#which I don’t currently have hence this post
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juniorsailmakermattcruse · 5 months ago
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people are always like “oh just pirate everything you watch it’s sooo much easier” but they neglect to mention that first you have to wade through a bunch of shady websites to see which one has the thing you want to watch and then you have to fight 10000000 ads and pop-ups and then you have to either be patient as it takes a decade to load or it loads but then it stops every 2 seconds and you have to pause and unpause and rewind and fast forward over and over and then you give up and refresh the page and it loses your place so you have to crawl through it trying to find the right time if you didn’t remember it and half the time the video won’t load if you don’t just play it from the beginning so you waste even more time and get even more frustrated and on top of all that they almost never have subtitles that work
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the-somwthing · 7 months ago
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oh god I reached tag limit. Dear god. Should I make my own post or are my takes in the tags god awful and I should’ve kept them to myself 😭
(also I mistakenly said clethubs instead of cledubs cuz it flows better, ignore me Etho has nothing to do with any of this)
ok now that im watching scotts pov i can finally make the poll i want
#tbh my honest opinion is something I’m pretty scared to share with the world#but basically it’s that it wasn’t healthy but it literally wasn’t that big of a deal anyways#like if it was a long term relationship they’d have to work thru some things but seeing as they were in a death game that’d be a waste of#time. and even tho it wasn’t perfect they liked having each other. so yeah I agree with that other person where’s cute/unhealthy lmao#anyways on the topic of 3L FH being toxic can we talk about how literally all the 3L relationships are like that#like FH is Different from the others but whenever I think ‘what healthier relationship would notice the problems with FH’ I realize there i#none. except maybe Clethubs but I’ll have to rewatch. but I think they were fine from my memory then again my memory said that about FH too#but like Scarian? I think fans make it out to be wayy more toxic than it was but it still wasn’t a perfect healthy relationship.#treebark? idk why ppl praise it for being healthy. sure it was more of a Tragedy but it still wasn’t that great!!!#so basically I don’t think it was FH specific I think there was something in the water in 3L that made it toxic yaoi#and maybe our minds twist FH into being healthy because it was the closest to a domestic relationship as we could see#I will add to Clethubs tho that there was much going on with their secret girlfriend so that kind of taints it#if we wanna get deep into the meat of it I’d also like to point out that the reason we remember 3L FH being healthier than it was#might be because we thought of the life series back then slightly less as purely RP. so Scott’s teasing was purely OOC and their characters#were in love. because they said their characters were in love so that’s what we went with while their irl selves made fun.#I’m not saying that’s the Correct way to see it (tho I wouldn’t blame ppl for choosing that path) but it’s something we were all more likel#to believe back in the day. hence why we didn’t see Scott as abusive to Jimmy since it was the regular Timmy Teasing everyone is used to.#Scott wasn’t really an Exception to being mean to Jimmy at the time. I guess ppl just expected he’d act different cuz that’s his husband no#and I’m not saying Scott is RIGHT to be mean but I’m saying that it was NORMAL. hence why I believe Jimmy wasn’t rlly super negatively#affected by his toxic relationship with Scott. that’s sort of just the relationship they had previously. I don’t think he expected anything#different when he got married. I don’t think Jimmy moved on cuz he hated the way Scott treated him I think he moved on cuz he found better.#I mean truthfully I think he moved on cuz that’s literally how the game works LMAO but in terms of his future general hostility. which I’d#argue is mostly caused by Scott constantly bringing up FH when Jimmy’s like ‘3L was years ago 😐’#and again since probably DL he’s realized he can have better. in LL it was. the same as 3L lmao.#where am I. maybe I’ll- ah shoot I’ve realized this is too long. poppy make ur own post when?#anyways I still have more to add. I think Scott was only so controlling because it was a death game and he didn’t want Jimmy to die.#and called Jimmy incompetent cuz let’s face it that’s facts. NOT IN THE CURRENT DAY (he’s cracked) but back then OH MY GOD.#Jimmy’s improved a LOT is all I’ll say.#basically while all of Scott’s actions were pretty toxic within the context it’s understandable (death games/ur supposed to tease jimmy/etc#all this being said I need to rewatch Jimmy. I started his POV a while back and never finished meanwhile I’ve rewatched Scott’s out of orde
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starsandsuch · 6 days ago
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Nakshatras I associate with fame:
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Disclaimer: In this post I seek to reveal Nakshatras that bestow fame yet aren’t usually talked about when it comes to “fame” Nakshatras. We already know the more obvious Nakshatras that bestow fame like Dhanishta, Magha, Aqua/Leo etc but the following naks are ones that I see in the charts of many famous people , influencers and public figures. Sun, Moon, Ascendant or Atmakaraka Planet.
Vishaka -usually popular in the music industry. They accumulate a lot of power and achieve a lot in the public eye. They are polarizing figures -ppl either love them or hate them, but they gain even more fame from having haters than lovers.
Revati - they gain popularity easily and it tends to be long lasting for them. They’ll have a lot of followers on social media and people fawn over everything they do. Like “omg she wore army pants and flip flops, so I bought army pants and flip flops”. They are excellent socialites as well-they know a lot of people.
Punarvasu - they have a global appeal. They’ll be famous where they’re from but also in different countries and cities, worldwide. I notice these natives pictures/content gets reposted on social media a lot. They’ll be popular IRL and online. Many Punarvasus will have a famous spouse/parter and gain fame bc of them.
Ashlesha - there is almost always a current social trend that traces back its origins to an Ashlesha native. Which I talk about in this post about mercury naks. They are always trending on social media, even the most followed people on IG -Cristiano Ronaldo and Kylie Jenner- both are Ashlesha natives. People circulate Ashlesha’s images a lot online, and even if they don’t post frequently a lot of people obsess over their content/images that are years old. They have many “copycats” as well. Hence why certain trends can started by them, but often they might not receive credit for said trends. Marilyn Monroe had Ashlesha Asc and in present day people are still circulating her images and copying her look, decades after her death.
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Pushya - this is one of the top socialite Nakshatras. They’re good at being all things it all people, they’re public image is just naturally likable. They have a balanced reputation that is favored by many demographics. They tend to be the “cash cow” for their family, record label, franchise etc so they have big machines/teams of people behind them that prolong and maintain their fame.
Swati - another top socialite Nakshatra. Over the course of their life they accumulate so many different social connections, that they are just undeniably popular. They are great at manipulating their public image to attract bigger audiences. They are polarizing figures, that tend to profit from having haters.
Purva Phalguni - if anyone was destined to gain fame at some point in their life, it’s purva phalguni. These natives will gain worldwide fame very quickly, even at a young age. They “blow up” over night, and people can’t get enough of their theatrics. They love performing and out of all the Nakshatras listed here , I feel like they enjoy + desire fame the most. They’re someone that may be disliked in personal relationships but the public loves them + their image.
Purva Ashadha - they are talented at being theatrical and interesting. Their image in the public eye is a glamorous one. People consider them “goals” a lot of the time, so frequently they have a cult like following.
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Related posts:
Leo Nakshatras and fame
Mercury Nakshatras and manipulation
Fame indicators in Astrology
What would make you famous based on your birth chart?
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thedarkdisgrace · 8 months ago
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Ok, follow up post to the original cause I wanted to actually offer my analysis/interpretation on this.
I feel like this is a right/left brain analogy 🧵
Dazai covering his right side, the side supposedly responsible for the emotional & artistic things. It says alot about his mindset, accurate for that time.
It’s intriguing, then, Kouyou covers the “logical” side
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I feel like this lends to why Chuuya & Kouyou do get along well. While both Chuuya & Kouyou are no doubt very intelligent (Asagiri literally refers to Chuuya as a genius) they both still lean very much into their emotional side as well. Even if Kouyou seemingly does so less.
Kouyou reveals herself, however, not only in her care for Chuuya but we mainly see it how she handled the situation with Kyoka.
She could have insisted Kyoka come back without ever changing her mind but when Dazai presents her with a way to save Kyoka from dark, she agrees quickly.
Kouyou clearly cares & wanted to help & protect Kyoka even if she went about it poorly. She was trying to help based on her past experiences, lest we forget that she tried to leave the mafia herself once, for *love* no less. She also tends to get emotional when talking about her past or her wish to help Kyoka.
But once she was presented with another solution, a far better one, she didn’t do “what’s best for the mafia”. Kouyou agreed to what was best for Kyoka & that was definitely a more emotional choice.
This is an area where Chuuya & Kouyou align. So, of course they would get along.
Chuuya always seems to find the balance between his logic and emotion. However, he can easily & often does lean more into his emotional side first, then his logical side.
It’s similar for Kouyou, even if we don’t see it as much from her.
Back to Dazai then, when he left the mafia & the cover on Dazai’s “emotional side” was gone Dazai seemed to also move more towards that balancing of the two sides.
He started off heavily relying on his logical brain & struggled emotionally. Often feeling numb or apathetic mostly, hence his suicidal ideation.
Then he meets Chuuya & this shifts. Chuuya forces him to experience new feelings. As Chuuya is a living breathing example of most things Dazai felt the world lacked. It opened Dazai to the idea that there is more to the world, there is more to *people*. Chuuya intrigues Dazai enough to make him want to live a little longer again. Chuuya gave him a reason to keep going, a promise of more.
From the moment he met Chuuya, it was a process of letting more & more emotions seep into his mind & his heart. We see how he feared for Chuuya in 15 even after they just met, even though Dazai *knew* it was a plan.
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I might even venture to go as far as to say Dazai may not have feared for someone else’s life that hard before. It was a burst of unrecognizable emotions to him. After this, he only had more & more emotion seep in as the years went by. In Storm Bringer he was ready to sacrifice the city to give Chuuya a choice.
That relationship opened Dazai up to others later, namely Oda & Ango. Which only further encouraged the intermingling of his logical brain and his emotions. Then reaching the point at which the bandages were finally removed entirely and then he, like Chuuya, moved to striving to find the balance rather than relying on one side.
Bringing us back to current Dazai as he is still attempting to find that balance.
He still leans more towards his logical side. This, of course, in contrast to Chuuya who, while intelligent, more easily leans into the emotional.
Yet another thing between them that completes & balances each other. Soukoku will always pull the other back when drifting too far.
So, of course, Soukoku complement each other & it benefits them both.
Having Kouyou on Chuuya’s other side I think also does help Chuuya stay grounded while in the mafia. Chuuya isn’t one to lose who he is but I think having someone else who he knows *cares* like he does helps.
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Now, additionally, if we apply this to Beast, I think this also says alot about beast Dazai & why Asagiri says beastzai would be the hardest for someone to portray.
Because *this* Dazai, is perhaps *too* far into his emotional side. He’s always intelligent but in beast, his actions aren’t fully logical, they’re emotional.
He appears cold & calculating as always but he saw another version of himself suffer the great loss of a best friend & allowed his emotional desire to prevent that from happening take control. Thus, his emotional side takes over, thus him covering the opposite side from canon Dazai, he’s covering his “logical” side.
I feel like this is the main difference between all the various Dazai we’ve seen.
PM Dazai relied heavily on his logical side, especially before meeting Chuuya. He rarely took emotion into account unless it involved the 3 people he actually cared for. We see him make emotional choices when it involves Chuuya, Oda, and Ango. Dazai did seem to let more and more emotion seep in over time as a result of knowing them, however, leading to that moment the bandages are removed.
Beastzai is leaning far too heavily into his emotional side, getting lost in it even. Acting solely on an emotional desire rather than a logical one. His desire to prevent a tragedy. He only was using his intellect to further that emotional desire.
Canonzai went through a steady progression, meeting Chuuya starts to open him up, this extending over time to Oda & Ango, leading to the cover on his “emotional” side being taken off.
But beastzai skipped all of that, all the *progression* to that point for canonzai & so beastzai just got all these intense emotions he never experienced before all at once when he saw canonzai’s memories & therefore he sunk far too deep, too quickly into his emotions.
Now current/ADA Dazai is the balance of the two extremes, and seemingly the closest to happiness.
ADA Dazai uses his logical brain as always but he also actually takes emotion into account as well and has more people he actually cares for now.
I think that says alot to the theme of bsd, leaning into that “everything is grey” dynamic. Everything is about the *balance* of things. Showcasing that anything in extremes in either direction doesn’t work.
Anyway, just some thoughts I had and interpretations of mine. Take them as you want, as always.
Oh and just to be clear, I don’t think Dazai was ever “emotionless”, even at his worse. Even if he was numb and apathetic. He was also lonely.
Just saying the more people he came to care about (Chuuya, Oda, Ango then later the ADA) the more he was able to feel a variety of emotion.
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sevs-corner · 12 days ago
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Tf 141: Mafia AU!
Chapter 1: “The rain falls but they fell harder”
{A/N: the unofficial part 1 to this brainrot series of minee🫡}
OG Post Links (if you want to read more crumbs of this slowly building brainrot of mine lol) from oldest to latest <33
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Preface:
It was right around fall when you got the news of been evicted out of your home- the reason being? Your roommate bailed and sold you out. Giving you only so much as a couple of hours to pack your things and leave as they had left too.
Luckily, your desperation was quenched when your co-worker happens to hear your ramblings during the night shift. With no choice but to accept, you accepted to take care of their place and move into the new city bustling in anxious steps. You could only live off your friend’s current supplies, so you needed to find a job fast.
"Turn left... turn left- WHERE?!" Almost feeling the urge to throw down the piece of paper your co-worker handed you earlier, you could only feel the pressure rise in your veins as heaved- trying an attempt to calm yourself-- seeing as how you got lost for the umpteenth time. The amount of turns you made in these wet streets and cuts through the alleyways made you quite hopeless in your situation.
A 'simple, turn right then left!' they said to you while handing the small folded note in your hands just in case. Besides having the direction written, it also had a weird doodle on the underside but paid no mind to it as you were more focused on the instructions of your co-worker, easily understanding it with no issue.
Yet it seems that you didn't as you stumble in front of a quaint...
"Bakery? Now how did I get here this time..."
The building in front of you was quite run down, but the words on the window were still quite visible despite the rain padding onto it . 'Homecooked goods,' it says in white cursive writing, which complemented the natural red bricked border. There were a couple plants that you took notice of wilting, making you frown quite a bit- knowing how, if they were given a bit of more loving, it would look quite beautiful and an even more attractive bakery.
Although you had to shake that thought away, deciding that it wasn't your objective coming into the bakery (yes, it was still equally important to you but finding your co-worker's place was more of an immediate concern.)
Knowing that you had lost all hope at this point, stumbling into so many dead ends that you decided to cut your losses, man up, and ask for directions around this place. For quite a well-known and popular town, this part of it was quite desolate.
Hence, when you started marching towards the bakery, you noticed how there were quite amount of similar cars out front. All black, sleek, fancy- wait... maybe this was a fancy bakery? Or not a bakery at all? What if you can't get any help or information from this place-?
"Johnny wasn't even- woah!"
At that moment, you happened to stop in front of the door and get hit right on the nose by the wood door and solar plexus punched by the quite fancy handle it was accompanied with.
"fUCKKKKKKKKK...." You swore silently, landing on your back and scattering all of your belongings as you clutched both your nose and stomach in (mostly shock) anguish with the person who gutted you mercilessly (accidentally) quickly asking if you were okay.
"Oh my- dearie, where are you hurt? I'm so sorry!"
You could feel the person talking, resting their hands on yours as it gently prodded yours away.
“Mighty careless of ya’, Garrick.” Someone jabs at the person you assumed had knocked you out.
“Ain’t a new sight to see LT?” The voices continues on while another replied with a grunt- which you are quick to piece together that there are three people now who had seen you land on your ass quite… gracefully.
“Oi,” another joins in, “what’s the hold up by the door? You’re bloody blockin’ the way.” A quite irritable one at that, you note.
“Sorry sir,” you hear the one besides you talk, “I accidentally hurt 'em when I opened the door.”
You hear another padding of footsteps as the one besides you shuffle away. You couldn’t see anything at the moment from how teary-eyed you were.
“Are you okay?” The newest voice grunts, right besides you, and you could smell the beer on his breath so you blanched away from him.
“I-i’m fine…” you managed to get out, albeit in quite a nasally tone as you pinched your nose to subside the pain.
“Doesn’t sound like it lassie,” the voice snickers and you turn to them with a closed-eye glare.
“Who are you to assume how much pain I’m in right now?!” You grumble in irritation, unable to control your emotions anymore for how shitty your day has been.
The straw that broke the camel’s back per se.
Lucky they were quick on the uptake.
“Can I see it?”
“Huh?”
You whipped your head to the other side, hearing the same voice that apologized to you.
“Can I check your nose?” He giggles, “Gotta know if we have to take you to the hospital or not.”
“No need to,” you insisted yet your hands fall to your side, letting the man to check it himself- which you had identified once your vision started clearing up from the tears.
"Shh, shh- no need for tears.." you felt a thumb rub at your cheeks gently, and you could barely make out the silhouette of the other man as he hushes you.
Bulky, scruffy beard, but was mostly covered the scarf around his neck, as well as the hat perched on top of his head- making it unable for you to see his entire visage.
"Seems nothing's broken," you hear the gentle man mumble to himself and you could feel yourself stiffen less.
"Thank fuck," you chuckled, "I don't have enough to get that fixed if it was."
"You wouldn't have to pay for it," he replies, eyes now staring at you with more... softness? If you had to make sense of it somehow.
"Why not?"
You stared at him as if you couldn't comprehend the intent behind his actions.
"'Cause he hurt you, lovie." The man, now clearer in your sight, explained- and his, 'oh his dark blue eyes' made you inherently stutter out a response.
"I-it's alright-- wasn't lookin' where I was going is all!" Your hands shake in front of you, widly shaking your head know as you show that you are unable to accept the generosity of the man. As much as you'd appreciate being treated to free healthcare- that seems too much for something that was a mistake (on your part mostly.)
"I insist," the kind gentleman insists, "I, too, was in deep conversation that I wasn't aware that somebody was on the other side of the door."
He grabs your hands, forcing them to calm down and for you to make eye contact with him- hoping that you would see the sincerity in them.
Yet all it did was make you more nervous, now seeing him in his entirety, from his clear cut jawline to how his eyes sparkled under the street light.
'Pretty.' is the first thought that comes into your head as you continue to be whisked away in the hues of the warm comforting--
"Let me help you up."
You yelp, feeling your arms being tugged (and your consciousness out of your thoughts) to a standing position, though from the sudden jerk you barely could catch yourself- sensing your self fall once more face first this time.
"Woah there!" You felt hands at your waist, steadying and grounding, as you feel the sudden rush of blood in and out of your head.
"Sorry," the kind man once again apologizes, "was that too fast?"
You sighed, unconsciously leaning your head against his chest, trying to calm the pounding in your head- "no, you're good."
"Dizzy?" You feel a warm hand on your forehead and you nodded again, thoughts now feeling a bit muddled from just about everything.
"think they caught a cold sir," another voice pipes in, the grumbly one from earlier.
"Seems like it," the mustache man replies, "got a place we can take you back to, lovie?"
"can't find it," your mumbles are barely audible from how muffled it was into the man's jacket and the patter of the rain on the sidewalk, yet they still caught on and looked at each other in confusion.
Odd and cryptic- was it because you knew them? Or you didn't want anyone knowing where you lived- especially with four strange big men at that.
Sighing, the bearded man signaled to the other side with a jerk of his head, "ask nonna and nonno if they can spare a room for the night."
"On it sir," the two responded with a quick nod, leaving as quickly as they had gone out.
"tell 'em I'll handle the lodging pay!" he follows up and they responded in affirmation again before he turns back to you, shivering up in his man's arms, looking quite defeated.
You looked like a kit left in the rain, and he felt that surge of sympathy of wanting to care for you- but he knows he can't. Not with a non-combatant and civilian, he thinks.
"Get 'em inside Garrick," he instructed and 'Garrick' responds with a soft, "yes sir" before mumbling to you and helping you move into the warm bakery.
The bearded man stayed outside, collecting your things until he saw paper jutting out of your bag, lines that were quite familiar. Checking if you were inside already, he could see Garrick bring you inside by the hand as you approached a fussy elderly couple, who quickly ushered you and Garrick up some stairs, deeper into the building.
Once he knew you were out of sight, he quickly grabs the paper and reads the words on it.
'Nothing of note,' he thinks then turns it around, eyes narrowing at the symbol draw at the underside.
"haven't seen this in a while..."
"Haven't seen what in a while sir?"
"Ghost," the bearded man regarded before passing the stuff he picked up into his arms, "we'll discuss it back at HQ."
Ghost nods and leaves to go back inside while another exited to join him.
"Did it come from 'em sir?" The shorter man asks, and the bearded man nods.
"Yes," he confirms, "but I do think its not from them specifically."
The other man hums, "sounds like we need to do some diggin' on 'em."
"we'll get more info from 'em once they wake." he grabs a smoke from his pocket before gesturing the other to light it for him. "Stay on post Soap."
"Aye sir," Soap salutes and watches him leave as he returns inside, doing as he was told.
You wake up with the gnarliest headache ever, that even if you did drink yourself blank out drunk- this would still take the cake of morning hangovers.
"Mornin' sleepyhead."
"the fuck?" You grumbled, throwing an arm over your eyes as you evade the sunlight by the window to spot a man by the doorway. He had quite a fancy fit on with the subtle floral pattern of a polo to the grey slacks with harnesses attached around his waist and thighs, gun holster by his hips but no gun in it.
"rough night?" he asks and you nod along, unsure of what happened to you- everything still quite a blur in your head, memories merging and dissipating the instant it comes popping up.
"our boss paid for your lodgin' here," he walks into the room and ends up at a chair by your bedside, "'compensation for his men' hurtin' ya last night, he says."
Hearing him say that made everything come into place, "you were the guys I bumped into at that bakery last night!"
You pointing at him in accusation made him chuckle and lean closer to you, yet that made you lean further away as you now realize the very trepid situation you were in.
"That's us alright," he hums, "are you still hurtin'?"
'oh,' you thought to youself, 'he was just checking if my nose was better.'
Embarrassment filled you at the insinuations that you made up in your head, as you assumed his intentions; hence, you had to look away from him- to save the little bit of dignity you had.
"no," you quickly snippet, "head's just heavy."
He clicks his tongue before standing and going to a desk, making you perk your eyebrows in confusion.
"well," you hear water being poured, "might be because you were burnin' high with a fuckin' fever in the rain."
He hands you the glass of cool water, "that's why."
You glare at him before chugging the water down, letting out a small burp while wiping the side of your mouth as you feel less parched than when you woke up.
Silence filled the room as you thought of how odd your situation was. No matter how accidental your meeting was- doing this much for a stranger was quite... well, strange is the best way to put it.
"Why're you guys concerned?" You finally managed to get out, despite the mess of thoughts you're having right now.
There was no malice behind your words, just simple curiosity and he could see it from how clear your eyes were of your intentions-- quite ironic from how much of a mess your brain was right now.
"boss felt responsible," you could hear the man chalk it up to that conclusion, "likes takin' care of people, that soft old chap."
You didn't quite catch the last part of his words as he mumbled it under his breath but you nodded anyways.
"That's quite kind of him," you softly spoke with your voice still hoarse, "can admit that it's hard to come by that kinda thing nowadays."
"I got lucky," you admitted, "please thank him for me."
The way you smiled made him pause for a second- it was genuine and so clear of its intent behind that it made his skin crawl and hair stand at the ends of his neck. He could feel his hand twitching to rub and his face and neck, so he let it- turning away from you as he reassured you that he would.
After a couple of more minutes, he tells you more details of your situation and you felt more grounded now, thanking him and his boss once again for looking out for you.
"No problem, sweets." he shoots you a grin- a quite silly and crooked one at that which made you return it in kind as you bid him farewell.
"Better get goin' huh..." you tell yourself as you picked yourself up from the bed and stretched, "still gotta ask and find out about where this place is..."
Yet as you look through your bag and all of its pockets, you noticed that the paper was missing, dumping the rest of out, you groan out- once more- in anguish at your situation.
"this is such a fucked up week!"
"how about we un-fuck it cara*?"
(A/N: *cara- Italian for 'beloved'/ 'dear')
And that wraps up the 1st chapter to this series!! Heads up, updates will be slow but feel free to hmu with ideas/ thoughts about the AU hehe (including my other ones too :>>)
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13curses · 7 months ago
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౨ৎ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐘! ✗ geto suguru (𝟏𝟖+)
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MDNI ⸝⸝ f!reader ⸝ creampie ⸝ unprotected sex ⸝ riding ⸝ suguru loves u so much ⸝ m!dom x f!sub ⸝ praise ⸝ dirty talk ⸝ implied multiple rounds, cunnilingus & cum eating
synopsis ꒱ your first time riding suguru. ᡣ𐭩 wc ꒱ 1.7k
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you've been meaning to moan out your readiness for riding him long before the orgasm he's just yielded from you, but the post-climax cooldown made you huff, puff, then whimper shyly. suguru immediately adjusted to your command: he removed his sticky cock, creating a sopping sound as it was soaked from the mixture of both your arousals.
pulling you into his lap, suguru holds you by the fat of your ass as you kneel on the crumpled bedsheets. a flush goes by your cheeks. you have yet to get used to the feeling of being atop, and you're currently processing it by avoiding eye contact — on the other hand, you're clinging onto suguru's vast shoulders for dear life.
“go on, little one.” he squeezes your flesh, “sink.”
a loud swallow elevates down your throat as you pant. the two of you are sex-crazed, so if you don’t begin the second round soon, he’s surely driving you back to the mattress, drilling into your clammy hole. your pussy is throbbing from having just been used and from the emptiness.
“fuck— mkay.” you exhale, readjusting your position.
in the meantime, your slick is dripping onto suguru’s thighs in strings. for moral support, you lean forward to exchange an untidy kiss, lips creating the wet noise your gummy walls should be designing. any moment now.
“guide me?” you mewl, the sound producing a twitch in his cock.
his hands travel up your lower back, a reassuring caress subduing his carnal drives.
“'f course, baby, how could i not?”
he’s so cocky, but only ‘cause he knows you’re as lustful as him. if you were to back out, he’d be perfectly happy to fuck you in any position that requires you to be below. you scurry closer, and as his tip brushes against your folds, you let out a bewitching moan. you hug suguru’s upper back and he embraces your smaller frame with so much confidence: he’s convinced his baby’s going to do a great job from the get-go.
“that’s it— take me, baby. y’know my cock fits her perfectly, especially when she’s dripping.”
the double-meaning refers to your watery arousal and the load he’s given you.
“it’s not g’na be any different, yeah? just sink, sweetheart.”
his words send a shiver down your spine, your knees buckle, hence your composure is damned. you’re low enough to make suguru feel your hole pulsate with need. his groan echoes in your eardrums.
“fuuuck— sugu—“ your eyebrows clinch, and before you could hover over his shaft, he guides your hips to stay centered. caving in, your legs split further apart.
suguru’s enchanted everytime he witnesses you taking him. he scans your folds splaying across his cock as you descend, eyes far from your hips which he’s controlling. a jack of all trades.
“thaaat’s it..”
your dampness has you sliding down in seconds, half of him already stretching you out. the feeling isn’t strange, the position is; you bite your bottom lip, craving a reassuring glance from suguru. he blinks slowly then meets your eye, full of thirst. he displays an intoxicated grin, pulling you closer by your flexed shoulder blades. suguru rests his chin on your sternum, looking up at you with obsession.
“'s that all, angel?” he taunts, drawing a whimper out of you.
“n–no.. lemme jus'..”
suguru shuts up and before you could use your remaining thinking skills, he’s peppering your neck with warm kisses. you look down to meet his half-lidded gaze. akin to an illusionist, he’s got you dropping on your knees. the fulfillment has got your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, but you must rest your face on his shoulder.
“what a good fuckin' girl.” he praises, caressing your back with a wieldy hand, the other rounded around your thigh. “now– you need to start moving f' me, okay, my angel? make yourself feel good.”
“'n you.” you add, dainty.
a low, but known and sweet chuckle escapes him.
“and me, yeah, but you know i could cum from just your tightness, while we need to hit all your sensitive little spots.”
his hot breath rouses your skin. you straighten your seat, and like you think you’re supposed to do you place your palms on his shoulders. keeping each other close, your breasts stick to his chest. suguru’s hands are cupping your ass once again, ready to control as much of the ride as you need him to. you begin to move rotationally, feeling him up from above. he doesn’t take his watchful gaze off of you, no, he’s comforting you with every carnal glance.
“that’s iiit,” he licks his lips, dry from keeping them agape. his unruly, significant bangs fall on his temple, somehow heightening his attractiveness. seeing him so supportive and sensual gives the pit of your belly a feeling like you’re getting off to his sight.
that feeling advises you to start ebbing, controlling suguru’s cock inside you. the ongoing discovery of this sensation brings a fucked out, dim smile on your face. you yearn to move faster, pants hitching at the cardio.
“slow down,” suguru restraints your hips. “bounce more on me.”
you nod among heavy breaths, wrapping arms around his neck to fix your motion. he places a kiss between your boobs, complimenting you delicately, “get going, precious.”
once he’s stopped you from writhing like pace matters over flexibility, his cock encounters the sweet bump deep within your core. your body jolts in a pleasant shock and a deprived cry escapes your throat.
“oh my gosh— yes! yes!”
suguru holds you by your upper thighs, his knuckles technically a seat for your jiggling ass, looking up at you infatuated.
“yeah? yeah? feels better?”
you can exclusively respond in wails.
“haah–ah! sugu~♡!!”
the sound of your flooding juices echoes off the four walls, not to mention your boobs rising then falling with every pounce. he’s your biggest fucking fan and the correct rhythm composing a cross-eyed, serene view of your face goes straight into his dick. it jerks as much as it can in your narrow, suffocating walls, but it’s enough to make you arch your spine and almost close your legs.
“fuuuck—” he curses, hoarse, “i’m too close���ah fuck!” he moans, lips shaping an O, brows drawing near.
he tries to delay his climax by focusing on seperating your thighs, but alas… they’re gorgeous. spasming every bounce due to your hard work, sweat overlayered with rolls of your wetness, and he’s boring his digits into the flesh, and shit, is that a runnel of his seed from the last round? you’ve kept it so warm inside you that it hasn’t dried and is now splashing out of your cunt?
he can’t avoid the thought of filling you up once more.
“fu–uuck, i have to—ah! you’re doin' so well, doll.. brought me so close, so quick—mmph–!”
you put your hands on his oh-so-firm ones that are arraying veins now. you grip his wrists for balance you have yet to master.
“suguru…” you purr, blinking through blurred lashes to clear your vision, soft whines interrupting your conversation, “c-come.”
he wants to ask back, but he can merely moan in unison with you. your breathing accelerates, and his hold on you travels up your body, stopping at your ribs, thumbs pressing your underboobs. your tempo is behaving so well within his hand placement. you want to compliment it by tracing his hands with yours, but the tightening coil in your stomach has you gasping and circling right back to holding onto his tense shoulders.
suguru’s first orgasm from his pretty baby bouncing on him. he tilts his head back, grits his teeth and plummets upward with his hips, diving into your cervix with a satiated moan. his semen spurts into you, unpausable. his cock was thick enough, but the additional bulky liquid extends the bulge in your lower tummy. certainly, you can’t contain so much while hopping like a bunny in heat to reach your high, so a lot of his white drips out of you, creating cobwebs that thread from your slit to suguru’s crotch.
“s-suguru!! sugusugusugu—“ you repeat desperately, overworking your more than sore thighs. your windblown hair falls onto your face, stuck by sweat, but you do not care how messy and inexperienced you are, you must relieve the knot in your belly.
“'m coming, i’m coming, mwaah— i’m g’na—!”
“cum for me, yeah, give it all t' suguru, go on, pretty baby.” suguru promotes, and the first wave of your orgasm crashes through you in jerks, your back hunches as you embrace suguru.
he embraces you with his massive arm, fucking up into you with long, womb-reaching thrusts to help you through your climax. he has to force you down before you elevate from his dick, unfamiliar with the best way to curve yourself when on top.
“sweet baby~ hold on jus' a little longer. that’s it, fuck me through it, baby love.. yeah, so fuckin' good.”
clamping down on him, a series of sobs overcome you. you nestle to suguru’s face with yours, grinding uncontrollably through the ridges of your release. suguru strokes each knob of your spine with such care, you could fall asleep after the very last tremors of your orgasm finish. you pant in sync, your vocals filled with sensitive whimpers.
palms on his torso, you balance yourself on his heaving chest.
“hnn~ was i any good..?”
suguru scans you like you’re a goddess, listing kisses on your throat and jawline.
“stunning. you did so, so right, sweet little thing.”
you respond in a mewl, brushing his cheek with your nose as you turn your head to swap sloppy kisses.
“i’ve yet to train you, heh,” he adds between tastes of your tongue.
“mmh, not yet, please..” you plead, but you imply another round, during which you’d love to be underneath.
“we have time.” suguru purrs, sickeningly sweet, “besides, i’ve got to reward my favorite girl.”
he pulls your fold with his thumb while the rest of his fingers push on your bladder, causing his cream to ooze out of you, glistening in the moonbeam.
“suguru’s favorite~?”
“mhm. his favorite, with a cherry on top.”
you’re not sure if he’s referring to you or your pussy. either way, he’s about to eat you out until the sheets are pooled with the juices of you both.
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successfulgoddess333 · 1 month ago
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Shifting💕
This life we’re currently living is the “3D”
This 3D is like
A three dimensional shape
Like a cube etc
In other words it’s physical
(The world is not a cube I hope you get my comparison tho💀)
The only real reality is the 4D because
It created THIS ONE
You’re a master manifestor already
You speak things into existence unintentionally
We humans are more powerful than this fragile shell we are built in
Your subconscious mind is on a level your body and not even this reality
Can compete with
If you’re unfamiliar with shifting
Shifting is the process of shifting your awareness to another reality
Hence the name “Reality Shifting”
But shifting isn’t new it’s been done for decades in other cultures
Way before our time
You’ve got experts like Neville Goddard and trained professionals on YouTube
Who all say the same thing we explain to you on here
It is indeed real and not some thing a bunch of teens created on TikTok in 2020
It is definitely not a trend
It’s something we all know how to do
Here’s how you shift
There’s a lot of methods but I’m not giving you any
You don’t need them
Stop putting power in a subliminal
A tumblr post a person from a video
Telling what method helped them
Bitch the power comes from YOU
When will you learn?
The key to shifting
The key to the void state
The key to Astral projection
The key to success in general or any out of body experiences
Literally comes from
You
Your mind
Which is why I say
Your mind is the most powerful thing there is
It can take you to alternate realities
Experience oob(out of body) experiences
Meditation
Manifestation etc
And what’s the most your physical body can do?
React
The 3D is filed with nothing but results and reactions
The 4D is the mastermind
It’s the one causing the results of this reality
And who’s in control of that
You areeeeee
Your mind doesn’t control you
You control it
You already know how to shift etc
All you need to do
Is lay still
Mind awake body asleep technique
Affirm
There’s not much to it
You’re always shifting
Think about it
If you’re reading this and someone calls you and interrupts you
You shifted
Because there’s an alternate reality where that didn’t happen and you’re still reading this
Another reality where you’re reading this but maybe backwards who knows
There’s infinite realities
Everything you do is a shift and don’t ever feel shitty about Sps
You’re just shifting to a reality where that person is yours and has always loved you it’s not magic it’s not against their will
There’s a reality right now where your celebrity crush or real life crush
Is your soulmate
There’s a reality where you’re allowed to eat whatever you want and never gain a pound
Life is not limited
Only in a reality where physicality is the superior factor is when it becomes limiting
Because we think we can’t do certain things
Maybe not here
That’s why we shift
There’s even things you could do here that’s out of the ordinary
The Universe is powerful it’s been here for yearssssss and nobody knows the truth behind it
Or everything in it
So if we came from something that literally created asteroids and planets etc
What makes you think WE don’t have some type of power?
We inherited it from the universe or you could say God if that’s what you believe
(All respect here)
Just like we inherited our traits from our parents
The universe is our first parent
We are little powerful minded creatures living in a limited reality
But reality shifting is definitely real
You’re not mentally unstable or schizophrenic for believing in shifting
It’s 100% real
Don’t ask me or anyone
To shift or manifest it anything for you
You’ve got a subconscious mind too
Use it
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novy2sirius · 3 months ago
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SPIRITUAL NOTES BY NOV ༉‧₊˚.༄
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As I’ve talked about before, colors have vibrational energy. Certain colors are better for certain energies. For example, 1 life paths should avoid wearing red. 1’s are the biggest targets for corruption and lust so wearing red will only enhance that even more. Too much lust can be damaging to your root chakra
Wearing orange projects confidence (can make you come off more confident which is attractive to most people). Orange can also be a good color for home decor (orange lighting, lamps, etc)
Purple is a good color for protection (especially spiritual protection). You could simply visualize a purple aura/energy around you for protection if you feel you need it. Visualizing this color can also help you solve problems if you’re currently facing any
Eating pomegranates cleans your pineal gland and can help purify it. Thus, helping you become more spiritually connected and giving you more vivid dreams. Sleeping in complete darkness and Vitamin D are also a good way to wake up your pineal gland
5-9 minutes before your enemy hour in vietnamese astrology you have extreme luck. If you don’t know what your enemy hours in viet astro are then you can look at my post about them here
In my personal opinion focusing on numerology is way more powerful than moon phases will ever be. Both are important and powerful tools though
Blue is the matrix’s favorite color and intertwined with the matrix. Blue often puts people at ease and comfort which is why it’s often everyone’s favorite color. If you’re about to go into an intense environment where you’re not sure if others are that trusting of you, wear blue. “Feeling blue” actually isn’t a negative thing. It represents your return to nature spiritually (especially the ocean, rivers, lakes, etc). Staring up at a clear blue sky can make you feel better
In numerology things are pillar to pillar when it comes to compatibility. To check if you’re compatible with someone you go life path number to life path number, day number to day number, month number to month number, year number to year number, attitude number to attitude number, etc. In other words life path is not the only thing that can show enemy energy or friend energy, but is most important when it comes to compatibility
11 has a lot of good attributes, but a negative trait of the numerical energy is terror. Scary things can happen under 11 energy. I don’t recommend going on roller coasters, flying, going on a cruise, etc under this energy
Red is not the color of love like people make it seem. It’s actually the color of lust. Hence the root chakra being red and the heart chakra being green. The people higher up just want us at a lower vibration, so they can have power over us and when someone is overly lustful they will be
Wearing red a lot has its ups and downs. It can make you come off sexually attractive to people and make them lust over you and it can make people addicted to you, but wearing it too often can actually attract conflict or aggressive energy to your life. We often see red used negatively in society like in hospital logos, police sirens, etc but often when you see red a lot it’s more so a sign from the matrix to pause and analyze the situation around you carefully. Note: Even when people are attracted to you when you wear red it isn’t a long lasting effect (just like lust in general is temporary, the opposite of love)
Master numbers are usually smart and very spiritually connected, but the one’s that aren’t can be dangerous to be around. They may drain your energy
Our energy can be drained in this matrix. We are like the batteries for the simulation. You have to be careful who you surround yourself with because of this
DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 - A lot of the traps to take our energy in the matrix are sex related since sex is a gateway to earth (through women). You must be careful. P*rn is one of them. When men finish through masturbation to p*rn their energy can be taken by negative entities. When women finish to p*rn they can absorb the negative energy of negative entities during that time. Women absorb energy and men push out sexual energy. These negative energy vampires only come around during this time (they’re obviously not visible to the human eye). P*rn is really bad for you spiritually because of this. Masturbation is not though and is healthy for you spiritually if it is something you do about 5 times a month. Doing it too much can be bad though. Semen retention doesn’t actually do anything spirituality that’s the placebo affect doing its work. Shows how powerful our minds and thoughts are. Anyway, if you’re not someone who’s spiritual there’s also many studies done that talk about p*rn being horrible for your mind
Green is the most important color to earth. Snakes have green eyes which is why they can see a lot of things others can’t (people with the viet sign). This applies to people with green eyes in general as well
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elsweetheart · 1 year ago
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crystal champagne glasses — bodyguard!abby au
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synopsis: when reader, the millionaires daughter can’t help but misbehave — Abby the no nonsense bodyguard is hired to live in the mansion.
♪ every man gets his wish — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪
cw: fem reader, mentions of money / money problems, overprotective parents, mentions of loss of a parent (not reader), daddy issues lol, sprinkle of mommy issues too, alcohol and drinking, tiny mention of being sick, reader working out mentions, brat tamer abby lol, size kink, reader cries and gets humiliated and angry a lot lol, degradation, masturbation, strap on sex, think that’s it?
an: i had so much fun writing this! this is the quickest i’ve ever written a fic, i think because i’ve been excited to write this one and planning it for ages! now, if you don’t like my writing please click off now. no one is forcing you to read my fics. to all the people who have been excited for this fic, ily and i hope you enjoy it! as always, minors + ageless blogs do not interact with this or any posts / fics of mine. you will be blocked! ♡
You weren’t a princess. You were not a princess. You wished you were, shit — maybe your parents would actually care about you. Unfortunately though, there was no royalty behind your name. Just two millionaire parents who would apparently rather be anywhere else but at home with you.
You had your own hobbies, friends, a life — back at home. But of course, if you had so much as wanted to leave the mansion to partake in such activities, such as socialising (God forbid!) you’d need an escort, a driver, secret security officers stalking you, creeping out all of your friends and more. After a while it just became… not worth it. So you stopped showing up, stopped hanging out with people — and understandably, your invite to meeting up with friends started to get supposedly lost in the post. Things get lonely fast.
Bitterness was hardly the word for it. You understood your circumstances and if you were anything it wasn’t ungrateful. Your father only wanted you to be safe, hence the dozens of hired body guards in and out (But you’ll get back to that in a moment, of course.) Your friends just assumed you didn’t wanna hang out anymore, hence the missed invites. You had only started misbehaving out of bitterne— no, not bitter. Pissed off. Rightfully.
You always felt dread when you saw the answer machine light up red with a new message from the only person who had the number — your father. Where on Earth could he be calling from this time? Perhaps lounging by the pool in Greece or dining at a rooftop garden in Dubai — experiencing the world and bravely taking a moment out of his incredibly busy day to drop you a patronising and vaguely threatening voicemail. Atleast he spoke to you, unlike your mother who’d much rather pretend you didn’t exist because, and you quote, the stress of your misbehaviour ‘gave her wrinkles.’ Your manicured finger hovered over the button before pressing down, huffing out your nose as you stared out at the morning fog over the grassy hills of your land.
‘Good morning darling, dad calling again. You keep missing my calls, which I assume is on purpose so I’m leaving you a message anyways. I’m currently in Amsterdam with your mother and I just caught wind of Malakai the bodyguard quitting ‘suddenly and abruptly’ according to one of the maids. I’ve told you once and I will tell you again, if you don’t stop harassing the guards and forcing them to quit you will be in serious trouble. I mean cut off completely, sent off to work in the city with no more than a shitty little apartment and no money. So, I have decided to give you one last chance. I’ve purchased a bodyguard to live in with you starting Sunday morning so you’re going to have to fend for yourself until then. I searched high and low for this one, apparently they specialise in poorly behaved brats like yourself — so I’m hoping if anything that will whip you into shape. You’ve been through five bodyguards this year and it’s February. I’m serious about my threats. Step a foot out of line and you’re done, your mother and I are deadly serious. I will be calling the new hire at the end of next week to check in on your behaviour. Do not let us down darling, you will regret it. Okay, that’s all. See you when I see you.’
You smile.
Oh, how sometimes things just worked out. A life of your own, with normality and struggle and freedom — no watchful eye breathing down your neck and no lack of purpose weighing down on you. Your father had presented you with the easiest task, piss off the new hire so that you’d be set free. A task you’d grown to perfect, having done so time and time again.
The crackle of wheels on the gravel path leading up to the mansion awakens you on the Sunday morning. You want to grumble, having gotten literally no sleep. You see, you were terribly afraid of the dark — and you couldn’t sleep without your guard having light the fire in the fireplace of your bedroom (The one use you found for the hired help.) You had no idea how to light it and didn’t trust yourself not to burn the house down — so you went without. Hence the awful nights sleep. Where were you? Yes, curious. Rudely awakened and curious.
Your short nightie does nothing to combat the cool morning chill as you get up from the bed, letting your bed covers slide off your body as you traipse over to your window. A black Range Rover, they’re all the same. All the same angry men that drive the same angry car, with the same angry build and the same angry face. You scoff at the memory of your fathers threat on the voice message, stating that this guard was to be anything you weren’t used to before. You knew it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.
Except, you were caught off guard when the door opens. You watch a woman climb out the car, despite the vehicles spacious design she still seemed to unfold like she was inflatable as she climbed out — almost seeming too big for even a car like that. She was built, strong arms and chest, tree trunk thighs and veiny hands. You narrow your eyes at the black sunglasses perched on the bridge of her jagged nose, taking them off as she looks around with a serious expression. She was attractive, you’d admit — but in a way that made you cross. That stupid skin tight black t-shirt and black cargos and thick weighty belt around her waist told you everything you needed to know about her. The militant type, she was going to try and intimidate you with her seriousness. You smirk, seeing this as a challenge. She has no idea what she’s up against.
You rush down the spiral stairs at the sound of her lugging her bags inside. She flicks her braid over her shoulder to glance at you standing there analytically as she does so, biceps bulging as she lifts the heavy black cases into the centre of your foyer stood beneath the chandelier. She looked much too harsh for somewhere delicate like this.
“I take it you aren’t going to introduce yourself.” She speaks after a moment of sorting her bags, closing the front door to signify she was done bringing her things inside. You cling to the tall bannister, toeing the cold pristine marble floor, eyeing her and her things as if each bag had a bomb inside. She stands up to her full height, atleast breaching the 6ft margin and you squint, watching her stretch her arms to relieve herself from the weight of the bags. “Off to a great start already.” She retorts as you ignore her, her long legs stepping over a black duffle bag on the floor toward you.
“Why are your bags so heavy?” You ask quietly, less curious and more judgemental. Who did she think she was moving in here with all that stuff? She takes a long inhale, accenting the muscle in her chest as she places her hands on her hips. Her reply is calm and unbothered.
“I brought my weights with me, and lots of other things I need to stay in my condition. Do you have a name?” Her voice is velvety and more feminine than you expected. Your stomach gets hot and prickly at the sound.
“You know my name. I can bet anything my father told you everything about me infact.” You jut your chin up stubbornly. It’s her turn to analyse now, tilting her head a little to the side as she leans on her hip, eyeing you once over and then again.
“Yeah. Your dad was kind enough to tell me all about you and how you treated your past bodyguards. But when you first meet someone, you introduce yourself. So introduce yourself.” There is a slight bite to your tone and your eyes flutter a bit. You’re used to men being agitated with you, infact you thrive off it— but you’ve never had a woman guard before. Something about the harsh tone hurt you just that little more. Shit, maybe you just had mommy issues.
You mutter your name, eyes laser focused on her clinging to the last shred of dignity you had — but when she gives you a curt nod and an equally quiet ‘There you go’ it perishes in the wind like a dying leaf crumbling away for winter. She turns, looking around at her bags before reaching over for the smallest one. “I’m Abby. As you probably guessed, I’m your new bodyguard.” She walks over to you and holds out the bag. You look at her and then at the bag, and then back at her.
“What am I supposed to do with this, Abby?” You cross your arms with a raised brow.
“You’re gonna carry it to my new room for me. I’m a guest in your home.” She raises her eyebrows, waving the bag infront of you signally for you to take it.
You stare at her in disbelief, before laughing bitterly. “You’re right. You’re a guest in my home. So I’m not carrying shit.” You spin on your heel to stomp up the stairs, but she cuts you off by speaking calmly yet firmly.
“Then you can sleep in the dark.”
You turn back around slowly, wearing a frown that creases your brow. How did she know about that?
“I spoke to some previous guards of yours. Said you were terrified of the dark and needed a fire lit in your room every night. Y’wanna sleep in dark? Or you wanna help me carry my bags?”
You stare her down for a moment, weighing out your options. She’d already dominated the conversation by getting your name out of you so easily, and now she was winning again. However, you were exhausted just from one night of restlessly pacing with your light on — too afraid to turn it off and go to sleep. You needed your sleep. That being said, you scowl and snatch the bag from her hand, the leather of it slapping against your leg as you carry it up the spiral stairs.
“Atta girl.”
You clench your jaw.
The week begins, and as do your antics. Abby wasn’t easily wound up, but that only made you want to go ten times harder. She was a bodyguard, not a babysitter — but she was starting to feel like her duties were beginning to cross wires. She knew your game, knew you were aiming for something — she could see the determination in your eyes everytime you’d sass her back. So, she’d play you back. Not give into what you want.
Her first real duty came on a Wednesday when she was lounging in the living room watching some God awful 2000s police chase show, and in came you — tottering on little heels and a skirt so short and tight she could tell the colour of your thong beneath. Not that she was looking, of course.
She leant her arm on the back of the couch, eyes flitting over you as you rummage for the keys that you were sure had been left by the maid on the coffee table. “Going somewhere?” It comes out nearly as a scoff, smirk etched onto her face and it makes you roll your eyes.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Out with my friends. The ones that still talk to me.” You’re distracted, pulling your small handbag back up onto your shoulder when it slides off, free hand feeling around in a decorative bowl for the key set. Abby stares at you for a moment, which — okay, is a little indulgent. She wasn’t being a creep, she could just appreciate that you looked good. Before you could turn to throw a glare her way she was muttering an ‘alright’ and heaving her heavy, toned body up to stand and stretch.
You turn and look at her questioningly and she stops to return your gaze. “What? You think I’m just living here with you for fun? C’mon, if you wanna go let’s go.” She nods towards the door, but stops after a few steps when she hears you snicker.
“No thanks. I’m a big girl.”
She crosses her arms and the smirk that makes you wanna throw darts at her stupid face returns. “That right? You think daddy just hired me to hang out around the house, then?”
You stare at her, pursing your lips before exhaling through your nose wordlessly — walking towards the door in defeat. You just wanted to go out, it had been so long. You’re sure you could just ignore Abby.
She follows behind you, now swinging her car keys round her finger — so smug. “How were you planning on getting to the club? You live in the middle of nowhere.”
“Uber.”
It’s her turn to snicker, opening the front door for you and standing aside as you walk through. “Yeah. Okay. C’mon.”
Screw her. Because now, for some reason she was in your head.
Maybe you just had a few… weaknesses. You always liked your girls on the masc side, on the buff side — but that was a given. Who isn’t attracted to that, right? However, watching hot girls drive was something else, and Abby was being that something else. You know— hand on the back of your seat when she reverses, bicep bulging when she grips the wheel of her sleek car, the lights of the night time traffic illuminating the way her top lip curled upwards a little and bottom lip pouted. You felt a little relief, knowing it was one hundred percent the wine talking. The wine you’d probably drank a little too much of whilst you were getting ready, playing your music and singing along loudly just hoping it was annoying Abby (It wasn’t, she didn’t even hear.)
Ignoring her would start after the car journey you decided.
And you did, for the most part. Abby gave you your space, sitting a few seats away from your group whilst you had your fun — headache inducing squeals and brain numbing chatter over loud music and strong cocktails not quite interesting the blonde. She was driving, and working — so she couldn’t drink, just sat there all night bored out of her mind. She probably should have been monitoring how many drinks you’d had over the night, because soon you were stumbling off your seat to go and dance— and Abby’s hands were itching to pull your skirt down just a little, the hem climbing up to the swell where your thighs meet your ass. She sits back, just watching. She was here to protect you, not be your personal wardrobe malfunction manager — so that’s what she’d do. Sit back and protect.
God, did you always dance like this when you went out?
She felt her fist twitch on the table at the sight of your hips swirling, but she knew that was just a natural gay reaction. She should probably order you a glass of water, so you could sober up and tone down the sluttyness but she figured she’d let you have your fun for now— you may have been too far gone. Abby wished she was holding a beer or something whilst she stared across at the way you were grinding your ass into your friends crotch, the two of you giggling like idiots all hazy eyed from the liquor.
After a while you amble over to her, everything bouncing and spilling out but you clearly don’t give a fuck. Your guard is caught off guard when you come close, alcohol having decimated any concept of personal space as you lean over to speak to her where she’s sat, bent over with your hands splayed on her black jean clad thighs.
She tries to be subtle in the way she eyes you, her tongue peeping between her lips and eyes widening momentarily at the perfect shot of down your top. “I can’t hear you.” She yells over the music. You come closer and nearly topple onto her completely, Abby’s hands by nature resting on the back of your thighs as you now grip her shoulders. Briefly, she wonders if at a glance anyone thinks the two of you are a couple. She shakes it off ‘cos… you’re still a brat. Hot or not.
“I said, can I go to the bathroom or are you gonna follow me?” You pull back to make sure she’s seeing you attempt to pointedly raise an eyebrow at her, something you would have perfected usually if you were sober.
“Take a friend.” She nods to your most sober looking buddy and you shrug happily, pushing off her and grabbing your toilet partner and rushing off. She was kind of glad you were gonna be out of her sight for a moment, needing to cool off.
She wasn’t sure what happened after that. Abby was getting bored and tired, dropping the ball a little bit — and you must have been sneaking drinks from your friends when she wasn’t looking — because suddenly you were way too drunk, barely able to stand. Enough was enough when she watched you stumble over to the bar, heading to assumably get yourself another drink. Abby followed you, gently taking your arm and turning you around.
“Hey, no more. You’re blacked out.”
Your face screws up into this adorable little pout for a moment before the rage kicks in, brow creasing and fists clenching by your side.
“C’n dooo what I waant. Dompt tell meee what to do.” You thud her in the centre of her chest with your finger, slurring enough to the point where Abby was confident the bartender wouldn’t have served you anyway.
“No. Finish up, you need to go home.” She was stern, and as expected — this garnered the worst possible response, baring your teeth like a dog and digging your heels into the ground like you were about to pounce on her. You exploded into noise.
“Nnno! Fuck you you stupid securererty guard I can’t wait to get rid of youn’d be independent this is such buuullshi—” Your rampage was cut short by Abby sighing, squatting, and throwing you over her shoulder. Her free hand came up without thought, tugging your skirt down to not expose you to the world. You thrashed and yelled for a good ten seconds before giving in completely — by standers and your friends laughing as Abby marched you to the exit. You were asleep by the time she reached the car, and briefly woke up when she’d carried you to bed to demand her to light the fire place. The fear of the dark must have ran incredibly deep, interesting — she noted.
Abby thought that maybe you’d appreciate her cutting your drinks off and halting any further plans to embarrass yourself that night— but she came to learn that if she thought you were bad usually, you with a hangover was ten times worse. If waking up to the sounds of your loud upchuck wasn’t bad enough, you were a whiny, angry bitch relentlessly all day.
“I’m not your servant you know. Stop asking me to do things for you.” Abby walked in with a glass of water and Tylenol upon request, being met with a loud groan instead of a ‘thank you’.
“Do you have to fucking yell everything?” You complain, ironically — louder than her.
She was tired by the end of the day, beginning to wonder if the pay was enough to tolerate your brattiness. Abby had gained a reputation for dealing with difficult clients, perhaps diva-esque or ill-mannered, but often it wasn’t anything a stern talking to couldn’t fix, often intimidated by her height and build enough to shut them up after a few quips. You were effortlessly becoming one of, if not the most difficult and tiresome clients to crack, but she was determined. If Abby was anything, she wasn’t a quitter — which is why when your father called to check in on you, she told him you’d been good as gold, which earned her a glare from you when you’d overheard the whole thing on the way to the bathroom.
You were back to your regular level of shitty behaviour the next day, less whiny and more sarcastic and bitchy which she could tolerate. However, after a month had gone by Abby was finding the irritation harder and harder to control— especially since you had developed an ever so charming habit of putting on your headphones every single time Abby tried to tell you to do something or talk to you in general.
“Like I told you, I’m a bodyguard — not a babysitter. Stop leaving your—” She bounded into the room, stopping when she saw you look her in the eye and pull your headphones over your head, pressing play on your screen to start your music. Abby stares for a few seconds, taking a breath, telling herself to walk away. Be a bodyguard and nothing else. She ignores this, wound up— and moves to stand in front of you, clicking her fingers. Cheekily, you point to your headphones — mouthing a faux-apologetic ‘sorry!’. The blonde scoffs, wondering why she’s entertaining this in the first place and reaches up to yank the headphones off your head, but freezes at your sudden wide eyed yelp.
“Don’t touch me I’ll tell my dad and you’ll get fired!” It’s rambled out, fast and premeditated — like you’d thought of it already and had been waiting to put it to use. Abby glances down at your alight screen, noting the music as paused and wonders if you were ever playing music or was just doing this to bother her. She lowers her hand, because — well, she’s not an asshole — instead turning her palm upwards in gesture to hand them over.
“Headphones. Give them to me.”
“No.”
“Give them to me or I’m not lighting the fire in your room tonight.” She stares you down and you sulk, shoulders dropping and brows furrowing in devastation. Abby would have felt bad if you weren’t such a menace.
You stroppily yank the headphones off your head and hand them over, muttering profanities furiously under your breath as you turn away from her, sprawled on the couch. Your guard nods, disappearing to put them away before leaving you be — heading to the kitchen to make her afternoon smoothie. The sound of her chopping fruit sparked rage in you all over again at how at home she had made herself, and after a minute you were storming in again— bare feet slapping the cold tiles.
“Back for more?” Abby is calm now, content as she focuses on slicing into a banana.
“You can’t threaten me with my fears you know, that’s emotional and psychological abuse. You’re taking advantage of my fears to be in control like — like a coward. Trust me I studied psychology out of a book, I know my stuff.” You stand beside her ranting as she raises her eyebrows with a calm smile, nodding as she listens and finishes up chopping her fruit, beginning to load them into the— your blender.
“Oh? Smart girl then huh?” She teases and you huff, jutting your chin in the air confidently with an ‘mhm’ before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen island counter, deciding to stick around for a while to pester her.
“Very. You could probably learn a thing or two from me.”
Abby twists her body half around in amusement, a mocking expression of being impressed adorning her attractive face. She closes the lid to the blender, keeping one hand on it as she speaks.
“‘That so? Go ahead, tell me what possibly I could learn from you, smart girl.”
Ignoring how ‘smart girl’ made you feel in your underwear, you only a manage a “Well first of all—” before she’s turned the blender on, the loud whirring masking any sound coming from you despite your attempts to yell over it for a few seconds. She nods teasingly, as if she was listening to what you were saying and you huff, giving up. You were usually a master in being annoying, but Abby was giving you a run for your money.
You hop back off the counter, muttering a ‘Big blonde stupid asshole.’ as you storm out the room and Abby lets go of the blend button, snickering to herself and yelling out a non committal ‘I heard that!’ after you.
The following day she had taken you to buy groceries after you’d complained that you’d wanted to do it yourself — Abby, following you around as you loaded up your cart, every so often remembering your duty to annoy her and hitting her with something along the lines of ‘I want my headphones back.’ which would be met with a disinterested ‘Tough luck.’ on her end. You couldn’t believe that she’d been living in your home for one month and you still hadn’t gotten under her skin. Perhaps that’s why the next day you’d let your guard down.
It was the first sunny day of March, the grassy hills in which the mansion sat on still harbouring that frosty bite to the air from winter — but pink blossoms had began to spring on the bushes and trees and the sky was blue, which instantly lifted your mood just that little bit.
You were curled by the large window that morning, still in your pyjamas and holding a mug beneath your chin, gazing out at the bright grass. When Abby had entered the room, she was surprised to hear you gently comment that “The weathers nice today.” — a rare sentence that wasn’t defying or insulting her. Abby looked over to you, noting your peaceful demeanour and deciding to carefully toe the line.
“Do you wanna… go outside today?” She suggested, something the two of them could possibly do together. She almost grimaced, waiting for you to curse her out like usual but instead you paused quietly for a few seconds before responding.
“I can introduce you to the horses.” With that, you hopped off the window seat and disappeared to get dressed. When you returned, your hair was in tidier condition and you wore a dress made for summer with only a thick knit cardigan over the top. She itched to tell you it was still way too cold to dress like that, but figured she didn’t wanna aggravate you before you’ve even made it out the door. Today was the day Abby would get through to you.
You were quieter than usual, assumably worn out and in higher spirits due to the sunshine. You’d received the horses as a gift on your sixteenth birthday — but due to the cold weather and outright depression you hardly rode them anymore, instead making sure they lived a healthy and luxurious life on your land and fed the best foods by their handler (mainly out of guilt.) Abby could tell you’d regret your outfit choice as the two of you walked along the pathway through the lush greenery outside, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body, head tilted as you watched the birds fly over the pond.
“What are your horses names?” She conversed lightly, stuffing her large hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket.
“Cinnamon and blondie.” You answer quietly, before speaking up a few moments later. “Don’t judge the lack of creativity I was sixteen when I picked the names out.”
The pair of you reach the barn and she huffs a quiet chuckle out her nose, watching you pick up a brush as you approached the brown and blonde horses. “Hey, I think those names are perfectly fitting.”
She wasn’t sure why she wanted you to like her so badly all of a sudden. She partially thought it was because if you did you’d make her life and her job easier — but… no, it was more personal than that. You’d deprived her of seeing your pretty smile so much that she felt almost awestruck at the sight of your peaceful and joyful expression as you gently combed Cinnamons mane. She caught herself smiling as she watched.
The two of you talked. Like actually talked without hurling insults or rolling eyes. You sat on the hay, watching as she fed Blondie a carrot. Abby’s teeth were always so white and perfect, perfecting an already perfect smile. Perhaps you were in a good mood, because the thought of calling her perfect didn’t quite irritate you as much as it usually would.
“Have you even ridden a horse?” You’re still bashful about making regular conversation as you pluck at the hay from the bale you sit on.
“Nah.” She shucks off her jacket, the air in the barn balmier and muggier than the outside. It’s hard to not let your eyes flicker down to her strong arms, so you don’t deny yourself.
“Not even as a little girl?” You question and she chuckles a little.
“I didn’t have horse money.” There’s a pitch of longing behind her tone and you tilt your head, wondering about her upbringing. She senses your inquisition and glances up at you as she continues to stroke the horse. “I didn’t have much money for pretty much my whole life. It was actually why I got into the bodyguard industry. Good pay.” She shrugs one shoulder like it was nothing.
“Did you get to go to public school? Like in the city?” You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, chin balanced on your palms in intrigue. The way you said it sparked some amusement in her, ‘get to go to public school’. Like to you it was some sort of luxury.
“Yep. Got the bus everyday too.” Her eyebrow twitches up with a smirk, turning to walk towards you with her jacket in her hand. Whilst she expects you to pick up on her playful tone and perhaps roll your eyes, you continue to stare up at her in awe— an air of innocent curiosity around you that made her suddenly fight the urge to run a thumb over your cheek. She stood over you, placing her jacket by your side and you preened a little at how big she looked above you like that. Part of you felt mad at yourself for having developed a crush, knowing it was interfering with your plans — but you were touch starved. Really touch starved, so you allowed yourself a little yearning for your strict but not so strict bodyguard.
You clear your throat before speaking quietly. “You’re so lucky.”
At this, she scoffs, dropping down to sit beside you. Your skin felt a little warmer when her thigh pressed up next to yours.
“I wouldn’t say that. Would have traded lives with you in a heartbeat.”
You turn to her with a frown. “My life was boring. I didn’t get to do sneaky, crazy teenager things. I went to a small private school and had my small group of friends there and… we couldn’t do anything without dumb bodyguards riding my coattail. The only time we got privacy was in the girls bathroom, and even then if we took too long they’d come knocking.” You complain, pushing your shoe into the gravel.
“Oh, I see. So you didn’t get to be a bratty teenager so you’re making up for lost years now.” She spoke it with a smile, but assumes she took it too far as along came your infamous eye roll, shuffling away from her on the seat as the irritation snuck back in.
“I am not a brat.”
“And I’m not your bodyguard.” She challenges gently with a smile, nudging her knee against yours. You look at her with a stubborn pout and her smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not really a brat. I can bet you’re a sweet girl that just wants attention so you’re acting out.” Didn’t your father say she was supposed to be tough? Please. You say nothing. Your heart races in your chest but you’re too stubborn to say a word. Maybe you’d let your guard down too much. Roll your eyes again, that’ll do it.
After a moment you look away, not because you were still mad but more so because you were flustered. Sweet girl rung around your head like church bells.
“I know you wanna get rid of me.” She begins and you tense up a little. Way to ruin a nice morning.
“And?”
“I know why. You think you wanna be independent and get away from your parents. You have this… idea of living on your own in the city. Am I right?”
You’re prideful, facing away from her with your chin up. “You’re not wrong.”
She sighs out a little chuckle, shaking her head as she leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs, head turned towards your profile. “You don’t want that life. Trust me. I’ve lived it and it’s hard.”
“Whats hard is having no freedom, no social life, being followed constantly because no one trusts you to make sensible adult decisions.” You snap at her, turning to look her in the eye.
“So you talk to your dad, try and see eye to eye. Not just… pack up and move out like you’re running away to the circus.” She reasons, like it’s just that simple. Her eyes dart across your face as she sees the rage build, infuriated by the assumption that your father was at all the type to negotiate.
“Theres no just talking to my father, Abby. This is it. This is my life unless I get out of here. I can’t live this way forever.” You raise your voice a little, frustrated at her lack of understanding. “I don’t know what your parents are like, but I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”
She smiles in that way that people smile when they’re mad or upset, tilting her head down to look at her hands for a moment as she inhaled, shaking her head with a speechless chuckle when she exhaled. “I never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was sixteen. I don’t have the luxury of arguing with my dad like you do. Sorry.” She sarks and your face drops, which sparks a little guilt in that secretly soft heart of hers — because truthfully there was no way you could have known, and she could tell by your face you were immediately mortified. You stumble for words after a moment.
“Look. I can’t forgive my father for practically imprisoning me. We… we have a complicated relationship and I think we always will. He says he cares and then does nothing but ruin my life. But… he’s still my dad. No one should ever have to go through losing their father, especially not at that age. I’m… I’m sorry Abby. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” You speak quietly and she listens, an unreadable expression on her face as she does so. When you finish, her eyebrows flicker up ever so slightly.
“Huh.” She breathes, quietly.
“What?” You furrow your brows, sympathetic expression lingering.
“So you are capable of basic empathy. I had no idea.” She let’s a smile slip and your face drops into one of deadpan.
“Bye.” You go to stand up but she laughs and grips your arm, her strong but somewhat affectionate hand not allowing you to leave her side. You sigh with an irritated pout, facing away from her again. When her chuckles die down, she speaks again, her hand staying wrapped around the flesh of your arm.
“So what’s your plan then. You inevitably get me fired, you move into the city by yourself and then what. Where are you gonna work? You won’t be able to afford living in an apartment by yourself so who are you gonna live with?” She fires at you, realising she’s still gripping your arm and letting her fingers trail down a little before leaving your skin all together. You hate how it leaves goosebumps in her wake.
“I’ll use my family name to get me a job somewhere. As for roommates I’m not too sure, I suppose I’ll have to start looking online.” You smirk, glancing at her out the corner of your eye. “Perhaps I’ll just find a girlfriend first who will let me move in with her.”
The mention of a girlfriend makes heat prickle behind Abby’s ears. She had a sixth sense for these kind of things, most of the time able to tell when someone preferred the company of the same sex — mainly down to her own preferences, and she could tell almost immediately with you. However, it was always pleasurable to get the confirmation that she was infact, once again correct.
“Oh yeah? You think anyone else is gonna put up with that princess attitude but me? You better start working on your game.” She jests, and the mention of her tolerating your princess ways caused you to bite down a little on your bottom lip.
“What, you’re saying you’re not charmed by me?” You joke back for once, turning to face her to bat your eyelashes. She chuckles softly, eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before looking away and pushing herself up to stand by pressing her hands into her knees with a quiet grunt.
“Can’t say the insults and tantrums did it for me. Good luck to you though.” She allows a smirk to flit back onto her pouty lips before she thrusts a hand out, allowing you to take it so she could help you up, once again proving to you both that she was actually more than happy to tolerate that princess attitude she speaks of so poorly.
By the next day, your head is back in the game. All this talk of moving out set you straight, and whilst bonding with Abby in the barn certainly set you multiple steps back — you were back to your old self in no time, dead set on getting her to budge so that you could be free’d from your fathers watchful eye.
You eye your search bar on Google, sprawled on your front on your bed with your laptop open infront of you, having just typed ‘Roommates for sale backspace Roommates in the city friendly and not weird’. As you scrolled through the unhelpful results, your door opened — Abby standing in your doorway.
“Jesus do you ever fucking knock?” You curse, glaring up at where she stands in the doorway wearing her usual tight black tshirt and thick belted cargos and boots.
“Good to see you’re back to your usual self.” She sarks with a dramatic eye roll as she leans on her hip, refocusing (which took an extra second because you’re just wearing a little skirt and top today and lying on your front is making her think things.) “I’ve gotta go get my car serviced so I’m dropping it off at the garage thirty minutes away. You think you can survive an hour without me here?”
You’re not looking at her, continuing to scroll as you wave her off with just a distracted mumble causing her to shake her head and tsk followed by a chuckle as she pushes off her feet, disappearing down the hallway. “I won’t be too long. Stay out of trouble, smart girl.” She calls to you, before you eventually heard the sound of the front door shutting and then her car rumbling around the fountain infront of the entrance and out of the large iron gates. Finally, some peace and quiet.
However, after around thirty-five minutes, you had to admit you’d grown bored. You were home alone, and the room-mate search was coming to just about nothing so you had given up all together for the time being. You flop onto your back on the bed, huffing. Where you’d usually get up with the boredom and go to bother Abby until she argues back — you couldn’t. So, you figured you’d turn to the next best thing, listening to music whilst you do a light work out.
You didn’t like working out when Abby was home, because — as if she were a moth to a flame, she couldn’t help herself from interjecting and gym-rat-splaining everything you’re doing wrong and how to improve. The last time she walked in on you doing pilates, you nearly chucked a weight at her head because she started dishing out unwarranted advice. You knew she did it just to bother you, wearing that shit eating grin on her face when she’d lift a bicep and flex it, stating that it was ‘living proof that you should listen to me.’
You thought also that maybe a workout would help burn off some of the… frustration you woke up with. Perhaps it was the tension ridden barn conversation the two of you shared yesterday, a reminder of your starvation for touch, maybe you just had a load of tempting dreams that you weren’t remembering — but you woke up with your cunt aching and hungry to be filled. You figured this was the real reason behind your bad mood returning with such a vigour, and you couldn’t get yourself off, not wanting to give Abby the satisfaction of walking in (without knocking, no doubt) on you with your legs splayed out and fingers deep inside your wanting hole, probably accidentally moaning her name— or whatever. You couldn’t say the thought of doing so didn’t make things worse though.
When you rolled off the bed and onto your feet, you took a moment to collect yourself at the frustration of remembering that Abby still had your God-damn headphones somewhere, having stashed it away due to you using it as a prop to taunt her. You cursed her out, and then cursed yourself out for getting your beloved headphones confiscated before sighing. If Abby wanted to invade your privacy by not knocking, and taking away your personal items — you could invade her privacy by going into her room and searching for them. Perhaps you could even return them before she was back.
It seemed like a sound plan, so you padded down the hallway until you were met with the door to the guest bedroom where she had been residing. You push the door open, for some reason your stomach twisting in excitement at the small thrill of being sneaky— something you rarely got to experience. The room was clean and tidy, and smelt like her. You push further into the room, looking around and spotting a few of the black shiny duffel bags she’d brought along with her — the rest of her things assumably packed away into the closets. You kneel, unzipping the first.
Your hand sticks inside, rustling about only to be met with metal plated weights and an exercise mat. You huff, zipping it back up and trying the next one. You spot them instantly inside, but tsk when you struggle to pull them out — the headband portion of the listening device tangled with something else. You pull them both out, pulling them apart as you do so and gasp when you realise what you’re holding. A strap on. A harness with a dildo attached.
You drop it, nearly falling onto your back like a spider had just leapt out at you— your eyes widening. Placing your headphones aside slowly, you lift it again — observing it. Why on Earth did she have that with her? Your heart jumped slightly in jealousy, wondering if she was planning on bringing someone over and using it on them. Was she fucking someone, just a few doors down from you? In a moment of sick depravity and curiosity, you slowly bring the shaft beneath your nose— inhaling to smell if there were any… remnants of usage, or at best cleaning products to signify it had been used and cleaned. Your face feels hot in shame as you do so, and it just smells like new plastic. It looked new too. You pull it back, looking at it. It hadn’t been used at all.
“God, Abby.” You whisper as you turn it side to side, harness tickling your leg as you grip the girth of it. It was black and shiny like everything else she owned, roughly 7 inches with veins and thick— just as you expected from the broad bodyguard. There were balls attached too, and you run your fingertips over them gently, lightly pressing down to feel it’s texture. As you do so, translucent white liquid gathers at the tip of the dildo, a small trail of it running down the side of the shaft obscenely. You gasp lightly again as your cunt clenches hard without warning. A breeding strap, now you had only ever seen those in porn videos from your phone screen late at night with a hand down your pyjama shorts.
You’d been fucked with a strap before, of course. You’d had been allowed romantic relationships in the past, and your parents of all things were surprisingly cool with the gay thing. Of course, your father had to background check them first and practically set up play dates with their family (Undoubtably another wealthy family) However, the times you’d experienced with them were all short lived, fumbly and overall incompatible. It was clear that you and your past two partners were there purely to experience some sort of relief from their sexual frustration — which resulted in just rolling around the bed whilst your parents dined together downstairs, them gliding their smaller strap in your tight pussy as you clumsily rut against eachother. The experiences were somewhat fun and naive, but you never got to cum or experience real pleasure and satisfaction.
Oh but Abby, you could tell she had to have experience. She had been out there in the world, seasoned and a few years older than you — and when you look like that, with that kind of body, there was no way she wasn’t having girls in and out her apartment door like some kind of cock carousel.
You felt your wet folds pulsing with need to be touched, and you bit your lip — wondering how much time you had as it seemed to have majorly escaped you. The idea of fucking yourself with your bodyguards strap without her knowing had you wetter than you cared to admit from just your own daydreams in your bed, and you’d decided fuck it, consider it pay back for putting a dent in your plans.
You were squatted on the ground still, but now your skirt and panties were draped messily on the sleek wooden flooring by your side — excitedly holding the strap by the dildo wearing just a tight little crop top and nothing else like you were Winnie the fucking Pooh. It was humiliating in the way that made you reach down, checking and confirming that your slick had gathered across your lower region— pent up and built up from the past few hours of general frustration.
You had no idea how that beast was meant to fit inside of you, but you’d grown desperate — eagerly pulling it downwards and hovering over it, smearing the pearly liquid from the tip around in your slick as the harness clattered against the floor. You let out a sigh, only to realise you were trembling from the adrenaline of doing something you shouldn’t. Biting back an excited grin, you push in slightly — the stretch making you wince, brows furrowing. You let out a harsh breath, whispering ‘Fuck’ to yourself as you do so, just the tip stretching you beyond what you’ve ever taken before. You balance on the flats of your feet, toes curling against the ground and eyes squeezing shut as you try and push in further, the thickness making you quietly cry out, unable to take it properly.
Tears sprung to your eyes, half at the stretch and half in frustration at the inability to fit it inside of you. “C’mon, please.” You whine quietly to no one, walls spasming around the plastic, which now was slick with your arousal dripping down it. You were beyond turned on, to the point where you were starting to feel a little pathetic. You tried to ease up, reaching down to rub your clit to help you along as you take a deep breath, mind trying to ease itself — visions of Abby touching you instead of your own hand, moaning quietly and frustratedly at the thought of her strapping you.
You try and push it deeper, and it seems like your walls are about to let up — but the door flies open and so do your eyes. Your world comes crumbling down in humiliation, your ears ringing and face burning hot; Abby stands before you, eyes wide and jaw slack with pink cheeks.
Your first thought is to pull the dildo out, and the size of it makes you let out a quiet pained whine as you do so. She’s frozen, and the rage takes over you. It’s the most comfortable emotion in a situation like this.
“I told you to knock!” You yell, grabbing your skirt and throwing the dildo to the ground.
“This— this is my room!” Her voice is high and defensive, still processing what she just saw as everything happened so quickly. You pull your skirt up and grab your panties off the floor and to make the embarrassment worse — you burst into tears before you’ve made it out the door, storming past her and slamming the door to your room. The final blow was realising you’d left the headphones behind.
Abby watches you until you’re out of sight before turning her head slowly back to the strap on laying abandoned on the floor, a single drip of what looks like your arousal beside it. Jesus, she thinks, letting out a long sigh and running her hand over her face as she enters the room fully — letting the door shut behind her. She slowly lowers herself into a squat, thick thighs bulging in her cargos as she inspects the scene. Abby lifts the harness, before grabbing the dildo by the suction end and sucking in a hitched breath at how you’d soaked it only a little way down. Your poor pussy, she thinks as her lower region warms guiltily at the imagery now the shock had worn off. “Was a good attempt.” She mutters to herself, tossing the dildo onto her bed and sighing, standing up and stroking beneath her chin in thought. She worries, wonders what you must have thought about her seeing that she’d brought a strap on into your home. You must’ve thought she was some kind of perv, right? How was she supposed to bring you back from this?
As you lay face down on your bed, crying embarrassed tears for an hour straight— you wonder if it would have been less embarrassing if Abby had followed you into your room rather than leaving you to storm off on your own. She probably didn’t want to see you, or speak to you for the matter of fact. You sit up, wiping your cheeks furiously — if that were the case, you had the right to be mad at her. It was her fault, she took your headphones which spiralled into this whole thing. Was it better to let things fizzle out and be awkward? You couldn’t think of anything worse, so you finally rose to your feet again, cleaning up your appearance with your jaw clenched before storming back down the hallway. You were going to finish this, and make her leave for good.
You didn’t bother to knock, because when did she bother? You pushed the door open so hard it bang loudly against the wall, and Abby turned around from her dresser — going through some envelopes, totally unphased.
“I’m taking my headphones!” You practically holler, an accusatory finger pointed right at her. She places the envelope aside as she leans against the dresser crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.
“Okay.”
“And my father will be receiving a call! Yes, I will call him and tell him that you’re rude, you push boundaries, and you don’t ever fucking knock on any door!” You raise your voice even louder, counting off your fingers as she stares at you.
“Again, this is my room and I didn’t know you were in here.” She explains slowly like you were stupid, which only enrages you more.
“This is my house!” You shriek, waving your hands and she pushes off the dresser, stepping towards you.
“Is it?” She frowns. “Do you even pay any rent?”
You falter for just a second, but it’s enough for her to see and nearly smile, which only builds your emotion. “This is my families house. On your very first day here you said that you were a guest in my house, so act like one. My. House.” You step closer to meet her in the centre of the room, eyes boring up into hers as she watched you, unimpressed, tongue in her cheek.
She couldn’t lie, you were hot when you were mad. Infuriating, sure. But hot. Hot in the way where she wanted to shut you up, make you cum until you weren’t fighting back — just babbling aimlessly, frown fully melted from your face. Fuck you until you learnt a lesson. The thought made her stand up a little straighter.
“Yeah?” She tilts her head daringly, and enraged you step up closer, bodies nearly touching just so you could yell in her face.
“My. Hou—” You go to repeat yourself for emphasis but you’re cut off by the feeling of her hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them. When she speaks, it’s calm and menacing. You stare up at her wide eyed.
“You’re not gonna talk to me like that. You’re embarrassed, sweet girl — and I feel for you, but don’t you ever yell in my face like that. You understand me?” She tilts her head further, eyes on you. You’re humiliated, knees knocking into eachother at her calling you sweet girl whilst berating you and you frown, still panting — all hot faced and furious. She uses your cheeks to make you nod and you groan. “Good. If you wanna talk about what happened, let’s talk. But before you come up here and start accusing me of shit, remember that you came in here searching, and you found that,” she turns your face so that you were looking at the strap on laying on the bed. She stays facing you, eyes browsing the side of your face now. Your eyes widen a little at the sight, the memory of using it replaying in your head. “And you decided to use it without asking me.” She steps back a little, eyeing you (not even bothering to hide the hunger anymore). “Okay. Say your piece.” She gestures with her hand and you collect yourself, pulling in a shaky breath.
You admit, the confidence from your tone had vanished. “I was just trying to look for my headphones. I wanted to work out.” You explain and she nods, encouraging you to go on. “You… you brought that into this house, why?” You point at the toy on the bed, the embarrassment starting to slip through again in your pathetic tone of voice.
“Its not your business what I bring with me in my own bag.” Her velvety voice was quick to answer and your brow creased, running out of reasons to shift the blame onto her.
“Well… you can’t bring things like that here it’s — it’s inappropriate.” You internally curse yourself out for stuttering.
“You didn’t seem to have any complaints an hour ago when you were trying to stuff it inside yourself.” She shrugs like she just couldn’t help it from leaving her mouth and in your embarrassment you turn to leave again, walking towards the door. She follows and reaches over your head and shuts it in front of you before you can, grabbing your arm and turning you around so that your back was pressed to it now as she looms over you. “What? Am I wrong?”
“Abby.” You go to complain, but it comes out as a weak whisper.
“Is that why you did it? Maybe you were trying to get caught so you’d have a reason to get all mad and go batshit crazy on me, huh? Still going ahead with that bullshit plan of yours to send me packing?” Abby theorises and you lower your gaze, head tilted towards the ground as you thought. It wasn’t that, you weren’t brave enough. You were genuinely just being disgusting and horny and got yourself caught — which to you was all the more shameful. She knocks your chin up with her knuckle, making you look up at her again. “Or maybe you wanted to get caught so you could be punished. Is that what you wanted? ‘That why you been such a fucking brat?”
“Not a brat.” You huff, though you couldn’t deny it any further than that.
“You know what a brat is? Girls like you,” She poked a finger into your chest. “Who wanna be put in their place so they act out. I’m starting to think that’s just what you need.”
You try and push off the door but she’s blocking you to do so, bodies too close. “Do you really think I’d come in here and yell at you just because I wanna get spanked or whatever?” You bite back, proud of the comeback until she roughly spins you around by the hips so your cheek was pressed to the wooden door, back a little arched. She takes a fist of your skirt and yanks it up, holding it to your lower back making you gasp — fully exposing your bare rear. She chuckles and you wanna die.
“I dunno, didn’t even bother putting on a new pair of panties before coming up in here. Seems to me like you knew what you were doing. Lost the bass in your voice too, smart girl. Where’d all that anger go?” Her hand is gentle when it cups your ass, feeling the meat of it in her hand. You could not believe this was happening. You were mortified. Soaked, but mortified.
You try to fight back with your words, but it’s coming out in little huffs and embarrassed pants at the feeling of her grabbing your ass. “I’m— m’gonna tell — gonna tell on—”
“You’re gonna tell on me?” She snickered. “Are you gonna tell the full story? What you were doing on the floor when I walked in?” She purs in your ear and you can hear her smiling. She’s sick.
You say nothing, because if you’re being honest you’re giving up on your resolve— the feeling of her hands on you just melting your anger away like ice. “No I didn’t think so.”
She gives your ass a light slap, just enough to jiggle it and make you whimper at the suddenness before turning you back around, eyes glancing between yours seriously. “You wanna know what I think?”
You sigh and nod, not trusting your voice at this point.
She gently takes you by the arm and walks you over to the foot of the bed, picking up the strap and holding it. “I think you need to clean my strap for me.”
The way she says it makes you feel hot and bothered, and you go to reach for it to shamefully disappear and wash it in the sink but she holds it out of your reach, raising her eyebrows playfully as she stares you down for a moment. “Not like that.”
She brings the strap down, stepping into the leg holes of the harness before pulling it up and adjusting it to fit her by the hoops at the hip. You watch, trembling — the sight of her standing there with a huge cock something you had only dreamt of, making you squeeze your thighs together. You hated yourself for how weak willed you’d become.
“You can clean it up that smart mouth of yours.” She smiles simply before placing both hands on your shoulders and pushing you down slowly to the ground. She sits too on the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs wide to accommodate to you between them. She wanted you to suck her off? Now that was just degrading. You pursed your lips, trying and failing to ignore the rush of slick seeping from you.
“Abby. Come on.” You whisper and she looks at you for a moment, making you shrink where you were kneeled before leaning forward, gently grasping your chin again, her face millimetres from yours.
“It’s the least you can do.” She threatens before leaning back on her hands, nodding towards her cock. She nearly folds and leans forward to kiss you when she sees the big, sweet, doe eyes you give her — so far removed from your usual glare. If she knew that all she had to do was dom the good girl out of you, her previous month would have been a lot easier.
You gingerly grip the shaft with your hand, bringing your face towards it. God, it smells like you still— to think that only an hour ago you were on the ground trying to shove it inside yourself. Your brows furrow as you kitten lick the top, before suckling on the top with a low moan in your throat gaining confidence. “Good girl.” She praises as you push down a little, sucking harder to the point where you can taste the breeding liquid. You’re not quite sure if it’s meant to be consumed but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything at this point.
You wanna push down further, but you’re struck with a thought and pull off her with a pop— glaring up at her with some of your leftover brattiness.
“What’s that face for?” She hums. You struggle to find your words.
“You… We’re…” You huff, sulkily and she watches the glimmer of longing pass over your face. “You’re making me suck you off and you haven’t even kissed me.” You finally get it out and she smirks, but not totally in a mean way — more so adoringly. Smushing your cheeks again with her hand, she pulls your face in, meeting you in the middle as her cock brushes against your chest as her lips meet yours. It’s a hard, wet, sloppy kiss with your cheeks smushed but it’ll do, and when she pulls off you with a loud smack she roughly rubs her thumb beneath your pouty bottom lip to remove the residual saliva. “Now get back to work.”
She holds back a giggle at the sight of your own pleased smile as you go back down, licking up the sides and cleaning off the plastic — groaning at the residual taste of you clinging to it. This was cruel, wicked even — and you were enjoying it.
“Thats it. Knew I’d be able to find better use for that mouth. Must be tired from running it so much.” Her voice is gentle despite the degradation and it fills your brain with a hazy, muddled fog — not sure how to feel anymore. You pull up for air after taking as much as you can, and as soon as your lips wrap around the dick again, Abby can’t help herself from pressing her hand down on the back of your head gently, muttering a “‘Can do better than that, pretty.” as you gag around her. This seemed to be the first straw in what broke the camels back.
It had dawned on you, half way through sucking her off that after this she was likely just to throw you out on your ass, back to your room to take care of yourself. Getting you on your knees infront of her was her way of winning once and for all, and this was only one last humiliation to shut you up completely. You hadn’t realised you were in your head until Abby was pulling her strap out your mouth, tilting your chin up to her as she leant forward once more. “Hey. Where’d you go just now?”
You try and break away, trying to catch her tip in your mouth again, jaw a little agape and tongue peeping out but she grips your chin more firmly, shaking you a little. “Hey. Look at me.”
“S’nothing Abby. Just lemme—”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head.
“Then what?”
You suck in a deep breath. “Are you gonna chuck me out after this? Are you… are you only doing this to embarrass me?” She stares at you in perplexity as she watched your mouth turn down, emotions catching up with you as you squeeze your eyes shut — two fat tears sliding down your tears.
“Hey, no.” She’s still a little confused, but she wipes your tears away with the back of her hand anyway. She sighs, pulling you up by the arm and sitting you on her thigh. “Okay. Maybe this kind of thing isn’t for you. That’s okay.”
You wipe your nose, a little calmer and clearer headed now. “I was enjoying it. I think I just… I feel like no one cares about me. It just caught up with me that’s all. We can get back to it.” You go to stand up off her but she holds you tighter, making you look at her.
“I care about you. I stupidly, really care about you.” She speaks sincerely, and you stare at her analytically before realising that she actually truly means it. Abby cares about you.
She pulls you in gently this time, lips locking against yours. It’s not mean, or sarky, or trying to tease you — it’s a real meaningful kiss and you just melt. All that anger, all that competitiveness just melts off you like ice cream on a hot and hazy day. You wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lick into your mouth and dominate your tongue with her own, pulling it in and sucking on it making you shift on her thigh and whimper. You think about grinding down on her thick, cargo covered thighs and how good that might feel after a month of staring at them — but before you can, she’s easing you to lay on your back on the bed.
“Can show you how much I care about you. Maybe we can start over, how’s that sound?” She whispers into the space below your ear, pressing a wet kiss there and you let out a shaky huff, nodding. “Gonna need your words though. That’s how this works, sweet girl.”
“Please show me.”
“Like that, good job.”
Her hands look large, but they feel even larger — especially when they’re beside eachother, running up beneath your top— fingertips brushing over your hard nipples as she tests the waters, smiling against your skin when your back arches up into her, a sensitive whine quietly passing your lips. She slowly drags up your top, pushing herself down your body to pepper kisses down the centre of your chest, letting out a quiet groan of her own when she grips your tit with her hand, massaging the plush flesh. “M—outh” You choke out in a pleasured haze and she chuckles, eyebrows jumping up in amusement as she adjusts her position.
“Should have known you’d know exactly what you want.” She teases before flattening her tongue over the bud of your nipple, pulling back to blow cold air on it to harden it making you wince sensitively. The smile barely leaves her when she dips down, wrapping her pouty pink lips around the bud and sucking, soothing her tongue over it and digging her teeth in ever so slightly, letting them scrape over your nipple when she pulls away. “Fuck, so pretty.” She grits her teeth, reaching up and grabbing it in her hand again letting it jiggle beneath her palm.
You buck your hips again, which directs her attention to your lower regions — forcing her to depart from your breast to continue her journey down your body. She sits up, both hands encasing your waist, rubbing thumbs into your lower ribs gently. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the bold question and your eyes flutter open, not quite remembering when you closed them. “No.”
She grins, like that was just the answer she was after and climbs back down— kissing your stomach and then flipping your skirt up so she could kiss your pubic mound. You shiver, a little insecure but filled with desire more than anything as her hands slide up between your legs. “Open these up for me.” She whispers, and her hot breath wafts over your needing cunt when she reveals it, pulling back to look at it.
You feel your chest and face get hot as she stares— dark eyed and hungry straight at your most private area. “So fucking pretty.” She whispers, thumbs sliding either side of your fat lips and pulling them apart, her brows furrowing. “You always get this wet? Jesus.”
You don’t answer, because you don’t quite have the guts to tell her that you don’t remember the last time someone had aroused you this much, to the point where it’s taken over your body and brain entirely.
She leans in, and you expect her tongue to dart out first — but she spits, directly on your clit making you jolt with a whimper, then chasing it up with the flat of her tongue as her thick arms wrap around your thighs, jaw practically unhinging as she starts eating you like her life depends on it.
You moan, loudly and with less shame as time passes now, grinding your hips up into her face — which she matches by pinning them back down to the bed, only pulling away to briefly grab a cushion from the bed and slot it beneath your hips to elevate you slightly — so fast and expertly you barely realise she’s done it before she’s back to mouthing at your crotch.
“Feels so good!” You whine and she chuckles against you, the vibration of which sends shockwaves through to your stomach. “Need you to fuck me.” You mutter, more to yourself but she acknowledges it anyway, the hands that were massaging your hips sliding between your thighs.
“If you want to take my cock I’m gonna need to prep you. You saw yourself, s’never gonna fit with how tight you are right now.”
With this new information, you feel her finger tips sliding through your soaked folds gently as she suckles on your clit relentlessly. You whine, trying your best not to clamp down when she slides in her finger, and then another. You were in heaven, panting up to the ceiling as she fingerfucks you, l your hand sliding down to encase itself in her golden hair — glowing from the sunset streaming in through the window.
She moans as she tastes you, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut like she could feel every movement of her tongue herself. “Gonna give you one more okay? Need to stretch you— still so fucking tight.” She speaks against you and all you can do is nod, in fact at that point you’d probably let her do anything she wanted to you. It was such a relief to drop the act, to just relax and let her take care of you.
A third finger prods at your entrance and you wince as she slowly slides it in, looking up at you to watch your expression — brows pinching and eye twitching at the feeling, walls wrapping tightly round her thick fingers. “There you go, pretty girl. Took that like a champ.” She kisses your hip bone before getting back to work, slowly and experimentally fucking her three fingers in and out, curling them up to grind against your upper gummy inner wall.
“Feel like I’m gonna cum, Abby it’s — it’s so much.” You shake, toes curled so hard they’d gone white and she hums kindly against you, pulling off your clit again with a loud spitty pop.
“I know baby, I know. Let it out.” She whispers, rushed and syrupy like she was too on the precipice of a moan. She moves her tongue in quick successions around your clit as you start to buck and ride against her fingers, a clammy sound matching this — your wetness creating music against her knuckles as you fuck against them. “Cum, smart girl, cum.”
You do, and you’re so full it’s like there’s nowhere for the cum to go — and therefore you feel like you might explode, suddenly letting out loud cries and whines as you shake and jerk on the bed, only to be held down by Abby’s strong arms. She moans too, because you’re dripping down her wrists and her chin — seeming to have a never ending quantity of cum as she laps it up. You taste exactly how she thought you would.
You can’t even tell she’s stopped because your legs are still violently shaking for a minute, coming down from your orgasm felt like it would never end— but you were grounded by the feeling of Abby’s lips on your cheek, sliding her hands under your back to hold you. “I know, it’s okay. Good job.” She cooes into your hair, silencing your nonsensical babbles. She doesn’t push you to move onto the next thing, just stroking your skin and pressing her lips to your skin until you were calm.
Abby feels tugging down below, and looks down between your bodies to see your hand wrapped around her shaft, tugging towards you as your legs fall open again limply. She winces like she can feel it, and she swears she can when you lazily run your thumb over the tip that had drizzled some of the pearlescent liquid out from all the movement. She watches you play with the spillage between your fingers, before bringing it to your puffy cunt, spreading it through your folds and whimpering at the sensitivity.
“Shit, babe.” She sighs out, the room feeling suddenly much warmer. “You wanna continue?”
“Mhm. Was prepping to take you, remember?” You brush the loose strand from her braid hanging over her cheek out of her face. The gesture is intimate, like two lovers who have been together for a while. You almost feel embarrassed again but she turns her cheek and kisses your palm.
She nestles the pads of her fingers into your folds again, sliding around in your arousal and you sigh out at the sensitivity, the urge to be filled returning from its brief satisfaction. “Well you’re definitely wet enough.” She smirks in disbelief, and you can’t believe that there was a time where you would have rolled your eyes at such comments — now only doe eyed and lip bitten as your legs fall open wider. Her fingers are replaced by her strap, sliding up and down — collecting your wetness along it, a whimper leaving you when the tip nudges against your swollen clit.
“Think you’re ready for me?” She asks and before she’s even finished the sentence you moan out a quick and desperate ‘yes!’ making her laugh, keeling into herself with her chin to her chest for a moment. She looks cute and you want to kiss her again. In due time, you think. “How long has it been since you last got fucked?” She continues sliding her strap up and down. Abby secretly thinks she’s stalling, because she wants this closeness to last.
You shake your head breathlessly, trying to clear the fog in order to answer her simple question. Why was she asking questions at a time like this?
“Like — nine months maybe a year?” You answer and she nods, understandingly.
“It’s no wonder you’re so tight. This is gonna be quite a squeeze, yeah?” She looks you deep in your eyes, like she did every time she wanted you to really listen.
“I know, s’okay.” You breathe, and at this she takes your hand in her larger one.
“S’gonna be big. You can squeeze my hand if you want. Deep breath in.” She instructs and you slowly inhale as she pushes in, your hand squeezing hers as you clench around her thick length.
The “Fuck” you let out in a breathy groan is obscene and borderline pornagraphic, which makes Abby fight the urge to bottom out completely and shove her cock inside you fully all at once, but she’s patient, her breath hitching as she reassures you.
“I know, I know.” is all she can say as she pushes in further.
“W—wait.” You tense up a little and she freezes with no hesitation, letting you adjust to the stretch as she drops kisses onto your jaw until you were ready. This happened a couple of times, and she’d oblige to your wishes each time you halt her until she was fully seated inside you.
You felt like the air had been punched out of you, Abby was so deep. “Hows that?” She whispers.
“So big.” You mewl.
“Taking it so well. See, we got it all in the end.” She praises, quiet and gleeful watching you blissed out beneath her.
“Y’not getting paid enough for this, he’s not paying you enough to deal with me.” You babble into her shoulder in regards to her deal with your father, legs trembling around her hips.
“You kidding me? He’s paying me to fuck his daughters pretty pussy, think I’ll be okay.” She scoffs into your neck, sucking wet kisses into the skin there, hips still not moving as you adjust.
“S’not why he’s paying you.” Your nose turns up and she chuckles before lifting her face to hover right above yours, lips occasionally brushing. She begins to move her hips and you both gasp at the feeling.
“How about… instead of arguing with me… you shut up and take my fucking strap.” She whispers temptingly and you go limp again, apart from your hips which twitch against her movements letting her grind her strap in and out of you slowly.
“Oh my god!” You cry, letting go of her hand to wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into you to connect your lips. She lets you whimper against her and suck on her bottom lip whilst she concentrates on finding that angle. She knows she’s struck gold when your legs jerk around her before your heels dig into her ass.
“Faster please Abby, please faster!” You sound deranged, at the point she wanted you all along — cockdrunk and desperate without a care in the world. She clenches around nothing at the thought of just keeping you this dumb all the time.
She speeds up on command, hips smacking against you now as she pulls away to watch the way your tits bounce beneath her. “Oh baby, you’re fucking taking it.” She pants, impressed at how quickly you’ve allowed her to really go in on you. She reaches between you to rub your clit and you squeal, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah? Want me to rub it? S’it that good, pretty girl?”
“Yes! Please! I— I can’t Abby it’s too — Abby please I wanna— need to cum!” Your hands are curled into her t-shirt adorably which only makes her go harder, practically punching the sounds out of you like a squeaky toy each time she thrusts. You feel yourself teetering over the edge once more, abused pussy relentlessly sucking her in with obscene wet noises attached. Before you can release, your hand reaches down to cup the balls of the strap. “Want it inside, please Ab— please want it inside me—” You ramble and she catches on, and as you tense up, letting out a pained whine as you cum, she slides her hand on top of yours, pressing down to empty the cum lube inside you. The feeling of the warm liquid spurting against your cervix makes you shake, sobbing uncontrollably suddenly as you ride it out.
“There you go, good fucking girl. You like that don’t you? Fuck, letting me breed you like this the first time we fuck? You dirty fucking girl. Such a pretty fucking girl.” She’s babbling too, unravelled by the beauty that was you cumming the way you did. She knew she was good at fucking, but to make someone cry like that was driving her insane.
You’re floating when she pulls out, the two of you breathless and fucked out. Effortlessly, she pushes her hands under your arms and drags you further up the bed until you’re laying against the pillow and she drops down besides you, pulling you into her chest, t-shirt slightly damp with sweat. You listen to her heart thundering in her chest, and it lulls you into a sleepy and relaxed zone, pulling your thigh up over her hip with her help, her thumb stroking the crease where your ass and thigh connects.
“Did so good. The sounds you make are so pretty.” She whispers like she was trying to lull you to sleep. You shift, breath stammering in your throat and nearly choking you when your used pussy glides over her shaft— the veins and ridges catching against your clit making your hips jerk on her, unable to stop yourself from slowly and feverishly rubbing down on her as you breathe heavily in the quiet room.
“Want more, sweet girl?” She cooes, hand running down the back of your head to cup it lovingly.
“Too sore.” It comes out muffled into her t-shirt, aimlessly rocking your hips.
“That’s alright. Just keep… keep doing this.” She relaxes into the bed, kissing your forehead and letting you please yourself, grinding into the mixture of your juices and the fake cum soaking the both of your lower halves. It was messy and bordering on gross, but made your needy clit throb all the more. You were truly insatiable. Had it really been that long?
She sighed in pleasure at the feeling of you grinding against her, the position making her harness press deliciously into her own clit, pleasing you both. Perhaps she too could get off from this.
The sun had gone in, and the room had grown dark. But this time, you weren’t afraid — infact the growing inkiness of the sky was the last thing on your mind— safe, warm and dumb in Abby’s strong arms.
Maybe you’d let her stick around.
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lqveharrington · 2 years ago
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Surprise | X.T.
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Summary: You love your boyfriend’s long hair, but he decides to cut it. (hence the picture of percy !!)
A/N: currently in love with xavier thorpe <3
Warnings: (not proof read !!) Mainly fluffy fluff, loads of couple-ly things, kissing, uses of babe, loverboy, pretty boy, lmk if i missed anything !!
Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader
Word Count: 1k+
————
You loved Xavier Thorpe with all your heart. If you could pick any feature of his that would be your favorite, it would be all of him. But you couldn’t help but rank his hair just a bit higher than everything else.
From the moment he started to grow his hair out and take care of it, you’ve been addicted to playing with it anytime you’d be with him.
And he would endlessly tease you for it.
— — —
Xavier was laying between your thighs, watching whatever was projected on the wall in front of him. You, on the other hand, were running your fingers through his hair subconsciously.
“Babe?” You heard Xavier ask, humming in response. “What would you do if I cut two to three inches of my hair off?”
“Murder you.” You murmur, letting him grab your hands from his hair. “I’ll have Wednesday cover it up as an accident.”
“You are terrifying to date.” He tilted his head back to see your face, your hands cupping his face.
“Is that a rude comment, Thorpe?”
“Never.” He kissed your palm, melting you completely. Xavier flipped onto his stomach, pulling himself up to be face to face with you. He gave you a quick peck on the lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Xav.” You twirled a section of his hair. “But if you cut your hair, all hell will rain over you.”
“Noted.”
For the rest of that week, Xavier wouldn’t stop asking the same question in different forms, which confused you the most, but you eventually became bored of them.
“So if I did cut my hair, would you dump me?” Xavier blocked your attempt at getting him, hearing a tired groan.
“No, I would just be kinda upset. But it’s not my choice, it’s yours.” You took another attempt to get a point, achieving it.
“Aw, you love me.” He smiled behind his mask, resetting position.
You playfully rolled your eyes, “We’ve established this every time.”
The pair went at fencing practice a bit longer than usual, having small conversations in between for breaks.
“What if I shaved all of my hair off?” He handed you your water bottle.
“That’s when I dump you, Thorpe.” You remove your mask, tucking a piece of your strand hair behind your ear. Seeing his appalled face, you let out a small laugh, getting on your tippy toes to peck his lips. “I’m kidding, you know I would never dump you over your hair.”
“But you’d murder me if I cut it?” His hands immediately went to your waist as your hands went to his chest, letting them lay there.
“Oh yeah, two different things.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Now come on, pretty boy. Are we still gonna chill in your dorm for a bit or are we just going to practice forever?”
“Oh, practice forever, obviously.” He winked.
When you got to his dorm, you knew you’d spend the night at this point, so you stole one of his shirts and grabbed the other stuff you left in his room, heading toward the shower.
“Don’t miss me too much!” He called out.
“Already missing you!”
He shook his head, a smile gracing his lips at your response. While he waited for you to finish, he scrolled through Instagram, finding you had posted a picture earlier which he spammed comments with right away.
The creaking of the door made his head perk up, finding you in fuzzy socks and one of his favorite tees.
“Aren’t you adorable.” He went to give you a hug which you swiftly dodged. “Hey—“
“Shower first.” You use a finger to push his chest away.
Xavier muttered something under his breath, but obliged, grabbing his sweats and other necessities. You knew whatever he mumbled wasn’t anything crude, seeing as he smiled after speaking.
For you, you stayed in his bed, curled up in the sheets that smelled exactly like Xavier, which warmed you. You ended up grabbing the book on his bed side table to read, needing to finish it. You expected him to finish showering in at least thirty minutes or less, but he took longer. You were thinking of the possibilities of what took him so long but the water had already stopped running about fifteen minutes ago.
Deciding to actually do something, you got up from your place in bed and stood in front of the bathroom door, knocking softly. “Xavier? Are you alright?”
“Yeah, don’t worry.” You heard his muffled voice, hearing some drawers being shut. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
That’s all you needed to hear before flopping down on his bed again, face smooshed in the fluffy pillows. It never occurred to you that the second your boyfriend exited the bathroom, you’d be surprised to say the least.
“Hey, babe?” Xavier opened the door slightly, enough for you to hear him properly. “Can you close your eyes for a few seconds?”
“Why?” You sit up, eyes shut tight. “Did you forget a towel? It’s not like I haven’t—“
“No! No, not that. Just… It’s a surprise.”
“Oh? Is it a good or bad surprise?”
“It depends on how you interpret it.” His voice seems much closer to you now, meaning he left the comfort of his bathroom. “Don’t… How do I word this, don’t try to murder me.”
Suddenly, it clicked. Your eyes shot open and flickered them toward his hair. “You did not…“
“Okay, hear me out—“
You jumped from your spot on the bed, hands moving to touch his shortened hair. “Xavier…” You murmur, messing with the short strands now. “It’s pretty.”
“—And Ajax was like ‘Hey, why don’t you—‘ What?”
“I said it’s pretty.” You ruffle his hair before bringing your hands behind his neck.
“I thought you’d murder me.” His hands went to hug your abdomen, backing you into the bed.
“I would never. But I have to say, it’s a really good look on you. Not that your longer hair wasn’t.”
“Yeah?” He buried his head in your neck, words murmured against your skin. “I was worried, but maybe it’s a good thing.”
“Mm, you don’t have to worry about tying it up all the time now.” You hum, playing with the hair.
“I love you, you know?” Xavier kissed your cheek, letting you flop down onto the bed. “I love you so much, words can’t describe it.”
“I love you so much more.” You pull him down to peck his lips at least a billion times.
“You loved my hair more.”
“Still do, lover boy.”
————
©lqveharrington — all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.
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ddarker-dreams · 2 years ago
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Sore Loser.
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Yan Alhaitham x Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation and unbalanced power dynamics.  Word count: 1.1k.
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“In case you somehow missed it while storming in here, I want to inform you that my work hours are posted outside my office. You should note that I’m not currently on the clock and am under no obligation to hold an audience with you.” 
You knew this would be no simple task. That’s why you’ve spent days — perhaps weeks, if you’re being totally honest — mentally preparing for this confrontation. Countless hours have been spent running mental simulations of this imperative moment. Still, despite your best efforts, you never achieved a breakthrough that’d navigate you through the obstacles lying ahead. Hence why you’ve been delaying this tête-à-tête no matter how much you recognize its needs to be resolved, and soon. 
Some might call it procrastination, or delaying the inevitable, but not you. You think of it as self-preservation. What small amount you have left to cling to, anyway. Today, that thin, already fraying self-preservation was pulled taut enough to snap. 
Which leads you here. The last place you want to be, paired with the very last person you want to see. 
Your gut tells you the feeling is far from mutual. Alhaitham’s expression might be schooled, betraying nothing that floats around in that sinister mind of his, but you’re certain he’s deriving some satisfaction from your disheveled appearance. It could be the nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips or how he went to such lengths to keep his words slow, as if savoring your attention. 
“Oh, trust me, I saw your little plaque.” 
“It comes as a relief to know you’re literate.” 
The creature seated before you cannot be a human being. There’s no way. You’ve dealt with some irritating men throughout your academic tenure — sometimes you wonder if the trait is an unspoken prerequisite to being accepted in higher education — yet none come close to this. The nonplussed air, that monotonous voice that is about as passionate as one reciting instructions from a manual. Oh, how it stokes a seething rage inside you that burns red hot. 
You slam your hands on his desk hard enough to jostle the various writing instruments and memorabilia. This little outburst earns a raised eyebrow, yet nothing else. It’s clear that the floor is yours. You’ll need to make every second count. 
“I know what you’ve been doing,” you whisper. Still nothing. No guilty body language that’d give himself away, his intense eye contact doesn’t even falter. Yours almost does. “Admittedly, I don’t know the specifics. I just think it’s interesting that ever since we broke things off, I’ve been receiving the cold shoulder from the academic world. An area you hold immense sway over.” 
He straightens out a pen that went askew from your previous action. “A quick correction: you used the incorrect pronoun.” 
“... Huh?” 
“You said ‘ever since we broke things off’ when the correct phrasing would be ‘ever since I broke things off.’ That was entirely your decision. I had no part in it.” 
It takes a few seconds for his words to register. What was once a steady yet contained flame ignites into a wildfire, seeking to smolder everything nearby into ashes. You can’t believe you saw something in him once. That you granted him a special residence in your heart, the door left unlocked so he wouldn’t need a key. In the wake of his forceful eviction, you’ve boarded up the windows and chained every potential entryway shut. There’s no fully surveying the damage left behind that you’ve been forced to clean up. 
Piece by piece, shard by shard. You knew picking up the jagged glass would hurt — you never could’ve fathomed how much it’d make you bleed. 
Unfortunately, he isn’t finished. While you mentally scramble to recollect your thoughts, he swoops in, talons sharp and ready to pierce your flesh. 
“Additionally, I don’t see why we’re having this conversation if, as you said yourself, you have no evidence to back your claims. This alleged abuse of power would be better discussed with the matra. I’d be cooperative with any investigation they open. In fact, why don’t we go visit them together—” 
“Stop it,” you cut him off, and surprisingly, he listens. “Is this— is this your way of tormenting me? Getting revenge? Does destroying what I’ve spent my entire life building satisfy your ego?” 
Alhaitham places his elbows on the desk, rests his chin on steepled fingers, and leans forward. You know that look. You were once intimately familiar with it. This is the posture he adopts when he’s studying. Analyzing every variable presented to him and unearthing what remains hidden. There is no secrecy beneath his scrutinizing gaze. Where some see a stubborn wall, he views a vast ocean of information, waiting to be absorbed by those who know how to find it. 
“You haven’t been sleeping well,” he notes. His voice is quieter. Almost tender, if such a word exists in his lexicon. You’re convinced it doesn’t. “Your foundation hides the worst of the eyebags, but I’m familiar with your normal complexion. The slightest change in pigmentation is enough to give you away.” 
You hug your arms close to your chest. “Who do you think is to blame for that?” 
“You wouldn’t like my answer.” 
His hand reaches for your wrist. You tense, your breath catching in your throat, yet you allow him to unfurl your protective stance. His skin is familiar. Warm, calloused from years of dutifully scribbling onto documents. You feel his eyes boring at and through you. Cataloging your every reaction, retrieving past memories to best advance his goals. 
He’s never quite as detached as you wished he would be. 
There’s an underlying fondness when he speaks your name, gentle as a soft breeze, and almost as indiscernible. 
“You must be at your wit’s end if you’re coming to me unprepared like this,” he sighs. The spell is broken, the hypnotist’s wristwatch frozen midair. You go to jerk your hand back, only for him to tighten his grip, not enough to hurt, but enough to effectively communicate his point. 
“I’ve always been partial to you, so I suppose a little overtime wouldn’t hurt just this once. I believe I have a solution for the predicament you’ve found yourself in. We could discuss it, if you’d like. How about over dinner? It’ll be my treat.” 
You did come here searching for a solution — though this is the last one you’d ever want. 
“... How much of this did you plan?” 
“I’m unsure what you mean,” his tongue might wax deceit, but his lips offer a glimmer of truth. They curl into a content smile. “I take it that’s a yes. Our usual spot, then?” 
It’s occurs to you that you were worried about the wrong thing all along. 
There was no point in fortifying your defenses after you ejected him from your heart; he never intended to undergo a forceful re-entry. 
No, according to his design, you’d be the one undoing each lock to meet him outside. 
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ikeucity · 1 month ago
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IKEUCITY WILL BE UNDER MAINTENANCE :(
hey guys...
so i’ve been thinking a lot about my current fics, and i really want to make them better. i am afraid to announce that some things might get revamped or changed, but it’s all for the best, trust me. i’m adding extra scenes and details to make everything more enjoyable for you. things i felt i could've added to make the world even better.
(don't worry! i will keep almost everything, as i know you've enjoyed how i write the characters and scenes, i simply want to write it better)
i want those who enjoy my stories to find an escape and be immersed in the world i've created with my works, thats why i love writing long ass fics. and i will continue to do so because i know it has helped me too. to just step into a different reality even if just for a moment.
i’m still continuing brought the heat back and moonstruck, but the my one-shots are getting a bit of a refresh. i know edits not showing up in reblogs is annoying, and i honestly get so pissed every time 😭
all my fics are getting a deeper, more polished version. i’ve been reading a lot and doing research to improve my writing, so expect more quality content! i’ve also created a system where, by the time i post something, there’s already another fic lined up.
what you can expect in the future is yours to wreck is getting a new spin, and i’m dropping part 3 as a gift! i’m not deleting posts—just archiving them. if something goes missing, don’t worry—the completed work will be even better.
i’ve also figured out how to make sure i have more words allowed on my posts and stay organized.
i’ll be making drabbles for fics like yours to wreck, featuring cute moments that won’t be in the plot—just a little side thing. and is something i plan to do for future fics too!
will i write requests? absolutely! but not yet, not until i feel like i've at least completed some of my series.
also it's important to know that i do love my series like akdjdjsisjs but i can't keep the series going without adding more to the plot, but you guys trust me, right?
i write fast. the reason for all of this is that i need to get better at posting finished work that i find perfect, no more second guessing. no more typos and feeling the urge to edit it or replace a few things.
i want to feel completely satisfied with what i share. if i’m calling something mid, imagine what i can do when i’m fully content with it? :O
literally, in a month, i’m gonna be raining down fics on you. the one that’s setting the tone for the kind of writing and quality you can expect is peeping tom, which i’m completely focused on right now and am receiving help from a wonderful person for it.
i want to keep my blog alive, and i need to feel happy about it. hence the changes. i hope you understand my sweets.
thank you all so much for the love and support—it means the world to me!
🖋️ love, keuri
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midnight-melancholiaaa · 5 months ago
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‘what the fuck was up with that first sol and mae conversation’ - an acolyte ep6 theory/analysis post
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I think the start of this episode unfortunately put to bed the theories that Sol was aware of Mae’s identity and baited her onto the ship. So that got me thinking — at what point in the conversation did Sol realise he wasn’t speaking to Osha? What tipped him off? And, generally, what the fuck was that conversation??? Sol??? Hello?????
I think all of this can be explained, and the layers of their conversation peeled back in an interesting way, if Sol realised Mae’s identity earlier than I’d first assumed. I now think a few flags early in the conversation tipped him off, and a lot of his later lines are his response to Mae clearly projecting her own feelings onto “Osha”.
Theory/analysis below the cut!
First off, Mae’s lines and behaviour when she emerges from the engine room are dispassionate in a way we don’t expect from Osha. There’s an argument that this could look to Sol like someone numb with grief and putting on a functional face, but I’m going to list this as Red Flag Number 1. When she asks Sol what’s up with him, she sounds more confused and curious than she does concerned, again not something that tracks as Osha.
However, I think the red flag that dooms Mae is in the following exchange.
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“How could I not have sensed that villain’s true intentions when we first met him on Olega”
“I think when you really want something, it can cloud your mind” (Sol looks up) “You see what you want to see. He fooled us all.”
These are some JUICY lines. We’re clearly encouraged to think of their pertinence to Sol, and the Order’s current ignorance of the dark side threat, as well as Sol’s own personal blinders with the Brendok mystery. But this is also the first time we see something key for the rest of this conversation - Mae blatantly projecting her own feelings onto half-hearted mimicry of what she assumes Osha might say.
In her projection, she expresses her own frustration at being misled by the Master, at wanting to believe his structure for Mae’s revenge against the jedi, and hence his shaping of Mae’s life path, was meaningful. I’ve seen Osha’s loneliness discussed a lot by the fandom, but Mae is winning a gold medal in the loneliness contest. She’s spent 16 years desperately searching for someone who understands her in the way she thought Osha did, and whatever kinship she hoped the Master had for her has just shattered. This adds another layer to her too-casual reaction to Sol’s grief. She doesn’t expect a Jedi to feel such love for their padawan, not just because she views the Jedi as dispassionate (which we’ll come back to later), but because her master never felt that way about her. In all these lines, Mae’s betrayal comes across beautifully.
But the mimicry of Osha? Mae failgirls that one. We know Osha to be a straightforward, direct person, rather than someone to speak in riddles, or spout superficially Jedi-style wisdoms with a distinctly-Mae core of cynicism.
This touches on another repeated theme of this scene — Mae clearly doesn’t understand how Osha feels about the Jedi, in a way that speaks to larger issues with understanding her sister as a person separate from herself, with different thought processes and values. When Mae speaks as Osha, it’s hard to tell what’s Mae speaking directly as herself, or Mae as how she thinks Osha thinks, but there isn’t much difference between those two — Mae assumes Osha reacts to situations as Mae would, treating her as a half of the same whole.
Feel free to skip this tangent if you’re just here for the Sol theory!!!!
I think it goes beyond not understanding Osha’s point of view — as the lovely @animazi put it, it’s as if Mae cannot conceive of Osha being a person outside their sisterly relationship and Mae’s coven-derived identity. It’s a complete disconnect of empathy, in that it doesn’t occur to Mae that she should try to empathise.
Mae wants to believe that they are fundamentally the same person. “You see what you want to see.” Mae wants to believe the only reason she and Osha are different is because one has been “corrupted” by the Jedi. She recognises that outside influences and different formative experiences have torn her apart from her sister, but she wants to believe that if Osha was plucked away from the Jedi, if she was taught rather than corrupted (haha I love this episode title), if she knew the ‘truth’ about Brendok, they could revert to a perfect sisterly harmony. A harmony based on Mae’s conception of them.
So of COURSE she doesn’t try to empathise with Osha’s current way of seeing, when she views it as both temporary and fixable, corrupted and false. Mae believes that, as soon as the falsehoods are stripped away, Osha will be herself again, in that Osha will be Mae. Mae believes Osha is simply Mae under a fragile Jedi veneer, explaining why so many of her lines in this scene are essentially Mae talking, with a half-hearted Osha bent.
Apologies for that detour, back to the scene. It’s very striking to me how Sol looks up for the first time in the middle of Mae’s mini-speech. There’s many interpretations for this look, yes, and you could argue he’s having a crisis about the Sol-related clouded vision stuff I mentioned earlier.
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But he seems confused, almost frightened, and then the camera comes back to him after Mae finishes, and I think this is the moment.
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Please look at these shots and tell me that’s not the face of someone for whom a thousand things have just clicked into place. We see him harden into some new realisation, and then…
“You found him.” (meaningful pause) “Your PIP droid.”
This line is such a non-sequitur that it’s actually what drove me to take another look at this scene. I assumed it was some janky prequel-esque dialogue, but now I’m not so sure. Saying “you found him” so soon after some ominous looks from Sol and the discussion of Qimir could, at the very least, be a nod to Mae’s role in everyone’s brush with the dark side. But, even then, Sol’s deflection to the droid doesn’t make full sense. And then I thought ‘oh shit’…………
After rewatching Episode 5, I’m convinced that Sol is aware PIP was sacrificed and really should not be back with “Osha”. For somebody afraid and grieving and running for their life to calmly find and fix their droid is… not Osha. It’s as if Sol raises the incriminating subject right after his realisation, just to confirm it to himself. And Mae, though slightly nervous, hands him that confirmation on a platter.
To bring back the clouded judgement line again, Sol was blinded. He wanted to have saved Osha, because he could not save anyone else. He wanted to have not failed Osha for the third time. Brendok, leaving the Order, now. It’s Sol in that room, looking at the holo. He wanted to have learned from his mistakes.
But now he knows it is NOT Osha, and the conversation gets 5000% more interesting. To me, his next few lines are gently testing Mae, playing along to see if he can evoke a reaction or a slip from her — if she’ll come clean or double down into the lie. It’s fascinating the way he’s half addressing a hypothetical Osha, and half addressing Mae.
So, first the droid lines, to see if Mae notices her mistake, and then…
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“I noticed the way you take care of him, talk to him, love him. Even though he is just a machine.”
This seems like something meant for Osha. It’s something Mae would expect of her sister’s overabundance of compassion, and so something that won’t make her suspicious. But I think the implication of Osha’s loneliness is deliberate, in that we know Mae is also deeply lonely and searching for connection in places it isn’t reciprocated. Down to you if you think the machine allegory is in reference to Mae’s master, and what that might say about Sol’s view of Qimir, or if this is a more take-it-as-written line, but I think it still emotionally resonates with Mae even if she doesn’t want it to. Her expression in this pause does seem to imply as much.
At the end of this speech, Sol moves into that area of shadowy lighting, which I WILL discuss later.
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Mae’s response, “I’ve always been like that. Even when I was little,” is also very telling. It’s her reminiscence of child Osha, as loving the small things, and having more reservations about… force-manipulating space hummingbirds? But, with Sol’s double meaning, this line is true of Mae too. Mae’s tendency to love clingily, desperately, in ways that aren’t “appropriate”, as we see in flashback Mae’s attempts to make her sister stay.
And then Sol’s response, a simple “I know”, fits this double conversation too. There’s a parental exhaustion, a heartache for his padawan, and his own (involuntary?) empathy for Mae, the abandoned sister. I think this’ll hit even harder once we know what happened on Brendok — Sol clearly knows more about Mae than he ‘should’.
The pause after this feels heavy, tense, even disappointed. Sol knows that Mae’s resigned to the act. With all this context and lead-up, Sol’s cagey behaviour in the last part of this scene now makes SO much more sense to me.
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“I had to lose a lot of myself in order to become a Jedi. Even if I didn’t know it at the time.”
I think this is said to provoke Sol into guilt, but speaks to Mae’s false conceptions of the Jedi, and they way they approach love — she assumes Osha must have had to lose her compassion. More importantly, this shows Mae still does not understand Osha’s motivations for joining the Jedi, and remains emotionally raw about it. How could her “compassionate” sister choose to leave the family who loved her? How could she abandon Mae if the Jedi had not “corrupted” her, had not taken that compassion and loyalty away?
She wants to believe in the Jedi as a stealing, malign influence, because she wants to attribute Osha’s departure to anything other than the fact that Osha and Mae are, at their core, different people. In believing they are the same, Mae still cannot fathom why Osha would choose to lose their family, their coven, their grander destiny, and above all their sisterhood, because this is something Mae would never choose. So of course Mae does not see what Osha loved about the Jedi, of course Mae views the Jedi as merely an agent of loss. A false dream that she must “kill” to bring Osha back to her.
(And this is without even going into whatever the hell the Jedi did on Brendok!)
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“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”
All this contextualises Sol’s cagey almost-apology. His body language is SO closed off and suspicious. I don’t think he’s even pretending to speak to Osha at this point — this is directly to Mae. He loves his padawan and supports her decision to join the Order, but regrets the collateral of that decision — a decision he still views as right.
I think that explains a lot about his reaction. He freezes up in the face of Mae’s depth of feeling, and is caught between his empathy and his loyalty to Osha. I’ll agree this is NOT the way to apologise to someone, but what he says is true to Sol — he’s not sorry Osha made the choice she did. But he’s sorry that Mae feels this way, has processed her loss the way she has. The reveal of what happened on Brendok will finalise what level of dickish this is, but it is at least LESS dickish than him saying this to Osha 😭
“How could I feel any other way” is exactly what I’ve said earlier. Mae cannot fathom how Osha could feel any differently than Mae does.
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And Sol avoids her eyes and sighs. I think it’s a mixture of regret, of resignation, and of still struggling to confront his own mistakes. That avoidance comes through in the final part of their conversation — a part I’m still struggling to unpack, though I think next week will reveal all.
We’ve seen Sol make several insistences that he’d tell Osha the truth about Brendok, and even this episode we see him prepared to tell the council. So his avoidance now is intriguing. You could argue that he was always going to quail from telling Osha, the way he kept promising it and then delaying it, but I think there’s something else going on.
I think now he knows it’s Mae, the person most damaged by his actions on Brendok, he falters. Aside from Mae’s specific victimhood, there’s also a difference between facing up to someone you trust and hope will have sympathy for you, and facing up to someone who’s just shown how wedded she is to her own way of seeing. The realisation that this is Mae has come so suddenly that in this moment he freezes and avoids. His coldness here is also notable — you could almost think that he resents Mae a little, for ruining this moment that was supposed to be Osha’s.
But is he really doing this for Osha? Did he want Osha to know for her own sake now she’s an adult and the protection excuse is wearing thin, or did he want to seek absolution from her? Is he hoping for a level of forgiveness that he cannot get from Mae? I guess we’ll find out next week…….
A few more notes on Sol before I finish…
Yes this is finally about the shadow thing. My first reaction to this was “hey leslye, what the fuck, OW.” Aside from the classic symbolism of a character stepping into shadow, this specific barred shadow is super reminiscent of the scene where Anakin speaks to Yoda in Revenge of The Sith. Given the topic of that conversation was about fear, passion and anger as paths to the dark side, a topic that Qimir also brings up this episode, I don’t think this is coincidental.
That said, I don’t think the shadows are straightforward Sol-will-fall symbolism. I think they’re emblematic of the emotions he’s struggling with as soon as he realises Mae’s identity. Fear, of the consequences Mae represents more than any other person. Defensiveness from her anger at him and her challenges to his worldview (and, lest we forget, the fact that she could still try to harm him). Perhaps some anger towards HER, for taking Osha, and this moment with Osha as he’d envisioned it, away from him. Anger for her role in the deaths of the other Jedi, at himself for the role HE had in creating Mae’s revenge. But, warring with these darker impulses, also regret, pity, sorrow for his padawan’s sister. That final remorse, in the way his face just slightly changes before the lights come up and the shadows disappear. Such symbolism Leslye I am eating the walls.
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Don’t get me wrong, Sol is a man on the edge and I’m excited (afraid?) to see which way the narrative takes him. I think he’s written deliberately enigmatic this episode, and his later scenes will make more sense next week. I have no idea why he switched off his comms and hyperspace jumped instead of facing up to the council. Well, that’s a lie, I have a few ideas…
The scene of Mae in restraints is also ambiguous, though I think it links back to Sol’s surprise at Mae’s identity, and initial freezing up when he realises he’s lost control of the Brendok-reveal. That final scene is him grasping for control back, to control some of his fears and put him in a (metanarrative) place where he feels able to monologue on his own terms next episode. I actually have a lot more thoughts on this scene, and the hyperspace jump, AND some predictions for next week, but they won’t fit in this post. Here [part 2] they are instead!
We’re absolutely meant to doubt Sol this episode. I think Teach/Corrupt is, like much of Episode 6, a title of deliberate double meaning. But I’m also struck by the fear and sorrow in his face in that lovely shot where he shoots Mae through the doorway. His fond, regretful tone of voice in “Oh, Mae…” Not to be Star Wars cliche, but I suspect the good in Sol will win out. If it doesn’t then that’s a heartbreaking twist and I’ll probably throw myself into the ocean!
Either way, this is an episodic mystery show and, much as I can unpick some of Sol and Mae’s behaviour, we’ll only know the full story with hindsight. Here’s to hoping at least some of my theory holds up, and thank you for reading!!!!!!
The Sol Patrol shall forge bravely (and perhaps delusionally) onwards! <3
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witchhuntress · 1 month ago
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Mai: Analysis of a Psychic (aka word vomit 😆)
The usual consensus of Anime Mai is that she’s stupid and often annoying😅 While she has the qualities of Light Novel Mai (who can also be stupid, yes), Anime Mai needed frequent particular explanations, w/c Naru usually singles her out for. She also often makes mistakes on idiomatic expressions for comedic relief. These don’t really often happen in the light novels, and it might be because of the usual shoujo trope to make female anime characters more clueless back in the days or the fact that the audience has to have someone as a layman’s guide, through that someone being the person who needs extra explanation. Hence, Anime Mai is an obvious foil to Naru and the others, but Light Novel Mai can feel less so because there are as many times that Mai knows more than Naru and the others as much as she doesn’t know some information in parapsychology.
I think it’s easy to cast Mai as uninteresting and annoying. After all, at the start, everyone else in SPR has extraordinary skills & knowledge that an ordinary high school girl like her does not have. However, as I said before, Mai does have a particular advantage in knowing urban legends, particularly where horror stories & the occult are concerned. While terminology can still confuse her and she makes blunders, she does have a great memory, and it’s also hilarious how Naru thinks her “jokes” can also be a case for study because Mai often says things lightly but what she says ends up as an important insight at the end.
Just think about it. Bou-san has his musician job and lives quite an isolated life outside of everything else. Ayako has other stuff to do in her life that keeps her busy. John is a translator while at the same time an exorcist and a helper at a clinic for less privileged foreign workers. Masako has school like Mai but she’s also a celebrity with her own duties and schedule. Yasuhara has college among other things. Overall, everyone else might not know all the current urban legends and or horror trends at present because they’re wrapped up with many other things. Naru and Lin have been looking for a certain place in their spare time, so they definitely might not take notice of all the occult practices in Japan as well.
This is where Mai comes in. Mai who’s sociable with everyone. Mai who has had many experiences telling horror stories after school. Mai who’s interested in learning about the latest urban legends & horror mysteries out there with her friends. Mai who actually has dabbled in the occult as a pastime. Mai who takes in information wherever she can get it, even knowing ventriloquism which she said to be rarely seen on TV. Mai has a curiosity for all things paranormal and unusual, so her knowledge for those can be as extensive as a common folk largely attuned to her neighborhood or society. She’s always carefree, but Naru has also paid attention to what she says more and more because she can say quite the most surprisingly inquisitive things.
This particular advantage of Mai has been set up from the very start when she was telling horror stories with her friends after her classes in the first ever Ghost Hunt case which happened at her school—when she asked Naru what he was doing there and when she noticed his demeanor and replies are weird. Throughout the light novels as well as the anime, we see bits and pieces of Mai’s knowledge subtly revealed—such as when she knew about the common patterns for Kokkuri-san or about Qi-gong. Her “muses” almost always end up leading Naru and even Lin to realize what curse or problem they’re dealing with.
While Mai’s perspective is how we learned about everyone & the cases, she’s not simply a bystander who works separately while others do the exorcisms. In fact, there’s much to be said about Mai’s development throughout the light novels, which the anime could only show partially due to its early end. Mai’s post-cognitive dreams have become more and more important in the anime too, but what the anime lacked due to its early season cutoff is that Mai’s growth as a psychic only ramped up from there.
If we think deeply about it, Naru actually hit the jackpot by employing Mai. After all, Mai’s psychic powers have been dormant for long and seems to have only awakened when she met Naru (and Gene) and started working with him. Of course, this is Ono-sensei’s plan for the story, but let’s just think of the implications for a moment. Since Mai started working with Naru, her psychic powers developed little by little. She does not only have post-cognitive dreams, she also has come to have precognitive dreams as well as ESP and astral projection ability. When you think about it, what are the chances really that Naru would hire a multi-faceted psychic like Mai? To see a truly latent psychic develop before his very eyes also can be quite interesting for a psychic researcher.
This leads me to the very thought that from the start of the story, it was actually Mai’s dormant powers that possibly led her to working with Naru. Once again, let’s trace back to how Mai actually injured Lin accidentally. She wasn’t supposed to go to the old building, but she did due to her curiosity & possibly “intuition.” In fact, from the first chapter of Volume 1, Mai clearly said that she had a “sudden” feeling of “seeing the old building.” I think what this inciting incident tells us from the get-go is that Mai has a really keen sense. She has always had it, but something called her to go nearer the old building at that instance as she was passing by. We can call it her ESP now, but at the start, it’s easy to think of it as her being stupid and curious.
Now, looking back at the following volumes, we see Mai’s keen sense and intuition being amplified and literally becoming crucial in Mai’s decision-making and solving the cases that followed. And the more cases SPR took, the more we see Mai grow into exorcism-lite to full-fledged purification in Forgotten Children.
Mai’s growth from being a simple assistant to someone who becomes more involved in spiritual activities feels so natural and meticulous. What really are the chances that this random girl Naru hired would suddenly show signs of being a latent psychic? It’s next to none to be honest. To see her growth can make anyone proud because while most of the characters are somewhat the same, Mai continues to grow with her abilities.
I think it’s no wonder why Naru continues to employ Mai. He’s actually getting more out of it in the long run lmao. Can you imagine how absolutely valuable it is to have someone who not only has post-cognitive dreams but also has precognitive dreams for every case? If you think about it, there are a lot of psychics and exorcists in the SPR team already (i.e., monk, medium, Catholic priest, etc.) that one or two are redundant, yet Mai still found a good spot in it where she ends up actually indispensable. As Gene’s messenger in a way, she is also getting information from a different source. Thinking about it, to be a consistent messenger of a medium’s ghost is also shamanistic.
Furthermore, Mai has also learned seals from Bou-san and Ayako, and she has also come to use them more and more throughout the series. In all honesty, isn’t that amazing as well? Because she’s always actually fusing Kuji-in (from Ayako) and Acala mantra (from Bou-san). The former can be taught in Shintoism as well as Shugendo while the latter is in Buddhism—different religions and practices overall. We see Mai go from not quite confidently fighting a Kodoku spirit in Yasuhara school’s infirmary to confidently saving Naru from a possessing murderer during Akumu no sumu ie. As Naru once said in After-school Hexer/Spellcaster, superior psychics can be “superior spellcasters,” and I think this applies to Mai now as she has grown so much as a psychic.
There’s another psychic ability Mai has that is rarely or hardly talked about. I like to call it her bat signal 🤣, but in parapsychological terms, it’s called emotive telepathy. Every time Mai is in danger, someone always comes to the rescue. In the anime, it’s always after she calls for someone to save her, but in the light novels, even if she doesn’t think so in her mind, her feeling of dread seems to always bring someone to her rescue. I believe this is a case of emotive telepathy.
I think this ability is closely linked with her “animal-like” senses as well. Recall that Mai has tested -100% in Naru’s ESP test for her. That’s a really interesting result because while you can think that she’s 100% always wrong, you can also think that 100% she always “chooses” the wrong answer—which, in other words, means she knows the right answers “unconsciously” but always goes for the wrong one. So to speak, it’s almost like she’s drawn to the wrong choice all the time, but we can also interpret this as her always being drawn to what her senses feel is wrong, like a negativity bias but stronger. In this way, she can tell a friend from an enemy, and to be able to tell an enemy with that 100% accuracy, that’s what I think makes her abilities actually impressive, although hilariously so.
There’s also this case where two people have a strong connection that makes this emotive telepathy possible. I think this is what Mai and Naru have. During the After-school Spellcaster/Hexer (Kasai Panic case) and Forgotten Children’s cases, Naru had sensed when there’s something wrong. What are the chances that Naru would pass by such a remote area that Mai had decided to explore when she was about to save a child in a manhole? The timing was impeccable, as we can say so. It could be a coincidence, as we can say so. But that’s not the first time it happens.
Recall that Naru also went to help her at Yasuhara’s school before a ceiling fell down again. Naru has strong psychic abilities, and because of that, I also think he and Mai could form a strong telepathic link, an emotive one at that. In Forgotten Children, when Mai sensed something wrong about the number of vehicles, the “children” wanted to isolate her immediately. That’s because they knew that she could be dangerous to their goals. Mai’s sense of something being wrong seems to immediately have been perceived by Naru. He was adamant that she shouldn’t go with the children. At that moment, I think Naru and Mai really were on the same wavelength of foreboding, and that really has become possible with their continued interactions throughout the series.
Now, let’s talk about the kind of exorcism or rather purification Mai can do. We know the exorcists in the team have different skills and knowledge. For Mai, it is similar to Masako and Gene’s. In particular, Gene taught Mai how to do a purification, but even so, it actually can be hard to think how anyone can do it without showing pity or sympathy. Gene didn’t really guide Mai word-per-word on what to say; she figured it out herself during the Forgotten Children case. Naru himself told her that she could persuade the teacher the same way she has always scolded him lmao. If you think about it, Mai is actually great at persuasion and she has always done so throughout the series. How many times has she persuaded Naru to believe her? And how many times has Naru clung to what she said?
That’s why, when she ventured to try purification as Naru and Gene encouraged, it seemed just natural how she would do it. Her sincerity always touched people so it just seems like her to be able to do it. I feel like it’s possible that she has always been a “guiding light” (not only to Naru) in the story even before she did her first purification, and this is probably why Gene met her. Just as Gene has been said to be her guide, it seems logical to think that Mai is also Gene’s guide in connecting with Naru.
As we all know, Naru and Gene had this twin channel for so long, but then it was not possible for them to communicate again (though indirectly it was through Mai and unknown to Naru for some time) until Mai came. This is where a lot of questions come from, but also come to make sense. Gene could have only been haunting the lake where he was thrown into, so how did he reach Mai? I feel like for a while Gene has been called to Mai’s dreams by following her “light,” and only when Naru found Gene’s body were the twins able to connect again. This “light” we can also call wavelength.
In any case, Mai’s growth throughout the series is really a sight to behold, but even more so, her connections with everyone are so dynamic and interesting. Gene had said in Akumu no sumu ie that Mai was easier to reach because of her wavelength, and at the same time, I think Gene was able to connect Mai’s dreams and Naru’s visions because her wavelength also more easily reaches Naru. While we can say that Gene lends Mai his powers, it’s also evident throughout the series that she has grown as a psychic and paranormal investigator herself, and her ability to hold the same wavelength as Gene is still commendable because clearly not everyone can do what she does.
There’s also a lot to be said about Mai’s mental capacity. It’s not easy to see gory visions in many cases. It’s also easy to lose hope in humanity from all the atrocities people can commit in real life to curse someone. However, it’s a relief that Mai is not alone, and I think having emotional support in the SPR team also helped wonderfully in her growth as a psychic. What a great found family TT
In summary, Mai is not the typical foil we often see in detective stories nor is she the typical orphaned heroine. There is a lot to be said about how untypical Ghost Hunt as a series is to be honest, and indeed, even now, we still don’t know what other psychic abilities Mai could possess or how they often work. For one, her astral projection ability has been there time and time again, and the fact she can transport a physical object to Masako that one time also is an unexamined case. We often think of Naru as mysterious, but I can say the same for Mai. After all, isn’t discovering a psychic randomly in the wild absolutely mysterious? And just when Naru needed a psychic like Gene too🥺It seems like Mai eventually answered Naru’s call to the universe in some way as he did hope for someone like that in After-school Hexer. Mai is definitely quite an unexpected discovery😅
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jokeroutsubs · 1 year ago
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Joker Out between dreams and reality (Val 202: Music 202) - Part 1: Bojan and Jan
Today, 3.08.2023, Slovenian national radio station Val 202 broadcasted a recent interview with Joker Out members Bojan Cvjetićanin and Jan Peteh. Below is the translation of the interview, which you can listen in the audio file above, or on this direct link.
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Interviewer: Joker Out, the five-man band that sent Slovenia into a frenzy and is well on their way to sending Europe into a frenzy too. After their Eurovision performance in Liverpool, a lot of doors opened to Bojan, Kris, Jan, Nace and Jure. And Joker Out are stepping through all of them with decisive steps. Massive crowds at their concerts at home and abroad, concerts until the end of the year in Serbia, Croatia, Poland, Scandinavia that sold out in minutes, and crowds of dedicated fans around the world who seem to know all the lyrics by heart, even though Slovenian is far from familiar to them. I talked about all that with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Jan Peteh, two of the founding members of Joker Out. To start with, I asked them whether they’re living their dreams.
Jan: Fortunately, we're living more than our dreams, we’re living our lives. Bur what’s happening right now was still a dream not so long ago, yeah.
Bojan: I passed the Museum of Modern Art yesterday and saw that they currently have an exhibition called “Don’t dream your dreams”, so… it’s better to live them.
How are you absorbing everything that’s happening right now? A Slovenian band that’s, let’s say, more “midstream”, has never managed to do what you’re doing right now. Are you watching that with excitement, wonder, maybe even fear?
Bojan: Yeah, it all definitely caught us a little unawares. It’s true that everything that’s happening now was absolutely our aspiration when we decided that we wanted to go to Eurovision this year. And what we secretly and not-so-secretly wanted really came true. But I’d say that you cannot be prepared for all that to really happen. It’s truly crazy to follow these moments when we announce a concert abroad in some city, often in cities we’ve never even been to, and before we can even all post “juhuhu”, it’s sometimes already sold out, so… I mean, damn.
Jan: Never in my life could I have imagined that I’d see a full venue in Glasgow or London sing our songs in Slovenian, so moments like that are definitely the highlight of every week and month. But then there’s a big contrast when you come from that somewhat surrealistic experience into the quiet of your own home, and you’re at home for a few hours. Because you don’t know if this is real life or just a dream, or if you’re shifting between them. So it’s unusual, but… I’m enjoying it immensely.
Jan has pointed out that even abroad, fans sing Joker Out songs in Slovenian. After one of their recent concerts in the UK, I saw a comment on social media that went something like this: “I didn’t understand a word, but that was the best concert in my life.”
Jan: That’s what Bojan says at the start of every concert, “prepare to not understand a word for the next hour and a half.” But people are screaming, enjoying themselves. And some even pretend to understand the songs, even though they probably don’t.
Bojan: Well, that’s the main point of music, right? Music is special exactly because you don’t have to understand it, you just have to feel it. But it is weird for us because we’re not used to this happening with Slovenian language. Especially because… really from the moment we started making music, everyone was telling us that first of all, with Slovenian you can’t even make it in Slovenia, second of all, absolutely no way you could make it in the Balkans, and we’re not even going to talk about breaking into other foreign countries.
Bojan says that even with the upcoming songs, and hence with the new third album, they will not forget their mother tongue. Especially because they recognise you can achieve a lot even if you don't sing exclusively in English. Their ambition to tell an even bigger story, to expand to larger venues and to have a new, larger fan base is turning things around.
Bojan: As you mentioned in the beginning, we are a mainstream band. In mainstream music it is always a good idea to include the masses and make your music easily accessible to them. We have witnessed an initial push of interest after Eurovision, with some fans genuinely drawn to us as musicians. They're really, really committed to learning the material, because they want to come to the gigs and enjoy themselves. They're taking it to the max and that's phenomenal. And it's also our aspiration to grow. After all, writing songs in different languages is, by definition, a kind of musical experiment.
Kris (in the background): And a challenge.
Bojan: Yes, absolutely a challenge. We're not setting off to write the third album as an English only album, of course. We've decided that we want to do a multilingual album, it will absolutely include Slovene, Serbian and English, and hopefully include some Spanish and French language as well. That is something we want to play with.
Not only Slovenian and English, the other languages represent a challenge as well, say Joker Out. Speaking of the third album, it's already, let's say, marinating, in the making. Joker Out is also a band that has not suffered the so-called curse of the second album. It was, dare I say it, was even better than the debut. Are you concerned about the possible third album curse?
Jan: Our Demons have obviously defeated the curse of the second album. As for the progress of the third album, we recently had our first really creative rehearsals since December, when we were working on Carpe Diem in Hamburg. From then on, we've accumulated so much creative potential, that it simply poured out of us during those few rehearsals. Now each time we get to our rehearsal space, our need to create becomes so intense that I think if we keep this up, we won't have to worry about the demons of the third album either.
As Jan points out, they are not lacking in creative inspiration. Bojan agrees, adding that in recent months they have often been 'emotionally shocked'. This means that emotions have boiled up and things that they were not used to before have been happening, which made it difficult to process certain situations. Last week, Joker Out parted ways with one of the members of their core team, who found himself under an avalanche of criticism, especially on social media, for inappropriate behaviour. The news of the termination of the collaboration was followed by many thanks from fans that the band members had not only heard the message, but had also taken action about it.
Bojan: Yes. We have really had a very, very complex situation that we have always hoped would never happen to us, but as we said in the statement, we hope and believe that it will never happen again. What has happened was that one of our team members has created an unpleasant atmosphere with our fans, with our listeners, in a repetitive, how shall I say... Pattern. He often chose the wrong words, and this in turn led to many feeling, I would say, unpleasant, uncomfortable. Both at our concerts and on social media. And that is something that is absolutely unacceptable for us. We have always tried to put 1000% positive energy out at our concerts and share it with people, and the people also gave that energy back to us, so any disruption of that process is, as I said, unacceptable to us. And we absolutely had to say goodbye to this member.
The singer of Joker Out says it was the right decision and the band stands by it, adding that they have learned a lot from this experience. If nothing else, they have realized the true power of social media. They have learnt that it can bring a lot of good things, but there are also a lot of bad things that you can't be prepared for.
Bojan: I have to say that, yes, I've withdrawn from social media now, because I want to make this album under positive influences, not negative influences, and really, on social media I feel like I'm trapped in a world that I don't really want to be trapped in. So, yeah, for example, let's say two days ago, I was really negatively shocked, or affected by a moment when... We had a concert in Ptuj, which was a really specific experience, because I was having a panic attack on stage for an hour and a half, and I was just thinking about whether or not I was going to faint or not. I don't know why, whether it was the air, whether it was too much coffee, or what happened, but it really wasn't a pleasant concert for me, so within 20 minutes after the show I was rushing home, right. But on Twitter there was this post, some girl who said that I... that some security guard or somebody on my behalf invited her backstage after the concert. Which, whoever was there, including the organiser, knows wasn't even remotely true, because as soon as I got out of the shower, hands shaking, I got into the van and went home, sitting next to Nace, bag in hand, so as not to throw up right there in the car. So, there are some things we are not prepared for. There are dimensions that are a whole new world for us.
In the second part of the interview with Joker Out on "Val 202" (name of the radio station, "Wave 202"), we're sticking to departures and leaving. Joker Out is a group where two band members were replaced in the past seven years. The drummer Matic was replaced with Jure and the bassist Martin with Nace. That's why I am interested in how replacements influence the group or rather the ahmosphere in the group. A music group has to breathe as one. Jan says that each member brings a different energy to the team. He's convinced that one half of the first album and the whole second album would have sounded totally different if the drummer Jure hadn't joined them.
Jan: At this point, I'm simply happy that it happened, and it goes for Nace as well. Because now, I can hardly imagine two better persons for this band or better friends.
Jure (in the background): Awww!
Bojan: The fact is, members leaving a band is definitely a very difficult thing. We've had five members in the band since its creation. And as Jan said, when the energy changes, the balance that was there gets disrupted. Now there are only two possible scenarios. One is that the new energy is less suitable for the collective and the whole balance is brought down. Or that it is more positive and elevates the whole thing. I believe the universe helped us somehow; in both cases the energies that joined us, pushed us into new realms of creativity, positivity, literally everything in a very short time. So, I know that everything happened here just the way it had to happen. Even if you ask Martin, who just left the band, because he wanted to pursue another path in his life. You can ask him now, I know, because I live with him, because we are roommates. He is the luckiest man because, in the same short time that we have started branching out in new directions, his personal spheres have taken off in the best possible way, and he is, as we say, kicking ass. We can say that by 2023, everything that went on has happened as it should have.
Everything happened like it was supposed to happen, says Bojan. Also in Liverpool on the Eurovision stage. Barely three months later, Joker Out are living the life they could have only dreamed about. Masses of fans, sold out concerts and a feeling that only the sky is the limit. Is the current success partly or solely due to Eurovision, that's our next topic.
Bojan: It's absolutely not just a consequence of what happened in Liverpool because that was just one big catalyst for everything that we've been doing as a band since the beginning. (It also has to do with) how we dealt with Liverpool. Because what is happening today, as I said, was planned. We didn't know to what extent it was going to be realized, but it was a plan. Liverpool has made a difference for us in a way that no other night in this world can make because it has literally brought us, in one night, bizarre numbers of new audiences that we could not have imagined before. So, in one sense, yes, that is what Eurovision did for us; we cannot deny it. But on the other hand, it was us who did it.
Jan: In harmony, Eurovision and Joker Out, hand in hand.
Bojan: Together forever Joker Out, hand in hand.
Jan: *singing* # Together forever #
Together forever. Behind the group Joker Out is 7 years of creating. For the very end, a question, where do they see themselves in 7 years.
Jan: Now I've had a couple of people ask me recently how do you handle it when there's so much going on. To me, it seems like a primary school experience, where every year, the new grade is a little bit harder, but you're also evolving from the previous years. So, if we were thrown from zero to where we are now, we wouldn't even know where to begin. We have quite a bit of experience behind us now. It's a very steep road, exponentially growing, mathematically speaking, and I'm glad that we are at a point where nobody is confining us to a certain determined path that we should follow, but it's all up to our own volition. Whatever we decide to do, we will do, and I think that we can be very happy about this kind of artistic freedom. So, I'm also very excited and eagerly awaiting to see where this will take us.
Bojan: Here, Jure is suggesting that in 7 years we'll be doing Wembley. There was an idea that we should book Wembley now for the year 2030 and we release the tickets today. It would be the first concert in the world, where the tickets would be sold 7 years in advance. Then we'll wait and see what happens. If something will happen, it'll happen; if not ... it will get canceled due to illness.
All: (laughter)
Translation cr: @kurooscoffee, @beeoftheanxieties, drumbeat, +2 anonymous jokeroutsubs members
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ineffable-opinions · 5 months ago
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MAME & BL Literacy Part 1
Another MAME show is airing and I thought it was good time to discuss what makes that author controversial.
As usual, critiques and corrections are welcome.
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For those who don’t know MAME is a unique Thai BL creator. I have discussed in a previous post (that can be found here and here) how Thai BL is lacking in BL literacies. MAME is one of the exceptions. This is because:
she is a BL author & hence, one of the creators of BL literacies
she studied BL and its production academically [you can find her research output by searching her name: อรวรรณ วิชญวรรณกุล]
then she started producing live action BL.
In an industry which is lacking in BL literacies, what she brings to the table is fu-culture (BL fan culture) in all its glory. Unfortunately, the live action audience who are fans of sweet BL, have a hard time adjusting.
This is an exploration of response to her works, starting with the review of Love by Chance @waitmyturtles discussing all the ships in that series: AePete, TinCan, TarTum and KengklaTechno. This pretty much ties up what I identify as the first issue with BL literacies deficiency and MAME’s knowledge.
Here are some typical narrative progressions for a (Japanese) BL:
あまあま – sweet
ユニーク – unique
シリアス – serious
邪道 – evil road (Jadō)
王道 - royal road (odo)
Any theme/one-line plot can choose to take any of these narrative progressions. Moreover, Thai BL usually originates online which allows for innovation in narrative progression.
AePete
In Love by Chance AePete follows the typical sweet BL narrative progression. Sweet BL is characterised by an overall sweet flavor (characters, mainly the pairing, would be sweet in behaviour and motivation) and relationship progression is pretty smooth. This is the narrative progression that GMMTV sticks to. I have discussed their reasons as well as why it might not be a good thing in the long run here.
KengklaTechno
Their story follows jado narrative progression.
Quick note about Jado BL & Kengkla as a kichiku seme
One or more characters in a ship being emotional aggressors, physical abusers, sexual predators or outright villains is a very common trope in BL genre. These are popular sub-types (most notable: brute kichiku 鬼畜) of seme/uke/riba with these specific attributes and they have dedicated fans who thoroughly enjoy such characterizations. But these are clearly not everyone’s cup of tea. Some BL fans find these themes unbearable. That is why GMMTV and other BL live-action producers who don’t want to upset any of their audience members usually:
avoid such characterizations all together especially with sweet narrative progression
tries to soften such characters into more universally palatable forms
tries to redeem those characters by getting rid of those with odo – this is what currently airing My Stand-In would do.
make them villains – never making them the protagonists who gets any kind of happy ending
This is done not to trouble the average audience’s worldview (世界観) and is clearly a low effort and low skill (in terms of BL literacies) approach. But since a lot of audience don’t appreciate villain-like characterization, it is clearly low risk, no chance of a backlash from angry audience and the best method for assured money making.
Occasionally BL live-action producers venture into the risky terrains, especially with jado. The Japanese does it a lot, usually in movie format. China and Taiwan also delve into jado fairly regularly. But live action Thai BL seldom does anything commercially dangerous.  
In a jado BL, a character might do terrible things and manipulate the other character(s) in the ship. But won’t feel remorse, apologize and improve for better. This is a violation of the expectation placed on characters on sweet narrative progression. Sweet BL audience do not expect characters in a ship to be anything but good to each other, especially after they have become a couple. While audience don’t mind characters making mistakes, in this narrative progression audience also expect characters to learn from their mistakes and to grow closer by earning and giving forgiveness.
In jado BL that focuses on characters being villains, there are no such expectations. These BL work within the confines of their own worldview which don’t necessarily match with our IRL worldview. Characters are allowed to act in ways that goes against our everyday perception of what is right and what is wrong. Neither the characters nor the audience expect the characters to right their wrong, to apologize or to get punished, through judicial procedure or otherwise. Happy endings are not after reparations and resolution of issues, it would be in spite of those. Bad endings aren’t necessarily punishments for bad actions committed throughout the narrative, that’s just the ending of that story. Unlike with the BL with sweet narrative progression, these BL are not necessarily stories of two or more guys falling in love. Neither is their love (if at all there is love) expected to be healthy and wholesome. (It can be wholesome but it is just as well if it is not.) There are expectations from such narrative progressions too and resolution to most issues aren’t among those expectations. Clearly not everyone’s cup of tea, especially if they expect BL to be didactic like fables.
Problem getting papered over is the expected approach in jado. When characters get together/get back together with “problems” never really dealt with, it is proper meriba (merry bad ending). Plain bad ending where there is no resolution is also typical in jado BL.
Moreover, it is difficult to sell BL with jado and other narrative progressions. It becomes even more difficult to sell branded pairings when the characters they play are not impeccable. It is unlikely that actors playing bad guys can sell products for advertisers. (Imagine the characters from The Effect being in ads together!) It is even more unlikely that fans would go broke behind wicked characters and would want to attend fan-meetings and concerts featuring them in some way.
Kengkla is two-faced and an excellent yandere. He appears to be a cute and innocent junior in front of Techno. Audience also gets to see him in Machiavellian mode. This is something that Techno doesn’t have access to, at least in Love by Chance. Techno’s brother is his facilitator in the narrative, which in turn makes him two-faced too. Techno is not omniscient and Kengkla manages to trap him. And that’s where Love by Chance ends.
TarTum
There pairing is an excellent example of MAME’s skilled employment of BL literacies. TarTum is a sweet BL, complicated by them being step-brothers. While their pairing is barely odo, Tum as a character has a complicated odo progression. Horrors from his past haunts him. The journey is going to be complicated. It won’t be linear. There would be slip up on his part and that of others. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel. Those who love odo do so because of the pleasurable pay off, much more than sweet BL. It is a rollercoaster, and that’s why fans like it.
TinCan
This is another pairing with sweet narrative progression but with a rare dynamic: weak seme x weak uke, i.e., neither of them is strong in their pursuit. This is a notoriously tough dynamic to write, so much so that there are relatively few BL with this dynamic.
Multiple Pairings in a Piece
This is something I personally appreciate a lot. It is not often that we get a piece with different pairing with different types of narrative progressions. Authors choose this method and build universes so that they can reach the biggest audience.
A lot of people enjoyed Love by Chance because they could enjoy AePete. While I understand, I don’t relate to that. AePete was my least favourite pairing among them all. I enjoy dangerous characterizations over subdued ones and prefer a meriba over a happy ending. While there are plenty of BL media with those, they are rare in live action. In my first watch, I was constantly tempted to find fan-edits of every couple other than AePete. So, what is time wasted for some is actually really enjoyable moments for another. MAME gets that and I appreciate her for that.
Queerness, heterosexism and ‘Asian’ culture
@waitmyturtles also discusses “a kind of macro cishet perspective on AePete relationship” in relation to “Ae’s randiness and jealous tendencies” and Pete’s response or lack thereof as well as “Ae not being able to take Pete’s help, and Ae’s tendency towards stereotypically masculine POVs and behaviors” tied to “MAME’s story structure here is based in Asian cultural homophobia, in stereotypes of how the queer community should act by way of societal expectations in Asia.”
To unravel that:
I don’t know what “cishet perspective” means in relation to AePete, a pairing consisting of two androphilic male characters. I also don’t know what were the expectations on Ae and Pete in terms of randiness and jealousy.
More interesting I think is the question underlying the statement about Ae’s performance of “stereotypically masculine POVs and behaviors”. Now, what does that mean? In order to understand that it is important to figure out which type(s) of masculinity Ae would subscribe to based on his class, ethnicity and where he comes from (Thai masculinities show considerable variation with location). It will be meaningful to evaluate Ae’s behaviour with respect to: a) what he thinks is the “manly” thing to do b) what Pete does
Take “Ae not being able to take Pete’s help” for example. In their 2021 paper ภาพแทนชายรักชายในนวนิยายยาโออิ เรื่อง รักนี้บังเอิญคือคุณ [The Representation of Homosexual Men in the Yaoi Novel: My Accidental Love Is You] Phuwadech Doungmanee, Panunda Lerlertyuttitham & Natthanai Prasannam goes deep into this:
MAME employs four typical prejudices against male homosexuality perpetuated within the Thai society to create conflicts within the plot: 1) male homosexuality unacceptably deviates from the social norms 2) male homosexuality must not be “out” 3) male homosexuality brings disappointment and shame to the family, and 4) male homosexuality cannot earn true love; love must be purchased instead.
Pete trying to purchase Ae’s love is implied when he is offering ‘help’. This is a stereotypically masculine behaviour and an elitist one at that. As with other stereotypes listed above, this one too gets treated well (with Ae’s refusal to accept) even thought it might not seem so from a Western heterosexist lens.
Along with discursive clashes challenging earlier beliefs, those who hold the prejudices tend to be judged by poetic justice. The author thus educates the society and reading public on alternatives views in relation to male homosexuality. (source: The Representation of Homosexual Men in the Yaoi Novel: My Accidental Love Is You)
There is no one Asian culture. Here are the three popular types of masculinities in Thailand (these are very different from Malayali and Tamil masculinities I am personally familiar with):
Monk
secular male - chaai chatri (ชายชาตรี): embodies typical masculine features such as ‘authority, courage, self-assurance, physical and emotional strength, and sexual prowess’ as well as someone who ‘would under normal circumstances control his sexuality as much as possible and be loyal to his family.’
lower-middle-class - nak leng (นักเลง): ‘a man who is brave, daring, risk-taking but also fair.’ In more recent decade: ‘a man who is tough, loyal to allies and a playboy with numerous sexual affairs.’
Both Ae and Pete are very masculine in very different forms. MAME is not only familiar with different forms of masculinities and femininities, and their region-specific variations, but also plays around with it a lot. The male femininity is also achieved in both the characters in a similar manner. All of this might easily escape the audience members who have limited understanding of Thai masculinities and femininities.
Pete isn’t shown to be unsettled by Ae’s randiness because it is an interplay of two different masculinities done with grace. Pete not only plays the polished, prince-role to a kunlasatree (กุลสต กุ รี; a stereotypical good woman, defined as ‘proficient and sophisticated in household duties; graceful, pleasant, yet unassuming in her appearance and social manners; and conservative in her sexuality’), he is also an out-and-out chaai chatri.  
Physical Relationships and Explicit Content
One of MAME’s contributions to BL is in the toppling of certain beliefs, guided by sexism, BL live action creators were operating under prior to her.
Sathaporn Panichraksapong, an MD of GMMTV, a major producer of BL series, claimed that audience members who are mainly heterosexual women look for romantic relationships among the characters rather than sexual relationships.
We know that our audience are [sic] women. Women want to see only two boys having romantic moments together. They don’t want to see sex. Sexual relationships in BL are for a gay audience. That’s why in SOTUS the Series we have only two kissing scenes. With only these, audiences were already screaming. This is enough for them. (Interview with Sathaporn, GMMTV, 10 Aug. 2017)
Jirattikorn, Amporn. “Heterosexual Reading vs. Queering Thai Boys’ Love Dramas among Chinese and Filipino Audiences.” (2023).
As Jirattikorn goes on to highlight, this [wrong] perception about the audience (“women”) have changed ever since.
While early BL series tend to portray pure love without showing many sexual relationships, later BL series started to show more sex scenes between the two male lead characters.
Jirattikorn (2023)
Trauma & Porn
Itai Itai Itai (if you know, you know)
To claim that it is Asian cultural homophobia that MAME leveraged in Love by Chance through the inclusion of gang rape, incest, and unhappy ending is doing a disservice to BL and other queer genres including gei comi, all of which are well known for both trauma and porn. Aof Noppharnach and Cheewin’s lack of BL literacies is evident in their works. The way Aof Noppharnach shamed the use of the term เมีย ‘wife’ in Bad Buddy in spite of its usage by queer people, especially the little people among them, is evidence enough of the contempt and disregard he can bring in through his positionality as an “auteur”. To compare him to MAME is a little callous, especially when MAME constantly questions positionality and power through the stories she tells.
MAME’s trauma or lack thereof is none of anyone’s concern. So is what she does with it.
But the assumption that trauma in BL is a product of an author who themselves went through it is ludicrous and ignorant because BL from the days of tanbi (and its predecessors) have been engaging with it. There is already half a century’s history of BL with trauma and taboo themes.  
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you can find the review discussed in this post here:
This is Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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