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thai-with-booty · 4 years ago

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The mall - Part I

This is a story I wrote a while back, but wasn’t ready to share and kept coming back to rather than writing all in one go. It was based around a few years ago when I and my husband were very new to the idea or being more open as we are now.

I can't believe that I am really doing this. Walking in the mall, wearing slutty black high heels (Id never normally wear high heels to a mall), a black silk mini-skirt with a tiny lace thong underneath and a flimsy white silk blouse with just a thin lace bra underneath. My nervousness is causing tiny beads of sweat to form and trickle down my blouse. I had a bet with my husband, over a stupid game, I don’t even remember now what it was, but I remember it being something so small and insignificant, with the loser having to do whatever the other wanted for a full day. I had his day all planned out: fixing my dresser and doing all kinds of stuff around the house. I was sure that I was going to win, but here I am in the mall looking like when I was 22 and working in a bar. If I had known what he wanted me to do, I never would have made the bet.

I feel like a slut and I know that I look like one, too, but somehow a part of me is enjoying this. All of the men staring at me is really doing something to me. I can feel the moistness between my legs and an urge to show off more of myself.

When I first started out today, I was very self-conscious and kept my arms crossed in front of my chest, but realizing that this just brought more attention to myself, I forced myself to act naturally; and soon I realized that I enjoyed having their eyes undress me. I have even found myself trying to catch men looking at me, watching their faces as their eyes wander all over my over-exposed body. Earlier, I spied a guy staring at me, and without even realizing what I was doing, I stretched my arms up, pressing my breasts against the blouse enjoying the look on his face as he stared at my breasts straining the fabric of my blouse. I am supposed to meet my husband in the food court for some new instructions and I can only imagine what he has planned for me next.

I think those three guys are following me. As I stop and pretend to be interested in a window display, I notice that they stopped also. As I continue on, I see that they are right behind me. I have to admit that, as nervous as I am, I am also very turned-on by this.

Oops, I just dropped my purse. As I bend over to pick it up, I can feel this tiny silk skirt ride up my behind, as my nearly naked booty is exposed to them and whoever else is looking in my direction. Knowing that these men can see so much of me, is making me even hotter. I can't believe how turned-on I am! I never realized that acting like a slut would feel so sexy, so confident, so powerful. I am not sure anymore if the reason that I am sweating is nervousness or lust. Stealing a glance at my followers, I see that they are stopped, and if I wasn't so turned-on I would have to laugh. They are staring at me with their mouths wide open. I give them a quick smile and I continue walking knowing that they are watching my butt as I wiggle away.

I notice that they are getting closer and not trying to hide themselves anymore. I am almost to the food court and my appointment with my husband. I step onto the escalator with my little following right behind me, and I know that they can look right up my skirt. Knowing that they can probably see how wet my panties are makes me even hotter. I am tempted to really give them a show by putting my hand inside my panties and my finger inside my dripping slit, but I fight off that temptation. I am on the verge of an orgasm, and I feel my legs wobble as I reach the top of the escalator and step off.

Seeing my husband, he was at the table near the som tam which is my favourite food, he smiles at me and walks away as I start to walk toward him. I see an envelope on the table, and I take his place. I see my husbands writing and his instructions for me to go to the ladies room and open the envelope. I know that he is watching me, and I remember our deal: if I didn't follow his instructions, no matter how stupid, exactly as I was told, we would repeat the whole day next weekend. I hastily grab the envelope and just as I start to stand the three strangers walk by. One of them starts to say something to me, but I just ignore him as I make my way to the ladies room.

Sitting here in the empty lounge, I open the envelope, and I almost gasp as I comprehend the next part of my day. I am to remove my bra and my panties, put them in my purse, and continue to walk until I get to a bench in front of a lingerie store on the other side of the mall. I sit and decide that I am not going to do this. I'll walk out of this mall right now. Not only is the bet off but that my husband is really going to hear it from me about this!

Standing, instead of leaving, I find myself entering an empty stall. After closing the door, I quickly remove my blouse and my bra. While putting the blouse back on, I can't help but see how my large, dark nipples poke holes in this flimsy little silk blouse. As I remove my panties, I am surprised by how moist and warm they are.

I put everything inside my purse but I am so horny that I have to touch myself for just a second. I sit, pull up my skirt, close my eyes, and start to play with myself. Rubbing my clit feels so good! I imagine that I am doing this in front of a crowd, with everybody urging me on. I am surprised again by how quickly, how powerfully I am overcome by pure lust.

Oh my God, I didn't mean to actually go this far but here it comes... Ohhh My God! As I am overcome by my orgasm, I hear myself moan. I try to stay silent but I know that some sounds have escaped my lips.

Now that I have my composure back, I realize just how turned-on I am by showing off my body to total strangers. I straighten out my clothes and as I walk by the mirror, I can see exactly what I look like. As I walk, I can feel how my tits are bouncing around. I look at my skirt and see that the bottom is just below my butt. Just the slightest breeze will let everybody see how naked I am under this tiny skirt. Since nobody is in here, I bend over to see how much of me shows when I do it.

Oh, this skirt rides up so high, I better not if I don't want to get arrested for indecent exposure. As I pull down my skirt, I hear a sound from one of the other stalls. I glance around quickly and notice that one of the other stalls is occupied, with the door still open a crack. I can hear someone in there. It sounds like she is masturbating!

My curiosity gets the best of me, so I move closer and ask, "Are you okay?"

I hear her say yes but it comes out almost as a moan.

I fight off the urge to open the door, but my curiosity gets the best of me and I decide to wait and see this woman. I stall for time freshening up my makeup, and after a short while, she leaves the stall. I realize that she has been sweating, but has a look of total satisfaction on her face. I guess that she is about my age — late twenties/ early thirties — with long black hair similar to mine. I look her in the eye and she greets me with a playful smile as I notice her beautiful brown eyes.

She quickly explains to me that she has been following me, because...

I ask her to repeat the last part because I didn't quite hear it.

I can't believe it! She just told me that she was following me because she wants to make love to me. When I stopped to pick up my purse earlier, she decided that she had to have me, and has been following me ever since. Somehow I didn't notice her.

I don't know what to say. As I stand in front of her, open mouthed, she quickly explains to me that she is bisexual, and often comes to the mall to pick up bored housewives. When she walked into the ladies room after me, she heard me moaning and had to go and play herself, too, but when I was looking at myself in front of the mirror, that brought her over the edge.

Now this beautiful woman is trying to pick me up, and I have no idea how to react!

She explains that many women come to the mall looking for a lover, and she can tell when a women wants another woman without the woman even realizing it herself. She continues, saying that although I may not realize it, I would enjoy myself so much if I came with her.

I start to protest, but she quiets me with a too-passionate kiss that I can't help but return. She somehow can see the nervous and confused state that I am in. She reaches in her purse and pulls out a business card, writes on it, and tells me to call her soon. I watch her leave, then look down at the card and see her name and number.

I better get going. My husband is going to be waiting for me. Leaving the ladies room, I look around for my little group of followers, but they are nowhere to be seen. Suddenly I feel self-conscious and lost. I am in the middle of a huge mall, practically naked. As hot as I felt before, suddenly all of that sexual arousal that I had felt before is gone, replaced by embarrassment and humiliation. I better get going and get this over with before I get arrested for solicitation.

I am almost to my next rendezvous with my husband when I notice that I have regained my group of admirers. I'm feeling more confident and at ease as I find myself with somebody familiar, even if they are strangers. Feeling daring again, I stop at the fountain, open my purse for some change and throw a few baht into the fountain. I can't see them, but I can somehow feel their eyes run up and down my body, but I can sense somebody coming closer to me. A part of me wants to escape and get out of here, and I actually decide to continue on, but just as I turn around, I see one of the trio standing next to me. As I look over at him, he gives me a sexy little smile.

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tonymystarks · 4 years ago

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‘For the Future’ -Stony Fic

Steve x Tony, pre-slash getting together. Slow dancing at a gala can get to the best of them

(hey everyone! I’ve been in the softest fluffy mood lately and actually felt like writing again so, here we go!)

Tony knew that galas were essential to the company. Tony knew that it was vital that he threw them and that he was there, but that didn’t mean that he had to like it.

He stood at the back of the event space, leaning against the wall, and people watched. He knew that he should be talking to people, schmoozing his way into hearts, but he found himself unable to turn on the Stark charm like normal. He knew why too, and he was upset about it.

And the reason was just across the dance floor from him, laughing and smiling as he dazzled the room. Stand there, tall and blonde, taunting Tony by looking so suave in his dark blue tux. Tony wanted nothing more than to walk over, grab his hand, and kiss him senseless, but he did have a modicum of self-control. Even though, with every passing moment, it was getting harder and harder to be in the same room with him.

He refused to call it a crush, but it was just a stupid crush. There was no way that Steve felt the same way. Therefore, his feelings didn’t mean anything, and there was no way he was going to do something stupid like ruin one of the best friendships he had ever had by not being able to control his feelings.

Steve had volunteered to come with Tony to the gala, even though it had nothing to do with the avengers. He had stated ‘I know how much you dislike them, Tony, I just want to make it easier for you.’ He gave Tony the puppy dog eyes that he just couldn’t say no to, and now he was here. He had spent the evening trying to avoid Steve, dodging him when he could, hiding in dark corners and along walls.

He was no super-spy, but he knew how to hide when he wanted to.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Ah, OK, maybe he wasn’t that good at it.

Steve must have spotted Tony while he wasn’t paying attention.

Tony looked up at Steve and didn’t see anything that indicated that he was upset. There was a slight smile on his lips and a softness behind his eyes. Tony had to look away before he started to blush.

“I’m not avoiding you; I’ve just been busy.” Even Tony could hear the lie in his voice, and Steve just chuckled.

“You have been avoiding me, and you aren’t even talking to anyone. I’ve seen you, shellhead. Sneaking around like you’re on some kind of mission,” Steve said playfully, moving to stand closer to Tony.

“You’ve been watching me, Cap? Can’t say that I’m surprised; my presence is magnetic.” Tony joked, hoping to lighten the mood,

Instead of lightening the mood, it stiffed to something a little darker, more intense. It felt like Steve’s eye was drilling into him, and the air between them was electric.

“I’m always watching you, Tony.” There was a heat behind the words that made Tony’s stomach do a flip. Tony refused to read into that.

“Right, well enough of that. Stop paying attention to me and pay attention to your adoring fans. I’m sure some people would die for a dance with you.” Tony was just trying to end the conversation so he could get back to sulking.

“Speaking of dancing…” and Steve held out his hand, just as the music shifted to a slow-tempo waltz.

Tony felt the flutter in his stomach again. There was still a heat present between them, but there was also an earnest-ness to the words Steve spoke. Tony wanted to say no, but he didn’t think that he could. His body, acting on itself own, put his hand into Steve’s outstretched one.

“Why Captain Rogers, asking your best doll for a dance?” Tony spoke before he could stop himself.

“Yes.”

Oh. That was something new. Tony felt like a teenager, a giggle trying to break out of him, which he promptly shut down. He let himself be pulled out onto the dance floor, not fully comprehending what was happening.

They made their way to the middle of the dance floor, and Steve dropped his hand to Tony’s waist, forcing Tony to put his hand on Steve’s shoulder. They started to move slowly to the string quartet that was playing. It felt like their bodies were made for each other, the way that they fit together. The pressure of Steve’s hand on his hip was welcome, as Tony felt like he could melt at any moment.

“You OK? You’re looking a little flushed.” Tony finally lifted his head to look into Steve’s eyes.

The softness was still there, but there was a touch of concern. Steve’s face was always so open and raw with emotion, never feeling the need to hide what he was thinking - at least not around the people he cared for the most.

“Yeah, I’m good. Its just been a long day.”

“How much longer do we have to stay. If you’re tired, we should go.” The concern grew deeper in Steve’s face now, and Tony wanted just to kiss it away.

“Slow down, Capsicle, I’m good. No need to rush; we have a whole evening to enjoy.” Tony knew he should jump at the chance to go home, to get away from Steve, but he also knew that he wasn’t ready to let this go.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” There was a sincerity in his tone that made Tony’s heart beat a little fast.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now concentrate; I don’t need you stepping all over my feet.” Tony wanted nothing more than for that conversation to be over. He didn’t need Steve taking care of him, no matter how much the thought made his stomach twist.

The music switched to something a little more uptempo, and their dance picked up. Together, Tony and Steve moved across the floor in a way that might make anyone watching think that they had done this a thousand times before. Steve lead the dance coolly and calmly with all the grace of a well-made man.

“Where did you learn to dance? Not much time from being a soldier, to being an ice-pop, to avenging.” Tony questioned.

It was Steve’s turn to blush.

“I’ve been practicing in my spare time. You know, I didn’t want to stuff it up if I ever did have the opportunity to dance with someone special.” The blush only grew in intensity.

“I’m happy to fill in, help you practice some more, not that you need.” After Tony spoke, Steve cleared his throat and looked away.

“No need for that.” Steve continued to stare at the wall behind Tony’s head.

“Oh,” Tony tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but even he could hear it.

Steve’s eye snapped back to face.

“No! I just meant- well, I just, um, you’re someone.” Steve stammered.

“What? I’m someone?” Tony watched as Steve adjusted his posture, standing a little taller and looked at him determinedly.

“You’re someone special.”

“Oh,” Tony said again, but this time there was no disappointment in his voice. “I see. Well -ahem- then I would say your practice has paid off.”

Tony found himself looking into Steve’s eyes again, briefly realizing how close together their faces were. Tony saw Steve’s eyes fall to his lips, and before he knew it, he had closed the last little bit of distance between them.

Steve’s lips were soft, like surprisingly soft. They matched up with his in a way that shifted the earth beneath Tony’s feet. It wasn’t frantic or full of untamed passion, but slow and with purpose. They had stopped moving at this point and were just standing on the floor, slightly in the way of the other couples trying to dance. Tony desperately wanted more, he wanted to feel whatever the captain was willing to give him, but he had some sense left in him. He pulled away from the kiss, only enough so that he could take in Steve’s face.

He was flushed and breathing more deeply than he usually did, considering that he could run for several miles at a time and not even break a sweat. He also looked like he was using every bit of restraint to stop himself from kissing Tony again.

“Well, that was surprising.” Tony sounded just as out of breath as Steve looked.

“It really shouldn’t be. I’ve been gone on you for a while now. I guess I need to work on making my point more clear,” Steve said jokingly.

Tony felt a little lost. He thought that Steve was just a good friend, a good friendly-friend, but it was now starting to seem like his feelings were mutual.

“Yes, I think that you should make a note of that for the future,” Tony said, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling him toward the exit.

Steve gave a good laugh, a full-bodied one, walking quickly to keep up with Tony. They made it out to a back hallway behind the main ballroom, no one in sight. Steve proceeded to tug on Tony’s hand, pulling their bodies back together.

“For the future,” he spoke softly against Tony’s lip before kissing him again, this time, more powerfully and with a sense of heat behind it.

Tony let himself fall into the kiss, thinking-

Yeah, for the future.

#steve x tony #Steve Rogers #tony stark #stony fic #mcu stony #fluff #getting together #I love the slow dance trope #my fic

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years ago

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“Shrieking Shack Ghosts” || YEAR 3 – Ch.28 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 10/16/2020

Word count: 3, 207

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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“Oh, of course you don’t look suspicious at all.” Heather crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot as Harry and Ron came down the stairs towards her. “Who would ever suspect you, carrying your school bag on a Saturday morning?”

Harry moved his bag to rest behind him instead of to his side. He crossed his arms back at her. “I’m just going to do some studying in the library after Ron leaves.” He looked around at the empty corridor but there was no need, everyone was at breakfast already, eager to get the day started.

She rolled her eyes. “We’ll both ‘go study’ today.”

They sat down with everyone and ate, trying to look somewhere between sad and bored and not at all excited to get down to Hogsmeade. They were careful not to look down the table at Hermione, who had told Harry last night she’d tell on him and get the map confiscated if she thought they were leaving the castle. Ron left, winking at them and saying ‘See you soon’, leaving them to finish eating their food slowly, looking miserable, as everyone else got up to leave and line up for Hogsmeade.

Hermione walked up to them, pushing against the river of students and sat down next to Harry, pushing her frizzy hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I really am but you must understand… It’s for your own good.”

“It’s ok. We’re just going to be studying in the library, I guess. Get some homework done so we have more free time.” Harry looked absolutely pitiful as he moved his breakfast around with his fork.

“Alright… I’m sorry.” Hermione got up and hugged Heather before running out the great hall.

The only people left were the second and first years, and a couple of teachers who hadn’t finished breakfast yet. They calmly got up and walked out, making sure to head up the entrance hall stairs before waving down to Ron and Hermione who both waved up at them with very different looks.

They hurried up to the third floor and opened up the one eyed witch. While Harry shoved his bag inside Heather opened up the map and scanned the halls. A tiny set of footprints were heading their way.

“Harry!” she hissed. “Neville’s coming!”

“How close?”

“Harry! Heather!” Neville had spotted them around the corner.

Harry quickly closed the witch’s hump and stepped back. They stood against the opposite wall as far back from the witch as possible to avoid suspicion.

“Neville. You aren’t going to Hogsmeade?” Heather slipped Harry the map and he stuffed it in his pocket. “Oh, I forgot.”

Neville stopped right next to them. “It’s part of my punishment. Hey what are you two doing? We could play exploding snap together! I’ve gotten good… kind of.”

Heather and Harry looked at each other.

Harry nodded. “Oh, that’d be great… But I have that vampire essay to do for Lupin. We’ll be in the library…”

Neville’s eyes brightened. “Oh, could I join? I haven’t done it either – ”

“N-no… oh Harry, remember we did it last night?” Heather put her hand on Neville’s shoulder. “Sorry we can’t work on it together.”

“You could help me with it then!”

It was clear Neville was desperate for company. They must be the only three people in their year not down in Hogsmeade right now. Maybe they could bring him along? Although it’d be hard to hide under the cloak with him… he was a bit larger than Ron and it was hard enough with just the two of them.

“Er – ” Harry was about to respond when Neville gasped and stepped all the way in front of them, looking over their shoulders.

They turned around and saw Professor Snape walked up to them with arms crossed and narrowed eyes.

“And what… are you three doing here?” His eyes slid from Neville to Heather and stayed on Harry. “An odd place to meet up with friends, isn’t it? – Potter.”

Heather watched Professor Snape’s eyes flick to either side of them, to the closed classroom doors, and then to the one-eyed witch a few feet away. He narrowed his eyes at it and raised a single black brow, looking back at them. He looked as suspicious as Hermione had during breakfast, the same doubtful kind of suspicion.

“We didn’t mean to meet up here we just – ” Harry looked at Heather, “…happened to.”

“Really.” Professor Snape drummed his fingers on his elbow and took a few more seconds to cast them wary eyes. “It’s often your habit to turn up in places you aren’t supposed to be in – especially – places you shouldn’t be in.” He looked from Harry to Heather and she looked down. “I suggest the three of you find somewhere else to be, like your common rooms. I believe I should have assigned enough essays to keep you busy this weekend?”

They nodded and turned on their heels, heading away. Harry turned to look back at him as they rounded a corner but Heather pulled him forward. They walked all the way up to Gryffindor Tower when Heather stopped and pulled Harry to a halt.

“Harry, will you drop me off at my common room?”

Neville was holding the portrait open.

“Oh – er – yeah. It’s on the way to the library and… I forgot I left the essay there last night. See you, Neville.”

“I’ll get my textbook down,” he said and went inside.

“I feel bad for lying to him. Can’t we – ”

“No.” Harry pulled her away and took out the map as he went down the stairs. Once they were away from the security trolls guarding the portrait he pulled it up to his nose and squinted at the tiny words. “Passage is clear. Snape’s on the second floor. Why’s he always just walking around?”

They headed down the stairs to the third floor again, examining the map one last time for anyone nearby.

“His office now. And – ” Harry continued. “He examined the statue. D’you think he knows about it?”

Heather opened the witch’s hump and waited for him to clear the map and put it away. “No, or he would have found your bag.” She pushed it aside and walked in, careful not to slip and fall down the incline. She lit her wand the second the statue closed behind her, before they could be cast in total darkness.

The passage walls looked rough where the light hit as they walked, their steps echoing slightly. It was an odd kind of quiet inside, like the whole world was suddenly muffled. Outside the tunnel, walking around even the quietest of passageways, distant talking or laughter or even birds singing and cawing outside could be heard. Inside the tunnel, it was like silence was the permanent state of things and the thought of talking felt rude and disrespectful to the darkness up ahead.

They walked for several minutes before the eeriness set in, and her mind wandered to places it shouldn’t. The same kind of fear that they weren’t alone in the tunnel, and that Sirius Black would be waiting for them some feet ahead crept in more powerfully than the first time they walked through the tunnel. She was leading the way and hesitating with each step she took, holding her wand out as far as she could, willing the light to reach farther ahead.

“D’you think Ron and Hermione will ever be friends again?” she asked, attempting to distract her mind and calm her racing heart as they walked.

“Why would he examine the statue? He must think something.”

She couldn’t believe he was still stuck on Professor Snape. “Harry. He isn’t an idiot you know. All Slytherins know he can smell out trouble a floor away and you’re always getting in the middle of things that get us into trouble. I’m pretty sure I’d be top of his class if he didn’t hold a grudge against me because of you.”

“But I haven’t done anything this year.”

“You’re doing something right now.”

“WE’RE doing something.”

She decided not to respond. They reached the end of the tunnel eventually and, under the invisibility cloak, they emerged out of Honeydukes and looked around for Ron, spotting him sitting on a bench across the street, eating candy.

They walked up to him and Heather kicked his foot lightly. “Here. Finally.”

“What took you so long!” Ron frowned and got up, stuffing his candy back in his pockets. “It’s been an hour.”

They set off down the street walking next to Ron as he tried his best not to look like he was talking to himself.

“Snape was hanging around the statue.”

“Harry thinks it’s weird Professor Snape was suspicious of us.”

“He was suspicious of the statue.”

“If he knew about it he would have told Dumbledore.” Ron tried to keep most of his mouth shut as he talked. “Or he would have hidden in the tunnel waiting to catch you. It would’ve made his day – or life – depending on how many detentions that gets you.”

“Or he’s caught Fred and George around there too.” Heather wondered how Fred and George managed their mischief with him around. She never saw them in the same room together, apart from breakfast and dinner. Maybe they purposefully stay as far away from him as possible… with the map that would have been easy, just taking opposite stairs or walking down different passageways.

“In here,” Ron said out of the corner of his mouth, stopping right outside the Owl Post.

He pretended to look at cards to send to his brother Bill in Egypt while her and Harry looked around. The Owl post was a small looking shop two levels high, except it had only one floor. Walking in, there was a front desk and hundreds of different letter-related things in organized clear drawers all around the first level walls. Then, up high above their heads were hundreds of owls hooting and looking down at them, twisting their heads in curiosity.

Heather had the feeling they could see them under the cloak, but none came down to inspect them, not even when Heather tempted fate and held her arm up under the cloak to see if one would land on it. Harry pinched her and she tried not to yelp, quickly putting her arm back down.

“Where are you?” Ron muttered.

They pulled on his sweater and they left.

“Zonko’s next.”

They followed Ron into the shop and found it incredibly hard to remain hidden surrounded by so many students and children packed all around looking at products. Heather hated it inside, being reminded of the only time they’d been in a toy store with Dudley and his greedy hands touching every toy he could reach. Back then she’d been taller than both Harry and Dudley and was forced to reach up and grab things for him. The fact she nor Harry were allowed to touch anything made the experience much worse.

Harry, however, happily gave Ron coins to buy several jokes and tricks. He stuffed his pockets with Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap, and Nose-Biting Teacup apiece.

“I hope you aren’t planning on using those.”

“Who are you? Hermione?” Ron said bitterly.

What little Hagrid’s talk did for Ron yesterday had been quickly erased by Hermione’s threat and he was back to hating her. The wind threatened to blow the cloak off them and they decided it’d be best to get away from the town. It was a nice day aside from the cold and Ron thought it would be less scary to visit the Shrieking Shack.

“I tried going up here last time with – well you know who – but the snow made it hard to look at properly. I thought there was someone on the lawn but it was just a snowflake stuck to my eyelash.”

For it supposedly being the most haunted dwelling in all of Britain, it didn’t look so scary. It looked like it was swaying in the wind, ready to topple onto itself any second. The paint was a dark cream color and the roof a light grey. The windows were all boarded up and the door had several chains on it. There were surprisingly no visible holes or missing boards but it still looked like it was falling apart. It looked lonely and sad, not scary.

“Creepy,” Harry said.

“What’s supposed to be so scary about it?”

Ron leaned on the fence and swallowed. “No one can get into it – Fred and George tried of course – but it’s sealed shut. But everyone in town swears at one point or another, they’ve heard terrifying sounds coming from inside. I asked some of the ghosts about it and they say they avoid it and warn students to avoid it too.”

It was the only house on the hill and hidden safely behind a forest of short and thin grey trees with almost black looking leaves all dried but still hanging onto their branches. Whatever noises the town heard must come from something incredibly loud to travel all the way down passed the woods.

“It’s getting hot under here.” Harry reached for the bottom of the cloak when he stopped.

Heather heard Draco before seeing him climb over the hill, walking the dirt path between the tree lines towards them.

“ – remind me about the owl I’ll be getting from my Father. I’m sure the hearings going well. He’s telling them I couldn’t use my arm for three whole months.”

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind them, a little more winded than him from climbing.

“Imagine that big hairy moron trying to defend that stupid bird. ‘He won’ ‘arm anyone, honest. He’s innocent, he is – ‘ can you imagine?” He shook his head and spotted Ron suddenly. His smile turned into a wicked grin and his quick steps slowed and smoothed. “Ah, Weasley. House hunting, are you? Bit of a dream house for you though, isn’t it?”

Ron’s face went red as he scowled. “Leave me alone Malfoy.”

“I supposed it’d be a big step up. Maybe with this one, your family won’t have to all sleep in the same room. And you won’t be sleeping in a cupboard – oh wait, that the Potters, isn’t it?” Draco laughed and looked at Crabbe and Goyle happily as they laughed too.

Heather felt her own cheeks go red at the mention of their old room situation. Ron took a step forward but Harry pulled on the back of his shirt.

“I’ll take care of him,” Harry hissed into Ron’s red ear.

“No!” Heather tried protesting but there wasn’t much she could do unless she wanted Harry to walk away, cloak and all.

Heather followed Harry around behind Crabbe and Goyle and crouched down with him as he picked up mud.

“Don’t,” she tried again but he didn’t listen.

“We were just talking about that oaf friend of yours. Well, you know him best. D’you think he’ll cry at the mention of that hippogriff getting its head – ”

Harry quickly stuck his muddy hand out from under the cloak and flung as hard as he could, hitting the back of Draco’s head, covering his silver-blonde hair with thick brown muck.

Draco whipped around, looking angrily behind them. “What was that!” His anger melted into confusion when his frantic eyes spotted no one.

Harry and Heather had crept back around to stand to their far left. Harry picked up a moss covered stick and flung it, hitting Crabbe wetly on his neck.

“Argh!” Crabe started punching the air, taking quick steps towards them with every punch he gave.

“I think you made the house mad, Malfoy.” Ron leaned against the fence, pointing a thumb towards the swaying shack.

Draco finished rubbing the mud off him when he seized Ron’s sweater. “You’re doing this!”

SPLAT.

“It’s got me!” Goyle wiped green-ish mud off his uniform.

Draco swirled around, looking at Goyle and Crabbe hitting and kicking at the air. Heather was crouching down, covering her mouth with her hands trying not to burst out laughing. Harry was standing above her, ready to throw a stick when one of Crabbe’s kicks caught a bit of the cloak and pulled it down.

Harry quickly caught it at his neck and pulled it back up but Draco had already spotted him, pointing and screaming at where Harry’s head had appeared and then disappeared. Crabbe and Goyle hadn’t seen but ran back down the hill as soon as Draco yelled. Draco ran after them, looking somewhere between angry and scared.

Ron pointed down the hill. “You guys better run! He’s probably on his way to tell on you! Get to the castle fast – ”

“See you!” Harry yelled and pulled Heather up by her arms.

She had been frozen with dread the second Draco had pointed in their direction and screamed. As they ran down the path to Hogsmeade, she couldn’t help but picture him bursting through the doors screaming at the top of his lungs that he’d ‘just seen Potter in Hogsmeade!’ at everyone.

They got down to the town and the first thing she spotted was the apothecary sign swaying in the wind across from the Three Broomsticks.

“Wait!” She ducked out from under and ran in.

If she was going to get in trouble for going into Hogsmeade, then she had to make it at least worth it. She slammed the list down on the counter and huffed at the old man staring at her red and sweaty face. He took it without a word and started putting it all together in a white cloth bag. She could hardly enjoy the experience, thinking about whether anyone would believe Draco. It wasn’t common to have a cloak, and Draco probably thought Harry or any other non-pureblood wouldn’t have one… but Professor Dumbledore knew they did. And she was sure Professor Snape, even if he didn’t know about the cloak, would be highly suspicious of them.

The old man set the bag of ingredients on the counter and waited for her to count up her coins. He gave her a polite nod as she handed them over and picked up her things, running back out of the store. She looked around wildly but found absolutely no hint of where Harry was. Did he leave her?

Just as her panic began to worsen, she felt something push her into the alley between shops and she ducked under the cloak again.

“You’re mad!” Harry hissed. “Let’s go!”

The apothecary hadn’t taken any longer than five minutes max, but it felt like she had doomed them already. She stuffed the bag strings through her skirt belt loops and tied it closed, stuffing the bag up into her sweater and stuffing the sweater end into her skirt, keeping the bag of ingredients tucked inside neatly.

They ran inside Honeydukes, slipped in the back shop door, and down the stairs into the trap door. Heather could only hope, as they ran as fast as they could, wands lit and extended out, that the tunnel was a shorter distance than the path leading up to the school.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Chapter List

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#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x oc #severus x reader #snape x oc #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction

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bcbdrums · 4 years ago

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Perfect

FFn link --> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13577191/10/The-Little-Ones

Here, have some romantic Drakgo fluff!

This was a speed-write; please forgive errors.

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

Drakken was still patting his face dry after shaving when he emerged from the bathroom. A sound somewhere between a whine and a growl brought his eyes immediately to the bed where Shego sat up leaning against the headboard. Her head was tilted to the side as she brushed her long hair—or at least, attempted to.

Her brush had clearly hit a tangle and her teeth were bared as she adjusted the position of her brush and tried again. The result was the same.

Drakken opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Shego's hairbrush became engulfed in green flames and was then thrown powerfully against the red, stone wall. It bounced off and fell into the moat, where steam rose in a hiss as the flames were doused.

Drakken pursed his lips. "Was that my brush?" he asked, his tone soft and slightly injured.

Shego's own lips were pursed, but not in anger when he looked to her. She nodded to the affirmative, but then she brought her hands to her face in a way that Drakken was sadly seeing more and more often as she tried to hide her tears. He hurried to her side.

"Shego?"

"I... I don't like being pregnant," she said, her fingers curling into fists on her cheeks so he could see her red-rimmed eyes.

Drakken bit his cheek and frowned. He knew she'd wanted to say 'hate'.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong?" Shego said, her fists pressing into the mattress so she could lean forward slightly as she glared at him. "I can't even brush my hair!"

Drakken looked to where her raven locks, still damp from her shower the night before, were draped over her almost nine-month baby bump. He thought she looked radiant. She of course, had other words for it.

The tears on her face and the steaming evidence of his ruined hairbrush in the moat directed his course of action. He knelt at her side and wrapped his arms around her. She gripped one of his arms tightly with her hands and cried into his shoulder. He let her go on for several minutes while he kissed her head and bit down on all of the platitudes he wanted to say to reassure her that it would all be worth it; he knew she didn't want to hear them.

When her cries stilled and her grip became less desperate, he slowly released her.

"Would you like some watermelon?" he asked, leaning back just enough to look at her.

She pursed her lips in defiance, but then gave in and nodded.

"Okay. I'll be right back."

Drakken left Shego sitting on the bed, her pajamas and the bed sheets still twisted and making her that much more uncomfortable. She tossed the sheets back and went about trying to straighten her pajama pants—a task made unusually difficult due to the fact that just sitting up on her own was now a challenge. Her abdominal muscles weren't at her command the way they had always been. And her back hurt immensely from the effort to compensate.

By the time she'd gotten her clothing mostly straightened out, Drakken had returned with a dish of watermelon. He held it out for her to take, and once she had he stepped away to the vanity. Shego took stock of herself again, barely sitting upright with her legs spread and knees bent to help give her some balance, pajamas a bit twisted and her hair a slightly-damp rat's nest over one shoulder.

She was a mess.

She felt tears coming to her eyes again when suddenly, Drakken appeared next to her holding up her hair brush.

"I can brush your hair while you eat," he offered softly.

Shego bit the inside of her cheek to keep her tears at bay as she nodded. She felt the slight dip of the mattress as Drakken attempted to crawl behind her. With effort she scooted forward to give him more space, and after a few seconds his pajama clad bent knees appeared on either side of her hips.

She felt the warm, familiar fingers at the back of her neck as Drakken parted her hair, attempting to take a small section of it unlike the way she had attacked all of it at once in her frustration. She held up the bowl of watermelon and stabbed one of the chunks with her fork and quickly brought it to her lips. The fruit was fresh and sweet.

Drakken finally got about two inches worth of hair free and draped it down over his knee. Shego watched as he started down at the ends as she'd taught him, slowly pulling the brush through to mind the tangles. She ate another bite of watermelon, fascinated by how different it felt just to have different hands pulling at her tresses. It was almost as if her hair suddenly had feeling itself, and Drakken's touch was gentle and soothing.

She couldn't help the relaxed sigh that came through her nose as he set the brush down and his fingers methodically worked on one of the tangles.

"You were never this patient with any of your inventions," she commented quietly, eating another bite.

Drakken didn't answer, but somehow, she knew he was smirking behind her.

"You're more important," was what he wanted to say, she knew. And she knew because he had said it before, so many times. And she always teased him for it, so he had stopped and taken to just smiling instead. A smile bloomed on her own face.

"If you had been this patient before, we could have taken over the world in year one," she taunted him before stabbing two watermelon chunks with her fork and placing them in her mouth.

A feeling of light slowly overcame her. She knew he was smiling as much as she was. His hands freed the tangle he'd been working on, and then he brought his hands back to her neck and his fingers felt along her scalp until he had parted all of her hair in the middle. As soon as the tresses were spread over her shoulders, she leaned back against his chest.

A barely perceptible grunt left his throat as he took on her weight, but she turned her head and kissed his jaw before laying her cheek on his shoulder and pressing her face into his neck. He continued brushing her hair.

"Maybe if I hadn't had a lippy side-kick distracting me, I would have had more patience," Drakken finally answered. His voice was soft and held only mirth.

Shego chuckled and relaxed against him. She pushed the bowl of watermelon aside and rested her forearms over her swollen belly, choosing to just enjoy the gentle feel of his hands in her hair and the strength of his chest at her back.

Minutes passed, their breathing and the working of the hairbrush the only sounds in the room.

"Maybe..." Shego finally said with a contented sigh, "everything is perfect."

She tilted her head back again and watched Drakken purse his lips to try to keep his smile from bursting forth as broadly as she knew he wanted it to.

"...Everything?" he finally asked.

Shego moved her forearms and palms over her belly, tugging her shirt down a bit self-consciously as she did so. She hated being pregnant. But she knew it would all be worth it in the end. For the rest of their lives, it would be worth it.

"Yes," she said, pressing her face into his neck again.

"Mm, lean forward," Drakken said. Shego braced herself with her hands on the mattress and obliged. Drakken brought the parting of her hair back together and brought the brush up to her roots, slowly pulling through the length of her tresses. He had untangled her hair much faster than she ever had. She was impressed.

"Your hair is so soft..." he murmured, almost awed.

Shego closed her eyes and sighed, relishing in the feel of his fingers pulling through her hair after the brush. Finally, she felt him set the brush down and gently pull her hair all over one of her shoulders so the ends wouldn't get tangled due to how they sat.

Shego turned and with a hand on his cheek, gently drew his face to hers where their lips met in a soft kiss. Drakken slowly moved out from behind her and helped her lay down, pulling a pillow under her head before he lay down on his side next to her. She laced her fingers behind his head and gently pulled him down into another warm, gentle kiss. The backs of his fingers stroked the hair next to her face as his lips caressed hers, slow and deliberate in their touch.

One of Shego's hands fell back to the bed as she sighed in delight, while her other arm linked around Drakken's neck to keep him close.

"Mmmh..." Drakken hummed against her mouth, the sound akin to when he tasted a decadent dessert. But his kiss remained tender and chaste.

Shego couldn't help the breathless, delighted laugh that escaped her lips.

"Oh... Drakken..."

#drakgo #drakken #shego #drakken x shego #dragko #kim possible #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #the watermelon saga

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agirlinjapan · 5 years ago

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Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars (Week 30)

Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation

Miss the last piece? Read it here!

Check out the RDG Translation twitter!

Help me pay for my next translation project on Ko-fi.

Week 30! Wow!

Summer vacation is already half over! Where has the time gone?! My birthday was a few weeks ago, and ever since then, I’ve been taking it easy; getting some reading done, working on my own writing, and translating. Once August begins, I’ll have to start planning for the beginning of the new school year. I’m both excited to get started, and sad to be thinking about the end of vacation.

Stay cool in this hot weather!

Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars By Noriko Ogiwara Chapter 4: Mizuho Part 2 (2 of 4)

There was a well-groomed park running along the edge of the concrete harbor. A number of hotels and big buildings were on the other edge of the park that touched the road. Mizuho and Izumiko went into one of these hotels and sat down in a tea room with tapestry covered chairs. There, they ordered an afternoon tea service. After their leisurely tea, they would take a walk through the park towards Osanbashi Pier.

To Izumiko’s eyes, the grand inside of the hotel they were currently in was not unlike the hotel she had stayed at with Sawa and Daisei in Tokyo. However, Yokohama had less of a sanitized feel to it, almost as if it retained each passing year and the stability it brought with it.

When they walked into the park, Izumiko found that the vast, blue scenery of the ocean was visible there. The water was so calm—no waves to be seen, only the water lapping at the edges of boats and the harbor. All the same, the bay gave off a deep, rich feeling that made the concrete space of the park feel pleasant.

It wasn’t possible to see the horizon over the ocean from the bay. Instead, the industrial district on the far shore and the bay bridge surrounded the water. To Izumiko, this was more unusual scenery than the ocean itself. As dusk fell, orange, white, and violet lights began to twinkle on the far shore, the bridge, and the anchored boats, giving the bay a Christmas tree like appearance. While it might have been December, it was unusually mild. The wind on Izumiko’s face was a little cool, but with her coat on, she wasn’t cold.

Izumiko continued to think about this and that as she talked with Mizuho. She wanted to know who Angelica’s father was. She had known Mizuho for a long time, but this was the first time she was talking to her as a member of the ascetic monks.

“Angelica said her father thinks we’ll probably be chosen as a team for World Heritage Candidate. We thought that would be alright to accept. Is that against what the ascetic monks have planned though?” she asked casually as they walked.

“No, we were hoping for that as well,” Mizuho admitted openly. “It’s our long-term wish that you bring together all the spiritually gifted students at Houjou Academy. That was Daisei’s intention when he enrolled you in the school. However, the more your powers awakened, the more we’ve considered other directions. While you were able to purify the school grounds, that doesn’t mean you can prevent every outside force from slipping in. At times like these, you need adults to lend a hand and other people who can help you expel the threat.”

Izumiko automatically thought of the Wild Hunt. Even Mr. Bernard, Angelica’s father, had been suspended in time while the threat had invaded, hadn’t he?

“By threat do you mean the people who want me as a research specimen?”

“Yes. Your abilities could easily be used in some way for research and development.”

“But you use me for research, don’t you, Mizuho?”

Surprised, Mizuho turned to look at Izumiko who was walking beside her. Then she let out a small laugh.

“So even you’re talking about that now, Izumiko. It’s true. Ever since you were born, I’ve been the researcher keeping an eye on you. Yukariko gave me that role and I’m proud of it. Because of that, I don’t feel inclined to let anyone else study you.”

After a pause, Izumiko said, “Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about if the ascetic monks are doing the right thing and if I’m really understanding all the things that I see around me. I’ve been thinking about what Dad does, too. Somehow I get the feeling that all he’s doing is hiding a lot of things…”

Mizuho appeared to think this over for a minute. When she spoke, her tone was different.

“You’re not a child anymore, are you? The ascetic monks certainly have unseen connections to a number of organizations and shadow companies. And they’re definitely wrapped up in things that aren’t always pretty. However, there are no companies completely on the up and up without an underbelly. Everyone pursues profits and that’s not an entirely righteous endeavor. I’m not just talking about the ascetic monks here who hide themselves from society. Even organizations with public faces can’t say they always do the right thing. That’s just as bad.”

Izumiko thought this over quietly.

There’s still too much I don’t know. I have no way of judging what’s going on around me. I guess that means I don’t have any choice but to follow what the adults closest to me say and go where they want me to��

She still wasn’t completely comfortable with the situation she had found herself in. It would have been stranger for her to not feel uneasy leaving for a foreign country by boat so suddenly. But Izumiko finally had to admit that this was most likely what came from being born into such a unique group of people.

As they walked further down the park’s stone pathway, a silver, overhead sign came into view which read, “International Passenger Boat Terminal.”

A regular road seemed to lead all the way up to the pier, but the main road where cars were passing by curved away from it, a line painted on the road leading them in a different direction. The buildings along the road were bright and sparkling with Christmas lights, but the path which Izumiko and Mizuho walked on along at the edge of the water was dark compared to it. There were street lights, but they were made to look liked old-fashioned gas lamps and didn’t give off much light. It made Izumiko feel like she was already in a foreign country.

Before they passed under the “International Passenger Boat Terminal” sign, Mizuho’s cellphone began to ring. She paused, and for a minute, spoke into it in English. Silent, Izumiko looked forlornly towards their destination as she waited. The place looked lonely without any big buildings nearby. They’d be there in just a few more steps.

At that moment, a voice called out from behind them.

“Izumiko.”

Izumiko turned to see Miyuki’s tall frame walking across the nearby intersection. Seeing him approach, Izumiko’s unease finally calmed. Miyuki was also out of his uniform, but in his case, he was dressed casually in a hooded parka, a black sweater, jeans, and sneakers. He wasn’t carrying any bags in his gloved hands.

As he approached, Izumiko wondered if he had ever planned to go to the party, but there was a decent probability that Miyuki and Manatsu would have attended dressed this way. Regardless, Miyuki was outfitted perfectly for what they were about to do. She gave a relieved smile as he walked towards them.

“Did you come by yourself?” she asked.

Just as she was about to ask if Yukimasa had come with him, Miyuki stopped in front of her, out of breath, and said sharply, “Get away from that person.”

“Wait. What?”

“Don’t trust her.”

Izumiko’s eyes went wide at Miyuki’s tone. Miyuki was always so well-mannered around adults. She couldn’t believe he was speaking this way now.

“Have you met Dr. Nakayama before?” Izumiko asked. “She’s Mom’s friend and the doctor Mr. Sagara always brings me to.”

Despite what Izumiko said, Miyuki did not lower his guard. He spoke again, his tone still warning of danger. “Think hard about what you’re doing. Have you noticed you’re being kidnapped?”

“Kidnapped?—No, you’re wrong.” Izumiko looked towards Mizuho. She was scowling now, having just ended her call. “She might have lied about Mom being hurt at first, but Dad and Mr. Sagara knew what was going on.”

“Why are you here then?” Miyuki pushed. “Why are you getting on a boat?”

“Didn’t Mr. Sagara tell you what’s happening and bring you here, Miyuki?”

Izumiko was shocked to see from Miyuki’s expression that he had no idea what was going on. Finally, she began to get the sense that something wasn’t right.

“Where’s Mr. Sagara?”

“Yukimasa doesn’t have anything to do with this. He’s in the US,” Miyuki answered.

“No, he’s on his way back, Miyuki,” Mizuho said, responding to his words. She took a step closer to Izumiko and put a hand on her shoulder before continuing, her voice sounding amused. “Izumiko, he really is something. He actually met us here. I kind of doubted he would until I saw him with my own eyes. I removed any physical way he could have known what we were doing, and yet he was able to pinpoint where you were. I wonder if it was easy for him because we were still in the Tokyo area. I definitely want to look into how what he did was even possible.”

“What are you talking about, Mizuho?”

“I have proof now. Izumiko’s spiritual abilities spread to the people she trusts. The more necessary it is to the situation, the more powerfully the goddess’s power manifests. And that power can be transferred.”

Without hesitation, Miyuki looked squarely at the middle-aged woman in the trench coat. Then he asked ever so calmly, “It’s clear that you’re one of the people who want to see what the goddess’s powers are capable of. I heard a little about it while I was also having tests done in that hospital before. Where are you planning to bring Izumiko?”

“First, we’re going to Hong Kong by boat. From there, we’ll take a plane to California where Daisei is waiting,” Mizuho answered simply.

Miyuki’s retort was quick. “Why did you take her away like that? Are you really bringing her to Daisei?”

“Your father knows all about this.”

“Please don’t assume I’m the same as my father. I won’t let you do this.”

Seeing that Miyuki wasn’t about to give up, Izumiko said timidly, “Um, it’s all true. I confirmed it on the phone a little while ago. Dad said he’s going to meet us at the airport.”

“Did you make sure you really were talking to your dad? Were you the one who dialed Daisei’s number? Just hearing his voice and thinking it sounded like him shouldn’t have been enough to make you believe, you know.”

Izumiko had nothing to say in response to this. Her sense of discomfort was continuing to grow. Daisei had done most of the talking and he had hung up quickly. However, he was the sort who would do those types of things, so she hadn’t thought much of it.

Miyuki spoke up again. “If Daisei was planning to bring you to the US, he would have called you sooner about it. You should stay here in Japan for the very reason that he didn’t do that. The way this is happening is very strange.”

Izumiko was slowly beginning to agree with him. Something had seemed off from the beginning of all this. All the same, she had allowed Mizuho to convince her that everything was fine. Izumiko took a step away from Mizuho and brushed her hand off her shoulder. She gazed at the tall woman.

“Mizuho, you said that you took me away so quickly because I couldn’t go to Angelica’s party, right? You said it was because Angelica’s father would take me as a research specimen. Was all of that really true?”

Miyuki cut in, his voice cold. “You’re actually the one who wants to take Izumiko as a research specimen, aren’t you? At the very least, this has nothing to do with Mr. Bernard’s proposal. The way you’re tricking Izumiko and taking her away is far more suspicious than anything he’s offered.”

Mizuho looked at Miyuki, her eyes narrowing a little. “Huh. So this is what Yukimasa’s son is like.”

“I’m taking Izumiko back,” Miyuki said decisively. “Houjou Academy is where Izumiko belongs now. She’s not going anywhere until there’s a good reason for her to.”

Mizuho shrugged her shoulders. Miyuki’s words appeared to have bothered her.

“I see. I thought that if I could persuade Izumiko to come with me, you would respect her wishes, but it appears that my hypothesis was wrong.”

Ignoring Mizuho’s words, Miyuki grabbed Izumiko’s hand.

“We’re going this way. Come back to the dorms with me.”

As Izumiko took a step towards Miyuki, drawn in by what he had said, Mizuho grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way that’s happening, Miyuki.”

Before Izumiko even knew what was going on, four strong looking men dressed in suits appeared out of the shadows and surrounded Miyuki. Caught off guard, Miyuki tried to jump away, but the men grabbed him by the arms and held him where he was. It looked as if he had been captured by criminals.

“Stop struggling.”

“Let me go!” Miyuki raged, struggling even harder, but one of the men only clamped a hand over his mouth and whispered close to his ear.

“Don’t underestimate what adults are capable of doing, rich boy. I could use a stun gun or tranquilize you. There are plenty of ways that I could turn you into luggage and carry you out of here, but wouldn’t you rather this be easy? You can have a fun time leaving Japan, too. Now be a good boy and start walking forward on your own two feet. Giving in is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Izumiko couldn’t believe what was happening in front of her own eyes. These men she had never seen before, and certainly did not know, all looked strangely the same and they were all taller than Miyuki. They weren’t shikigami nor were they spirits. They were undeniably human, but she had certainly never seen any humans like them before.

Heavy. Cold. Hard…

Whatever it was in those bodies was heavy. From the way the men moved, Izumiko could tell that more than just a heart kept their bodies moving. It was the sort of movement that wouldn’t be able to change course easily due to weight…

As Izumiko stood there staring, Miyuki, threatened into silence, was marched forward, the men’s hands on his shoulders. He turned his head to look at Mizuho.

“This is an impressive crime, Dr. Nakayama.”

Izumiko couldn’t see Mizuho’s expression from where she was standing, but she could assume the woman looked pleased with herself.

“Have you considered that I’m actually more interested in you than I am in Izumiko? As a source of power, Izumiko is one of a kind, but the people interested in getting their hands on her are far more diverse. The valuable thing about her is that we investigate such questions as what conditions lead Izumiko’s powers to influence the things around her, and what is it about the people who can accept her transferred abilities that allow them to do so. That’s you. And that’s why I want you to go with us.”

Miyuki glanced quickly in Izumiko’s direction, but then brought his eyes straight back to Mizuho.

“You’re already scaring Izumiko. I don’t know what’ll happen if you go any further with this.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. Izumiko will listen to what I say. She won’t go against what I tell her to do. We’re going to be together for a long time, after all.”

…Why didn’t I notice it before?...

Only now did Izumiko realize that Mizuho gave off the same aura as the men surrounding Miyuki. When Mizuho had first put her arms around Izumiko in the entrance to the girl’s dorm, she should have felt uneasy. The fact that she had known Mizuho for a long time had prevented her from judging the situation appropriately.

What Mizuho had said was true. Izumiko wouldn’t do anything now. The cold heaviness from the arm around her was sinking into her. She was hardening, unable to make even the smallest movement.

Turning pale at the realization, Izumiko looked harder at Miyuki. He let out a breath and said, “So you stop Izumiko’s power. You’re the ascetic monks’ failsafe, aren’t you?”

“You could say that. I don’t want to use force getting you to come with us. Therefore, I want you to come quietly with Izumiko to Hong Kong. Once we’re on the boat, there’ll be plenty of time to clue you into what’s going on. Then you’ll know what I’ve already told Izumiko.”

With no other options available to them, Miyuki and Izumiko walked towards the pier as captives.

Keep reading!

#rdg #rdg 6 #rdg 6 week 30 #rdg my wish on the night of the shooting stars #translation

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pvccblog · 5 years ago

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Super Ultimate Extreme

What a week. What an amazing week. What an exhausting week. What a magnificent week. What a spectacularly fun week. What a ridiculously relentless radical week. Savage! Legit! Unexpected. Fulfilling. Momentous. Substantial. Yellow. Inexpressible. Hopeful. Precious. Captivating. Revealing. Transformational. Poured out.

Each team member has grown this week. I’ve looked at so many of our students and my first thought has been something like, “Wow, you’re a different person.” But honestly, I don’t think that’s accurate to say. Instead of saying that someone is a different person, I have decided to instead say something more like this – “Wow, you’re becoming more of yourself.” Everyone is a person in process. Every believer is going through a process of becoming more and more of who God made them to be. And who God made us to be is who we are! Today was a great end to this Venture. Sports Camp was packed! We were able to give each of the campers a certificate signed by their coaches. It was very special to them. We love these kids and this community. Megan taught the lesson today on strategy and it was just swell. We were able to recognize Ms. Carol for all her hard work this week and beyond in reaching the kids of this community. We put her in the middle of our group hug!

After camp we went for an outstanding Mexican lunch provided by Gene and Sherry. It was made by a local woman and she absolutely nailed it! The best chile relleno and enchiladas! Then, straight from there we went to Nan’s for a swim and a bbq chicken dinner!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I also want to mention that after camp we dropped Angie, Sydney and Kylie at the general store and restaurant for lunch. They’ve been getting to know a lady there and wanted opportunity to get deeper with her. They did! She got very real with them, along with another worker there and it ended in prayer with her. Please pray for “E”, as well as the other worker, “A”.

BARF Night was well attended and some excellent conversations were had. It started out difficult. One of the teens that had been coming regularly was not there and his mother stopped by and told us that he would not be there because her niece suddenly passed away. They had to go be with family immediately. Some girls gathered around and prayed with her and it got emotional. Please pray for “G” and her family.

Lindsey and Zachary powerfully shared their stories tonight. There were deep conversations going on everywhere and it was hard to leave. We have connected incredibly with this community! Please lift up Raymond Community Church and all their future outreach to this place!!!!

More updates to come over the next week or so, I have lots of thoughts in my head I’d love to write about. Thanks y’all!!!!!

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douxreviews · 5 years ago

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The 100 - ‘The Gospel of Josephine’ Review

"This is what happens when you try making an omelet without breaking any eggs."

This was a serious home run for me.

Can I start with the philosophical conundrum first? If they had come down guns blazing could they have taken Sanctum? Bellamy and Clarke, I mean. Is this what they get for trying to make omelets without cracking eggs? Because Josie made a point of saying if they had treated people like breeding stock instead of (at least) pretending they have free will, the primes wouldn't be looking at extinction. Is the point to just stop making omelets? Because omelets are delicious and that's just not going to work for me as a life lesson.

In the quicksand, Octavia could not stop fighting even though she knew it was killing her and in the end she saved herself (maybe not her hand though?) by going under. Later, Bellamy looked absolutely overcome with terror when he was paralyzed with no hope of fighting back and Clarke reacted similarly when she got tranqued. These people are survivors because they never stop fighting. They never give up. They do what needs to be done and worry about the haunting fallout later. Not being able to fight is their actual worst fear made real; it was powerfully played. I felt the terror rolling off Bellamy. Wow, that's serious writing and acting. Wow wow wow.

More powerful acting prowess came in the form of Josephine herself. She behaves so differently from Clarke, but was believably not caught for a while. Even the way Eliza Taylor speaks as Josie feels differentiated. I didn't notice any hair twirling which I can certainly live with, but it's odd that they went so out of their way to set it up just to drop it here. Josephine seems seriously unhinged. Was she always? Or is this an adverse effect of all the body jumping? She's fun, though. I'd really like her if she weren't trying to kill all my people.

During the previously on, Madi said that no one was going to find out that she's a middle and I couldn't stop laughing. How did I miss that seriously ominous statement. Of course they're going to find out. I was strongly hoping against it though, which is a sign of really being on the edge of your seat. Like when you know the killer is in the closet but you still scream when the babysitter gets sliced and diced. But Madi isn't twenty-one. The 100 usually likes to keeps their major plot arcs to a single season but this could easily end with no resolution, Clarke still being Josie and everyone else heading into the woods to team up with Gabriel and his children.

Murphy's survivalist gene is kicking into overdrive, but here's the rub. I don't think he got this far from desperation. At least not desperation alone. He also knows how to make the smart choice. Well, he did survive grounder torture and captivation by giving up info about his friends. That was pretty desperate. And was compliant as Lexa's slave. Okay, never mind, maybe him wanting to stay in Sanctum is classic Murphy. Maybe his brush with hell is making him regress. That makes sense. He's regressing into selfish survivalist Murphy before he had people that he cared about and that care about him. I'm glad we are here together so I could talk this out. I wonder what he will do when he has to make a choice to save Bellamy. Or Emori, for that matter. I'm torn. I don't want Murphy to get himself dead, but I don't want him to turn his back on his people out of cowardice, either.

I assume we were supposed to be drawing parallels between the primes' desire for immortality and Abby's inability to let Kane die and Murphy outright admitting the appeal of never dying before Josie made her proposal to John. How weird was that, by the way? I guess there is an argument to be made that Bellarke and crew should have met their makers many moons ago. It's through brutality and sheer will to live that they have made it this far, and the primes too. Bellamy and Clarke sacrificed everyone in the mountain (among others) and the primes used the people they made from embryos (probably just scratching the surface) like lab rats killing them to save themselves. If everyone is willing to do whatever it takes to survive and everyone is equally (un)innocent, then are we still smack in the middle of the fighting pits? To the death, may the best man win? Hell, maybe all of this is just a cannibalism-induced dream that Kane is having. Just look at the flowers, Josie.

I can't come up with anything I didn't like. From Jordan going Monty 2.0 to Eliza Taylor's and Bob Morley's exemplary performances to the random team assembled in the reliquary (which is apparently the technical term for hall of bones).

4 out of 4 calla lilies, not daisies.

Bits and pieces

I try not to make every episode picture of Clarke alone. It just doesn't seem fair,, but she's getting all the good storylines. How could I not make it of her last week when she may have died? How could it not be here this week when the name of the episode references the person that body-snatched her? Life is hard for me, you guys. Very hard indeed.

Bellamy knew it wasn't Clarke before anyone else. Abby was almost there but with no sleep and a dialysis-replacing bug on the table, can we really blame her?

Last week Emori, Murphy and Abby were on the sidelines. This week it was Emori, Raven and Echo. Should we take bets on who we won't see next week?

This was the second time that Jordan's newness at secrecy and espionage and survival showed. If you aren't going to kill everyone in the mountain, you have to play it cool, bro. Someone stitch that on a pillow, please?

OMG, was Jasper's last name Jordan?? I'm the worst.

Priya said that Delilah is happy and wanted Jordan to know that. I think this is supposed to give us hope that there is a possible future for Delilah and more importantly, Clarke. But doesn't it just sound like a lie? If the host is alive and essentially paralyzed behind the glass, how could she possibly be happy? That seems, at best, insanely infuriating.

I did not like seeing Brooke tortured. I'd like to not have to see it again. Thank you so much.

Josie: "Did this Ferrari I'm wearing consent to giving up her body?"

Jordan: "I'm serious. Something happened in that reliquary. It's like she doesn't even know me." Bellamy: "Just play it cool. She'll come around." Murphy: "Yeah, that and maybe, like, don't get flowers for a one night stand." This whole interaction made me smile.

Jordan: "I know you think you need to protect us all because you couldn't save Octavia, but I can take care of myself." Silly Jordan. Didn't your parents teach you that it's dumb to go against Bellamy and Clarke?

Xavier: "The harder you fight, the faster you die."

Josephine: "I'm telling you, this ends badly. Either they figure it out, kill me and burn Sanctum to the ground. Or we kill them so they can't burn Sanctum to the ground." I can't say that any of this is groundbreaking stuff. We've been on this merry-go-round many, many times with this series. I'm just enjoying it so much.

Josephine: "Penny for your thoughts?" Murphy: "What's a penny?"

Josephine: "Fill in the blanks, John." Murphy: "That's the second time you've called me... You're not Clarke." Josephine: "I'm gonna be honest with you, Clarke is dead."

I really hope Clarke isn't dead forever. I don't like that.

Laure Mack

#The 100 #Clarke Griffin #Octavia Blake #Bellamy Blake #Raven Reyes #John Murphy #The 100 Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

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artemisegeria · 6 years ago

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Love by Design (Chapter 1/?)

Title: Love by Design (Chapter 1/?)

Rating: T

Word count: 2863

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Summary: Vision makes elaborate foam art as a barista at the coffee shop that his brother owns. One day a new customer comes in, and he completely loses his cool. As she keeps coming back, they grow closer. A casual acquaintance becomes something much more.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272371

A/N: I’ve been writing fanfiction off and on for almost two decades, but somehow I have never written a coffee shop AU. So here it is. Inspired by a Tumblr prompt by user @nahterpie (could not find the original post and user appears to no longer be active) where person A makes extravagant foam art, but completely fails when they see how cute person B is, and these pictures (I originally found them on Pinterest, but I tried to trace them back to the original source). The setting is loosely based off my hometown; all the places described are within easy walking distance unless otherwise stated.

Wanda’s breath fanned out before her in the cold early December air. She was grateful to enter the warm atmosphere of the local coffee shop that she had not yet visited. As she waited in line, she saw a series of beautifully detailed foam art lattes go by. She might have been frustrated if she were in a hurry, but she had no place to be. She merely appreciated the ambiance. The lighting was warm and cozy, and an eclectic collection of cushions covered the chairs. Tasteful holiday decorations lined the walls.

She finally reached the front of the line. Smiling at the barista, she said, “I’ll have a small latte, please.” Her first thought was wondering how she had not seen him around town before. He certainly would stick out; he was unusually tall and quite handsome, with striking blue eyes.

“For here or to go?”

“To go please.”

“It will be ready right away.” His gentle, lop-sided smile was more effective at warming her up than the heated air of the shop.

She decided to sit at one of the chairs lining the counter as he moved from the register to the coffee machine. He looked up at her and smiled tentatively. She felt her own smile grow wider unbidden. However, his hand shook when he began to pour the foam. Instead of an intricate flower, there was just a blob of foam sitting in the middle of the cup. His pale skin flushed, but she said, “It’s fine.”

“I can make you another, Miss. I--.”

“Did my brother ruin your coffee? It’s on the house.” She hadn’t even noticed the second man come up behind the counter. Her barista winced and closed his eyes briefly. Though the second man was a few inches shorter, he was much broader and more powerfully muscular.

“Not at all. It’s perfect.” She reached for the cup and pulled it from the barista’s slightly protesting fingers. Taking an exaggerated sip, she licked her lips and smiled. It really was the best coffee that she had had in a long time. It was far better than the coffee-energy drink hybrids that Pietro tried to force on her or the lightly flavored water that passed as coffee at work.

Wanda raised her cup in thanks, smiling at them one last time. “Have a good day.”

The barista, who was looking at her gratefully, said, “Take care,” while she could feel the other man’s eyes on her as she left.

***

“You are fortunate that the girl was understanding. We have a reputation to maintain.” Vision was tempted to point out that their shop barely remained profitable, nevertheless having a reputation, but of course he didn’t. They were both sitting in their living room above the shop after closing time. Vision tried not to entertain his frequent fantasy of finding his own apartment and finally moving out from under Ultron’s shadow. Unkind as Ultron often was, he was still Vision’s only family.

“I will be more careful in the future. I promise.”

“But if that girl comes back, I’m going to ask her out. She’s the hottest girl I’ve seen here in weeks.”

If her reaction to his brother was anything to judge by, Vision did not think that she would be receptive to the suggestion, but he schooled his face into an appropriately supportive expression. “Good luck.”

Ultron only sneered at him before heading toward his bedroom door. “I don’t need luck.” He closed the door behind him without another word. Vision merely shook his head and entered his own room. The young woman’s smiling face and shining dark hair floated through his dreams all night.

The next morning he completed the various tasks associated with opening the shop. At five he opened the doors only to see the same woman from the previous day. “Hi, I hope your brother didn’t give you too hard a time last night. I have a twin, so I know how siblings can be.”

“Oh, he was fine.” He sincerely hoped that her sibling was nothing like Ultron.

They stood staring at one another until she said, “Um, can I please come in? You are opening up, aren’t you?” It was only then that he realized he was blocking the door. The fight against the blush rising in his face was over before it began. He stepped aside and pulled the door open for her. He flipped on the open sign behind her as she moved toward the counter.

“What can I get you today? Same as yesterday?”

“I think I need a large latte today, to go.”

“Right away.” He went through the motions of making the coffee and steaming the milk, but half his attention was on the girl across from him. Carefully pouring the foam, he attempted to not repeat the same mistake from yesterday. However, he made the mistake of glancing up at her at the wrong moment. Her smiling attention on his hands made them shake, destroying the design again. “I apologize. I’ll take this one if you don’t mind waiting a little longer.”

He was amazed that she was not laughing at him. “I have time.” He repeated the same process. This time he turned around to the opposite counter to complete the foam art. Keeping it simple, he let out a breath when he formed his often-used flower without incident. He handed it to her and was met with a beaming smile. “Thank you. This is beautiful.”

“You are most welcome. Thank you for your patience.” He cleaned the equipment while waiting for the next customer to come in. When he looked up, she was still there, sipping her coffee. “Do you mind if I ask what brings you in so early? We rarely see a customer before six or six thirty.”

“Sure. I’m a high school music teacher. We have an in-service day today. I’m supposed to be there at seven, but I usually need a couple hours to myself before I can handle my colleagues.”

“Ah, I’ll leave you to it then. Have a good day.” He smiled at her one more time.

“I don’t mind your company,” she responded quickly, blushing. “You’ve just never met my co-workers. They’re a lot. Besides, your coffee’s getting cold.” She nodded to the cup that he had abandoned.

He glanced around the shop. There really wasn’t much to do until another customer showed up. Taking her invitation, he leaned sideways against the counter, so that he was facing her diagonally and his face was closer to eye level with her. He drank his lukewarm, but still decent, coffee. They talked about nothing until she looked at her watch and said she had to leave. He watched her go wistfully after bidding her farewell.

***

A few days later Wanda stopped by the shop again as she walked to work. As usual when she was there in the mornings, no one was inside. She approached the counter, but the space behind it was empty. The regular barista emerged from a back room, wiping his hands on his apron and smiling apologetically at her. “Hello again, what can I get you today?”

“I’ll have a large latte.” She handed him some money and dropped the change in the tip jar. “Could I make a request for my foam art?”

“Please. I will do what I can.”

“Could you make me a cute animal?”

“Yes, I can do that. Any particular animal?” She shook her head. He looked deep in thought for a moment and turned around to create the foam art. He handed it to her with a tentative smile. The grin that bloomed on her face as she saw the cat that he had made encouraged a grin in him as well.

“Thank you. This is just what I needed.” The nightmares had been particularly bad last night, and she just needed something light and cheerful.

“My pleasure.” She wished that she could stay longer, but she was running later than usual. She hoped that they had more customers at other times. Now that she had found this place, she wanted to keep coming back.

***

“You know, you should wear name tags.” Vision looked up in surprise. He had not heard the bell on the door jingle when the woman who had been brightening up his mornings so much came in.

A smile spread helplessly across his face. “Why is that?”

“It would save a lot of awkwardness when you’ve had multiple conversations with a person and never learned their name.”

“Ah, well, there is less awkwardness when your conversation partner has not asked your name either.”

She laughed and held out her hand. “Good point. The name’s Wanda.”

He shook it gingerly, his long fingers engulfing her smaller hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Vision.”

“Vision?” Her confusion was a common reaction, but this time it was delivered without the usual mockery. “Is that your given name?”

“No,” he began in a practiced explanation, “it is a nickname, but it seems to have stuck.”

“It does suit you.” No one had ever responded in that way. It made him appreciate the demeaning nickname that Ultron had given him as a child, based on the special coke-bottle glass that he wore when he was younger, for the first time. Wanda’s fingers were tapping against the counter, and she bit her lip. “Are you going to ask what my order is?”

“Oh, apologies.” Vision hoped that his flush was not too evident because his face felt like it was on fire. “What are you having this morning?”

Her smile was reassuring, and no judgment could be found on her face. “No worries. I feel like a hot chocolate today, for here.”

“Right away. Whipped cream?”

“Of course. Does anyone ever say no to that?” She grinned and slid into what was becoming her usual chair at the counter.

“Occasionally. I don’t like to assume.”

“Well, count me in.” He squirted a generous dollop of cream into her mug. At her imploring look, he held back a chuckle and added a little more.

They spent the next hour in pleasant conversation, and the rising sun outside matched the glow that was building in Vision’s chest.

***

The next week Wanda was on vacation during the school’s winter break and took the opportunity to visit her brother. When she returned, she practically skipped into the coffee shop. It was still mostly empty, though it was mid-afternoon on a Saturday. But the face at the counter was not the one with the gentle smile and blue eyes that she wanted to see. Instead it was the brother, whose cold, calculating gaze made her shiver slightly. “Well, well, hello there. Such a pleasant surprise to see you back. I’m sorry again for my brother’s incompetence the last time you came in.” Somehow, she was not surprised that Vision had apparently not told his brother that she had been in since then; the thought that their morning conversations were just for them was gratifying. “He’s always been somewhat useless.”

She suppressed the hot defense that leapt to her lips, which was ridiculous seeing as she had only talked to him a few times. “The coffee was delicious. That’s why I’m back. I’ll have just a small black coffee today, please.”

He handed her the cup. Once she was holding it, he placed his hand over hers, trapping her. “I was hoping you would come back. My friend is opening a new club next weekend. VIP grand opening, exclusive, bottle service, the whole works. He said I could bring a plus one, and I would love for you to accompany me.”

“Thank you, but I already have plans.” Doing anything else. She tried to pull her hand back, but he only squeezed it harder.

“At least think about it.” He didn’t even know her name, and he gave no indication of being interested in it. He had the air of someone who was used to getting his way and not taking no for an answer.

Wanda conceded, “Alright.” He finally released her. He didn’t have to know that she would not do any such thing. She sat at a far corner table and finished her coffee quickly. She took one last look over her shoulder before she left.

***

Ultron strode into their living room and slammed the front door behind him, glaring at the books spread out on the table. “While you were off swanning in your books, that girl whose coffee you ruined the other day showed up again.”

Trying not to show too much interest, Vision said, “Oh?” Wanda had not appeared for over a week since their last early morning conversation, and he was beginning to think that he had said something wrong. Though he could not fathom what he could have done.

“She turned me down.” Vision schooled his face into a commiserating frown. Ultron shook off his rejection, refusing to believe that any woman would fail to be charmed by him. “Well, she’ll change her mind.” Ultron continued in that vein until he turned in for the night.

The next morning Wanda was unexpectedly waiting at the door of the shop when Vision opened. “Good morning.” He ushered her inside the shop. “You don’t have to go into work on a Saturday, do you?”

As he settled in behind the counter, she reached the register. “No, I have a yoga class at six.”

“Ah, at the studio down the street?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Have you been?”

“I tried it once.” He trailed off vaguely. His last yoga class was not an experience that he wanted to dwell on or repeat.

“Only once? You didn’t like it?”

Vision felt his face burn. “It was fine, but I accidentally kicked someone who was next to me.” His limbs had gotten away from him, and he had vowed never to return to the studio. Eager to change the subject, he asked, “So what would you like this morning?”

“A large latte, for here.” He nodded at her and set to work putting on the coffee.

“Do you have a request for your design today?”

“No, surprise me.” He finished her drink. At least it was getting easier to work around her. His hand did not shake at all as he poured the foam to make an elephant face. Vision catalogued the smile that bloomed on her face to save in his memory.

That day was just the beginning of a new expectation that she would be there when the shop opened. A week later Wanda was sitting across the counter from him at 5:15 am for the fifth morning in a row. Her order changed frequently, but he could always count on her to linger on and talk with him about television and movies, the weather, current events, anything and everything under the sun.

“What do you do when you’re not giving me coffee?” she asked, leaning her elbows comfortably on the counter while he inventoried some of their supplies.

He hesitated, not wanting to seem completely pathetic, but there was really only one answer to give. “I study.”

“There must be more than that.”

“In all honesty not much lately. I was close to finishing a Ph.D. in history when I came back to work at the shop full time. I have been trying to finish my dissertation in my spare time.”

“Ooh, could I read it when you finish?”

Her enthusiasm forced a laugh from him. “You may, but I am not sure you’d want to.”

“I think I do. What’s it about?”

“It is about how technology has shaped what it means to be human since the Industrial Revolution.”

“Sounds interesting.” Vision didn’t think she was pretending, and it made him smile. “When do you think you’ll be done?”

“A few months to a year, perhaps.”

“What happens after that?”

“I am not entirely certain. I suppose I will look for a professorship.” Truthfully, he did not know if anything would change. The shop still needed to be looked after, and Ultron was unwilling to hire more people than necessary.

“Good luck.”

“Thank you. And you? What do you do when you’re not teaching or going to yoga classes?”

“Um, teaching, grading, and running the theater program take up most of my time. Then, I usually practice my instruments.”

“What instruments do you play?”

“The piano, cello, and guitar.”

“Very impressive.”

She shrugged. “It’s just something that I enjoy.”

“I hope to hear you play some day.” She ducked her head, and he wondered if he had overstepped. But when she raised her head again, a pleased smile graced her lips.

“Maybe some day.” Glancing down at her watch, she frowned. “I have to go. Have a good day, Vision.”

“You as well, Wanda. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, I can’t do yoga without getting my caffeine fix first.” She waved as she walked out the door. He found himself smiling unconsciously throughout the morning, trying to avoid Ultron’s attention and thinking about what design he would make for Wanda the next day.

#alternateuniversescarletvision #au #fanfiction #scarlet vision #wanda x vision #wanda maximoff #vision #ultron

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tacosandtomcos · 7 years ago

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What're your thoughts on tomstar possibly being canon again?? I mean, I love tomstar, it's cute, but I felt like it was a little rushed, and is possibly a ploy for starco and it's just gonna end up like jarco, but idk.

The difference between jarco and Tomstar, is Tom has had a LOT more history with both Star and Marco on this show then Jackie was sadly allowed to have.

Jackie was far from a bad character and was enjoyable to watch, but Tom has had a lot more powerfully emotional scenes and episodes with both Star and Marco since he came on the show.

Tom literally went through an episode, worrying they were gonna end up together and he was going to be alone. Which kinda makes the possibility he’s just gonna get thrown away by both of them a lot sadder, because now he’s actually in the middle of it.

My biggest problem, next to how cruel that is to Tom, is if that happens, that’s it’s a repeat.Which is kinda lazy writing, i mean really? Do we really want to watch the same plot we literally just saw end not that long ago?

Crew: So jarco broke up? What should we do next?

Crew: I know, let’s do the exact same plot, but use Tom instead, and reverse the roles between Star and Marco!

like, if this ends in another break-up, then it’s just gonna feel like it was there to stall or build on another ship, and that freaking sucks. If you’re getting them together, make it MEAN something, i don’t want Tom’s entire reason of being in this season and getting all this character development with Star.....to be a plot point.

Tom’s clearly being given a much more prominent role this time around, and whether or not he’s respectful of Star’s choices doesn’t mean it’s not gonna hurt if Star just stops liking him and goes back to Marco again.

They’re his closest friends y’know?

You’re in a tight spot, either you give them a similar mutual break-up, which becomes repetitive and makes the audience question why this was necessary.

Or you break his heart, which makes someone look bad.

I hope the writers know what they’re doing.

And yeah, if i had any real big complaints about Club Snubbed, is that in context i’m not entirely sure why Tom and Star are ok with each other at the end of the dance.

I mean, Star i could infer based on the earlier fight, is that a part of her has always wanted Tom to still be a part of her life, but she’s never been able to express that to him before or figure out what she wants from him.

Tom, i’m less sure about because Star was giving him a lot of crap over him doing his best, but he’s the one who asks her out? I dunno, maybe Tom also wanted something similar, to still have some kind of relationship with her and the dance sorta made him realize that, but it could’ve been made a lot clearer.

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volcanofireflame150 · 5 years ago

Text

Itsuki Akari’s Background

Itsuki was only a baby when the Head Captain Yamamoto found her, she was crying for hours when the place she was abandoned was completely surrounded by Hollows. Some of the Hollows were very close of killing the infant that was Itsuki when Yamamoto came in and killed them all before they even got to her or given the chance to do so. He then looked in the cradle, he saw her in there, picked her up, calmed her down, then the Head Captain of the 13 squads, Yamamoto, decided to take her in to his care. He gave her all the things she needed to grow up, he took care of her when she turned 3 years old.

At the age of 3, Yamamoto stopped taking care of her when bad things were happening in the Soul Society and all the captains were needing his help, Itsuki was trying to find him but then she stumbled upon a beautiful meadow with a gigantic Scythe right in the center of the meadow. As she was staring at the Scythe, the spirit of the Scythe sees her and motions her to come over by sending off a warm welcome sensation. Akari started to crawl over to the Scythe, by this point, Yamamoto was going into the room she was in and he notices that she's not in there and he asked Kisuke Urahara, who by this point was in the Soul Society, to find her as soon as possible. Urahara did so but he couldn't find Akari, while that was happening, Itsuki was making her way towards the beautiful spirit and the dangerous Scythe, the spirit was named is unknown but she calls herself Shadow Phoenix because she's a majestic Phoenix and her original name does not match on her whatsoever, so she never told anyone who wields her on her original name nor does she want to.

But anyway, Itsuki finally made her way to the Scythe, which was the blade was in the ground exposing the sharp end, and she almost touched the sharp end when she was stopped by something invisible touching her from almost cutting herself by the sharpest blade of all blades in the Soul Society. Then Shadow Phoenix made herself visible to Itsuki, the first word that came out of Akari's mouth was, "M-m-ma-mama?" That broke Shadow Phoenix's heart because she discovered that Itsuki is an orphan so she took over the parent position part over Yamamoto, and decided to raise Itsuki as her own, she made herself visible to all people in the Soul Society and went to a house that was made by her then started taking care of Akari. Shadow Phoenix was born with motherly instinct because it is natural for female Phoenixes to have a knowledge on what to do when it comes to a child in need, for example Akari, from that point on Shadow Phoenix has been calling her Akari instead of Itsuki because at that point Akari didn't know on how to talk and is too young to write or to do anything. So, when Urahara did not find Itsuki he then noticed that the Scythe, that used to be in the middle of the beautiful meadow, was gone and left a mark on the ground. He didn't know that Shadow Phoenix existed but he knows that something big and powerful was lurking around the meadow keeping the meadow from losing its beautiful texture, but now since Shadow Phoenix was encountered by Akari, the meadow was starting to lose it's beautiful texture. Urahara reported this news to Yamamoto, the Head Captain sighed thinking that Akari must've woken her up but Shadow Phoenix came in and told them what happened. Since Urahara now has an idea on who Shadow Phoenix is and how powerfully aggressive she can be when angered, he did not try to flirt or question her, he basically did the smart thing and kept his mouth shut. Same with Kyoraku, he kept his mouth shut because he accidentally said her true name and she threw a Fire Ball at him and thankfully she missed because he dodged it quick. Then she said if he said her true name again and she'll cast a super nova spell on him. Then she looked down because someone was tugging her dress, she looked at who it was with an angry look then notices Akari was remained with her. Shadow Phoenix cooled down because she didn't want to frighten Akari so she did her best to keep calm when Akari is around. Then came around when Akari was 5 years of age, she asked Shadow Phoenix if she was her true mother, Shadow Phoenix knew this day would come, but she had no choice but to tell Akari the whole truth about what happened. 5 days go by, Akari spent her time away from Shadow Phoenix in order to take in on what she was told by Shadow Phoenix. On the day after the 5th day, she approached Shadow Phoenix and the Scythe, she got a hold of the Scythe and said, "I don't care if I'm not your real daughter but it doesn't matter, what does matter was that you or the old man, Yamamoto, didn't leave me alone to starve to death or worse gotten killed by those Hollows. So, I thank you for taking me into your care when the old man was no longer taking care of me." Shadow Phoenix never felt so happy, then she notices within those 5 days, Akari was accepted to be a Soul Reaper. After all those times, Akari was managing things by herself because every where she went, she always brings the Scythe almost everywhere with her because she knows the Shadow Phoenix would protect her forever, that was when she got into a heated fight with Kenpachi Zaraki at the age of 8 because he kept pummeling her down hard on the ground and that's when her inner Phoenix snapped and turned the tables and started to attack Zaraki with what he was doing to her. All she was seeing was pure red and anger, that's when her first encounter with Renji Abarai and Ichigo Kurosaki, they managed to pull her off without burning themselves, Renji told Zaraki to scram which thankfully Zaraki did, Ichigo had her held back then Renji snapped his fingers in front of her, she snapped out of it, she thanked them for stopping her, she didn't know what she was doing through all that. Her first meeting with Shuhei was an accident, she was making her way to the barracks of Captain Kenpachi's squad but she mistakenly stumbled upon Shuhei's squad, he was the only one there and spotted her, he asked her, "What brought you here?" Then she shyly said in a very quiet voice when Ikkaku rudely shooed her away, she knew she was different from the other Soul Reapers, she was known to show emotion than the other Soul Reapers, that's was her first encounter with Ikkaku and Shuhei, but she was really trying to get around because she is very nervous around other people because she's been alone her entire life, then she approached Byakuya Kuchiki in a rose garden he asked, "Why are you just standing there?" She was still scared of approaching him, he looks at her, walks up to her, and in his hand, he is carrying a rose then he placed it in her hair. As soon as he placed the rose in her hair, he was seeing her eyes glow up, he slightly smiled and asked, "Would you like to see the roses?" She nodded, that's what started her loving roses, she smiled big time then hugged him thanking him, then Renji came by seeing this he gently smiled because Akari was really having a rough time fitting into the 13 squads of the Soul Society. The second encounter with Shuhei, was when her birthday was around the corner, she said out loud that her birthday was coming, then Shuhei asked her on what would she like, she told him that she would like roses because that's the only thing she likes. Then the following day and the days before her birthday, he kept sending her roses to her barracks of her squad, before she switched over to Captain Hitsugaya's Squad, and Captain Kenpachi kept telling her that her emotions are starting to show her weakness and he told her that he might as well kill her if this keep going. That's when she decided to run away from him because he was really terrifying her, Renji walked up to her seeing her crying because she beautiful roses were destroyed by Captain Kenpachi. Then he decided that enough was enough for Kenpachi trying to frighten her to no end, then he went to the Head Captain Yamamoto to have her switch to a captain of her choosing. She chosen Toshiro, both Renji and Rangiku sighed in relief when she had chosen Captain Hitsugaya. When she went to the new barracks of her new squad, Shuhei sees her and she tells him that Captain Kenpachi destroyed the roses he kept sending her, Shuhei told her to not worry about it, he actually complimented on how beautiful she is, she blushed, and told him on how handsome he is, Shuhei also blushes, then she turns around telling him that it should end like this hoping no one sees them flirting with each other. Shuhei agree because it was love at first sight for them, they just began the friendship and they started flirting with each other. Each time when there is no one around, they always meet in secret while she looks at the sky while he looks at the beautiful colors in her eyes. Her eyes are a mixture of orange and yellow, she's loves watching the sun rise and sun set, Shuhei would always take her to a high place of the barracks so she would be able to see both sun rise and sun set. They always find each other in secret during their breaks because Akari trusts him more than anyone, she was originally asked by Rangiku if she wanted to shop with her, then Akari said no, and snuck past her while Toshiro had his back towards Rangiku and her. Shuhei would always meet her the same rose garden that Byakuya met her in, she went there and he made sure that she was comfortable at where she is at. Shuhei and Akari made sure that their actual relationship status does not explode because she is barely making the rank of being the 3rd Seed Seat of the 10th Squad. Though both Renji and Rangiku have been putting the pieces together, both Akari and Shuhei would end up missing during break time, Rangiku asked Renji, "What if they are actually dating?" "Nah, I don't think Itsuki believes in love," Renji would say. Then when Akari came back to Squad 10 barracks, she sees Renji smiling at her telling her that he knows about her and Shuhei, she gets super angry then mysteriously casted a Fireball, then asked, "Do you really want to start with me, Renji?" After that Renji knew the truth on why she never gets angry, her anger is her strength in battle because she's a Pyromancer, and she uses her anger for her fire attacks. Not to mention, she carries the most deadliest weapon of all: the Scythe, according to Renji and Ichigo. But her real first encounter with Ichigo, she didn't really count when both Renji and Ichigo had to pull her away from Captain Kenpachi, but her first encounter with him was unexpected, she was going to meet up with Shuhei but instead she met Ichigo. Ichigo had told her that he was going to fill for Shuhei since Shuhei is busy doing his duties something about some of his comrades have a sneaky suspiscion that Shuhei had fallen in love with a novice Soul Reaper, this realy angered Akari, she asked him on where Shuhei's barracks are, and he quickly answered by saying that he's only filling in for him because Shuhei is trying his best to make time for someone he cares about. This relaxed Akari because she had forgotten that Ichigo has no idea on why she was waiting for Shuhei and Ichigo had a feeling about those 2 secretly dating already but he told her that he tells any secret. Akari then looked at him and smiled for not telling anyone else, somehow she felt safer around Ichigo than she did with Toshiro. Every time her break time comes around, she always finishes up on what she's doing so she doesn't miss Shuhei, she tells Toshiro that she's taking her break then his brotherly instinct comes in to play he's trying to figure out on why she always rushes. Then he sees Shuhei meeting her out the door of the Squad 10 barracks, he didn't think anything of it, he only thought that Shuhei was only meeting her and head back to his barracks, then he noticed both were gone for a while. Toshiro was walking around trying to find the 2, Shuhei was the only one letting her feel wanted and welcomed, Akari had her head laying on Shuhei's chest while he rest as well, Toshiro sees this and got back to the barracks without saying anything knowing that Akari only feel safe with Shuhei, when she got back she noticed that her desk was missing, Rangiku told her that Captain Hitsugaya had moved her into a office, Akari looked into the room seeing Toshiro, Renji, Ikkaku, and Yumichika in that room. Toshiro sees her and tells her that this is where she will be for the time being. She nodded, though she felt relieved that she can keep seeing Shuhei in secret, though Shadow Phoenix has a bad feeling that the only reason why Toshiro was doing this was so he can keep Akari from Shuhei. Shadow Phoenix tells Akari this and Akari has a plan if it turns out to be true, she took 5 of her paychecks, assuming that Soul Reapers get paid for doing their jobs, then she transferred the paychecks into the currency that the Soul Society has, then she went into the market place to get a couple groceries, and she got seeds to plant her own food. Shuhei spots her wearing a beautiful Red, orange, and yellow dress that she had found, she sees him, waves at him, then he began to ignore her for how beautiful she was in that dress. She wonders why he ignored her, then he told her on what he was thinking. After hearing his compliment, she told him that she likes being different, she wore the dress because it was the only one that could make her eyes sparkle like Fire, he sees her eyes clearly now, he tells her that she has Amber eyes, and then tells her that she is even more gorgeous than ever. When literally everyone knows that those 2 would always end up missing and secretly meeting each other, they have a thought as to what is happening, Yumichika got jealous that he is more handsome than Shuhei, then Ikkaku said that Shuhei only wants her for other reasons, then Renji had enough saying that they getting serious day after day and he also says that he is happy that Akari has someone that cares about her more than anyone, minus him and Ichigo. When the news of Shuhei and Akari got to the Head Captain, Yamamoto told everyone to leave them alone in peace, if they are secretly dating then they should be left alone. Yamamoto could see those 2 clearly because his office is right outside, so the old man knows about the 2 because he never tells anyone about what's going on.

#bleach anime #ichigo kurosaki #renji abarai #byakuya kuchiki #kenpachi zaraki #yumichika ayasegawa #ikkaku madarame #shunsui kyoraku #kisuke urahara #toshiro hitsugaya #rangiku matsumoto

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thismanateelovestowrite · 7 years ago

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When Minhyuk gets in to a fight and you are upset

Thanks for requesting~ I’m sorry for having taken so long to post this, I had the plot in my mind for a long time but I just couldn’t bring myself to write this for some reason >< Anyway, I hope you enjoy~ ^^

mx requests make me so happy TuT also, i hope this isn’t too angsty for you ><

Words: 2912

this turned out to be way more Angsty than i expected

Requested by anon ♥

You tried very hard not to let the extremely disappointed sigh escape your lips. You didn’t know what time it was but you were quite sure it was already well past midnight. It wasn’t very common for you to be up that late but there you were, sitting in the dark on the edge of your bed while holding your phone in your hands. You kept reading the message sent by your boyfriend, Minhyuk, again and again. It read that he wouldn’t be coming home for the night and even though he didn’t state the reason, you already knew why. He always came home for the night - usually early in the evening - unless he had taken part in a fight.

You were dating a gang member - something that only happens in movies. Minhyuk was part of a gang called X and that was all you knew about it. You did know some of the members - six of them - since they were Minhyuk’s close friends but that’s it. You weren’t told about what went on inside the gang and you didn’t know much about the relations it had with other gangs. That’s how it was supposed to be and you were quite glad that you weren’t involved with any of the gang stuff. You had heard from Minhyuk that gang members were usually smart enough to keep their relationships private. Rival gangs didn’t hesitate to provoke their rivals by kidnapping or harming their significant others.

Now, it wasn’t the fact that you wouldn’t be able to sleep next to him that made you disappointed. Instead, it was him you were disappointed in. Countless times you had told him that you disliked it more than anything when he took part in fights. Usually he told you not to worry and that he would be seen weak if he didn’t take part in them. Occasionally, though, he told you he would stop. At those times you were usually in tears and he was quite badly injured. Still, despite him telling you he would stop, you always found yourself looking at his bruised face only a few weeks later. You had known that dating a gang member would be very different compared to a normal relationship but you had still secretly hoped that the fights wouldn’t be so frequent.

It crossed your mind that you should maybe text him and ask how badly he was injured but decided against it. You were too disappointed and irritated to care about it at that moment so you tossed your phone to the night table next to the bed and lay down, finally letting out the heavy sigh that had threatened to escape your lips.

***

While cycling down the bumpy old road that had become familiar to you during the past few years you had dated Minhyuk for, you tried hard to not turn around. In all honesty, you didn’t want to go to the abandoned factory your boyfriend and his friends always hung out at. After having slept only a few hours the night before in the bed that had felt uncomfortable due to Minhyuk not taking up the extra space in it, you really did not feel like facing the seven gang members who had probably had a fun night. You knew they always held a small - sometimes a little bigger - party after a fight and the thought of spending time with the probably hungover guys made you frown.

You let your bike fall to the ground and let out a sigh while looking at the factory in front of you.

“I might as well go in since I already came here,” you mumbled to yourself and walked to the entrance.

After getting inside it took you a few minutes to arrive where the seven guys were. Two of them slept on the old couch, a few had passed out on the floor and Minhyuk was deep asleep on the old armchair you usually sat in during your visits. The guys all had bruises on their faces and a few had some cuts too. Minhyuk’s face was only bruised which would have made you feel relieved if you hadn’t been so damn annoyed.

He always has fun while I’m sick with worry.

You took off your backpack and opened it before reaching inside it. You walked to the table placed in the middle of the seven sleeping guys and placed the thermos filled with green tea on it quite powerfully.

“Could you not produce such loud sounds this early in the morning, _____?” a drowsy voice murmured behind you and you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. The voice belonged to Changkyun who had been sleeping on the couch with Hyunwoo.

You took out the bananas you had brought and placed them on the table next to the thermos. “For your information, it’s already eleven o’clock,” you said with a tone that you hoped would signal him that you weren’t in a good mood.

“Like I said, early in the morning,” he murmured and you rolled your eyes, not the least bit amused.

“God,” Hoseok groaned and you turned your head to see him getting up from the floor, holding his back. “What a rough night…”

“Did you bring the bananas?” Kihyun got up from the floor on your other side and wobbled over to the table.

“As always,” you stated.

One after another the guys woke up and greeted you in their own ways. As you had expected, they weren’t in the best shape. Hyungwon and Hoseok had a few small cuts on their faces and Hyunwoo had a bleeding cut on his arm. The others were quite badly bruised. Changkyun had a black eye and Jooheon didn’t look much better either. Kihyun was probably in best shape - his face didn’t have many bruises and his body seemed fine too though he was probably the one with the worst hangover.

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. “Did you sleep well?” Minhyuk’s raspy voice asked and he rested his chin on your shoulder while leaning his head on yours.

“No,” you coldly said and handed Kihyun a cup filled with tea.

Minhyuk was obviously a little taken aback by your cold tone since he let go of you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, confused and concerned.

You didn’t even glance at him and shook his hand off your shoulder before stomping away. Minhyuk was dumbfounded.

Hoseok whistled. “She seems mad.”

“Seems?” Hyunwoo chuckled. “She is mad.”

Minhyuk felt quite helpless and looked at the others.

“Good luck trying to make her forgive you,” Changkyun patted his shoulder and grabbed a banana.

“What did I do?” Minhyuk asked, extremely confused.

“It’s probably better if you figure that out yourself,” Hyunwoo stated.

***

You sat on the stairs that led to the second floor of the factory. They felt cold under your bottom but you didn’t care. You were too irritated to pay attention on stuff like that.

He’s such an ass.

You threw a small rock down the stairs and listened to how it hit the floor further away. The sound echoed in the empty hall.

Idiot…

Sometimes you questioned your relationship with Minhyuk. Was it all worth it? Did you deserve the treatment you were getting? Even though you badly wanted to leave the relationship behind and move on, you couldn’t bring yourself to break up with him. You loved him more than you had ever loved anyone and you knew that he loved you too. At the same time you felt happy but also hurt. Seeing him get hurt made you hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you grew annoyed again upon hearing Minhyuk’s voice. Soon after he appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

You kept your mouth shut and looked away.

“Please forgive me,” he pleaded with an apologetic tone that only made you more irritated. “_____, I really am super sorry.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying hard not to explode.

“Can’t you just forget it? Huh? Honey, please. Forgive me? I’m so-“

“Do you even know why you’re apologizing?” you turned your head and said the words with such irritation that they were like bullets shot at him.

He was quiet for a bit. “For the fighting?” he hesitantly asked.

You let out a sigh and looked away again.

“Look, we’ve talked about this before. You know why I can’t stop taking part in the gang fights. It would be shameful.”

You felt a lump in your throat and it was slowly growing.

“I know it makes you worry but I just can’t stop. I’m sorry but that’s how things are and you’ve always known it,” he told you, his voice apologetic.

“Your gang is more important than me, isn’t it?” you mumbled, staring at your hands that rested on your lap.

“Don’t say that,” he said and walked up the stairs to where you sat.

“But it’s true,” you said quietly and swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“_____...” he called your name and you stood up.

“I’m going home,” you mumbled and walked past him while avoiding his gaze. You hurried out of the factory, not even saying goodbye to the rest of the guys who gave you confused looks when you walked past them.

After getting outside you didn’t hesitate before lifting your bike and getting on it. Your heart ached and you didn’t feel angry anymore. You felt sad.

***

There was a weird emptiness inside you. You were lying on your bed that also felt empty. Minhyuk hadn’t come home yet and you doubted he would.

He’s probably out partying with the rest of the gang. Or fighting…

Your heart was aching and had been aching since you had left the factory. You were heartbroken and you didn’t know why. All you knew was that it hurt like hell.

Your phone vibrated on the night table and you reached for it.

(_____! I didn’t have the chance to thank you for the bananas and tea this morning!) Kihyun’s text - that he had sent to the group chat - said.

It made you smile a little.

Kihyun: (Thank you as always~)

Hyungwon: (Thank you for always taking care of us~)

Jooheon: (We don’t deserve you, honestly ><)

Hyunwoo: (You’re such an angel, I sometimes feel sorry for you since you’re always surrounded by trolls like us)

Changkyun: (Our one and only savior!)

Hoseok: (I feel like we would not be alive without you)

Hyungwon: (I know, right?)

“These dorks…” you smiled at the texts.

The six of them were such dorks that you usually had a hard time believing that they were all gang members. They had the ability to cheer you up and they always had your back. You considered them your friends.

(I’m glad you all feel that way) you texted them, still smiling a little.

Your smile faded away when you heard the door of your apartment being opened and closed soon after.

He’s home…

You put your phone down and got up from the bed before grabbing your dressing gown - that Minhyuk had bought you for your latest birthday - and putting it on. You slowly opened the door of the bedroom and stepped out in to the living room. Quietly, you walked to the dark hallway and stopped when you saw Minhyuk standing there.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly.

You didn’t respond and just looked at him. He took off his shoes and walked over to you.

“Aren’t you cold?” he glanced at you and asked, his voice still quiet. He grabbed the sides of your gown and calmly tied the ribbon around the gown after bringing the sides together.

After doing that he glanced at your face and walked past you in to the kitchen. You followed him.

“Were you sleeping already?” he asked when you stopped in the doorway.

You just shook your head slightly.

“I see…” he quietly said and took out a glass and filled it with water before gulping it all down.

You observed his face. He didn’t have any more bruises and it didn’t look like he had been fighting. It also didn’t seem like he had been partying since he didn’t look drunk.

“You can go back to bed,” he said. “I’ll just sleep on the sofa tonight.”

Hearing him say that made your heart ache and you lowered your gaze. You didn’t want him to sleep on the sofa but you didn’t want to say it out loud. So, you just nodded a little and turned around before making your way back to the empty bedroom.

***

You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t even close your eyes. It was the empty spot beside you that kept you awake. You didn’t know for sure but it was well past midnight by now judging from how long you had been rolling around the sheets, trying to find a comfortable position. It had probably been some four hours since you had returned to the bedroom.

Minhyuk’s probably already asleep…

You didn’t think much about it when you sat up in the bed and soon after got up. You once again grabbed your dressing gown and slowly walked to the door. You opened it quietly and expected to see Minhyuk fast asleep on the sofa. He wasn’t though, he was sitting on it, his face buried in his hands.

“You’re still awake?” he asked, surprised, when he noticed you.

You just walked over to him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his sweet voice causing a lump to form in your throat.

You just looked at him. His expression was slightly worried but his eyes were filled with warmth.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” you asked, your voice as quiet as a whisper.

He nodded and you sat down on the small table in front of the sofa. You were now sitting right in front of him, a little higher than him.

“My heart keeps aching,” you mumbled quietly and looked at your lap.

He looked at you apologetically.

“I’m sad, Minhyuk…” you continued.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

You tried to swallow down the lump in your throat that was starting to get more painful.

“I know you are suffering from this relationship. I know it hurts you when I fight,” he said and placed his warm hand on your thigh. “I know you’re in pain and honestly… I feel so angry at myself for not being able to ease your pain.”

You looked at him.

“I know you want me to stop fighting but I can’t. I’m a gang member, _____. You knew what you were getting in to when you accepted to date me. You always knew that this is what it would be like.”

Even though you didn’t like it, he was right.

“I’d love to stop just to make you feel better but it’s not possible. I can’t do it. Not even for you even though you are the most important thing in my life.”

You lowered your gaze once again.

“That’s why there is only one way I can ease your pain. I don’t want to but if it makes you feel better, we can break up.”

It was like someone had just stabbed your heart.

“Break up?” you repeated and looked at him.

“I love you,” he whispered and cupped your cheek with his hand. “I don’t want to force you to stay with me. I want you to be happy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “But I am happy,” you said while your eyes filled with tears.

“______-“

“I don’t want to break up,” you fell on your knees to the floor and leaned forward to wrap your arms around his waist. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll stop complaining. I’ll stop whining so please…”

“______...”

There was a silence during which you started crying. The thought of breaking up with him was too painful. You didn’t want to do it. You loved him too much.

“I love you…” you said between your sobs.

His hands gently landed on your head. He ran his fingers through your hair and after a bit he pushed you away. You looked at him, your eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry,” he said, looking at you apologetically. “Please don’t be sad…”

“How can I not when you’re about to leave me?” you sobbed.

“I won’t so please, stop crying baby,” he cupped your face with his hands and wiped your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you too.”

You looked at him. It almost looked like his eyes were wet with tears.

“I love you so much,” he whispered and leaned down to press a kiss on your lips. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said after pulling away.

“Breaking up will hurt me a lot more than staying together,” you quietly said.

He looked at you and caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Thank you. I don’t know if I would have survived the break up. Let’s go to bed now, huh?”

You nodded and he helped you up from the floor. He led you in to the bedroom and you two got in to bed. Once you were under the thick blanket, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. The emptiness inside you was gone and the bed didn’t feel as empty anymore either.

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reactingtosomething · 7 years ago

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“I’ll Stop You Forever”: Stakes and Villain Deaths in SUPERGIRL and MAN OF STEEL

The Setup: Kris here. It’s been awhile since our last essay, and I’ve actually had this in a folder on my desktop for months.

This is not a case for or against the storytelling decision to have any particular Super-character kill any particular villain (and I probably like Man of Steel more than you do). This is, rather, at least a partial explanation for how Supergirl executed that decision more effectively than MoS did, and maybe a Screenwriting 101 lesson for those interested in that sort of thing.

For much of its duration, Supergirl’s second season finale “Nevertheless, She Persisted” seems to deliberately echo beats from the climax of Man of Steel, in which Superman infamously snaps Zod’s neck after crashing through many skyscrapers presumably full of civilians. At the start of Supergirl’s “Nevertheless,” Superman has been deceived into thinking that his cousin Kara, aka Supergirl, is in fact Zod. The Superman of this story has apparently faced Zod many times before, and says that this time, “I’ll stop you forever.” The Kryptonian cousins do crash into skyscrapers, but even as Superman seems to be using lethal force against “Zod,” there’s a moment when he goes out of his way to take the fight far from innocent bystanders. And ultimately, Kara is able to knock out her more famous cousin.

This dual beat — Superman saving a cornered family (as in Man of Steel) by flying “Zod” away (unlike in Man of Steel), and Supergirl ending the battle non-lethally — seems like a pretty straightforward rebuke. The analogy is almost too easy: the show, like its heroine, is an idealistically hopeful foil to a grimmer elder cousin. The end of the episode (and the season) may then come as a surprise: Supergirl stops an alien invasion not by finding an inspiring alternative to bloodshed, but by killing her nemesis — with a weapon devised by xenophobic Lex Luthor, no less.

This ending did not, as far as I can tell, provoke a “not my Supergirl” response along the lines of the backlash to Man of Steel. As one of the relative few who mostly love Man of Steel, I find this discrepancy a little annoying. On an big-picture philosophical level, I’m not convinced of a morally significant difference between the two resolutions. But on a more subjective storytelling level, there’s a simple explanation for why the Supergirl finale was better received: the emotional cost on Kara of the decision to kill is much, much better established.

The climax of “Nevertheless, She Persisted” is a duel between Supergirl and the queen of the invaders, Rhea of Daxam. Rhea agrees that if she loses, she’ll call off her fleet and leave the Earth in peace. Supergirl’s insurance policy is a bomb — conceived by Lex Luthor but perfected and modified by his virtuous sister Lena — that will disperse lead dust throughout the atmosphere, lead being as toxic to Daxamites as kryptonite is to the Supers.

When presented with this weapon, Supergirl hesitates not primarily for ethics-of-war reasons (and to be fair the goal is to force a retreat, not to commit genocide), but because her love interest, Mon-El, is himself a Daxamite, son of Rhea. The relationship arc had a rocky start and a deeply frustrating middle, but the writers eventually figured how to make the most of Mon-El, who gave up his royal title and became a loyal and respectful partner to Kara. Maybe more importantly, 20 episodes or so is a long time to spend with a character, and whether the episodes or good or bad, sticking with a character that long is likely to breed audience attachment. And in “Nevertheless,” once Superman is back in his right mind and visiting the heroes’ base, he skips right over any Overprotective Male Relative clichés to simply say that if Kara likes Mon-El, he “must be a good guy.”

Before the duel with Rhea, Supergirl tells her allies that they won’t need the lead bomb. She’s going to win. The principle of Chekhov’s Gun notwithstanding, we’ve seen Supergirl pull off the impossible before, and even Superman doesn’t doubt her for a second. We’re also primed to assume that because the previous episode’s main conflict involved Kara rescuing Mon-El from near-certain death, he’s safe from any real danger in this episode. He even gets a showy but low-stakes fight scene as a grace note for the central duel, as Superman and the Martian Manhunter do. Plus of course it’s the season finale, on a broadcast network superhero show with a young-skewing audience. It’s not unreasonable to expect a happy ending.

So when Rhea goes back on her word mid-duel and — having already weakened Supergirl with kryptonite — unleashes her fleet on National City, we’re almost as blind-sided as Kara is by the realization that she’s out of good options. She has to use the bomb. Which means Mon-El has to leave Earth, forever.

It’s a bitter pill given the final stretch of the season: Mon-El finally figured out how to be a good boyfriend! He stepped out from his murderous mother’s shadow! He had some charming scenes with fan-favorite Lena Luthor! He fought to protect humanity! Doesn’t he deserve a win?

And doesn’t Kara, who loves him? Yes. But she does the right thing, the hard thing, and gives up love to save the world. In this context, Rhea’s death is practically an afterthought (to a fault, arguably, in terms of that scene’s dialogue and direction). Rather than dwell on it, we instead empathize with Kara’s grief over the end of a relationship she’s fought hard for, and admire her for putting the greater good over her personal happiness.

By contrast, in Man of Steel, Lois and our other Daily Planet POV characters are well out of harm’s way when Superman and Zod’s brawl gets going, we haven’t gotten to know Metropolis in a way that invests us emotionally in its survival or destruction, and Zod gets more character development in the movie than probably anyone but Superman himself. He also gets the closest thing to an arc within the fight itself, monologuing about losing his life’s purpose and proving that he’s mastered his new powers faster than longtime Earth resident Superman did. He’s by far the most interesting element of the final set piece, and in theory, this should give the fight some emotional stakes.

But Superman barely knows Zod. So while — unlike Kara — he screams in frustration and (presumably) grief over having to kill the last link to his homeworld, the moment doesn’t land as powerfully as it should. And maybe ironically, because Man of Steel hasn’t established like Supergirl that its hero is confident of finding a Better Way to win the day, it’s unable to mine the moral compromise of killing for the pathos of a specific subverted expectation.

Obviously, a full season of network TV provides a lot more space for establishing emotional stakes than a feature does. But if you’re writing a feature, you know that going in, so the point stands: Make sure not only that you know what your protagonist most desires and/or treasures, but also that it’s fleshed out at every possible moment and in play up until the very end, so that the biggest emotional beats hinge on whether or not your protagonist gets what they want. This is one of those Screenwriting 101 things that’s easier to say and even to memorize than it is to do. But when you get it really right, like Supergirl did this season, you can be forgiven for a lot. And if you get it really wrong, like many maintain Man of Steel did, it may overshadow everything you got right.

If you want more Supergirl thoughts, here are our Reactions to “Resist” and “Nevertheless, She Persisted.”

#Supergirl #Man of Steel #Karamel #Kara Zor-El #Superman #screenwriting #superheroes #TV #Kris #essay #reaction

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cottoncandylesbo · 7 years ago

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here’s pearlmethyst

there’s not much fluff but it’s there. i tried to make it not just a generic “they kissed and hugged because they’re pure uwu” fic im gonna put a readmore because its really really long

Amethyst walked through the entrance of the Crystal Gems’ wooden house. Ramshackle as it was, she felt comfortable and safe within its warm walls. She smiled to herself as she looked to her left at the coffee table in front of the couch, still messy with scattered board game pieces from game nights that got a little too heated. She continued to the circular room that held the warp pad, where she would have walked past if Pearl had not returned to the house using the warp at that very moment. “Hey, P!” Amethyst greeted her, surprised at her unexpected but welcomed return. “Oh, hello Amethyst!” Pearl returned. She tucked the crystalline globe that was in her hands under her armpit. “What’s that?” Amethyst questioned, cocking her head to get a better view of the shiny object. “Were you just on a mission?” “Oh, this is an artifact I’d been meaning to retrieve for a while now. It was causing problems for some humans in another town so I thought I might as well…” She trailed off, eyes drifting off in memory of the task she had completed. “Whoa! What does it do?” Amethyst asked, drawing closer to the orb and staring at its multicolored reflective surface. “Ah- well- it’s dangerous, so I’d rather get it bubbled quickly before anything-” but she was cut off when Amethyst grabbed it from her lazed grasp. “It’s so pretty, Pearl! Is there a gem in here?” She continued to stare at its surface as she shook it roughly and listened for any sound. “Amethyst, no! Please be gentle with it, it’s powerful and unstable! I don’t really know what it can do!” She reached her hands out but kept them a small distance back, nervous to touch the rainbow sphere. “Alright, sorry P.” Amethyst said, snapping out of her distracted staring. “I don’t wanna make you worried. Here, you can have it back.” She held out the artifact to Pearl and looked toward the floor. “Oh, thank you Amethyst.” Pearl reached out to grab hold of the orb, but when she laid hands on it, it began to emit a faint but steadily brightening glow. Soon, it rose out of either of the gems’ hands into the air, and began to take form. Bright white appendages grew from all sides of the glowing sphere, glowing brightly. As time progressed, the limbs took shape as hands, legs, and even a beak. The creature that was forming itself from the strange object was rapidly gaining shape and soon stopped glowing as it landed on the wooden floor of the temple with a loud THUD. Now that it was no longer in a light form, its appearance was much more visible. It was a large and furry quadruped with two long and muscular arms extending from where the beak was also placed. However, there was no body mass connecting the creature’s head to its rear- instead, the large orb held it together. The creature’s legs were large, bulky, and ended each with clawed paws. Its whole body was many different shifting pastel colors which became more gray further down its legs until its feet were wholly black. The creature’s head was totally covered in shaggy and matted fur, so much so that no eyes were visible, but the arms that protruded from either side of the monster’s huge seagull-esq beak were not restricted by the heavy fur. The newly formed beast stretched its appendages and shook its fur. Then, noticing Amethyst and Pearl standing in front of it, it took a step back. Then two, three, slowly backing itself deeper into the warp pad room until it was just in front of the gem rooms’ door. Simultaneously realizing both that it was out of room and that Pearl was the same gem to dispel it before, it took a more defensive stance. It spread its legs out and huffed its chest, growling deep and loud. “Pearl, what IS that thing?! A gem?” Amethyst asked, drawing two thorny whips from the now glowing gem in her chest. “I… I don’t know!” Pearl stammered. “It didn’t look like that when I defeated it last time!” “Augh, this is all my fault!” Amethyst half-shouted, tightening her grasp on her whips. “This doesn’t matter right now!” Pearl said, also drawing her weapon, a spear, from her gem located on her forehead. “We just need to focus on getting rid of this… thing before Steven gets hurt!” “Yeah. Okay! Let’s do this!” Amethyst yelled, rolling herself into a ball and preparing a charge attack onto the creature. Both gems sprang into action. Pearl used the blunt end of her spear to bat Amethyst, now rolling at high speeds, at the creature. However, it caught Amethyst mid-attack with both of its beefy arms, absorbing the strength and blunt of the charge. It then slammed Amethyst into the floor, making a sizable dent in the stone floor. “Amethyst!” Pearl yelled, then rushed the monster. She drew another spear and attempted a cross slash, jumping into the air and trying to hit from above. The beast also caught her attack with its beak, slamming Pearl on top of Amethyst. “AUGH!” Amethyst grunted, being pushed back onto the floor from the impact. “Ugh… Amethyst, are you ok?” Pearl worried, looking down on Amethyst. “Yeah I’ll be fine, but- WATCH OUT!” She yelled, noticing the beast about to punch both of the gems. She quickly drew her whip, and along with Pearl also drawing her spear, she wrapped the whip around it and drew it back, and then powerfully launched the weapon into the beast’s open beak. Feeling the impact of the attack, the creature halted its attack and unleashed a feral scream. It attempted to cough the spear back out of its mouth, but it was thoroughly stuck. “This is our chance!” Pearl turned to Amethyst, gripping her hands into fists. “Let’s fuse and get rid of this thing once and for all!” “Yeah! Let’s do this!” Amethyst smiled wide and held Pearl’s hand. Pearl then grabbed hold of Amethyst’s other hand and dipped her close to the floor, the both of their forms now glowing bright white and morphing together. Then, the white mass took shape as Opal stood. “It’s been far too long. You both know that.” Opal remarked to herself, summoning both Amethyst’s whip and Pearl’s spear and shaping them together into an elegant longbow. “Now it’s time to take care of this mess.” She said, drawing the bow’s string and aiming it at the creature which was striking the floor with one of its back feet. As it started to charge at Opal, she squinted in one eye and launched the glimmering arrow straight through the open mouth of the beast. It pierced the front end of the monster and struck the gem in its middle, causing a very bright flash of light. Then, the monster’s form froze and shook. Opal still held onto her bow, the creature’s body disappeared in a puff of white smoke. The rainbow sphere fell onto the floor with a loud clunk. Opal smiled, dispelled the bow, and then released herself back into Amethyst and Pearl. The two walked up to the orb, then bubbled it together. They then sent it deep into the temple and looked at each other. “We make a good team, huh P?” Amethyst sighed, turning to look at Pearl. “Yes. We really should spend more time together.” She chucked, and returned Amethyst’s gaze. She blushed. “I… I’m really glad I have you. I love you, Pearl.” Amethyst looked at the floor and rubbed her arm. Her face was dark with flush. “Amethyst…!” Pearl was surprised of Amethyst’s choice of words. Her eyes widened. Amethyst said nothing and continued to look at the floor. Her stomach was twisting into knots and her face felt ablaze. “I.. Oh, come here!” Pearl said, and drew her into a passionate kiss. Amethyst was shocked at first, but relaxed and put her hands on pearl’s hips and returned. They embraced and felt each other’s warmth as they finished their kiss but held on to each other. Neither could speak- there were no words to express the pure bliss of finally being able to express their pent-up love. Finally, they each took a step back and grinned sheepishly. “Let’s hope Steven won’t mind seeing Opal around some more, huh?” Amethyst chuckled. “Oh, what ever.” Pearl laughed. “I love you too, Amethyst.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thank you for reading. I know it’s long but I didn’t wanna skim over the fight scene. If you liked it, feel free to reblog and share! If this is popular I might write more :o

#amethyst #body horror /#fanfic #fic #gay #lesbian #lgbt #opal #pearl #pearlmethyst #queue #shipping #weapons //#the lesbo agenda

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pokeasleepingsmaug · 7 years ago

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Ironside and Spell-weaver: Chapter 2

I tried to write an Ivar as a kelpie piece, but it just wasn’t working the way I wanted it to. Instead I decided to revisit my first ever Vikings fic and write a chapter 2 for it, I started it way back before Ivar took over my life haha. A slow burn Bjorn fic, since the sagas and history have no mention of Bjorn’s wife, and yet he’s the founder of a dynasty. And what makes him so untouchable, anyway?

But side note, it sucks because I don’t usually do first person, so this is more of an exercise for me to grow as a writer. I’m posting it because I’ve been pretty absent lately and I just really miss writing, and this is really all I’ve written lately.

AO3:http://archiveofourown.org/works/10534929/chapters/25019625

I jerked awake sometime later, heart pounding. I lay on a low pallet covered in furs, one of them pulled up around my shoulders. They weren't mine—they smelled of battle, the fearful sweat of men and horses, the iron tang of blood wiped hastily away. I drew a deep breath, hoping to calm myself, and opened my eyes.

I was in a tent, and no light shone from outside, so it must have been full darkness by now. The remains of a small fire glowed orange in the middle of the tent, weapons and a shield stacked carefully by the entrance flap. A powerfully built man sat by the fire, shoulders hunched. A knife glinted in one hand, and I strained to hear the soft scrape of the knife against the wood in his other hand. I sat, clearing my throat, and he straightened. “You're awake. I brought you to my tent to keep an eye on you.” His dark blue eyes appraised me, curious. “You gave my brothers and I quite a scare.” His voice was quiet.

I finally found my voice, shrugging, “It is nothing, it only happens sometimes when the magic is too strong. Blood-magic does it especially quickly. It is the price we sorceresses pay for the favor of the gods.” I stretched slowly, feeling his eyes on me still. “How long was I asleep?”

He chuckled lightly. “Well, if you didn't wake up soon, I was going to try to rouse you. We march in about an hour. I had your belongings brought,” he jerked his chin to a bundle beside his stacked weapons. “I thought you might want to freshen up. I have some water heated in the kettle near the fire, and I will leave. I have matters to attend to.”

“Thank you, my lord, and sorry to keep you from your bed,” I stammered, awkward and embarrassed. He shrugged his powerful shoulders, smiling easily at me.

“Do not trouble yourself. I will come to fetch you before we leave.” He stood and ducked through the entrance flap of the tent, leaving me alone. I rose from the pile of furs, shivering lightly in the chill of the late summer predawn. I found the warm water and a clean rag, and quickly washed myself. I pulled the tangles out of my hair with my fingers and hastily rebraided it over one shoulder. I looked down and inspected my clothes. I wore a simple tunic and leather breeches, easy clothes for traveling and much more durable than a dress. They didn't seem too dirty, and due to the scarcity of time for washing clothes while marching with an army, I decided to wear them for another day. Hopefully I would have time to wash them tonight.

I sat by the fire and held my cold hands over it, my grumbling stomach reminding me that I had passed out before I had the chance to eat dinner. I sat in silence for a few more minutes until I heard a voice calling me from outside. I quickly ducked through the tent flap, and found a grinning Bjorn waiting for me. He held the reins of a small bay horse, and he held them out to me with a flourish. “We captured this mare yesterday from the Saxons, and my brothers and I have decided to give her to you for your help in that victory. Also,” he reached into a pouch at his waist, and held out a hunk of crusty bread and a piece of cheese. “you need to eat.”

My mouth watered at the thought, and I took the food gratefully. “Thank you, my lord,” I let out between ravenous bites. He laughed, filling me with warmth, and I smiled shyly back.

“What will you name her?”

I tilted my head, seriously considering the question, as I finished my breakfast. “Victory,” I told him. He smiled, and cupped his hands to boost me into her saddle. He rested his hand lightly on my thigh as I settled on her back, and he nodded in approval as he looked up at me, withdrawing his hand suddenly.

“She was surely crafted for you,” he told me gruffly. And he whirled away to join his brothers without another word.

...

I had ridden by myself for most of the day, trailing behind and to the side of the army. We moved swiftly, and I had barely gathered a handful of henbane by the time we stopped to make a hasty camp. I left Victory tethered near a group of other horses, and was about to slip away to look for more herbs when I heard a voice hailing me. I cursed internally, sighing, and found myself face to face with Bjorn and his brother, Sigurd.

Sigurd led a nervous, sweating horse, the whites of his eyes rolling. I inclined my head slightly. “My lords, how may I be of service?” My gaze traveled between the brothers, and as my eyes met Sigurd's, I felt the familiar pull of magic in the pit of my stomach. He was a man born of a volva, the strangeness in his eye marking him as powerful. Had he been born a woman, he undoubtedly would have followed in his mother's footsteps.

“My horse is lame,” Sigurd explained. “Do you have healing skill?”

“Some, but a farrier would be a better one to tend an ailing horse.” I sighed, crossing my arms. “But I will try, since the magic of your mother is what brought you to seek me out. Though you try, you cannot always resist its pull.” I smiled at the startled look on his face.

Bjorn laughed, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Not every man can be born of a shieldmaiden,” he teased lightly. The remark stung more than it should have. I tried my best to ignore it, stepping forward and reaching a hand to soothe the nervous horse. I bent and examined his long legs, running my hands down them to check for heat and swelling. I found it on his left foreleg, just above the hoof. “Here. He has a pocket of infection. I can fix this.”

I went to my nearby pack, looking carefully for the right herbs, my wooden mixing bowl, and my small dagger. I found what I needed, scooped up some dirt in my bowl, and added water. I crushed the dried herbs between my fingers, their musty, sweet scent tickling my nose, and I mixed the thick mud together into a poultice. I set the mixture down and picked up the knife. “Both of you should probably hold him for this. He won't like it.”

Sigurd eyed the knife, the red glint of fading sun along its edge, and looked like he was about to protest. I sent him my best glare, and he seemed to think better of it. At least one of the Ragnarssons knew when to keep his mouth shut.

I knelt and prodded gently at the leg, searching for the exact spot of the infected pocket. My fingers found it after a few moments, and I drew the small knife in a quick slash over it. The skin broke beneath the point, and the stallion screamed in anger. I jumped back quickly, expecting him to lash out but he did no such thing, only trembled. Murmuring soothing nonsense, I bent quickly back to my work and squeezed around the cut. Thick yellow pus oozed out, tinged pink with blood and smelling putrid. I wrinkled my nose, but kept on until the pus stopped coming. I quickly slathered the poultice over the wound. The sweet herbs would draw out any remaining infection, and I wrapped a mostly clean bandage around it.

I stood, wiping my dirty hands on my breeches. I felt like nothing I owned was clean, except my beautiful staff. It gleamed, wiped with a soft cloth every night and oiled every few days. “He will be fine, just don't ride him for a few days. Lead him beside you, or put him with the packhorses.”

“Can't you keep an eye on him, Alfhild? He is in under your care now, after all,” Sigurd wheedled. I sighed, eyeing the horse apprehensively, and nodded shortly. Who was I to go against the wishes of princes? Sigurd handed me the reins, thanking me. “He will not interfere with your plans tonight, I hope?”

“And if he did, would it change your mind, my lord?” I rolled my eyes, already knowing the answer. “I have to weave some protection charms for you and your brothers tonight, but he should be little trouble.”

“That horse is a beast,” Bjorn warned. “His name is Hrafn.” I tied the stallion next to my grazing mare, glaring darkly at him.

“If he harms my mare, his name will be Sacrifice,” I answered. Bjorn laughed, even white teeth flashing in the twilight.

“Do not bother making a protection charm for Ironside here,” Sigurd teased. “He is already invincible.”

“If I am so untouchable, brother, how is it that I have so many scars? Maybe the snake in your eye interferes with your vision.” Bjorn teased, a warning note running under the light tone. Apparently his nickname—or its apparent untruthfulness—was a raw nerve for the eldest prince.

“Perhaps I shall make his charm first,” I countered.

“But he is already untouchable!” Sigurd protested.

“And what if your untouchable Ironsides is killed? What would your enemies say then?” I challenged. I could not tell them the real reason my fingers itched to weave his charm, the reason that brought me to the Saxon land in the first place.

Sigurd seemed to consider this, then nodded. “I suppose you are right.”

Bjorn squinted off toward the horizon, jerking his head toward the front of the army. “We should go. We have plans to discuss with our brothers. Good night, Alfhild.” And scarcely bothering to spare me a glance, the sons of Ragnar walked off. I eyed the grazing black stallion, mentally kicking myself. As if I didn't have enough to worry about, I had to go and get stuck with an extra horse.

#bjorn ironside fic #vikings fanfiction #bjorn x oc #slow burn #bjorn x alfhild #ivar was just too much for me today

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iluvtv · 6 years ago

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Thank you, it’s my attitude that keeps me young...

Processing Russian Doll has not been easy. It took a week and a full rewatch for me to even begin to touch this beautiful program’s intricacies through type. The iterations and research I prepared for this post have been almost as vast and extensive as the show itself. Nearly a month later I decided to save the diatribes for casual conversation. Theories on how the show is a study of the Jewish allegory of Dybbuk or that the loss of characters throughout each life is mirroring the constant death of video game culture can surely be found elsewhere. Instead, I share a version of the draft I started jotting during my rewatch of this beautifully complicated story while sitting on the couch next to my own Mother, both of us quietly reckoning with the histories which brought us to that shared moment.

Writing, like experience, is a process. For many, this show has brought on personal reflections of their own existential crisis. Presently, a communal and varied reception is floating through our technological ether, acting as intellectual interpretations of such.

And so, in an unusual act of rebellion, I will let my work here act as nothing more than an experiment in my strange and frequently limited relationship with emotions. An armored sort of void that is not without its own challenges.

Like Nadia I sometimes might be written off as the abyss.

And yet neither of us are enthusiastic about or entirely unharmed by such descriptions.

I have no illusions of blowing any minds here with an overtly innovative (though so often it feels that way to me) analysis of Russian Doll, and if you want to avoid spoilers perhaps just stop now (though nothing I say here would ruin your own experience with the show). However, if you want to go exploring through some proverbial baggage with me — I have just too many thoughts, tangents and feels not to write anything at all...

But first:

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

I am at once moved, inspired, shaken and totally stunted. The vast creativity in writing and performance and imagery and music within these eight 24-minute episodes could debilitate many an artist. It's so easy here to rationalize giving up. There is no way I could ever create something as powerfully moving and detailed as Russian Doll.

This speaks to the intense fragility (so rarely acknowledged) which Headland, Lyonne and Poehler’s creation has provoked within.

This show, like it’s namesake which holds infinite women inside one another, is an onion. It can be peeled endlessly away— there is no core. The similes housed are so nuanced that solving them all would be a luxurious and laborious service. An intellectual’s ideal wank. Something future generations may hang their Philosophy dissertations on; much like the very pretentious characters which this show so cleverly mocks.

How very unusual, a narrative with notably distinct translations identifiable to everyone from the now aging homeless advocate of New York City in the 90’s to the Jewish millennial living in San Francisco currently participating in gentrification, to the middle-aged dad who never quite got over his suicidal tendencies, to the gamers and engineers entirely distracted with code. It is a glorious conglomeration of our own narcissism and the show’s creative genius which will allow us all to see ourselves here.

Twitter threads and articles debating such translations could distract our own heart for hours. In the end, though it is compassion which will leave room for growth and learning. In time we will not just slice the orange in half and find the ripeness in the fourth dimension but we will also discover another layer, or perhaps metaphors even the creators missed.

In part isn’t this some of the beauty of an increased number of minorities (ahem women) making art reaching the mainstream? The long-whispered narratives of silenced humans have become far more infinite and intricate than the stories we have heard before.

One might argue that the very notion that Nadia’s misfortune is provoked because she is “bad” defies a complex yet deeply scientific female perspective. It seems rational that a writer's room compiled exclusively of women would have enough experience in niceties to understand that no experience or person is entirely one thing. It is empathy whicxh allows us to view the sum of one’s parts. It is humanity which allows us all to persevere, coexist and most importantly notice that others are just doing the same.

And so there are moments in Russian Doll which speak to me so precisely.

The show’s playful exploration into Jewish Mysticism, which I once studied so diligently.

Nadia’s food choices, which I consistently noted before the subtle stitch of their relevance became obvious threads of the tapestry of her stories. The cottage cheese and roast chicken which is so spot on and terribly, neurotically Jewish. The fact that I noted her breakfast of cut watermelon in episode two as though it were a plot point -- which it did eventually become. My takeaways here so painfully reflect my own layered and tumultuous relationship with my body and moreover nourishment.

Nadia’s penchant for drugs and the ability to maintain her relationship to artificial mood enhancements. Through my lens of a similarly uncomplicated love affair with inebriation, I can’t help but find this characteristic terribly charming.

And oddly enough, Nadia’s clear choice of Emily over Anne. This one is tricky as I have zero memory of reading Emily of New Moon and yet I clearly remember loving it while Anne of Green Gables bored me. I know this sounds contrived but my mother concurred: I was a girl who loved Emily; couldn’t be bothered with Anne.

Then there are the less overt parts of Nadia. The painful side effects of what can be more easily spelled out. These are the elements of self I skip over (as did Nadia presumably) the histories of abuse and dysfunction, the draw towards said abyss and the imaginary, the solitude. Here we have a vibrant woman, unabashedly possessing an immodest thirst for life — an extrovert essentially, who somehow manages to remain on the peripheries. Again, this would be a perfectly apt way to describe me. Through silly, fun, terrifying, real and completely magical events however, Nadia is forced to reckon with both her past (and future) and come to terms with relativity.

I mean life is relative, right?

Watching all this forced a reckoning of my own.

People fade, plants and animals die, fruit rots and all the while Nadia battles with the existentialism turning 36 inevitably breeds.

(Speaking of invoked narcissisms I have for years threatened to throw myself an “I still haven’t gotten married or had kids so you never had to go to a bunch of bullshit showers but I’m going to have a huge double chai blowout” of my own. As the time approaches (14 months) this seems increasingly unlikely but the relevance of this age was definitely not lost on me).

Through all this sadness it is the small acts of kindness which somehow makes everything all right again and again. Very subtle pieces of humanity perpetuate life.

Relatively speaking.

Compassionate and honest interaction essentially induces a continued existence.

Alan says, “Our bodies can’t keep lying the way that our minds can”

And when Ruth mentions she heard the author of Emily of New Moon is haunting a house rather than the more familiar trope of Lucy Maud Montogomery’s suicide this makes me think the show is so much more about how you survive and persevere than how you fade.

As I slowly worked through these episodes (the first time) I wished hard that this show would offer hope and eventually it did just that.

But boy did it put me through the wringer through the process.

#dybbuk #russian doll #natasha lyonne #amy poehler #leslye headland #jewish fod #hey alma

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