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watsittoyah · 10 months

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Before The Snow, Came The Flame…

Young!Coriolanus snow x blk fem!reader

Theme: Morally gray themes, talks of suicide, heavy sexual content. Possessive/Obsessive behavior. This is pure fiction and should only be consumed as such…

Chapter 00 Just Say Yes…

(Sexual Act 1- Oral sex, and breathe play )

Evangeline-

I’ve always hated the snow, because when snow comes, that means death to nature. The pretty flowers wither away, the warm air turns cold and crisp, and the animals become scarce. But the one thing I hate the most about snow is when it falls it brings death to the living.

“Do you think they’ll find out about us still existing? The Capital, I mean.” Johnathan my half-brother asks me as we trek across the frosted ground. “It’s been what ten years? I highly doubt anyone other than Nana-Bee remembers. Besides don’t you think they would’ve came for us by now?” I tell him as I lift a thick branch, letting him pass. I soon after follow and I see some pine cones. I gather them and hear Johnathan give a sigh.

“I guess you’re right. And it is for the best that no one knows. It’s already sad that we can’t walk around without people staring. But you’re lucky Evangeline. Your eyes are only yellow sometimes. I wish I could do that.” I ruffle his curly hair and give a laugh. “Nana-Bee taught me. I’m sure she’ll teach you when you’re older.” He rolls his golden eyes at me and as I’m sure he’s about to give me some snarky remark on why our great-great grandmama won’t be teaching him color changing, we hear a loud-

Snap!

We immediately freeze in place. I sign to him to hide but he shakes his head and signs back that he’s not leaving me.

As much as I love this kid, I’m sure he’s going to get me killed one day. I go to sign something else but I see something in the distance and I yank Jonathan down just in time to feel something whiz past my ear. The tree explodes into small splinters.

“Suis-moi.” I order him. He follows me without hesitation as we stay low.

I feel my heart pounding in my throat all because our father had warned us to keep watch for outsiders. Whether they were Peace Keepers or just people from surround districts. If they see us, they will take us and sell us to the capital.

Even though our existence is close to a secret now, there are still older people who remember us. Children of fire, is what they’d call us now, which is a better name than being called Morningstar children.

Another bullet whizzes past my head but unluckily for Johnathan it hits him in the shoulder.

I go to help him but he pushes me back and hisses for me to hide. “N-“ A gun sounds off and I just throw myself up into a near by tree. I use the leaves to keep me hidden and watch over Jonathan as he writhes in pain.

“It’s not a deer! It’s a…kid?” A large lunk of a man looks at my brother and he knees down. “Geez sorry kid, but wait wasn’t there two of you?” The man looks up into the trees and Johnathan bites the man on the ankle.

He lets out a yelp and he takes the butt of his gun and hits my brother in his face which makes the flames in my fingertips ignite.

I leap out of the tree and when I land, I push him hard into the ground and I grab at his face. He yells as I start to dig my nails into his eyes. “Evangeline, let him go.” I hear Jonathan hiss as he yanks at my blouse. “I’ll go when he’s dead!” I snap at him.

“You crazy bitch!” The man yells and with a swift punch I hit in his nose. He goes limp for a second and I get up feeling my hands getting hot.

“Evangeline calm down, please. We need to go.” He yanks at me again and as we start to run, a strong grip yanks me down. “Eva-” I push Jonathan forward and yell for him to run. I see the hesitation for a split second but he doesn’t what he’s told. He has an injury he needs to take care of.

The man yanks me down and I hit the ground hard. He looks down at me with such hate in his eyes and I smirk at him. “Fuck y-” I feel his boot hit the side of my head hard and I soon feel the darkness take over.

Coriolanus-

“Hey! I got something!” Bugs and I turn back around and head towards Duke, who had a body slung over his shoulder. Which was odd because he said that he was chasing after a deer.

He has turned and we saw that it was a woman. Her black locs were long and covering her face. However there was a long white stripe in the tangled mass of black.

“Why do you have an unconscious girl with you?” Bugs asks as Duke puts the passed out girl down and cuffs her wrists as well as put a blind fold over her eyes.

“At first I thought her and that fucking kid she was with were animals just by how they were moving. But that’s my fault from the stories my great grandparents told me, I should have known they were Morningstar children.” I give Bugs a look and he shrugs. “I don’t know Coryo.”

Duke throws his hands in the air in frustration. “Don’t tell me you never heard of Morningstar children.”

“No, what the hell are you talking about?” I ask feeling annoyed as I eyed the unconscious girl. “My great grandparents told me about these people. They’re demons in human form. They can set a flame to anything even ash. However if you were to capture one them, they can grant you the key to heaven. So that even if you were the greatest sinner, when you die you will still make it to the pearly gates. But you have to make them give their loyalty to you or else they will turn on you like a rabid dog.”

“Wait, how is she…a demon in human form she looks like a regular girl to me.” Bugs asks as he kneels close to her. Duke yanks him away from her.

“There are a few signs, if it’s a woman, they have a bewitching scent that makes men turn lustful.”

“That sounds like shit.” I interrupt. Duke just waves me off. “But all of them, they have this hair as black as night and a singular while strand of hair. It’s like their birthmark. But the number one thing that gives them away are the various color of yellow in their eyes. They say when you look at them you can see the pits of hell in them.” I look over at the girl and notice her breathing is steady.

To the untrained you’d think she was sleeping but I know better. She’s pretending. I use to do that as a child when I didn’t want to go to bed but my parents had checked to make sure I was asleep. I keep my eyes trained on her as I hear Duke and Bugs bickering.

“It all sounds like a bunch of bullshit. Besides this girl has a family that’s going to come looking for her. Just let her go and we can pretend that we never seen her.” Bugs says as he walks over towards the girl.

Duke side steps him, blocking his path. “Do you not understand what we have here? We have the key to damnation. I know someone in the capital would pay big bucks for her. I’m not giving her back.”

“Duke you sound so idiotic. Coryo, please talk some sense into him. This girl needs to go hom-” I raise a hand and see the girl stir.

“What’s wrong?” Bugs asks as he walks over. Instead of answering I reach over her but Duke yanks my arm back. I send a glare his way and his grip loosens on my arm. I then remove the blindfold from her face and I lock onto a pair a dark brown eyes. They looked wild, angry and beautiful all at the same time.

When she locked her eyes onto me I kneeled there in front of her frozen. Because I was captivated by her. If she had a proper bath and clothes, she’d be more beautiful than any rose I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

When she speaks, I can hear an accent that I can’t quite place. “Please let me go, I didn’t do anything.” The girl pleads to us.

“I’m letting her go, her eyes aren’t yellow, she’s just scared.” Bugs went to take the cuff off of her but Duke moved in and grabbed the girl by her face and pinned her to the tree behind her.

“Hey!” Bugs and I both yell in unison. “I know what I saw, and I know what you did. Stop lying! And how did you change the color of your eyes? I saw hell in them! Tell me how, before I snap your neck! Don’t make me look like a liar!” He yelled as his hand squeezes around her throat.

I quickly pick up my gun and I aim it at Duke. Feeling that if I don’t threaten him he might just break her. “Let the girl go or I will make a mess out of you.” I say calmly as I cock the gun. He gives me a glance and smirks.

“I don’t know what witch craft she’s pulling but I’m not letting this golden goose out of my sight. I’ll let her go but she comes with us.”

“Hey if you can prove she’s a Morningstar child or whatever then we will figure something out later but if she’s not one then we need to find her people and give her back. Deal?” Bugs comments trying to de-escalate the whole situation.

Duke lets her throat go and she sucks in a mouth full of air as she collapses onto the ground. “Fine, but I know what I saw.” Duke snaps as he moves back.

I don’t lower the gun until he’s several feet from her. When I see it’s somewhat safe for her, I kneel down in front of her and she jerks back from me. I move the gun and raise my hands to let her know I’m not going to hurt her. “You’re safe, I promise.” She glares past me and I know she’s glaring at Duke.

“What’s your name?” I ask her so she can focus on me. “Evangeline.” She answers as she keeps her eyes on Duke. “Evangeline, hey I will do my best to take care of you while you’re in my care. Duke won’t touch you again. You have my word.” She slowly puts her brown eyes on me and I see a flicker of something.

Gold? Maybe an amber color? The flicker leaves her eyes and all I see is brown.

“I want to go home.” She tells me as her brown eyes stare deep into mine. “You’ll go home soon.” I tell her as I find my hand moving closer to her small brown face.

I move the long white loc out of her eyes and right there in that moment, I knew she was going to be my little rose. She had thorns, that was clear to see but past the danger, there was something more. Something I wanted to…possess.

Evangeline-

Several days later…

The smell of snow was in the air and it was foul. People will tell you it doesn’t have a smell, but they’re lying. It smells overly sweet and it smells like death.

I wonder if Nana-Bee and Papa know that I’m here. Maybe Jonathan told them…

I hope his wounds are healing.

When I get the chance, I’m going to beat Duke’s skull until the bone marrow is not longer recognizable.

I smirk at the thought as I swirl my finger around the ice in my cup. “I wonder if his body will twitch when I do it?” I mutter as I place the cup down and stare at the iron bars of my cell.

I duck my head down as I hear footsteps approaching. “Are you hungry?” I hear a voice call out to me. I lift my head up and my eyes meet a pair of baby blue diamonds. “All depends, can I take that meal to go?” I answer him as I stand on my feet and walk close to the bars. He gives me a gentle smile.

“You know I would let you go in a heartbeat but-”

“But the people here are convinced that I am a peculiar woman. I’ve proven that I’m not. I’ve touched these iron bars, and my skin hasn’t burned. I’ve let my feet touch salt and my soul hasn’t been damned. I’m innocent and you know that Coriolanus.” I tell him. He gives me a stern sigh.

“Duke still isn’t convinced. He still thinks you’re lying.” I throw my hands in the air. “Because of my eyes? My not yellow but boring brown eyes?”

“I don’t think your eyes are boring.” Coriolanus comments making me narrow my eyes at him. “Are you flirting with me, Coriolanus?” He shakes his head and gives me a smirk. “Why would I flirt with a devilish woman such as yourself?”

There it is, the electricity in the air between us. I don’t know when this flirtatious banter had started, maybe on the second day? But I’ve notice the special attention Coriolanus gives me.

He always gives me extra food. He makes sure I get to some time to stretch my legs when no one is looking. To anyone else he would seem endearing.

But his blue eyes hold something cold in them. So I play this game, I let him flirt with me because I do get benefits and it helps that he was cuter than Bugs and way more attractive than Duke.

Funny enough I always like to test my limits with him. Just to see how far he’ll let me go with this little dance.

“How about you let me out of here and I can simply show you what this devilish woman can do.” I say as I trail a finger across my swollen bosom.

His eyes drop down for a second too long and when his eyes travel back to my face he leans in. “How do I know you won’t escape?” He asks in a husky whisper as he reaches up and twirls one of my locs between his fingers.

“You’ll never know until you let me out of this cage.” The corner of his lip quips up and he cocks his head to the side. “I quite like you in the cage. You remind me of this golden flower that my Grandma’am would keep in a vase. It was a beauty but if she lift the glass vase from it, the golden rose would wither away in minutes.”

“So you see me as a weak flower?” He shakes his head. “On the contrary I see you as something precious that needs to be preserved.” I nod and pluck my loc from his touch.

“Funny I just think you like to look at me in this cell so that you know where I am at all times.”

“That is not true. Besides watching someone in a cell is quite boring and reminds me of the games.” He retorts. “I think it wouldn’t be boring to watch me if you had something worth watching.” I say as I take a few steps back and sit down on the stone bench. He studies me as I let a smile dance across my lips.

“Maybe if you got to watch me…satisfy myself.” I tease as I lift my skirt. His gaze was trained on my every move as I raise the skirt past my brown thighs. I run my fingers against my inner thighs and let out a soft moan.

“Am I worth watching now, Coriolanus, darling?” I moan out to him. I watch him lick his bottom lip and see a tent starting to form in his pants.

He leans in closer towards thebars and looks behind himself to make sure no one was there. “You’re going to get me in trouble Evangeline.” He says as he cups himself as he looks back at me. “Then stop watching me. Or try to stay quiet, because I’m going to give you a show.” I slide a two fingers under my panties and I hear him groan as I move my fingers away and show him how slick my fingers are.

“I guess I was wetter than I thought.” I tease as I flick my tongue against my fingers. I can see he wants nothing more than to taste me.

Hell I’m sure if I told him to unlock the cell he would do it without hesitation.

I spread my legs wider and I slide the two digits inside of me, watching him rub himself. “You know you’ll only get in trouble if you get caught in here with me, but I’m sure you wouldn’t care about the punishment as long as you’d get to taste me. Am I right Coriolanus?”

“I would want nothing more than to taste every inch of your body, Evangeline. From head to toe.” I watch him rub himself harder and I close my eyes to enjoy my self pleasure but Coriolanus clears his throat.

“Don’t close those pretty brown eyes. I want them on me when you pleasure yourself. I want to be the only thing you look at when you reach ecstasy.” I let out a groan as I work my fingers on my clit.

He reaches into his pants pocket, surely to get out the keys when we both hear footsteps approaching. I quickly stop and smooth my skirt back down.

Someone clears their throat behind Coriolanus but he doesn’t turn to them. “What?” He says in a tone a little too calm for my liking. “You’re needed in the bunks, Coryo.” They tell him. “I’ll be there. You can go.” The foot steps leave and I give him a sly smile.

“Sorry for interrupting your duties. I’ll behave next time.” He doesn’t return the smile. He just stares at me for a pregnant pause.

“Don’t be sorry, I chose to be here. And I don’t regret it one bit. But I must apologize for the interruption. I have to go. Maybe we can continue this later.” He goes to walk away but I clear my throat, stopping him in his tracks.

“If I’m going to be here for a while, I do hope we get to have some private time together, Coriolanus. There are some…talents I do want to show you, without interruptions.” My eyes flicker to the bugle in his pants and when I look back up I see his blue eyes darken with want.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we have more time when I come to visit you again.” He leaves and I watch him go feeling a bit light headed. I close my eyes for a few minutes and when I open them I let out a breathe. “Evangeline what are you doing?” I ask myself in pure wonder as I look down at my cup of water.

It was after supper time and I was looking at the potato soup as if it were a bomb that would go off at any second. “Nana-Bee’s sunflower stew sounds good about now.” I mutter as I push the bowl away. I nibble on the hard roll and see Sinder, a sweet older lady who was assigned to bring me to the mess room, come right on time.

“Ready?” She asks as she motions me to come to her. I give a slight nod and I go to her, making sure I don’t spook her as she unlocks my cell. “To take a bath like regular folks? Always, Sin.” I give her a kind smile and she returns one back as she escorts me out. As we head down the hall I take a chilled breathe.

“How’s the baby coming along?” I ask Sinder as she leads me further down. She touches her swollen belly then. “He’s coming along nicely. Due in December, so he’ll be a winter baby.”

“That’s nice, make sure when he’s born you bathe him in warm milk so he’ll have warm skin. My Nana-Bee, says it’s nothing worse than having a baby in winter. If they catch the frost they’ll cry and get colic.” I tell her.

“I’ll do just that. Thank you, Evangeline. You know, I don’t believe what they say about you, you’re just different is all.”

I like Sinder, she’s sweet and she makes me feel as if she could be my sister if circumstances were different.

She brings me to the baths and she turns around to give me some privacy as I strip off my clothes and ease my body into the luke warm water. “Evangeline, can I ask something of you?” Sinder asks as she picks up my clothes and folds them for me. “Anything, you know it’s rude to deny a woman with child.” I tell her.

She gives a soft smile. “I have to check in with my sisters, can I trust that you’ll be fine without me for a few minutes?” I nod like an obedient child. “I’ll be here, I won’t run. Besides there’s chill in the air, I’d catch my death if I leave like this.” She nods and she quietly leaves me alone.

I rub the cheap soap against my brown skin and let out a soft sigh. I let myself duck underneath the water and let the silence surround me.

Maybe it would be easy if I just drowned in this bathtub. Then these people can find my body and feel guilty for taking me away from my family. However I wouldn’t want Sinder to be the one to find me.

As the morbid thoughts seep through my brain I feel a burn in my lungs. My body twitches under the water and I break the surface and take in a mouth full of air.

Something in the air was off, almost as if someone’s presence was near. I swirl my fingers in the water and stare at the door. “Seems awfully rude of you to watch a lady while she’s having an intimidate moment.” I call out as I feel someone watching me.

I stare harder at the door and feel annoyed that whomever is behind it thinks I’m an idiot. “Might as well come out.” I call out once more. The door slowly opens and behind it was Coriolanus. The scowl on my face disappears and I sit up as he steps into the room and closes the door behind him. “I went to your cell and I didn’t see you there.” Coriolanus confesses with a tinge of red in his cheeks.

I give a dramatic pout and lean on the side of the bath, not caring that my breasts were on full display to him. “Awe, and you thought I ran away? Careful people might think you care about me, Coriolanus.” I say as I watch his eyes roam over parts of my naked flesh.

“And what if I do care? What’s the harm in that?”His eyes lock onto mine and I feel as if I’m in the room with the beast.

That’s a ridiculous thought, this is just Coriolanus, the same Coriolanus that treats me well and has a liking for me.

“All depends, do you care about my wellbeing or just my body?” I ask as I lean back looking at him carefully. His eyes look down and when they look back up they seem to darken a shade darker. He takes a step further into the room which makes me want to back away from him but I make my body stand still.

What is going on here?

“Why do you do that?” He asks, the question catching me off guard. “Do what?” I ask innocently. “Tease and tempt me? I could take advantage of you right now and no one would know.” I swallow before answering.

“I would know, and maybe I want you to take advantage of me a little. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you stare at me, Coriolanus. Like how your eyes linger on my tongue when I lick my silverware clean after my meals. Or how when you cuff me, your hands brush against my skin longer than it should. I fascinate you, and I probably haunt your dreams.” I say as I cup water in my hands and slash it over my face.

“You do haunt my dreams, and my nightmares I’m afraid. But if I could sleep and see your beauty then may I never awaken again.” I blush hearing that compliment and it let a bit of my guard down. “You really know how to lay on the charm.” I comment as I reach for the sponge to wash myself. I wasn’t fast enough because he had plucked the sponge out of my reach. “Please allow me.” He says as he walks behind me.

I go to tell him that it wasn’t necessary but he was already rubbing small circles against my shoulder blades. Which were stiff from sleeping on the hard cot in my cell. I relax and let him work my muscles.

“You’re quite tense, especially here.” He reaches lower and I keep my moans to myself. “That feels nice, really nice. You are talented with your hands, Coriolanus.” I tell him as he lathers up the sponge and goes to rub my lower back.

“It’s a talent among many that I possess.” He comments. I turn to him then and look up at his face. “You know, you are quite beautiful for a man, Coriolanus.” He blushes and looks away. “Thank you, though I don’t think men want to be called beautiful.” I give a shrug. “There are beautiful men and there are handsome women. That’s just how the world is.”

“I like the way you look at the world, you seem to have a fresh perspective on it.” He comments as I study his face. “Mmm, can I ask you something? And you have to answer me honestly.”

“Of course.”

“Does your lover ever get jealous that you spend time with me?” He stops and looks at me puzzled. “I don’t have a lover.” It shouldn’t come as a shock by the way he flirts, but it was a big puzzling to know that he didn’t have a lover. He is quite a looker and his eyes were just gorgeous.

“You don’t? Well that’s quite sad.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Besides if it’s so sad, why don’t you be my lover?” I expected him to ask me that question.

“I don’t think you’ll want me after a while, I am quite the wild card.” He leans in close and move my hair behind my shoulder. “I think I’d want to keep your forever. Would you let me? Keep you that is.”

“I don’t know, give me a good reason I should be kept by you.” I tease. He nods slightly and he places the sponge down. “Not only do you haunt me, but I crave you. I crave to know your taste on my tongue. I crave to feel your body pressed against mine. If there is one thing I want it’s to keep you for all of eternity.” He lets his hands touch my chin and I feel him tug at my lower lip, releasing it from my teeth.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask as I feel him pull me closer. “So you’ll say yes. Say yes and be mine, Evangeline. Be my little rose.” He leans in and fight hard to not fall for his charm. “I don’t think I will.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I suppose I have to use stronger measures then.” With a swift skill, he takes me out of the bathtub and sits me on the edge. “What are you-“ He interrupts me by trailing his fingers down my slit. “You know I’ve been thinking about this little pretty pussy all day. When I had some alone time, I touched myself and thought about you on your knees, taking this down your throat.” He places my hand on his bulge and I let a moan escape my lips.

“Do you know how badly I want this inside of you? In every hole that you’ll allow me to have access too, Evangeline? But first I need to be a gentleman and show you that I will adore the very ground you walk on.” I watch as he lowers himself on his knees and parts my legs.

I wants as he leans in and he inhales my scent deeply. I bite my lip as I see his blue eyes look up at me. “Those moans you were making earlier, I want you to only make those sounds for me. You see, Evangeline. I am a jealous lover and I don’t like sharing what’s mine. So you can’t moan for any other man but for me. Do you understand?” He asks as he massages my inner thighs.

“I think so.” I whimper as I feel my cunt move towards his mouth. “No thinking, say yes, to me my little rose.”

“What if someone catches us?” I ask my mind slowly caring less about Sinder and more about Coriolanus’ mouth. “Don’t worry about that, just focus on me.”

He kisses my pussy lips which cause a slight shiver down my core. The kiss deepens and I feel him use his tongue to part my lips.

I feel my head loll back but his hand finds my throat and I know without words, he wants me to watch. He wants me to watch him devour me.

His fingers tighten a bit but the action was more for pleasure than for pain. I bite my lip, as I continue to watch as he assaults my pussy with his long tongue. His name seems to sing off of my lips as I find a blissful rhythm with my hips.

I reach down and place both of my hands on the sides of his head as I push his face deeper. God his tongue was working wonders on my little throbbing clit.

His eyes flutter closed and I move my hips faster. I feel the balls of my feet press into his thighs as I try to keep balance but I almost lose it when I feel his tongue flick against the hood of my clit faster.

I let out a sharp whimper as he uses his free hand and pressed my left thigh further apart. He then takes his middle and ring finger and does a come here motion inside of me. Massaging my g-spot as well as giving long and salacious licks to my now tightening clit.

“Oh god..” I cry out as I buck my hips harder against his now swollen lips and tongue. His eyes glare up at me as if to dare me to lose control and give him what he desires.

He wants me to say yes.

Shit I can almost taste the word on the tip of my tongue.

I feel his grip on my neck tighten as well as the muscles in my lower stomach. I hook him closer to me as if I want him buried into my skin as I fuck his mouth.

Not caring that we could get caught. No longer caring that he is slowly cutting off my air supply. I want him to make me come, I want to give him the very thing he wants. “Yes…Coriolanus..” Is all I can manage to say before I have tunnel vision. I feel light headed as I come against his tongue. I hear him moan and suck as he releases my throat from his dangerous hand.

I suck in air as he grips my hips and he drinks in all of me. My body shivers but not from the chill in the air. But from the heat that he was giving off of his body. When he looks up at me, he has a very pleased look on his face. He flicks his tongue one more time and I shiver from the action.

When Coriolanus stands up I feel my body wanting to lean in to him, as if he’s a magnet and I’m just a scrap of metal being pulled in his direction. I still my body to keep from falling into him.

His pupils blow out, causing the blue in his eyes to almost disappear. He then licks his bottom lip and reaches out to me. I lean into his touch and he smiles. “My loving little rose.” He whispers to me as he lifts my white loc and twirls it between his fingers.

I say nothing and just look up at him. Something isn’t right, I feel as if I just gave him a piece of my soul and now I’m going to be damned for eternity.

When I finally go to speak we hear a gasp. I turn slightly to see Sinder with a shocked expression on her face. “You’re not allowed in here.” She tells Coriolanus.

“I came in here to check on our guest. And to my surprise I see she was left all alone. What would’ve happened had she had drowned? Then you’d be the one having to be punished. I’ll let it slide this one time. But if it happens again you’ll be the one who will be chosen for the next Reaping and I’ll be sure of it.” Coriolanus says in a frosted tone.

He looks back at me and I see a ghost of a smile on his lips. “We’ll talk later, Evangeline.” He sends a soft kiss against my temple and leaves the both of us in the mess room.

When the coast is clear, Sinder walks over to me with a towel and she starts apologizing profusely. “I am so sorry Evangeline, I was only gone for a moment. He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No, I don’t think he would’ve anyways.” I say as I dry off my body and get dressed. But also not feeling sure that I believe what I just told her. “I would be mindful of that particular Peace Keeper. He’s charming but I’ve heard rumors, that when he takes interests in one of the girls, he likes to play with them until they break.”

She brings me back to my cell and I tell her good night as she gives me one more apology.

It falls to silence and I take my cup and I swirl what liquid I had left in it. “I hope he knows fire can be a bit difficult to break.” With those whispered words, I stare into the cup and dip my fingers into the liquid. As I raise my fingers into the moon light I see flames slowly licking my finger tips. I flick my tongue against them and I smile in the dark corner of my cell.

“Well when you play with fire, you tend to get burned…”

#watsittoyah #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #Coriolanus x black fem reader #young!coriolanus snow #Coriolanus x reader smut #thg series #corio snow #coryo snow #the hunger games #the hunger games smut #Before the snow came the flame #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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wordsandrobots · 8 months

Note

002 for Shino please 🙏

For this ask game. Major spoilers herein

How I feel about this character:

What a perfect dummy.

Norba Shino is the living embodiment of why we care about Tekkadan. Because they are, despite their profession, just as capable of warmth, enthusiasm, care and love as any other bunch of kids. And of being idiots, of being horny, of committing all the mistakes and stupid arguments you'd expect from teenagers.

Which is why it's the right move for him to be the first major casualty as season 2 races towards its inevitable conclusion. All those things -- all that humanity -- leads to Shino's rash attempt to kill Rustal Elion, to him throwing his life away on something that serves very little purpose beyond making everyone feel better about having tried. It's prideful, stupid and reckless, driven by a desperate need to be taken seriously. Everything that makes Tekkadan what it is.

Also he's bi as hell. I adore the great big jug-eared lunk.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Hmm. See, sexually, I could ship Shino with practically anyone. My man is not fussy and he has the kind of personality that could mesh well with most of the cast, frankly. But romance . . . I dunno. I don't actually think, at the point he is in the show itself, Shino is very much capable of romance.

Regardless, current run down of slash-pairings I have written/may write:

Yamagi/Shino = 'I finally got a clue and also PTSD'

Yamagi/Shino/Eugene = 'hey, did you know I'm allowed to sleep with my friends?'

Yamagi/Chad/Shino = 'my partner's boyfriend is having a bad day'

598/Yamagi/Shino = 'that kid we met once grew up hench as fuck and just blurted out 'you're really pretty' at Yamagi while half-drunk - let's go!'

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Shino and Eugene are best buddies for life. Poly-shipping aside, I see those two as joined at the hip forever, with their friendship long predating Orga and Mika's arrival at the CGS.

And yes, Shino's been winding Eugene all the time they've known each other but 1) Eugene needs people to call him on his ego and 2) the way he's still prepared to be vulnerable around Shino anyway means something, you know?

My unpopular opinion about this character:

OK, I don't know if this is unpopular, but I stand by the idea Shino is not actually a fundamentally nice person. That is to say, for all he's an unabashed cheerleader for his friends, a walking bear-hug of a personality, and generally quite sweet in his ignorance, he's also completely at home with violent behaviour. Of all the mecha pilots on Tekkadan's side, Shino is the one who most readily gives the impression of *enjoying* the fights. He's eager for it, wants to prove he's capable of winning, and readily lashes out when he's angry. He is, to my mind, very much a product of being socialised in a military setting and has absolutely no issues with solving problems via beating the tar out of them. A hell of a friend to have at your back but you do *not* want to be on his bad side.

Though obviously my actual unpopular opinion is it 100% took him that long to notice Yamagi was into him and didn't consciously consider being attracted to the guy until then. The pining was *never* mutual.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

*stares at the 600,000 words of fanfic predicated on him surviving his suicide run against the Arianrhod Fleet*

Funny you should ask.

No but seriously though, I would have liked his bisexuality to have been referenced outside the context of Yamagi. Like, it is pretty definitively text that Shino *is* bi, I just think it'd have been funny to establish that, no, he's capable of being attracted to other guys, he just genuinely had it fixed in his head that because Tekkadan were family, sex between them was off the table.

my OTP:

I mean it's not like I'm *not* a total sucker for the doomed in-canon pairing, is it?

What I think it is, is that it's established very quickly that Shino sees Yamagi as a friend and respects his abilities. To an extent, he even thinks Yamagi is really cool! Which, well, he thinks that about all his friends, but it establishes Yamagi isn't pining for nothing. This isn't a 'barely knows I exist' kind of crush, it's a 'I cannot spit out what I actually feel despite the fact the other guy likes hanging around with me and is never less than friendly and complementary'. It feels very 'normal teenager' in a way that, similar to Mika/Atra/Kudelia, contrasts poignantly with the situation everyone is in.

But there are also layers to it, or at least enough attendant details that allow for the possibility of layers. Shino has moments suggesting a fatal lack of self-confidence, for all his bigging up Tekkadan as a whole. He doesn't congratulate *himself* much and he reacts really badly to his skills being doubted, and to letting everybody else down. He's also not a pushy person which sits a little strangely with his otherwise loud, extroverted personality: despite having basically had Eugene confirm Yamagi is into him, he still makes space for the whole 'drinking the night away' thing to be an invitation rather than an assumption.

Yamagi, meanwhile, is blatantly not a shy person in general. He explores ideas off his own bat and presents them to Yukinojo, he's in his element ordering Dane and Hush around, and he gets to be a sarcastic little jerk more often than he pours oil on the troubled waters that are Takaki and Ride. Furthermore, while he lets his crush on Shino show blatantly when it can't be seen, his go-to reaction when observed is to become quite curt and cold. Shino jokes that Yamagi is 'scary' and it's clear the kid knows how to make his displeasure known. Plus, of course, Yamagi rejects -- off his own initiative -- a yearning to have died alongside Shino in favour of picking up where he left off, protecting Tekkadan.

There are angles there, is my point, to explore their similarities and to have their differences run counter to assumptions about who they are based on first appearances. I'm too deep into writing my version of this to be be objective any more but I really do think it's interesting to posit that Yamagi has the more durable personality and Shino a far more vulnerable one, ill-equipped to deal with, say, thinking his failure caused all his friends to die.

In the show, they're a could-have-been. They don't get their chance to be together and if they had, and things had generally gone better, it might not actually have lasted. I don't know how well Shino would have done in a first-time relationship after years of growing up too fast, and I don't know if Yamagi would have gotten what he was looking for out of it.

But give it a few years of Yamagi trying to live up to a Shino-shaped hole in the world and of Shino trying (failing) to live with himself over what happened and they become this wonderful, spiky ball of love, trauma and an enthusiastic openness about sex that comes of learning the cost of taking things too slow.

my cross over ship:

I'm semi-allergic to crossovers (they're just usually not my thing) so I really don't know . . .

a headcanon fact:

I already posted the one about how the thing he wanted to shut Zack up about was getting turned on by a dominatrix so let's go with . . .

Shino is from a big family. Like, over half a dozen kids stuck in one household with over-worked/struggling/absentee parents. That's why he tends to gravitate towards sharing space with the younger boys: it's what he's used to, since he's played the roll of an additional care-giver from the age of too-flipping-young-to-have-that-kind-of-responsibility. He is *really* good with kids, albeit more in a 'on their wavelength' kind of way than actually being anything like a responsible adult.

This is not the tragic part, at least not dramatically so since this is probably the case for a not- insignificant fraction of the Third Group. No, the kicker is that one day Shino's family upped and disappeared and he has absolutely no idea what happened to them. He was off earning money at the CGS and then the next time he went home, the building had been entirely cleared out.

He never talks about it.

------

Well that was probably an unnecessarily sad note to end on. But I really enjoyed writing this! I think I like this ask game :)

#ask game #gundam ibo #gundam iron blooded orphans #g tekketsu #tekketsu no orphans #norba shino #spoilers #lilenui

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sunburnacoustic · 1 year

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The Potholey Bible

—Robin Bresnark, for Melody Maker. December 1999

Darkly intense rockers Muse, erm, Muse on childhood alienation, future deification and trashing toilets

"Aargh! Fuck!" yelps Matt Bellamy, Muse's singer/guitarist. "I've got a stalagmite up my arse!" It's not the most usual way to introduce yourself, but nice to meet you, anyway. Still, Matt and his gloriously dark, intensely intense band, Muse, should've seen a trip to a cave coming, after calling their last single...um, "Cave." Besides, this idea's much better than the ones we had based around their new single, "Muscle Museum". Well it's a lot less sweaty, anyway.

"The idea for 'Cave' came from that rubbish American book, 'Men are from mars, women are from venus', explains Matt, lighting up a comforting cigar, after we abandon the West Wycombe Caves to their bats and waxwork dummies. "There's this bit about how men go into a cave when they get stressed and I think that's probably true, although, personelly, I tend to let it out. I did have a bit of a tantrum in my hotel bathroom last night - but I managed to repair the toilet, so that's OK." You trashed a hotel toilet? "Um sort of. Everyone does that, don't they?" No. They don't.

Then again, not everyone's favourite hobby is flying Paramotors (like a jet-pack only far, far niftier), not everyone got punched in the nuts on his first day of school for being escorted by his mum and not everyone ruined their loved ones lives back in their tender, childhood years. "That's my guiltiest memory, ' shudders Matt. "There was this massive mirror in our house, a really expensive heirloom. And I smashed it. I was swinging this bucket and spade around and it just shattered. My mum ran up to me and screamed: 'You've cursed this family for seven years!' The next year, my parents split up."

Growing up in Teignmouth, Devon, the three members of Muse (Matt, drummer Dominic Howard and bassist Chris Wolstenholme) found themselves shunted into childhoods where, if you weren't a big lunk, music was the only salvation. What made it even worse was that each of them moved to this rural vacuum from various cities at the tenderest of ages (Matt 10, Chris 12, Dom 9) setting them at odds with their peers. "We were in a tiny minority at school," remembers Dom, "The only people at school with long hair and stuff. People used to beat us up, going: 'Ugh! You look like a girl!' "So we became hash-smoking stay-in types and never went to the pubs", nods Matt. "They'd just be full of drunk, fucking cunts—people who'd hang around looking for young girls to break in and young boys to beat up.

Good job they didn't get in the wrong way round really!" Small wonder then, that when the three of them eventually formed a band, it was little more than an excuse to scream like Kurt Cobain and trash everything in sight. On they trundled, playing tacky pub gigs and changing their name on a ridiculously regular basis (Gothic Plaque, Carnage Mayhem and Rocket Baby Dolls) until, one day, Matt noticed the word 'muse' between 'muscle' and 'museum in the dictionary and the rest was histrionics. Wonderful emotional histrionics. "Not everyone saw it that way though," recalls Matt. "We got barred from most of the places we played for being too loud! Maybe we should go back and vandalise their toilets..." Or maybe Muse have got a bigger toilet to trash now.

Earlier this year, Muse signed to Mushroom (over here [in the UK]) and Madonna's Maverick label (over there [in the US]). Since then, they've toured across Europe and the States, tasting morsels of the big time along the way. "It was shocking in France", grins Matt, "We did this signing and there was a massive queue of hot women lining up for autographs. Did I signed any breasts? It was France! There wasn't enough room!" Meanwhile, they recently released their debut album 'Showbiz', recorded with Radiohead producer, John Leckie - which will doubtless exacerbate the Radiohead comparisons Muse have (unjustly) suffered since day one. "We've met enough people who understand that we're different to Radiohead not to worry about that any more," shrugs Matt, and rightly so.

Muse's only worry now is that their inevitable fame will fuck them up even more than obscurity ever did. Something Matt is all too wary of. "Either you just start hating your audience," he frowns, "or you start to think you're some godlike character. Either way you're fucked. Would I make a good God? Oh no."

"I'd like to be Zeus," hums Dom, happily, "and have all nine muses hanging around every day. (They were his daughters– Greek Mythology) They were foxy, those muses." "Calliope, Euterpe," sighs Matt, dreamily. "But my favourite is Erato, the goddess of erotic poetry!" He's lying, of course. His favourite muse was always Muse.

#Muse band #Muse interviews #1999 #Showbiz Muse #Showbiz era #muse band #muse #matt bellamy #chris wolstenholme #dom howard #muse interviews #Melody Maker #I cleaned up the interview a bit - some typos every here and there from archives #Chosen to remove the censoring because that would fuck up accessibility

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softness-and-shattering · 1 month

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I love getting xp from exploring. Slightly less so when the weird secret door is exactly where I was supposed to go but still.

Used my first ever fireball today.

Basically Ive been itching to learn from spell scrolls, and I discovered that with one level of wizard, I can still learn up to third level spells/the highest level I have access to through bard. But because my characyer and I are both dumbasses I left his int at 10 so he has one single wizard spell slot, that thankfully can be swapped any time that isnt combat. And because im Like This I also gave him magic initiate warlock to grab eldritch blast cause I keep running low on spell slots and getting annoyed that I only have a couple offensive spells. Now I have a gazillion but only one at a time 🤣

(If I recruited. Lump? Lunk? Can I call on him and then coldheartedly murder him for the band of intellect? Or do you only have the option to do that in the blighted village?)

So Im in the monastery ruins and I knicked the ceremonial greataxe and the stupid game keeps putting me in combat with the spirit guardian than cant move or harm me from any distance. And I dont want to fight it because its cool and ancient but I cant freaking get and stay out of combat. So Karlach somehow one-shots it. She got a free attack somehow, like she took two and then the third showed up as if it was her second. Wasnt bloodlust elixir it was the first fight of the day. And then I was like eh go for pommel strike, and it had hp left but it just kinda combusted?

So then I turn to the magic door it was facing not realising Id already been on the other side. Dawnfather enchantment doesnt take famage unless the hit does over 50. I look at my level 3 shatter spell, something -24. Noooope. I look through my wizard spells. Fireball. 6-68 I think.

Stand everyone back. Make sure I can see the radius. And let her loose.

It fucking EXPLODED it was glorious. The door fricking crumbled. Im not even mad that it was for a door it was necessary for this door! Ive never played a dnd wizard, ive never had access to fireball ever. And it was all my hopes and dreams fulfulled. Absolutely epic.

Idk what Im gonna do about the creche yet. Ive discovered the ceremonial objects puzzle and Im assuming from game logic it leads to the item, ghe Flare was it, that they built the whole monastery around. That doesnt seem secure for back in the day when people were visiting if the puzzle was just open but. We'll see. And tbh I dont really like Laezel so. We'll see.

Its funny though when everyone fails a survival check around an innocuous bit of dirt. Alas treasure I shall never see, I know youre there.

Also its disturbingly easy maaaybe encouraged to dig up graves? The good doggo (thr collar outcome did make me laugh) and now the guy buried with definitely a tarnished mace nothing suspicious. Maybe I should try put it on one of the pedestals huh.

#mine #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #review #liveblog #i guess #actually remembering to tag for spoilers this time!

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pesterloglog · 9 months

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Jake English, Tavrosprite, Jasprosesprite^2

Act 6, page 7810-7811

JAKE: Tavrosprite thank you for surreptitiously scooting away with me to my planet.

JAKE: I hope they all dont think me too much of a soggy knickerbocker for ducking off without making the rounds and saying goodbye.

JAKE: I just needed to get away and clear my head and i guess get my dander up for this great green man-fracas i am to solely contend with apparently??

JAKE: Say tavrosprite...

JAKE: Youll help me with out this impending pugilism wont you?

TAVROSPRITE: oH, yEAH!

TAVROSPRITE: i'M DEFINITELY READY, tO BRING THE SICK FIRE, tO

TAVROSPRITE: tHOSE GUYS ALLEGED TO BE INSIDE,,, aN ENCHANTED OVEN,

JAKE: Atta boy tavvy!!!

JAKE: Oops is it ok if i call you tavvy?

TAVROSPRITE: yES, i LOVE IT, }:)

JAKE: Actually wait.

JAKE: No i think i wont on second thought tavvy sounds fucking stupid.

TAVROSPRITE: yEAH, pROBABLY,

TAVROSPRITE: oKAY,

JAKE: So were agreed then.

JAKE: We wait here and limber up and flex our stupendous guns a bit then let sail our haymakers once the circus trundles into town.

TAVROSPRITE: i, pROBABLY UNDERSTOOD THAT REMARK, aND AGREE,

JAKE: I just wonder if theres anything else for me to DO aside from kiss my knuckles and lather them up with elbow grease.

JAKE: Turn my ten favorite boys out for a bracing constitutional you know?

TAVROSPRITE: ,,,,,nO,

JAKE: Should i be...

JAKE: SOUL SEARCHING or...

JAKE: Straining my brain to have some sort of magnificent epiphany about myself?

JAKE: Is this...

JAKE: Is this IT for me? Is this all there is to understand?

TAVROSPRITE: uM,,,

JAKE: Maybe theres only so much ragged wood a man can scrape from a barrels basement.

JAKE: Maybe sometimes a fellas gotta fess up to the fact that all there is to get about hims been firmly got already.

JAKE: Ive pretty much concluded that im a complete waste of everyones time if i bother busying their lives with my brand of beeswax and buffoonery.

JAKE: I settled square on the determination that i need to just be alone for most of my life and you know what im perfectly ok with that idea.

JAKE: Im just a lunk head and a loner and thats that.

JAKE: What else is there wonder about myself or my future except which face is most deserving of my fist?

TAVROSPRITE: sINCE YOU PUT EVERYTHING THAT WAY, aND SINCE SOMETIMES IT'S HARD TO DISAGREE WITH A LOT OF CONSECUTIVE WORDS,

TAVROSPRITE: i THINK i AGREE WITH YOU,

TAVROSPRITE: mAYBE YOU'VE FIGURED OUT EVERYTHING ABOUT YOURSELF THAT MATTERS,

TAVROSPRITE: tHAT WOULD BE AWESOME!, lET'S BOTH PUT EXTRA EFFORT INTO HOPING IT'S TRUE,

JAKE: Thats the ticket!

JAKE: I love my aspect it feels so empowering every time i want to feel like somethings real when tons of facts are missing.

JAKE: I really am a lucky son of a bitch arent i tavvy. Shit i mean tavrosprite. Blech what i bad nickname sorry!!!

JAKE: But yeah thats pretty much what the doctor ordered for old jake english. No romantic stuff. No platonic stuff either!

JAKE: Ill be like... Mr nonrom sansplat... Or... Oh horsenoodles there has to be terminology that more effectively consolidates my present understanding of myself into a coherent identity i can get enthusiastic about.

JAKE: Maybe the troll lingo has the answers. Or maybe im pioneering some sort of... shadow quadrant system?? Ooh lordy wouldnt that be a swift kick in the netherdumplings.

JAKE: What do you think tavvyboy should i take my idea to the troll patent office and make a mint?

TAVROSPRITE: i DON'T THINK WE HAVE A THING LIKE THAT,

TAVROSPRITE: aLSO,

TAVROSPRITE: aLL OF MY PEOPLE ARE EXTINCT, aND MY PLANET IS BADLY EXPLODED,

JAKE: Oh yeah.

JAKE: Heh oopsie.

TAVROSPRITE: bUT YEAH, tRAGEDY SITUATIONS NOT IN CONSIDERATION,,,

TAVROSPRITE: i SYMPATHIZE ENTIRELY WITH YOUR SOCIAL IMPASSE, cAUSING NOT GOOD REFLECTIONS ABOUT YOURSELF, tHAT MAYBE ALSO DOUBLE AS LIBERATING STUFF ABOUT YOU THAT YOU RANDOMLY DECIDE IS FINE SUDDENLY,

TAVROSPRITE: oLD ACQUAINTANCES, aND GUYS YOU ONCE CALLED FRIENDS,

TAVROSPRITE: tHOSE ARE VERY HARD,

TAVROSPRITE: bECAUSE OVER TIME THEY GET EXPOSED TOO MUCH, tO ALL MY FLAWS AND INSECURITIES,

TAVROSPRITE: aND THEY START LIKING ME LESS BECAUSE OF THAT,

TAVROSPRITE: aT LEAST, tHAT'S HOW THE TRUTH FEELS, iN MY BRAIN,

TAVROSPRITE: sO i START THINKING, mAYBE THEY CAN'T BE THAT IMPORTANT TO ME, aFTER ALL, iF i'M GOING TO WANT TO FEEL NOT SAD ABOUT MYSELF ALL THE TIME,

TAVROSPRITE: bUT THEN, aLSO,

TAVROSPRITE: i REALLY DO ENJOY MAKING *NEW* FRIENDS,

TAVROSPRITE: aND EVEN THOUGH i DON'T HAVE MANY TALENTS OR BATTLE SKILLS, oR INTELLIGENCE, oR DISCERNIBLE POSITIVE QUALITIES,

TAVROSPRITE: oNE THING i THINK i'M GOOD AT THAT PEOPLE UNDERESTIMATE,

TAVROSPRITE: iS MAKING NEW FRIENDS, wHO DON'T KNOW MY FLAWS YET, }:)

JAKE: Yeah...

JAKE: Yeah!

JAKE: Cheese and crackers tavvers what an inspirational little spiel that just was.

JAKE: Mayhaps youve more concealed talents than you let on??

TAVROSPRITE: nO, aBSOLUTELY NOT, bUT THANK YOU,

TAVROSPRITE: aAA,,

TAVROSPRITE: aAAAA,,, cHOO!

TAVROSPRITE: aCHOO!,!

JAKE: Tavmeister are you ok?

TAVROSPRITE: aAACHOO!

TAVROSPRITE: aCHOOOOOOO,,,!

JAKE: Heavens to murgatroyd park tavenue whats the matter??

TAVROSPRITE: aACHOO!

TAVROSPRITE: aCHOOO,!,

JAKE: Speak to me lobster tavioli!!!

TAVROSPRITE: aAAAA,,,,,

TAVROSPRITE: cHOOOOOOOOOOOO!

TAVROSPRITE: aCHOO, aCHOO, aCHOO!!!

JAKE: Ey! Rikki tikki tavi! Lay it on me bro... do you need to go to a hospital or what?!

JASPROSESPRITE^2: :3

#homestuck #jake english #tavrosprite #jasprosesprite^2 #homestuck act 6 #page 7810 #page 7811 #homestuck act 6 act 6 #homestuck act 6 act 6 intermission 5

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kylo-wrecked · 2 years

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@brooklynislandgirl :// { is it too late for winter? }

— ☾ —

Ben likes Mos Espa most when the cold sets in. Compared to Wetyin, being the worst combination of wet and cold, probably anywhere, anyway. When Mos Espa is brisk, and the rays ease up, he can work out back in a light jacket and cap (he gave up on sun cream ages ago), and he doesn't have to squint or anticipate any sudden shifts in the light, and nobody bothers him. Nobody wants to deal with the blowing dust Ben has a soft spot for. Sand encrusts the chicken wire like ocherous rhinestones and covers his uncle's old, dilapidated cedar shed in a lustrous haze. Makes it look like Mars out there. He and D.O. walk the gulch sometimes, and while D.O. contents herself with snuffing at the shrubbery, Ben watches the heavens descend the East Espan range while the range ascends the stars. Tonight's different, though. Too blisteringly windy, and the dog needs a bath. Hell, so does he.

But Beth. D.O. bounds over, and with the marrow log resting a stone's throw away, Ben fears the worst for a moment. It must show; Beth mollifies him with a smile, with all the sweetness left in the world, and it works because he's a brainless lunk with eyes and fingers. He's inanimate, one of his unfinished sculptures, an object in his own space. His tongue is wet, unformed clay. His heart is, too.

"Merry... Christmas," he repeats as if he's just learned the words. Ben looks around, bewildered by everything his glowering beholds: Beth's toes peeking out from beneath the blanket, D.O. happily gnawing on her bully stick at the foot of the—well, he'd hate to call it a bed while Beth was laying on it—and the tree.

The tree.

For a time, he is a rabbit in Beth's headlights. Minutes pass before he sheds his rabbit fur and moves. He kneels to unlace his chukkas, not taking his eyes off the little scrap tree for a minute. Sense memory directs his motion as he peels off his fishtail coat and the hat Beth made for him and places them on a shelf.

The hat was enough. Now Beth has helped herself to the sundries of his world and imbued a mote of her light in each one, fundamentally changing them. Ben moves through these alternations slowly, with the timidity of an elk, hemming toward the tree, noting the wood she used while affecting an aura of nonchalance, then toward the stove, furrowing his brows at the stew (with more curiosity and chagrin toward its ingredients (his) than horror, although the sting of horror does prick).

As he picks his way among Beth's doings and helpings, he notices her hair ribbon under the tree and absent-mindedly strokes it with the pad of his thumb. The ribbon's bound around a drawing of hers, a watercolor sketch too ardent to be used as wrapping paper. It's a precious moment before he realizes what he's looking at and that it's for him.

A curious warmth creeps down the back of his neck and spinal column. What do you call that sensation? Pleasure? Thrill? Desire? Which sin fits the profile? Cupidity? (He picked that one up recently; it rhymed with a word he'd use to describe his current state). At the same time, shame and doubt clot his throat, and his hands shake too much to unlace Beth's offering.

Generosity tends to ask a lot of the recipient, and gifts beg for eye contact. He can't crumble. He has to say something and look at Beth when he says the words, but he doesn't know what to say or where to look. He swallows.

"Beth..."

Ben wrings his hands with duress enough to wrest the gravel from his knuckles. He hasn't looked at her yet, not anywhere a man customarily does or thinks he should.

"You didn't have to," he mumbles, using the rare possessive. "I just. Just..."

And now that he's looking, Ben jerks on the crag of his unfinished sentence and flushes deeply. She isn't entirely naked. Beth knows that'd mortify him, he'd flee, but she conjures the image with her soft, sleepy smile and the inviting contour of one sun-kissed and delicately placed thigh. He isn't alarmed by her brazen displays the way he is by how badly he wants to spoil the glory of her flesh. Then they'd see about the bath. The words are on the tip of his tongue.

Truth is, he's getting used to her. Beth in his shirts, Beth in his sheets. She's made an imprint on his futon, on him. For all Beth has the gall to give, he hasn't to ask for more.

Ben brings the gift over when he can't bring forth speech, comes and sits on the paint-splattered egg crate to Beth's left, and takes a breath, approaching the ribbon by rolfing its tail between his middle finger and thumb.

'Getting used to' is a terrible thing. It means you fall when whatever it is you got used to is ripped out from under you. Even when that thing's no good, but most especially when it is.

He touches the wax pencils, suspicious at first, then stunned. Beth has underestimated their potential to shatter the earth.

Ben sniffs. And softly, "Thank you."

She could fill in his smile with her brush strokes.

#brooklynislandgirl #m. au | excon!ben: the drifter #mini thread #edited: for quality assurance #{christmas in march}

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elaine4queen · 2 years

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Later on I take the dog to St Anne’s because she hasn’t had a good run for a couple of days and it’s stopped raining. There’s a fruit and veg stall set up there on a Friday, and Lola takes a bit too much interest in it - she’s not above stealing a carrot and I don’t want her weeing on anything.

I encourage her to

Come out of there!

And I don’t know what else I said, but a woman took the time to ask me

Are you speaking to your dog in English?

I say yes, momentarily confused

And she admonishes me

They don’t understand!

I wonder what language she thinks I should be speaking to Lola in. I know that what she means is there’s no point in talking to a dog in sentences, but I disagree quite strongly. Just because dogs don’t talk the same way we do doesn’t mean they don’t get the vibe or even the gist of what we’re saying, and I know that my old dog, Poppet had quite a large vocabulary. She understood lots of stand alone words including ones that are quite abstract like friend.

I met a bloke one time on a dog walk who told me about his deaf Rottie. He said that before he went deaf he taught him sign language so he could still call him in the park, and so on. I do some sign language with Lola and she understands it fine. Dogs understand more than you think. Their lives are spent studying us.

***

This morning is dry. I need a bath but I want to get the dog walk done first so I put on yesterday’s clothes without washing. The dog wanted to go to Palmeira and Adelaide and I fell into conversation with a man who lives on Palmeira. He told me how bad the drainage is and how precarious the gardens are, bolstered as they are by a wall, which could easily be undermined. He’d lived here for years and knew a lot about the gardens. One thing that I like about them is that the people who live there do quite a bit to look after them. I don’t think that they should have to, though certainly the council services are cut to the bone, but just that between the gardening and the dogs there’s a strong community there. I’d like to live on Adelaide, ideally. Not that there’s anything wrong with where I am.

I’ve run my bath and am lying on the bed typing this and Lola’s big lunk of a head is lying on my left arm. She’s obviously sated, which is good.

***

Are you going to Adelaide tomorrow?

I ask Frankie. The bloke I met earlier told me there was going to be a dog show there. I wouldn’t have been able to bring Lola last year, she’d have been aggy with the other dogs, but now I think she’d like it.

I write the bit above just before Frankie arrives with her dog Kip, and then later ask her if she wants to hear some more of what I’ve been writing, and that bit is at the end, which delights her. I did it on purpose.

***

Sunday is sunny. Lola needs an early outing, so midday is too late for a first walk. My foot’s still sore. I think it might be a bunion after all. So I decide to drive to the beach again because I can write there and Lola will entertain herself. I take the turning for Lex’s because even though I’m not starving I want the sausage roll and a coffee.

She says the sausage roll will have to be cold because she’s only just turned the grill on. I make a disappointed noise and she suggests the microwave.

Just for a little minute, to take the edge off?

I ask.

I wolf the roll and decide the cafe has too many temptations and hazards for Lola so I take my coffee onto the beach and sit down on one of the wave like mounds of pebbles.

For some reason it’s ravens or crows who dominate the cafes here - not sure which? They’re quite big. The gulls don’t get a look in. I noticed the other day in the rain that they hang out at Rockwater too. I don’t hate gulls but I actively like corvids. I had a magpie visitor when I had a bird cafe on my window ledge in Bethnal Green.

It’s not comfy sitting on pebbles so I take my jacket off to sit on. I’m only wearing a vest underneath. Although the sun is hot there’s a cool breeze which feels nice on my arms. I put my beanie on so I can stay warm.

Lola suddenly kisses me fervently so I can only assume she’s having a good time.

On the way here the roads were pretty empty but someone decided to drive right up my arse.

Enjoy your speeding ticket ya drongo!

I think. This must have been because of listening to Helen Garner. She doesn’t use that word though. It’s surfaced in my brain after decades of dormancy. I picked it up from watching Neighbours int the 80s.

Despite the cold I roll over onto my front to keep writing and my legs are pitted with cold. Lola’s beside me chewing a feather. The tide is out again and cronching lazily.

My view now is over dunes of pebbles - a row of beach huts and the hedge behind them, and the roof of Lex’s and a handful of banners advertising beer, coke, Smarites ice cream and the like.

Lola watched a family with a toddler. She likes small children.

Ya wanna walk?

I ask her, and she snaps out of her fugue.

#parklife #beach writing #original writing #actually adhd #actually autistic #brighton #dog #dogwalk #hoveactually #hove #driving #drongo #Helen Garner #Neighbours #pebbles #Lex's #cafe #London #bethnal green

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bikelock28 · 2 years

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#my fanfic #my rambles #pluto #remadora fanfic #they should be called lunks #bikelock28

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robininthelabyrinth · 2 years

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Art trade with @yakultyeet who requested an extra for Initiative (the NMJ/JYL fic), potentially involving Nie Rulan

ao3

“Are you sure you should be exercising?” Wei Wuxian asked for about the fifth time, because he could be a terrible nag when he wanted. “What if you get hurt?”

Jiang Yanli was a good, virtuous, and loving older sister, so she didn’t roll her eyes at him. Neither did she smack him on the head, or ruffle his hair, or anything like that.

“Hypocrisy doesn’t suit you,” she teased instead. “Aren’t you and Hanguang-jun getting a name for yourselves as ‘always being where the chaos is’? If anyone should be worrying about anyone, it’s me for you!”

Wei Wuxian flushed pink, which was a new development that had first appeared on this particular visit to the Unclean Realm, and one that Jiang Yanli hadn’t expected. She’d remarked to Nie Mingjue just the night before that if she hadn’t known that he was only traveling around with Lan Wangji, she might have assumed he’d developed an infatuation for someone, or even lost his heart.

Her husband had blinked owlishly at her – it had been late, both of them long since tucked into bed, and his mind mostly on other things, including the current contents of her swollen belly – and he’d asked if there was a reason she was discounting the possibility that he had.

(“Obviously if there’s some history there, I wouldn’t presume to say anything,” he’d assured her as she had, in turn, blinked at him as if he’d lot his mind. “But the way they interacted during the war was always so emotionally charged, I’d assumed there was some attraction there at the very least, and it wouldn’t be that surprising for comrades-in-arms of a that particular inclination and orientation to eventually discover the other’s presence and potential after the circumstances are no longer so pressing…”

“Inclination?” Jiang Yanli had asked, still blinking. “Orientation? What?”

“…isn’t Wei Wuxian a cutsleeve?”

“What? No, of course not. He flirts with girls all the time.”

“A-Li, from what I’ve seen, he flirts with everyone all the time. What does flirting have to do with who he likes? Some people are just born flirts – look at Huaisang.”

Jiang Yanli had had to concede the point, and thinking back on it, she really couldn’t say if Wei Wuxian had ever actually expressed serious interest in any girl. Was it possible…?)

It certainly seemed a lot more likely now.

“Ah, me and Lan Zhan, that’s nothing, nothing much,” Wei Wuxian said, still pink, and then he shook his head purposefully. “Anyway, it’s different! You’re taking care of two instead of one!”

Jiang Yanli’s eyes curved with laughter. “Why, A-Xian, are you saying you’re not taking care of Hanguang-jun…?”

“Shijie, don’t be mean –”

“You’re the one who doesn’t have a golden core,” she reminded him, and he winced, even though they’d all already shed all the tears and done all the yelling they could possibly have done on the subject back when it had first been made clear to them. “And you’re out there night-hunting and doing all sort of wild things, left and right, every day. I’m just sitting here at home. There’s no need for concern.”

“I still think that lunk of a husband of yours ought to be taking better care of you,” Wei Wuxian grumbled.

“My husband is taking excellent care of me. Should I tell him you think he’s a lunk now?”

“No!”

Jiang Yanli giggled. She knew exactly how much Wei Wuxian admired Nie Mingjue – more and more, these days, really. That advice he’d given him about making a new name for himself had really changed his life, and Wei Wuxian’s respect for him, always strong, had turned into something near to hero worship, though naturally Wei Wuxian would never admit it.

It’d only gotten worse after Nie Mingjue had gruffly told both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng that, on account of them all being in-laws now, they might as well both join Nie Huaisang (and Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao) in calling him da-ge. He’d meant it primarily as a means to make clear to the world that no one should even think about messing with either of them lest they have to deal with the maddened fury of the Nie sect, but apparently a reliable big brother was something right out of a fantasy for both of them. Her delightfully silly brothers, each one worse than the next…

“Anyway, you really don’t need to worry,” she said. “I see a doctor every morning, the training-masters are always monitoring my training, and training the saber during the middle stages of pregnancy is completely normal here – firstly because it provides me with a good bit of exercise that isn’t too stressful, given the low grade of the basic routines I’m practicing, and secondly because it’s good luck. Supposedly it means that my child with have a good affinity with their saber.”

“Da-ge’s mother must have done nothing but practice,” Wei Wuxian said, and Jiang Yanli laughed in agreement. “And Nie-xiong’s must have done none at all.”

“Based on what I’ve heard of her, she wasn’t the saber sort,” Jiang Yanli agreed. Nie Mingjue had recounted, to Nie Huaisang’s laughter and Jiang Yanli’s delight, how he had had to sit around and make pleading puppy eyes to convince his Second Mother to take a few rounds with the saber for the good of her own health – apparently Nie Huaisang had come by his laziness quite honestly. “Though actually you’ll find that his affinity with his saber is perfectly all right.”

Wei Wuxian looked disbelieving.

“According to him, his saber’s dream is to be a paperweight.”

Wei Wuxian sniggered. “All right, that I’ll believe!” He shook his head, then glanced at her sidelong. “You’re really happy here, aren’t you?”

“I am,” she said. “I’m very happy. Why do you ask?”

“No – no, it’s nothing. It’s just interesting, that’s all – it’s so different from home here.”

Jiang Yanli nodded solemnly. “Oh yes,” she said. “It’s very different, but it’s something you get used to – something you grow to love. It’s easier than you might think.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. It’s easy because you love the people that are there so much, and the places they grew up shape them, so you see little pieces of them in everything. The training grounds, the forests, the streams…” She glanced at Wei Wuxian, who was nodding along thoughtfully. “Are you asking because you’re thinking of marrying out?”

“Shijie!”

“It’s quite all right if you do, of course. Though since you’re both men and there’s no likelihood of children, maybe you could split your time between the Lotus Pier and the Cloud Recesses equally –”

“Shijie! How did you know?”

“A big sister always knows,” Jiang Yanli lied through her teeth, and turned a grin on him. “So, are you going to finally stop trying to hide it from me? Tell me everything!”

He laughed. “All right, all right – there’s not much to tell, not really –”

#mdzs #jiang yanli #wei wuxian #nie mingjue #wangxian #my fic #my fics

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docholligay · 2 years

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A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

commissioned by @automatuck9!

I really liked A Song of Ice and Fire (to a point, I suppose, before it became clear that he was not interested in finishing it) though I know that’s no longer the fashion but, come now, we all know me. A Song of Ice and Fire came to me YEARS ago, when I still liked fantasy but was growing out of it, and growing frustrated with it, and a librarian recommended the series to me, though I think only the first two, maybe three, were out at the time. Anyway, she was absolutely correct about what I was asking of fantasy, by and large, and I found it in A Song of Ice and Fire.

So I wasn’t disappointed to be given this book that is really sort of three books, little novellas, but all with the same characters.

If A Song of Ice and Fire is too brutal in bits for you, you may like A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. It’s a lot more fun that A Song of Ice and Fire, and while I don’t know if I’d call it lighthearted, the sketching in it is far more black and white, and it’s much more of an easy read. I don’t think it quite asks the things of you that A Song of Ice and Fire does, while still inhabiting its world.

Spoilers below

Bar none, best thing about this series of stories is, I shit you not, that the second story is all about water rights. This is not even me being dramatic, or playing something up for comedic effect, it is simply a truth of the matter. Coming from a state where water right disputes are so common and occasionally very very people get murdered level serious that we have a separate Water Court, I was delighted. Please bring me faux-medieval water law absolutely any time.

The second story also is the one that resonates with me personally the most, mainly for the discussion of what loyalty means, and things like: A king’s mercy is a poisoned gift. Daeron Targaryen left me life, but took my pride and dreams and honor…I should have gone into exile with Bittersteel, or died beside my sons and my sweet king. That would have been a death worthy of a chequy lion…Daeron’s mercy made me smaller. (bolding mine)

When i read that, I folded over the page immediately, and this is actually an idea we revisit in the third novella! The idea that dead, people become ideas, and you cannot kill an idea. You cannot shame it. It cannot betray its own nature. It is stronger than any living person. To have mercy laid upon you, to ask for it, is to save your life at the cost of yourself. Mercy is a political choice, and not for the ways and reasons that people think. Mercy allows someone to fall into the decaying, pathetic weakness of Ser Eustace, which makes far more an example of treason than death could manage.

Speaking of treason, on just the opposite page, we have this: Treason... is only a word. When two princes fight for a chair where only one may sit, great lords and common men alike must choose. And when the battle's done, the victors will be hailed as loyal men and true, whilst those who were defeated will be known forevermore as rebels and traitors.

What an easy summation of what these sort of battles for power look like, and how easy it is for us to find good and evil when the web is ever more complicated than that.

So, definitely, the story about water rights is the best for me. Which I suspect is not the common opinion, though I’m not seeking anyone else’s opinions out until I finish writing this review. I suspect most people prefer the last novella, and I do understand why even if that’s not my own personal preference. The last novella is very quick-moving and contains the sort of intrigue and drama we come to expect from Martin, condensed into a little story. The ending cracked me up.

Dunk is exactly the kind of character that can be a very, very easy sell to me. He is noble, and good, and wants to do the right thing, but he’s not very canny, nor clever, and he knows this about himself. He rolls his eyes at himself over it, constantly telling himself, “Dunk the lunk, thick as a castle wall.” He cannot listen to good counsel, if that good counsel involves leaving someone to be harmed unfairly, or backing the play of someone who’s cheated. He has somewhere between very little and no political prowess. He also has nothing. He’s not a knight with good title and land and all that, he’s just a hedge knight, basically a traveling soldier of sorts for hire, and sleeps under trees and such for want of money.

Like this quote from the first novella: A hedge knight cannot challenge a prince. Valarr is second in line to the Iron Throne…his blood is the blood of Aegon the conquerer…and I am some boy the old man found behind a pot shop in Flea Bottom.

I love that shit. If he were a butch lesbian I would be in love. Sold.

And he never really overcomes this, which is something I really appreciate. It would be so easy, so tempting, to have him become a big deal knight and win the day and have honors and blah blah blah. This is what we would expect from this kind of story, and when I started reading these, I…kind of expected it to do that sort of thing, even having read Martin before, because it IS so much lighter than A Song of Ice and Fire.

But what I like about Martin is still present in A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. He meets with a lady who owns great holdings of land, who is beautiful and clever and has feelings for him, that he returns. But they don’t marry. Of course they don’t. It isn’t politically expedient, and at the end of the little novella, when she marries for political expediency, I was delighted. And it was a happy ending, of sorts! It resolved the plot conflict neatly, everyone got to go home alive…but it was that kind of happy ending where you’re reminded that life is what it is.

The world is not cold and hard and that alone, of course, but the world doesn’t always work they way you want it to just because you might want it really badly, and Martin respects that. Which, in a way, means he CAN break the rules of the society, from time to time, because mostly he respects them. Dunk doesn’t get to win just because he’s the protagonist all the time. Just because we want him to. And so when he does do well, when he does win, you feel a sense of genuine thrill because it is so EARNED in a way I often find lacking in genre fiction*. And there is never a victory he comes away from unscathed, and i don’t just mean, where he gets cool new scars (though sometimes also that) Good people who put themselves on the line for Dunk die. Innocent bystanders get hurt by cruel men who are not punished.

He also lets guys who are annoying be decent, and have injustices done against them. In many other books, Ser Glendon would have been made into a joke, or an enemy, because he’s proud and irritating. But in this series, whatever personal traits he wants for, he is an honest person, and Dunk sees that and stands for him despite not really taking to him on a personal level--and neither do we as readers.

And I think that’s what’s always stood apart for me about Martin’s writing, despite my deep hatred of the television show, long before everyone else hated it**, is that despite clearly being in fantasy, the people and situations feel real. Tragic flaws end in tragedy, and sometimes cowardice wins the day, and everyone acts a little stupid from time to time.

What makes this, I think, lighter, and easier for some than a Song of Ice and Fire would be, is this is a much kinder book on the subject of moral nobility, of honor, of virtue. I loved A Song of Ice and Fire, but it’s not unfair to say that Martin punishes immovable moral principles pretty harshly. Now, whether that’s justified or not is not a matter for this review and is also highly subjective, but I think we can all agree that Martin does that.

This book, does not do that. Virtue does not win the day, always or even often, but he shies away from criticizing strict honor and code of conduct in the way he would come to in his later work. In this case, Martin stays his hand, and whether out of affection for Dunk, or the fact that he hasn’t quite, at this point in his writing career, grown tired enough of truth and honor winning the day to actively punish it, it is very noticeable when compared to later work.

I liked it! I thought it was enjoyable. But for all the things I say above, and I do stand by them, and find this an excellent contrast to his later, it also pales next to the strength of his later work. In this, we see a Martin that has not, to this writer, yet hit his stride.

Egg never feels real to me. He is more a mascot than a person, and it’s more cute than anything that he manages to be a Targaryen and also be just a little peasant squire type thing, serving a hedge knight. I think we see a Martin that has only been able to consider the shallow weaknesses of royalty, Egg’s lack of desire to sleep on the ground and casual willingness to use his position to ease their way. But it does take out a bit of what I think of when I think of young royalty, which is the arrogance of being used to ordering around even your own nanny, of being listened to, and while I’m fine bending this thought for the sake of the narrative, I wanted it to be replaced with something other than “loyal to Dunk”

The characters don’t feel as if they have a very strong arc. This is very much slice of life type things, thought they are pout in a kind of order, and that can be okay. I don’t actually have a problem with it, but I think, knowing Martin and seeing the lengths of the work, i figured it was going to be a bit light on that idea. But if what you love are the complicated ethical and moral frameworks done in ASOIAF, this is going to leave you as dry as the Chequy water.

I just complimented Martin’s later work and said it was better, but I’m gonna walk that back a bit. It’s better because it’s longer. What do I mean by that? Well, when something is so long, and involves so many moving pieces and players, you can ignore some of Martin’s annoying little tics that work their way into the writing. All writers have them, and whether you find them annoying or not depends on the the relationship between you, the writer, and the work. This can be very complicated. All that to say that in ASOIAF, his penchant for pattern and repetition is easy to live with and even charming, but apparently if you make the man pay attention to one character for 350 pages back to back, I really begin to notice and it begins to grate on me.

My copy was illustrated, and this isn’t something that generally suits my fancy. I wouldn’t go so far as to count it against the novellas, of course, but I would say it doesn’t add anything for people named Doc, who are me.

In all, I’d say if you like fantasy/knight type stories, these are easy and light entertainments that would go great with a glass of wine in the bathtub or on an airplane.

Any other thoughts or questions, let me know!

*before anybody climbs up my ass, yes, this is also true in the types of genre fiction that I like.

**It was clear to me from the first season that the show did not understand, fundamentally, that what many, or me at least, liked about A Song of Ice and Fire is that it was a series that would never cheat to let the good guys win. They thought it was all about brutality for brutality’s sake, and made it a show that would cheat to let the bad guys win.

#Doc reads

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ofwolvesandbutterflies · 4 years

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pink silk, black leather

Jung Jaehyun x Reader

requested by anonymous

“You’re infuriating,” Jaehyun growled, ripping the black leather jacket off his shoulders to drape it much gently around your quivering body. “You call me in the middle of the night, in a sketchy bar on the outskirts of town and for what? I’m in the middle of a goddamn meeting and I get a call because you lost your left high heel?!” the fuming male slammed a hand down on the frame of his car mere centimeters from where your head rested. His dark eyes looked murderous and the icy glare he sent you shot a grimace down your spine. Despite the entirety of the unfortunate situation you had found yourself in with your body pressed against the cool metal of your best friend’s car and said man glowering at you, all you could think was damn, that man would make one hell of a good mafia boss.

“Jesus, Y/N,” He tore his frustrated gaze away from you to roll his neck. Though the chill of the evening had been enough to expel most of the drunkenness from your system, the intoxicated part of you greedily drank in the way the dark red dress shirt hugged his toned torso. The top three buttons of his top had been left open, only heightening the butterflies starting to form in the pit of your stomach. And you would have kept staring at your childhood friend for much, much longer had he not leaned in, rage flitting in his dark irises. “Couldn’t you have chosen a different day to go clubbing? My god, this is the worst evening...”

Well shit, you thought, a bitter taste filling your mouth and killing the butterflies as he went on, muttering on about his obvious distaste for the situation at hand. He didn’t need to yell so loudly.

“Jae-” you faltered when his gaze zeroed in on you. “I… You didn’t have to come- I mean, if you were that busy, I could have just called a cab...” the shamefully murmured words fell almost inaudibly from your lips. A lame excuse, really, but it was the only thing you could think of to say. A wretched combination of panic and hurt coursed through your bloodstream when Jaehyun gritted his teeth, glaring darkly at you. That, you thought to yourself. Had definitely been the wrong thing to say.

There had only been a couple of occasions you had seen your best friend get so heated, and up until now, none of those times had been directed at you. However, if his hair wasn’t so disheveled, if his eyes weren’t so crazed from sleep deprivation, if the bags under his eyes weren’t so dark… you just may have been angry, too.

“You didn’t have to come, Jaehyun,” he mocked you, pulling his usual baritone voice much higher than was necessary. The words - though just words - struck out at you and you winced as if you had just been slapped. Hot tears burned at your eyelids and he continued in his mimicry, oblivious to the hurt welling up in your stomach. You had known Jaehyun for long enough to know that he wasn’t angry at you, rather just at his wit’s end with work and misdirecting the stress. Still though, it didn’t make the accusations hurt any less.

“If you were that busy,” he went on imitating you, jaw clenched. “-you should have just left m- No!” Another grimace shook your body at the sheer volume of his voice. You bit your lip, fighting down the whimper. “I would come to get you even if you had called from China about scraping your knee! Dumb, right? But I guess that's what I get for caring so much about a clumsy kid like you, huh?” he barked, finally finished with his rant. A few pathetic sniffles sounded in the back of your throat and your best friend's eyes shot towards the tears streaked down your face. Horrified, Jaehyun shut his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Fuck," he sighed, all the anger and rage from before melted into tired exasperation as he rubbed a hand over his tired features. For a moment, his mouth opened and closed, trying to formulate some sort of apology for the unspeakable way he had just treated you.

“Jae...?” Shoving your fears aside, you stepped forward to cup his warm cheeks. His ivory eyes met yours, slowly, reluctantly and all you could see was tired regret. “Are you… are you done now?”

“...Yeah.” Dropping his forehead onto your shoulder, you let him pull you into his arms. "I just- I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean that. Any of that. It’s not your fault, none of this is because of you. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you and I’m- I… God, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to see me like that. It's just been a rough couple weeks at work, business deals falling through, people not doing their jobs correctly. It's hard, it's annoying, and half the time I'm like 'why are we even having meetings at 2 in the morning?'"

His words were muffled as they slid harshly down the skin of your shoulder, but all you could do was rub careful circles into his back. Jaehyun never talked much about his job to you and you never minded it. All you knew was that he was in business administration of some sort and most days you saw him, he had much too fancy of a suit on for the bruises and cuts littering his porcelain skin. You had learned not to ask him. The first time you inquired, he brushed you off quickly, telling you that when it came to spending time with you, it was strictly 'you time'; nothing would be said about his job because he wanted to keep work life and home life separate. You could respect that.

But you didn’t like this side of him. Jaehyun pulled away only enough to wipe at the dried tears on your cheeks. “I know you’re probably angry with me,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried for a smile. “-but please don’t hesitate to call me if you need something. I promise I won’t yell at you.”

“Well, I know I won’t call as often now... I don’t know how much I like getting yelled at by ‘big boss Jaehyun’.” You shot him a look and he chuckled sheepishly.

“I-I’m sorry, I really am. I won’t do it agai-”

“I’m kidding, you big lunk,” you brushed the fallen hair from out of his eyes with a soft smile. “Although I would still like not to be yelled at again.”

“That,” Jaehyun grinned. “I can do. Now, let’s get you home.”

Unraveling you from his grip, he opened the car door for you. You climbed in, body relaxing under the welcoming residual warmth of the inside of his Tesla.

“Oh right,” he paused, catching the passenger door just before it closed. “You look beautiful tonight.”

The door closed and a rush of red hurried to your cheeks. And as Jaehyun jogged around the back of the car, you spared a fond glance down at your pink silk minidress.

send me a title and an nct member and i’ll write a blurb for you

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jitterbugjive · 4 years

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Planet Fitness Hypocrisy

So this is something I’ve been kinda pissy about for a long time, ever since I went to a Planet Fitness back when I lived by one.

See the thing is, Planet Fitness has very specific rules, and I have absolutely no problem with these rules because I totally understand what they’re going for. The problem is what they say the REASON is for those rules.

They call it a “Judgement Free Zone”, but there’s just one major problem with that statement. What you can also find in the gym is this:

Which is basically judging people for working out a specific way and stereotyping them. It’s really ironic how they say Lunks “judge” people, but by calling them lunks and pointing them out as if they are bad people is judging in and of itself.

They SHOULD call themselves and “intimidation free zone” because that’s what it is, that’s what people go there for. You can’t just say you’re judgement free when you exclude one type of person and go out of your way to point out how bad that type of person is in your setting.

>:/

So yeah that’s my two cents.

#planet fitness

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3pirouette · 3 years

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Fic: The Honey Trap (3/?)

Title: The Honey Trap

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: Peggy’d lost count. She wasn’t sure if she was a double or triple agent at this point, and in the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of this alive.

A/N: While I'd hoped to keep up the updates every week, RL is not cooperating. I'm still going to update as often as I can, and the story's not abandoned. Just going to be a little slower than expected. This chapter is a direct continuation from the last.

~*~

Peggy was aghast.

She’d made a loop around the commissary, stopped at the supply tent, chatted with a nurse, all the while very carefully being very, very obvious that she’d been following Steve as he moved about camp. And she was absolutely not careful when she slipped into his tent in full view of half a platoon ten minutes ago.

Peggy sat next to him on his cot, quiet. Steve couldn’t help but fidget, turning the compass over and over in his hands. “I guess it’ll…”

“They’re morons, all of them.” Peggy said loudly and suddenly. She turned to Steve, eyes bright. “I never would have pegged them for that, but goodness. The lot of them!”

“What do you mean?” Steve pocketed the compass, turning to her.

“Well, had I known how easy it would be to slip into your tent without anyone raising the alarm I certainly would have done it before this.” She laughed and turned to him, playing with the collar of his shirt. “And I certainly would have done it quite often.”

A blush crept up his cheeks as his hands fluttered around her hips. “Peg, we shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” She refused to be chastised and leaned forward to kiss him quickly. “In a matter of days, I’ll be back in London and you’ll be god knows where and we’re going to have to pretend this is all real. Who knows when we’re likely to see one another again?” She kissed him again, softer this time, and his hands wrapped firm around her. “Besides, if those lunks out there are stupid enough to miss me walking in here with you—”

“Maybe they’re smart enough to keep their mouths shut,” Steve rebutted as he gave in and kissed down her neck.

“In either event,” she lifted his face to look in his eyes again, “we should be smart enough to take advantage.”

~*~

It was Bucky, surprisingly, that was waiting for her when she emerged from Steve’s tent. He stepped out from the space between the canvas two tents down and fell into step with her, eyes dark and hands in his pockets.

She and Steve hadn’t actually talked about what he might tell his best friend, because in theory he couldn’t tell anyone anything. Neither of them could. She kept moving, Barnes keeping pace with her, until she’d managed a loop of almost the entire base without shaking her silent shadow. Finally, she walked out past the mess, stopping only when they were afforded at least some privacy.

“Well?” She finally asked, eyeing him and crossing her arms smartly.

Bucky shuffled his feet then looked up at her, face tight. “What kinda game are you playing?”

“Game?” she asked, incredulous. If anyone should have known just how real their feeling were, it should have been Bucky.

He shook his head and looked away. “The idiot’s head over heels for ya. You have to know that.” He looked at the ground and huffed a heavy sigh. He was caught between anger and disappointment when he looked back up at her. “You start breaking regs, he’s gonna follow right behind and one of you is gonna get hurt. Or worse: court martialed.”

Peggy started to reply, but he held his hand up. “Nah- I don’t… I don’t want to hear it. I’m happy for him. For you. And if this was any other place or time, I’d be shoving the two of you together like ya wouldn’t believe.” He shook his head sadly. “We’ll cover for you two as long as we can, but you know just as well as I do that Phillips and the rest of those higher ups can only turn a blind eye for so long.”

Bucky leaned down, as he started to move away. “Please don’t mess with him, Peg. You might be strong enough for it, but he’s still that 98-pound dumb struck kid inside that shell.”

All the bravado she’d felt at sneaking into Steve’s tent left her as Bucky walked away. Her stomach sank, heavy with the thought that Steve had the very real potential to be hurt in all this. Being undercover was never easy, especially when it meant faking relationships or allegiances, but Steve would be very aware of her playing house with another man, of her pledging her loyalty to the very organization he was laying his life on the line to fight.

She knew, when this was all over, she was going to have to mend some fences with some friends she would have to deceive, the Howlies high on that list. She just hadn’t considered, until this moment, that she might have to fight to regain Steve’s trust, as well.

She’d never even thought until now that she might lose it.

~*~

The idea that she’d be hurting Steve kept her up all night, tossing and turning in her bed. She thought about getting up, slipping out and sliding into his tent under the cover of darkness, but Bucky’s words, his face, were caught on a loop in her brain.

Being caught would fuel the fire. But up until now they’d been very careful about their relationship, about finding very private moments to share a kiss or an embrace. Steve had fairly romantic, if somewhat conservative, views about how she should be treated before they could be even publicly dating, and she’d done her best to respect that.

She’d never wanted to hurt him.

Steve seemed so strong. So confident. Even when she first met him, there was a strength to him that transcended his small body.

Somehow, she always imagined he’d end up hurting her. She dreamt of him walking away, one of the showgirls from the USO on his arm, or leaving because she wanted a career and not to be home taking care of kids. She had nightmares of him laughing at the end of the war, walking away with gaggles of fans under each arm once he realized he could have his pick of the bunch as Captain America. Peggy heard the words of other men come out of his mouth in her darkest moments, men from her past that called her names she didn’t like to repeat in polite company.

Somehow, she always imagined she’d be the one left behind when he realized all the doors his transformation would open up to him.

Peggy waited until sun up and slipped out to the mess, eating but not tasting her ration before she went to find him. She caught him just as he was leaving his tent, and with the tip of her head, he followed her.

“Morning…” he started cautiously, seeing how wound up she was. “Newsreel guys will be here any minute, so—"

She cut him off. “I didn’t sleep at all last night and it was Barnes’ fault.”

Steve watched the nervous energy pour from her in the way her fingers kept fidgeting at her sides, the way her breath came just a little faster. He shook his head and huffed a frustrated sigh. “What did he say?”

She thought about lying, turning right around, and not having this conversation. She shook her head, stepping just a little closer to whisper. “He made me realize how hard this is going to be on you.”

“Peg—”

“No,” she stopped his interruption, taking his hand. “You’re going to have to see me lie, you’re going to see me pretend to love another man and pretend to fight for an ideology that would have the world burn around us.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she held his hand tight. “I know it won’t be easy for me,” she finally looked up at him, “but until yesterday I hadn’t thought about how it might be for you.”

She stepped closer, taking both hands and framing his face gently, looking deep into his eyes. He held her gaze, never wavering, as she spoke. “I need you to know I love you. I love you, my darling, and no matter what I say, or what I have to do out there, or how long we’re apart, that will not change.” She took a slow, deep breath. “I don’t expect it should be easy when it’s all said and done, but…”

He smiled as she stuttered and wrapped his hands around her cheeks, eyes bright. “I love you, too, Peg.” He smirked when the anxiety left her and relief flooded her body at his words. “I know it’s going to be hard, being apart, but that won’t change for me, either. We’re going to make it through all of this, somehow. And I’ll see you soon. As soon as I can, first chance they’ll let me, ok?”

He leaned down, kissing her gently, and though Peggy felt a lot better, she still felt the tiny stirrings of fear and guilt. “Somehow,” she whispered.

~*~

He held her hand tight as they stepped through the low brush, moving to the tiny outcropping of trees they’d claimed as their own since they’d been at this base as the sun set low.

It was ridiculously easy to get the compass in front of the cameras. The newsreel team, knowing they had a great piece of gossip on their hands, made an effort to keep Phillips as preoccupied as possible when that little bit of footage came up, making it easy for Phillips to “miss” it as he approved the footage.

Meanwhile, Steve and Peggy snuck in as many moments alone together as they could in the last few days, knowing indulging would help their case in the long run. Peggy never mentioned to Steve that it helped soothe her fear that when all of this was over, she’ll have lost him.

Steve leaned back against a large pine, pulling her into his arms. “How long do you think we have?”

“Sixteen minutes before the next patrol,” Peggy answered as she kissed him, fingers running through his hair, “give or take.”

“I meant,” he lifted her from her feet with a smile and let her wrap her legs around his hips as he turned, pressing her back up against the tree, “how long do you think we have before they transfer you?”

Peggy hummed as he started kissing across her collar bone. “A day, maybe two at the most. I think they start showing it tonight in London.”

“I still don’t like this,” he muttered, pausing his kisses and nuzzling into her neck. “The idea of you out there, with Hydra…”

Peggy pressed him back. “I’ll have you know I was fighting Hydra long before you came along—”

“I know.”

“—and I can take care of myself.”

He was chastised, but looked at her earnestly. “You’re right. I’m being—”

“Chauvinistic?” She quirked her eyebrow at him and shook her head. “Overprotective? Pigheaded?” She shook her head, sighing as her temper softened. “It’s all dangerous, Steve.”

He moved a hand to cup her cheek, drawing his thumb up over her cheek. “I still have a way with words, huh?”

She smiled at that. “You still talk to me about as well as you did that day in the car.” She pecked a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Lucky you, I find that endearing.”

He returned the gesture. “Lucky me, indeed.”

“Come along, then,” Peggy gave a gentle tug to his head, angling him back to her neck. “We’ve got to make the most of what we have left, and I estimate we’re down to fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

~*~

“This is it.” Phillips was calm, just the way he always was before he sent his troops into battle. Peggy found it reassuring and frightening at the same time. “If you have any doubts, I need to hear them right now.”

Peggy looked at Steve, his blue eyes pleading for her to call it, for her to stop this whole thing. But she knew he understood, just as she did, that despite the risks, there could be a greater reward.

“No doubts.” She stood tall, shoulders back. She knew this was going to hurt, no matter how fake it was.

“Son?” Phillips looked at Steve, eyes just as steeled.

“None, sir.” Steve shook his head and handed over his compass.

The speed with which Phillips changed gears and started yelling startled them both. They all knew it had to be a show, and had to be believable, but Steve was unprepared for the way Phillips let fly, and for how loud he was.

The Colonel, as ever, had known what he was doing. Within seconds, Steve could see little eyes and ears at the edges of the tent where the flaps didn’t quite close, hoping to get just a snippet or two of what the man was saying.

Peggy bit her lip, listening as Phillips let loose words and accusations he’d never used with her, but had always been quick to the lips of other men around female officers.

Neither was ready for the way Phillips took the compass and threw it like a fast ball out of the tent and into the mud.

“What, Carter?” he asked harshly, his voice still booming. “You gonna cry now?”

Her lip quivered. She wanted to. And she could see standing as close to him as she was, that in his eyes, Phillips regretted everything he was saying. “No.”

“No, what?” He let loose.

“No, sir!” She fairly yelled back, a tear slipping from her eye.

At that he winced. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and pressed on. “And you, Rogers.”

Steve said nothing, just swallowed heavily.

“I never expected anything out of you in the first place. How nice of you to not disappoint.” Steve hung his head, the words cutting deep. “Latrines. Now. You’re digging and cleaning them until you hear otherwise from me, got that?”

“Yes, sir.” Steve parroted back, his voice loud but broken.

“Just because you look good in tights doesn’t mean you’re worth more than shit around here.” Phillips shook his head, lips pressed tight. “And you.”

“Latrines as well, sir?” Peggy asked, trying to sure up her voice the best she could.

“You think I’m a damn fool who was born yesterday?” He shook his head, hands on his hips, the steam rolling out of him. “Go pack your things. You’re on a transport in one hour. Because you’re a lady you get a nice, cushy, office job back in London. I’m sure the typing pool will benefit greatly.”

Phillips’ head fell, he couldn’t look at either of them. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He bellowed. “Go!”

Steve pretended not to see the men scurry away from the tent as he exited. He couldn’t help but look at Peggy as she followed him out. Her eyes were full of tears he knew she would try desperately to keep from falling.

Peggy stopped, crouching in the mud to pick up his compass. She pulled out a handkerchief from her back pocket, cleaning it the best she could before she handed it to him, avoiding his eyes and using the cleaning an excuse to get her emotions back under control.

Steve stuttered, unsure of what to say. Phillips had cut them both to the quick, even if it was for show. “You, uh… you want help with your trunks?”

“I can manage,” she whispered, eyes still on the handkerchief in her hands.

Steve shoved the compass in his pocket, looking around. The men who had been listening at the tent had scattered and they were, by all appearances, alone. Not that it mattered anymore. For better or worse, for real or for cover story, they were no longer a secret. “Peg,” he pleaded, taking her hands in his, “look at me.”

She huffed out a breath and looked up. “Harder than I thought.” She nodded quickly. “I’ve... I have to…” She tilted her head towards her tent. “Soon,” she whispered, leaning into him. “Somehow.”

“Somehow,” he parroted back. He wanted to kiss her, but knew he couldn’t. There was just one piece left of the puzzle. He took a deep breath. “Hard as you can, ok?” His whisper was as quiet as he could make it. “Don’t hold back.”

Peggy steeled herself, taking short deep breaths. She pushed away, hurt that was real for the both of them written plainly across her face. “This is all your fault, Steve Rogers!” With a cry she wound up and slapped him, hard, across the jaw.

Steve cradled his cheek as she turned, stomping away.

He hated that this was going to be his last memory of her for a long time. He just kept telling himself that he’d see her soon. Soon.

Bucky stepped up next to him, slinging his arm around his shoulder. “What the hell happened, Steve?”

Steve just shook his head. “Hell if I know.”

“Come on,” Bucky turned him around. “We can go get some wax or something to stick in your nose so that super soldier sniffer of yours doesn’t lay you out in the latrines while you tell me all about it.”

#Steggy #Steggy Bingo Bash #3P's Fic #The Honey Trap #Steggy Fic

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