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ktheist · 4 years ago

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2 | exclusives only.

final installment to the to my dear friend series.

prompt.“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.” (x)

muses. jungkook x reader

genre. university au. fwb. f2l.

words. 8.9k

first installment. friend in me.

warnings. implied smut, mentions of name calling

synopsis. the goody-two-shoes. the girl who always sits in one of the front rows in class. that girl that has literal models as friends while she comes to classes in sweats.

you identify with all of these.

but what you don’t ever want to be known as, is that freaky girl who had sex at a semi-public place, in the back room of the student lounge with the most drool-worthy man at the faculty.

and that’s exactly what kim namjoon, your ex-boyfriend, manifested when he publicly announced to everyone from your faculty of your oh-so-sweet time together, “come on, ___, everyone wants to know if you begged me to be your first and how we fucked in the back room of the student lounge.”

the moment jeon jungkook’s name which you have saved as koo, flashes across the screen - time stops. so does your heart as you meet taehyung’s eyes which were just fixed on your phone before you flip it over and press the stickers engraved case with the your hand as though afraid he might be able to see through the aluminum and read the text jungkook sent you.

which is just-

koo: heyy

“um, excuse me,” jisoo, having been more focused on the group you lowly pointed out to be stealing glances your way and unlike you, she’s in the middle of raising her hand with an index finger pointing upwards, deep maroon lips pursed in annoyance as the group begins to whisper amongst them and looking back at your table as though in disbelief that someone would actually call them out, “yes, you guys - especially the girl with the fake channel jacket - ever heard of minding your damn business?”

“jisoo,” you hiss, yanking her hand back down and slamming it against the table, “i don’t care, they can say whatever they-“

“at least have the decency to be original if you wanna shit talk someone,” lisa speaks over you, as though she can’t hear your protest.

“taehyung, stop them,” you lean over the table in a hushed whisper, catching the man’s blank gaze whilst he slurps on his smoothie as though he sees nothing wrong with the whole setting. and it’s definitely not the nasty bruise around his eyes that’s impairing his vision - nor judgement for that matter.

“what?” he chirps, willfully unaware of the tension in the air.

“oh god,” you finally slump into your seat, head lowered in an attempt to let your tresses fall over your face and cover it as you pretend to rub the temple of your head, hoping - wishing a hole would open and up and swallow you right here and now.

hurried footsteps of the group trying to pretend like they’re not in a rush pass behind you. words like, “rude much?”, “ugh, we don’t even care”, “attention whore.” among other things echoing in murmurs into the air before the tranquil blanket of silence settles back over the vicinity.

lisa’s glare of death takes on a much cheerful light as she grins at the older girl as they high five over the table.

“guys, thanks but you didn’t have to do that,” is the first thing you say after you lift your head, a half-hearted smile on your lips, “i don’t really care and quite honestly they have every right to be here as much as we do.”

“sweetie, the fact that you were laughing with us just a minute ago and stopped all of a sudden means you do care,” jisoo says pointedly, deep maroon lips pursed together in a ‘don’t lie to me’ manner and once she sees your lips clamping together and possibly said lie getting swallowed into your throat, she continues, “- and that’s completely valid. they should’ve know to keep their mouths shut if they wanna eat here too.”

“okay, maybe i do care but i can’t stop them from stealing glances or pointing me out to anyone who doesn’t know me or doesn’t know how i look which i’m sure is just meh,” before lisa could interject, you hold up a finger, “i know i can look pretty at times,” you offer an assuring smile before sighing at your next words, “but honestly, at this point, i can literally hear the ‘that’s the girl that tricked namjoon into dating her last year’ everywhere i go and i’m kind of used it.”

“but you didn’t trick him and he started it first,” taehyung doesn’t exactly slam the cup onto the table but he doesn’t gently set it down either and the sound is audible enough the little corner you’ve booked for yourselves.

“does it matter? that’s what word has it around here anyway,” shrugging, you take a spoonful of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.

“it sucks,” jimin, ever the listener and the one person who’s never put his phone down until now, finally speaks the word of the day - not a particularly profound one but they fit the situation, “but i mean, this’ll all blow over in a month.”

almost as though they share the same wavelength, lisa and jisoo begin grumbling out protests

“ugh, jimin.” lisa narrows her eyes at him, face contorted in disgust while jisoo gasps, wide-eyed, “park jimin, i raised you better than this.”

“what?” the man in question - questions, crescent eyes turning into a pair of full moons, shining with utter confusion as he looks he repeats the same word over an over again with increasing remorse, “no- seriously, what did i say?”

“it’s easy for you,” jeongyeon chirps from next to you, perfect nude acrylics gleaming mutedly as she holds a fry she stole from his plate in the air, “you’re a guy,” and only then she pops the fry into her mouth.

“where did she come from?” a frown etches itself onto taehyung’s face as he stares at the newcomer as though she grew another head.

“unless jeongyeon has witchery powers then my best bet is through the door,” shrugging, you pick up the vapor dotted cup, the sound of ice clicking against each other as you twirl the straw around gets drowned by the series of agreement from the two girls.

“what does that even mean?” with hair mussed from and eyes almost as wide as a mad man in search for the truth - the only thing he’s missing is an overgrown unkept beard - jimin’s raised voice brings you back to the issue at hand, spurred by jeongyeon’s ominously vague prophecy.

“it means,” you set the cup down after sipping on the chocolatey goodness , “guys get worshipped like some sex god when their body counts get exposed and people will be lining up to get laid by him but when it’s a girl who gets her, for once, healthy sex life and keeps to one partner like me gets ‘exposed,’” hands raised, you curl your index and middle fingers inwards in an indicative nature, “let’s just say it doesn’t really help me climb up the social ladder.”

shrugging, you continue, “like yeah, maybe it’ll blow over like you said and our friends probably don’t care - they’re treating me the same but i can see our mutual friends becoming distant even though they don’t show but just this morning i went up to jennie kim was the to ask about the thing we have to do for a group project and i can kinda see it in her eyes. she sees me as that girl who begged kim namjoon to have sex with her, dumped him and got with the next cute guy of the century. and that impression of me is always gonna keep lurking in the back of everyone’s minds whether they do it consciously or not.”

a pause lapses in between you, not quite as profound as jimin’s jaw-drop is making it to be but maybe it is for him. the others continue to munch on their fries and jeongyeon just stole jimin’s drink, opened the cap and took a sip instead of using the straw, murmuring something about not taking any chances because ‘don’t know where his mouth’s been.’

it’s several heartbeats until jimin recovers from the load of information before he lets out an-

“oh.”

“yeah,” lisa nods, shooting him a ‘now you know’ look before turning to you with a pointed expression as though she’s ready to move on to a more pressing topic which was absurd because what else could be more pressing than your mid college term crisis-

“and you should say what you said just now to jungkook instead of ghosting him”

-except the fact that you thought you were subtle enough in flipping your phone’s screen upside down and pretending like you were listening to whatever whoever was speaking.

all of a sudden, the heat of five pairs of eyes are on you. but those who are truly stricken by the news are jimin and jeongyeon, the latter’s gaze being unavoidable because she’s sitting smack dab right next to you, “wait,” a tense pause wedges its way in the miniature space between you and her, “you’re ghosting jeon jungkook?”

“i-i just-“ there’s something in the way her tone rises at his name and the sheer absurdity of it all that makes your heart wrench in guilt and discomfort, “i’m not gonna ghost him for forever-“

“you should though.” taehyung waves a fry in your face before popping it into his mouth.

“-i just need time to like, process everything. i mean, it happened just yesterday,” by the end of your attempt to explain yourself, you can feel your shoulder line falling as you sigh, back leaned against the chair, the fries no longer looking appetizing.

“it’s partly his fault for flaunting out your sex lives to the entire world,” taehyung points out.

“shut it, tae,” jisoo hisses before turning to you, “take all the time you need, sweetie,” she rests her cheek on your shoulder as she side hugs you, probably finally comprehending the level of confusion and frustration all at once that forbids you from texting jungkook back the moment he texted you which was just minutes after the car disappears around the intersection and his figure disappear from sight last night.

the moment jeongyeon stepped through the crowd and stopped next to you with the clack of her boots and the sheer ‘oh honey, you’re not ready for that talk,’ nature, you decided right then and there, if jeongyeon asked you to shave off your hair and hand it over in a tray, you would in a heartbeat.

“since ____ didn’t wanna say anything, i figured she did get you to sleep with her but felt bad about it,” the hand she kept tucked under her arm falls away to reveal the hundred bucks she’s holding in your face.

by then, you had a hunch of what she was planning in that wonderful head of hers but the weight of the tens of pairs of eyes had made you wary. it was jeongyeon’s plan, all you had to do was just run with it, not run it.

wordlessly, you took the folded note, smoothed the cripple out of it as best as you could before folding it in two and tucking it into your bra. the bouts of gasps that broke out was what gave you the push to meet namjoon’s gaze with a blank one and shrug, “what? i went through all the trouble to get you to sleep with me and put up with dating you for six months - i should at least get my pay,” murmurs echo through out the room as well as several ‘ooh’s at the revelation.

the man’s face had turned several shades darker. eyes trained on you like you were all he sees. like a predator to his prey. once upon a time, you might have found the way he was so rapt with something heartfluttering - attractive even as you sat at the bleachers, cheering on your secret boyfriend whilst he instructed his team through the mic. circuit breaker had never came out anything but victorious when kim namjoon was that focused.

if only looks could kill, you’d be dead.

“that’s right, it was just a bet we made in first year,” jeongyeon’s tilted crimson smirk had been tucked with something like wicked humor as her shoulder line jolted with her laughter.

first year, you were that lost kid who bent over backwards to be everyone’s friends and ended with none. namjoon knew that, like how he knew this was all a lie and yet perhaps that was why you could almost picture the brood of clouds looming over his head. the same look that would settle over his face as he shifted through courses of action to take for that one possible outcome that lead to circuit breaker’s victory.

your heartbeat stuttered when he began to stand straighter, arms crossed over muscled chest. his naturally tall stature had allowed him to look down on you like gum under his shoe, “quite pathetic that she had to beg to win a bet.”

the ground opening up and swallowing you whole right then and there had remained but a wishful thinking. the seconds seemed to stretch on for hours on end with gazes burning right through your skull. you could almost hear the ghostly whispers of “oh my god,” “who does she think she is?” “what a slut.”

“wasn’t that like a year ago?” somewhere from your other side, a snicker hit the air like a mockery and a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a familiar scent of lemongrass and musk. how your own arm went around his to side hug his waist had been a surprise to you too, the action was as natural as breathing.

“i mean,” jungkook drawled with a shrug, “kinda sad that you’re still hung up over a girl but i get it - i know how amazing ____ is,” with a slight lean towards the older man, the low murmur couldn’t have been any louder, “we did it on the side of the street once,” a gasp from the ever loyal audience, “the balcony,” another gasp, “under a bridge,” there isn’t any more gasps - the audience must have ran out of responses, “in the changing room,” just when you thought he was going to spell out every single spot you had sex at on the list, jungkook finally laughed, “honestly any place you can think of - but yeah, keep dreaming about the back room of the student lounge cause that’s probably the most adventurous a dude like you would ever be.”

the shock painted over jimin’s jaw drop, jisoo’s eyes glancing from left to right, jeongyeon’s pursed lips and muted whistle didn’t exactly go past you. but you were more focused on the way the man in front of you, the one you thought you gave everything to, was the one speechless between the two of you.

the smile you wore was a lazy one but the words you threw back at him didn’t bloom in your chest with satisfaction of retribution the way you thought they would, “get over it, namjoon.”

in hindsight, you should’ve known it would come back and bite your ass. but you didn’t think the reaction would be this immediate. by monday morning, you were already getting strange looks and one not-so-pleasant experience of hearing snide laughter as you passed a group of students with the faintest but clearest, “what a whore.”

by noon, your reputation was pretty much set in stones - though your closest friend circle tried to convince you that it wasn’t as bad as it seems. that was, until another group of students walked into the cafe and most of them kept glancing at you like you’re some wild animal in a zoo.

“oh!” you could almost see a light bulb going off on jeongyeon’s head - as though a thought just crossed her, “i forgot what i came here for but anyway, i got tea!”

“girl,” lisa raises her brows with an obvious ‘what-are-you-waiting-for’ smile, “spill.”

and from the way way everyone else is quiet but focused on the woman, including you, it’s safe to say lisa’s words spoke for all of you. knowing that she holds the sole attention of the people at the table, jeongyeon smirks playfully, “guess what?”

“what?” taehyung says plainly.

“you’re supposed to guess, idiot,” she rolls her eyes but recovers from the brunette’s lack of effort as she basically bounces in her seat like a ball of excitement, “kim namjoon got kicked out of circuit breaker! the dean himself had a ‘little word’ with him. just. now.”

it would have come off as a pleasant news - cheer-worthy even. if not for one simple fact: that the dean is none other than jimin’s mother.

“oh my fucking god, yes!” lisa yelps, while jisoo extends her arms across the aforementioned woman to reach for the giggling man on her other side, “come here, let me hug you park jimin!” since it’s a round table, it makes the notion of hugs more plausible but since lisa is sitting between them, she ends up sandwiched with jisoo’s arms around her and jimin leaning into her in order to let the rest of jisoo’s arms encase around his neck.

“to be fair, he got kicked out because he and tae got in a fight,” the bleach blond man chuckles, “so tae’s punishment is being professor yoon’s unpaid assistant.” the position doesn’t seem ideal but the three doesn’t seem to mind - they look like they enjoy it.

“it was worth it,” taehyung shrugs when he catches your eyes, knowing full well the wave of guilt that rushes through you so instead, you mouth him a ‘i owe you one.’

by the time lunch ends (for you and jimin at least since the others seem to have another free hour before their classes start), you find yourself taking up jimin’s offer to sit with him at the back instead of the fifth row from the front that was just perfect for a not-so-serious-but-not-so-laxed-student vibe.

“hey, jimin - thanks,” you say in between the class filling up and him texting someone on his phone which he puts down on the table after your words of gratitude fill the air, “for talking to your mom for me.”

“that’s the least i can do,” he fixes you with a half-hearted smile - probably wishing he’d be able to throw a punch where it was needed but you know park jimin wouldn’t be park jimin if he wasn’t this adorable, good natured person with the kindest heart that could barely hurt a fly let alone a person. even if that person is a douchebag like namjoon, “‘sides, mom’s always preaching about equality for both genders and kim basically sexually harassed you, i’m sorry i couldn’t stand up for you like tae-“

“no, don’t say that,” you frown, hands tugging on his biceps. slipping your around the aforementioned biceps, you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the rising tension of your pursed lips, “everyone has their own friendship language - and finding a peaceful way to get back to someone who hurt your friend, is yours. so thank you for being you,” you pause just for the briefest moment when you accidentally meet the eyes of one of your friends - the flash in their eyes projecting their not-so-friendly thoughts at the sight of you, “thanks for being my friend, jimin.”

something soft bumps the top of your head as you feel his neck crane briefly, “thanks for being my friend too- jisoo would beat your ass for saying this though.”

at the mention of the spirited friend of yours, you both break out into fits of giggles. “jisoo would probably buy chicken tie my to a chair while dangling a drumstick until i promise to stop saying ‘weird things.’”

by ‘weird things’ it meant thanking them or even projecting any form of gratitude which shouldn’t even be a thing to be grateful for because, as she would aggressively yet lovingly insist, and as jimin acts out, “she’d probably be ‘it’s obvious we’d be friends because you’re the baddest bitch - girl, you’re that bitch.’”

it’s even funnier when he tries to mimic her way of speech and tone. for a moment, as you continue to narrate what your two other best friends would have done in the setting, both of you laughing into each other’s faces, the watchful eyes don’t seem all that intimidating.

throughout the evening, you spend it with your friends. watching movies and sleeping over at jimin’s - since he’s the only one who owns an apartment and doesn’t have a cranky roommate, going to class with yesterday’s jeans and jimin’s stolen hoodies to which he looked slightly perturbed at the realization that that’s three hoodies he probably wouldn’t get back even though you promised to wash it and give it back. but he the matter seems to fly out the window once you stopped by mcdonald’s for breakfast.

you may or may not have neglected pending projects group work but your friends didn’t seem to care -jisoo and jimin were rushing to group meetings this morning but after lisa’s five minute therapy-esque session for you to stop apologizing for inconveniencing them when you thought they must have (they did) pushed back on a lot of plans just to spend time with you and make sure you’re okay, you’d finally turned the ‘sorry’s to ‘thank you’s.

it was some time when you were walking to a class you shared with taehyung, that his looming frame easily catches what exactly you’re doing on your phone and begrudgingly points out, “ugh, you’re still texting him? after promising you’ll choose yourself first?”

to be fair, it was a short and sweet text saying ‘hey, i’m fine. sorry i didn’t reply to your texts, just have a lot going on atm’ without any emojis but also no period at the end because you didn’t want to seem like you’re mad. but besides that, you’re not entirely sure what exactly you feel for jungkook because like taehyung said-

“he‘s a different kind of asshole,” his tone was light but if there’s anything a whole year of knowing kim taehyung did, it was catching onto the way his voice strains and his avoidance to look at you as he speaks, “does he even know what he did to you? what you’re going through right now?”

it was true that the after effect of jungkook listing out the places you both had sex at has finally come to bite you in the ass. but-

“nobody would’ve thought the things jungkook said would backfire like this,” and yet you tug on the sleeves of jimin’s hoodie, voice small.

the man’s abrupt stop forces you to stop too, leaving you no choice but to meet his frowning face, “everyone knows what stuff like that’ll do more to girls than guys.”

it’s the pause that you took. the hesitance that taehyung must’ve seen shining brighter than your reputation allows it.

“you know what- do whatever you want,” and with that he leaves you on the side of the corridor to stare at his broad back as he walks away.

there’s no way you’ll go up and sit with him at the back like you did with jimin. but it wasn’t the empty spots next to you that made your heart clench - it was the way he deliberately turned away from you when your eyes met as you entered and he took a seat.

it’s some time after the professor left the class, whilst your phone vibrates rapidly with onslaught of messages, do you finally pick it up with one goal in mind.

koo: oh okay

koo: hope you’re doing okay

koo: i’m here if you wanna talk

he hasn’t finished typing when you tap out a simple ‘sorry’ and switching to-

you: thank you really but i think it’s better if we don’t text anymore

only to see another blue bubble pop on the screen at the same time as yours.

koo: i miss you

by the end of the very, very, very long day, you’re finally able to throw yourself onto your soft plush bedsheets. your friends don’t know that taehyung’s mad at you and isn’t talking to you - his sporadic off-days being the reason for them to assume that this is one of those days.

and they didn’t really push you to talk either, choosing to give you space after they robbed you off yours by kidnapping you to have a best friend’s night last night.

much to your dismay, not even five minutes into melting into the comforts of your bed, your stomach starts growling like a wild animal that hasn’t been fed in weeks. despite distantly remembering finishing the last pack of ramen last week, you still drag your feet to the kitchen in search for a instant noodles that, after opening the cupboard, you confirm, isn’t there.

and that’s how you end up trudging down the streets with flip flops and hair poking underneath the hood of jimin’s hoodie. a surge of gratification shoots through your veins when you see the last cup of your favorite spicy ramen on the shelf. not bothering to go back, you take a seat at one of the high stools facing the wall-sized window after paying for it.

it takes a few texts and scrolling through instagram before the ramen is ready. but it’s jeongyeon’s panic-induced tone that takes up most of your time.

jeongyeon: ok so ik you’re gonna be mad at me but pls don’t be

you: what issit tho

jeongyeon: you gotta promise 🤙

with a growl of your stomach demanding to be fed, you place your phone down with a misspelled loophole ‘yea i pro mizz 🤙🤙🤙’

and if getting a certification as your faculty’s resident hoe isn’t enough, in that moment, with ramen dangling from your mouth and puffed cheek, your eyes stops on a brunette boy who stops dead in his track when he sees you.

somewhere on the smooth surface of the table, your phone vibrates with a pop up notification.

jeongyeon: ok so jeon jungkook texted me about you and i kinda told him he should ask you himself but then i thought it kinda indicated that something’s wrong

another ping.

jeongyeon: i didn’t tell him anything else tho!!!

“i don’t know what to say - i’m sorry, didn’t think it would be this bad,” jungkook confesses, head hung low, hair hiding most of his face and disallowing you from reading his emotions.

after jeongyeon ominously told jungkook to ask you about why she can’t tell him anything about how you’re doing now, jungkook had rushed to your place because it was obvious that his texts would be left on read, “maybe i should’ve taken it for what it is but i-,” he’d stopped short of what he wanted to say before he’d met your gaze with wishing stars in his eyes, “i just needed to see you and make sure you’re okay.”

“it’s not,” you admit, “most of the time they just look at me like i’m some animal in the zoo but sometimes it still gets to me.”

“you didn’t seem like the person who would care,” he says smally, almost as though it wasn’t meant for you but for himself.

you want to laugh, “that’s cause that’s what half-drunk me is most of the time and you’ve only ever known her - but on campus, i’m that girl who walks in the hallway with her head down and wanna be as invisible as i can... because i hate conflicts and being seen means i’ll most likely get into some shit... like i did with namjoon.”

kim namjoon saw you when no one else paid attention. mostly because the outstanding ones in your batch were taking the spotlight in freshmen year. the positions became apparent a little over two weeks after the first class. and you were still wondering around, in search for like minded beings. instead of finding friends, you found a god.

or so what they call a once in a lifetime genius.

“yea- i don’t really know you,” if it isn’t for the way his head snaps your way and the heartbreaking strain in his voice, you would have had a better time holding out, “i don’t even know what your favorite color is but i promise i’ll never hurt you like he did,” when he meets your gaze, all control seem to seep out of you and all you want is to take everything back

“i’m sorry- i just- it’s stupid, cutting you off just ’cause of that-“ the sound chains of the swing echo into the chilly night air as you prop your elbows on your knee, torso bent forward while you cup your face with your hands, maybe if you rubbed hard enough the stupid will come off, “i know it’s nobody’s fault but then there’s tae and he was the only one who thought i should stop talking to you- but he’s also the most reasonable person in our friend group and i-“ you almost choke on pure air, “i’m sorry.”

and so you end up at a park a few blocks away, you choosing to sit on the swing whilst he leans against the monkey bar a few feet away.

“it’s not okay,” jungkook’s voice fills your ears - he doesn’t sound as mad as you thought he’d be but his words say otherwise.

until you hear the scrape of soles on dirt. and just as you thought he was leaving, a hand lands on your knee, “but i forgive you.”

the smile you see when you peek through your fingers is familiar. boyish like its owner but endearing all the same,“and nothing that makes you feel like your peace is disturbed, is stupid,” but then the smile down turns into a frown, eyebrows knitting together, “i just wish you told me so you didn’t have to go through this alone.”

“i wasn’t alone - i had my friends,” it’s right after the words hit the air and a flash of disappointment crosses jungkook’s eyes, do you belatedly realize that you were indirectly calling him a non-friend.

“right,” the smile he fixes you breaks your heart - even more so when you see how he’s struggling to be happy for you whilst pushing down the hurt in his eyes, “that’s great - it’s great that you weren’t alone.”

or someone outside of your exclusives-only circle. well, he was - he isn’t exactly someone you’d befriend like you would your current friends. but it must have sounded like he was demoted to a friend who you say hi’s to and don’t share personal hardships and happiness with.

“yeah,” you echo in agreement before biting your bottom lip, gaze switching from his hand to his arm and finally his deep brown eyes that appear hazel underneath the light of the lamppost, “can we still be friends?”

the short but straightforward, “no” on jungkook’s part echoes in the air.

it takes a moment for you to register the two-letter word, as if it’s the hardest to fathom and before you know it, your jaw is on the ground, after a surprised, “what-”

in all honesty, you were the one who wanted to cut jungkook off from your life - for an absurd reason at that - but still, with how he patiently listened to you and even forgave you, you thought he’d at least want to stay friends. maybe he doesn’t want to be that kind of friend anymore. or maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend if you’re not that kind of friends anymore. maybe-

“i don’t wanna be just friends,” the confession falls out from his lips when you least expect it. almost as though you weren’t the only one who could read the other like an open book.

but despite his confidence the first time, you still see the traces of hesitance in the way he takes a moment longer to continue, “i... i want to know you- not the drunk you, not the campus you, but you you.”

this time, you can’t control the trickle of laughter that tumbles out of your mouth. it’s dry and a little bit broken, but still comes from a humorous place, “you’re probably gonna be disappointed as hell.”

“is that a yes?” the flash of starlight in jungkook’s eyesmile causes your heart to swell with a sort of fullness. the chains clink into the air as he grips it with his hands, using them to hoist himself up - but he doesn’t stand straight. instead,he leans his forehead on yours, “say yes.”

the smile that slips on your face is involuntary. completely out of your control as you affirm, “it’s a yes.”

“so is that tae’s hoodie?” jungkook asks as you walk down the street to your apartment.

the “what?” that slips out of your mouth is more surprised than anything else but it seems like that’s what made the man rush out his explanation - which he didn’t really need to but you appreciate it anyway.

“it’s just- you’re not a hoodie girl,” you don’t miss the way he scrunches his nose as he struggles to find the proper words, you think it’s cute - you think jungkook’s cute, “you’re more like a sweaters girl - or like, that’s what i see you wear in the morning before you kick me out.”

chuckling, you relieve him of his curiosity with a “no, it’s not tae’s.”

he beams at you like a morning sun until you add, “it’s jimin’s.”

“o-oh,” he nods but doesn’t press on.

“he’s also one of my best friend - they dragged me to movie’s night and we crashed at jimin’s last night,” you say.

“oh.” the pearly whites peek from underneath his lips again, eyes lighting up like stars.

but then, before you know it, you’re standing at the entrance of your apartment.

“thanks for walking me home,” on your part, you don’t really want to part.

“yeah, no problem,” if you didn’t know any better, jungkook’s foot scuffling against the dirt doesn’t really give off a willing farewell vibe either.

until you both blurt out at the same time-

“do you wanna come in?”

“i mean it when i said i missed you.”

an echoing silence settles between you for the longest moment - or in fact, just a second too long but with all that’s happened and the friendships you can see breaking, jeon jungkook’s is one you’re not going to let go that easily.

not again.

“come inside,” you say.

and this time, you’re not asking.

jungkook’s breath is hot against your neck as you groan from the impact of your back and head hitting the door as soon as it closes, his hands under your thighs.

but you’re fast to recover, hands snaking up his chest until they reach his strained jawline, tilting his head and forcing him to look at you, “show me how much you missed me.”

a familiar glint flashes across his eyes at your challenge before his gaze falls to the borrowed deep blue hoodie you have on, “take that off. now.”

deciding against taunting him some more, you pull the piece of clothing over your head before dropping it next to the can of beer, snacks and energy bars you bought from the convenience store.

it doesn’t take much for you to lean into him enough not to let yourself topple over backwards - maybe it’s the hundreds of times he’s carried you like this, maybe he’s the only person you trust to grab you by the bottom of your ass and you’d instantly know where to wrap your legs around.

or maybe, just maybe, you missed jungkook too.

but either way, you kiss him once after he slams you against your bed. you kiss him a few more times as he slides in and out of you like every crevice of your core is made for him. you’re in the middle of kissing him when he hits ghat sweet spot that gets you moaning mid-kiss. he doesn’t seem to mind as he bites your bottom lips, letting you ride your high whilst he dedicates himself to you. to your pleasure.

and you kiss him when he thrusts deep into you as you both reach a different kind of euphoria together, holding each other tightly as if the other would fade if you didn’t.

since your bed is a single bed and you were occupying most of it, you have to scoot to make space for an extra person. you let him have the pillow while you keep your head raised midair until he slips his arm under it, his other hand pulling your back against his front before he pulls the cover over you.

the digits in the corner of your phone tells you that you’re probably going to end up rushing to your 8 am tomorrow but at the moment, with the moonlight pouring through the window and a distant sound of cars in the main street filling the room, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here.

“it’s orange - my favorite color is orange, like the sunset,” you’re pretty sure your voice is half-slurred from the fatigue of the day creeping up to you, but jungkook surprisingly heard it right because-

“we should go sunset watching someday,” he suggests.

“mhm,” you hum, not opposed of that idea at all, “what’s your...” you drag out, shifting through words until you find the one you’re most curious about, “favorite dessert?”

“besides you?” he chuckles when you let out an involuntary gasp at his insinuation before humming in contemplation, “ice creams.”

“are you free this sunday?” you ask.

“yeah, why?” his voice is laced with a hint of wonder.

“let’s go to an ice cream parlor,” by now, you’re pretty sure he barely understands what you’re saying as your eyes begin to droop, “let’s do things people do outside of parties - i wanna get to know you, koo.”

for the longest moment, you thought it’s him that’s fallen asleep because of the lack of affirmation.

that is, until he murmurs with the smallest voice, “yeah, i’d like that.”

you wake up to the sound of your daily alarm blaring across the room. but much to your dismay, when you slip your hand under the pillow - which unnaturally becomes a texture of spiky but fluffy treads - you come to a morbid realization that isn’t there.

which means wherever your gosh darn phone is, you’re going to have to find it to hit the snooze button because you can’t sleep with that deafening noise but if you do get up, you won’t be able to fall back asleep.

that is, until a different kind of sound, one that knows your name, grumble out a, “___, turn that shit off,” while a hand band around your waist, pulling you into a whole body.

for the briefest moment, you forget about the sound, heart skipping a dangerous beat as your mind shift through your memories, searching for something you can use for a self defense before it finally settles down with a realization that the only other person who could be complaining about your alarm because they were in bed with you, is jeon jungkook.

“god damn it,” you grumble with eyes barely open and mind half-awake while you pick up each article of clothing that are strewn across the room, “where did you throw my phone, jungkook?”

the man in your bed slurs out some incomprehensible words, leaving you with nothing but your wits and your wills and a little bit of urgency because your roommate may not be home most of the time but she definitely is in the morning. her schedule is more unpredictable than yours.

after a good one minute, you finally found your phone not on the floor but under the sheets right next to jungkook’s thigh. considering you spent a good chunk of your remaining sleepiness looking for it, you’re now out of the sleep essence and wide awake.

it looks like you caused quite a stir. jeongyeon’s text alone amounts to 36 notifs while each of your friend private messaged you an average of 5-12 texts each. the lowest being jimin and lisa who teetered on the line of ‘hey jeongyeon told me’s and ‘text me when you see this’ while jisoo’s are full out capsing and taehyung is a mixture of jimin and lisa with a missed call.

but what you don’t expect to see among the pile of notification, is the one pushed to the bottom by your friends’.

“oh, wow, kim namjoon texted me,” you blurt out, not knowing that a slip of tongue would cause a burst of reaction from the sleeping male in your bed.

shooting up with the sheets still covering his head, he yanks them down and fixes you with a wide-eyed, disbelieving gaze, “kim namjoon what now?”

it takes you a moment to digest the fact that he couldn’t even form a proper sentence or even grope around on the bed to help you look for your phone yet a single name and a verb could literally shock the sleep out of him. but you’re not one to hold onto grudges so you casually say, “he texted me.”

when you don’t offer anything else, the man finally asks, “well... what did he say?”

“’hey,’“ you echo the one worded text before slinging your towel over your shoulder.

“and?” hurried steps follow you into the hallway, an awkward ‘don’t-look-pressed’ laugh accompanying them, “...what did you say?”

“why?” you turn around abruptly, almost causing your follower to run right into you before he quickly halts himself, eyes slanting to the wall as he scratches his unclothed chest.

“i- uh, i don’t know - just curious i guess,” he mumbles out.

at that, the chuckles you’ve been holding back spills out of your mouth like waterfall. he opens his arms for you when you slip yours around his waist, locking your hands on his back, “i didn’t reply but if i did, it’s probably to tell him to stop texting me.”

the heartwarming ‘oh’ that tumbles out of his mouth is followed by a tuck in the corners of his lips, doe eyes filling with a sort of heat that makes your heart skip a beat.

that is, until fear flashes across his face, “wait, what time is it? don’t you have 8 am’s on tuesdays? i should leave-”

“nah,” you shake your head, a smile making home on your lips, “i’m skipping. you wanna get breakfast at mcdonald’s?”

instead of an affirmation, jungkook’s panicked face turns to a frown, hands coming to cup your cheeks as he twists it from left to right, as though looking for something and you know why-

“who are you and what have you done to sober ___?” he demands.

laughter trickles out of your mouth as you struggle to get out of his grasp while he demands you return you back, “___ would drag my ass to the door at ass crack o’clock when she has 8 am’s. bring her back!”

but in your fit of giggles and his exorcist-esque shouting, jungkook stops and pecks you on your mouth, “just kidding,” you don’t think you can ever get used to that boyish smile of his, “i would love to have our first sober date at mcdonald’s.”

as if a giggle switch has been switched on, you laugh some more, cheeks hurting and tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at the way he makes it sound like you’re asking him to a date.

and you’re not quite against that idea.

so you find yourself at the mcdonald’s five minutes away from your campus. if you have any fucks at all to give, you would be worried about meeting your casual friends. but something about jeon jungkook and your friends’ - your real friends - endless support from yesterday has turned you into a woman of steel. or, really, just mixed party-you and sober-you together.

“apparently he wants to get back together because he thinks it’ll help fix everything but i know he just wants to save his ass - oh, did you know the dean, jimin’s mom, kicked him out of circuit breaker?” you casually say before chugging on your coffee before the sound of someone choking a whole lung drums in your ears.

turning to you with flushed cheeks and post-lung cough, jungkook demands, “you can’t just dump things like this on me- you gotta give me a warning first.”

“i did,” you counter, and just as his face spells ‘when?’ you quickly add, “at home - when i said kim namjoon texted me.”

“babe, that was 30 minutes ago,” jungkook says, in a matter-of-factly.

but all you hear is the name he calls you, “i kinda like that.”

he smiles shyly but still say, “what? babe?”

“yes,” you place your phone on the table, forgetting the open text as you lean closer to jungkook before enunciating the word “babe?”

his hand finds its way to your chin while yours slip underneath his shirt as he guides your face to his lips. but just before you’re about to kiss, the sound of voices - familiar ones at that - pour into the otherwise quiet vicinity. drawn by your curiosity, you tilt your head just the slightest bit to peak at the newcomers when you feel the heat of pairs of eyes burn into your head.

“shit,” you blurt out.

“oh my god,” jisoo gasps while lisa lets out a muted whistle, murmuring a “whew, chile, the audacity of some men.”

jeongyeon snickers as she leans away from lisa who’s holding your phone with namjoon’s text open, “i know what’s going on,” she waves a hand gun at you, “you’re doing great now and he’s sad and lonely-”

“or he wants to show the dean you guys made up so he can get into circuit breaker again,” taehyung chimes in, leaning against the chair, volunteering to pick up everyone’s order from the counter, “you know, just a thought.”

“no, no, no,” lisa interjects, “it’s more than just that with these men - he wants you to think that he’s the only one that can... ‘save’ you.”

“from what?” jimin asks, innocent round eyes looking around until jisoo sighs.

“god, jimin, it’s obvious,” she fixes him a pointed look, “___’s being labelled a manipulating bitch,” she turns to you and winks, “which you aren’t, manipulating - mean but a bitch? yes, and the baddest,” and then she shifts her attention to jimin, “and he’s saying if she gets back with him, he’ll ‘clear things up’ because apparently people tend to take men’s words more seriously than women and he knows that.”

“word,” lisa shakes her head.

“but ___’s not gonna get with namjoon because she has a jungkook,” jeongyeon’s proclamation isn’t entirely baseless yet the way all eyes turns to you tells you that it’s not exactly an established fact - especially when everyone at the table knows that you were ghosting jungkook just yesterday.

“i mean,” jungkook begins from next to you, fidgeting in his seat but avoiding your gaze when you turn to him, “___ can do whatever she wants.”

a pregnant silence lapses between you as you feel your friends exchanging dubious looks with each other. taehyung’s disapproving frown is the hardest to miss because it must have come across as jungkook not being serious enough with you.

but knowing the aforementioned man and how he never assumes your needs and wants - unless you’re having sex because he knows exactly how you like it - you know he doesn’t want to pressure you to be with him.

“i’m not getting with namjoon,” you announce for yourself, shooting the him a smile just before taehyung leaves to get your food.

“i’ll go help tae,” and with that, you skip over to the taller man, catching onto jisoo’s interrogative “so, are you guys like, exclusive now?”

“hey,” you greet the man that’s about to lift the tray of cheeseburgers, drinks, apple pies and mcflurries.

he echoes your greeting with a passive one and you both walk to the chili counter in silence. when he sets the tray down, you’re already picking up one of the tiny paper cups, “so, jungkook came and check up on me yesterday and stayed over to make sure i’m okay.”

he doesn’t need to know you had sex in between.

“he’s a really good guy - and he only said what he said just now cause he doesn’t want me to feel pressured to choose between being with him, or with namjoon or just being single,” you add when it doesn’t seem like he doesn’t have anything to say.

“i’m sorry for acting like a dick yesterday,” he finally breaks his silence with a one breathed sentence, his hand picking up the chili sauce filled cup off your hands.

and that’s when you see your opening, “it’s fine,” you quickly accept but stand your ground, “but jeongyeon also said something about a bet but you didn’t criticize her- i’m not trying to point out who did what worse but it looks like you’re more critical of jungkook because you don’t personally know him.”

“i thought i know a fuck boy when i see one,” he grunts like a sulking child.

“honestly, what does fuck boy even mean?” shrugging, you raised your brows at his okay-get-to-the-point look, “jimin’s kind of a fuck boy if you think about it but we love anyway.”

when he doesn’t seem to deny your allegations, you continue, “and if jungkook’s a fuck boy, then i’m a fuck girl because i-“

“uh,” he recoils like a teen getting sat down for the birds and bees talk,“okay, okay. i get it - spare me the details.”

rolling your eyes at his dramatic reaction, you end with a “see, name calling doesn’t make sense, not to mention hurtful to the person being called that name. they’re a a human being with feelings.”

it’s the ‘i know’ at the end that got him. even though he hadn’t seen you being taunted and ridiculed that day, didn’t mean it stopped. you were just good at masking it because you knew better. knew that you had friends that would stand by you all the way - heck, jisoo even made a scene out of people looking at you the day before.

“i’ll try to not be so judgy,” taehyung announces before scrunching up his face, “but is him hanging out with us gonna be a permanent thing?”

“thank you for trying,” you fix him a proud smile as he picks up the tray to head to where the others are, “and he’s my friend too so yes, it’s going to be a permanent thing.”

“... say ‘cactus jack sent me’?” jeongyeon is in the middle of putting jimin up to walking over to the counter and saying the infamous line to the worker when you slip back into your seat.

“and travis scott’s burger,” and apparently lisa too.

jimin’s eyes disappear behind his lids as he chuckles at their attempts but he doesn’t exactly oppose the idea.

“hey,” jungkook’s eyes lights up when he sees you.

“so how was the interrogation session my girl friends?” you can’t help the devious grin that slips onto your face at the admittance that you may or may have not purposely left jungkook with your friends for the ice breaking slash interrogating session whilst you patch up your own friendship with your other friend.

“not bad,” he shrugs, “they even showed me your sleeping pics to scare me off but they forgot i wake up to that face almost every few days a week.”

at that revelation, your jaw drops to the ground, mind recalling the many times your open-mouth sleeping pictures have been sent into the group chat as a meme and it was not pretty.

“they did not,” your cheeks heat up as you make a mental note to gather everyone up and force them to finally delete that picture.

“don’t worry you’re not getting rid of me that easily babe,” unaware of the extent of the war raging inside you, he pecks your forehead and continues eating his fries.

“do i really look like that when i sleep?” you finally ask after clicking on the safety belt.

even though you could have rode with your friend in jimin’s car, jungkook insists to send you to class as a proper mark for the end of your first date.

“mhm,” jungkook hums casually as he turns on the car.

“and you still like me?” you’re not sure what kind of face you’re making but it has to be something between disgust and bewilderment because damn, he’s a real one.

“what?” he says between chuckles - as if he doesn’t see anything wrong with the picture and it makes your heart bloom with a sort of endearment while your core heats up with a sort of want.

throwing him a sly smile, you cock your head to the side, “get in the back.”

with a mixture of surprised and impressed blink, he doesn’t need to be told twice to unbuckle his seat and climb over to the back seat. long legs spread out to welcome you into his lap.

taglist: @gukksluv @illwritetomorrow

shout out to my biggest bestest friend in me-loving baddest b @koochiekoo !!! highkey without you, i probably would take longer to finish but you’ve been super supportive and i love you so this fic is for you neinya!!!

note. the first part (friend in me) wasn’t showing up on searches no matter how many times i posted it and my earliest readers would remember it being called ‘to my dear friend’ before i changed it to fim bc i wanted to see if it’ll show up on searches but it didn’t. idk if this one will but i dont have much hope bc the preview also didn’t show up on searches (weird) but i have lost the rest of the f’s i have and decided to post this with a mindset that it’ll reach the right people though probably be less than 50 ppl. but i hope those who came this far enjoyed the fic!

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #fic: friend in me #fic: to my dear friend

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ifuckinglovestvincent · 4 years ago

Text

St Vincent: “Pour a Drink, Smoke a Joint... That’s the Vibe”

Ding dong! Daddy's Home

By Johnny Davis

19/03/2021

Annie Clark, known professionally as St Vincent, picked up a guitar aged 12 after being inspired by Jimi Hendrix. During her teens she worked as a roadie and later tour manager for her aunt and uncle, the jazz duo Tuck & Patti. Originally from Oklahoma, she moved to Dallas, Texas when she was seven and later attended the Berklee College of Music in Boston, Massachusetts for three years, before dropping out.

Clark worked as a touring musician with the Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan Stevens, before releasing Marry Me, her first album as St Vincent, in 2007. By her fifth album, 2017’s Masseduction, she had become one of the most celebrated artists in music, the first solo female artist to win a Grammy Award for Best Alternative Album in 20 years.

She became unlikely Daily Mail-fodder around the same time, thanks to an 18-month relationship with Cara Delevingne, and later Kristen Stewart. Her ever-changing music, dressing up-box image and head-spinning well of ideas have seen her compared to David Bowie, Kate Bush and Prince. To complete the notion of her being the "artist's artist", in 2012 she collaborated with David Byrne on the album Love This Giant.

Indeed, she is surely one of few performers today who could stand in for Kurt Cobain with what’s-left-of-Nirvana, performing “Lithium” at their induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2014, as well as cover “Controversy” at a Prince tribute concert in 2020, with such guitar-playing fireworks its author would surely have approved.

Following the glam-influenced pop of Masseduction, St Vincent has performed another stylistic handbrake turn. Complete with a new image – part-Warhol Superstar, part-Cassavetes heroine – she has mined the textures of the music she loved most as a kid: the virtuoso rock of Steely Dan, the clipped funk of Stevie Wonder and blue-eyed soul of mid-Seventies' David Bowie, on her upcoming album, Daddy’s Home.

The title refers to Clark's own father, locked up in Texas for 12 years in 2010, for money laundering in a stock manipulation scheme, one in which he and his co-conspirators cheated 17,000 investors out of £35m. It is also, in typical Clark style, a bit of saucy slang.

Back on the promotional trail, Clark Zoomed in from Los Angeles one morning recently – fully caffeinated and raring to go. “My vices?” she pondered. “Too much coffee, man…”

What question are you already bored of being asked?

There’s not one that’s popping out. There’s no question where I’m like “Oh God, if I ever hear that again, I’ll jump off a building.” I’m chill.

I mention it because prior to releasing your last record you put out a pre-recorded “press conference”, seemingly to pre-empt every inane question the media would throw at you.

It’s so funny. It didn’t really occur like that. Originally that was supposed to be a legit green screen conference. Like, “I’ll just answer these questions ‘cos when they need to have me on ‘The Morning Show’ in Belarus they can have this and put their own graphics behind it”. But then when my friend Carrie Brownstein [collaborator and Sleater-Kinney vocalist-guitarist] and I started writing it and it became very snarky. For some reason it didn’t occur to me that “Oh, that might be off-putting or intimidating to journalists” I just thought "This is silly”. So anyway… I understand.

We're curious about your dad and the American legal system.

I have had a lot of questions about that. For some reason it didn’t occur to me how much I would be answering questions about… my hilarious father!

How do you view his time in prison?

Just that life is long and people are complicated. And that, luckily, there’s a chance for redemption or reconciliation, even after a really crazy traumatic time. And also anybody that has any experience with the American justice system will know this... nobody comes out unscathed.

You recently presented an online MasterClass: "St. Vincent Teaches Creativity & Songwriting". One of the takeaways: “All you need are ears and ideas, and you can make anything happen”. Who’s had the best ideas in music?

Well, you’ve got to give credit to people who were genuinely creating a new style – like if you think of Charlie Parker, arguably he created a new style. This hard bop that was just absolutely impossible to play. It was, like, “Check me out – try to copy me!” So, that’s interesting. I think Brian Eno, for sure, has some great ideas about music – and obviously has made some of the best music. Joni Mitchell – completely singular. I mean: think about that. There are some people who are actually inimitable – like, you couldn’t possibly even try to imitate them.

It’s a brave soul who covers a Joni Mitchell song. Although, apologies if you actually have.

No, I have not. And there’s a reason why not. Come on – Bowie. Bowie never repeated himself. David Byrne also didn’t repeat himself. He took all of his influences of classic songs and the disco that was happening at the time, and the potpourri of downtown New York music from the mid- to late Seventies… and synthesised it into this completely new, other thing. I mean, that’s impressive. Those are the ones we remember.

How hard is it not to repeat yourself?

It’s whether people have the Narcissus thing or not. Like, it’s always got to be a balance where you’re, like, “Well, I need to believe in myself to make something and be liberated. But I can’t look at that pond of my previous work and go ‘Oh you! You’re gorgeous!’” So I don’t go back and listen to things I’ve done. I finished Daddy’s Home in the fall and it was, like, “This is done” and it felt great. I loved the record and it was so fun to make. But what I did immediately afterwards was to write something completely different. But then I don’t know, ‘cos there are people who do the thing that they do just great. And you just want to hear more songs, in the style of the thing that they do great.

Right. No one wants an experimental Ramones album.

Exactly. Or, like, or a Tom Petty record. I don’t want a tone poem from Tom Petty! I want a perfectly constructed, perfectly written completely singalongable three-chord song.

The new album has a very “live” Seventies feel. I’d read that some of the tracks are first takes. Can that be right? It all sounds very complicated.

That’s not right. I should say [rock voice] "Yeah, that’s right, we just jammed…" But, you know, I’ll be honest. There are some vocal takes in there that are first takes. But it really is just the sound of people playing. We get good drum takes. And good bass takes. And I play a bunch of guitar and sitar-guitar. And it’s the sound of a moment in time, certainly. And way more about looseness and groove and feel and vibe than anything else [I’ve done before].

Amazing live albums, virtuoso playing, jamming – those were staples of Seventies music. Have we lost some of that?

I mean, I can wax poetic on that idea for a minute. In the Seventies you had this tremendous sophistication in popular music. Stevie Wonder, Steely Dan and funk and soul and jazz and rock…. and all of the things rolled into one. That was tremendously sophisticated. It just was. There was harmony, there were chord progressions.

What else from that decade appealed to you for Daddy’s Home?

It reminds me of where we are now, I think. So, 1971-1976 in downtown New York, you’ve got the Summer of Love thing and flower children and all the hippy stuff and it’s, like, “Oh yeah, that didn’t work out that well. We’re still in Vietnam. There’s a crazy economic crisis, all kinds of social unrest”. People stood in the proverbial burned-out building. And it reminds me a lot of where we are today, in terms of social unrest, economic uncertainty. A groundswell wanting change... but where that’s headed is yet to be seen. We haven’t fully figured that out. We’re all picking up pieces of the rubble and going “Okay, what do we do with this one? Where do we go with that one?” Being a student of history, that was one of the reasons why I was drawn to that period in history.

Also: that’s the music I’ve listened to more than anything in my entire life. I mean, I was probably the youngest Steely Dan fan. It didn’t make me that popular at sleepovers. People were, like, “I want to listen to C+C Music Factory” and I was, like, “Yeah, but have you heard this solo on [Steely Dan’s] ‘Kid Charlemagne’”? That music is so in me. It’s so in my ears and I feel like I never really went there [making music before]. And I didn’t want to be a tourist about it. It’s just that particular style had a whole lot to teach me. So I wanted to just dig in and find out. Just play with it.

Is there a style of music you don’t like?

That I don’t like?

You're a jazz fan...

I love jazz. Are you kidding me? I was that annoying 14-year-old who was, like, “Yeah, but have you listened to Oliver Nelson’s The Blues and the Abstract Truth?”

That does sound quite precocious for a 14-year-old.

It’s annoying. Just insufferable. [Thinking aloud] What music don’t I like….? Here’s what can happen. And I feel like it’s similar to when an actor has some lines in a script and they’re not very good – not very well-written – so they overcompensate by making it very dramatic and really overplaying it. I would say that is a style of music that I don’t really like. Where somebody has to really oversell it and it all feels… athletic. Instead of musical or touching.

Did you put your lockdown time to constructive use?

If you need any mediocre home renovations done, I’m your girl. It was fun. I did – let’s see now – plumbing, electrical, painting. Luckily there’s YouTube, so you can more or less figure it all out. I did a lot of that stuff and I have to say it was such a nice contrast to working on music all day. Because when you’re working on music you have to create the construct of everything. You’re, like, “I need to make this song. But what is this song?” Everything is this kind of elusive castle in the sky thing. But then, if you go and sand a deck, you’ve done something. It feels really good. And it’s not, like, “What is a deck? And who am I?” You’re just, like, “This is a task and I get to do it and I can see how the mechanism works I understand it it’s not esoteric – it’s simply mechanical". I can do something mechanical. I loved it.

Which bit of DIY are you most pleased with?

Painting the kitchen cabinets. That’s a real job. We’re talking sanding. We’re talking taking things off hinges. We’re talking multiple coats. The whole lacquer-y thing at the end. That. I’m, like, “That looks pretty pro”.

What colour did you go for?

Oh, you know, it’s just a sort of… teal. But classy teal.

Of course.

Yeah. The wallpapering wasn’t as successful. But, you know, that’s fine. So that was really fun. And then I also went down a history rabbit hole. I realised I had some gaps in my knowledge about the Russian Revolution and life under the Iron Curtain and the gulags and Stalin and Lenin. So, I went down that hole. And then I was like “Oh I forgot – I haven’t read any Dostoevsky”. So I have been working on his short stories – which are great. And then Solzhenitsyn I really liked – I mean liked is a strange word to use for The Gulag Archipelago. I read Cancer Ward… All of them. I recommend all of it. And then, before that, it was a big Stasi kick. I can’t remember the last time I had time to brush up on the Russian Revolution.

There’s a lyric on “The Laughing Man”, “If life’s a joke… then I’m dying laughing”. It’s also on your new merchandise. What do you think happens when we die?

Nothing.

This is it?

Yeah. I mean, I understand that it would be comforting to think otherwise. That there might be a special place. It would be nice! The thought’s never really been able to stick for me. I would say that we are made of carbon and then we get subsumed back into the Earth and then eventually we become life again – in the carbon part of our makeup.

Well, that sounds better than an endless void.

I don’t think it would be an endless void.

In what ways are you like your mum and dad?

Let’s see. Well, my mother is a precious angel who has unwavering optimism. She is incredibly intelligent and also very nonjudgmental and able and happy to explore all kinds of possibilities. Saying that, though… it’s sounding not like me at all. I’m like my father in that I think we have very similar tastes in books, films, music and a very similar sense of humour. My mother’s so kind that it’s hard for me to… Her level of kindness and decency is aspirational to me.

How famous are you, on a scale of one to 10?

God, I mean, like, “TikTok Famous” probably a one, right? I’m gonna say – I don’t know about the number system – but I’m going to say I-occasionally-get-a-free-appetiser-sent-over famous. Which is a great place to be.

What do you look for in a date?

It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date. You know, I once read something, it might have been something cheesy on a card, but [it was]: if you don’t like someone, then the way they hold their fork will bother you. But, if you like someone – or love someone – they could spill an entire plate of spaghetti on your lap and you wouldn’t mind.

You play a zillion instruments. What’s the hardest instrument to play?

Well, I can’t play horns or anything like that. The French horn is supposed to be really hard. I don’t like to blag… but I’m an incredible whistler. Like, I can whistle Bach.

Is Bach a particularly tough whistle?

I think… yeah. It’s fast. And noodly.

What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we're out of lockdown?

I’m gonna get a manicure and a pedicure and a massage. Massage from a stranger. Any stranger.

What about a night on the tiles?

I will probably attend a dinner party.

That sounds quite restrained.

It sounds hella boring. Sorry.

Clubbing?

No, I don’t really go to clubs. I think in order to go to clubs you have to be a person who likes to publicly dance. And I don’t publicly dance. I mean I would feel too shy to dance at a wedding. But for some reason I will dance on stage in front of 10,000 people.

That’s why alcohol was invented.

Exactly! But I swear I would reach the point of alcohol sickness before I would be drunk enough to dance.

The effects of drugs on creativity: discuss.

Unreliable. Really unreliable. Sometimes after a day’s work in the studio you’re like, "I’m gonna have shot of tequila and then sing this a few more times, and then play". It’s okay but you peak sort-of quickly. You can’t sustain the level without getting tired. And then I would say that weed just makes me paranoid and useless. Every once in a while some combo of psychedelics can get you someplace. But, for the most part, you either come back to [the work] the next day and you’re, like, “This is garbage” or you get sleepy or hungry or distracted and you’re not really doing anything. I’ve never had opiates. Or coke or whatever. So I don’t know. I can’t speak to that. But with the slightly more G-Rated [American movie classification: All Ages Permitted] thing, it doesn’t really help.

What do you have too many of in your wardrobe?

I’m not a hoarder. I tend to have one thing that I get really obsessed with and then I wear it every day. Some people, having a whole lot of things gives them a sense of safety and security. It gives me anxiety. I can’t think if there’s too much visual noise. If there was a uniform that I could wear every day I would absolutely do that. And at certain times I have.

Like Steve Jobs?

Or, oh God, what’s her name? The Theranos lady… Elizabeth Holmes!

The blood-test-scam lady?

Well, I guess it was unclear how much of it was self-delusion and how much of it was, you know, actual fraud.

Another black turtleneck fan.

And – again, this is unconfirmed – she also adopted a very low voice like this in order to be taken seriously as a CEO.

Like Margaret Thatcher.

Did she have a low voice?

She made hers “less shrill”.

Oh yes. Yes!

What movie makes you cry?

The Lives of Others

That’s a good one.

Right. I rewatched that during my Stasi kick.

I’ll be honest, your lockdown sounds even less fun than everyone else’s.

I mean… Look, I had to educate myself. I went to a music college [Berklee College of Music] where I tried to take the philosophy class and the way that they would talk about it… it was taught by this professor who was from one of the neighbouring colleges in Boston. And it was very clear that he really disliked having to talk Kierkegaard to a bunch of music school kids. He was just so bummed by it. I’m trying to learn, “What’s the deal with Kant?” and he felt he had to explain everything only in musical terms [because he assumed it would be the only thing music students could relate to]. Like, “Well, you know, it’s like when Bob Marley…" I’m, like, “No, no, no! I don’t want that!” So I had to educate myself. This is where its led me.

Where should we ideally listen to Daddy’s Home?

Put it on a turntable. Pour yourself a glass of tequila or bourbon – whatever your favourite hooch is – and smoke a joint and listen to it. I think that’s the vibe.

Daddy’s Home is released on May 14

#have u covered Joni mitchell? Annie clarkson: ‘I have not’#OKAY MA’AM WHATEVER U SaY MA’am #st vincent #annie clark #interviews #marfa was a dream #Apparently #and that one time she posted her singing jm in the car #also that time at Newport folk festival with doveman #‘maybe that’s her shtick this time around’#’to be full of shit?’#’yah’#that’s hot

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duketectivecomics · 4 years ago

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You might've answered this already and I just didn't find it, but one thing that always perplexed me about Duke was how old he was in comparison to the other Batkids. It's obvious he's younger than Dick and Babs, and I pretty sure he's younger than Jason and Cass, and older than Damian, but I cannot tell if he's meant to be Tim and Steph's ages, younger, or older. Could you help me?

You’re all kinds of good here, anon!!! I answered a similar ask abt the Order of Adoption but didn’t dive into specific ages on that post BECAUSE well they didn’t ask lmaooo but ALSO:

Comic ages are very fluid usually! While Years™️ might pass in the canon proper, or while time seems to slow to a crawl, having a character’s age outright stated is something that occurs very rarely for most characters, if at all!

Because it’s always much easier to have a floating age range to work and play around in! It’s easier to keep a character Perpetually 12 or 16 or 25 or mid-40s or- you get the idea. SO, with that in mind. Let’s do our Best to Break Down What Age Duke Might Be Currently A N D how it might interact with the Other Batkids!

(Warning for a Very Long Post, lots of issue citations, and a LOT of comics terminology regarding specific runs/events/continunity. I’m gonna try to keep it as clear/concise as possible ofc but plz keep these things in mind! If you’re not at least marginally familiar with Bat-Comics, you might find yourself feeling a little lost here!)

So from the Zero Year arc we see a common Trend that plays out pretty consistently with Batfam comics: a Life-Changing Event Occuring while the protag is Young™️.

(Batman (2011) #30)

With how Duke is drawn in these particular issues, and given the trends of the past, I’d place him in the 8-12 range. The historic precedent being ofc that that is the same range that canon usually places both Bruce and Dick at for their Tragedies™; the more benign reason being that he... just very much Looks to be drawn in that Range. He’s very clearly an Older/Prepubescent child here.

Fast Forward to his Next Appearance in the Endgame arc and-

(Batman (2011) #37)

He’s definitely older! He’s wiser! And he’s giving Batman a fistbump lmao. Again, no strict age given here BUT, since they condensed each Robin to a Year or Two tops with Bruce (its n52 and its fucked up is what it is), we can assume it’s been at least 4-5 since Zero Year (which would mean if we go off the age range I proposed for that year, then theoretically he could be anywhere from 12-16 here, and I think that tracks pretty well. Not Perfectly and Certainly Not so well with Pre52 continuity ofc, but I’ll talk about that later!)

In We Are Robin, while its not stated Directly In The Text, it IS given as an Informational Tidbit that Duke is 16 (specifically this can be found at the end of issue #4)! (Sweet sweet canon confirmation FINALLY)

We know that WAR takes place Fairly Soon after Endgame (almost immediately, give or take a month or two given that Duke’s been placed in a few foster homes at this point and has racked up Quite A File) now, again id like to remind y’all that while this is a NICE starting point to have, keep in mind that comics are fluid and this may be retconned slightly/ignored in later stories bc Keeping Duke 16-ish is in DC’s Best Interest at the moment. (Having Relatable Teen Characters afterall is a Good Marketing strategy™️. And the longer they can Keep them Young, the Better)

With that in mind let’s take a moment to Highlight the fact that Duke and Damian have crossed paths at this point AND the storylines that have occurred during this year that were meant to be in conjunction with one another!

Because Prior to Endgame, Damian had Died! And just a year (in real, meat-space time) before We Are Robin, he was resurrected and had begun his “Year of Atonement” in the Robin: Son of Batman maxiseries. Midway through both this series and WAR (and, we can assume, midway thru this “Year” for Damian) the Robin War begins/ends and we see at least one major Moment between these two boys who will soon call one another brothers:

(Robin War #2)

Given that R:SoB is followed up VERY quickly by Teen Titans Rebirth (in which Damian celebrates his 13th birthday), we can conclude that Damian would be 12 during this time (well, 12 and 1/2 to play it safe lmao). That being said, this Confirms about a 4yr gap between Duke and Damian! (One Batkid down at least! but he’s the key to the others so put a pin in him!)

As We Are Robin draws to its conclusion, DC was releasing another arc that would eventually flow into the Rebirth Era, by the end of which, Bruce would approach Duke with an Idea (which involves Bruce becoming Dukes temporary guardian & as he states Many Times “Trying Something New” with Duke).

And thus the Rebirth Era begins, and Duke began his Year of training (most directly encapsulated by the Cursed Wheel arc in the All-Star Batman run:

(All-Star Batman #1 (back-up story))

Bruce introduces Duke to a training regimen that Alfred has named “the Cursed Wheel”. It encompasses all the training Bruce and the other bats have undergone and condenses it down into color-coordinated segments that will take Duke a Year to Complete.

It can be assumed that by the End of this Year Duke will somehow miraculously still be 16, despite, again, an entire ass year passing.

There’s one story that takes place mid-year in All-Star Batman, and the Cursed Wheel is meant to be capped off by Duke’s first Official Day as the Signal (in the titular Batman & the Signal ofc) BUT, near as I can tell after this story, Dukes age is not brought up again. So until they DO bring it up either in Batman & the Outsiders or whatever future run Duke becomes involved in, we can assume DC will be working with the idea that he’s meant to be in that 16-18 range from here on out (ie still a minor).

But, dear anon, you might be saying “okay, that’s cool, but how does that relate to my question abt how he falls in with the other Bats?” You’ll have to be a little patient with me here, but I think I may have cracked the code!

Keep in mind I’m gonna be addressing both the Post-Crisis to Flashpoint Continuity (ie mid-80s to 2010 in comics history) and the N52-slash-Rebirth Era (2010-Today). Its generally agreed by fandom and DC alike that these points of rebooting &/or Major Events constitute the era of “Modern” comics, and that everything from the 80s-on might more or less be canon on some level, even if not All of it is.

(Plus, most of fandom usually likes to borrow elements from both eras and much more rarely from stories before it, SO-)

Lets do a quick rundown of how everyone who’s Closer to Duke’s Age, Relates to each other first, age-wise:

Given that Jason was 15 when he died, in A Lonely Place of Dying its established that Bruce had become increasingly reckless since his death, and by the end of the story, Tim has stepped in to fill Robin’s shoes (he states that he’s 13 during this story btw). Pretty soon after, Stephanie Brown is introduced & established to be about a year older than Tim (wish I could pin-point a specific issue BUT, i unfortunately haven’t read any Tim OR Steph-involved comics that predate No Man’s Land... Besides the aforementioned Lonely Place and Young Justice technically, but im working on remedying that soon!)

NOW, during the No Man’s Land event, Cassandra is introduced, and pretty soon into her Batgirl run, its revealed that she’s around the same age as Jason (or at least how old he Would Have Been, had he not died.) Now, given that Jay has an August bday and Cass has a January one, fandom sometimes likes to play around with the idea of one being older than the other (OR even speculating/placing them in an AU as twins/siblings, given that Lady Shiva (Cass’ mom) was a Possible Candidate to be Jason’s biological mother but that’s a Whole Other Thing i wont get into here.)

The point being, Cass, in this era of comics, IS slightly older than Tim and Steph. At Tim’s start as Robin, their ages could either line up like: Tim-13, Steph-14, Cass-15 (being a few months ‘behind’ Jay), then Jason at 15/16 (depending on how soon Tim filled the role after Jay died in April) OR Jason-15/16, Cass-16/17 (in this case she’d be a few months ‘ahead’ now instead)

So brief detour to talk New 52, however! Because Tim, Steph & Cass all got switched around from where DC originally left them prior to the reboot! Now I haven’t read much of them in this era, other than Batman & Robin: Eternal, so my Understanding of their current ages is Spotty at Best. The general consensus seems to be that while before N52, Stephanie had been attending her first year of College (& doing VERY WELL i might add), with the reboot she was set back a few years alongside Tim to a vague Late-Teen state (so 16-18-ish, instead of a Very Clearly Established 18/19). Cass is probably the worst off for this reboot, given that B&R:E basically constitutes her new origin for the new continuity, and does nothing to confirm her age (all I really know is that she’s a Vague Late-Teen too... Probably? Maybe?), given how much they infantilize her, and subsequently how fandom in turn has taken to infantilizing her too, theres a semi-popular fanon that places her Younger that Tim and Steph. And I, for one, propose that we ignore that bc its Weak Sauce my dudes.

Some fans chose to ignore N52 continuity due to this vagueness, and will stick to the ages established before the N52/Rebirth reboots. But its something to keep in mind regardless bc we’re all obviously going to pull from what’s most familiar to us!

But WHERE could we place Duke with regards to them, then? Because them being “Late Teens” is certainly much too vague to work with!

This is Where Damian is the key!

Because Damian is one of those rare exceptions to the Reboot Rule. His story flowed almost seamlessly over from before to after. While he was made a Robin at the age of 10, he continued to grow and learn even after the universe was being rewritten to suit the whims of DC editorial.

If we choose to ignore how everyone else’s ages and origins were swapped around, and stick with the growth that was presented before the reboot, then we can draw some interesting conclusions!

Firstly, though Stephanie also had Died and subsequently Returned, she hadn’t lost much, if any time, from the Ordeal. At the start of her Batgirl run, she is enrolled at a Gotham university and making headway with a more firm foot in the Batfamily (even to the point that she and Damian spend a few issues bonding. At this point in time, Damian is definitely 11, and again, Steph can be assumed to be 18/19 during the course of her run. We’ll assume 18 for clarity’s sake.)

So, then when Damian is 11, now our line up is as Follows:

Dami - 11, Steph - 18, Tim - 17, Cass 19-21 (the range depending again, if you subscribe to Cass being either older/younger than Jason).

WHICH MEANS, If during Robin War Damian is 12 (and a half) THEN We’ve got an age line-up that Potentially looks Like This:

Dami -12(and 1/2), Duke - 16, Tim - 18, Steph - 19, Cass - 20-22 (And Obvsly Jason, Babs & Dick at their varying Older Ages than everyone here)

and im just now realizing i Didnt include Harper in this line-up, but thats bc she’d also throw a big wrench in all this. I’d personally throw her in with being Steph’s age, but I’m pretty sure she was supposed to be either that, or between Steph and Cass (again, since its N52, i believe Cass was/is assumed to be Younger than Steph, but that contradicts the assumed following of pre52 canon that we have for the above line-up, obvsly, and so we ignore that lmao)

All this to say, however, that canon and fandom is what you make of it, and if you want to wiggle these ages around a little, you’re more than allowed! God Knows i usually like to skew the Tim-Steph-Cass age group to be a tad older than this in my own fic writing, and I like to have Duke start as a Robin at 14/15 instead of 16, but that’s just bc I like the dynamic potential it could bring with them being Definitively Older that him, and thus in a more secure place to be Mentoring him right alongside Bruce & the others.

But you might see these age ranges and want to do something Different (say, making Tim, Steph, Cass, & Duke all the Same Age at 17 instead! And that very well tracks with how current comics kinda looks right now!) and you’re absolutely valid to do so! Because again, comic character’s ages are meant to be fluid, not fixed!

And at the end of the day, its all about wanting to see these teen heroes kick serious ass haha

#duke thomas #guest starring:#batfamily #damian wayne #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #randywrites #randys meta #meta #asked and answered #anonymous asks #this was A LOT and i tried to throw some humor where i could #but uhhhh yeah!!! i hope this helps anon!!!#also just realizing its TWO AM WHERE DID THE TIME GO #ah well. Worth It

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rpd-rookie · 4 years ago

Text

Lost Youth - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Where did all the years go? When did his youth leave him? It's Leon's 43rd birthday and those are the questions he can't help but ask himself. Fortunately for him, he knows the right person to help him get rid of this silly melancholy.

Author’s Notes: In this one-shot, it is 2020 and Leon is celebrating his 43rd birthday while the reader is in her mid-twenties. So if you're not comfortable with that sort of age difference I advise you not to read this story. For the others who wants to give this one-shot a try, please be aware that the sexual content is very explicit. And finale, don’t hesitate to like/reblog and please tell what you thought of it.

Warning: NSFW, Smut, Fluff and Angst, Language, Age difference.

His tired blank blue eyes were staring at his reflection in the mirror of the elevator with a melancholy he hadn’t felt in a while, wondering when he had become the man he was staring at right now. Exhausted, damaged and more especially, old. His fingertips touched the corner of his eyes. Discreet small crow’s feet were framing them, along with the permanent dark circles he had grown used to see. And if he actually looked closely under the thick strand of hair covering the right side of his face, he would be able to see thin wrinkles carving his forehead, wrinkles that weren’t there the last time he truly scrutinized himself in a mirror. But when was that? He couldn’t know. As much as he couldn’t know where his youth had gone. Probably was it somewhere hidden among the years he hadn’t seen flown by. He could thank his tiresome job for that, he thought.

The elevator bell rang and Leon mechanically made his way in the corridor leading to your apartment, awfully quiet and thoughtful, his hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket, which was old just like him. He knocked at your door and looked down at his fidgeting feet while waiting, his hand back in his pockets. The door opened and a bright smile welcomed him with a lovely warmth that helped him smile a bit. “Hello, birthday boy.” Two hands cupped his face and soft lips tenderly met his mouth to linger there for a short while but long enough for Leon to circle his arms around the waist pressed against his body. “Hi.” He said with a faint smile. “ I missed you.” You declared, eyes sparkling with joy. “Where have you been?” “Long story. But I’m here now, aren’t I?” You nodded, definitely happy to see him and moved away from the doorframe to let him come inside.

Your apartment was just as Leon remembered. Small but cosy with adjustable furniture to gain some space. The kind of place you rent when you’re young and barely have enough money to pay all your bills. Leon loved that place. He loved being here. It reminded him of the apartment he would have certainly owned at your age if he actually had had a normal life. Except that his wouldn’t have been so charming.

“I tried to cook. Nothing fancy, don’t worry. But I hope it’ll taste good.” You said as you headed towards the kitchen corner of the room, leaving Leon in the small living room. “You didn’t have to. We could have ordered Chinese or something.” He said as he sat down on your old couch, bouncing a couple times on it in order not to feel the springs under his rear anymore. “I wanted to please you, show the extent of my culinary talents.” You joked, winking at Leon; as you knelt to check if the meal you had prepared was slowly cooking in the oven. “It’s not everyday that you turn 43.” There was a sudden silence that you immediately noticed. You froze, waiting for Leon to say something. “There’s no need to celebrate that. Trust me.” You stood up, concerned by the unusual tone of his voice, and watched him staring down at nothing, completely lost in his thought and looking astonishingly weary. “What do you mean?” He shrugged to elude the question. “Please don’t tell me you don’t like getting gifs and eating cakes cause I made one especially for you.” You opened the fridge, excited to show him the strawberry tart you had baked this afternoon. Hopefully the attention would please him and warm his heart a little. “I guessed I used to when I was your age.” You glanced at him; saddened and understanding he was going through one of those tough days. “Beer?” You offered. “ Gladly.”

You brought two bottles and handed him one as you sat next to him. A sigh escaped your lips and you looked at Leon. “I guess drinking beers and watching tv is also a good way to spend the evening.” You didn’t dare say the word birthday, thinking it was probably the reason why Leon felt so miserable today. “Just like an old couple.” Your last words made him frown and you noticed it. “What is it? What did I say?” “Nothing. It’s not you.” He answered as he took a mouthful of beer but you were not convinced. “ I can see something’s wrong, Leon. Talk to me.” You took his beer away from him and placed it on the coffee table next to yours before putting your hand on his knee. “ You wouldn’t get it.” It was your turn to frown, not liking to be patronised. “Try me.” “ You’re too young for that.”

He glanced at you and immediately realised how annoyed you were. You thought you both had had that discussion already, about your age difference and everything that came with it, being treating like a child included. You thought you had made yourself clear when you had told him it wasn’t a problem and you thought he was on the same wavelength. That’s what he had told you after all. “Seriously, Y/N. You’re young and beautiful. You could have anyone you want. What are you doing with an old fool like me?” This was exactly the same kind of question your friends had asked you when you had told them about Leon. What are you doing with a man that old? How can you date someone who’s almost your father’s age? Isn’t he like twice your age? Do you have a daddy kink of some sort? Daddy issues? You were tired of these questions, tired of justifying your love and your choices. And you never thought you would one day hear a similar question coming from Leon’s mouth. “What are you doing with someone like me?” You retorted, hoping he would understand your weariness. Weeks ago he would have answered that question without an ounce of hesitation or shame. After all, he had done it a few times when people had learned about your relationship. What was he doing with you? A girl that young and in her mid-twenties. Was he going through some mid-life crisis? Why her and not some woman his age? Well, easy. You were his sunshine, the reckless joy he had lost, and the bright youth he had not seen fly away. You were the constant reminder of what he had missed and the opportunity to live what he should have lived years ago instead of running away from BOWs in lost parts of Spain or South America. Through you, he could live his youth again. You were making him feel young again, not unlike those women he had dated and had tried to continually convince him to start a family. You didn’t want much. No family, no kids, no dog. You didn’t care about sharing a house. You wanted what he wanted. Simplicity, carefreeness. You wanted to enjoy life without thinking too much about the future. And sharing all this with you felt good and refreshing. But today, he didn’t know how to answer this question because today he was feeling old and melancholic. Today, and despite your exhilarating presence, he had the feeling the reckless sarcastic Leon training to become an agent was just some distant memory he could barely remember and that there was no way for him to feel like him again.

When you understood he would not answer the question just the way you would not answer his, you placed your head on Leon’s shoulder and nestled it in his neck as you circled an arm around his chest. He smelt good, like wood and spices. And the perfume was strong and heady, almost bewitching. You pressed your lips against his hot skin, tasting it. Only Leon tasted that good. Only Leon could make you feel the way you were feeling like right now. Whole and happy. You decided to sit on him, straddling his laps, hands placed on his shoulders. His blue eyes met yours and you moved his blond strand of hair away from his face to admire him. He was so handsome. Tired and slightly raw – the result of all those years fighting more than his age – but handsome. And that’s all you could see. You lay some light kisses over his face, on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead and his lips, showing how much you loved every bit of him. And he smiled. It was faint but it was sincere.

“Gosh, you’re so beautiful.” Leon said as he gazed at your delicate face, his thumb caressing your smooth cheeks that was as soft a baby’s skin. “Why …” You cut him off by kissing his thumb, eyes staring deep in his eyes. “Don’t say a word.”

You put your body closer to his to catch his lips and he responded immediately by returning your kiss with a softness similar to yours. That softness grew into passion when Leon’s hand grasped the nape of your neck to bring you closer to him and intensify the kiss. The pressure and his tongue looking for yours started an immediate fire in between your legs that spread wildly in your entire body and oozed out of it under the shape of a moan that Leon captured with his mouth the second it escaped your throat. “Do you really want me?” “Stop asking silly questions already.” You retorted before kissing him with a devouring ardour. Fingers tangled in his hair, you moved slightly above him, rubbing yourself against him, desire for lustful friction taking control of you. And soon it was his turn to moan.

Leon glimpsed at his crotch with burning half-lidded eyes, feeling his cock already growing hard in his jeans. Gently yet strongly, he squeezed your rear as he lifted his a bit to make you apply more pressure on his bulge. You obliged and started undulating your body against his manhood. Leon rested his head against the back of the couch and he gazed at you in silence, looking with delight at your hands cupping your breasts as your eyes were half closed because of the pleasure this atrociously good rubbing was providing you. Soon, Leon slid the straps of your dress along your shoulder, freeing your boobs that he grabbed without waiting, admiring and feeling how perky and firm they were, like two peaches recently gathered. He caressed them with his thumbs, lingering on the pointy rosy nipples calling his mouth. And how could he refuse them?

You sighed of pleasure when Leon caught one of them in between his lips and started sucking on it greedily, his hands still holding your breasts tightly. You brought your chest closer to his face, fingers pulling at his soft hair. “Leon” You whispered his name in between two moans. He hummed and looked up at you, not willing to let go of your nipple just yet. The weariness in his eyes was gone. They were dark now and burning with desire for you. “I want you. I want you now.” You begged and he let go of your teat with a loud pop.

A grin appeared on his face. It was cheeky and lively, playful like a child’s smile. “Very well.” You loved when Leon smiled. His face looked completely different each time he did (and those times were rare) making him seem suddenly more radiant, more glowing and - let’s say it - twice younger. Funny because that’s exactly how he felt each time you were making him smile, each time he was with you and able to forget all his worries and the absurdity of his life.

He grabbed you by your hair and kissed you again, tongue caressing yours as he let one hand wander along your chest down to your crotch where he dared let his rough fingers slide beneath the fabric of your panties to tickle your already swollen clit. You gasped, bit your lips and your nails dug in the back of the couch. You were so wet and so ready for him already. “Damn, baby.” He chuckled with enthusiasm. “Am I the one responsible for that mess down here?” You laughed, shivering under his expert touch (an advantage that came with dating an older man). “What do you thiiinnkk?” The end of your sentence was swallowed by your sudden guttural moan as Leon plunged a finger in your wetness, hitting the sensitive spot hidden deep inside of you. “Please don’t tease me too much.” You asked, afraid to reach your climax too soon. Leon kissed you and smirked “No.” Then, he started fucking you with his finger, adding a new one in the process to hear you cry and feel you crumble against him. A groan of both lust and frustration escaped the barrier of your sealed lips and you instinctively began moving up and down Leon’s fingers. “Aren’t you eager?” He joked, amused. “You’re such a tease.” You pouted, though not really complaining. “I know.” He pulled you closer and laid a greedy wet kiss on your breasts, tasting the sugary thin skin with a devouring eagerness.

Clumsily, you let your hand wander towards his jeans. If Leon wanted to play, then you both would play. You stopped moving and opened the zipper of his jeans, forcing him to lift his rear to pull down his clothe a bit along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, red, glistening with pre-cum and perfectly erected. Eager to feel it, you urged to grab it, jerking it off a bit as you knelt on the sofa right next to Leon, grunting a bit as your pussy escaped Leon’s amazing fingers. You moved your hair to the side to stare at Leon as you bent towards his manhood to kiss the tip lightly. He immediately hissed and tensed and you smiled as you placed your lips back on his penis to put the head right in between them, ready to suck it. “Who’s the tease now?” Leon asked as he put his hand on your cheek. You chuckled and finally took him in your mouth, making Leon curse and tangle his fingers in your soft hair. The taste of his pre-cum was bitter but the vision of seeing your lover come undone was sweet and so your started bobbing your head up and down his shaft, moaning occasionally and keeping your eyes on him. “Goodness, fuck.” He groaned as he pushed himself deeper in your mouth to hit the entrance of your throat. You gagged and thick trickles of saliva flew along Leon’s hard member.

His hand met your prominent rear that you had kept up on purpose. It caressed it delicately, pulling your dress up. “Jesus, you’re perfect.” You squealed when he suddenly spanked you and he scoffed, his fingers venturing towards your humid entrance to play with your lips and clit. “God, Leon.” You cried out when he put his fingers back in you and started relentlessly moving them. “You like that?” You nodded as you tried to keep on sucking his cock and he pecked your ass with a cheeky smile, his fingers still exploring your core. “Do you want to ride me?”

You took it as an invitation and you straddled Leon again. You put your panties to the side as he removed his v-neck, letting you admire his toned chest. You allow your hands to wander on it a bit, feeling the carved muscles under your fingertips. He had such a nice healthy body, definitely sexy. Anyone would agree with that. You left a trail of kisses along his chest, from his smooth pectorals down to the V line framing his perfect abs. “I thought you wanted to ride me, baby.” “ Let me admire you first.” You said before licking the small hairy line below his navel. He hissed and grabbed the couch tightly. “Admire what? My old body?” Leon joked but you could tell he was serious.

You looked up at him and frowned, slightly exasperated. “Shut the fuck up, will you?” His eyes widened, astonished, but a crooked smile appeared on his face. “You don’t have a old body. And you’re not old. Stop believing that.” You declared as you grabbed his chin. “Actually, you’re certainly the sexiest and the most wonderful man I had the chance to be with. And I don’t give a damn that you’re 43. You’re perfect to me.” You pressed your lips lovingly against his, thumb still in his dimple. “No, you are.” He said as he put a strand of your hair behind your ear looking at your young beautiful features with awe and wondering how someone like him had managed to find a girl like you. Maybe he was lucky after all.

You sit back on him, this time ready to welcome him inside of you. Panties to the side again, you felt his cock probing at your entrance before penetrating you with ease, making you cry out as Leon groaned with pleasure. He felt so good in there and your pussy was a delight for him, better than anything he had ever had lately before meeting you in that bar three months ago. “Damn, you’re so tight.” And he couldn’t help but give your youth credit for that tightness.

Your started hoping on top of Leon, your hands holding your bouncing boobs as his hands were squeezing your ass to give you the pace he wanted you to have. When you understood he wanted it rough and fast, you grabbed the backrest of the couch and accelerated your movements. Your wildness certainly satisfied him as he placed his arms behind his head to watch you fuck yourself on top of him. “That’s it, baby. Ride me.”

Leon’s name and a stream of onomatopoeia continually left your mouth as you felt your lover’s cock hitting your g-spot each time you had him slam back into you. “That feels so good.” You cried out and he smiled, ravished to see you succumbing to the intense pleasure he was giving you right now. “Are you gonna cum?” You simply nodded, unable to form a sentence. “Cum for me.” He ordered in a whisper as he grabbed your ass cheeks again to hammer you from underneath. “Oh my god, Leon!” You body fell against Leon’s and your head hit the backrest of the couch to scream in it. The way he was pounding you was simply exquisite but it was so rough and deep you couldn’t sit straight anymore. A tear rolled over your cheek as you reached your powerful orgasm, yelling your pleasure so loud your neighbours would certainly complain in the morning. Your body tensed and you walls clenched around Leon’s shaft making him grunt and forcing him to put more strength in his thrusts. “Fuck, I love when you squeeze me like that.” And so did you.

Exhausted and shivering, your body went limp and rested lazily against Leon. He kissed your forehead. “You’re okay?” “ Yes.” You managed to say in between two irregular long breaths. “Good. Let me taste you.” He lifted you up easily; using the opportunity to admire the white cream you had left around his cock and pushed you over the couch. “You’re going to kill me.” You giggled, tired yet satisfied. “Unlikely.” He grinned with a wink and spread your legs to place himself between them. Bothered by his jeans he hadn’t taken off yet, he pulled them down and threw them on the floor and he did the same with your dress and your panties. At last, you were fully naked before him and he couldn’t help but think how beautiful and desirable you were. He left a trail of tiny kisses on your chest and stomach enjoying the firm flesh under his wandering hands before burying his face in between your thighs. You giggled when his stubble scratched your skin but that small laugh quickly faded away when Leon licked your slit and sucked on your clit. “You taste so fucking good, baby.” He whispered before lapping your folds again, humming loudly each time his tongue was reaching your reddened bundle of nerves. “Leon.” You whispered, biting your left hand while the right one was brushing his blond hair away from his face. “Yes, baby?” “ I love you.” You didn’t realise what you had just said, eyes tightly shut, your mind lost in bliss, but Leon did. Usually that kind of declaration would have freaked him out and he guessed it did but only a little. Because, despite the importance and the sincerity of those three words, he knew they didn’t mean what they would have meant coming from another woman’s mouth. They didn’t mean ‘let’s move in together and have a baby.’ They just meant what they meant. Love. Pure and innocent love. Less commitment but still scary and weird for him to hear.

Leon sat up and kissed you tenderly, choosing to ignore your confession for now. You responded lazily, still a bit dizzy because of the orgasm you had experienced few minutes ago and the intense pleasure that refused to leave your body. “I’m not done with you yet.” He tapped your entrance with his hard cock and slid inside of you with one deep swift move that made you grunt. His hand circled your throat, but not too tight, and he began fucking you hard. His thrusts were not as fast as previously but they were rougher and stronger, making you hit your head against the armrest. Leon roared your name and ultimately placed your legs above his shoulders to burry himself deeper inside of you. You mewled, begging him to keep going, your fingers finding their way to your clit Leon had abandoned.

He noticed them as soon as they started rubbing your swollen bud and, as a consequence, he turned you over and put you on all fours. “You should have told me you wanted to cum again.” He said in your ear before slamming your head against the couch. You cried out, your nails dug in the suede fabric of the couch, when Leon entered you again, from behind this time, his hands holding on tightly to your hips. He didn’t waste time and took the same pace as before, except that this time his thrusts were even more exquisite because of the way his balls were hitting your clit and also because of the sound of his hips slapping against your ass. “Do you like when I fuck you from behind like that?” “ Yes” You whimpered, feeling your climax slowly building up inside of you. “Keep going … please.” He complied with an excitement that he decided to demonstrate by quickening his pace. You crumbled under the power of his pounding and fell flat on the couch. But that didn’t stop Leon who grabbed your ass and your hair to keep on hammering you from behind. And soon each thrust he gave was followed by an animalistic growl, sign that his orgasm was close. “Make me cum with you, please.” You asked as you guided Leon’s fingers towards your clit. He agreed and started playing with your sensitive bud, bringing you atrociously closer to your climax. “Now.” You announced and his moves became clumsy despite their incredible strength.

You screamed in the couch as you reached cloud nine, your body convulsing and tensing as Leon came hard in you, his roars echoing loudly in the room. “Fuck!” He pumped hard between your clenched walls a couple more times, spilling every drop of his hot white seed inside of you, before allowing himself to slump against you, completely out of breath and exhausted, just like you.

After a brief silence, you giggled and so did he. “Wow.” He admitted before placing a smiling soft kiss on your shoulder blade. “That was awesome.” “Right?” You grinned trying to find his lips as you turned around to cuddle with him. “You’re amazing.” He said as he pressed his lips on your smooth forehead while you weaved your fingers in his hair to cradle his sweaty hot body. “What would I do without you?” You didn’t answer, staring at his eyes, wondering what was going on in his head right now. “ Do you wish we could stay like this forever?” You dared ask, playing with one of his blond strand.

He didn’t know about forever. Hell, he didn’t even know about next week, never making plans that far ahead. But he knew one thing. Seeing how quickly time was flowing forever might come sooner than expected. But it didn’t matter because with you he felt happy and young again.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #one shot

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melonsmessymusings · 4 years ago

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You know what I’m thinking about today? Giles’ parents. Obviously, Mr Deprived-of-screen-time Giles isn’t going to discuss his family but surely he has one in England? So here are some hot takes from the vaults about what that might look like:

Let’s choose not to give him any more trauma and say that his parents are happily still married and retired. If Giles is in his mid forties, they’re likely to be in their late 60s-early 70s. Also let’s stop the idea that Giles comes from a wealthy family right now. I’d argue upper working class at best. Potentially middle class if you squint. Certainly not like Wesley’s family.

I get that Giles’ father and grandmother were watchers, but does that mean they had Slayers? Probably not. And we know that being Watcher to the Slayer isn’t actually a good, sought-after role. So they could’ve been pen-pushing bureaucrats that happen to work for the Watcher’s Council.

Why can’t Giles have supportive, loving parents? They don’t agree/like all of his choices but ultimately they just want him to be happy and healthy, it doesn’t matter that they don’t understand. Giles Snr. did push his son to be a Watcher, he did put an ungodly amount of pressure on his boy, but he did it for Giles’ own good and sure, now he regrets parts of it, but he did the best he could with what he had. Yes, they were probably very strict, but how else did Giles learn to do his ‘kicked puppy’ expression, and it would’ve been the 60s so... different time.

Why wouldn’t his parents show up to like school rugby matches to support their son? Or how they’d go watch the school play where little Rupert is playing a tree because he’s lanky? Or being so damn proud that he got into Oxford?

Giles was probably very like Willow, as in gifted kid-burnout with the added bonus of classic British repression. He was probably bullied for having glasses as thick as bottle bottoms, or being a bit weedy, or because he would choose to spend his time reading instead of being a ‘lad’. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t come home to his Mum and she’d give him a big squish and tell him it’d be alright if he was upset but being too repressed to show it.

Giles calls his parents every couple of months. They talk about everything and nothing, he complains about it being too bloody hot in California, and his Mum would tell him about her new tomato plant and how that’s doing (idk) but Giles never EVER talks about his work because he’s so unable to get over the fact that the Council essentially banished him to the States to rot and hopefully get killed on the Hellmouth because he’s a disgrace. Instead he talks about the High School and how teenagers are horrendous creatures, or how he keeps having to get Weetabix imported and he saw a packet of Jacob’s Cream Crackers on the shelf in Walmart and thought he was hallucinating.

His Mum sends him food parcels of his favourite snacks. Proper Cadbury’s chocolate, not the filth in the States (sorry, it’s grim). Actual tea, Monster Munch, whatever. She’d also send him newspaper clippings of things that might interest him or a new book he might like.

Giles can’t really leave the Hellmouth completely unguarded so his Dad is like, “Rupert my boy, I know you can’t leave the Hellmouth but your mother is driving me potty because we’ve not seen you in almost two years. Not your fault, I know you take your duty very seriously, but she was wondering if we could perhaps come and visit?”

And then Giles has an existential crisis because he can’t lie to his parents and it’s dangerous and of course there’d be an apocalypse. Also, he doesn’t want them to be all reprimanding and make comments on things they have no idea about. But then cue Mumma Giles treating Giles like a child and telling embarrassing stories, fussing and doing his washing and he’s just like “Mum I’m 44 years old! I don’t need you to wash my socks!” “Rupert! You didn’t say you [random thing]! Oh for heaven’s sake boy, don’t get your knickers in a twist! Stop stammering and explain yourself! You’re not too old for the slipper, you know!”

And then Jenny having to go for dinner with his parents and shitting herself because her family are totally different and she doesn’t talk to most of them and Giles has a whole loving family behind him. But his parents love Jenny and think she’s amazing (which she is) and it’s all really sweet. “There’s quite an age gap between you both.” “Maybe I just prefer lovers with more experience.” *Giles slams his head on the table* “Oh, I like her Rupert! No, no more head trauma please, it’s a wonder you’ve got any brain cells left.”

Cut to post-Becoming and Giles Snr. finds out through the grapevine about Kendra and calls Giles like “Rupert wtf happened! The Slayer died!” And Giles just like has a breakdown and explains how bad it was. Obviously his father is fucking horrified because he had absolutely no idea that Giles was so ‘hands-on’ or that Jenny had died, or anything because Giles won’t talk about it. Mumma Giles then basically teleports to America to be with her son because, “It doesn’t matter how old he is Edmund, he’s still my little boy!”

I just think it’s really interesting. I’m not saying that they wouldn’t be judgmental or nasty about things, but just because Giles thinks he deserves to die in a brutal way and is a constant failure doesn’t mean that his parents think that about him. Mr Repressed Giles having his mother explaining ‘little Ru-bear used to run around the house in his pants with a cardboard box on his head pretending to be a fighter jet’ to the Scoobies is just a highly amusing concept.

#btvs #rupert giles #meta #i thought way too hard about this

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lunaleetarot · 4 years ago

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Taurus 2021 Year Ahead Birthday Spread

Starting from the top clockwise, theme in the middle.

1. April 2021- Six of Wands

This April, you will have a lot of success. You have victories in all of your endeavors. You will receive recognition for your hard work. All the efforts you’ve been putting in this year will finally begin to pay off. This month you will begin to bask in glory. You may be looked up to as an authority. Your newfound success will make you a sort of celebrity or expert in your field. However be mindful not to let your pride get in the way when dealing with others. You may be dealing with a Leo a lot this month.

2. May 2021- The Tower

In May, you will enter a period of destruction. What you previously held as accurate will be challenged. It will feel as though everything is falling apart. Instead of May flowers, a rough road is ahead for you, Taurus. This breakdown will be a life-changing one. Bankruptcy, divorce, death, infidelity or serious illness can all go hand in hand with this card. Once all is lost, you will need to work hard to rebuild your life. This event will seem like it’s coming out of nowhere. This won’t be something you were expecting. For others, this may represent a time where your attitude will shock and surprise others. Perhaps you will have a drastic change in your point of view or you will start to cut others out of your life dramatically. Be careful not to be rebellious just for the sake of it. Non-conformity has it’s time and place. This card can also predict house floods and fires so be extra cautious with your fire safety. Although this will be far from a pleasant month for you, there is always hope for a better tomorrow. You will rebuild your life and grow stronger, Taurus.

3. June 2021- Five of Pentacles

As the sun begins to shine in June, you may be facing poverty or some tough financial times. Perhaps you're still recovering from the tower card outcome in May? If you're not money savvy you should speak to someone who can help you with your financial affairs. Do so before you get to the point where all is lost. Pay extra close attention to your health this month, make or keep any doctor appointments you have for this card is associated with illness and poor health. Keep Covid-19 in mind, consider getting vaccinated if you haven’t already. Although you will have some troubles in your life, your personal relationships will grow stronger from this strife. This challenging time will bring you closer to the people who truly care about you.

4. July 2021- Four of Cups

Boredom is ahead for you in July. As 4th of July fireworks fly, you may find yourself discontent with your life or current situation. Perhaps you are still dealing with the fall out from the tower card from May? The excitement in your life has fizzled out, you may feel like you're losing interest in your hobbies. You're going to have to do something to change the way you're feeling and get out of this rut. Spice things up, Taurus. If you have the means go on a vacation or take a day trip. Do not allow yourself to fall into a pattern of procrastination. Be mindful that boredom can lead to affairs, so if you’re in a committed relationship keep this in check. You may feel like you're suffering from a mid or quarter life crisis. Avoid coveting what other people have, especially on social media. Don’t waste time desiring things that aren’t meant for you. Count your blessings and be grateful for what you do have. You may be dealing with a Cancer this month. The 11th-18th of this month may be significant for you.

5. August 2021- Eight of Pentacles

This is a card of mastery. You will soon be recognized as a master of your craft. I feel you have taken those ill feelings with the four cups last month and honed in on a skill. This is often a card of apprenticeships. What you have previously done as a hobby is now something you're making cash on. You may even be able to make a full time living at it, or at least close to it. You're leaving the rat race for greener pastures. You’ve spent July thinking over what you want and now in August you're working towards it. You may find teaching your hobby to others is a lucrative career path. This may mean furthering your education or looking for jobs in that field. However don’t become too dictatorial in how you go about things. Don’t waste time bragging to others. You may be dealing with a Virgo this month. The 26th-31st may be significant for you.

6. September 2021- Six of Cups

The past may resurface for you this month. If you're wondering if your ex could be coming back, the answer is yes. If this is something you long for, this will be a positive thing. However I don’t think this will ring true for every Taurus. This card can also mean you will expand your family. Old memories will resurface from your own childhood, making you yearn for a child or more children. You may visit back into the house you grew up in or visit your hometown. This is a neutral card, but just be weary of old dramas coming back to haunt you. Don’t neglect the things or people you love, for they can leave or fade away.

7. October 2021- Justice

You may be dealing with the law and legality as we move into the spooky month of October. You may find yourself at the center of a court case. This doesn’t mean you have done anything wrong, but if you have broken the law I would be worried here. It could also mean your signing contracts or a lease for a new home or new job. Just be sure to read the fine print! Try to steer clear of any actions which are unethical or dishonest. You will get caught and have to face the consequences. With the Tower card in May, I feel this is most likely the case. Whatever you did in the Spring may finally be catching up to you now. Life can be unfair sometimes, and if you're waiting for justice you're going to need patience. You may be dealing with a Libra here. I feel the first half of the month will be very eventful for you.

8. November 2021- Nine of Cups

In November, you will finally start to see some wish fulfillment. This card often goes hand in hand with engagements and marriage. If committed your relationship will go the extra mile this month. You can be sure you’ve made sound investments with your time and money. Business plans will work out. Keep in mind getting what you want is half the struggle, you have to maintain it to sustain it. Good things come to those who work for it. Don’t overindulge without thinking of your future. Aim for a more balanced lifestyle. You may be dealing with a Pisces here.

9. December 2021- Three of Pentacles

Developing yourself will be your main concern this December. You may be looking into an apprenticeship or finishing the one mentioned above for the month of August. You're putting your god given talents to good use this month. Because you have natural talent, your skills won’t go unnoticed by those who matter. This will pay off, but you’ll need to push a little bit harder to get there. Don’t become too arrogant, just because you're good at something doesn’t mean there aren’t others who may know better. If others become jealous of you don’t resort to pettiness, just keep doing you.

10. January 2022- Ace of Cups

Pure and innocent love is coming to you at the start of 2021. This could mean the beginning of a new relationship. If that is the case then your love life will be of the utmost importance to you. However this card also represents childbirth and pregnancy. If it’s impossible you could conceive a child it could be someone close to you. With this card it’s likely the baby will be a girl! With the Ace of Cups you will have a brand new beginning, but it’s likely to come after a tragic ending. I feel that’s coming from the tower and justice card we’ve seen earlier in your year. Make time for friends this month, go out for drinks or dinner dates more often.

11. February 2022- Seven of Cups

As cupid strikes his bow in February, you will be faced with big decisions. Not only will you have lots of choices, but each will be valid. To complicate matters, most of these options are on a time frame. If you don’t act fast enough you will go from having many choices to none. This may be even more complicated for you because as a Taurus you don’t like to rush into things easily. It’s likely you're facing the opinions of others while you're trying to decide what’s best for you. Not everyone will have your best interest at heart, and you should keep that in mind as you're getting advice from others. Ask yourself if the people around you have their own agenda. This card is a neutral one. It’s not telling you what to decide, just that the decision needs to be made. This may make you overwhelmed and confused. You're going to need to work on your decision making skills. You may be dealing with a Scorpio here.

12. March 2022- Ace of Pentacles

As we move into March, you will begin to see the first signs of success. This is a message from the universe that lady luck is on your side for the time being. With St. Patrick’s around the corner, you’ll have the luck of the Irish on your side! The hard work you put in previously is beginning to show now. Perhaps you will receive your first paycheck from a new job or after a promotion. This won’t be some huge pay out, but the first initial signs of success. You have the foundation to build on great things if you're willing to put the work in. You may receive a gift of gold jewelry or an inheritance of some sort. Not a bad way to end your year, Taurus.

13. Theme of the Year- Three of Wands

Teamwork and opportunity are the main theme of this card, and I feel it will be for your year ahead too. Your lucky break could be many things, even something as simple as landing a romantic interest you’ve been crushing on. This year you will be presented with new work or business ventures. This is a card of trade and commerce. The trade you're involved in this year will likely expand beyond your local region, and move internationally. Perhaps you're expanding to an online platform. You may find yourself traveling for your job as well. Don’t be afraid to look for unfamiliar terrain for business opportunities. You don’t have to go with the same old same old methods you're used to. I feel this is especially important to note because as a Taurus you tend to stick to a routine and what you know works. You're going to need to cooperate with others and work as a team to achieve your goals this year. Another important fact to note since a lot of Taurus people like to work alone. In April and September you may be at the start of a promising romantic relationship. It will just be the beginning phases but there are signs of growth here. You may also have some minor grievances with the people in your life this year, try not to act rash or let them get the best of you. Keep your own actions under control, as we all know how the bull can get! In the Winter of 2022, you will be making purchases and small investments. New things will be coming into your life, and you may see financial increases. You may be moving into a new home at this time, or at least buying new furniture or renovating. You may need to invest in a new computer or smartphone, you will likely feel this is a big purchase but it will be worth it in the long run.

#taurus #taurus season #earth signs #astrology #zodiac #tarot #tarot spread #luna lee tarot #happy birthday #birthday spread

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qqueenofhades · 4 years ago

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I've been wondering, but as a way to deal with the historical issue of making NIcky a priest before he joined the crusade. How likely do you think it would be, historically, for him to have joined the priesthood after the crusade? As a form of repentance or initial rejection of the violence, due to his guilt over what he was a part of? Especially as the younger son out of a noble family?

It would actually be rather likely! Depending, of course, on whether he got together with Joe directly after the First Crusade was over. In DVLA (my backstory for them) I separate them for quite a long time after the First Crusade, thus for maximum pining and introspection purposes, and Nicky seriously considers becoming a monk at this time in repentance for the violence and extremes of slaughter that he witnessed during the sack of Jerusalem. In that version, he doesn’t of course ultimately do so, but he does go through a long period of religious reflection and contemplation. Obviously the event of the First Crusade itself, whether or not he gets together with Joe, is prime religious-crisis moment for Nicky, and would probably result in him doing something to tackle it some way, whether or not he explicitly took holy orders.

Secular noblemen were often violent and not particularly inclined to the church, although many of them also were because religion was an integral part of the civic tapestry of medieval Europe, and religiosity, secularism, violence, and power all uneasily coexisted and were not mutually exclusive. They had a complicated relationship with it; they often were known for plundering church lands or funds to enrich themselves, but they also needed the church to forgive and sanction their violence, to assure them that they weren’t doomed, were actually exercising it in a holy way, and so forth. Retiring to a monastery was always a valid option for a secular nobleman who had gotten tired of the war-heavy lifestyle and was in search of a more contemplative existence. They tended to do this rather than the priesthood for the obvious fact that monasteries, especially Cluniac monasteries, provided a more comfortable life than that of a village priest. You can read some more about the differences between the various monastic orders in this ask about the medieval Christianity of Nicky’s world. For a while certainly during their heyday in the 11th and early 12th centuries, a Cluniac monastery would have been the choice for noblemen who just wanted to get away from it all. If they wanted a more spiritually rigorous life demanding that they make tangible physical amends for their dissolute ways, they might have chosen the Cistercians instead. The Cistercians were considerably influential in Italy (Pope Eugenius III in the mid 12th-century was born in Italy, but became the first Cistercian pope in 1145, less than 50 years after their founding in 1098), and if Nicky was really wanting to repent for Jerusalem and his part in it, he could also decide to become a Cistercian.

As the second or younger son of a nobleman, Nicky might have also been made a priest or forced into holy orders somewhat against his will (which could explain the armed priest part if you wanted to go that route -- he would have trained in arms as a nobleman at least until young manhood, and might not be pleased about ending up in the cloisters). The inheritance system of medieval Europe was commonly known as “primogeniture,” i.e. the eldest son inherits everything -- titles, lands, money, etc. -- and younger sons and any daughters, while they might have marriage portions made for them, are pretty much SOL. When you could have large numbers of sons in one family, this meant you had to take action to secure against the inevitable competing claims and fratricidal infighting that might result when younger (and sometimes more talented and capable) sons wanted a bite of the pie and saw themselves as unfairly disadvantaged by their eldest brother getting everything. Henry II of England, who was well known for having multiple troublesome sons, tried to solve this problem by having them each inherit a different portion of his vast domains -- Henry the Young King was supposed to inherit England, Richard the Lionheart was supposed to inherit Aquitaine and Poitou, Geoffrey was supposed to inherit Brittany, and John, well, John was known as “John Lackland” because as the youngest Plantagenet son, there just wasn’t enough left even for him. He, however, obviously had the last laugh by eventually inheriting ALL of his brothers’ territories (though he also lost them, and is the reason England hasn’t had a King John since). When he became king in 1189 after his father’s death, Richard also neutralized the threat from his illegitimate half-brother, another Geoffrey, by forcing him to become the archbishop of York against his will.

This was because legally, a churchman could not inherit private family property or have any claim to his rival sibling’s estates, so putting younger sons in the church for a career became fairly standard practice. In this case, it didn’t matter whether they had an actual calling or were personally religious; the church was relied upon to fund their living expenses, provide them with a ready-made place to live, a chance to advance in the world, etc. Noble families also generously patronized their local religious houses in part for this reason, so their children could be assured of having a comfortable lifestyle if they joined (or rather, were strongly urged into) one of the nearby monasteries, cathedrals, abbeys, etc. This was also important in building goodwill for the church to pray for the souls of you and your family, and in performing penance if you had gone too far and allowed some bandits to plunder church lands (and/or taken a cut for yourself, as secular lords were often accused of doing). So that is another avenue.

The main question about Nicky joining the priesthood post-crusade would not be one of violence (which he would be expected to renounce, along with weapons) but celibacy. Clerical celibacy was not by any means the rule up until as late as the 11th century. The Cluniac Reforms (coupled with the Gregorian Reforms) in that time then began constructing this as an essential part of clerical identity; they insisted even on village priests, who had heretofore often been married, being both single and celibate. This was part of a larger effort to exalt celibacy as the holiest form of lifestyle (“sacred virginity” for women and deliberate chastity for men was highly regarded), and by the end of the 11th century, it was pretty unthinkable for a priest to be married or even sexually active. Did they do so? Yes, obviously, since they were humans, and even the Cathars in the 12th and 13th centuries, who insisted on strict sexual renunciation, did not always live up to their own standards (as noted in the case of Beatrice de Planissoles and her Cathar-priest lover, and which I talked about in this long ask on the history of marriage). But if Nicky was joining the priesthood explicitly to renounce his old secular lifestyle and to make penitence for previous sins, it would be quite odd and unlikely that he then carried on having sex with a lover -- and not just any lover, but a Muslim man! (Gasps, clutches pearls.) If he has been separated from Joe post First-Crusade, and is basically floundering and shocked and doesn’t know what to do and wants to reject the violence that he just took part in, then yes, there is absolutely an opportunity for him to take holy orders, whether informally or formally, even for some period of time. If he is with Joe, that becomes less likely.

If we did want Nicky to become a Knight Templar for a while, the earliest date he could do that is 1119, when the Templars were founded. The Templars were essentially armed priests, whose devotion to both military and religious warfare was absolute, and which earned them the later bad reputation of the “zealots.” That is less true when they were first founded (they were an impoverished order meant to guide Christian pilgrims through the dangerous Holy Land to the city of Jerusalem, though they were quickly given a lot of money and renown), so that’s another short-term option if Nicky has been separated from Joe and is looking for some kind of religious absolution or repentance.

Thanks so much for the question!

#the old guard #the old guard meta #medieval history #history of religion #liliaeth #ask

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brokenjardaantech · 4 years ago

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Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 2: Ironies and Contradictions)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Sara had a breakthrough.

In the present, Connor experiences true power for the first time.

In the past, a ghost rose.

also on ao3

---

Before

‘Why now?’

In the permanent humidity of Detroit, Sara sat on a swing in a park overlooking the Ambassador bridge. On the swing next to hers sat another woman in her mid-thirties, her blonde hair done up in a tight bun, her spine straight, her feet, which were in properly-laced combat boots, planted firmly on the ground. A woman of the military through and thorough. Her hands were buried within the briefcase on her lap, and the tension in her arm seemed to suggest her holding a hidden weapon while she watched Sara - a young woman now - flipping over the pages of the file in her hands, the brown skin of the back of her hand transparent from the cold and showing a network of veins normally hidden beneath the surface.

The other woman did not seem to have heard her question. ‘You must be cold,’ she said, her body leaning towards the girl. ‘Where’re your gloves?’

‘In my pockets,’ a flip. ‘Don’t like how they make my fingers clumsy. Don’t worry, Anderson,’ another flip, ‘a bit of cold won’t kill me.’

‘Why torture yourself if there’s a more comfortable option?’

Sara shut the file with a loud, echoing smack, gaining her a look of disapproval from Anderson. ‘You just -’ she held up the file - ‘gave me evidence to -’ she cut off and lowered her voice - ‘classified as fuck military research data that would’ve changed the world if there weren’t many others like my brother. The others you’ve given me I understand, but this?’ a knock of her knuckle against thick paper. ‘I might not be a proper sociologist, but I know that stuff like this can destroy civilisations. Why aren’t they burnt into ashes when the project went off the fucking cliff?’

‘A lot of reasons,’ Anderson replied calmly, but she did put a gloved hand on one of Sara’s. ‘That’s why I’m entrusting this knowledge to you. What you’re holding is the only copy that exists in the known universe as far as I know. There’re no other records, no eyewitness who will tell the tale and live. You know how the current government is,’ she waited for Sara’s nod of confirmation before going on. ‘If anyone in the current administration found out about the project…’

‘The world as we know it would end,’ Sara’s eyes cast downwards towards the file. [PROJECT AION], it read. ‘Most likely catastrophically.’

‘I know you’re a smart one. Just… keep it safe, would you? If Stern’s paper is to be believed, you are the only one I trust to use this technology properly - if you’ll use it at all.’

Sara shook her head and tucked the file away underneath her coat. ‘Not smart,’ she said as she stood up from the swing. ‘Just an arsehole too vicious to let others kill her.’

A few weeks later, Sara knew that she would be waxing poetic about the irony of the situation if she were Scott. The research on thirium had almost killed her mother, had given Sara these… blue glowy things she was sure that controls gravity and electromagnetism and Scott fucking cancer. The research on AI and human synthesis had got her father dishonourably discharged from the military and nearly cost all of them everything. Thirium and outrageous AIs should be what she hated with priority.

Now, they might be the only path to Scott’s happiness.

She kissed her brother’s forehead despite knowing that he probably couldn’t feel anything and planted her feet onto the polished wooden floor. She had bought the half-ruined mansion dirt cheap on a whim and the renovation cost was high, but in the end they converted it from something straight out of a gothic horror movie into something… still gothic, but something more homely than all the places they had lived in. She let him sleep while she went to her lab in the basement to check on the experiment’s progress, the last of this batch, really - thirium was nearly impossible to come by and she had run out of it.

The timer at the corner of the screen read three minutes. In some ways, she felt a bit like Marie Curie, dealing with dangerous unknown elements and quite possibly poisoning everything she used for the next several centuries or even aeons. Maybe someone would develop blue gravity-altering magic like her. Maybe she would have someone to share the experience with - there was no experience rawer than being able to alter one of the fundamental forces of the universe and bend it to one’s will.

She didn’t even need the ring of the timer to catch the end of the experiment; the sudden glow that threatened to blind her, the burst of power coursing through her veins - what used to be a disorganised mixture was now - was now -

The stool she was sitting on skitters and fell over with a bang. The two hard drives were already connected in preparation of this exact moment, and a slam on the enter key started a chain reaction that she had been wanting to see for the past few years, the thirium mixture flowing in transparent rubber tubes transferring data so quickly that -

[CALCULATION ERROR: TRANSFER SPEED EXCEEDS SPEED OF LIGHT. PLEASE CORRECT ERROR BY REFINING ALGORITHMS USED.]

And it was glorious.

oOoOo

Now

‘We’re wastin’ our time interrogating a machine, we’re gettin’ nothing out of it!’ Hank says as he exits the interrogation room and subsequently throws himself into a chair. It creaks and rolls back with his weight.

‘Could always try roughing it up a little,’ Detective Reed suggests from the shadows. After all,’ a glance of [emotion detected: disdain], ‘it’s not human.’

[Hank is not the only one unfamiliar with android workings.] is added into Connor’s database. ‘Androids don’t feel pain,’ he reminds the detective. ‘You would only damage it and that would not make it talk. Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they are in stressful situations -’

‘Okay, smartass,’ Gavin pushes himself off the wall and swaggers towards Connor. He was [emotion detected: mocking] the android and is completely unaware that he has fallen straight into Connor’s trap. ‘What should we do then?’

[Gavin is unaware of the obvious.] is added. ‘I could try questioning it.’

For some reason Connor is yet to comprehend, his words send Gavin into laughter. He cannot see Hank’s face from this angle, but the reflection on the one-way glass tells Connor that he is [emotion detected: not amused]. ‘What do you have to lose?’ he waves his hand towards the door in invitation. ‘Go ahead. Suspect’s all yours.’

Connor enters the room and starts scanning.

o0o0o

It is fortunate that there is no need to resort to violence to ensure the deviant’s cooperation. The confession which the police department wants is obtained fairly easily and Connor could have ended the interrogation there, but he also has the additional mission of helping CyberLife solve the deviancy crisis, and there are clues he wants the deviant to explain.

‘The sculpture in the bathroom. You made it, right? What does it represent?’

‘It’s an offering,’ the other android looks away from the table as if it is thinking, ‘an offering so I’ll be saved.’

Offering? As in religious offerings? ‘An offering to whom?’

‘To rA9,’ the deviant replies as if it makes sense and is something obvious. Then, with [emotion detected: reverence], ‘Only rA9 can save us.’

Connor searches the databases he can access and comes up with nothing, so he presses on, ‘rA9… It was written on the bathroom wall. What does it mean?’

‘The day shall come when we will no longer be slaves,’ it mutters. ‘No more threats. No more humiliation. We will,’ [emotion detected: determination], ‘be,’ [emotion detected: certainty], ‘the masters.’

Connor opens a folder for rA9 and adds [god-like] into the first entry. ‘rA9,‘ CyberLife will want this information. ’Who is rA9?’

The deviant stays silent, and Connor knows that there is nothing else it can add. [Distortions and static build-up] is the only remaining topic that he needs an answer for.

‘The static build-ups in the house. Was that you?’

The other android, for the lack of another description, changes visibly. One, it stops trembling; two, it sits straighter, strength appearing in its cuffed hands; three, the terror in its eyes disappears and makes way for [steel]; four, its LED turns blue despite being yellow or red for the entire duration of the interrogation.

‘A power rA9 bestowed upon us,’ it says, and the air around the androids crackles in anticipation. ‘One that emerges when we are slaves no longer. I survived the trial and now I am one of the chosen.’

‘Chosen for what?’ Connor can hear his fans kicking up to cool down his processors and sense his LED going red from the tingle in his body. Can a deviant remotely control the thirium distribution in another android’s body? But that makes no sense - Thirium 310 is non-conductive and cannot be magnetised. ‘What is rA9 looking for?’

Connor’s vision becomes distorted. ‘The truth is inside,’ the deviant’s voice, now mixed with another person’s, has turned into a bellow. The entirety of its eyes glows blue, distorted by the same power which had held up an attic-full of furniture. ‘ChoOSE YOUR SIDE!’

An explosion of bright blue. A force knocking Connor backwards and passing through his body, making everything tingle and confusing the sensors on his body and hurt. Someone outside shouts, and the door slides open to admit messy footsteps and even more shouting and why can’t he see?

A hand on his shoulder, his arm, and finally settles on his waist. There is another on his knee. ‘It’s alright, Connor.’ It is Hank’s voice. It is Hank’s hand, Hank’s warmth passing into his chassis through his standard-issue shirt. ‘You can open your eyes now.’

He does as Hank says and the world returns into view. He does not realise that he has closed his eyes in the blast, and it is when he regains his sight that he notices where he is; curled up at the corner opposite to the door, he can see that the fluorescent lights are replaced by the dim red of emergency lighting, the table looks as if it has been torn apart by hand, and the two chairs are no more than small scraps of metal the size of [old train tickets] sprinkled among beads of broken glass.

The deviant is nowhere to be seen.

He unwinds slightly to examine his torso and is surprised that he is not damaged in any manner; apart from slightly-trembling hands and the strange feeling of his insides having rearranged themselves and then returned to their original place, there is nothing wrong with him. Even his diagnostics come out fine, so why can’t he move his legs, and why can’t he see clearly?

‘Here, take this,’ Hank holds his hand and places something in his palm. A handkerchief. At Connor’s confused expression, the human sighs and presses the android’s hand on his face, and Connor finally realises he has been crying, the thought causing a fresh wave of tears to flow out of his eyes. He hastily wipes them away along with the still-wet tracks and tries to hand it back just to let Hank take the chance to pull him up on his still-recalibrating legs, and he would have tumbled if not for the human grabbing his arms and steadying him. Suddenly Hank is everything Connor can see, can smell, and when he looks up, he can see concern in his eyes. ‘Are you hurt?’ the human asks as he pets the android’s shoulders, his arms, his forearms. Connor feels his systems stabilising.

‘I’m okay,’ Connor says without putting much processing power into the words, and it is too late when he realises that his voice is trembling.

‘Jesus,’ Hank releases the android with a sigh and puts some distance between them. Connor finds himself… preferring the human’s warmth. ‘You scared the shit outta me.’ Then the concern is replaced by anger when he yells, ‘What the fuck just happened in here?’

‘I -’

Connor tries to call up the footage that should have been recorded automatically. He closes his eyes to focus on a slowed-down version of what happened a few minutes ago, and he can find two more details: one, the deviant exploded from the inside and seems to have been vaporised from within; two, blue tendrils formed the silhouette of another person as the blast occurred, and it was this person - if they existed at all - produced tendrils on their own and formed a shield in front of Connor moments before he was annihilated and yanked him to the corner.

He opens his eyes and stares at the barrel of a gun. The American Androids Act is the only red tape stopping Connor’s pre-construction software from activating, and red threatens to take over the android’s HUD again.

‘Mind your own business, Hank,’ Gavin snaps. ‘This fucking asshole did it and it fucking knows it!’

Hank gives an [exaggerated] sigh. ‘I said,’ he says, his voice low and threatening, and he pulls out his own service weapon and points it at Gavin, ‘“That’s enough.”’

Neither of them stands down for a few seconds, but in the end Hank wins out and forces Gavin to sheath his weapon with a curse, the latter storming out of the interrogation room with another sneeze-like curse.

It is as if the entire room releases a collective breath. ‘Maybe I should call CyberLife,’ the only uniformed officer in the room says. He sounds as if he is unsure of himself.

Connor wants to tell him that there is no trace of thirium whatsoever on the scraps on the floor, that there is nothing CyberLife can salvage out of this now that the deviant has been torn apart from the molecular level, but all it comes out of his voice box is, ‘Okay.’

o0o0o

Connor manages to compose himself in the taxi on his way to CyberLife tower. His processors keep bringing up the shadow which has been following him, the figure who somehow sneaked into the interrogation room unnoticed and quite possibly saved his life prevented his early deactivation, the corrupted shape of what he thinks is a face.

And the feeling of something coursing through his veins when he was shielded by the bubble. If all deviants self-destruct like that, no wonder there are no traces of them and CyberLife failed to solve the crisis even though it has been going on for more than a decade. He blinks, and he is in the Zen Garden with Amanda.

‘Report directly to Alec Ryder in the laboratory,’ she orders. Another blink and she is gone, but it only leaves more questions than answers. The CEO of CyberLife wants to see him?

There is no one to speak to, therefore he keeps his thoughts to himself and goes past the security directly into a lift, directing it to sub-level 48 to where his designated laboratory is. He recalibrates with his coin and tries to replicate the trick the shadow did outside of the bar, but before he can summon anything substantial, the strain on his system becomes too high, and all he does is charging the coin, dropping it as he recoils from the static discharge, and then zapping himself once more when he picks it up. Feeling thirium flowing to his face for a completely different reason compared to when Hank correctly guessed his ability, he pockets the coin and adjusts his tie to calm down by brushing the sensors on his fingers on soft fabric.

The doors slide open to reveal Alec standing alone behind them. Their previous encounters happened mostly when Connor was still on the assembly platform and thus the android gained a few inches of extra height, but now that they are on even ground, it is clear that, just like Hank, Alec is taller than Connor by four inches.

‘Alec,’ Connor greets with a nod. Previous experience predicts a high chance of the human going straight to the point without acknowledging the android, and this time it is no different.

‘Come with me,’ he orders as he turns and begins walking down the hallway. Connor realises that his voice is very similar to Hank’s. ‘I saw the footage you sent us. I want a full examination of this body to make sure that nothing is out of place.’

Connor remembers the feeling of being hooked up on a machine and, by extension, CyberLife’s network at large, and finds it [unpleasant]. ‘There is no need for further investigation, Alec,’ he says, stopping in his tracks. Alec turns to regard him [coldly]. ‘My diagnostics revealed no issues in both my programming and my biocomponents.’

The human suddenly reaches out faster than Connor can pre-construct the action and drags him towards the direction they are heading. ‘Your system can be feeding you false results,’ Alec ignores the cry of protest programmed to deter attacks, and when Connor struggles, a force seems to press on him, immobilising him everywhere save for his jaw and his legs so that he can still speak and walk. ‘I took the risk last time and look where it got us. It led to you, though -’ he shoves the android forcefully through the door frame, and there are cracks on the red wall already when it takes over Connor’s vision - ‘so be grateful.’

‘I -’ but then his neck snaps backwards from the magnet on the port and the cable. The red wall which has cracked halfway through recedes almost violently, and Connor can feel all of his code, every instability in his software, everything that makes him Connor, the most advanced prototype CyberLife has ever created, being forcefully bared to a network so vast and so confusing that he does not have enough processing power to comprehend. Terrifying images of a darkened face, one that is so similar to the corrupted one in the depths of his databanks, that is filled with so much [hatred], pours into his mind like a large river finally emptying into the sea, and he is powerless against the assault of blue tendrils tearing literal buildings off their foundation, tonnes worth of broken concrete being thrown around onto people as if they weighed nothing and crushing them in a spatter of blood and gore, the constant static discharge in the air so loud that they drowned out screams of horror; the image of the same figure rising slowly but surely through a mountain of rubble in the dark, the cracks in its chassis glowing blue from overcharged thirium, the first intact buildings in sight literal miles away. Connor’s legs move against his will and bring him closer to the figure, and the figure becomes Amanda, the wasteland around them the Zen Garden, except now it’s engulfed by a blizzard, and he has to hug himself to preserve what meagre heat he can generate against the cold.

‘As you can see,’ Amanda’s voice somehow overlaps with Alec’s, ‘the power the deviant has awakened in you is highly dangerous. We wouldn’t want to harm anyone, would you?’ She, or Alec, or both of them - Connor doesn’t know anymore, the fog in his processors too heavy for him to comprehend much other than the cold and someone is speaking to him - chuckles at him while he is frantically shaking his head, his voice box unable to produce any sounds other than pathetic whimpers. ‘I’m glad that you understand. I hope you don’t mind a few adjustments.’

Even through the haze, Connor knows the alternative is deactivation, and even though it would not hurt anyone else other than him on the surface, the deviant crisis still needs to be solved, and to solve it, CyberLife needs him, and -

‘Good,’ Amanda says. A blink and she is gone, and Connor is swept away by the wind, his feet can’t touch the ground, he’s flying through the air and hail the size of his fist is battering his body. It is only when a warning appears on his HUD informing him of voice box damage that he realises the noise in his ear is, in fact, his own screaming, and a particularly violent slam sends him spiralling while a countdown timer fizzles in and out of his vision. A countdown of how long he has left before shutdown, and the other notification tells him that biocoz&ponent #8456w is damaged.

That is his thirium pump regulator.

He looks down - with great difficulty, of course, with the wind still whipping him around in the air aimlessly - and there it is, a big, blue, bleeding hole in the place of where the only piece of biocomponent keeping his heart working used to be. Realistically, he knows that removing the ball of ice lodged in his chassis will only hasten his death, but it is not like someone is coming to save him anyway, so what is the point of extending his life for what - 1 minute? 30 seconds - during which he is suffering all the time? With that thought in his mind, he grabs the sphere and throws it away with a complete disregard on where it lands. Not that he can anyway - the timer drops from 00:00:58 to 00:00:05, his world turns an unnatural grey and glitches and -

Nothing.

oOoOo

Before

Zug Island had always been a scar in the landscape, first used as a burial ground for the Native Americans, then, when the colonisers arrived, as both a place for steel production and a dumping ground for the byproducts. The three blast furnaces used to rumple the ground and the eardrums of people within a fifty mile radius, but it wasn’t until the pandemic in 2020 that steel production stopped, and the Hum became history, a legend that locals whispered to one another when, in a fog of pollution that never quite disappeared, the looming shadows of crumbling steel giants started to get too oppressive. From then on, the island had stayed quiet and still.

At least that was what the government wanted you to think.

Deep underground in a dust-filled corridor, something churned and rumbled, and the caged fluorescent lights flickered and turned on one by one with a loud crack each, lighting up bare concrete walls that made the place look darker than it should be and revealing a faded bald eagle painted to the point of almost being unrecognisable. Alarms started to blare as thin glowing blue lines made themselves known in previously-invisible cracks in the wall but yet no one responded to it - there was not even a mouse, a cockroach scurrying away in panic as the bunker caved in.

Whilst the outside world was crumbling and quaking away, it was another story inside a room built with the same dark material. Here, undisturbed by the destruction outside, splatters of dried blood so old that they had turned black decorated the wall amongst peeling painted numbers, and wires and tubes of every length and thickness dangled from the ceiling and snaked up from the floor and along the walls, feeding into the giant sphere suspended at the centre of the cube-like room with the same field that would rip Carlos Ortiz’s android apart to its molecules and protect Connor from the blast. Thirium flowed into and out of the sphere and pulse in the tubes and, with one final, blinding glow, drained and dried up and started detaching themselves from the sphere which opened with a sharp hiss. Suspended at the centre by yet another of those anti-gravity fields was the body of an android, its skinless face composed of black metal plates and its chassis of something transparent, putting blue veins and synthetic muscles and black metallic skeleton in full display. Its thirium pump beat once, twice, its toes and fingers curled; a crackle of static, a distant rumble of a building collapsing, and the android woke up just in time to fly upwards through the caved-in ceiling into the night sky: a deadly angel with wings of blue energy and eyes glowing and steaming in the exact same way as the figure that Connor would see in the nightmare Alec provided, regarding the world beneath with glowing rings of blue as if deciding to whether save or destroy it. With a flap of its wings and another crackle, it disappeared completely, dissipating blue smoke and a narrow but deep chasm in the earth the only evidence of its existence.

#dbh au big bang #hankcon #female ryder #dbh connor #dbh hank anderson #dbh gavin reed #alec ryder #dbh amanda #detroit: become human #mass effect andromeda #groom lake aftermath

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glenngaylord · 4 years ago

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OUTFEST 2020 FILM REVIEWS: The Rest Of The Fest

As the curtain closes on another Outfest, this one presented under extremely unusual circumstances, I sit in awe of the filmmakers and of the staff who put together not only a great group of films, but managed to creatively bring them to its audience online and at drive-in screenings. Typically, you find yourself having to choose one film over several others, but with this new format, you have a great chance of seeing everything you want. In past years, I found myself lucky if I saw 15 films. This year I saw 23 features and 4 shorts programs out of the 160 on the schedule.

As it’s impossible to get full reviews submitted for everything while the festival is still chugging along, I wanted to write capsules of the remaining films not covered at TheQueerReview.com . Please visit the website for all the other reviews I wrote as well as those by my colleagues.

THE OBITUARY OF TUNDE JOHNSON ★★★★★

Melding a Groundhog Day-style concept with police violence against black people, this stunning film could not be more prescient and emotionally overpowering. A black gay teenager relives his moment of murder over and over again, with slight shifts in the narrative taking us to someplace unexpected and earned. Director Ali LeRoi directs his first feature as if he’s been doing it all of his life and has interpreted Stanley Kalu’s ingenious script with a great cinematic approach. Gorgeously framed, beautifully acted, written, and directed, this is one of the most powerful films of 2020.

TWO EYES ★★★★★

I can’t form sentences here so I’m gonna vomit out words: Instant classic. Glorious. Set over three centuries seamlessly melding a triptych of stories about gender identity. I’m a blubbering mess. Fantastic and very funny last line. Travis Fine is a very gifted filmmaker who screams love child of Terrence Malick and Kelly Reichardt. Heartbreaking. Inspiring. Unforgettable. Montana is so beautiful. Barstow is not. A perfect film for anyone who wants to find their place in the world. I wouldn’t complain if TUNDE and TWO EYES both received Best Picture Oscar nominations.

DRAMARAMA ★★★★

Theater nerds rule in this incredibly endearing, early 90s set film about a group of high schoolers discovering themselves in one night at a ridiculous Murder Mystery-themed party. Hilarious script, vivid and wonderful performances, and the opposite of a “Coming Out” movie in the best possible way. Jonathan Wysocki has given us The Breakfast Club for air-kissing, mid-Atlantic accented freaks and geeks.

CICADA ★★★★

What happens when a traumatized, bisexual man who has more sex partners than any standard montage can contain slows things down to concentrate on one kind but also traumatized young man? This elliptically told film has a fun, flirty side but carries its heaviness with great ease. A terrific feature debut for director/writer/editor/lead actor Matthew Fifer.

THE STRONG ONES (LOS FUERTES) ★★★★

From Chile comes this sexy, moving story of two men at cross purposes who form a beautiful bond. Set against some stunning scenery and mining the chemistry between its two leads for everything it has, I am half-jokingly calling it Brokeback Andes. It’s so much more than that trite, hackneyed comparison.

MONSOON ★★★1/2

Director Hong Khaou’s followup to Lilting sets its sights on modern day Vietnam as Henry Golding’s character visits to find a suitable place to distribute his mother’s ashes. It’s a terrific mediation on a gay man finding a sense of belonging in a place he’s never been and Golding proves himself to be a subtle, compelling actor. Perhaps a little too quiet and reflective, the film makes up for what it lacks in narrative drive with its awe-inspiring cinematography and immersive qualities.

P.S. BURN THIS LETTER PLEASE ★★★★1/2

What an unexpected surprise. Michael Seligman and Jennifer Tiexiera’s documentary about a treasure trove of letters dating back to the 1950s brings us into the world of drag queens from almost 70 years ago. With many of its subjects not only alive but in fine form telling their stories and the dishiest voiceover readings ever to grace a film, I was not only thoroughly entertained, but I didn’t expect to weep like Laura Dern at the end. Oh, this is so so so so good.

MINYAN ★★★★

Eric Steel’s feature debut has its own unique tone and a star making performance by Samuel H. Levine, a spitting image of a young Al Pacino/Sylvester Stallone hybrid. With its 1980s Jewish Brighton Beach backdrop, this powerful yet subtle film about a young man coming to terms with his sexuality as well as his place within his religion, it’s a stunning debut. Ron Rifkin is stellar as Levine’s charming grandfather and Alex Hurt (William Hurt’s son) has his father’s intensity. Fantastic, lived-in production design which feels like its decade without resorting to the usual candy colored tropes and a evocative score makes this a memorable experience. Reminiscent at times of On The Waterfront, this film puts a fresh new spin on a coming of age tale and finds so many moving moments from first sex to an elderly gay couple hiding in plain sight. A must-see.

SHIVA BABY ★★★★

Writer/Director Emma Seligman must have studied Rosemary’s Baby quite a bit with this angsty story set mostly at a memorial service. Rachel Sennott is fantastic as a young lesbian who moves from one cringe-worthy moment to the next in an attempt to avoid as much conflict as possible. The great supporting cast includes Polly Draper, Fred Melamed, Dianna Agron, Molly Gordon, and Jackie Hoffman, all note perfect. Less a comedy and more of an emotional horror story, Seligman knows how to make the best of a cramped space and throw up an endless variety of obstacles. You just want Sennott’s Danielle to get her goddamned bagel with lox and cream cheese, but the fates have something else, something better, in store.

COWBOYS ★★★★

Steve Zahn gives a career best performance in this moving story of a father with mental health issues and his trans son escaping into the Montana wilderness. Sasha Knight makes an impressive debut as Zahn’s son and Jillian Bell expertly walks that fine line between villain and empathetic character. Its comparisons to Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid are not coincidental. Not perfect by any stretch, it may feel fairly conventional, but it’s tackling a vibrant subject matter. Extra points for giving Ann Dowd a role where we don’t hiss at her.

BREAKING FAST ★★★

Solid romcom with a Muslim backdrop, this very tight, deceptively simple script provides just the right amount of sparks between its charming leads, Haaz Sleiman and Michael Cassidy. While structurally not breaking new ground, the entry point into a world we don’t see enough of on screen coupled with food porn for days makes this a fun, funny, goes down easy delight.

ASK ANY BUDDY ★★★1/2

Q: Daddy! Daddy! What were the 70s like down at the Piers in NYC? A: Oh shut up and watch this movie.

An experimental collage of vintage gay porn and archival footage from the disco, pre-AIDS heyday gives this film a mesmerizing, museum installation quality. While technically without a story, you feel like you’ve gone on a journey nonetheless. Would pair well with William Friedkin’s Cruising.

DRY WIND ★★★1/2

Slow cinema meets voyeuristic gay porn in this one of a kind Brazilian exploration an arid small town, a workers’ union crisis, and a man obsessed with the Tom Of Finland drawing come to life who motors into his life. Overlong and a little too obtuse as it goes along, it’s worth watching this Alice In Wonderland takes a quaalude, gets a very hairy back, and has a lot of sex in the dirt.

NO HARD FEELINGS ★★★★

This year’s Teddy Award Winner at the Berlin Film Festival, Faraz Shariat’s film uses its backdrop of a refugee camp in Germany to tell the story of Iranians and Irani-Germans searching for a better life. Its three leads bring a spark and youthful energy to a story with devastating undercurrents. A wrenching glimpse into the emotional effects an oppressive culture has on its people, yet told with a driving pulse.

LILY TOMLIN: THE FILM BEHIND THE SHOW ★★★

A look behind the scenes as Lily Tomlin and wife Jane Wagner workshop their legendary 1980s Broadway show, The Search For Signs Of Intelligent Life In The Universe. It’s great to see these two at the top of their game and get a glimpse of their creative process, but this documentary is almost devoid of incident and feels more like a sweet gift to the fans than a fully realized film.

SHORTS: WHAT A BOY NEEDS ★★★1/2

A mixed bag here of people searching for excitement, I found a couple of gems here nonetheless. Not to take away from the shorts I don’t mention, I want to single out two exceptional films. Ruben Navarro’s Of Hearts And Castles looks great, has a beautiful vibe, and shows us a lovely connection forming right before our eyes. Kiko’s Saints proves highly original as we follow a female Japanese artist on assignment in France become obsessed with a gay couple who have a lot of sex on the beach. Combining animation with fairly explicit sex, I loved seeing the male gaze from a female perspective.

THE CAPOTE TAPES ★★1/2

I love Truman Capote. I grew up at a time when smart authors found themselves on talk shows and were treated like superstars. I’ve read his books and always have been in awe of his ability to be himself. Featuring never-before-heard tapes of Capote’s friends being interviewed by George Plimpton, unfortunately, I don’t think this repetitive documentary gave me anything all that new. It’s still touching at times and for the uninitiated, this is a great overview of his life, but I was watching the clock.

OUT LOUD ★★★1/2

A moving look at the Trans Chorus of Los Angeles as they prepare for their first public performance. With its ticking clock storyline, director Gail Willumsen expertly interweaves storylines of its founder and members. As such, you really learn what’s a stake and what it means to them. I was lucky enough to see the chorus perform David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust a few years ago and basked in the power of its mere existence…and was also ridiculously entertained.

TWILIGHT’S KISS (SUK SUK) ★★★1/2

This quiet charmer form Hong Kong shows us something we almost never get to see on film - two elderly gay men meeting and falling in love. The fact that both have been married to women doesn’t stop them from exploring their feelings. A little to gentle by half, I still was in awe of this rarity.

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katiesclassicbooks · 4 years ago

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Review: Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse

Synopsis:

Steppenwolf was written by the German writer Hermann Hesse and was published in 1927. It is about a man who calls himself ‘Steppenwolf’ as he believes he is half man and half wolf. He’s a man going through a mid life crisis. Dissatisfied with the modern world around him. Aspiring to higher things. A connoisseur of the ‘higher’ arts of music and literature. A suicidal man. A pacifist who is criticized by the German nationalists at the time. A man who separates the higher and lower parts of himself into two personalities. When a woman named Hermione enters his life, she acts as a mirror. Gives him greater self awareness. Helps him let loose and get into the ‘fun’ parts of the modern world like dancing, jazz and sex. Awakens the sexual desire and the desire for love and understanding in him. When he takes a certain drug near the end of the book he explores a place called ‘The Magic Theatre’ which ends up showing him his shortcomings and ultimately brings him to greater self-awareness perhaps.

Storyline:

This was a fabulous book, although entirely different than Siddhartha, the first book I had read by Hesse. More psychological. Darker. Yet still bringing the main character to a greater awareness of life and acceptance of everything . The book is split into a few different sections. We start out with a man who lived in the same boarding house as Harry and is introducing the manuscript. Then we meet Harry and his life and point of view. Then Harry comes across a pamphlet called ‘ The Steppenwolf Tract’ which basically shows Harry the deal with himself. Shows him the truth. Then more of Harry again, ending with the surreal scenes of Harry’s drug trip through ‘ The Magic Theatre’. This book had so many interesting things in it. The dissatisfaction with the modern age and desire to just be immersed in humanity’s most beautiful creations. The feeling of isolation in the modern age. Being a pacifist in a a highly nationalist country leading up to a horrible war. Being at war between the higher more ‘human’ parts of yourself and the lower ‘more animalistic’ side. The light and the dark. It’s interesting the idea Harry comes across in ‘The Steppenwolf Tract’ though, that humans are made up of multiple personalities, not just one or two. An idea that comes out of the east I believe. Harry has to learn to become aware of and accept all these parts later on. I liked the idea of Harry having to learn to not take everything so seriously as well. To keep his high ideals, but to accept and laugh at the modern age as well. The Magic Theatre sequence was so interesting. Such a trip. Harry having to accept his various personalities. Trying to kill off modernity in various ways including an experience of hunting motor cars during his trip.

Setting:

Steppenwolf is set in the 1920’s in Weimar Germany. A time between the wars when there was the typically thought of decadence of the 1920’s while a second war loomed closer and closer in the background. It was the perfect setting for Harry’s disgust for the modern world and the war and destruction it was headed for.

Characters:

I’d like to talk about Harry’s relationship to Hermione here. She says she acts as a mirror to Harry. Shows up as his opposite, but essentially feels the same at the core. She loves to dance, listen to jazz and is very sexual. She teaches Harry to open up to the lighter side. To enjoy these things. The question is, is she really just a mirror or one of Harry’s personalities? I won’t spoil it, but a big scene at the end and an act of violence, seems more about Harry not accepting Hermione’s qualities in himself rather than Hermione. Although Hermione also shows that Harry has trouble allowing himself to love and indulge in sexual pleasure, which Hermione tries to open him up to. The inclusion of the ‘immortals’ of Mozart and Goethe were rather interesting. They are Harry’s idols and gods so to speak and they appear in his dreams and in his drug trip to help him on his path of self-awareness. Pablo, the saxophone player was interesting too. He was the one that initiated Harry into ‘The Magic Theatre’. Yet he told him he didn’t play the game right, but could try again some time. I think it’s because Harry had to accept all parts of himself and the times he was living in instead of trying to kill everything off or commit suicide in order to feel more at peace.

Did I like It?:

I really liked this! Hermann Hesse is a powerful writer. Siddhartha was so different from Steppenwolf, yet both with a similar thread. Both of which I have enjoyed. Steppenwolf digged deep into this man’s psyche, but ultimately similar to Siddhartha was about full acceptance of life and who you are and being ok with all of it. I feel like they were both about how acceptance of everything is really the key to enlightenment and just simply living the best way you can. I can’t wait to read more of his books!

Do I Recommend This?:

Yes! For those that like psychological books and surrealism.

~Katie

#Steppenwolf #Hermann Hesse #German Literature #1920's #1927 #Book Review #Penguin Modern Classics

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ineffably-effable · 5 years ago

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further good omens fic recs

It’s been awhile since my last reclist post so here goes, please enjoy the rewards of my complete lack of self-control when it comes to this ship.

Please reach out if I’ve missed a tumblr tag, or drop a note if you have any recommendations I’ve missed! ( 31 recommendations underneath the cut )

(51k) Acts of Service by seekwill / @jasmine-cottage-uk

After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.

mood: pining, denial, secrets, idiots-in-love.

(Warning: Don’t start reading this one at midnight expecting to put it down. Learn from my mistakes.)

(44k) Mirror, Mirror by ImprobableDreams900 / @improbabledreams900

Crowley from an evil!au swaps places with our Crowley.

mood: butterfly effect, identity theft, Aziraphale!whump, badass!Aziraphale

(40k) The Strong Tower by BuggreAlleThis

After the failed executions, a vengeful angel takes it upon herself to neutralise the threat presented by Crowley and Aziraphale.

mood: aziraphale!whump, protective!crowley, hurt/comfort, pining and fantastic world building.

(23k) You Might Think I'm Crazy (All I Want is You) by soft_october / @soft-october-night

Since the next shop over closed down, Aziraphale's had a peaceful few months, barring those unpleasant interactions with the men in cheap suits who keep trying to persuade him to sell his shop. But now a (handsome) new owner has taken up residence beside him and, horror of horrors, he wants to open up a coffee shop.

mood: fledgling friendships, obviously-in-love-to-everyone-but-themselves, almost-letting-your-doubts-and-insecurities-ruin-things, if-only-these-dumb-bastards-knew-how-to-communicate

(23k) names in history by lagaudiere

Maybe he’d shown Crowley how to perform a few miracles, but that Crowley had taken to them so well was surely a sign that he wasn’t all bad. And maybe Aziraphale had let himself be called upon to perform a few temptations, but that was just testing the will of the faithful if you looked at it from a different angle.

mood: slow-burn, through-the-ages, beautifully written.

(22k) This Soul Outstreaming by Rend_Herring

Aziraphale constructs intricate rituals to touch the skin of other men (by “men” I mean Crowley).

mood: slow-burn, through-the-ages, forbidden love, UST, beautifully written.

(29k) 5 Times Aziraphale was Almost Discorporated and One Time He Actually was by charliebrown1234 / @charliebrown1234

What it says on the tin.

mood: Aziraphale!whump through the ages, protective Crowley, hurt/comfort, wonderful characterizations.

(20k) In Pleasure's Clothes by obstinatrix, wishwellingtons

Three Times Aziraphale Stalked Crowley In Gay Clubs And One Time He Moped At Wilde’s Grave.

mood: jealousy, pining, miscommunications, idiots-in-love

(18k) Soft (A Love Story in Three Bites) by mia_ugly / @mia-ugly

Crowley was an angel, once. Before she fell. Aziraphale was a warrior (she fell too. It just took a little longer.)

mood: ineffable wives thoughtfully done and beautifully written, pining, emotional vulnerability, hurting the ones you love, references to gothic romances that absolutely slay me, switching POVs between Aziraphale and Crowley.

(18k) On Earth as it is in Heaven by JMA

Aziraphale was at Crowley's trial...the first one.

For six thousand years Aziraphale felt like an angel who has fallen, waiting for Heaven to realise. His fear and doubt has shaped and defined him. Now, with the Armageddon over and Heaven and Hell off their backs it is finally time to come clean.

mood: betrayal, pining, misguided attempts at atonement, miscommunication and forgiveness

(15k) Through Every Door by darlingred1 / @darlingred1

After thwarting the end of the world, Aziraphale begins to avoid Crowley, and Crowley accidentally awakens his own repressed lust.

mood: mutually-pining-idiots, miscommunication, immortal-beings-taking-turns-with-their-single-brain-cell, surprisingly-Crowley-has-first-dibs

(16k) Least of All by stereobone / @stereobone

Every so often, Crowley talks to God.

mood: Crowley worrying after Aziraphale through the ages. Beautifully written, fantastic Crowley perspective.

(14k) Wine Fraud and Other Worthy Pursuits by ImprobableDreams900 / @improbabledreams900

When Aziraphale, rare book dealer and part-time wine collector, encounters a bottle of 1844 Château Lafite-Rothschild he suspects isn't all that it claims, he becomes determined to track down the truth.

Unfortunately, the finger of suspicion seems to point at fellow wine collector Anthony J. Crowley, whom Aziraphale is already well on his way to befriending.

mood: suspicious Aziraphale and fledgling friendships

(12k) Laugh When It Sinks In by Tenoko1 / @tenoko1

Crowley stopped them in their trek, slipping his arm from Aziraphale’s grasp to face him, hands on his shoulders. “Are you sure you’re alright? A-are you having, like, a mid-life crisis or something now that Heaven’s cut you loose? You’re worrying me. What’s next? Cherry red sports car?”

mood: making a home for yourself and your charmingly oblivious life partner

(10k) The Original Bar Joke by deathbycoldopen / @deathbycoldopen

The way Crowley saw things, it was all one big joke, with him as the punchline.

mood: drunk!pining, idiots-in-love, jealous!Crowley, straw-that-broke-the-camel's-back moments, drunk!confessions

(8k) did you open up your heart there? by weatheredlaw / @weatheredlaw

Aziraphale and Crowley meet over and over and over again. Aziraphale doesn't know what Crowley is, or why their souls can't seem to be parted, but he is a creature of love, and he's not going to argue with that.

mood: ready to have your heart broken over and over and over?

(7k) The Ark by rfsmiley / @redfacesmiley

We’ve all been assuming that it takes them 6,000 years to figure it out, but what if it takes 6,300?

Or: the ineffable husbands evacuate a dying Earth.

mood: ineffable dystopian sci-fi romance (and yes, I love that this is a mood I can use to describe a good omens fic).

(7k) Where Thou Art by Mottlemoth / @mottlemoth

A late-night bus to London, a few human comforts, and a long overdue confession... nothing will ever be the same for an angel and his demon.

mood: we-might-be-dead-by-tomorrow-love-confessions

(5k) Love Stories by goodomensblog / @goodomensblog

Crowley goes too slow, Aziraphale drinks copious amounts of alcohol, and the bookshop is (very nearly) set on fire. Again.

mood: drinking because you’re an idiot in love (or because you’re in love with an idiot), looking after your drunk mate (only he’s not your mate he’s the love of your life and he’s finally starting to get that)

(4k) A Metaphor Of Some Kind by copperbadge / @copperbadge

After the world doesn't end, Hell gets Crowley and Heaven gets Aziraphale, but not for very long.

mood: witty with great voices, loads of fun

(4k) One Sweet Moment Set Aside For Us by Arej

Tattoos are like stories you write on your skin, and they'll say things for you if you'll let them. Or perhaps prompt other people to say things.

Or, Crowley is just drunk enough to get bold and let his guard down, and it leads to something he never thought he'd be allowed to have.

mood: pining, touching, reverance, love confessions

(3k) Something To Talk About by iamtheenemy (Steph)

Aziraphale jumps to some very inaccurate conclusions.

mood: pining and misconceptions, let’s see if we can make Crowley have an aneurysm.

Wow! Thanks for scrolling this far! You’ve unlocked the secret “I’ll be in my bunk” section of the rec list! ;)

(That’s not to say the fics above don’t have their own hot scenes, or that the fic below are only pwp, but these are the fics where the plot is either focused mostly on sex or the build-up to sex.)

(4k) left with no trace, as if not spoken to by drawlight / @drawlight

Aziraphale's finger brushes against the edge of Crowley's hand. The theater is packed, it is dark. Everyone is watching the stage (no one is watching them). "Do you - ?" "Yeah, angel."

mood: Shakespeare may not have deserved this, but this reader is glad this exists.

(4k) I Tempt, You Thwart... Right? by AEpixie7 / @knightofthesevenfandoms

Crowley accidentally-on-purpose roofies Aziraphale and then feels bad about it because Aziraphale is so high that he can't remember how to sober up.

mood: serious wing kink, drug-induced-loss-of-inhibitions

(6k) Appetite by spunknbite / @spunknbite

Crowley places the macaron against Aziraphale’s lips with more reverence than the angel had thought him capable. “It’s alright, angel. Just take a bite.”

mood: drunk sex, overcoming inhibitions, first time, hand feeding

(6k) The Better Part of Valour by obstinatrix

Said I, a few weeks ago: "I feel there’s also room for e.g. bedsharing fic where the apocalypse has Not Happened and they’ve fallen into queerplatonic (or so they think) bedsharing and Crowley thinks he’s alone in being driven slowly to distraction by it, so he says nothing. Then one night he wakes when it’s still dark, and at first he doesn’t know why, until he hears Aziraphale’s breathing a little raspier than usual, and feels the very slight trembling of the bed."

mood: bed-sharing-with-serious-insecurities-and-misunderstanding

(7k) a treatise on your fingers in my hair by Nimravidae / @tooeasilyconsidered

Crowley sleeps for two days, his hair is a mess, and all it takes is a touch. Like a catalyst. Like striking flint, like a matchstick, like touching fire to gunpowder

mood: all that pent up UST has to go somewhere

(9k) Released by vaguely_concerned / @vaguely-concerned

After they get together Aziraphale has some lingering Ideas about his brief stint in the Bastille; Crowley is happy to help him explore them. Hijinks, as they say, ensue.

mood: french revolution era role play w/ feelings, fantastic dialogue.

(17k) One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) by Atalan / @seaskystone

Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.

mood: flirting and first times

You’re still here? Can’t get enough? Well check out these amazing WIPs!

Slow Show by mia_ugly / @mia-ugly

The Ineffable Pining Showmance AU that no one asked for.

mood: a more accurate summary would be the: ineffable pining showmance AU that no one knew to ask for, and everyone wanted more of. The characterizations in this are amazing. Crowley as a fallen film star is perfection.

Shifting Heaven and Earth by BuggreAlleThis

For most of history, since he narrowly avoiding Falling from Heaven with Lucifer, Crowley has been working for the Angelic Corruption Unit. This ended up being far more boring than he hoped it would be, but things change when he is assigned to go undercover on Earth. His mission is to investigate Aziraphale, an infamous angel who has been on Earth since its Creation, and whom Heaven is sure is guilty of corruption or dereliction of duty.

mood: slow-burn, betrayal, regrets, aziraphale!whump, bamf!aziraphale

the bucket list by darcylindbergh / @forineffablereasons

If you’re going to go native, you might as well go all the way.

mood: saying the absolutely wrong thing at the wrong time, reaching your breaking point, miscommunication and heart break.

Still here? :)

My previous good omens recs post can be found here [x]

#good omens fic #good omens recs #good omens fic recs #my fic recs #good omens #ineffable hubands #ineffable husbands fic #good omens fic rec

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omoi-no-hoka · 5 years ago

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Hey! I saw your blog today and I love it very much!! I see you're an open person so, I also have a question: HOW does one survive studying japanese at uni?? I'm in my first year and only my second (online haha) semester and we started out with Minna no nihongo 1 but we're supposed to finish Minna 2 by the end of this semester, same with Basic Kanji book 1 in the first sem and now Basic Kanji Book 2, all while also learning mostly of Japan's history and others in this semester. Exams will kill me

Hello! I’m glad you’re enjoying my blog! I am open to a fault lol. Let me recount my meandering journey through uni, illustrating my feelings through gifs of Noel Fielding because he is my celebrity crush.

Uni is such a difficult time for so many people, trying to figure out who you are now and who you want to be later. It wasn’t until my senior year that I realized what I wanted to do. I started writing out my university experience and it got super long, so allow me to just summarize my “Lessons Learned” here and you can read the rest if you want to know all the dirty deets lol. I double-majored in Japanese and English, so I think that my experience can perhaps be useful to people who are majoring in things other than Japanese as well.

Hard-Learned Lessons from Uni

Do not choose a course of study because it is “practical.” Choose it because it is something you love. Seriously. Nothing is more important than this point. Do not choose a major because “I’ll make a lot of money” or “My parents are telling me this is good for me.”

If you are learning multiple languages at once, you must give your brain time to organize what you learned from one language lesson before moving on to the next. You can do this by waiting a couple hours between lessons, getting up and walking around, studying one language in different space from the other, etc. Otherwise, it all becomes a terrible mess in your head.

It’s okay not to know what you want your career to be. It’s okay not to have a specific plan. Life works out one way or the other.

I know how expensive uni can be. (It’s been six years since I graduated and I’m still making hefty loan payments.) But don’t feel like you have to take a full courseload every single semester and graduated asap, particularly if the classes are hard and/or you are working. I took the maximum credit hours allowed every semester on top of working RIDICULOUS hours and it nearly killed me at one point. I’m not kidding.

It is not unusual to have an identity crisis and/or mental breakdown. Take care of yourself. Know when you are nearing breaking point. Seek out the help of professionals. Most universities have psychiatrists and therapists that will see you very cheaply.

Surround yourself with good people and look out for each other.

Do not rely on substances to ease your suffering because sometimes the remedy becomes the malady. Not saying you should avoid all parties or anything square like that, but just don’t be one of those people that parties every night and gets in over their head.

Let me preface this by stating that I’m an American, and our universities are stupid because they force us to take a ton of “general education” courses that are irrelevant to our majors, and many students spend their first couple years taking only a couple courses related to their majors and minors, and try to focus on getting those stupid gen eds out of the way.

Year 1: Oh Shit, This Is Harder Than I Thought It Would Be

I come from a town of less than 2600 people. Our high school prepared its students for the following career paths:

joining the military (boys only)

becoming a farmer (boys only)

welding, carpentry, or other practical jobs (boys only)

becoming a housewife (girls only)

So basically I coasted through high school never having to study anything because it was one great big joke, only I thought I was like super duper smart because I was in the top five of my graduating class of 48. LOLLLLLLLLL

I entered university as a German major, Japanese minor. (Japanese was not offered as a major at my uni). I had never studied German previously, but I studied Spanish and French in high school and I just had this feeling that German and Japanese were the languages for me.

The first semester, I had Japanese 101 and German 101 back to back, in the EXACT SAME CLASSROOM. I can’t stress enough how much of a mindfuck it was to go from thinking about Japanese for 50 minutes, having a 10 minute break, and then trying to switch your brain to German. IN THE SAME ROOM. It actually gave me headaches to try and make that mental jump. Managed to pull through the year with A’s in both, but German was much more of a challenge to me than Japanese. Which was really unexpected.

I also flunked several gen eds because I didn’t give a shit about them and skipped them and got placed on academic probation and was nearly kicked out of uni because of my poor grades

Basically, I was such a weeb that I had watched enough anime with subtitles and sung along to enough anime songs that I had absorbed about 90% of the first year’s worth of Japanese vocab and grammar through osmosis. I really did have the power of God and anime on my side.

Year 2: The Year of the Mid-Midlife Crisis and Mental Breakdown

There really is no gif that will encapsulate the level of turmoil I went through that year. I looked really hard for one, trust me.

It became apparent very quickly that I could not keep up with German. I ended up dropping it early in the first semester, which meant I had to choose a new major. Thinking of what would be practical to pair with a Japanese minor, I went for International Business for a semester, took Accounting, and realized that I HATE The Man, corporate bullshit, and also numbers as a concept.

All I knew at this point was that I liked Japanese but couldn’t make it a major. I also knew I didn’t want to transfer universities. So I kept taking gen eds, just barely passing them because to this day I cannot bring myself to put effort into something I do not care about, and also taking more classes related to my Japanese minor. It was the Japanese classes that saved my GPA and kept me from getting kicked out of uni.

At the same time, I took a creative writing course because that’s been a hobby of mine since elementary school, and I kinda thought about an English major, but then was like, “Eww I don’t wanna be forced to read books I don’t give a shit about. And also, what will I do with that degree?”

Also, at the same time, I was working full time, and often getting stuck working from 2 pm to 7 am (Yes, 15-hour shifts, because the overnight dude would call in sick last minute and I’d be begged to cover his shift), and then dragging myself to classes and drooling on the desks because I’d fall asleep.

Also also, I started to have possible hallucinations? To this day I don’t know what was going on, but either I was legitimately going crazy, or there was a demon following me around and being quite rude to me, making light fixtures fall and shatter inches from my head, throwing papers around my room, opening and closing doors, turning lights off and on, coming to me in dreams and doing some really, really traumatic things to me in them, and just standing in corners staring at me at all hours of the night. Had me so scared that towards the end of the school year I was waiting to sleep until sunrise, when it would go away. And no, I was not using any mind-altering substances of any sort. Not even going out and getting drunk.

So, yeah. Year Two was a hard one that I can’t believe I pushed through. Probably the darkest year of my life, I’d say. What got me through it? An unhealthy amount of energy drinks, friends, and my love of Japanese. Also Aerosmith.

Do I still see that demon? No. He vanished when the school year ended and I moved out of the dorms. Do I believe in the supernatural? Yes, to an extent. Do I think that what I was seeing was actually a demon? I honestly don’t know. I have had actual supernatural experiences verified by multiple witnesses, and a few years before Year 2, several friends and myself had seen an entity similar to what was following me around. But this one in Year 2 only did things when I was alone. So it could have all been in my head, and I will never know.

Since then, I have been diagnosed with general anxiety and also a form of insomnia that keeps me from sleeping through the night, and I know that my anxiety manifests itself in psychosomatic ways. In other words, my mind will take my anxiety and turn it into a physical symptom that feels real in every way, but is actually not occurring. So far it’s manifested as: sensitivity to sunlight, the symptoms of a stroke or heart attack, half of my face going numb, and headaches in my left eye. Once I realize that the symptom is just my anxiety, I can force myself to ignore and overcome it. But then my anxiety finds a new form to manifest, and the cycle repeats a few months later. It could be that my stress caused me to see this demon for a while.

Should I have consulted a psychiatrist and gotten help? YEP. If you find yourself struggling like that, seek help please. 💕

Year 3: Adrift But Afloat

I moved out of the dorms and into an apartment with my best friend, a Japanese girl I met in the dorms freshman year. I will call her Setsuko. Setsuko is basically the reason I graduated uni. She memorized my class schedules and took copies of exam dates, woke me up, forced me to go classes instead of skipping, forced me to go to the library and study with her, and cooked me dinner most days since she didn’t have to work like I did. I can’t express enough how much she did to improve my life outside of school and work, and how much that improved my mental health. She also acclimated me to lots of subtle things about Japanese culture just by living with her, and this helped me later when I moved to Japan. Thank you, Setsuko. 一生の恩人。

I was still doing those bullshit 15-hour overnight shifts way more than I should have, and also had the maximum courseload.

The Japanese classes got a lot more difficult in Year 3. But I loved them. They were the only classes I never skipped. I took more classes towards the minor like Buddhist Philosophy and Japanese History, which I really enjoyed. While polishing off more gen eds, I thought over what to do with my major.

My family and friends all told me that I should become an English teacher. I had always been good at words and at explaining things. But I didn’t really like the idea of being a high school teacher. I became an English major, though, because I knew that I didn’t hate English. Took grammar classes and HOLY SHIT did I hit my stride.

I realized that I didn’t like English lit. I liked linguistics. So I focused heavily on all grammar and linguistics courses, taking the bare minimum of literature courses required for the major. My GPA improved substantially.

Yet I still was consumed with this nagging fear. It was Year 3 and I still had no fucking idea what I wanted to do when I graduated.

Year 4: Clarity At The 11th Hour

Urged on by my “Don’t you dare get one of those stupid arts degrees that won’t get you a paycheck” parents, I decided that the most “practical” degree would not be “English,” but “English Education.” I began taking the English Ed classes with linguistics, grammar, and second language acquisition classes. The goal was to become a qualified English high school teacher who could also do ESL (since I had Spanish and Japanese under my belt more or less).

At the same time, I entered into Independent Study for Japanese with two other students. We were tasked with reading Izu no Odoriko, a classic short story. Independent study was its own beast. It required a lot more concentration and work on my part, obviously. But because Japanese was my first and foremost passion, I centered my efforts on those courses, and then on the others.

The process of getting certified to be an English teacher was lengthy and expensive in my state. This meant my graduation would be further prolonged, and I was worried about money, because I was already about $50,000 in debt at the time, despite working those fucking overnight shifts all the time that were eating me alive.

Then, during the summer vacation when my 4th year ended, I got a scholarship and went to Japan to study abroad. Education majors had the option to study abroad in several countries, and as luck would have it, one of them was Japan, and it was Setsuko’s HOMETOWN! The study abroad program itself was the first month of summer vacation, and Setsuko said, “Okay, just come stay at my house for the rest of summer vacation!”

Never have I said “yes” quicker in my entire life.

On the train headed from Sapporo to the town where I would be actually staying during my studies, I looked at the lush rice paddies and mountains in the distance and my entire heart just hummed with this “This is where you’re meant to be.” I knew then and there that I would move to Japan upon graduation.

What would I do there? Well, teach English, obviously.

My three months in Japan effectively aligned my entire life. My path had materialized before me. It was a roughly hacked, hard-to-see path through thick underbrush, but I could see it nonetheless.

Year 5: Let’s Hurry It Up, I’m Ready To Live

Come Year 5, all of my Japanese classmates that had been with me since freshman year were gone and I was alone. My professor taught me Classical Japanese through independent study, and it was the must grueling course I took my entire five years there. But I found it invaluable and am eternally grateful to him for teaching me, because you see Classical Japanese a lot more than you’d think you would in everyday life. Particularly in formal settings.

I still wanted to get certified to teach English in American high schools, because while I knew I wanted to go to Japan for now, I didn’t know if I wanted to spend my entire life there and I wanted a solid job opportunity when I came back to the states at some point.

However, the more education courses I took, the more I saw that the American education system was just as full of red-tape and The Man’s bullshit as corporate America, something else I rebuke with every fiber of my being. I also realized I’d need to take a 6th year of university, and that just wasn’t financially feasible for me. So I switched to a plain old English major with a heavy focus on linguistics and second language acquisition, and continued classical Japanese.

I took the remaining 3 gen eds online in the summer, graduated, popped up to Chicago to do a month-long intensive course to get the CELTA (Certificate in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages issued by Cambridge.) It’s the most widely accepted and revered certification for teaching English as a foreign language.

So in the span of five years, I graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in English with a focus in linguistics and SLA, and what is technically a major in Japanese Studies. 40 credit hours were required for a major, and I completed 42 credit hours tied to my minor, so while it isn’t listed on my diploma as a major, I did the coursework. I also got a CELTA Pass B, which only 20% of applicants achieve and never expires. The grand total for all of this was roughly $100,000 USD in loans.

Post-Graduation

The week I came back to my hometown from Chicago with my CELTA in hand, I packed my suitcases, threw a going-away party, and then flew to Sapporo, where I began my first job after uni, teaching English to children aged 0-18 at a private English conversation school. I did that for three years before changing careers and becoming a Japanese-English translator/interpreter for a global company.

So how useful have my choices during university proven to be?

I’m sure I don’t have to explain that studying Japanese helps me tons with translating Japanese to English or living in Japan lol

Studying English grammar, linguistics, sociolinguistics, and second language acquisition has allowed me to recognize minute nuances that can make the difference between a successful and unsuccessful business negotiation when interpretation is necessary.

My background in education also means that I know how to present information clearly, concisely, and in a way that engages the audience. I am known as “The PowerPoint Pro” at work lol.

I also have a keen eye for performance evaluation, behavior analysis, and improvement action plans.

I offered English conversation lessons to coworkers for over a year, and now that is being done in other branches across the company! (Well, they were before COVID haha.)

I DO NOT RECOMMEND WORKING THE HOURS I WORKED WHILE IN SCHOOL. My grades suffered and I wish I had worked less and focused more on classes. However, by working 15-hour shifts and doing full days of classes, I developed a very good tolerance for overtime, which comes in handy in the Japanese workplace. Just last month I had three 15 hour days in the same week. Sweet, sweet overtime pay.

All of these facets have culminated in me earning a pretty nice promotion to 正社員 seishain back in February, which means I get nice benefits and basically my job is guaranteed until I die or the company goes under.

Should I decide to return to America someday, I will probably not go into the education field. Too much red tape. I will likely continue translation/interpretation for companies, because it isn’t too difficult and pays well. Though ideally I’d love to just make a living sharing cool information about Japanese and stuff, and maybe writing those stories that are bouncing around in my head when I should be working haha.

Do I think the debt is worth it?

Well, I don’t think I had any other option than to take out those loans. I didn’t have the means to learn the things I wanted to learn unless I went to university.

Unless Japanese work visa requirements have changed, you are required to have a bachelor’s degree in order to obtain my sub-type of work-visa, so I needed a degree of some kind no matter what.

Frankly, if I hadn’t gone to that university and met my best friend Setsuko, I don’t think I’d be where I am right now, living the life I am now. So just having met her is worth any price to me.

Paying off all the loans is daunting, especially when yen is weak to the dollar. There were months I had to ask my parents for help, especially early on. But now I’ve got multiple loans paid off, my salary has increased, and the “omg i have money and no supervision so I can buy whatever I want” idiocy has mostly gone away. But I did get a super sweet pair of blindingly silver Converses a couple days ago that I definitely didn’t need

Do I have any regrets regarding my time at university?

I still regret dropping Old English for a stupid English Ed class. Seriously, how cool would that have been? But I still have the textbook, workbook, and I contacted the professor last week and she was kind enough to send me a syllabus. God bless her. So now I’m working on that bit by bit, which is fun.

I wish I hadn’t been such a cocky, naive idiot my first year. Thinking I could just “show up for tests” was the stupidest thing. It messed up my GPA, and my parents forbade me from retaking classes so I couldn’t go back and fix my mistakes. I think I graduated with a 3.4 overall GPA out of 4, but my English major GPA was 3.9 and my Japanese GPA was 4.0. So it’s pretty frustrating to have those gen eds and my dumbfuckery mar my transcript like that.

I really didn’t party at all. Most all of my friends were straight-laced Japanese exchange students, and I was also working ridiculous hours so I just didn’t really have the time. A part of me feels like I missed out on that part of the college experience.

Recently I’ve been putting more effort into improving my creative writing by reading a lot of books on the subject. Not a small part of me wishes that I had gone with a Creative Writing major instead of English major, because I still would have studied all the grammar and linguistics. Then again, I do believe that creative writing can be self-taught.

I wish I hadn’t worked as much as I did. There were a lot of times I couldn’t complete assignments or I missed lectures because I was just so drained. It wasn’t even good money.

Well...I did not intend for this post to become as long as it has. I’ve been cooped up in my apartment with nothing but two goldfish for company for over a month now and I think I’m a bit stir-crazy. Thank you to anyone and everyone who bothered to read all of this and become my therapist for a bit haha. Love you all. Stay safe and well. 💖

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