com/a-guide-to-writing-child-characters-authentically/ - All Write Alright is another blog with its own domain address. In this one, Jules, the author of the blog, separates the contents into age groups, with “Think, Speak, Behave” topic headings for each group, beginning with toddlers and ending with characters in their late teens. Jules does a great job of highlighting the importance of individuality, all while generalizing an age group into an easy to comprehend guide on “how to” in writing children and young adults in an authentic way.

https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/how-to-write-child-characters/ - Helping Writers Become Authors is another one of those blogs with their own domains. Written by author K.M. Weiland, this site is more of a do’s and don’t’s of writing child characters, highlighted with examples of child character tropes throughout history, such as Shirley Temple and Scout Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird, and the difference in the way their characters were written. Now, while Weiland’s do’s and don’t’s aren’t a rulebook, it can be a helpful guide in how to or how to not exaggerate a child character’s personality.

#fanfic #fantasy #writing #writeblr #briasources #kidfic #kid fic #creative writing #original character #writing guide #writing resources #writing reference #writing tips #writing advice

5 notes · View notes

cloysauce · 6 months ago

Text

With the one and only: My Son Yejin BIFAN chronicles

Last July 8, the media exploded with articles following a talkshow event with Son Yejin a couple days ago.

Typically, I get news about stuff like this from two sources: a Korean news app and a translator (either another app or a friend I follow on Twitter). I'm used to seeing news in the form of a tweet and then retweeting with the necessary bursts of enthusiasm.

So I was quite unprepared to instead be in the exact room where it happens, to sit on one of the clothed chairs of the Hyundai Department Store Jungdong Culture Hall, with just one row of chairs between me and the stage where the actress was speaking herself. It wasn't a phone screen anymore. There's still a surreal state of mind of "How did I get myself into this situation?" that lasts until this day.

I had no plans of flying back to Korea after my visit last August 2023, and if I would I wanted it to be planned more meticulously. That was until May 2024 when BIFAN announced Son Yejin as the main character of their actor retrospective with events (plural) dedicated to her. For 10 days I agonized whether I should go, especially as it will clash with my birthday. Back then, the mere idea of planning an impulsive trip to see Son Yejin was ridiculous, but there was a nagging thought of a challenge and the possibility of something incredible.

At work, I gave a heads up that I plan to be on tentative leave for the first week of July while I quietly gathered documents. Everyone understood it to be my birthday leave and gave me the right to it, but until the last week of June, this out-of-office holiday was left tentative because of many things:

I needed to prepare for a visa

I needed to submit said visa

Said visa must be approved

I then needed to get flights and a hotel booking that wouldn't cost me a leg and arm, which was asking too much with airfares notoriously more expensive the sooner the travel dates are.

More importantly, I needed to somehow grab a ticket for the megatalk event I'm flying for, an exclusive opportunity to be in an audience with the one actress I've watched and adored for years.

There were several barriers to overcome in a span of a little over a month and that put me up with a lot of doubts and hesitations going forward and some personal matters to consider. I asked friends for their opinions; is this a wise move? They all said yes, the enablers they were. (But maybe that's the reason why I sought their opinions)

The visa preparation and application took almost all of June but it was granted, leaving me only a week to grab a hotel and flights. Again for someone who's used to booking at least 2-3 months prior to departure to secure the best prices, this was really stressful. I was very tempted to just say 'screw it,' and just catch the exhibition at a later week or just go to Korea later.

On June 25, I tried ticketing for the BIFAN opening ceremony and failed miserably. Nothing new, I have shit luck with things like this so the pressure was on and the stakes were high considering it will determine my fate on how I will spend my birthday or whether everything was a waste of time and money, and I could only scream about it to a few, including a good friend who would then save my life.

Son Yejin's megatalk ticketing came and I had to lock myself inside a room to ensure full concentration and also because I felt like screaming every now and then. My hands were shaking so badly. Everything was all over in the flash of a minute, and I busted out of the room actually yelling because the odds said: let's give this poor girl a chance to see Son Yejin in the flesh.

And what transpired in the days to follow was nothing short of the stuff dreams are made of.

Last year, I've only seen the waning traces of Crash Landing on You's popularity in the countries I visited. In Seoul, Son Yejin was on a TV cf, an ad on a health supplement kiosk, and a few airport buses in the city. In Tokyo, a few Hyun Bin goods were on sale at Koreatown and luckily his movies finally made it to Japan so there were posters. I saw them in a couple of magazines and memorabilia and that was the fullest extent of their 'influence.'

But if it were in 2021-2022, there would have been a chance to see an exhibition and concert for CLOY in Tokyo and a musical in Seoul.

It seemed I missed the bus to go to these countries while the drama was hugely felt. I found joy in what little there was, better than nothing.

The moment I arrived in Seoul last July 3rd, Son Yejin was already greeting from the airport bus tv, she would say hello again in Myeongdong decorating a jewelry shop. Her movies The Pirates and A Moment to Remember were also on TV. Finally I'm feeling the rockstar effect.

In Bucheon, she was everywhere, in the subway, the mall. It was quite exactly, a Son Yejin festival, and I was in a buffet.

And I'm no longer just an outsider looking through the articles of Naver, but quite in the navel of the action. I watched the BIFAN red carpet event from a train in Seoul and the opening ceremony from the Banpo rainbow bridge and I can't tell you how thrilling these already were even from afar. It hits different versus watching at home at the comfort of my bed, because it's not in an imaginary far-flung place. It's happening right under the same skies, like a concert of an idol at a local concert hall.

One can say it's the closest I felt to attending a concert for a favorite singer.

On July 5, I traveled to Bucheon to see the opening of the exhibition, which I assumed was going to be open-air so there are plenty of chances to see Yejin for the first time.

Bucheon is an hour ride from where I stay so there's some tourist moments. There's a funny story how the train I was in got swapped to an express and I ended up in a different station. On Twitter, pictures of the exhibit start to appear. I thought: 'oh it's just tiny' and I managed my expectations.

I met with a long-time Korean friend, who wasn't a fan but was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Son Yejin. I got some merch ticket to get the chance to get a commemorative booklet and a poster. I didn't even expect to be so lucky to score freebies (and it feels unfair to call them as such because the poster is pretty and the book??? Is worth going to Bucheon for this alone).

My friend spoke with someone in the exhibition and confirmed that Yejin will grace the opening so we made preparations to have lunch. How does one prepare to see a favorite star in the flesh, I wish I knew.

By 3:00 PM, there was a crowd building up and they were setting up these flimsy ankle-height strings that remind me of the Chinese garter street game, intended to be rope barriers. I stood at the west side watching the organizers stretch out a red carpet and set up the ribbon to be cut. Press started coming in and even more people were gathering not just around the exhibition but also the second and third floor balconies.

15-20 minutes later, the crowd got thick and Yejin's bodyguards came in, ordering the crowds to step back. My friend told me they didn't use polite words too, lmao. A bodyguard argued with someone in the crowd who was complaining and threatened to cancel the event if they didn't cooperate akjdasdlk (But that same bodyguard spoke to me and was actually nice, reminding me to just "follow the line, okay?" )

To add to the chaos, the press started to get upset and I'm not sure if it's because some of them didn't have the permit or they were being territorial about vacating their spots, but there was a lot of yelling that led to walk-outs eventually. I was watching this like YIKES but also just standing both horrified and fascinated of what's happening. Like does this happen all the time? lol

Yejin's retinue arrived 10 minutes later and you could tell from the cheers of the people from the back.

(poor quality shot of a high-quality woman)

As a tiny person I had to tiptoe the best of my ability. I saw her coming in from the left side of the exhibition. A friend asked me if she was smaller or taller than I imagined but I don't actually have an answer. I know she wasn't tall tall but she wasn't short too. And the whole time, I was in awe of this woman who wasn't a gif or an HD mp4, but a real live breathing human being. But the confusion was there because wdym she dazzled even more in person? Does her skin have a built-in filter? Son Yejin was ethereally beautiful, with silky-smooth arms and alabaster skin. She wore a welcoming smile from eyebrows to lips that lights up the room. And she readily gave it to everyone who looked her way and makes people the luckiest creatures to be the end-recipient of them. She came in like a breath of fresh air in that humid city, it's unbelievable how she puts cameras to shame.

Unfortunately I was pushed out of my position that all I saw for the majority of the ribbon cutting is the left (stage-right) column of the exhibit lol. But just as well, people took better (less shaky) videos than me anyway. I was happy for whatever glimpse afforded when I lean to the right.

Now I happened to have brought a little gift for her that I had in a pink gift bag. So my mind was also half-watching, half-preparing to give it. After Yejin walked around the exhibit and waved to the fans, she started going back to where she came from. My only thought then is that I came from afar and I don't want to bring that bag again the next day. So out I ran toward the exit (with my friend calling me not to run asldjk) and I found an opening where I could slip in the throng of people waving at her and call her attention. I called twice, "Yejinssi! Yejinssi!" (I wasn't even sure how to call her, it was so crazy). And her manager reached out her hand and I transferred the bag handle to her and I exclaimed my thanks.

What I was not prepared to see was Son Yejin looking at me straight in the eye like there was no one else in that Hyundai mall. With a happy smile, she waved both hands at me and bowed her head with her beautiful straight hair fanning the sides of her face and said "Gomawo." At Me.

If this was an arcade game it would have been a devastating triple combo attack that would have knocked me out.

But the most it did of course is left me too stunned to record anything on camera. Later I would feel stupid for not having at least the video running but please, I couldn't even dare bring up a camera to such a precious face.

So yes, the gift was delivered and even made it in a couple of fancams. My friend comforted me saying at least I have the memory of interacting with Son Yejin when I didn't even expect her to even bat her eyelashes at a random fan like me. And it's true, I didn't expect to receive such a genuine and heartfelt reaction from her.

Now I completely understand why the film critic said, "If Son Yejin gives me her hand, I would do anything for her, even pick out the stars and the moon and give them to her."

With Yejin leaving the building, I went back to the exhibition to the waiting arms of fandom-induced capitalism by purchasing my merchandise. I got the Yejin filmography shirt (which is gonna be like my version of the Eras tour shirt ig), a souvenir badge of her BIFAN event, and a postcard book. I've not opened these, including the commemorative book, to this day. Please give me more time to enjoy their plastic-wrapped newness. Then I figured out with my friend how to take the poster home intact.

(+ a couple of pamphlets from her current jewelry ad campaign)

The exhibit itself, although tiny, was quite touching. With the theme of a blossoming flower, you can chart Yejin's colorful journey as an actress and her unique filmography as she challenged different genres. Ultimately you get the sense of her success and how her hard work paid off after all those years. You could feel immense pride of being there at that moment in her acting history and being a fan of the actress. The video at the middle was poignant with its stop and motion style transitions, and immersed me to a point of tearing up. The constant use of pink (the color often attached to her), the unseen photos, and reading Yejin's own thoughts lend to a warm atmosphere in a showcase that is charming and stylish at the same time.

Randomly, the department store was also next to the Ahn Jung-geum Park which is a very relevant detour to get to know more of the historical figure that Yejin's husband, Hyun Bin, will star next (at the Toronto International Film Festival, too, natch).

Next day is megatalk day. It's quite overwhelming thinking I'll be spending an hour with Son Yejin in the same room. I had my phone ready—not so much to record or take pictures, I'm sure there are probably 10 iPhone 15s in that room—but to transcribe her words and translate them in English.

She came out in a knitted top and jeans which made me think how I'm also up close and personal with her designer clothes and jewelry. But unlike what I was expecting, the talk was not so formal, I thought there would be film professors and critics, but it was really an animated, laid-back conversation. While the megatalk tackled her 23-year long filmography from her debut to the present, she was also sharing about her life experiences and perspectives. She talked about her acting methodology (and crying as she's famous for), some anecdotes of her past works, and what she wants to do next as an actress. And of course, how thankful she is for the fans being the sweetheart she is.

These were the expected topics, which is all well and interesting for me. This is a film festival after all. So imagine my surprise to hear her (and read through the transcription app) discuss a bit of Crash Landing on You and her husband at length. Two topics that I thought are taboo. I was shocked hearing in my own ears - the name Yoon Seri and the word she often describes her relationship with Hyun Bin - 운명 (which any cloy fan would know as fate, destiny.)

(these were her reactions to the hb question 😁😁)

And I felt immediately so incredibly spoiled. It's almost as though she knew it's my birthday and she gave me these gifts, especially as I would not even dream or dare of asking her these knowing how past interviews/fanmeets have filtered such mentions. Because as much as I'm enjoying how she's sharing about her life and her works, I wish her to be comfortable and feel respected above all, especially with how much her boundaries would have been tested those past 3 days.

The talk provided a wide range of topics and it seemed Yejin had a great time herself. There was a group photo (that idk would see the light of day) and the farewell. Yejin was hard to let go, despite knowing how she's given so much time and so much of herself in the past hour. I wished it could go for another hour and another day. But she's been working hard for the past few days and it's enough to see her so happy and fulfilled that day.

For myself, I've somehow managed to connect with her personally even for a few seconds, and I'm grateful how those memories are very much natural and positive. After all, I flew to Seoul with the hopes to see her even from afar, and I got more than that. I'm glad to have bestowed her something, because I truly want her to know how much this random fan, a mere raindrop in the whole ocean, sincerely appreciates her existence and knowing her.

(yejin and me in one frame 😁)

#son yejin #bifan

3 notes · View notes

alstroemeriadissonance · 3 years ago

Note

HJDJSJH I remember reading about Artem's reaction to MC singing along to 34+35 or something like that (I think it was from artemelle?) So could I please request Vyn's reaction to MC/ his s/o singing along to 34+35 by Ariana Grande in this car? I'm just curious to hear your thoughts/headcanons you have, it doesn't have to be a full fanfic or anything. Cheers!

- Krypton

Thank you for feeding the ideas gremlin

I took a bit of liberty to move the setting to NXX Headquarters instead of the car

I'm not too used to headcanons yet so please take this fic

And yes since this is Vyn Richter we're talking about, this is (WARNING: NSFW, do not click, interact if minor etc etc)

Poor Rosa had a tendency to sing out loud the last song she listened to whenever she reached peak stress levels at work.

First, it manifested as a humming as she compiled articles of past cases in Artem's office.

As the hours went on, specifically after Artem had proposed alterations of approach with one of their more difficult clients, song lyrics start to slip out from time to time, as she starts singing under her breath.

Her singing voice wasn't unpleasant, not at all. Sometimes it was a welcome distraction. However she was still in Artem's office, and the eponymous main occupant of the office was also present, bearing witness to Rosa's singing of the word Fuck.

Can you stay up all night

Fuck me til the daylight

34 35

"Good lord." Artem watched Rosa blurt out a pathetic jumble of apologies, excuses, the I'm really sorry it's just that I'm having a bad case of LSS and I can't get it out of my head I'm sorrys before banging the door leading to his office closed behind her.

It took a few seconds to sink in before Artem, his face going beet red, buried his face in his hands.

===

NXX Headquarters. Meeting Room.

Rosa was sure that at 3 PM on a Wednesday, no one was using the premises, and she had exclusive use of the office for the day.

Having worked with the men for months, Rosa already knew their schedules to heart: Luke was away doing NSB duties until well into the evening. Marius would be babysitting the board members of his family conglomerate well until 7 PM. Vyn would be in the university doing lectures, and at 6 PM he would be doing his rounds in his research center. And Artem...she left him back in the office.

And so, she laid out her temporary workstation on the large table, and for good measure, turned up the volume of her laptop's music player.

Her fingertips swiftly flutter across the keyboard, a fierce wave of productivity crashing over her, now that she was comfortable with the fact that there was no one around to bear witness to her embarrassing tendency to sing out loud her stress, lyrics raunchy or not.

Baby you might need a seatbelt when I ride it

I’mma leave it open like a door, come inside it

Even though I’m wifey you can hit it like a side chick

Don’t need no side dick, no

This went on for at least 2 hours.

...

Aaaaaand Save. Rosa smiled, triumphant. It only took her a couple of hours to complete her revisions, with a few more to spare left to unwind.

Fuck me til the daylight

34 35

Means I wanna 69 with ya

Aww shit

It was needless to say that she felt proud of herself. Maybe I should hijack the NXX Headquarters the next crunch ti--

The sound of slow clapping emanated from the other end of the room.

No way.

With an acute feeling of dread thudding her heart against her rib cage, Rosa slowly turned to the source of the sound.

Dr. Vyn Richter was leaning by the open doorway, still wearing his white laboratory coat, a plastic bag of convenience store snacks hanging from his arm. His usual gentle smile was replaced by something quite...unreadable.

"How--how long you've been here?" Rosa stammered, now truly mortified.

"Long enough to hear you sing along to the song on loop at least three times." Still the same unreadable smile obscuring his golden gaze.

Yes, Rosa was now well and truly mortified.

"I do not understand why you should be so flustered. I am already well familiar with your tendency to sing out loud while you are experiencing work-related stress." Vyn's voice was slow and measured, not exactly devoid of warmth, but there was clearly something.

There would be some moments when Rosa--nor anyone else, for that matter--could not figure out what the man was thinking at the time. This would be one of those moments.

Vyn smiled as he placed his plastic bag of convenience store groceries on the table. "Or are you perhaps embarrassed at your choice of music?" He chuckled to himself. "There is no need for that. Do not forget that I dabbled with EDM onstage."

Without waiting for a reply from Rosa, he disappeared into the NXX server room.

A couple of minutes later, the lights in the headquarters had considerably dimmed, as if the main power source has been cut off with the emergency lights taking over the task of illuminating the premises.

Only the server room remained fully functional.

Rosa had noticed that the pilot light of her laptop has gone out as well. Is there a power outage? At this time?

"Vyn," Rosa called out, "I think the power's gone out--"

"Never you worry," Vyn said, his strangely serene smile still on his face as he emerged out of the server room. "That was me.

"I only switched off the main power." Hands in his pockets, he walked slowly towards Rosa. "Let us pick up the conversation again. Why were you so flustered upon finding out that I listened to your singing?"

His steps were slow, languid, and in the sudden dimness of the room his gold eyes flashed.

Just like a cat. A predatory cat.

"Well, um," Rosa was now confused as to why Vyn was insisting on getting an answer on such a trivial question. "Because the lyrics was...was on the lewd side...?"

"Hoh, interesting," Vyn's steps stop right behind Rosa's chair. He then grabbed the backrest of her swivel chair and turned it so she faced him.

"Vyn..." she gulped, her body becoming increasingly hot, the once light, comforting ambiance of having exclusive use of the expansive room now being replaced with a palpable tension caused by the man towering over her.

"If the power is out...the electronic doors wouldn't work, either...?" Rosa asked, slightly unnerved.

"Exactly. No one can go out." Vyn then slams his hands on the table behind Rosa, trapping her in his arms. One of his knees bend and rest on Rosa's chair, right between her thighs.

"And most importantly, no one can come in." His breath, panting ever so slightly, is hot and moist against her ear.

Rosa's eyes widen, finally realizing what was going on. Vyn was actually turned on by the song.

Before the thought fully sinks in Vyn's lips crash onto hers in a violent kiss, his tongue lashing hungrily against hers, their breaths mingling in their heady embrace.

Despite her initial confusion Rosa eventually found herself pulling Vyn by the lapels of his lab coat, returning his kissing with equally heated fervor.

She had yet to fully find out what exactly pushes her lover's buttons, but it was always a welcome break whenever something pushed one of his invisible little switches that turn the generally well-mannered, detached doctor to someone more...primal.

"If I tell you how I want to deal with my work stress, right now," Vyn murmured as he took a break from drawing wet, sloppy circles at the back of Rosa's nape with the tip of his tongue, "will you indulge me?"

Having reduced to putty in his arms, Rosa could only acquiesce. "Mm. Tell me?" She was subconsciously grinding her arousal against Vyn's knee.

Vyn licked his lips with his tongue sensuously, while maintaining eye contact with the woman who drove him quite mad.

"Let us do what you were...singing about."

===

The only sounds that could be heard in the dimly-lit NXX meeting room were muffled moaning and lewd, wet noises.

Vyn had assured Rosa that the power to the CCTV cameras were also cut along with the lights.

So there would be nothing to record the image of them lying on the cold, hard floor, with only Vyn's white lab coat spread out underneath them as a poor replacement for proper bedding.

There should also be nothing to record the unbelievably lewd manner she was grinding her sex against Vyn's hungry mouth, open just wide enough to let his tongue run along the length of her slit while two fingers gently nudge that sweet spot inside her in a maddening rhythm.

"Vyn..." Rosa moaned, feeling that tell-tale heavy, warm sensation gathering heavily in her loins.

The man underneath her pauses long enough to air out his need. "Please..."

Powering through the slowly-building wave of pleasure coursing throughout all her nerves, she lowers her mouth and wraps her wet lips around his shaft, feeling it twitch against the ministrations of her tongue.

She then lifts her lips just enough to let her tongue swirl around Vyn's tip, as her saliva-wet hand strokes the length left neglected by her hot lips.

"Please...do not stop," Vyn's voice was already strained with sheer need, his own hips now grinding against her mouth.

Vyn then switches up the licking to sucking and oh did that send Rosa over the edge with a cry--she was about to momentarily let go of his hardness when his hand firmly pushes her head back down, as he violently shot his seed directly into her throat.

===

The next day, Luke and Marius were going over the control panel in the NXX server room.

"Yeah. I really can't tell what happened for the main power to be cut." Luke said as he inspected the panels, running diagnostics trying to troubleshoot the cause of the mysterious power interruption that was isolated to the NXX meeting room only.

"At least the servers weren't affected." Marius crossed his arms. "This hasn't happened before. I wonder..."

"I will speak with the utility contractor later about this matter," Vyn said as he lifted the little vacuum robot out of its spot just right underneath one of the server racks. "Oh? This is a rather odd place for this thing to wander in."

Marius's brows furrowed. "Strange," then to Luke, he asked "Do you think this little guy may have tripped over something and caused the power to go out?"

"Mm. Dunno, can't say anything definite yet."

"Ah, poor little thing," Rosa cooed at the vacuum robot as she took it from Vyn's arms. "Being blamed for something...naughty."

#tears of themis #tot vyn #vyn richter #vyn richter x reader #mo yi #tears of themis smut #tot smut

197 notes · View notes

justiceleaque · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Leaque! I know you watched the new Justice League movie and I was around when you were doing the very first DC movie reviews back in the day. I would absolutely love a review of this one if you have the time :)

i've been a fan of Snyder's universe from day 1 so i understand this might be considered an off-balance review already, but i want to note that i didn't come in wanting the film to be good or willing to see it as good despite actual impressions. i wanted to watch it as the Justice League movie i was supposed to get back in 2017, the same one i was willing to not watch for years if it meant Zack Snyder got to finish his vision even later down the line

i was actually as neutral as i could possibly get because at this point i don't have any real emotional involvement in whether this version of the DCEU continues or not. WB execs have done some fucked up things with the treatment of the cast/ray fisher, so i take this as Snyder's DC trilogy and nothing more (which makes it bittersweet for me but that's a different topic)

heavy spoilers follow

it's incredibly comic book-like. i remember typing the exact same words back in the Dawn of Justice days: it doesn't read as a superhero film a la Marvel but as a comic book film. each frame could be a realistically painted comic book frame; the dialogues would fit freakishly well if they had to fit speech bubbles. the damn scene overlaps and changes are heavily reminiscent of a comic book. better yet: of a Justice League comic book. if you’re familiar with comic book events where big things happen and it affects everyone, this is how this reads

it’s a heavy film but it’s not hopeless. i’ve been seeing reviews pop-up already: “ZS’s Justice League film is twice as longe and twice as hopeless” is the maybe verbatim title of most articles. the one thing i kept thinking throughout these four hours is how much hope this is filled with. we’re dealing with a post-superman world that was shaken by the loss of a beloved superhero and you see batman, the #1 comic book superhero known for brooding and darkness and all things sad and bad, be the loudest, most hopeful person in the film, trying to get a team together to save the world, and later on being two steps from literally screaming that bringing back superman is what should happen no matter the cost because of his faith and hope in winning. did we watch the same film?

in the same vein, the 4 hours seem like a stretch until you realize each part has an actual purpose that introduces or ties in important aspects related to the film’s one purpose: take down Steppenwolf and Darkseid. i don’t believe any scene was wasted on useless information. it can get tiring in the way watching a shot tv series gets tiring: it does NOT get boring at any point

such wonderful character arcs. seeing each of the team’s personalities and quirks, the way they clash with each other, the way it makes it all work so goddamn beautifully. the way they click because they just keep interacting so much? Whedon’s cut didn’t give me a team, it gave me five different people in costume that were forced to sort of work in the same vicinity as each other. Snyder’s cut gave me a version of the Justice League that worked so flawlessly together by the end of the film it felt like a dance. felt like comic book page spreads

right before the epilogue they all pose together in the rising dawn, clark included, having won. super reminiscent of the JL cartoon intro. i cried a bit

J’ONN J’ONZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO YOU KNOW THE AMOUNT OF SPECULATION ABOUT GENERAL SWANWICK BEING THE MARTIAN MANHUNTER BACK WHEN MAN OF STEEL WAS RELEASED???? VINDICATED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

listen to me. i need to make this clear. listen. j’onn. j’onny boy. the way he’s designed and cgi’d..........the adorable frown............the kind smile......................his obvious need to make others feel better and to simply help......................i love him

his interaction with bruce only comes in the end and it’s super brief but seeing those two still not know how the hell each other works even in film format is hilarious. bruce having accepted aliens and magic and shit is the new norm after like 20 years of only having to deal with the joker attempting to rob neon green hair dyes or some shit is so much bigger of a character development than i ever expected, especially coming from BvS where he’s just a stupid fat-bat-carrying onion

i wasn’t a big fan of Suicide Squad’s joker portrayal but we get to see him at the end of the film while we’re seeing a possible future where lois lane has died and superman is best friends with darkseid playing tic-tac-antilife equation. Snyder somehow managed to turn jared leto into a disgustingly legit comic-faithful joker. dont’ ask me how

in the same scene they mention jason and his death

: - (

we see a few bits of some green lanterns in some scenes, one from the past and one from a possible ultra dark and edgy darkseid future. still convinced bruce simply willingly did not go looking for hal, which, fair

they cut out the fish joke bruce tells arthur when they first meet which immediately turns the whole film into a 1/10 for me

ben affleck’s bruce wayne and batman continue being my favorite on-screen batman iteration to date. we finally move from the usual dark lone soldier version Hollywood is relentlessly giving us into one that belongs with the Justice League. incredibly heartwarming to see

there’s a scene when the JL are first assaulting Steppenwolf’s base and they’re all fighting parademons and shit and there’s a moment where you see batman fighting the Space SWAT From Hell alone and the way he moves? the way he flows from one position to another and another like i’m watching a damn comic book animation????????? sir????????????????????

barry allen saved them

like, literally, barry allen saved them. superman was back and everyone was ready to dance one final time and they were all going ‘steppenwolf fucking SUCKS’ and steppenwolf was crying to darkseid and then the motherboxes did their thing and they all were obliterated into star dust and then barry allen was like ‘bitch i told you i need FRIENDS’ and turned back time and now they’re all okay again :o)

darkseid @ batman through his magic spacetime portal: i’m gonna get your ass one day soon and take you back in time and you’re gonna eventually bring about the end of the world by having every dark twisted batman invade your universe because you inspired them

batman:

batman: i haven’t read Rebirth bro

i know i’m forgetting stuff but that’s the gist. hands down one of the best comic book film experiences i’ve ever had. with an aside to barry allen being more of a mix of barry and wally, everyone feels incredibly faithful to the source material. also batman definitely killed like, at least 400 parademons in one night, but pest control doesn’t count

(like. he straight up obliterates them)

(pulls out a batbazuka on them)

(amazing)

#Anonymous #asks #zack snyder's justice league #zack snyder's justice league spoilers #JL spoilers #justice league spoilers #/ long post

266 notes · View notes

7-wonders · 4 years ago

Text

The Trouble With Wanting

Summary: Though life has changed for you, for the rest of the world, everything remains the same.

Word Count: 1.3K

Author's Note: Hello yes it's the beginning of Act II of Mad Love. Buckle up. Special shoutout to @mrslangdonn for being so pumped for this and making an actual meme. Really hope I didn't let you down with this.

Mad Love Act I here!

In the grand scheme of things, life has been oddly normal lately. Since being kidnapped by witches, saved by your Antichrist husband, admitting that you actually do love said Antichrist husband, and realizing that you’re potentially the only thing that can stop the end of times, the world continued turning and the days marched on. Michael did what he normally did during the days (you don’t really know what it is he does, to be honest. Probably just talking to rich people all day), and you did too. Life continued as it had been, even though it felt like your world had been changed numerous times lately. Honestly, you had expected things to be a lot more dramatic.

But no, life was almost boring now. Mallory had gone back to New Orleans to handle being the Supreme and running her coven, so besides the texts and phone calls with her to try and figure out how to convince Michael that ending the world wasn’t the right course of action to take, the vigilante talk was almost non-existent in your day-to-day life. That was also because neither of you had any idea how to actually put this plan into action. There had been ideas, of course, but none that held any weight. That may be because the best idea either of you had had was a Powerpoint that showed all of the reasons why ending the world was a bad idea, but in your opinion that was still an idea that was on the table.

Also, you assumed that professors wouldn’t take “preoccupied by your husband’s plans for world domination” as a proper excuse for you not completing your work or showing up to class. At the very least, with how turbulent your life had been, you had expected far less homework than what you’re staring at right now.

You’re sitting in your room, doing some reading for class. Surprisingly, the reading isn’t that boring. It’s certainly not fun to do, which is probably why you hear the music right away; your attention absolutely is not all that focused tonight. It catches you entirely off-guard, considering that there’s no speakers in your room and you definitely did not have any music playing from your phone. You listen for a moment, trying to place the melody.

“Is this Frankie Valli?” you question, standing up from your bed and trying to find the source. Opening up your door to see if this is an isolated incident, you find that the music is drifting throughout the house. ‘Drifting’ is probably the wrong word, since it literally sounds like there’s speakers playing “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” that are installed in every room and hallway.

“Hi,” you say, finally coming across Michael in the living room. He’s standing there nonchalantly, which you automatically know means that he’s involved in this.

“Hi,” Michael says right back.

“Uh, what’s with the music?”

“Well, I was on my phone earlier, and I came across an article.”

Smiling, you step towards him. “You did?”

He nods. “I did, and it was extremely informative. Did you know that married couples typically have a reception after they officially get married? Apparently, they share a first dance at the reception.”

“And you believe everything you read on the internet?”

“Sometimes, if there’s some truth to what I’m reading.” You stare at him, biting back a laugh. “We’re married.”

“We are married.”

“We didn’t have a first dance when we got married.”

“No, we did not.”

Finally, Michael sighs, tired of you playing dumb. “(Y/N), may I have this dance?”

You grab Michael’s outstretched hand, letting him pull you towards him. One hand goes onto your waist, the other intertwined with yours. He begins to lead you in a simple waltz, and you’re thankful that he knows how to dance because you sure don’t. “I didn’t know you knew this song,” you comment when you realize he’s humming.

“I enjoy the classics.”

“There’s this scene from a movie, where one of the main characters--”

“You’re talking about 10 Things I Hate About You, right?” You raise an eyebrow in questioning, and he chuckles. “Madelyn loved ‘90s rom coms, and sometimes I was bored enough that I would watch them with her.”

“I’m a little impressed.”

Michael spins you around. “You should be.”

The romanticism of the whole situation is almost overwhelming. It doesn’t matter that you’re in your living room instead of a reception hall, wearing sweatpants instead of a wedding dress. You’re here with Michael, and just that is romance enough for you. You could stand here like this, with him, forever if he asked you to do so.

“What if we had an actual wedding?” Michael asks.

“We did have an actual wedding.”

“I mean one where you actually have a say in it.”

“Well that’s sweet of you, Michael, but you still haven’t taken me on a proper date.”

“My apologies.” He dips you, kissing you before bringing you back up. “How’s Paris for a first date? Maybe Greece?”

You gasp. “Seriously?”

“Absolutely. Wherever you want, whenever you want, however you want.” He punctuates each scenario with a kiss, making your body melt into him. The song ends, the house falling into silence before the music begins to repeat. But neither of you are paying attention to that any more, not when he’s staring at you in a way that makes heat pool in the bottom of your stomach.

“Michael,” you whisper, tilting your head up to kiss him again.

He reciprocates, trailing kisses down your jaw and onto your throat as his hands move up and down your sides. All too soon, he pulls away, making you groan in disappointment. “We shouldn’t, you know…”

“I know,” you lean your head against his chest with a sigh.

Of course. The main issue that’s been prevalent on both yours and Michael’s minds for weeks now: you’re married and you love each other, but sex is...not going to happen for the time being. You both absolutely, 100% want to, but, as with most things in your life, Satan seems to be the major roadblock. You just never thought that your father-in-law (who you’ve still never met) would end up cockblocking you.

Just because Michael made sure that you wouldn’t be under Satan’s influence, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t stop trying. If anything, he’s going to try even more now that both of you had openly defied his will. And what was the one thing that Satan wanted besides the end of the world? For Michael to have an heir. And you didn’t trust any sort of contraception when it came to the supernatural powers that you had been married into. Michael completely agreed with that, especially since he knew first-hand just how easily material things (like condoms and all of the various forms of birth control) could be manipulated. So for now, until you could figure out a way to safely get it on, sex was off the table. Unfortunately.

“I’m going to go finish my reading, then.” Slowly, because neither of you particularly want to, you disentangle yourself from him.

“And I’m going to...take a shower. A cold shower.” You laugh at him, but you’re really in the same position that he is.

“Have a good night,” you say, bounding up the stairs before you can stop yourself.

“You too.” Michael also goes up the stairs, and you shut your door before you have to say something to him again. You still keep separate bedrooms, partly because you really enjoy your space and partly because you know that, given the opportunity to be laying in a bed with Michael when you’re both horny, you would totally let him fuck you.

Sliding your back down the door, you groan as you hold your head in your hands. Saving the world from the apocalypse is definitely difficult. Having to stop yourself from having sex with your incredibly hot husband? Well, that feels impossible.

Tag List (starting from scratch because I need a new tag list so message me if you want to be tagged!): @michaellangdon @trelaney @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @blakescoven @we-did-it-joe @thatonehumanbeing05 @michaellangdonstanaccount

#mad love #michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse #ahs #ahs imagine

170 notes · View notes

herstarburststories · 4 years ago

Text

illicit love

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader

Summary: Jensen loves you, but sometimes love isn’t the right thing.

A/N: Hey, guys! All we needed was a newish fic to say that I was really back, here it is! This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr 6k challenge. So glad you got to another millestone, honey. It's like I was posting my part for your 5k celebration just yesterday! xD Prompt in bold.

Warnings: age gap, cheating

Jensen Ackles kept squinting through the bricks of his memory in an attempt to recall where it all began. Maybe it was when he drove off the road he had known for years with the dumbfounded desire to take the trails yet traveled, threading his fingers through your hair on the night of September 7th. He could’ve chosen the easy out and say it all started to crumble with the first kiss, but no. The actor, father, and now horrible husband highly doubted that. No, as he unwound the convoluted wires in his mind, it wasn’t the first clandestine meeting that he saw as the beginning, not the first kiss or the primal stolen glances. It wasn’t even the lies or the way he pushed his body against yours in an act of illicit faith.

Like any grand mistake, it was way before that. Just like how the church not-so-gently advised, it all starts with craving something you never thought you would want.

It happened when he landed the job in a new series after leaving a fifteen-year-long rollercoaster, pushing away any real witness to the fact the old show that swallowed part of his soul was over. There was a certain shock of excitement misplaced by the fact he was going to be working with Eric again, and that the show was an abrupt change considering what he had been doing previously. Now, he believed it was his body’s particular way of telling him that — as the savage animals can sense rain or a calamity — this, baby, this is gonna change your life.

JENSEN ACKLES CAST AS SOLDIER BOY!

‘’Since when have you read comics?’’ Jensen arched his messy eyebrows at Dee’s curiosity about the Homelander and Soldier Boy panel making it to the screen. Shaking the comic book in his right hand slightly, he continued: ‘’Especially that kind.’’

‘’Never,’’ Danneel stated plainly, “but I have Google. It was pretty much the first thing that appeared.’’

‘’Well, Eric said that scene won't be on the screen. Besides, the portrayal won't be that Soldier Boy, but the original one who died in the war. ‘Course, he wouldn’t have died there in our show, but it ain’t the panel one.’’ He shrugged, bringing her closer to his side as she snuggled against him. ‘’There’ll be a bunch of Herogasm, which is basically drugs and sex. Just not with Homelander.’’

Danneel nodded at his explanation, humor clinging to her words as she added: ‘’Guess the only man I have to share you with is still Jared.’’

‘’Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into.’’ Jensen scoffed playfully before kissing her cheek. ‘’Can't wait to start the show.’’

Jensen leaned forward to rest the comic that he had been religiously studying to form a psychological character profile on the dashboard of the Impala. The actor was spending plenty of hours inside his most palpable Supernatural souvenir -- Baby. His safe place. He sure as hell needed one of those, as molding a whole character that has a bunch of source material wasn’t as easy as he pictured. With Dean, he was putting himself and the script in one until it made his imaginary best friend. It was love at the first sight. Soldier Boy, however, was a long story short. Jensen figured he should do both, honor the character created and add his own special ingredients to it. It was a brand new kind of passion that he hadn’t done for a series in the longest time. Still, his glance trailed back to the woman by his side in the backseat.

‘’Let's hope it won't last another decade,” she mocked.

Jensen shook his head with a chuckle, relaxing against the leather seat. Even the mere smell of the Impala was enough to settle his nerves. ‘’Eric has plans for five seasons.’’

Danneel’s features contorted as if having war flashbacks. Sort of. She never imagined Supernatural would make it that far, and now with three kids, signing on for another excessively time-consuming idea for a new show didn’t seem too appealing either. Yet, she would support Jensen in any decision he’d take regarding his job. “Remind me the last time I heard that line before?”

‘’Come on.’’ He let out a wry huff, poking her side in a playful manner. She couldn't help but laugh, returning the gesture with tickles to start a very light-hearted battle. He seemed happy with the new job, something Danneel truly thought he would have more difficulty with. She’d pushed her weathered worries away with his easy-going laughter for now.

SOLDIER BOY’S LOVE INTEREST?

Eric Kripke threw the gossip magazine on the table, his eyes not straying from his long-time friend’s. He could’ve simply added the digital article to an irate email and be done with it, but he was a simple man with extravagant taste. That had been usual through his whole career, especially regarding the Supernatural aesthetic. Yet, in those mundane situations, Jensen almost found it too much. That wasn’t the case, though. If anything, the plain, yet still overpowering words that his green eyes scanned made his body sweat. He could even hear his organs working from the absolute silence of the blame that covered the room. Kripke’s room had never seemed more like an interrogation chamber than now.

The magazine in question held Jensen and your picture on the cover, his arms wrapped around your torso as he pulled you close. The most sequin smile hung from your lips like happiness was something that could be touched on that sunny day in the private park near the studio. Giant and garish letters made the headline along with the subline: Jensen Ackles wearing his Soldier Boy costume caught sharing a passionate kiss with the new arrival of The Boy’s Team: Y/N Y/L/N, also known on-screen as Cangaceira!

His voice came out as an accusation: ‘’What’s this, Jensen?’’

‘’We were…’’ The director just waved his hand to interrupt.

‘’Don’t try saying you were practicing a scene because I wrote the Soldier Boy and Cangaceira kiss, and it wasn’t here.’’ Acid tainted his words with no space for fake niceties on his set. Jensen remained in the chair, not even daring to make the most subtle move. Eric knew where he was hitting, and Ackles deserved a punch in the jaw. “The sex scene wasn’t here either, but you two added a lot of erotic subtext. Trust me, I know.’’

His shoulders fell in exhaustion. ‘’Eric…’’

‘’You’re lucky we were going to make those two a couple anyway. I can just put the kiss here and save your ass. What if that wasn’t the case, huh?’’ the director continued, more interested in spilling out his anger than listening to dumb excuses. ‘’What about Danneel, Jensen? You have a wife and kids, for God’s sake!’’

The breaking point. Jensen rose to his feet with sudden frustration, a growl leaving his lips as he pushed the chair to the side with uncharacteristic brutality. How could Eric bring up his family like this? And how could Jensen’s heart not bring them up when he kissed you before? It was all a fucking mess, and he had no choice but to choke down whatever came out of it, even if it was poison and spite.

‘’Fuck, Eric! Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think it doesn’t pull me apart every time I go home and know I’m lying to the people who love me?’’ The vein on his neck popped as he spoke, emotion gushing thicker through his arteries than blood. Woe remerged under his skin as he swallowed dryly, resting his hands on the table and looking down. That wasn’t him. He had done a lot of things that weren't him lately. ‘’I have enough guilt here, pal.’’

Eric just glared down at the man’s outburst, furrowing before asking, ‘’What’s going on, Jay? You don’t just get up and cheat on your wife. That ain’t you.’’

He shook his head. ‘’I don’t know. Y/N’s just…’’

‘’At least 20 years younger than you,” he stated. ‘’Just starting her career and might be getting the homewrecker title if someone finds out.’’

‘’I won’t let that happen.’’

‘’How? You are gonna be more careful or will you cut it out and go back to your wife and three kids?’’ When Ackles didn’t respond, Eric sighed. ‘’Just stop this, Jensen. Let her go.’’

Jensen scoffed humorlessly. ‘’I can’t.’’

Kripke felt like talking to a teenager. He shook his head as he got up. ‘’Do you have any idea what you’re doing here? This could destroy your family, destroy Y/N’s chance to make a name when you already have your own. That’s selfish in all proportions, Jensen!’’

‘’I know, I know.’’

‘’She deserves more than this and —’’

‘’I know.’’

‘’You are gonna mess up everyone’s lives —’’

‘’I know!’’ He slammed the table and winced, turning around with his hands on his head. If only he could stop his thoughts for a second and reorganize his feelings. ‘’Do you think it doesn’t rip my heart out that I can’t love her?’’

‘’Who?’’ The burning question was ready to set everything ablaze. ‘’You can’t love Y/N, or you can’t love your wife anymore, Jensen?’’

He couldn’t love you in public. He couldn’t love Danneel anywhere. Love just escaped through his reaches when you spoke his name like a prayer, and it was time to accept that.

‘’Both.’’

NO CHICK FLICK MOMENTS: SOLDIER BOY AND CANGACEIRA TALK ABOUT WHAT TO EXPECT FROM THEIR RELATIONSHIP

‘’It's amazing to portray with Jensen. I’ve watched Supernatural since I was like twelve, which probably isn't advisable.’’ You chortled, answering the reporter’s question. Your body could barely contain your excitement under your skin, although, why would you want that? You did it. You got the job you had dreamed and worked hard for. To a bonus, you were working with Jensen Ackles! If there was someone that had earned the right to scream to the sky until your face was the color of the red carpet your heels currently stood on, it was you. ‘‘I was even a Samgirl!’’

Jensen faked a gasp next to you, a light spectrum surrounding the interview. ‘’Really? Me too!’’

You pushed his shoulder playfully while he chuckled. ‘’Anyway, I'm very excited to be here and portray a strong latina superhero. The representation’s very important, and to be able not only to cherish it, but to be a part of it doing what I love and inspiring people like me is… mythical.’’

‘’Wow, woman!’’ Ackles pursed his lips, clapping a little before shifting his gaze from you to the reporter. ‘’She likes the big words. I swear, dude. She’ll just come and in like, a casual conversation, say something like gelid or whilst, and then she's gonna say dumbass. Both sound smart as heck.’’

You winked. ''It's the accent. Makes everything sound nice.”’

Jensen nodded but was quick to sprinkle in an incendiary remark to his compliments. ‘’Yeah, I have never seen someone confuse coach and couch before. Go sit on the coach got a lot of wrong ideas.’’

‘’Hey, you sat on the coach!’’

‘’Because I’m a good boy.’’

You rolled your eyes despite the grin on your lips. ‘’Sure, mister hours-to-get-ready.’’

‘’Hey, plenty of face masks are needed to keep this — ’’ He pointed at his face. ‘’at fourteen.’’

‘’All I hear is that you’re old.’’ Your eyebrows knitted together. Jensen licked his lips at the sight. On any other day, he’d pick you up, say I’m gonna show you who’s old, and enjoy where your teasing had gotten you two, but he couldn’t do it now. You’d get what was coming to you after the event, perhaps even under the table if your dress allowed it, or in the bathroom, if you kept going.

The mischievous smirk on your cherry-stained lips proved that you knew what was going through his mind. God, you were his sweet death. Nonetheless, Jensen sighed dramatically and looked at the camera. ‘’This is what I have to deal with every day.’’

The reporter went on, happily surprised about how comfortable you and Jensen seemed together. Usually, new coworkers were timider around each other during interviews, especially when they were a romantic pair. The journalist decided to try getting a little sneak peek of the couple aspects of Soldier Boy and Cangaceira.

‘’It's definitely interesting.’’

‘’But not in the best way.’’ The only thing more messed up than Jensen’s relationship with you was the correlation between your characters. At least you and he had the purity of love, even if it was twisted enough to turn heads and churn stomachs

‘’Certainly not in the best way.’’ You agreed, bringing him back into reality as always. ‘’It's really nice to explore a couple that doesn't consist of two white people getting to it like most main characters of the shows in our current climate. It’s not the kind of relationship you should be rooting for — not because it's interracial or anything, that's pretty much the biggest, if not only, positive aspect about those two — but because they aren’t healthy at all, just as all main relationships in our show. It's not a romance series, and we certainly don't treat our couples like it.’’

‘’Told you she is the beauty and the brains.’’ His cheeks dimpled with joy and pride as he looked at you. Jensen knew how excitedly nervous you were about that interview. He couldn’t wait to tell you how great you were like you were born to sell dreams and magazines. ‘’But yeah, it’s a messed up relationship like any other in The Boys. After all, it's not a respectful, wholesome show. It's about gritty superheroes that ain’t got heroism. Soldier Boy isn't a good guy, and it translates in his relationship too.’’

You nodded in agreement, brushing his arm to keep you sane. ‘’It’ll be an interesting dynamic to see on-screen to our show standards, but it's not an actual picture of how a relationship should be.’’

THE BOYS 100TH EPISODE PARTY!

The glimmer of his green comet eyes caught your undivided attention in the throngs of people. The crowd had gathered for his family, his arm around his wife's waist as you both shared a tender, stolen look. You savored her wine and yearned for the man in her arms.

It was just a small celebration due to COVID’s lasting effects on public events. People from the set and their significants together were in the Ackles house for a couple of drinks, small talk, and a cake with The Boy’s comics printed on it.

‘’Aunt Y/N!’’ JJ tugged your dress, her mix of Danneel and Jensen’s features almost haunting your soul. Almost. You would never despise a kid for that — you didn’t even have the right to. If anything, JJ was the one that would graduate to hating you someday. You didn't have enough youthful stupidity not to know the risks of being in love with a married man. ‘’Auntie!’’

You leaned in the most that you could with the red skirt, glancing at the child. ‘’Yes, honey?’’

‘’That’s my new Barbie! I bought a beach one! She looks like you!’’ the blonde kid said with a childish joy that ached in your heart. You could end up destroying her family’s stability if Jensen went any further, yet there she was; buying dolls that looked like you and so happily babbling about it.

You were a monster. Love opened you up and planted greedy seeds, and now you were a monster growing like a beautiful tree that could never be strong enough to hold a kid as they climbed up. The fact that you could sense Jensen’s eyes on your ass didn’t help one bit.

‘’She does! That’s so cute, JJ.’’

‘’You can be her. I have one who looks like mommy, I’ll be her, ‘kay?’’

Your nausea was replaced by a pageant smile and a nod, and so you spent the night sharing longing stares with the dad and playing dolls with the daughter. It was a role that was never yours.

ILLICIT AFFAIR? JENSEN ACKLES SEEN ON THE BEACH WITH Y/N Y/L/N

‘’I can’t believe you did this to me, to our family,‘’ Danneel screamed exasperatedly as she threw her clothes in a bag and heart on the wall. Jensen just stood there, accepting the deserved fury. ‘’Ten years of my life, Jensen, and you just threw it away for a mistress! I gave up on my job to be a stay at home mom because you didn’t want a babysitter. I supported you in every moment. I loved you!’’

‘’I’m sorry…’’

‘’You don’t get to be sorry,” she howled, glaring at him with the hatred of an overthrown nation. She felt like he got to the podium and forgot to say her name. ‘’You let that woman get in my house, drink my wine, talk to my children…’’

Reflexively, he said, ‘’Our.’’

‘’Shut the fuck up! There’s no ours anymore, no us!’’ Her words had garnered a learned violence, much louder than the sound of the zipper closing her duffel bag. She threw the CC exclusive on the floor, holding onto the handle for dear life. He didn’t deserve to see her breaking, only her anger. ‘’You destroyed our family, you destroyed me!’’

He pleaded, unable to discern if it was for her or the guilt: ‘’Dee.’’

‘’I hope you’re happy. I hope you go to her, get her to sleep on our bed, and be happy for a month.’’ She gulped, pursing her lips. Her glossy eyes coupled with the pink hue of her lipstick brought back a treacherous memory of their wedding day. ‘’And then, I hope she cheats, like you did to me.’’

The next headline didn’t call it love.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡

TAGS IN REBLOG!

WANNA BE TAGGED? SEND ME AN ASK/DM

324 notes · View notes

miniwolfsbane · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Tooth S1 thoughts (BIG SPOILERS)

First off, I am disappointed we were shown a PURRING PUPPY BABY in the trailer and had 0 follow up with it? Did he/she escape to Istanbul with it’s parents? Get captured? Live a nomadic life? Live in the forest? I WANT ANSWERS!! :( Also, puppies don’t purr, so I want answers to that too. Unless they were trying to go for a whimper or an animal noise and just went with that instead.

BIG SPOILERS under the cut

Anyway, the only two things, aside from the bits of gore and violence (Reviews are all like “IT’S A FAMILY SHOW!” And I counter back with “I would not let any child under 13 watch this and I have never seen a family show with three seconds of guts being removed and two scenes of implied, live vivisecting on sentient beings without anesthetic.”), the only things I didn’t like about this were using 2 overused cliche’s. One being the hero hanging off a bridge for what seems like 12 years above peril, and the other I can’t remember. It was Jeppard nearly missing the train. The only thing that saved it was the flashback.

The other thing was that, while dark, there’s a bit of predictably and not much depth to the story. I realized last night that the comic source material my have the depth I’m craving out of the story. Just because it has child actors doesn’t mean the story can’t be dug into deeper and have more meaning. I applaud them for what they did and how they handled it, mixing in human-ish vivisecting with neighbors burning down their friends houses and being murderous hypocrites into a story about children, but it wasn’t enough for me. I wanted more. Edit: Not more violence, obviously, just more to the story. dig into the universe, hard. Like gardening, just shove both metaphorical hands into that story soil and root around in it. Find all the gems that are the interesting parts of this universe and answer our questions.

Sadly, I see someone on tumblr called it...something. Like, were we even watching the same show?? A multi-racial cast that gives all it’s characters dignity isn’t...that.

Bobby isn’t creepy to most and not shown that much. If you really think Bobby is that creepy, you need to go see original Bobby and get back to me. https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=mv4YBZHa&id=071BD6BDAA183CA5965247E7F8F68E873375399B&thid=OIP.mv4YBZHau8dTzxGoK0L0ggHaHD&mediaurl=https%3A%2F%2Fvignette.wikia.nocookie.net%2Fmarvel_dc%2Fimages%2Ff%2Ffc%2FBobby_Sweet_Tooth_001.jpg%2Frevision%2Flatest%3Fcb%3D20150813115735&cdnurl=https%3A%2F%2Fth.bing.com%2Fth%2Fid%2FR9afe180591dabbc753cf11a82b42f482%3Frik%3Dmzl1M4eO9vjnRw&pid=ImgRaw&exph=616&expw=647&q=sweet+tooth+comics+bobby&simid=608026455638091252&ck=7A4DBACCF6BFE43E3B1E799F7F88C55A&selectedindex=0&adlt=demote&shtp=GetUrl&shid=3fb5000d-4d63-494a-986d-006fedeb28d5&shtk=Qm9iYnkgKFN3ZWV0IFRvb3RoKSB8IERDIERhdGFiYXNlIHwgRmFuZG9t&shdk=Rm91bmQgb24gQmluZyBmcm9tIGRjLmZhbmRvbS5jb20%3D&shhk=NjRWN4Jv1KDrxu8T30I3UN0IQ71oVtCAEnsLIeSmFl4%3D&form=EX0023&shth=OSH.nyb0RMh%252Bnm%252B%252B%252FIH1cnkhHw

Okay, kid does sorta look like a gremlin mixed with a Furby in the show, like one post said, but I’ve seen worse. https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=F9mlBjUo&id=49C0257935E4A941563E579C7E9DCF48B72BEC01&thid=OIF.eyTVbAuEqt0R%2bKFmrIK4gA&mediaurl=https%3a%2f%2fepipoca.com.br%2fwp-content%2fuploads%2f2021%2f06%2fE3NUK2kVoAE5Ct_.jpg&cdnurl=https%3a%2f%2fth.bing.com%2fth%2fid%2fR17d9a5063528805f1ade0ea77464df86%3frik%3d%26pid%3dImgRaw&exph=675&expw=1482&q=sweet+tooth++Bobby&simid=297111136187&ck=7B24D56C0B84AADD11F8A166AC82B880&selectedIndex=49&FORM=IRPRST&ajaxhist=0&ajaxserp=0

Sometimes stuff goes over my head. I had no idea that the babies were being born and not made in a lab. When they showed them in the maternity ward, I genuinely thought they had been experimented on and didn’t come out of the womb like that. Apparently I missed that it was a maternity ward in a hospital. That’s my other problem with this show I forgot to mention: It defies logic and you really have to turn off your brain to accept the hybrid concept. I’m guessing the virus or other means (possibly according to the comics, I tried to avoid big spoilers), mutated them in utero. That still doesn’t satisfy me. Thankfully, Gus was somehow lab created, so that helps. (More information and context would be appreciated. Was it, like, they were experimenting with in-vitro or what?) Edit: This article https://screenrant.com/sweet-tooth-theory-purple-flowers-cure-sick-virus/ explains that putting the virus in a chicken egg produced Gus. Which makes even less sense. Edit: This MAY or MAY NOT be right. Someone on YT pointed out they never said this in the show.

IRL, Virus + chicken embryo=would never randomly produce a human/deer hybrid baby. It’s so freaking random it sounds like nonsense or the delusions of a madman, not a rational comic book author with a presumably sane mind. Just...I’ve said it before...things have to make sense, even in fiction. 5 step process of anything cannot equal random result. It goes against all science, right? And made up worlds have to have rules, even silly worlds. Like I said, you have to turn your brain off, but this stretches even my disbelief. Hybrids, I get, fine, but that? I’m sorry, what? *headdesk* I don’t know, maybe the comics had something I’m missing since I never read them.

I’m eager to learn the connection to the kids and the virus as we go. And if we don’t get a season 2, I’ll be getting the comics to satisfy my thirst for this show.

Gus is my baby and I don’t understand how a kid could be that cute. Jeppard is the GOAT (lol) Bear could use better line delivery at times, but her acting will improve I’m sure. Nice to see Diana Ramierez acting again, her character is likeable. Wendy is cute, but kinda just there for me. Needs more traits or character development to get on my favorite characters list. Bear also needs more than just backstory and a tough girl persona. She’s not bland, she just needs more spark to her as a character. More personality, if that makes sense.

Lastly, I wanted a tiny bit more from the make-up department. Wendy and rabbit kids (yes, I took note of this detail and I love bunnies) make-up is on point, but the rest look like kids dressed up in dollar store feathers and fur for a school play. Get more creative if you’re gonna show these hybrids, even if it’s just for a few seconds. You have the budget!! (But I think most of that went to Bobby’s puppetry/CGI and Jeppard’s baby, to be honest.)

I wanted a cat girl or boy, because the lulz for the anime community (Also, because I have 2 cats and stuff), but at least we got bird kids, even if they weren’t cockatiels like mine. I’m ready for Season 2, hurry Netflix!!

I can see why people wouldn’t like this show or wouldn’t recommend watching it, but I see many have embraced it. It’s either you’re thing or it’s not, but you should give it a chance and see. Just don’t shoot it down if you hate it, there’s enough wet blankets out there and we all have different tastes.

Edit: One last thing. I do have a problem with hybrids being half-human. Like, you would think that being half-human, they’d still have all the problems humans have with causing wars and all. I know it’s a dark story with a good outcome, but there’s something too saccharine about hybrids having “The best parts of us.” What exactly are those best parts? Last I checked, humans are selfish and vain at their core. Even the most altruistic, giving person can be greedy about something or want more. It’s like Genie said in the new Aladdin, “You can have all the money and power in the world and it still won’t be enough”. Wouldn’t bird people and pig people and deer people all want to side with each other instead of living in some grand utopia? Fighting over land and resources? Portraying hybrids as taking over the earth after people are gone from extinction and everything going peachy doesn’t quite work for me. Not that I’d want it to still be dark, but, eh, they’d have to have SOME problems, wouldn’t they?

#Sweet Tooth Netflix #Gus #Jeppard #hybrids #Sweet Tooth spoilers

38 notes · View notes

sylvielauffeydottir · 4 years ago

Note

Hi I just saw your post about Israel and Palestinian. I don't know if you're the person to ask or if this is a dumb question but I was wondering if anyone has considered starting a second Jewish state? I was wondering because there's a bunch of Christian countries so why not multiple Jewish ones.

Sorry if I'm bothering you and Thanks for your time.

That’s actually a pretty interesting question. I am going to apologize right now, because I essentially can’t give a short answer to save my life.

I’m not a ‘Jewish Scholar,’ so while I can speak with some authority about the history of Zionism, I definitely couldn’t speak about it with as much authority as others. I mentioned in at least one of the posts I have written about the history of plans for a ‘Jewish state’ when Zionism was originally being proposed, and I can kinda of track the history of Zionist thinking for you if you are interested, though essentially it’s just about arguing where to go. But there are better scholars for this than me, so I would recommend Rebecca Kobrin, Deborah Lipstadt, Walter Laqueur … idk. Maybe just read some Theodor Herzl, honestly. With all of that said, I can speak with some authority about the post-war history of this in the Middle East. So let’s go.

In post-war times, there has really only been one serious discussion of an alternative Jewish state, as far as I know. And actually, this is part of why I find it so ironic that people are campaigning so hard to be “anti-Zionist” and to express views like “anti-Zionism” in their activism, because the Jews in Israel who are most anti-Zionist are actually the settlers of Palestinian territories, who want to secede and form a “Gaza-State” called Judeah. There's a great book about this called The Deadly Embrace by Ilana Kass And Bard O'Neill, if anyone is interested. Anyway, most of those people, who are largely Haredim (the Ultra-Orthodox Jews, though some of those settlers are semi Orthodox), have essentially been waging a “culture war” about what it means to have a Jewish state and what the identity of that Jewish state should look like basically since the 1980s.

There is a really good article about this that you can find right here written by Peter Lintl, who is a researcher at the Institution of Political Science for the Friedrich-Alexander Universitat. I’ll summarize it for the lazy people, though, because it’s like 40 pages. Just know that this paragraph won’t be super source heavy, because it is basically the same source. Essentially, the Haredim community has tripled in size from 4% to 12% of the total Israeli population since 1980, and it is probably going to be about 20% by 2040. They only accept the Torah and religious laws as the basis for Jewish life and Jewish identity and they are critical of democratic principles. To them, a societal structure should be hierarchical, patriarchal, and have rabbis at the apex, and they basically believe that Israel isn’t a legitimate state. This is primarily because Israel is (at least technically, so no one come at me in the comments about Palestinian citizens of Israel, so I’ll make a little ** and address this there) a ‘liberal’ democracy. Rights of Israeli citizens include, according to Freedom House, free and fair elections (they rank higher on that criteria here than the United States, by the way), political choice, political rights and electoral opportunities for women, a free and independent media, and academic freedom. It is also, I should add (as a lesbian), the only country in the Middle East that has anything close to LGBT+ rights.

[**to the point about Palestinians and Palestinian citizens of Israel: I have a few things to say. First, I have recommended this book twice now and it is Michael Oren’s Six Days of War, which absolutely fantastically talks about the ways in which the entire structure of the Palestinian ‘citizenship’ movement, Palestinian rights, and who was responsible for governing Palestinians changed after the Six Days War. If you are at all interested in the modern Middle East or modern Middle East politics, I highly recommend you read this, because a huge tenant of this book is that it was 1967, not 1947, that caused huge parts of our current situation (and that, surprisingly, a huge issue that quote-on-quote “started it” was actually water, but that’s sort of the primary secondary issue, not the Actual Issue at play here). Anyway, I’ve talked about the fact that Israel hugely abuses its authority in the West Bank and Gaza and that there are going to be current members of the Israeli Government who face action at the ICC, so please don’t litigate this again with me. I also should add that the 2018 law which said it was only Jews who had the natural-born right to “self-determine” in Israel was passed by the Lekkud Government, and I really hate them anyway. I know they’re bad. It’s not the point I’m making. I’m making a broader point about the Constitution vis-a-vis what the Haredim are proposing, which is way worse].

To get back to the Haredim, basically there is this entire movement of actual settlers in territories that have been determined to belong to the Palestinian people as of, you know, the modern founding of Israel (and not the pre-Israel ‘colonial settler’ narrative you’ll see on instagram in direct conflict with the history of centuries of aliyah) who want to secede and form a separate Jewish state. They aren’t like, the only settlers, but I point this out because they are basically ‘anti-Zionist’ in the sense that they think that modern Zionism isn’t adhering to the laws of Judaism — that the state of Israel is too free, too radical, too open. And scarily enough, these are the sort of the people from whom Netanyahu draws a huge part of his political support. Which is true of the right wing in general. Netanyahu can’t actually govern without a coalition government. Like I have said, the Knesset is huge, often with 11-13 political parties at once, and so to ‘govern’ Netanyahu often needs to recruit increasingly right wing, conservative, basically insane political parties to maintain his coalition. It’s why he has been so supportive of the settlements, particularly in the last five years (since he is, as I have also said, facing corruption charges, and he really can’t leave office). It would really suck for him if a huge chunk of his voters seceded, wouldn’t it?

Anyway, that is the only ‘second Jewish State’ I know about, and I don’t think that is necessarily much of a solution. I really don’t have the solutions to the Middle East crisis. I am just a girl with some history degrees and some time on her hands to devote to tumblr, and I want people to learn more so they can form their own opinions. With that said, I think there are two more things worth saying and then I will close out for the night.

First, Judaism is an ethno-religion. Our ethnicities have become mixed with the places that we have inhabited over the years in diaspora, which is how you have gotten Sephardi, Mizrahi, Ashkenazi, and even Ethiopian Jews. But if you do actual DNA testing on almost all of the Jews in diaspora, the testing shows that we come from the same place: the Levant. No matter how pale or dark, Jews are still fundamentally one people, something we should never forget (and anyone who tries to put racial hierarchy into paleness of Jews: legit, screw you. One people). Anyway, unlike other religious communities, we have an indigenous homeland because we have an ethnic homeland. It’s small, and there are many Jews in diaspora who choose not to return to it, like myself. But that homeland is ours (just as much as it is rightfully Palestinians, because we are both indigenous to the region. For everyone who hasn’t read my other posts on the issue, I’m not explaining this again. Just see: one, two, and three, the post that prompted this ask). This is different from Christians, for example, who basically just conquered all of Europe and whose religion is not dependent on your race or background. You can be a lapsed Christian and you are still white, latinx, black, etc right? I am a lapsed Jew, religiously speaking, and will still never escape that I am ethnically Ashkenazi Jewish.

Second, I think you raise a really good point about other religious states. There are many other religious majority states in the world (all of these countries have an official state religion), and a lot of them are committing a lot of atrocities right now (don't even get me started on Saudi Arabia). I have seen other posts and other authors write about this better than I ever could, but I am going to do my best to articulate why, because of this, criticism of Israel as a state, versus criticism of the Israeli Government, is about ... 9 times out of 10 inherently antisemitic.

We should all be able to criticize governments. That is a healthy part of the democratic process and it is a healthy part of being part of the world community. But there are 140 dictatorships in the world, and the UN Human Rights Council has condemned Israel 45 times since 2013. Since the creation of the UN Human Rights Council, it has has received more resolutions concerning Israel than on the rest of the world combined. This is compared to like … 1 for Myanmar, 1 for South Sudan, and 1 for North Korea.

Israel is the world’s only Jewish majority state. You want to talk about “ethnic cleansing” and “repressive governments”? I can give you about five other governments and world situations right now, off the top of my head, that are very stark, very brutal, very (in some cases) simple examples of either or both. If a person is ‘using their platform’ to Israel-bash, but they are not currently speaking about the atrocities in Myanmar, Kashmir, Azerbaijan, South Sudan, or even, dare I say, the ethnonationalism of the Hindu Nationalist Party in India, then, at the very least, their activism is a little bit performative. They are chasing the most recent ‘hot button’ issue they saw in an instagraphic, and they probably want to be woke and maybe want to do the right thing. And no one come at me and say it is because you don’t “know anything about Myanmar.” Most people know next to nothing about the Middle East crisis as well. At best, people are inconsistent, they may be a hypocrite, and, whether they want to admit it to themselves or not, they are either unintentionally or intentionally buying into antisemitic narratives. They might even be an antisemite.

I like to think (hope, maybe) that most people don’t hate Jews. If anything, they just follow what they’ve been told, and they tend to digest what everyone is taking about. But there is a reason this is the global narrative that has gained traction, and I guarantee it has at least something to do with the star on the Israeli flag.

I know that was a very long answer to your question, but I hope that gave you some insight.

As a sidenote: I keep recommending books, so I am going to just put a master list of every book I have ever recommended at the bottom of anything I do now, because the list keeps growing. So, let’s go in author alphabetical order from now on.

One Country by Ali Abunimah Rise and Kill First: The Secret History of Israel's Targeted Assassinations by Ronen Bergman Kingdom of Olives and Ash: Writers Confront the Occupation, edited by Michael Chabon and Ayelet Waldman The Girl Who Stole My Holocaust: A Memoir by Noam Chayut If a Place Can Make You Cry: Dispatches from an Anxious State by Daniel Gordis Israel: A Concise History of a Nation Reborn by Daniel Gordis The Deadly Embrace by Ilana Kass And Bard O'Neill Like Dreamers: The Story of the Israeli Paratroopers Who Reunited Jerusalem and Divided a Nation by Yossi Klein Halevi Antisemitism by Deborah Lipstadt Six Days of War: June 1967 and the Making of the Modern Middle East by Michael Oren The Yom Kippur War: The Epic Encounter That Transformed the Middle East by Abraham Rabinovich One Palestine, Complete: Jews and Arabs Under the British Mandate by Tom Segev Hollow Land: Israel's Architecture of Occupation by Eyal Weizman

#ask #jew tag

30 notes · View notes

the-river-person · 4 years ago

Text

Falling Down Around You

Sans had been helping the Guard. His shortcuts were one of the most useful things he could provide to the Underground. It was why he’d kept his job as a messenger and mail carrier despite being the Judge, despite being a practicing psychiatrist. He could jump around the Underground in a few minutes, a journey which might take several days depending on which areas you needed to go through. The fastest road might take you from Old Home to the Castle in New Home in a few hours if you ran the whole way and didn’t stop to talk to anyone. But even the Human had originally taken a few weeks to make the whole trip, because they’d been stopped by numerous puzzles, Monsters who wanted to fight them, and even things like buying things at a shop or getting a room at the Inn. A closed down elevator or a blocked tunnel could delay you even longer, and what if you kept being forced down side routes? So if someone needed a message delivered right then and there, they could either send a text or call. But what happened when you needed to deliver something? Or someone? What happened when the person you’re trying to reach wouldn’t answer? The answer was simple. Call someone who can go there in a flash. And of course he’d been happy enough to do it all. Kept things interesting, let him hear news. Occasionally important things would go through from Gaster or the Royals. He’d be the first to hear about Mettaton’s newest shows. It was he who’d been able to congratulate Undyne on her first ever action film even before Alphys could. All the best Undertube videos, the most interesting articles on the Undernet, even plans for new puzzles. He heard about all of it as he zipped back and forth. Tonight however, he’d taken more shortcuts than ever before. First the King and Queen to Snowdin for Isa, then he’d taken them back to the Palace and immediately began transporting to the furthest areas of the Underground. Looking for the most obscure and hidden Monsters to let them know about the King’s order for evacuation. And he’d even helped special cases out for the guard, transporting fire Monsters who couldn’t enter in through the Waterfall Area, or various Monsters from Old Home who couldn’t easily pass through Snowdin Caverns. Then a Guard had asked him to go down to the Lower Waterfall City in the Cliffs and the Outpost below in the Depths to help transport people out so the elevators would be freed up a little. He had to pause and crouch down, his skull nearly level with his knees. Dizziness was making his head feel fuzzy, but he didn’t want to spend too long recovering from it. A real break would be needed soon or he’d regret it. When he had enough strength back he took a shortcut to Gaster’s cave. Asgore and Toriel were up on the platform with Gaster. He headed that way. “Hey Tori,” he said, and she turned with...well... not quite a smile, but more of a flicker of polite recognition. “Have you seen Papyrus?” She shook her head. “I haven’t, but Gaster said he went to inspect the ship, I think he is still on board.” Sans gave a small sigh of relief. Really there hadn’t been too much to worry about. They were trying to hurry with the evacuation because they wanted as much time as possible in case something went wrong or some Monster was missing. And there wasn’t anyone that could really do his bro any harm, or would even want to. But he’d still felt the icy chill of panic throughout this whole thing. Over near the catwalk, Seamus was packing up the last of the recording equipment, with his husband Evan helping him. Mettaton was nowhere to be seen, and Sans decided that the robot had probably either already boarded the ship or was in line somewhere. Or maybe searching for Napstablook. Over the years the two had had a strange friendship, though neither had ever really said how it came about. And the ghost had become somewhat less self depreciating and a little more confident in their abilities. Really their music had been in the top musical hits chart for over a hundred years now, even the newer albums were popular. Even so, Napstablook was still somewhat gloomy, and that was alright. Nobody could ever match the constant energy that Papyrus had. If Napstablook wanted to be a little gloomy and enjoy long periods of solitude, that was their right. Still working at the computers in the section of the cave that served as Gaster’s lab was one of his assistants. Tertia, who was bird-like and hunched over. She poked at the keys in manner that might have seemed like boredom to anyone else, but Sans knew it was just her way. All four of Gaster’s assistants were very strange Monsters. Suddenly the cave shook. Lights flickered as the very roof of the cave trembled, screams and gasps came from the lines of Monsters waiting to board the ships. Alarms began blaring loudly and little red lights began flashing all over the cave. Gaster whirled round. “What is it? What’s happening?” he demanded of his assistant who was now typing frantically away at the keyboard, trying to find the source. Down below the Monsters were beginning to panic and the Guard was having to step in to keep things from getting out of hand. Tertia gasped, her grey eyes going wide, the most expressive face he’d ever seen on any of the assistants. “It’s the Core! It’s experiencing an overload! It’ll go down in just a few minutes!” Gaster’s mouth fell open in shock. It was only for half a second that he stood there, but with everyone staring at him, waiting for him to carefully explain to them what that meant exactly and what they should do, it seemed like an eternity of waiting. When he finally did move it was neither carefully nor calmly. The scientist threw himself forward towards the ledge looking down on the ship, grabbing the rails to push himself up so that he was right above where the Guards were. “GET EVERYONE ON THE SHIP NOW! DON’T COUNT THEM! JUST BOARD!” Pandemonium ensued. Monsters surged towards the doors of the ship, climbing aboard with the assistance of the Royal Guards, who were doing their best to keep smaller Monsters from being trampled in the chaos. Gaster was halted by Toriel and Asgore who were demanding to know what was happening. But he had no patience for careful explanations. He dove past them and started grabbing files and notebooks off his desk and stuffing everything haphazardly into a briefcase. “It’s the core!” he screeched, almost in hysterics. “If it falls the entire grid will go down. It won’t be enough to kill anyone as long as they aren’t in the machine itself, but the shock wave will be enough to reach this cave. The ship is programmed to open a Rift in the event of an apocalyptic emergency, and it will think this is one!” Glancing behind and seeing their blank expressions he growled in frustration. “Don’t you get it?! If we don’t get on board the ship will leave without us!” That did it, horrified understanding dawned in the eyes of the two Monarchs and they ran for the stairways along with the rest of the crowds. But the lines still stretched out through Waterfall, there were still over 600 Monsters who hadn’t gotten the chance to board yet. Feeling sick to his stomach, Sans wondered for a second what he should do. Shortcuts. He could save some people. Seamus and Evan were making for the stairs as well and he ran to catch up with them. Grabbing their arms he used a shortcut to tear all three of them from their current position in space and onto the ship, where he left them confused and disoriented, and took a shortcut back. Next was Tertia, who was sitting, not moving, in her chair, staring blankly at the computer screen in shock. She didn’t thank him as he handed her over to the Guards in the ship’s hold. He’d gone back for Gaster when he spotted Realis enter the cave looking frantic. Running that way instead he brought the prince into the ship as well. Monsters outside were desperately pushing relatives, especially younger ones, forward. Though there were no real children left after three hundred years, many still appeared to be children, and their parents lifted them high, ignoring their protests, and practically handed them to the Guards, who took them into the ship. Cousins, lovers, and friends were shoved forward, and other Monsters who only had themselves to worry about pushed their way to the front. He saw Papyrus pull a Froggit as well as both Bratty and Catty into the ship all at the same time. Even Monster Kid had leaned back as far as he could to take the tiny Cinnamon with the curl of his tail while Goner helped Cinnamon’s older Sister, Lapina, climb up using his tail. A tiny yellow bird who had once carried people across a disproportionately small gap was clinging to her fur, terrified out of its mind. Where had Gaster gone to? He spotted Gaster fiddling with the computers, Sans appeared behind him and saw the little storage chip he’d plugged into slot. The Scientist was trying to copy over his research. “Doc! Come on! There’s no time!” And there wasn’t time. The surge from the collapsing Core hit and the cavern shook again and the lights went out, leaving only the ship and it’s power system separate from the main grid still lighting the space. Screaming and panicked shouting rang out and the Monsters nearest to the ship were forced back. The Rift had begun to open up underneath the floor of the cave. Papyrus was looking frantically around the cave, pushing against his own guards as they tried to close the doors for their fall into the Void. “SANS!!!” he screamed. Sans was only a few steps from the edge of the platform, right over the ship. He didn’t think, he only moved. He was already in the air when he realized that Gaster was with him, having tried to stop him from making the jump and fallen with him. To all those still in the cave it appeared as if a gigantic flat disk of nothingness you couldn’t describe that had no color to speak of but wasn’t black or white and could be seen even in the dark despite not giving off any light had opened up where the floor was supposed to be. The Ship and the pair of falling Monsters seemed to slow and freeze in place, then slowly... without moving, they simply began to fade away as if they had never been. And with them went the strange grey disk that made up the Rift. From San’s point of view the world around him began to warp and twist as if it were being turned inside out. He could still see the Monsters in Gaster’s cave, but instead of the cave being all around him, it was as if the space around him had been turned inside out and shaped into an orb, leaving only the Void around him as he fell away from the orb. It got smaller and smaller until it was gone, and so was the ship. He and Gaster were adrift in the Void.

#Gaster #w d gaster #sans the skeleton #undertale #aeontale #undertale au #the great papyrus #toriel dreemurr #asgore dreemurr #burgerpants #nice cream guy #the undernet #the underground #mettaton #napstablook #asriel dreemurr #the void undertale #gaster followers

19 notes · View notes

smol-and-grumpy · 4 years ago

Text

EUPHORIA - Chapter 21

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Chapter Warning: Angst, Fluff

WC: 2759

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

THIS SERIES IS COMPLETE ON PATREON

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Y/N slams the door to Dean’s Impala with a last smile.

He’s absolutely adorable, wanting to walk her to the entrance and all. Dean has grown up to be such a gentleman, and it makes her regret not realizing that he had wanted to ask her out all along in high school. But maybe it’s better this way? They both had room to grow, had room to think and realize what they want out of life. Sometimes, puzzle pieces are not found until later. Little pieces that make a beautiful big picture.

She has the feeling that she’s found it. The big picture. The bigger picture to life. Something that gives her a meaning. Someone that values her existence. It’s hard to find, and hopefully it wouldn’t be hard to keep.

He blushed so adorably when she told him that she’s a big girl and can walk that couple of yards by herself. She really is, though. She has survived all these years on her own without him. But she also gets it. Gets that he’s worried that something will happen to her, even though she doesn’t think it will. He might be overreacting. It’s not like he’s a crime lord or anything. He’s not involved in anything illegal. She gathered the information from what he told her and from her own research, unless there’s something he hasn’t told her, but she doesn’t think that’s the case. He’s been frank with her and she has done the same with him. Maybe what happened to the club is just a sick prank by someone who’s jealous of his success. It must be.

Walking along the pavement, she can feel that Dean’s still here. No, she knows that he’s still here, because he hasn’t driven off yet, even though his club is open and he most likely has work to do. He probably watches her through the rearview mirror right now, and she’s about to turn around and stick her tongue out at him when a dark figure approaches her.

It’s a man, the hood of his sweater drawn into his face and he grabs her upper arm, making her jump. She struggles against his grip, and the hood comes off.

Cole.

“I just want to talk!” He grits his teeth, words spewing from him in a hiss, his fingers bruising her arm.

“You have no fucking right to be here, I’ll call the cops!” Her voice trembles a little, but she tries her best to keep herself together, tries not to break down and let him think that she’s weak. Because that’s what she isn’t. Not anymore.

Cole seems to be mad about her putting up a fight, but there’s something else she sees in his eyes. He purses his lips and hisses some more, “I made a fucking big mistake and—”

“—Hey!”

Dean’s deep, loud voice cuts through the darkness like a sharp knife.

They both turn their head to look at the source and see Dean running towards them. Instead of letting her go, though, Cole’s finger dig deeper into her flesh.

“Oh, does your boyfriend think I’m going to hurt you?” Cole whispers in mockery.

Boyfriend. He’s not her boyfriend is he? She doesn’t know but Cole doesn’t have to know either so she doesn’t correct her ex.

“Fuck you, Cole,” She says in the calmest voice she can muster up because she knows that Cole will only get more angry when she would yell at him, “You’re not supposed to be here. Please leave!”

“Dude, let go of her,” Dean growls low. He grabs at Cole’s hand that’s still gripping her tight.

When her ex ignores him and wouldn’t let go of her, Dean increases the pressure of his hand, squeezing Cole a little harder, and she feels it too, feels Cole’s fingers sinking into her muscles. It’s painful and she has to bite on the inside of her cheek.

Cole’s face contorts in pain and finally he lets go with a pained grunt. Y/N holds her hand over the place Cole touched her, it’s going to bruise, she just knows.

“I just wanted to talk, man,” Cole’s hand is around the wrist Dean just plied from her arm, examining it.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Cole,” Her gaze is fierce on her ex boyfriend. Back in the days when she was with him, she would never have the guts to talk to him like that. But Dean’s right, she’s changed. She won’t let anyone talk down to her ever again.

“Cole?” Dean asks, his voice is loud. He looks down at her, his hand on the back of her neck as he draws her close and crouches down a little to be the same level with her, “That’s Cole? You mean, your ex boyfriend Cole?”

She nods and notices Dean’s eyes widen, the frown on his forehead deeper now and the fingers on the hand on the back of her neck curls, tips digging into her skin.

“Yeah,” Cole snickers, “The one who was there before you, dude. How does it feel to get sloppy seconds, huh?” Cole’s full on taunting Dean now, “She did everything I wanted her to, man, moaned so sweet too. Still didn’t make her a good fuck, tou—”

It happens so fast. One second Dean’s hand is around her neck, the next, his fist connects with Cole’s face. Her ex couldn’t even finish his sentence. The impact sends him to the ground and he grunts in pain. It’s dark but she can see dark droplets on the pavement.

Dean stands before her, stands between Cole and her, and they wait for Cole to get back on his feet.

“Fuck you!” Cole curses, pointing his finger at Dean and with his next breath he shouts, “Fuck the both of you!” He spits out his words and she peeks from behind Dean’s broad frame, sees blood running out of her ex’s nose and there’s blood on his bottom lip, too.

“Go on, call the police, I dare you. I’ll let them know that you violated your restraining order.” Dean’s voice is firm but it’s also exceptionally calm, the bass rolling deep and smooth and it’s strange, but it comforts her, calms her.

For the first time in years, she has the feeling that there’s really someone looking out for her.

Cole spits more blood to the ground before he looks up and grins a bloody grin. He looks like a damn psychopath, “You know what? You deserve whatever’s going to come at you, you fucking whore!” And then he looks at Dean, “And what are you? Her fucking pimp? Don’t think you can get rich with this one, dude!”

“Hey!” Dean shouts out, “I would watch your fucking mouth or I’m going to have to hurt you. And believe me, I’m going to enjoy it.”

Spitting to the ground one last time, Cole turns on his heels and walks away.

They watch him leave and when he’s well out of sight, Dean turns to her, pulls her into his chest and she lets him. Breathing in his smell and letting it calm her. Dean’s own heart is beating fast.

“You okay?”

She nods into his chest, rubbing her face into the fabric of his shirt, “Yeah, thank you.”

“Come on, let's get you inside.”

He wraps his arm around her and walks her to the entrance of the building.

Once inside, he accompanies her to her desk and sits her down, says hello to Rufus in passing.

Dean braces his one hand on the desk and the other one on the back of her chair. She can’t stop staring at his hand because his knuckles are red.

“Are you going to be okay? I’m going to go and make some phone calls outside,”

Upon hearing his voice, Y/N stares up to him, “Dean, you’re hurt,”

He quickly takes his hand from the desk and hides it in his pants pocket, “Nah, I’m okay.”

“You are not.”

Quickly, she stands up, pulls his hand out of the pocket and places her hand on his shoulder, making him sit down into her chair.

“Baby, I’m really okay, people are staring,” Dean mumbles, and he’s right, the people who are still here are staring, but she just can’t find it in herself to care.

Y/N takes another chair from the empty desk beside her and rolls it towards Dean and he watches her with a frown on his face but he doesn’t say anything, knowing that there’s nothing to say to make her stop.

Sitting down, she examines his hand and Dean flinches, even though he tries to conceal it but she has trained eyes. It’s red from the impact and it’s definitely going to bruise. She wonders how much force Dean used on Cole. Hopefully Cole has a broken nose, has maybe lost some teeth — it would serve him right. Dean’s hand doesn’t seem broken, he can still use it, so at least there’s that.

“You wait here,” She says and places his hand on his thigh.

Dean already opens his lips to say something but she sends him a glare, shutting him up.

“Okay, I’ll wait,” He mumbles and rubs at his face with his other hand — the good one — pinching the bridge of his nose.

Y/N returns with the first aid kit, rubs some cream over his knuckles and fingers. Dean flinches, but he doesn’t say anything, keeps on gnawing at his bottom lip as he watches her work.

“I’m sorry, he’s an ass.” She says and looks up to him with a smirk.

Dean snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, he is.”

They didn’t say anything for a long time until Rufus, who was watching the scene unfold before him, has to take a call. He stands up and walks to the meeting room to have some privacy. She thinks it's to give them privacy as well. Rufus didn’t ask what happened and she’s kind of glad about it. He knows that she’ll spill it to him anyway later, when the time is right.

“I’m sorry, I’m holding you up from work,” Dean mutters under his breath, realizing that it’s past 10pm and she should actually work.

“Don’t worry about it, you saved me from Cole, that’s the least I can do.” She smiles up at him and sees him blush. Dean’s blushes are the best.

She stands up to fish the bandage from the kit and Dean rolls his chair back a little, pats his lap, “Come here,”

“Dean,” Y/N starts to say and Dean looks around. There’s nobody in their close proximity in the open space office, and the ones she can see from her standing point, are busy on their computer.

“Please?” He tries to pout, and she hates that it looks ridiculous. Ridiculously cute.

Rolling her eyes and exhaling a loud sigh, she goes. It’s only for the effect and Dean knows because he’s smiling like an idiot now.

As soon as she’s on his lap, he wraps one arm around her shoulder, lets it fall down to her waist, holding her there while she works the bandage around his injured hand.

“Why do you want me sitting in your lap?” She asks, maybe only to pass the time and the silence, she doesn’t know.

“‘Cause I want you close,” He says matter of factly. It gets her heart racing.

She finishes, makes an attempt to get up, to put the kit away, when Dean tugs her back, making her land in his lap again. This time he hugs his arms around her, lays his chin onto her shoulder.

“He was taunting me,” He mumbles in a deep voice, the bass of it travels from his chest to her back, “Was insulting you. I know he had you first and I regret not trying to find you harder. I regret it every damn day since I saw you walk into my club. He didn’t have to rub it into my face.”

“Dean,” She starts to say, but he continues.

“I absolutely hate the fact that he found you first, and because it’s not really true. I was the one who found you first. I was just an idiot who didn’t know what’s good when it hit him right in the face,” He scoffs, “Shit, I’m getting angry again just thinking about what he said.”

Y/N strokes along his arm, feeling his muscle tense underneath the layer of clothing. She hopes it can help calm him down.

“You know,” He breathes out, holds her just a little tighter, “There’s a corner in my heart that is yours. And I didn’t mean for now, I mean it in a way that it always belonged to you and it doesn’t matter how many times I thought I fell in love, there was always a quiet corner in my heart with your name on its door. Somewhere I occasionally go back to whenever I feel lonely.”

She swallows hard, tears already forming in the back of her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to hit him in front of you but I couldn’t let him say it to your face. Are you scared of me?”

Letting out a soft chuckle, she shakes her head no, “Nah, ‘m not.”

Y/N tilts her head to the side, stares into Dean’s green eyes, their noses touch and he smiles at her.

She gnaws on her bottom lip. There’s a question burning on her tongue and she doesn’t know if she should ask. Gathering all her courage, she asks anyway.

“Do you think I’m a good fuck?”

It comes out a whisper and she feels her cheeks heating up. She doesn’t actually know why she asked. Maybe she’s scared that it’s really not good for Dean and he does all this just because he likes her? It’s not like she’s a sex goddess but dammit, she tries to be at least memorable. Dean’s probably had more women than she has panties in her underwear collection and she doesn’t know, it would be nice if she’d be close to the top of that list, which is a really really weird thought to have at the moment, given the circumstances.

Dean chuckles, his body rumbles underneath, and then he pecks her lips, “Baby, you’re the best fuck I ever had,” He pecks her nose before going on, “Jesus, I’m getting hard just thinking about fucking you again. But it’s not just about that, and you know it. I enjoy being with you. I actually enjoy you distracting me from work. I enjoy being around you.”

“Thank you, I mean, not for the fuck, well, maybe for that, too, I don’t know,” She stammers, and he’s grinning at her like an idiot. She knows that it’s because she’s all flustered about his comment. “Thank you for everything and for fucking me, I guess,” She chuckles herself now, before kissing him. His lips soft on hers. His hands stroking her hair back behind her ear while he deepens the kiss.

There’s a sound of someone clearing their throat loudly next to them and they both turn their head to see Rufus staring at them, his hands akimbo.

She scrambles off Dean and rights her skirt while Dean brushes the spit from his lips, a cocky grin now on his face.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll make some calls,” Dean says and gets up, “When will you be finished?”

“About two hours?” Y/N sits into her chair now.

He leans down to kiss her cheek, “I’ll pick you up.”

And with that, he walks out into the hall and only when Dean’s gone did Rufus grin at her. That little shit.

Two hours.

Two fucking hours that Dean has to do what he plans to do. He thinks it’s do-able.

If he hurries.

First of all, though, he calls Balthazar because that dude was supposed to have an eye on fucking Cole and he still managed slip away. Dean fucking hates being played.

Thumbing over his phone he sees Balth’s message just now.

B: My man kind of lost him on the subway. He’s headed downtown.

Dean scoffs. Yeah, he fucking knows that already.

He pushes the button and the other man picks up at the first ring right away.

“Is he home?” Dean asks without even saying hello to his man.

“Yeah, he came home with a bloody nose.” Balthazar answers.

“Good, keep him there. Send me the address.”

Chapter 22

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#euphoria #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

187 notes · View notes

sugarandspace · 4 years ago

Text

Some of us are human (Sterek)

(posted on AO3 under the pseud aconitum)

Summary: While researching the newest threat with Stiles, Derek comes across a box under Stiles' bed. The box has the words "open when I'm dead" written on it and for a moment Derek forgets how to breathe.

Word count: 2,446

Warnings: for a moment Derek thinks Stiles might be suicidal (he's not), there's also talk about death (but no one dies) and a mention of the nogitsune and the darkness inside Stiles

A/N: check out this beautiful gifset made by my talented friend @sparkandwolf who also helped me with the fic!! 💙

Read on AO3

Stiles’ desk lamp is a little too bright for Derek’s liking and he’s sure it’s going to give him a headache soon. Maybe Stiles would be okay with switching places. Derek looks at the bed where Stiles has been sitting with his laptop. The bed is full of printed out articles and notes Stiles has been taking and Derek doesn’t dare touch them in fear that he’s going to mess up the other man’s organized chaos. He’s going to have to ask him once he comes back from the bathroom.

Stiles is back in Beacon Hills for the winter break and they are at Stiles’ researching the newest creature that has arrived in the town. The amount of books and notebooks and other sources Stiles has on his bookshelf is honestly impressive, and they hope they can find something that could tell them what they are up against.

One of the scrolls - yes scrolls, Derek has no idea where Stiles has found scrolls - falls from the desk when Derek turns to face it again. It rolls under Stiles’ bed and Derek gets up from the desk chair to kneel on the floor so he can see under the bed and can see where it rolled. It’s not far and he can easily reach it.

Just as he’s about to get back up, he notices an old shoe box under Stiles’ bed. It’s not what catches his attention, there are plenty of things under the younger man’s bed, but what makes him stop and stare at the box are the words written on the side of it, bold black letters in Stiles’ handwriting:

OPEN WHEN I’M DEAD

Derek stares at the box for a moment, feeling like his whole world has come to a halt. When he’s able to move he pulls the box from under the bed and sits more comfortably on the floor, bringing the box to his lap. He doesn’t even stop to think if it’s okay before he opens the lid and looks into the box.

Privacy be damned, if Stiles is planning on dying he needs to know everything.

Derek knows that some darkness still lingers inside of Stiles from when he, Scott, and Allison died for a moment a few years ago when they were trying to save their parents. The same darkness that made him vulnerable to the nogitsune. A darkness that will never completely go away.

But Derek didn’t know that it was affecting him this deeply. Was Stiles suicidal? The thought makes his heart race in panic.

What he finds from the box makes his eyebrows furrow. The box has three light blue envelopes in it, each of them addressed to someone. The first one is for the Sheriff, the second one for Scott, and the third one is for... Derek?

It’s in that moment that Stiles walks back to the room. Derek had been so distracted by the box he hadn’t even heard him walk up the stairs. Derek looks up from the envelope he’s holding - the one with his name written on in Stiles’ handwriting - and can easily see the moment Stiles realises what he’s holding.

Stiles’ hand goes to the back of his neck in a nervous manner and he tries to laugh, but it comes out weak.

“So you found those,” he says. “Neat.”

The situation is very far from neat and Derek doesn’t know what to say. He’s not good with serious conversations and to be honest the flippant tone Stiles is going for grates Derek’s nerves, because this is a serious topic and Stiles’ isn’t allowed to make fun of it.

“What are these?” his tone comes out accusing now that he’s gotten over the shock of finding the letters.

“Listen,” Stiles starts and lets out a deep sigh as he leans against the doorframe, giving up instead of trying to argue. “I’ve seen things - I’ve done things no 20-year-old should ever have to have done. Is it really so unreasonable for me to be prepared for the unfortunate but very possible situation where some supernatural creature will eventually shoot me or maim me or cast me under a curse that no one will be able to break? I don’t have supernatural healing properties. Let’s be real, I’m lucky to still be alive.”

At some point during his speech Stiles had gotten defensive and even though he’s wrapped his arms around his chest in a protective manner Derek can hear his heart beat faster than normal beneath his ribs. Derek can smell hints of embarrassment in the air, but it’s paired with determination. Stiles really does believe in what he’s saying.

And it breaks Derek’s heart.

He’s gone through his own share (and a little more) of bad things in his life, and he knows very well how dangerous the supernatural world can be. But it still hurts somewhere deep in his chest to hear the words Stiles is saying. In no small part because he knows it’s true. Stiles’ mind and soul might be as tough as that of a strong werewolf, but his human body is fragile.

“And I’m part of the reason you’re a part of this world,” Derek says. He doesn’t mean to say it out loud but he can’t help it when the realisation comes to him.

Stiles walks over to him and sits on the floor as well, taking the letter from Derek’s hands and putting it back to the box, which he pushes back under the bed. Derek wants to say that it’s a bit too late for the whole “out of sight, out of mind” thing and that box is probably going to come to haunt Derek’s dreams in the following nights, but he stays quiet.

“No,” Stiles says. It’s short and sure and he makes sure Derek is looking him in the eyes before he continues. “You stop that right now. I won’t let you blame yourself for this. You know what got me into this world? My curiosity. It was my choice to go looking for a body in the woods in the middle of the night, my choice to keep hanging with Scott when he became a werewolf. It’s been, and always will be, my choice to accompany you all to your battles. My choice. I’m aware of all the risks. I don’t regret learning about the supernatural. Ignorance might be bliss but knowledge keeps me safe. That way I can protect myself and the people I care about.”

Derek doesn't know what to say to that. He’s suddenly hit with how much Stiles has grown in the past few years. He’s gone through a lot and he’s not as carefree as he used to be, but this life hasn’t turned him cold. There’s humor and sarcasm in hard places but there’s also wisdom and strength.

“Do you understand me?” Stiles asks. His voice has gone softer now, the determination has made room for gentleness, for the need to be understood.

“Yeah,” Derek replies. He does.

“Those letters are just in case,” Stiles says and looks towards the bed where the box is once again hidden beneath it. “I don’t want anything to be left unsaid if I’m taken from here too soon.”

That sparks a question in Derek, one he’s not sure if he should voice. He understands the letter for the sheriff and he understands the one for Scott. The sheriff is Stiles’ father and Scott is like a brother to him. But Derek? They’ve gotten far from when Stiles accused him of murder and he mainly communicated with threats and glares. They’ve become good friends. But Derek doesn’t see a letter for Lydia or Liam or Isaac. There’s something Stiles wants to tell him that he feels like he can’t say to his face. Something important. In the end the curiosity wins and he asks, “What do you want to say to me?”

Stiles’ eyes widen.

“I think I’d rather wait until I’m dead,” he says and goes to get up but Derek takes a hold of his wrist.

“I want to know now,” he says gently. He feels nervous and he hopes Stiles doesn’t notice that his hands are sweating a little.

Stiles looks uncomfortable when he sits back down.

“Don’t make me wrestle you to get to that letter,” Derek threatens, only half-serious.

“You wouldn’t,” Stiles says and narrows his eyes at Derek. Still, Derek notices how he angles himself slightly more between Derek and the box.

He wouldn’t. Stiles is allowed to have secrets, no matter how much Derek would want to know.

“Obviously you don’t have to,” Derek says. “But I’d really like to know. It’s clearly something important if you’d want me to know in case you died.”

Just saying that - of talking about the possibility that Stiles might die anytime soon - makes Derek’s stomach twist uncomfortably. He cares about the other man more than he’s cared about anyone in a while, more than is probably acceptable to care about someone who’s only supposed to be your friend, even if said friend is also your packmate.

“It might ruin everything,” Stiles warns, but Derek can see that he’s warming up to telling him.

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” Stiles says and tries to laugh, but it comes out flat.

It might be unfair but Derek uses his senses to get a better read on Stiles. When he breathes in the other man’s scent, among the nervousness he can smell a hint of longing, and a little bit of hope finds its way to Derek’s heart.

Could it be possible that the feelings he has for Stiles were reciprocated? Derek tries not to let the hope grow too much. He’s tried so hard to keep those feelings buried as deep as he could, knowing that Stiles deserves better than him. It’s easier to do that when he imagines that Stiles would never want to be more than friends with him.

“I won’t force you,” Derek tells him honestly. “But I’d like to know.”

Stiles looks at him for a long time, probably weighing his options. It’s clear that he wants to tell Derek, wants to believe that nothing would change, but the fear is persistent.

“Can you honestly say that you’ll be okay with never hearing my answer?” Derek tries, and that seems to do it for Stiles.

“I like you,” he blurts out in a similar way Stiles often blurts things, only this time instead of rushing to talk more Stiles freezes in fear like he’s waiting for something bad to happen.

Derek doesn’t know what to say because Stiles’ words leave room for interpretation. Derek can’t know for sure if Stiles means it the way Derek hopes or if he means it in a way he does when he talks about the fries from the local diner. Though, as Derek thinks about it, Stiles wouldn’t be so scared to admit it if his feelings were platonic.

Stiles has been brave and he’s meeting Derek half-way, it’s only fair Derek takes the remaining step to meet him there.

“I like you too,” he says.

Stiles, it turns out, doesn’t hesitate to ask refining questions.

“You mean like… like-like, don’t you?” He asks, not giving Derek time to reply before he’s rambling on, obviously nervous. “Because otherwise this is embarrassing. Oh god, I should have waited until after I die. Is it too late for that? Because Derek if you’re not going to say anything anytime soon I might really die. Death by embarrassment, a new way to go but I bet no one who knows me would be surprised to hear that Stiles Stilinski was the first one to die of embarrassment. I can already see the headstone. Here lies Stiles Sti-”

Stiles doesn’t get to finish because Derek leans in and kisses him. Derek’s been dreaming about this moment many times, has hoped that he could stop the other man from rambling by kissing him speechless, and now he finally can.

It’s better than he dreamed.

Stiles’ lips are soft and he returns the kiss as soon as his brain catches up with the situation. The kiss is tentative, just a touch of lips, but somehow it feels like something huge.

“Oh wow,” Stiles says when they pull away from each other.

When Derek opens his eyes Stiles is still really close, and he smiles when Stiles’ hand comes up to gingerly touch his jaw. Derek wants to tell him that he’s not going to break, but he doesn’t remember the last time someone has touched him so gently. He leans into the touch and smiles.

“Oh wow,” Stiles repeats. “I think you broke me.”

“I’m sorry?” Derek says, to which Stiles snorts.

“You’re forgiven,” he says and leans in to kiss Derek again. This time the kiss turns deeper, more sure now that they both know to expect it.

The hand Stiles has on his jaw turns surer while the other one comes up to Derek’s shoulder. Derek crosses another thing from his list-of-things-he’s-dreamt-of-doing and buries one of his hands into Stiles’ hair and yes - it’s just as soft as he’s imagined. The other hand rests on Stiles’ thigh for balance.

“ Back to what I said earlier ,” Stiles says when they pull away for air. “ Learning about the supernatural side of the world has brought a lot of danger and bad things in my life. But it has also brought you into my life, and I’m really grateful for that. I wouldn’t change anything. If I were to be given a time machine, I wouldn’t go back. Or maybe I would, just a little, so I could do this sooner and we could spend more time kissing because holy hell if I’d known how you reply I would have spoken so much earlier .”

Derek rolls his eyes and takes Stiles by the chin to drag him to another kiss which effectively shuts him up.

“Is this going to be a new thing?” Stiles asks when he pulls back. “You shutting me up with your kisses?”

Derek doesn’t reply with words, but he does kiss Stiles again and that is a reply in itself.

“Okay no talking,” Stiles says when Derek lets his lips go.

“You are talking,” Derek points out as he gets closer again, unable to get enough of kissing Stiles now that he can finally do it.

“Shutting up now,” Stiles says, the words brushing against Derek’s lips before they are kissing again.

This time Stiles really does stay quiet. They get lost in each other, their crazy world and research forgotten around them.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #sterek fanfiction #my writing #i'm slowly but surely posting these in here too

55 notes · View notes

wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years ago

Text

❧ part of Jan’s Halloween Circus

❧ about: atsumu hates ghosts, but free food and the company of his friends leads him to the angel inn where he meets a journalist who is seeking more than a cheap thrill.

❧ prompts: Anybody else notice the small child staring at us & wait! its too dangerous to go alone, take this! *puts my hand in yours*

❧ pairing: Atsumu x F!reader

❧ wc: 2.7k

❧ triggers: anxiety, mentions of death and murder, a touch of dark humor, ghost children.

❧ A/N: I hope you guys like this! I had so much fun writing it. I edited this twice but if I missed anything pls ignore. MWAH.

The Angel Inn was not merely famous for their delectable burger, no – its name had been splattered across dozens of newspapers for a reason far more dreadful. In 1954, a tragedy occurred on the property, drawing the attention of locals and foreigners alike. On the morning of October 31st four lifeless bodies were discovered by the unsuspecting housekeeper. She was sent to the room after the neighboring occupants complained of a nauseating smell to the front desk.

After initiating an investigation, the authorities ruled that it was a triple homicide and suicide. The Angel Inn remained closed for months to allow the authorities 24-hour access to the crime scene, and when it was time to reopen, they opted to covert the establishment into a restaurant instead.

During the renovation the owner had received various complaints from the contracted party, who claimed that something was amiss. There were reported sightings of a little pale boy, along with concerns about flickering lights and screeches that would ring through the narrow hallways. Soon the haunting of the Angel Inn was assigned the status of town gossip, alluring ghost hunters and disbelievers alike to the newly opened restaurant. Though, fearful of a potential lawsuit, the owner of the property elected to lock each of the bedrooms – whether it was to keep the humans out or the ghosts in was questionable. Yet, she hoped either way it would save her from enduring another investigation.

When your boss originally assigned you the story for the Halloween edition of the magazine, not a single protest left your mouth. Instead, the sound of excitement crawling up your throat had to be swallowed, to spare your manager from a potential earache. Not only would your dinner be covered, you were being paid to explore a haunted motel, something you would have agreed to do if your boss had simply asked. Ghost stories had always captured your interest as a child, partially due to the fact your grandmother was a self-proclaimed psychic.

Was it bad that communicating with a ghost was on your list of life goals?

Maybe you should aim higher, but the possibility of encountering a ghost child had electricity surging throughout your nerves. It was going to be perfect.

When four vouchers were allocated to the Ace of the MSBY Black Jackals for dinner at the Angel Inn, he naturally decided to invite his closest team-mates. Hinata agreed immediately, oblivious to the reputation of the property. Sakusa declined the invite promptly, until he noticed the colour drain from the setter’s face. The panic flaring in Atsumu’s eyes and the strained smile tugging at the corners of his mouth indicated that at minimum, the dinner would be interesting. He could sacrifice peace for one evening if it meant watching his friend tremor the entire time.

“Tsum Tsum, don’t worry! If any ghosts come, I’ll protect us. I am the Ace after-all.” A teasing laugh rose from Bokuto’s chest as he snuck an arm around the setter’s shoulder. The blonde responded with a low grunt, mumbling something inaudible. Ghosts were not his thing, and he failed to understand how they could be anyone’s thing.

But alas, on October 30th, the setter found himself sat at the Angel Inn with his three team-mates. Earlier in the day, he attempted to bribe his brother to colour his hair and attend on his behalf. While Osamu was certainly tempted – it was food after-all, he was unwilling to colour his hair to match his brothers. Blonde was a colour that suited only a subsection of society, and he was not fortunate enough to be granted permission into that branch. And so, he left his older brother to fend for himself.

Nothing could distract Atsumu from the supposed danger that loomed over him, his senses were sensitive to every noise that vibrated within the confines of the establishment. For most of the night, the setter found himself observing every creak, sneeze or laugh, to ensure that its source was not supernatural. However, the anxiety gripping his heart had released its hold when the sound of a melodic laugh touched his ears. It took him a few seconds to discover the source of the laughter, and when he connected it to you, eagerness brought him to his feet.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you possessed now?” Sakusa raised an eyebrow at the blonde as a small simper formed on his mouth. He had read that the weakest one in the room is the most likely to fall victim to possession, and so it made sense if Atsumu was their first target.

“I’m gonna go talk to that pretty girl.” With his fingers adjusting the collar of his shirt, a flirtatious expression adorned his features, washing away any hint of gloom that was once present. While Bokuto and Hinata strived to detect who their friend was referring to, Sakusa clicked his tongue in artificial distaste.

“Did it ever occur to you, that maybe she is a ghost?” The humour laced into the inquiry could not be successfully disguised by the outsider hitter’s pretentious attitude. It was clear to them all that it was his attempt at a joke.

“Shut up, Omi!” Before stepping away from the table, the blonde administered a glare at his friend. There was no way you were a ghost… Right?

When Atsumu was close enough to catch a glimpse of your face, any concerns on the status of your existence were banished. Although, he was not particularly enthusiastic when he spotted the notebook situated in front of you. Reporters were usually far too intrusive and insensitive for his liking. Yet he still found himself claiming the empty stool beside you.

“Whatcha got there?” Shifting his gaze to the sheet filled with scribbles, his breath caught in his throat at the title. The Haunting of The Angel Inn.

It took you a second to comprehend that the question was aimed at your work. The last thing you anticipated was for someone to seek you out during your little investigation today. Dressed in ordinary business attire, it was surprising that someone of his calibre would consider sparing you a second look, yet alone a conversation.

“Hm? Oh, I’m writing an article.” Despite instructing yourself to not stare, your y/e/c irises refused to leave the stranger’s face. There was something familiar about him – was he a model? As you racked through your mind for an answer to the question of his identity, you blinked in slow intervals.

“About the hauntings?” When his attention traveled from the notebook to you, it finally clicked. Miya Atsumu – pro volleyball player. The realization tempted you to pound your forehead with the edge of your palm.

“Yeah, I’m a journalist. Star here was just telling me about her experience with Haru.” His question about your work returned your mind to the task at hand. Gesturing towards the bartender with the pen nestled between two fingers, a soft laugh was exhaled. Right. You were on a mission tonight to gain an audience with the ghosts of Angel Inn.

“Haru?” Atsumu narrowed his brows, the smile on his lips slipping away into a frown. Who was Haru?

“The ghost kid who haunts this place?” Adjusting yourself on the seat, excitement sparkled in your eyes. It was at this point that Atsumu realized that you were the polar opposite of him – you were seeking a paranormal experience, whereas he simply wanted a burger.

“Well shit. Didn’t know he had a name.” The setter propped an elbow onto the wooden counter, directing artificial laughter to leave his lips.

“They call him that because he apparently looks like the child who was murdered here.” A knowing wiggle was given to your eyebrows. While he may have sought to disguise his discomfort with the topic, it quickly dawned on you that MSBY’s setter was afraid of ghosts.

“Right. So lemme get this straight, you came here willingly? You want to see a ghost?” His eyelids fell into a quizzical slit. He knew the answers to those questions, and still was foolish enough to vocalize them.

“Yeah. I think it would be fun.”

And there it was. Confirmation that you were less than sane.

“Not if they try to kill ya.” There was a bitter edge to his comment, earning him a puzzled titter.

“I doubt a four-year-old ghost is going to kill me.” A shake to your head accompanied the reassurance. His anxieties were rooted in foolish assumptions, but you found the pout on his lips to be oddly adorable. “But if you’re scared, you can sit with me and I promise if a ghost comes, I’ll do all the talking.” An eyelid was then dipped into a wink, which prompted the blonde to break into a laugh.

“Yer the second person to offer to protect me.” Embarrassment flooded his stomach with bees, instead of butterflies. Yet he refused to lower this façade, with laughter continuing to drip from his mouth.

“Hey, we all have our fears. You can protect me if a spider appears. Deal?” The arrangement prompted you to offer out your pinky to solidify the verbal contract.

“Yah. Okay. Deal.” Atsumu curled his pinky around yours, and the smallest touch had calmed the insects inside of him. Maybe you weren’t that bad, even if you were a little crazy.

“I’m l/n, f/n, by the way.”

“I’m Miya, Atsumu.”

The following hour contained various conversations, ranging from past paranormal experiences to locker-room gossip. Atsumu munched away at the plate of appetizers while you supplied him with stories of your childhood. He was beginning to piece together why you were so keen on communicating with the ghostly residences of the Angel Inn. You were halfway through another story when his attention drifted onto a figure in the corridor behind you.

“Err. L/n. Did ya notice the small child staring at us? Please tell me ya see it too.” It was never his intention to lock stares with the almost transparent being that was beckoning him over. The poor male choked on the fry in his mouth, and then dove for a glass of water.

“Hm? Where?!” Spinning around on the seat, you attempted to attain a visual of what had frightened the blonde. To your disappointment, there was no sign of a young child. “I think it ran away. I’m gonna follow it.” The announcement of your plans was followed by a little fist pump in the air. If Haru wanted a playmate, you were certainly available.

“Yer gonna follow the ghost child? Can we talk about this?” After administering a cough to clear his throat, the setter prepared his best impression of a puppy-dog, hoping it would convince you to abandon your endeavours.

“You don’t have to come with me, Miya. I’ll meet you back here when I’m done.” With laughter dancing up your throat, you settled onto your feet then presented a bright beam in the setter’s direction. Atsumu was appreciative of your efforts to reassure him, though he would refuse to allow you to leave without him.

“No. It’s too dangerous to go alone, take this.” Before you could question what he was referring to, the male intertwined his fingers with yours then casted his gaze aside shyly. “Alright. Now ya can go.”

“That was kinda corny and kinda cute. I’ll accept it.” The inside of your cheek was bit as you pushed to conceal the happiness the action brought you. For someone who was notorious for being a ‘bad boy’, he was ridiculously sweet. The circumstances surely called for an eerie chill to fill your bones, and yet warmth engulphed every inch of your skin.

The quest to find Haru was unsuccessful on the lower level. It was only when you proceeded up the staircase did you hear a strange giggle from one of the hallways. It appeared that you had accepted a game of hide and seek with the dead. When you tugged on Atsumu’s hand to indicate that you desired to follow the noise, a low whine vibrated inside of his throat.

“This is exactly what a couple does in those horror films before they get killed. Haven’t ya learned anything from Hollywood?” Despite his warnings and the anxiety swarming his insides, he trailed behind you closely, refusing to release your hand.

“Shh, Miya.” To drown out the laughter threatening to depart, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. The sound of varied giggles increased in volume until you reached room 204. What was strange about the guestroom was that the door was cracked open. Based on your research, each of the hotel rooms were said to be double locked. What made the circumstances significantly worse was that 204 was the room where the murders occurred… Not that you planned on sharing any of this information with the blonde male shivering behind you.

“L/n, I am begging ya.” He applied a bit of pressure against your hand, and regretted his decision to accompany you when he knew what was lurking behind the barrier would not be pleasant.

“Just a little peek, and we can go.”

You should have retreated when tiny needles prickled your palm as you ushered open the door, but you were far too stubborn to leave yet. And nothing could prepare you for the horrific sight that awaited you. In the center of the room stood a four-year-old boy with blood splattered across his face and a single hole penetrating his chest. His injured state did not stop the apparition from smiling ear to ear, and frankly that only added an additional layer of horror. Beside you Atsumu blinked wide eyes, unsure how to react to what had melted into view.

“No. Nope. No. We’re done here.” Releasing your hand, the setter scooped you into his arms, then began down the hallway before rushing down the stairs. He continued to utter his denial to the situation and refused to stop until reaching the parking lot outside.

“Miya!” Maybe it was his reaction that prompted laughter to erupt from inside you, or maybe you were terrible at handling distress. But you could not contain the melody that brought your chest to rise and fall, even after he returned you to your feet.

“We are not goin’ back in there. No.” The setter raked his fingers through his hair roughly, struggling to regain his composure. Did he really just see that? More importantly, why didn’t you listen to his warnings? And why were you laughing?! “How aren’t ya scared?!”

“I express my fear through laughter?” Your shoulders were pushed into a shrug as you delivered him a sheepish smile. Disbelief led the setter to lift a finger in your direction, communicating that he required a minute to accept this explanation.

“How about I get my things, then you and I go can grab some hot chocolate for your nerves.” Seconds after the suggestion was posed, you took his hand that was extended forward, cupping it with both of your palms. This was certainly not how you expected the evening to unfold. How could you have known that you would meet someone so fascinating and sweet as Atsumu while writing an article on a haunted motel? But you were glad you did. Not only did you secure details to an incredible story, you also thoroughly enjoyed yourself. It had been a while since you laughed this much – you missed it.

“Yah fine. Jus’ don’t bring back any uninvited guests with ya.” A dramatic sigh was blow out by the male to illustrate his exhaustion. If he saw another spirit today, he doubted his fragile little heart would survive.

“Oh, you mean like Haru?” Allowing your hands to drop to your side, you retreated a step away from him, prior to lowering an eyelid into a mischievous wink. The mention of the spirit’s name brought Atsumu to grimace. “I’m joking. I’ll see if his sister is available instead.”

“L/n! Stop!”

The whining of your name had never sounded more endearing, and for the first time this evening, you accepted that maybe just maybe...you weren’t the sanest.

Taglist: @newfriendjen @haikyuufairy @bringmelily @4fterh0urs @shegrewupwithoutafather @chocolaterumble @aquariarose @tsukkismamagucci @yourstarvic

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu imagines #atsumu miya #atsumu scenarios #atsumu fluff #atsumu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu x female reader

106 notes · View notes

g0dspeeed · 4 years ago

Text

Burning Love

Request from @leoncharme

What was supposed to be a relaxing day, turned into one of the strangest visits to Viktor’s clinic that V has ever had.

Hot grease sizzled deliciously in the large wok, the rich smell of savory noodles and synth meat churning V’s stomach even more. She stood near the food stall patiently, her eyes flitting through recent texts sent by practically every fixer in the city.

Ugh, I don’t need another fuckin’ car, she muttered as her eyes scoured all the vehicle offers made in the past few hours. Most were too tempting, too shiny, and V needed way too many eddies to make it happen anytime soon.

Deleting the final offer, V turned to take in the sight before her. The sun was high above the metropolis, caressing the Night City skyline in a golden light and warming the busy streets below. It was an easy heat, bearable, and a strong breeze cooled her off as it sifted through her hair.

Days like these were rare. Aside from the car offers, her inbox was light. There were no pressing contracts, no urgent phone calls from a fixer who needed a person shot, kidnapped, or rescued. No reminders to visit a drop box. No street races. No street fights to prepare for any time soon. Just a preem day for V to relax, eat a hot meal, and spend it with whomever she chose.

Which reminded her.

“Hey, double my order,” she requested.

The vendor nodded, and a smile tugged innocently at V’s lips.

When her noodles were ready, V paid the vendor and started towards her HELLA with a spring in her step.

Today’s gonna be a good one, she thought, allowing that bit of optimism to finally sink in. It’ll be-

A pause.

V barely heard it.

There.

Again, there it was.

The second time there was no mistaking the sound.

A high pitch yelp had caught her attention, followed by a low, pained moan. The source was near, but how close V couldn’t tell. She listened some more, but nothing stood out amongst the traffic.

Part of her thought to ignore it, both the sound and that damned intuition in her gut that said that something was wrong. Agony on the streets of Night City was as common as graffiti and a systemic issue far too big for V to remedy on her own, despite her impulsive need to save nearly everyone she comes across. V helped when she was able and often when she was barely so. Just her nature. Or more so a savior complex.

After lingering for a few more moments V decided to move on. Her noodles were getting cold after all.

Just as her hand pulled on the car’s handle, the sound ruptured again in a louder, more alarming pitch.

This time V quickly whipped around to scan the area with her optics. A tinted blue swept her vision, focus fleeting from object to object in view. It was there, resting against a bench that she spotted him. A clearly distressed man in a white and pink striped shirt was hunched over, sweat glistening on his forehead above a pair of violet visors. A gold chain dangled from his neck, catching a sun beam.

V stepped closer, but right before she could ask him what the hell his problem was, her voice caught in her throat.

Cupping his crotch, the man was naked from the waist down save for a pair of black tennis shoes.

V gasped.

Unfortunately, the stranger heard her. The man turned around and spotted the frozen merc, something like relief laxing his tense expression.

“Hey!” he cried.

He shuffled forward.

V shuffled back.

Her eyes tried to look at anything but what was in his hands. Anything at all.

“Hey, you!” he cried again. “I got to get to a ripper…”

The man’s whole body was trembling, and his voice was overflowing of desperation. She slowly allowed her eyes to fall upon his sweaty face as he panted, seeing his throat bob with each swallow.

Her pity outran her common sense.

“Alright,” V replied, discomfort heavy in her tone and eyes trying their best to look up towards the clouds.

“Great!” he heaved.

V’s brain was still trying to register her predicament, let alone the fact that she agreed to let this half-naked stranger into her car.

“Why’re we standing here?” the man stammered. “To the car! Now!”

A cry left him with enough volume to snap V to her senses.

Quickly, she slid into the driver’s seat. The lunch was placed in the back while her brain was trying to conjure up the fastest way to the nearest ripperdoc.

Though she knew exactly what ripperdoc was the closest, she hesitated. She hated this for him, hated that this weird-ass situation was what she was going to bring to his doorstep. V tried to think of any other clinic that was nearby, anyone at all who was available on such short notice. The reality was, however, that this was an emergency. Any moment the guy’s crotch could set her car ablaze, and ultimately her first option was the best.

When the passenger door slammed shut, dread had already started to climb up from her stomach into her tightening throat.

“Ugh,” groaned the man as their vehicle picked up speed. “Satisfaction guaranteed, they said…”

Ah, she thought. Of course.

V asked if he was referring to the Mr. Stud implant, the provocative ad flashing in her brain. When he confirmed her guess, she hummed in validation. He thanked her for her professionalism, for not being too judgey, given the circumstances. That was the most cordiality her newfound client provided, however, because for the rest of their short ride there was more screaming, moaning, and the demand that she mow down a class of children and pretty much everyone who dared cross their path. Telling him to chill the fuck out didn’t get her anywhere, nor did some scripted words of encouragement.

“Oh, it burns! It burns!” he near screamed, hurting V’s ears.

The moment they arrived at the clinic V didn’t waste any time. She quickly grabbed the bag from the backseat and directed the man to the green, neon sign on the other side of the alley.

“W-Where are you going?” he panted as she took off towards the clinic ahead of him.

“Giving the doc a heads up!” she called from over her shoulder. “Just come this way!”

Two steps at a time, V practically threw herself to the bottom of the clinic’s stairs. Stumbling, she burst inside, the metal gate grinding loudly through its shaft.

Viktor was already on his feet, no doubt startled at the commotion she was causing. Something between a smile and pure shock was spread on the ripperdoc’s face as he greeted the merc.

“Hey, V, where’s the fire-”

“I brought you lunch!”

V moved past him to toss their meal on his workbench. Some of his tools fell loudly to the floor.

“Aw, thanks, kid,” he said with a small smile, allowing himself to be touched by the gesture despite the rising chaos that was building in his clinic. “What’s going-”

“I also brought you a patient!”

Before the words registered, a harsh cry echoed in the large space. Viktor’s eyes snapped to the entrance of the clinic where a sweaty, half-naked man was leaning on the gate’s frame. The man’s hands were planted in the apex of his thighs. A sudden spark caused his body to jolt.

Like a switch, Viktor’s focus became sharp and alert.

“V, the chair,” demanded Viktor. “Stat.”

The merc grimaced as she hoisted the stranger up and led him to the operating chair. Viktor had already sanitized his hands and arms with a quick drying antiseptic by the time the man collapsed in place.

“Due to your compromised state,” began Viktor in a flat drone. V winced at how Viktor shoved his usual stimulant into his forearm, leaving behind a rounded wound that would join the other scars. “I am obligated to act on Article 23.4 of NUSA’s Good Samaritan Law to provide emergency medical care-”

“Shit,” moaned the man, his hands gripping hard at the armrests. “W-What the hell are you talking about? Just do your fuckin’ job!”

“Preem,” muttered the ripperdoc as he jabbed the man’s upper thigh with his medgun. The man yelped. “Pain should subside now.”

V suppressed a smile in response to the dry look that Vik shot her.

“Grab me two ‘Dorphs from that shelf,” he told her, a finger from his exoglove pointing in a general direction. “Need Beauts.”

“On it.”

As V searched his supply, Viktor gathered information from his new patient.

Despite knowing the ripperdoc for as long as she had and walking in on countless operations, seeing Viktor work in such a controlled, level manner calmed V’s nerves as well. A voice as rich as honey had that effect on people. The man made ripper work look easy, multitasking between running diagnostics, checking vitals, and laying a thin, surgical drape on the man’s exposed lap. Viktor kept the conversation flowing, delivering timely ‘mhms’ and repeating specs aloud for the recording program of his computer. He had an ease to his voice, something tranquil and trustworthy, even as Viktor pushed against the man’s chest when the guy tried to rise from the chair.

“Jesse,” warned Viktor calmly. “Easy there.”

If he wanted to put up a real fight, V doubted that Jesse had a chance against Viktor. The patient’s body squirmed under the force of one arm alone.

“Doc, doc, doc, you need to operate,” Jesse argued. “You n-need to-”

“Jesse,” Viktor snapped, and in response the man immediately stilled. Jesse’s lids seemed to then get heavier and his shoulders slumped.

“There we go,” soothed the ripperdoc with a smirk, his body stretching on his rolling stool. “Took your body a while. I gave you a little cocktail of mine, the Vektor special. Should feel nothin’ but good now.”

V set the requested meds on a metal table by his stool. Viktor grabbed one, shook it, and handed it wordlessly to his patient.

Turning on her heel, V was about to dismiss herself from the situation. Her role was fulfilled. The guy was maybe gonna be okay, and even though V interrupted several of Viktor’s appointments, she could at least attempt to respect Doctor-Patient confidentiality. The flaming crotch man seemed like a great place to start.

Just as she started to walk away, she felt a tight grip on her wrist.

“Nuh-uh,” said Viktor lowly, fingers giving a gentle squeeze. “I’ll need ya to stick around for this one, kiddo.”

“Think you got it, Vik,” she said with a grin. “Flaming dicks aren’t really my thing.”

“Oh, I know I got it,” he returned. “And flaming dicks aside, I’d rather have a second pair of hands should things head south. Normally I’d call for Misty, but she’s out today. Besides…”

Viktor rolled in closer to V, an air of confidence about him. V’s eyes narrowed.

“Would love to see you play nurse,” he purred.

A warmth stung her cheeks as she took her wrist back.

“So long as I don’t have to wear an outfit, I’ll help,” she quipped.

“Oh, don’t tempt me.”

The huskiness of his voice made her blush even more.

Viktor winked up at V before he turned his full attention back to his sedated patient.

Her attention, too, travelled back to Jesse as he huffed the med. Then, they fell on the surgical drape in his lap.

“So,” she prompted. “His dick was about to explode.”

Viktor hummed in agreement.

“You don’t, uh, seem that worried about it,” she went on.

A chuckle.

Even Jesse in his laxed state, sat up a bit for an explanation.

“We’re in the clear for now,” answered Viktor. More so to the patient, he added, “Now that you’re calm, your blood pressure isn’t forcing that faulty equipment to activate. Should be smooth sailing if you stay as relaxed as possible.”

“Oh, okay,” replied Jesse dumbly, no longer looking Viktor in the eye, but instead gazing up at the dark ceiling. “Um, what are, what are you going to do exactly, doc?”

“Gonna take that shitty tech out of your junk, Jess, that’s what. Guessing you got it for a steal, right? Black market shit? Some word from the Wise: Don’t ever accept tech that’s too good to be true. Ever. Especially if it’s an implant like this. I mean, you’re lookin’ at a few potential side effects that I can talk to you about after the procedure-”

“Wait, you can’t, like, fix it?”

Viktor sighed.

“Uh, no,” he replied flatly. “Not my specialty. And I don’t plan on being held liable for whatever, eh, works and doesn’t work. I can refer you to a guy I know in Charter Hill though.”

Jesse pouted in response, but after seeing how Viktor wasn’t going to budge on the issue, he consented to the procedure.

As time went by, V kept busy by fetching Viktor whatever supply he requested, whether it be more drugs, sutures, or gauze. Which was fine and ultimately best considering the kind of operation that was taking place. Not that V became squeamish around the sight and smell of blood, no. That wasn’t it. Just the nature of it all, that Vik was repairing a poor man’s augmented penis.

So much for a relaxing, care-free day.

The only saving grace to it all was seeing Viktor in his element. The man shined. He kept Jesse talking, eyes meeting his patient’s and on the monitor in equal measure, while also sounding personable and sincere. They exchanged stories about interests, about boxing matches they’ve seen, hobbies, some boring topics, some piquing her curiosity. Viktor’s voice held the same steadiness no matter the subject, and V’s heart warmed at watching him work with such care. Though she’s been in his operating chair herself probably hundreds of times, it was something special to see him work with someone else, to witness him calm even the most panicked of souls.

A goofy laugh gushed from Jesse, no doubt feeling the effects of all the medication.

“Ah man, you’re just so sexy,” he blurted.

V blinked at the realization that the comment was directed at her.

A listless ‘Mm’ was all she offered.

Viktor kept working, attributing the outburst to the drugs.

“I mean it!” said Jesse, misreading the woman’s lack of response. “You are just so gorgeous. So, so breathtaking. And you helped me-”

“I expect to be paid,” V reminded him.

“Yes, yes, and you deserve to. Yes, you deserve to! Doesn’t she deserve to be paid?”

Viktor offered a close-lipped smile in agreement, preferring to finish the operation as soon as humanly possible with the turn the conversation had taken. Just a few more stitches-

“Do you do advertisements?” continued Jesse, nearly sounding manic. “Do you? A supermodel maybe? You know, like a side gig sorta thing?”

V snorted.

“Nope, can’t say I would even want to, Jesse.”

“Huh, well, you should think about it. You would make a shit ton of eddies if you did, probably more than merc work. Not to objectify you, but like, you totally have the bod for the job.”

Viktor glanced up at V after that comment, his blood boiling at how Jesse’s advice rendered her speechless.

Not missing an awkward beat, Jesse then asked “So are ya single? Or is dating not your thing?”

V squared her shoulders.

“Don’t think you need to know that-”

“Come on! Gimme a hint. I mean, no judgment if you don’t date.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah, I can keep it loose. What about you?”

Viktor’s jaw started to ache from how hard it was clenched.

“Actually,” said V, her voice perking up. “I am dating someone. And I like the guy. A lot. Pretty solid, so not really looking for anything else right now-”

In a voice that Viktor could only assume was supposed to be a whisper, Jesse said, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt ‘im-”

A clank.

Viktor had put down a pair of surgical scissors so loudly that both Jesse and V jumped.

“V?” questioned the ripperdoc in a terse tone. “Mind grabbin’ our patient here a low-dose ‘Dorph for the road? ‘Bout finished up.”

A heavy sigh of relief left the merc as she headed towards the back of the clinic.

“You’ll need to take two huffs now and two more in an hour or so, okay?” said Viktor to Jesse, annoyed at catching Jesse’s eyes trailing after V.

“That woman,” he started to say, clearly missing what Viktor had said about the meds. “For such a smart mouth, she’s got a great ass, am I right-”

Without warning, Viktor’s fingers smacked the side of Jesse’s face with enough force to make him flinch. Stunned, Jesse immediately looked at Viktor.

Eyes locked on Jesse, Viktor called out to V.

“Hey, V? See any more of that stim I use? You know, the one that I need in case my hand slips?”

Some shuffling sounded from the back.

“Um, yeah,” she shouted. “Why?”

“I just did a lot of good work here on Jesse’s dick. Would hate for something to happen to it at the finish line.”

Jesse swallowed as he could feel the outline of Viktor’s intense stare past the tinted lenses. The ripperdoc sat close to his patient and spoke in a voice so dark that it made Jesse’s hair rise on the back of his neck.

“You’re my patient now, but the moment you step out of here, you’re just any other asshole on the street that hits on V in front of my face. Difference between now and then is that I’ll kick your goddamn teeth out on the curb should I hear another word out of that mouth of yours ‘bout how hot she looks and what the fuck she does with her body. You will pay her. Don’t care if you pay me, but unless you wanna know what the Bradbury sidewalk tastes like I better hear from V by the end of the day that you paid her in full for bringing you into my clinic today or so help you God I don’t find you and get those eddies myself.”

Jesse swallowed before nodding his head.

The only sound that could be heard in the clinic was V’s footsteps. She found it odd how still the men were sitting and how Jesse didn’t acknowledge her presence once she returned to the operating chair.

“Here,” she said to the ripperdoc, but Viktor shook his head at the stimulant she brought.

“You know, I actually think I won’t need it. He’s all set and ready to go. Aren’t you, Jesse?”

The guy would have some balls to respond. As expected, Jesse remained quiet. The ripperdoc’s back popped as he rose slowly from the stool, his body stiff from operating. He continued stretching as he walked towards the locker room area of his clinic to fetch Jesse a pair of stocked sweats that he set aside for patients.

V gave Viktor a questioning look and was met only with another classic wink.

“About my payment,” she began, turning her attention back to Jesse.

Still refusing to look her in the eye, Jesse stated, “I’ll get it to you in an hour.”

The man quickly dressed, thanked Viktor for his services, and rushed out of the clinic without looking back. Based on the smugness that Viktor carried himself with as he wiped down his workspace, V caught onto what happened.

With V’s help, the clinic was cleaned and prepped for the next fortunate soul who sought out Viktor’s care.

The pair were lounging on the ripperdoc’s crusty couch in the back of the clinic, their feet propped up on a stack of boxes with lukewarm takeout in hand.

“Not a fan of Jesse’s career advice, I take it?” teased V with a grin.

Viktor glowered as he swallowed a mouthful of noodles.

“Not a fan of really any advice he gave, no,” he replied coolly.

“Might lose future business,” she mocked, but he was already shaking his head.

“It’s all good. I’m eating lunch with a supermodel. Life can’t get any sweeter.”

#viktor vektor #Victor Vector #Viktor Vector #Victor Vektor #cyberpunk 2077 #ripperdoc #whats a short fic

45 notes · View notes

yumeka36 · 4 years ago

Text

The Frozen 2 prequel novel, “Dangerous Secrets: The Story of Iduna and Agnarr,” is scheduled to release on November 3rd. A preview excerpt was just released via this article from Insider.com. I pasted it below, with my thoughts following:

---

THE STORM IS GETTING WORSE.

Lightning slashes across an angry black sky, soon followed by the crash of thunder. Waves pound against the ship's hull as I grip the wooden rail with white knuckles. Fierce gusts of wind tug my hair free from its braid, and damp brown strands whip at my face. I don't dare let go to brush them away.

Instead, I keep my eyes on the sea. Looking for her.

In some ways, I've spent my entire life looking for her. And tonight, my journey may finally come to an end. Unfinished. Unfound.

Ahtohallan. Please! I need you!

Perhaps she never existed at all. Perhaps she was simply a myth. A silly song to lull children to sleep. To make them feel safe and secure in a world that's anything but. Perhaps I was a fool to think we could simply go and seek her out. Learn the mother's secrets.

I do know something about a mother's secrets.

Another wave sweeps in, bashing against the ship's hull, sending a spray of icy seawater splashing at my face. I stumble backward, momentarily blinded by the salt stinging my eyes. A strong pair of hands clamps down on my hips; a solid chest at my back keeps me upright.

I turn, already knowing whom I'll find standing tall behind me. The man who has been with me almost my entire life. The man who has made me laugh—and cry—more than anyone else in the world. My husband. The father of my daughters. My enemy. My friend.

My love.

Agnarr, king of Arendelle.

"Come, Iduna," he says, pulling me around to face him. He reaches out, clasping my hands in his. They are as warm and strong as mine are cold and trembling.

I look up, taking in the sharp line of his jaw. The fierceness in his leaf-green eyes. If he's frightened, he's not showing it. "We need to go below deck," he says, shouting to be heard over the furious wind. "Captain's orders. It's not safe up here. One rogue wave could knock you overboard."

I feel a sob rise to my throat. I want to lash out, protest the orders. I'm fine. I can take care of myself. I'm not some silly girl frightened by the elements.

But what I really want to say is, I can't leave. I haven't found her yet.

If I go below, I may never find her.

And if I don't . . .

Elsa. My sweet Elsa . . . My dear Anna . . .

Agnarr gives me a pointed look. I sigh, untangling my hands from his, and begin stumbling toward the stairs that lead to our cabin below, on legs unaccustomed to rough seas. I'm almost there when the ship suddenly pitches hard to the left and I lose my footing, grabbing on to the railing to save myself. I can feel a few of the crew watching me with concern, but I push forward, keeping my head held high. I am a queen, after all. There are certain expectations.

Once below, I push open our cabin door and move inside, letting it bang shut behind me. The captain has given us his cabin for the journey, which I insisted wasn't necessary, but I was overruled. It's the only cabin suited for a fine lady, he protested. Because that's how he sees me.

That's how they all see me now. A fine lady. A perfectly poised Arendellian queen.

But now, at last, Agnarr knows the truth.

I ease myself down on the bed, reaching to grab my knitting needles and my half-finished project. An inappropriate task under the circumstances, but perhaps the only thing that might steady my hands—my pounding heart. I can hear Agnarr push open the door, his strong, solid presence filling the room. But I don't look up. Instead, I start to knit as the ship rocks beneath my

feet. It's dark down below, too dark to really see the delicate yarn, but my hands are sure and true, the repetitive motions as natural and familiar to me as taking in air. Yelana would be proud.

Yelana. Is she still out there, in the Enchanted Forest, still locked in the mist?

Only Ahtohallan knows.

Suddenly, I want to throw my needles across the room. Or collapse on the bed in tears. But I do neither, keeping my attention on the unfinished shawl. Forcing myself to let each stitch lull me into something resembling comfort.

Agnarr pulls out a wooden stool from the captain's desk, sitting down across from me. He picks up a corner of the unfinished shawl, running his large fingers across the tiny stitches. I dare to sneak a peek at him, realizing his eyes have become soft and faraway.

"This is the same pattern," he says slowly. And I know what he means without asking. Because of course it is. I hadn't even realized it when I started, but of course it is.

The same pattern as the shawl my mother knitted me when I was a baby.

The shawl that saved his life.

"It's an old Northuldra pattern," I explain, surprised how easily the words leave my mouth now that the truth is known. "Belonging to my family." I pick up his hand and place it on each symbol in turn. "Earth, fire, water, wind." I pause on the wind symbol, thinking back to

Gale. "It was the Wind Spirit who helped me save your life that day in the forest."

He gives a low whistle. "A wind spirit! If only I'd known," he says, reaching up to brush his thumb gently across my cheek. Even after all these years, his touch still sparks a longing ache deep inside, and it's an imperative, not an option, to drop my needles to return the gesture. To run my fingers against the light stubble of his jaw. "It would have made my stories to the girls so much more interesting."

I smile at this. I can't help it. He has always found a way to help me find sunshine amidst the gloomiest of days. It's strange, though, to realize he knows everything now. After a lifetime overshadowed with secrets, it should feel freeing.

But in truth, it still scares me a little, and I find myself glancing at him when he doesn't know I'm looking. Trying to see, trying to know whether the truth has changed his feelings toward me. Does he resent me for keeping so much from him for so long? Or does he truly understand why I did it? If we survive this night, how will things change between us? Will the truth bring us closer together? Or tear us apart?

Only Ahtohallan knows. . . .

I reach out and take Agnarr's hands in mine, meeting his deep green eyes with my blue ones. I swallow down the lump in my throat that threatens to choke me, and force another smile.

"I will never forget that day," I start with a whisper, not sure he can even hear me over the tempest outside. "That horrible, wonderful day."

"Tell me," he whispers back, leaning in close. I can feel his breath on my lips. Our faces are inches away. "Tell me everything."

I swallow all the words that threaten to jump out of my throat in a hurried rush, throwing myself back on the bed, staring up at the wooden-beamed ceiling. After I breathe calmly, I say, "That might take all night."

He crawls onto the bed, lying down next to me. He reaches out and curls his hand into mine. "For you, I've got forever."

I swallow hard, tears welling in my eyes. I want to protest: we don't have forever. Or even all night. We may not have an hour, judging from the way the wooden beams of the ship are creaking and cracking. But at the same time, it doesn't matter. It's time. It's long past time. He deserves to know everything.

I swipe the tears away, rolling to my side and propping my head up with my elbow. "You have to tell your part, too," I say. "This story isn't only mine, you know."

His arm curls around my waist, his hand settling at the small of my back as he tugs me closer to him. He's so warm. How is it possible that he's still so warm? "I think I can manage that," he says with a small smile. "But you must start. It all began with you, after all."

"All right," I say, resting my head on his chest, his steady heartbeat against my ear. I close my eyes, trying to decide where to begin. So much has happened over the years. But there is that one day. One fateful day that changed the course of both our lives forever.

I open my eyes. "It all starts with the wind," I say. "My dear friend Gale."

As I speak, the words begin to course through me like the forbidding waters roiling outside. And like the waters, I will finally make myself heard.

Agnarr will listen.

He's always been the storyteller in our family. But not this time. Now it's my turn to tell the tale.

---

What stood out to me:

- It seems like Iduna revealed her past to Agnarr around the time they set sail for Ahtohallan, not the night of the accident with Elsa’s magic as Jennifer Lee, and I believe other sources, have implied. Of course, with “spin-off” content like this where the original creators aren’t involved, there’s bound to be inconsistencies. But Jen never stated that the time of Iduna’s reveal was definitely the night of the accident, only that she believes it’s that night though it could have been another night (I think this was part of the podcast interview she did several months ago). So yeah, the exact night it happened isn’t terribly relevant.

- This excerpt also reveals that Iduna revealed some of the truth to Agnarr early on, but then reveals everything in detail during their last moments before the ship goes down. So maybe she did reveal some of it the night of the accident but not all? We’ll see.

- Iduna knew Yelena. That makes sense considering Yelena’s age and the importance she seems to have in the Northuldra tribe.

- Iduna uses feminine pronouns for Ahtohallan, reinforcing the theory in my Frozen 2 book that Ahtohallan was viewed as a goddess of sorts in Northuldra culture

- Iduna also calls the wind spirit “Gale.” Obviously we all thought that was the name Olaf gave her but apparently Iduna did as well. Coincidence?

- The book is written in first-person perspective from Iduna’s point of view, unlike the previous adult-aimed Frozen books “A Frozen Heart” and “Forest of Shadows” which are written in second/third-person.

- Iduna was in the process of knitting another scarf while on the ship. I wonder why.

- The cover art for the book changed slightly from the original version, with the main image in the center being of Iduna and Agnarr when they’re younger instead of when they’re king and queen.

- I’m curious as to what kind of order the book will present the events of the timeline. Obviously this excerpt is from the end of Iduna and Agnarr’s lives, so will it start here and show everything else via flashbacks? Seems weird they’d choose the end of the book for this preview so my guess is that things will be revealed out of order.

#frozen 2 #frozen #disney frozen #frozen2 #queen iduna #agnarr

157 notes · View notes