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anonniemousefics · 4 years

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Stars In The Darkness

Originally posted on AO3

Fandom: Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom | Kaz + Inej

Word count: 9,042

****Rating: NSFW (aged up characters)****

This is the conclusion to The Trouble With Wanting series, companion piece to Wildfire

TW for PTSD, heavy angst. An obligatory quarantine fic cuz I was in quarantine when I wrote this, lol.

KAZ

No mourners. No funerals.

Kaz Brekker leaned over the new porcelain sink in the bathroom attached to The Slat. He clutched both sides, sweat pouring from his forehead.

No mourners. No funerals.

He’d been saying the phrase so long, it had started to lose its meaning. For that he hated himself. Did anyone at all even understand what it meant? Had he ever even told anyone?

No mourners. No funerals.

Jordie had died alone, forgotten. No funeral. Not a single mourner. And he’d loved Jordie. His big brother had been his hero, his whole world, and no one else knew what the world had lost.

This alone should have crushed him. It would have. Instead, he made it his calling card. Jordie Rietveld, the original Crow. He didn’t need mourners. He didn’t need a funeral. No one did.

Because if the world hadn’t mourned Jordie, why should it mourn anyone else?

His stomach was threatening to heave again, and he white-knuckled the sink, breathing hard. Fuck. It had been years since it had been this bad. He stared at his bloodshot eyes in the mirror, demanding he get a fucking grip on himself.

No mourners. No funerals.

He thought he had been free. He’d spent well over a year on the puzzle of Inej Ghafa, and he thought that could have been enough. She loved him, she’d said so. And, gods, he loved her.

He’d been a fool to think that would be enough.

Now reality was sinking in with every toll of the plague alarm. He hadn’t banished any ghosts. He hadn’t buried any bodies. All he’d managed was to condition himself like a dumb lap dog, performing a trick so he could get a treat. And all the while, the dead had waited. And all the while, Jordie had watched.

And now Ketterdam would have its pound of flesh. Because he could blame Pekka Rollins until he was old and grey, but what had killed Jordie Rietveld had always been the plague. And there was no fighting the plague.

No mourners... No funerals…

It sounded insane now, because what the fuck was he supposed to do when the plague took Inej, too? Was he really going to stand there, stoic and unmoving, while the bodymen took her away? Was he really going to go on living, knowing her final resting place was a mass grave?

He’d been a fool. Such a damn, stupid fool.

And now he really couldn’t breathe. He was a fish out of water, his vision blurring as his throat closed around every inhale.

“Kaz!” Someone was pounding on the bathroom door. “Kaz, let me in.”

How many days until the bodies started piling up? How long did he have? Was there any way to get them out of the city? They all needed to get out. Inej, Jesper, Wylan. Anika, Pim, Rotty, Roeder. It was the only way. The only way to keep from losing everything again.

“Kaz, I will break down this door. Answer me, damnit.”

The king of Ravka owed him favors. Maybe it wasn’t too late to call them in—

INEJ

Fuck it.

Inej threw all of her weight into a massive kick, just above the bathroom doorknob. The door rattled and bowed, and the flimsy lock ripped through the doorframe as the door swung open.

Inside, Kaz staggered back from the sink, pale and perspiring. She’d never seen him looking so sloppy in her life. He hadn’t changed out of his dark sleeping trousers from the morning, but had managed to throw on a white undershirt that was now sweat-stained. And if he was startled, it lasted only a moment before he glared at the broken doorframe.

“Did you forget how to pick a lock?” he growled.

“Did you forget how to unlock a door?” Inej retorted. “I’ve been here almost an hour – how long have you been in here?”

But when she took a step towards him, he flinched back, holding a hand out to keep her away, and it was like they were nothing but street trash teenagers all over again. A knife twisted in Inej’s chest as she saw how his breathing labored, his gaze wouldn’t meet hers. For nearly a year, he’d made slow, steady progress with touch – so much so, she’d almost forgotten what his suffering looked like.

Now, it was worse than ever. He was pressing himself back against the far wall, clamping a hand over his mouth like he was trying not to be sick.

“Breathe,” she told him, calmly. “Just breathe, Kaz. We’re here, together, safe in The Slat. Breathe.”

Kaz clenched his fists at his sides and drew in a stubborn, fighting breath through his nose. Outside, the plague alarms tolled.

“Those goddamn bells,” he rasped.

“I know, they’re awful,” Inej agreed. “When you’re feeling better, I’ll climb up and dismantle them.”

He opened his eyes long enough to shoot her an irritated glance.

“They serve a crucial function, Wraith.”

“Ok. I’ll leave them alone.”

“They’re preventing the spread of disease.”

“I said I’d leave them alone! Take a breath.”

And Kaz slid his back against the wall until he came to sit on the floor, defeated and spent.

KAZ

He was equal parts relieved she was back and terrified she was here with him. When he’d told her to get as far away as she could, he’d meant it. If she could get away from the necrotic infection that was his Ketterdam, she could live, and he could live knowing at least she was safe.

And now he was angry because why couldn’t she just listen to him? What did she know about firepox? What did she know about surviving a mindless, faceless killer?

He tried to heave a deep breath, but his throat felt like it was closing in. Bloated, dead flesh crowded against his ribs, his arms, his face, dragging him deeper toward the cold, unyielding darkness. He couldn’t stop shaking.

“I went to the docks,” came Inej’s calm voice. He was aware that she’d sat on the tile floor across from him, and he wasn’t sure yet if it made it better or worse. Just that morning, he’d had her bare and in his bed, writhing in his sheets and calling his name, and now he could hardly look at her without imagining her dead.

“You went to the docks,” he echoed, trying to find the present.

“Made sure the crew could find safe lodging for the foreseeable future,” Inej went on. “They’re saying it started in West Stave. Twelve new cases since yesterday. But I think our chances are pretty slim at this point. You’ve been chained to your desk for weeks, and I only docked yesterday. And we spent the evening arguing and pouting instead of going out.”

“I don’t pout.”

“It was me. I was pouting.”

“This is helping. Keep talking.”

“Bad news is they’ve shut down all businesses, so The Crow Club’s empty.”

“Fuuuck.”

“Good news is you and I now have unlimited liquor for the duration of this quarantine. And you look like you could use some. I’ve wanted to learn to mix drinks anyway. I could make you that fruity pink thing Sturmhond got sloshed on.”

“Dirtyhands doesn’t get sloshed on fruity pink things.”

“No one needs to know.”

His throat had opened up, and Kaz drew in a long, deep, shaking breath. The darkness had stopped its impending approach, and he was suddenly exhausted. His eyelids felt swollen when he opened his eyes again and looked over at Inej. His brave, brilliant girl. She was cross-legged in front of him, still dressed for the sea: tight olive-green trousers and a loose white blouse, her hands in her fingerless gloves and her long, oil-black braid resting over one shoulder. She was beautiful and commanding and alive, and it made his heart ache.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” she asked. Her voice was softer now; she’d exchanged her light-hearted ribbing now that Kaz was no longer a gasping mess.

Kaz rubbed at his eyes. His mind was a fog, every thought spread out in disarray. He could only say the first thing that bubbled to the surface.

“You deserve so much more than this.”

“An admirable deflection, but that’s not it.” Inej slit her eyes at him, reading him like a book. Annoying. This wasn’t something he’d considered when she’d told him to take off the armor. He’d wanted to get laid; he didn’t want a damn mind reader.

That wasn’t exactly true, though, was it? But maybe it was a necessary lie. He was too attached, and this loss would not be one he could survive.

“You’re being a fool, Wraith,” Dirtyhands rasped.

INEJ

“Am I?” Well, well, well. So, this is how it was going to be, was it? Inej knew Dirtyhands when she saw him. She could tussle with this bastard all day. Sometimes she even liked it. “How so?”

Kaz’s pale face was set in a glare; he wanted a fight. And if he hadn’t tried this before, it may have even rattled Inej.

If anyone had seen their first kisses, they might have mistaken Kaz and Inej for an old married couple. The only kind of kiss either of them could handle was merely a brief peck on the cheek or the lips, as chaste as a greeting between relatives. Their bodies wouldn’t even brush. It had to look ridiculous, but Inej told herself it was good practice. Someday, they could have something like a real kiss, she told herself. For now, this was enough.

The last night before Inej was to set sail again, they sat opposite each other on the windowsill of The Slat, propped up against the frame, while Inej coaxed crows with breadcrumbs and made sure Kaz didn’t fall out the window. He’d had a couple drinks too many with Jesper and was more than a little amusing.

“I have a secret,” he slurred. He leaned his head back against the open window frame, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Just one?” Inej quirked an eyebrow. Kaz gave a drunken chortle.

“Good point.” He pointed at her. “Clever, clever Wraith.”

“What’s your secret?” Inej asked, with an amused smirk. Kaz gave a sloppy nod.

“It is terrifying to me that you live on a boat,” he confessed with a slow blink. Inej frowned.

“You bought me the boat,” she said. Kaz kept nodding, wide-eyed.

“I did,” he said. “A whole damn boat. And it looks so good on you, Inej. So good.”

“Thank you.” Inej tried to hide a laugh.

“But I spend every day trying to convince myself that you’re not drowning. It’s – it’s not fun, Inej. It’s the opposite of fun – what’s the word?”

“There are many to choose from,” Inej shrugged. “Is this fear because of…?” She wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject. The night he’d told her about nearly drowning, of using his brother’s body to swim to shore from Reaper’s Barge, had been the first time she’d ever seen tears in his eyes. She wasn’t proud of it, but it had startled her. It had thrown the balance of her world off so harshly that she’d tracked down Pekka Rollins that very night and carved his skin until she felt the scales tip again.

“Probably,” was all Kaz would admit, and he rested one cheek against a gloved fist.

Inej considered this while she threw crumbs to the crows. She cared for him, so very much. And any time she thought of him as that abandoned little boy in the harbor, her insides crumbled.

“You should come out on the water with me,” she told him. “Let me show you it’s not what you remember.”

“Pass,” Kaz announced, a little too loudly.

“We could start small,” Inej persisted. “Take a little skiff on the canals.”

“The canals are disgusting.” Kaz practically looked petulant, like she was forcing vegetables on him. “Do you have any idea how many drunks piss in those canals? I’ve taken a piss in those canals.”

Inej grimaced with a groan, but she wasn’t giving up on this idea now that it had seized her.

“I’m a sea captain, Kaz,” she said. “I’ve got you. You will not fall into the canals unless I decide you’re going to fall into the canals. And I haven’t decided yet; it depends on how nice you are to me.” She gave a prim little tilt of her chin as she shot him a coy glance. He was smiling like a silly fool.

“I want to kiss you,” he declared, and even though she knew he was drunk, her face still burned.

“Maybe you should,” she dared.

And for a moment, he sat still and stiff against the window frame, and she thought he would change the subject. But then, he swung his legs back inside the room and limped to where she sat. He towered over her, leaning against the window frame as he gazed over her face, and Inej watched the darkness in his eyes, holding her breath, praying that this time it could go differently.

Then, slowly, he lifted one gloved hand to her chin, tilting her face up just slightly. She shivered at the brush of leather, missing the warmth of his hands but conceding this for now. And it hardly mattered considering the way he looked at her, his eyes like languid pools of chocolate, melting her.

He cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing her bottom lip, and she drew in a breath. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a nervous swallow, and she hardly dared to move as he slowly bent down, the tip of his nose brushing hers for a brief moment, before he brought his lips to touch hers.

And Inej wanted to pull him closer, to taste his mouth, to know that he burned for her just as she burned for him, but instead she waited, terrified this time that she could spook him with any sudden movements. And for a moment, it seemed to work.

For a moment, his eyes slid closed. For a moment, he held her there, brushing his lips over hers, dipping in to meet her mouth completely. Thank the Saints, she thought, her eyes closing, giving in. Thank you, thank you.

But only for a moment.

Because a moment later, his whole body went rigid, and he startled the crows away when he wrenched away with a gasp. Inej had to grab the window frame to keep from falling and really destroying the evening. And Kaz staggered backwards, crushing his eyes closed tight with a hand clamped over his mouth. Inej leapt after him before he could tip backwards, as unsteady as he was with drink.

“Don’t,” he growled, pushing her back instead as he swayed and regained his balance. “Stay back.”

And as harsh as it sounded, it was still improvement. It was more than they’d ever had before, and he wasn’t vomiting or fainting, even with a fair amount of kvas in him. The kiss, as small as it was, left Inej dazzled. She stepped back from him, holding her hands out so he knew he had his space.

But Kaz wasn’t as satisfied. Far from it. In fact, he gave a frustrated roar and then turned and put his fist through the wall.

Inej barely had time to give a startled yelp. If he hadn’t have been wearing his gloves, Kaz surely would have torn his hand to shreds. As it was, he was holding it gingerly in the other hand, and Inej couldn’t be sure if he’d broken fingers or not.

“Why do you come back here?” Kaz shouted when he whirled back at her, his teeth bared in fury. Inej clenched her fists.

“We have a deal,” she said, coldly. It was the language Dirtyhands understood.

Kaz scoffed as he tried to move his injured fingers.

“To what end?” he spat, and ground his teeth in pain. “How long will it take you to realize there is nothing here for you to save?”

“If you weren’t interested in being saved, you wouldn’t have struck the deal in the first place,” Inej shot back. If he was trying to push her away to save face, she wasn’t going quietly.

“I have nothing to offer you,” Kaz gritted. “I can’t even--” but he couldn’t look at her.

Inej held out her hands toward him, offering to take his injured fingers in hers. He hesitated, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

“All I have ever asked of you was your honesty and your time,” Inej said. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to try.”

And slowly Kaz turned, shuffling his weight off his bad leg, and put his wounded hand in hers, the leather dusted in plaster. She slowly started to pull back the leather to inspect the damage, and Kaz sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“I’m very drunk,” he complained.

“I know you are.”

“This hurts.”

“Don’t punch walls next time.”

His knuckles were already swollen and bruised, but nothing looked broken. Nothing ice and a good bandage couldn’t fix.

“Mati en sheva yelu,” he slurred in Suli. This action will have no echo. And the sincere, painful look he was giving her when she looked up at him in surprise made her want to kiss him all over again. “You know—you say it,” he tried to wave off her adoration.

“I do. I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I’m always listening, Inej. Inej.” He sighed hard, looking longing at her lips. “It’s going to hurt so much worse than this when this is over.”

Inej looked up at him in surprise.

“Why would you say that?” she frowned.

“You wanted honesty.” Kaz swayed a little on his feet. “I’m giving you honesty. Nothing survives the Barrel. Not even me. Not even you. And now look at me--” He squared his wide shoulders, taking a shuffling step closer, close enough that she could feel his body warmth, smell the tang of wine on his breath. She found herself staring up at the painful depths of his dark eyes, the ache he let her see. “No armor now,” he said, his voice low.

For a moment, Inej’s knees felt weak beneath him, but it was that smell of the red wine that brought her back.

“You’re drunk,” she reminded him. He gave a petulant frown, and maybe that was the reason she found the courage to say the rest. “And if you’re trying to blame me for some unforeseen pain that may or may not even happen, in some misguided attempt to protect yourself from actually feeling something, well, then you’re far crueler than I took you for. And I will not tolerate your cruelty, Kaz Brekker.”

And so she knew this strategy Kaz Brekker’s demons employed. And she stared him down on the bathroom floor, daring him to go on.

“How so?” she said again.

KAZ

Jordie would have been twenty-five. Jordie never got to dream, to build a name for himself, to live comfortably. Jordie never got to have a girl, to know what it was like to be adored, to wake up next to the same face you dreamt of.

Because of the firepox.

Why did I live? Why did I live?

Kaz was pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jordie was there, bloated, covered in sores, his vacant eyes glassy.

“How so?”

“The ship was your ticket out,” he rasped, finally, looking up at her. “I gave you the ship. I gave you your family. You were supposed to get far away from here before this happened again. You were supposed to leave.”

“I don’t believe you.” Inej shook her head.

“What do you want from me?” his voice strained, savagely. “Is it not enough to know that I love you and want you to live? You have to keep coming around here, endangering yourself and my crew--”

“Your crew?” Inej raised an angry, skeptical eyebrow.

“Look at me.” Somewhere under the fog of paranoia and haunted memory, Kaz knew he was nearing hysterics. “You are my weakness, a liability--”

But at that, Inej shot to her feet, and the very real threat of actually losing her was enough to shut even Dirtyhands up. She stared down at him, a glare laced with ice and pain and empathy all at once.

“I know you are hurting,” she said, “and I know this isn’t the reason. I know how impossible it can feel to find the source when the pain is all-encompassing. But that gives you no right speak to me this way. We have fought too long and come too far for this.”

The wash of guilt that followed crushed his chest, and Kaz sunk into the heels of his palms once again. She asked only for honesty, came a reminder from somewhere in his frenetic thoughts. Find the source, find the source. She was turning to leave the bathroom, and the dread of not having her voice, pulling him out of the dark, was far worse than any other horror his imagination could conjure up.

“Inej,” he said in a harsh scratch. His throat felt thick. She turned at the broken bathroom door, leaning her head against the frame. Waiting. Expecting.

He had to try.

“I can’t,” he started, and there it was. The source. His mind been twisting it all around in the fog, fumbling with it like a lock in the dark, when it was simple, really. “I can’t do this again,” he said at last, his voice breaking.

“Do what again,” said Inej, though she seemed to understand. She was going to make him say it.

He swallowed hard, his throat constricting.

“I can’t,” he pushed again, “I can’t lose everything to this again. I can’t do it.”

“You are not going to lose everything, Kaz,” Inej said, firmly, and she began to cross the tile back to him again.

“I can’t lose you to this.” He dared to look at her as she sat next to him, their backs against the wall. “Any of you. Jesper. Wylan. I can’t. I have so much more to lose this time.”

“You are not going to lose us.” Inej remained adamant, but Kaz gave a bitter, crooked smile even as he felt hot tears like pinpricks in his eyes. Jordie had made similar promises once. Jordie would have liked Inej.

“You can’t promise that.” His rasp was becoming a whisper. “You can’t promise any of that.”

And to her credit, Inej didn’t try to fight. It was firepox. It wasn’t a rival gang. There was no strategy. There was only the gamble. Outlast. Outlive. That’s all you could do.

Inej set her hand on his knee. He knew she would have liked to have done more, but he was grateful she didn’t try. This was enough.

“Then for tonight,” she said, “we’ll be scared. And we’ll be sad. And then tomorrow, we’ll pick up the pistols and the knives again. We’ll fight again another day.”

We. He didn’t deserve to be a We, but he feared the loss far more. And with a deep breath to summon his courage, he put his hand over hers. He had to wait a moment to allow the shudder to pass through him, but then he gave her fingers a squeeze in agreement. When he looked over at her, her big, brown eyes were glassy with tears.

“Kaz,” she said, softly, “tell me about Jordie.”

Kaz rested his head against the bathroom wall. There was so much to say about Jordie. He could have told her about the games he made up or the jokes he liked to tell or the useless toys he bought Kaz, just to see his little brother grin. He could have told her about his dangerous optimism or his blind ambition or his stupid hubris. He wanted to tell her how riding on Jordie’s shoulders had made him feel like an invincible giant, and what good were gods or Saints or Grisha if they couldn’t even protect a boy as deserving of life as Jordie?

Instead, Kaz Rietveld broke down and wept.

INEJ

It was a long night, the first of many long nights. Inej wasn’t sure when Kaz finally fell asleep, but she awoke first and shuffled out of the attic in Kaz’s nightshirt, down to the empty kitchen of The Slat to percolate a kettle of strong black coffee. When she brought up cups, she found him sitting on the edge of the bed, bleary-eyed and disheveled. He couldn’t have slept more than two or three hours.

She handed him a cup of coffee without a word and noticed he avoided touching her fingers when he took the mug. She understood all too well how the tide of war against the demons of memory could shift dramatically with so little warning, and she was ready to tell him so when he let out a small, defeated sigh and leaned to rest his head against her stomach.

Had anyone ever seen the Bastard of the Barrel so broken? No one would ever know, the Wraith determined. She ran her fingers through the thick, soft hair at the top of his head, avoiding his scalp, and held him there against her. He gave no protest.

“I thought I had defeated this,” he said, after a long silence.

“The past can be tricky like that,” Inej replied. The dawn was golden over the tile rooftops of Ketterdam. “It has teeth, and sometimes it demands attention.”

“Suli proverb?”

“No.” Inej sighed. “Just the story of my life.”

Kaz was silent a moment as they both sat with their demons at the door. He lifted a hand like he wanted to hold her closer, but ended up tugging absentmindedly on the rolled-up sleeve of her nightshirt instead.

“You were ready.” The self-loathing in Kaz’s voice was palpable and twisted in Inej’s gut. “Yesterday, you wanted me to--”

“Kaz.” Inej stopped him and gave the back of his head a little tug so he’d look up at her. “Are you forgetting the terms of our deal? I want you. Mind, body, and soul. Those were your exact words. This,” she brushed back his sleep-disheveled hair with tender fingers and he closed his eyes, “this is all part of the deal. Your past, your memories, your fears – they are all a part of the man I love. I wouldn’t have you without them.”

Kaz was still beneath her fingers in his hair, but after a moment, his chest rose and fell with a sigh and he gave a little nod.

With the streets outside silent and abandoned, they spent the rest of the day in bed, sometimes sleeping, sometimes talking, always a safe distance from each other. When night fell, however, Inej woke up briefly to find Kaz’s bare hand fitted to her the slope of her waist as he slept, curled on his side. She smiled to herself in the dark.

KAZ

The plague bells continued to toll every day, a regular reminder of the reaper that spread like wildfire through the streets. The first three days were near-constant torment. Inej did her best to try to distract him with card games and books. She even got desperate and showed him knife tricks that made even him feel uneasy that she was going to hurt herself.

“Seriously, that’s enough,” he finally told her at one point. “I can’t go out and bring back a Tailor for you if you lose a finger today.”

“I am not going to lose a finger.” But she stopped anyway. He was grateful. Every moment of the day, his heart was pounding and his mind was racing while he watched for telltale signs. She’d grow tired first, then lose her appetite when the fever began to rise, and then would come the sores that would erupt all across her perfect body. It would rot her beautiful face. Sometimes, lying in bed, eyes closed, was all he could manage to do to keep himself from losing it completely.

But as the end of the first week drew near, they were both still healthy, and Kaz found he could go an hour without imagining her death. Each day grew a little more normal, and each day brought a little more freedom. He could show her card tricks and live entirely in the moment her face lit up in delighted wonder, no fear of the future. Each night, Inej would flit across the rooftops of Ketterdam to the Van Eck mansion, returning to The Slat with news that Jesper and Wylan were well and bored and sent their regards, and Kaz’s unease settled a bit more. By the second week, he could lie across from Inej at night, and his mind would fill with tender memories instead of horrors. Instead of her dying face, he thought of the sun shimmering on her golden brown skin, the harbor winds in her black hair, the rose petal-softness of her lips against his cheek.

How she convinced him to let her paddle him through the canals of Ketterdam, he’ll never know. Maybe it was partially his own fault. He was growing desperate to make progress, to hold her how he wanted to hold her, and it was becoming apparent to him that he had to confront what the waters brought up in him.

She’d stashed away her own money and bought herself a skiff, the first boat she’d purchased on her own, and her eyes dazzled when she spoke of it, and Kaz knew he wanted to see her captain it. He’d walked the decks of The Wraith with her, his heart soaring with pride as he watched her in her element. Kaz loved to see Inej happy. He loved nothing more.

But all of that couldn’t prevent him from sitting in the exact center of the skiff with his arms crossed in defense – against what? – and his body so rigid, the first harsh jostle of the skiff could snap him in two.

“You hate this,” Inej observed. She’d stopped rowing and came to sit next to him, facing the opposite direction. The canal waters were still as the skiff drifted forward. They were in a quiet part of town where the narrow streets were largely ignored. A shopkeeper swept the cobblestones in front of their shop; an old man smoked a pipe on the steps of a pub.

“I never said that,” but Kaz didn’t look at her.

“You didn’t have to.” Inej raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take us home.”

“No--”

“I’m glad you tried. That means a lot--”

“Inej.” He touched her wrist, his hands bare, and looked up at her face as she was about to move back to steer the boat. Her skin shone in the sunlight as the breeze swept strands of her hair across her face. Her eyes in the sunshine were like caramels. Kaz didn’t want to go back. That was the last thing he wanted.

“I need new memories of the water,” he rasped. “That’s all.”

“Better memories,” Inej agreed, and she turned her hand, fitting her fingers through his. He closed his eyes while he took in the warmth of her palm against his, alive and perfect.

And then it happened. His eyes still closed, he felt the soft brush of her lips against his cheek. His heart stuttered and warmed. It hadn’t felt revolting at all. It had surprised him, and he’d liked it. He’d actually liked it. He opened his eyes to her sweet smile, and he wanted more.

This was what he would always consider their first real kiss. He turned his body and wrapped one hand at her waist, holding her close. She didn’t flinch, didn’t shrink back. No, she leaned in. She wanted. He tilted his head to meet the slant of her lips and lost himself in her sweetness, with the sun bright overhead and the lazy lapping of canal water against the sides of the skiff.

INEJ

“They’re lifting some quarantine measures,” Kaz told her over coffee one morning. Inej looked up at him, eager, as he scanned the headlines of the Ketterdam Ledger. The days had become routine in the microcosm of their world, and she desperately needed to tend to The Wraith.

“The harbors?” she asked.

“They’re not opening the harbors yet,” Kaz shook his head, then shot a glance at her, catching her frustration. “Not that that should stop us,” he said, folding up the paper.

A smile began to creep along Inej’s lips.

“Are you sure?” she questioned. In the first days of the quarantine, Kaz didn’t even want to leave the room. He’d laid rest to many demons since then, but his exhaustion was still fresh in her mind.

But the smile he gave back to her was a Dirtyhands smirk, and her stomach fluttered pleasantly.

“Figure out the quarantine guard shift change at the harbor,” he told her. “We’ll go tonight.”

The Wraith threw back the last of her coffee and made a mad dash for the rooftops, like a bat out of hell.

That night, they dressed the part. It was a little silly, Inej realized, strapping on her knives over her leggings, when this wasn’t anything like a real job. But a forbidden midnight dash into the cordoned harbor was far more entertaining than the same old card games, and Inej was mad for some excitement. As she watched Kaz suit up out of the corner of her eye, she suspected he felt much the same way. They were both ready for some semblance of normality.

They tied makeshift masks over their faces before slipping into the abandoned shadows of Ketterdam’s alleys. Kaz’s limp was more pronounced after weeks of being holed up in The Slat, and while Inej didn’t point it out, she still kept to the darkness so he didn’t have to rush. After a few blocks, his muscles loosened, and their pace quickened, and when they neared the harbor, Inej stopped them, her back against the brick wall of a building, and held out a hand for Kaz’s pocket watch. The chain clinked as he handed it to her, and she checked the time.

She pulled the mask down to her neck as she handed the watch back.

“We’re early,” she whispered up at him. “Few minutes still.”

Kaz nodded beneath his mask as he pocketed the watch. Suddenly, Inej’s heart thudded as she looked him over. It had been weeks since he’d worn one of his tailored black suits, and the thrill of seeing him looking like himselfagain overtook her.

When her eyes traveled up to his face, she saw that he’d noticed her staring, and he lifted his dark eyebrows.

“See something you like?” he asked, his rasping voice muffled behind mask. Inej pressed back a smirk.

“Cheeky bastard,” she shot back.

“You’re the one who likes cheeky bastards,” said Kaz, and took two shuffling steps closer, leaning on his crow’s head cane, so close their bodies were nearly touching.

“Just this one,” Inej replied, and gave a little tug on his mask to reveal his crooked half smile.

Inej drew in a breath as Kaz took one more step and she felt the brace of his body against her. She’d never say it, but she had ached for him all these weeks – so close to her, and yet so out of reach. To her delight, he leaned his cane against the wall and wrapped both gloved hands around her waist. She held on to his shoulders as he pressed against her, taking her lips, softly at first, and then with insistence.

Thank the Saints, Inej thought, not for the first time, and let herself melt into him.

She ran her hands up his shoulders and around his neck, crossing her wrists behind his head, and let him press her back against the wall. It was as if he was making up for lost time, and his touch drove her mad, in the best way possible. He parted her lips with his tongue, and a soft moan escaped her throat as his fingers twisted in the fabric of her vest.

“Gods, I’ve missed this,” Kaz rasped when they broke apart finally, lungs aching. His chest was heaving, breathless, as Inej dragged her fingers under the lapels of his jacket, over the hard muscle beneath, pulling him closer.

And she gasped as he dipped his head and pressed his lips to the soft bit of skin just below her ear, and she was ready to forget the world entirely when his teeth grazed her neck, his hands roaming her hips, except at the last minute, she remembered the time. While he cupped her ass, she slipped her fingers into his waistcoat pocket.

“Now,” she said, pulling back, suddenly. “We have to go now.”

“Did you just pick my pocket?” Kaz realized, a little dazed, as Inej replaced his pocket watch. But she was already soundlessly running for the docks.

The Wraith waited at Fifth Harbor, looking no worse for wear, as they scaled its sides in the dark and leapt aboard. Inej walked its decks in the moonlight, shining full beyond the tall masts. She knew that weeks in the water with no maintenance, the list of chores that needed to be taken care of had grown long. For one thing, the decks were covered in bird shit. There were sails that needed mending, hulls that needed shucked of their barnacles, cannons that needed cleaning. She at least needed to take stock of the work ahead, so she could quickly divvy up the load among her crew when the quarantine was lifted.

She could sense Kaz’s eyes on her, almost hungry since their exchange in the alley. And now that they had evaded the quarantine guards, she found she liked it. She gave him a provocative glance the next time she noticed his predatory gaze.

“You picked my pocket,” he repeated, slitting his eyes. His dark eyes in the silver moonlight made her heart skip. She turned to face him at the base of the mizzenmast.

“And whatever will you do about it, Brekker,” she challenged.

He tapped his cane against the wood of the deck three times.

“I have some ideas,” he rasped, a quirk of a smile on his lips, and Saints she wanted him to press up against her again.

It was as if he read her mind. He let his cane drop with a clatter as he took her in his arms, pressing her back against the wood of the mizzenmast, and she lifted onto her toes to hungrily take his lips with hers.

He wasn’t slow and methodical now. He was like a drowning man gasping his first breath of air. He was kissing her as much as he could, her lips, her cheeks, her throat, his hands digging into the back of her shirt, nearly lifting her off her toes. She brought her hands to either side of his face to hold him still, to kiss him deeper, to breathe in his scent like she hadn’t in weeks. Her Kaz. He wasn’t gone. He could fight his way out of any hole, no matter how black. And how she loved him for it.

One of his hands slid from her back, raking up her rib cage to cup her breast, and she gasped into his mouth as he kneaded it with his long fingers. There was warmth pooling between her legs, desire like a steady tide rising in her veins. She pressed her hips against his and found he was already hard. Her cheeks warmed. More, she needed more.

“I want you,” she gasped. She’d let go of his face, running her hands over his shoulders, as he left a train of kisses down her neck.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he groaned. And it was all the permission she needed: she started pulling at the buttons of his waistcoat, his white shirt, tearing some, pushing her fingers through to his hot skin and muscles underneath.

He wasn’t running. He tore at her shirt, his lithe fingers dancing through buttonholes as her blouse fell open to him, and he bent his head, pulling at the center of her back, to bring his mouth to her cleavage.

“Take those damn gloves off,” she demanded, and, as he did, she threw off her shirt and the useless mask from her neck and undid the bindings that held in her breasts. Kaz’s shirt was still hanging open, his hair he’d finally worked hard to put in place now falling in his eyes, as he stepped back to her, running his bare hands up her back, over her neck, to caress her breast.

She nipped at his earlobe, raking her hands down his torso, to that fine line of hair at his beltline. And as he kissed her again and again, she undid the black leather belt. He drew back with in a sharp breath as she pushed past his wiry curls and wrapped her fingers around his hard length.

“Is this what you want?” he rasped, as she began to stroke him. He released a low breath and leaned a little harder against the mast at her back.

“I want everything,” she told him in a husky voice, and he looked at her with those half-starved black eyes, lips slightly parted, before slipping his own careful fingers into her leggings.

Her head fell back against the mast and she tightened her grip on his cock as she felt his clever lockpick fingers slid over her clit. Her breasts heaved with a deep sigh, and Kaz let out a stuttering breath when she did, his eyelids fluttering.

“Careful,” he groaned with a gasp. “I don’t know if I can – shit, Inej, really, you could end this too soon.”

“I want you to feel what you make me feel,” she breathed, slowing her strokes.

“But I don’t want this to end,” Kaz gritted out, and looped his spare hand around her wrist, pulling her hand back. And just as she was about to protest, he slid both hands beneath her leggings at her waist. He wanted her bare again, she realized, and she was desperate for release.

She helped him slid her leggings to the deck, and before she could wonder what he was going to do next, he knelt before her, one hand on either thigh. With his careful eyes watching her always, he took one of her legs over his shoulder, bringing his soft lips to kiss her folds.

His breath was hot against her, and Inej raised her arms over her head to grab the mast behind her to keep her knees from crumbling under her.

“Where did you learn this?” she gasped, her heart racing. She shivered as he ran a hand over her core and her navel, stroking her tense muscles.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Kaz mumbled against her cunt, and the harsh rasp of his voice sent a wave of pleasure through her.

“I have to know--” Inej could hardly finish her sentence as he stroked his tongue slowly up the strip of her pussy. She would know, but it certainly didn’t matter now. Her legs were giving out under her, and he wrapped his strong arms under her thighs as she held onto the mast, his hair, anything to ground her.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, and he certainly seemed to have no intention to. He used one thumb to caress her clit as he sucked and stroked her folds, and her whole body was alight at his touch. The tension was building low in her abdomen, and she couldn’t hardly believe this was happening right here on her own ship. She gazed down at her Kaz, his perceptive eyes trained on her, the eyes that saw her and saved her and endlessly loved her, and she brushed his hair back as she felt the wave of orgasm nearing.

The trapped girl she’d been in the Menagerie could never have dreamed this could be her life. The trapped girl in the Menagerie might have slept easier knowing this day was coming.

“Kaz,” she breathed out his name in a soft moan as she came, wave after wave of sensation rolling through her core. “Thank you,” she was whispering, again and again. “Thank you.”

She was catching her breath as he straightened himself to his feet, kissing her softly while she came down from her high. His belt buckle was still undone, and she ran her fingers around the bare skin at his waist.

“How did you learn how to do that?” she asked him as she looked up at him, dreamily. He just shook his head with that sneaking, crooked smile. Well, fine. She could get him to talk.

She looped her hands through his belt and turned him so that his back now pressed against the mast, and then dropped to her knees.

“Fuck,” she heard Kaz whisper, and she quickly undid his trousers, dropping them to his ankles.

She’d seen him naked many times before, but this was the first time she’d decided to do something about it. His length stiffened just from her proximity, and when she glanced up at him, he looked like he was hardly daring to breathe.

She slowly brought the tip to her lips. Kaz drew in a breath.

“Tell me where you learned how to do that thing with your mouth,” she whispered with a smirk.

“Oh, that’s how this is going to be?” Kaz looked confident, but she saw how he already gripped the mast behind him. She dragged her tongue up his length, and he cursed again.

“You should tell me.”

“Holy fuck, Inej.”

This was going to be fun. Inej wrapped her lips around him, and he let out a low sound she’d never heard from him before. She worked her mouth up and down his length, relishing the pleasure she brought him, how she could turn this dangerous man into a gasping mess.

His thighs were already tensing as he struggled to hold himself upright. He’d been right; this wasn’t going to last long. He’d leaned his head back against the mast, chest heaving, and once he looked like he was going to cry out something, but instead he came with a grunt and a shudder, his fingers curling in her hair. She swallowed the heat that filled her throat, watching him quake and moan as she did, and only then did she release him.

“Nina told me.” Kaz was gasping, eyelashes fluttering as Inej stood up. “I wrote Nina for advice, and she told me about the thing I could do with my mouth. Holy shit, Inej.”

“You wrote Nina?” Inej wasn’t sure if she should be horrified or laugh. “I wrote Nina.”

Kaz opened his eyes at last, looking unconcerned.

“Well, I wasn’t about to ask Jesper for advice. And Wylan’s never even seen a vagina.”

“We will never hear the end of this.”

“She’ll raise us from the dead just to talk about it again.”

Inej thought for a moment before concluding: “Worth it.”

And because they were bored of The Slat, they curled up for the night in Inej’s captain’s quarters, the full moon filling the porthole window and lighting up the night. Sometime in the night, Inej awoke, caught a glimpse of the sea from the window, and poked Kaz in the side until he woke up.

KAZ

“What is it?” he whispered.

“The sea,” she told him.

He wanted to whine. He rarely slept soundly, and had she really just woke him up to look at the damn sea?

Of course she had.

She brought him above deck and shimmied down the ropes to The Wraith’s rowboat, gesturing for him to follow. Kaz felt like he was moving through a dream, but even in dreams, he would follow his girl to the end of the world.

She took the oars of the boat and told him to lie down in the center of the little craft. Kaz gave a relinquished sigh and did as he was told, letting her row them out into the dark harbor, slipping past guards’ watch lanterns, and out into the still waters of the open sea.

He’d long past given up on worrying about Inej’s decisions. If there was a reason she wanted them out in open waters in the middle of the night, it had to be a good one. He closed his eyes and listened to the lapping of the water, willing back old memories and thinking of Inej. His sea captain. He wouldn’t fall to the waters as long as she had him.

Eventually, she stopped rowing, dropped an anchor, and came to lie beside him in the center of the boat.

“It seems like I’m supposed to understand what’s happening,” Kaz said, their shoulders next to each other.

“I wanted you to have a new memory,” Inej said. “Just be still and look around.”

And Kaz raised himself up onto his elbows to look at the sea around him. It was at that moment he understood her love of the sea.

The black sky wrapped around them as far as the eye could reach, glittering with countless stars from horizon to horizon. The surface of the water stretched out all around, a perfect mirror of the sparkling lights in the heavens. Kaz drew in a breath in wonder, suddenly without words. If there was ever magic in the world, this was it.

He looked down at Inej, her hands under her head, as she gazed up at the sky, the picture of contentment.

“Maybe now you’ll think of this, too, when you remember the firepox,” she said, as she gazed softly up at him.

He would. Oh, he would.

He bent over, cupping her cheek, and kissed her fully. His girl. His Inej. His magic. His whole heart. She turned to him on her side, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her breasts against his chest, unbound beneath her thin shirt. Desire coursed through him as he felt the puckered drag of her nipples across his body. His fingers slid through her loose hair, deepening the kiss, and blood rushed to his cock for the second time that night. What surprised him more was her hand dipping down, pressing against it through his trousers, as if she could coax it out.

“Again?” he wondered aloud, and kicked himself for it immediately. But Inej smiled against his lips and touched her nose to his.

“Better memories,” she whispered.

She slipped off her leggings while giving him a pointed glance at his tented trousers. It took a moment to understand her meaning. She wanted him to take them off.

He slid out of his trousers and then the rest of his clothes as Inej did the same, the cool night air brushing against her nipples and hardening them. He wanted to lose himself in them again, kiss them and taste them and –

Just as he was imagining the many things he was about to do to her breasts, Inej pushed him down again onto his back at the center of the rowboat. Slowly, she crawled on top of him, and his cock throbbed, begging, pleading.

This had to be a dream. Surely this was a dream. He only ever had dreams this good.

But the sigh she let out when their bodies connected was very real. And her tight heat sliding over his cock had never felt so good in his sleep. She guided herself down slowly, her hands on his torso, and Kaz released a shaky moan.

He’d convinced himself for years that this was impossible. The angry monster he’d been had locked every fantasy of this away. The broken boy he’d been was sure he’d never deserve this.

Here he was anyway.

Inej rocked over his length above him, taking her time, leaving slow, languid kisses on his mouth. He fitted his hand to the curve of her waist, her long hair brushing over his fingers. The desperation he’d felt on the decks of the ship had passed, and now he could float among the stars, his mind blank, giving his body wholly to the girl who loved him.

Every grim eventuality Kaz had conjured in his mind about the future seemed to dissipate there beneath the stars. He could be wrong. They would have time. They could live like this for years. There was nothing in their way. He had time. He had time.

When Inej quickened her pace, she was as slippery and wet as a minnow, and soon Kaz couldn't help writhing beneath her, arching, exulting, her name on his lips, his heart in her hands. He loved her; he’d love her til the end of time, and he said so, and he was nothing if not true to his word. And when he crumbled beneath her, he was unaware of anything but her her her, and when the wave subsided, there were stars all around her.

She kissed him again and again before lying beside him and mussing up his disheveled hair, grinning up at him with eyes that glittered in starlight.

“That was unexpected,” he panted, and looked over at her. “You’re not worried about – you know--” He gestured at her womb, fumbling for words.

“Nina told me how to prevent it, don’t worry.” Inej was breathing hard, too.

“We have got to stop talking about Nina when we’re naked. It’s getting weird.”

“Agreed.”

And though they knew they’d have to return to the ship before first light, Kaz tucked her close to his body anyway, tracing her curves with his fingertips, watching the stars above them. As he did, he thought of the future once more, only this time, he didn’t see death.

He saw an expanse as limitless as the infinite, starry horizon, as open to him as the sea.

#six of crows #soc #crooked kingdom #kanej #kanej fanfic #smut #kanej smut #fanfic #fanfiction #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz x inej #kaz brekker x inej ghafa

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missmonsters2 · 5 years

Text

The Color of You || Part II

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: It was another mission Natasha was assigned to. Nothing she hasn’t done before. Same mission, different people. Sent undercover to investigate William Cain, suspect to funding terrorism and smuggling weaponry. Under the disguise of Natanya Rovinski, Natasha is ready for another routine mission. Until she met you, William’s fiancé.

Warnings: There are dark elements to this series. Also, smut later on.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Action

NOTE: I’ve been aggressively reading on color therapy & the psychology of color LOL You’re more than welcome to comment/reply to this post if you would like to be added to a tag list.

PART I

PART II of X

Count: 3715

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Natasha was in the middle of her living room, looking over William’s profile again.

She spread out the photos provided to her before leaning back with her fingers holding her chin.

Natasha was still working on her plan.

Maria had helped her set up dedicated funds to her mission to use as his investor, but she needed more than that.

She needed more than just being a sponsor to him.

She needed to get into his inner circle.

Idly tapping her chin, Natasha’s thoughts wandered to you from the other night. The sight of you tucking your hair behind your ear and demure smile wouldn’t leave her mind.

How did someone like you end up with someone like William?

The sound of her phone vibrating brought her out of her thoughts.

Clint: How’s it going over there?

It was Clint texting her to check in on her. Again.

Nat: It’s fine. Stop texting me unless you’re dying.

Clint: ...Rude...

Natasha rolled her eyes with a light smile before looking at the clock. Sighing, she stood up to get prepared for tonight’s events.

William was hosting another event, but this time as part of his political campaign. He was hosting it in his home, so it was a big opportunity for Natasha to look around.

Her goal of the night was still to obviously information gather but to also take a look around in his home, and secure a personal invite over where there would be more one-on-one time.

It would also give her an opportunity to get to know you better as well. That night when she caught your eye from across the room, it was like an electrical bolt hitting her that you were more than just a trophy wife to William.

And when Natasha got that feeling, she was certainly always right.

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“You know, this wouldn’t be so bad if you just imagine that you’re on fire and the building is collapsing.”

Natasha snorted as David took a sip from his drink.

“Tell us how you really feel,” she replied with a smirk.

Though she couldn’t blame him. God, she was bored out of her mind. The amount of old white men she had spoken to already this evening was already numbing her mind.

Natasha had arrived at an appropriate time, neither early nor too late. William had approached her within minutes of her arriving, driving her into a conversation about his campaign, and her thoughts. She had merely nodded her head at the time about his interesting policies, occasionally saying something that would suggest to him that she agreed or shared the same ideology.

When more guests started to pour in, William regarded her with his own smile, asking if she would be free sometime in the next couple of days to have lunch with him.

It was secured and almost entirely too easy.

Just as the right amount of guests came to keep William busy, she disappeared off to snoop around.

She checked the place from head to toe, every nook and cranny.

But she didn’t find anything suspicious, not even a book out of place. Everything was where it was meant to be.

And that was off to Natasha. It was like everything was staged to show what William wanted people to see, but Natasha saw that whatever William was hiding, she wouldn’t find it here.

“So,” David said, breaking Natasha out of her thoughts. “What did you think of William’s fiancé?”

“Have you met her?” Natasha asked in return, watching as David nodded once.

“Yes, I kind of want to ask her to blink twice if she’s being held against her will because there’s no way William managed to woo a girl like that.”

Natasha chuckled throatily, trying to contain the full burst of laughter that truly wanted to come out. She was coming to appreciate her time spent with David, a man who clearly shared many similar thoughts to her and had no problem saying them out loud.

“This party is as riveting as watching paint dry, and I think I’ve stayed my obligatory time, I’m going to head out? Are you staying?” David asked as he put his drink down against the bar, dusting his hands off.

“Just a little longer,” Natasha answered. It didn’t feel like she had gotten enough intel on anything other than whatever William was hiding was most likely off base. Not to even mention she hadn’t seen you tonight either.

“Alright,” David said, taking a step forward before turning to her. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, come to my estate and have lunch with me.”

Natasha raised her brow at David but nodded, bidding him goodbye as he left. For another 45 minutes, she made an effort to talk to more people at the party, easily being able to identify who would be sponsoring and donating to William’s campaign. There were a couple of men and women she made a mental note to look into more as they were clearly radicals.

After Natasha felt like she had done enough for the night, she made a move to leave. As she passed the balcony though, she caught a similar silhouette. She opened the door quietly, pushing through the thick red curtain to find you standing out there alone against the railing. You were wearing another long-sleeved dress that revealed nothing but your curves.

Natasha closed the door softly, content that it shut out the unintelligible noises from inside.

“Are you not enjoying the party?”

You whipped around, body tensed with a sharp turn of your head at Natasha’s presence.

“I--”

You coughed lightly, a blush dusting your cheeks as you admitted slowly, “I don’t fit in well with this type of crowd.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought.

From what Natasha knew, you were from an affluential family, although you did just make it out of bankruptcy.

This was supposed to be your crowd.

“That’s alright. You’re all the better for not fitting in.” Natasha walked up to the ledge next to you, resting her elbow up before propping her chin on it. There was a slight breeze that brushed against Natasha’s fingers.

She looked over subtly to you, her eyes drawing down to your neatly trimmed nails, spotting a small line of paint just on the side of your ring finger. Natasha ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth at the sight.

You had your head tilted downwards and slightly to the side, it gave a great view of your slender neck and defined collarbone as you had a soft smile to what Natasha had said.

It was the small things like this that caused the confusion in Natasha.

You had chosen a man like William Cain to be your husband, and for some reason, Natasha couldn’t ignore that.

But Natasha could feel that a direct approach with you would cause you to close yourself off. She needed to be careful.

“And what about you, Miss Rovinski? Are you someone who fits in?” You asked quietly in return.

It was quiet for a moment, and Natasha licked her bottom lip slowly.

“I guess you can say I fit in anywhere but belong nowhere,” Natasha admitted quietly, and when she went to see your expression, it was as if you were not surprised by the answer.

Perhaps seeing that quality in Natasha.

“Do you want to know something interesting?” Natasha asked, and it seemed the question surprised you, but you nodded, albeit a little hesitantly.

“A few days ago I went to a local café in the morning, and I had overheard a conversation between two men who couldn’t understand how society, women, in particular, were so invested in art and fashion. There was too much emphasis on art, and it was overrated.”

Natasha caught your nervousness at the statement and quirked her lips.

“I didn’t agree with the sentiment as they commented on how the café looked bare and too plain--a problem only art could solve, isn’t that right?”

You hadn’t quite reacted to Natasha’s story, unsure where she was really going with this.

“I went to an artist’s gallery opening a couple months ago, and it featured a painting of a local village she had experienced in her travels. It was filled with such vibrant colors, sharp and soft. No words had accompanied the painting, yet people crowded around it, overwhelmed with emotion. Some people cried, some laughed loudly, and some were echoed by the image--are you understanding me?”

You nodded slowly.

“So, I’ve decided that sometimes art is the only thing that can draw out what people may truly be feeling, leaves a mark that words cannot reach,” Natasha said as she looked up at the starry sky.

Natasha turned back and gave you a quiet, warm smile. “That’s why I envy artists sometimes for being able to reach people in a different light.”

The hesitance and stiffness in you melted away with Natasha’s words, a rare genuine smile gracing your lips for her.

Natasha pulled back her arms, looking towards the door.

This was enough for tonight.

Natasha was leaving before your voice stopped her.

“Thank you...your words have reached me...and they make me incredibly happy.”

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Natasha stood in front of two large mahogany doors before they opened to reveal Davidl standing there.

“Natanya, you made it! Did you find it okay?” He greeted her, pulling her into a slight hug and kisses on either side of her cheeks.

“Yes, my driver seemed to know exactly where he was going.” It seemed like all luxurious private drivers knew where the big players were.

“Come on in, I’ve got someone preparing us tea and lunch. Are you allergic to anything or any preferences?” David asked as he ushered her in. It was quite a walk to his patio outside. A full garden with a pond and fountain that was well maintained was the view.

“No, anything will be fine,” Natasha said as she took her seat, placing her small purse onto the table.

David sat across from her, crossing his legs so that his ankle rested against his thigh, and temple resting against his knuckles.

“Someone else will be coming too,” David said with a casual smile. “My boyfriend.”

Natasha raised her brow. That had explained some things.

“Why tell me that? What if I was extremely homophobic?” Natasha asked, only to see what David would say.

David let out a genuine laughter.

“Please,” he said after his laugh. “We flock together like birds. I’ve seen you eyeing various women throughout the parties--and men, although it looked like you were eyeing them begrudgingly.”

Natasha wasn’t sure if David had a better eye than she thought or if his gaydar was just that good, either way, she did feel a little exposed.

“What’s your boyfriend like?” Natasha asked, changing the topic from her.

David smiled softly, “Liam’s a photographer. He doesn’t come from money which I like. He’ll call me out on my shit if he thinks I’m being a dickhead. You should see him when I try to do extravagant things.”

David was chuckling by the end of it, the softness bringing a small smile to Natasha’s lips.

“Do your parents know?” Natasha asked.

“Yep,” David sighs. “They think it’s just a phase, but Liam is the one for me, I’m pretty sure. Since I’m the only child, my parents haven’t cut me off yet because they want me to take over the business. Once they see how serious I am, I have no idea how they’ll react. I’m fully prepared to be cut off, but Liam’s been teaching me about putting money away in case that happens.”

Natasha couldn’t help but smile at how endearing this all sounded, a rich man with learning how to save and budget from his financially average boyfriend.

The rest of the afternoon, they had made small idle chat until Liam arrived. He was a pretty athletically fit man, taller than David and nearly hovering over him. He had a boyish soft charm, yet intensity to him that made Natasha see why David was so enamored.

“I saw William today leaving from my photoshoot,” Liam commented as he finished up his meal.

“Oh?” David commented, disinterestedly.

“Yeah,” Liam continued. “He was standing outside a café with someone I haven’t recognized from any of the parties or his campaign. He seemed pretty angry with whoever he was talking to since he was shouting and flailing his arms.”

That piqued Natasha’s attention.

“Oh, wow,” Natasha commented. “What café was it?”

“The one on 18th. There’s a whole bunch of cafés down that street.”

Natasha hummed, storing that information for later.

The rest of the lunch went smooth, and eventually, David took them inside to his living area.

Natasha looked at the photos around the room, a lot of it being childhood photos of David. She was intrigued to see so many pictures of him and another boy. It wasn’t until she found a high school photo of David and the man next to him a younger version of William.

“Wow, you guys really were family friends,” Natasha commented as she took the photo from the ledge to look at it closer.

David hummed.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “We were actually pretty close back in high school and a little through university.”

“What changed?” Natasha asked because it was clear now that David hated the other man.

David leaned his head on his fist against the chair as Liam sat next to him. “He was always arrogant, don’t get me wrong. But you could tell he cared about things, I guess. I think it all started to change after his dad died midway the first year of university.”

“Oh, it was a car accident, right?” Natasha inquired. That was what was on his file.

David pursed his lip, looking around his home as if to see if anyone else was there.

“That’s what his family wanted officially published. But the truth is, we don’t really know for sure.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought. Her file should’ve had that. Why was his father’s death so tight-lipped?

She would have to do more digging on that because whatever it was, it was clearly a changing point for William.

The subject dropped, and they chatted for about another hour before Natasha decided that it was time to go.

“Oh!” David exclaimed before she was leaving. “Before you go, my parents are hosting their 40th anniversary next weekend. Here’s your invitation. I know you’re going to see William and his fiancé...please give this to them.”

“I swear you rich people have a party every week,” Liam mumbled.

Natasha took the invitations, raising her brow at David. Clearly, the man just didn’t want to see William. He smiled widely at her trying to look innocent, and Natasha could only roll her eyes.

David gave her a parting hug while Liam shook her hand.

This afternoon turned out to be more fulfilling than she thought it was going to be.

She had some useful information to work with.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Maria: Sorry, there’s nothing on his father’s death other than it being a car accident. We’ve even got all the records pulled for the coroner's report and the police records. All points to a car accident. I sent you the photos too.

Natasha sighed frustratedly as she threw her phone next to her on the couch.

Fuck, she thought. How could that be? It was evident that within the inner circle, that wasn’t how the man died.

Why could they pull nothing?

She supposed she wouldn’t find out unless she got into the inner circle.

On the bright side, Natasha managed to find who William was talking to at the café by hacking into the street cameras to find the photos of them.

It was a rather rugged-looking man, definitely not someone who belongs in the affluent circle. She had sent the photos off to see what they could come up with when she got back from lunch that day.

Her phone dinged again, this time with information sent to her.

The man’s name was Emilio Vartez. Nothing out of the usual other than petty crimes, but the fact that William was associating himself with someone like that was already telling.

She needed to see if she could find this Emilio Vartez.

Her phone dinged again, but this time to remind her that she needed to stop by The Cain estates. She had scheduled her meeting with William today, and it would be a chance to drop off David’s invitations as well.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I’m so sorry, Miss Rovinski. Mr. Cain had a sudden work emergency that just came up. He had to leave right away. I’m not too sure when he’ll be back, but he will be reaching back out to you to reschedule.”

William’s assistant was near bowing at Natasha who had simply raised her hand to show it was a no big deal.

“That’s fine,” Natasha told the assistant to stop her from apologizing. “Actually is the soon-to-be Mrs. Cain here? I need to drop off an invitation.”

The assistant actually looked hesitant to tell Natasha where you were, but it was like she reminded herself that you were now public.

“Oh, yes,” the assistant coughed after a moment. “She’s in her art studio. It’s on the second level, the farthest room in the back. I’m sorry, I would walk you, but I really have to meet up with one of the campaign managers right now.”

Natasha shook her head, “That’s fine, really. I’m sure I will find her. If not, I’ll play Marco-Polo with her.”

The assistant let out a burst of loud laughter that made Natasha internally jump.

The assistant laughed the entire way out, and Natasha stood there blinking until she was gone.

After that, Natasha followed the assistant’s directions. She would’ve taken longer to snoop around, but since she already knew she wouldn’t find anything, she went straight to her destination.

Natasha could see you through the clear window on the door. The studio was large in size, blank canvases and easels lined up on one side. You had your back turned to Natasha in a large men’s dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up in front of a canvas, various paint tubes everywhere.

Natasha entered the room quietly, just observing you. You head was tilted with your thumb in the middle of the canvas, your paintbrush delicately held between your lips.

“What are you drawing?”

You jumped as you turned around, paintbrush falling from your mouth. The brush rolled until it hit Natasha’s foot.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Natasha said as she picked up the brush to hand it to you.

You had your hair in a bun, strands have fallen out. Demurely, you brushed a strand behind your ear as you regarded Natasha.

“I’m here to give you an invitation to the King’s party next week.”

“I suppose David didn’t want to see William?” You asked with a little mirth in your tone that made Natasha quirk her lips.

“You know about David’s...feelings?”

“He doesn’t exactly keep it a secret,” you say, delicately opening the envelope.

“It doesn’t bother you that he feels that way about your husband?”

You merely smiled lopsidedly.

“My fiancé,” you corrected subtly, “is a politician.”

That’s all you said to explain, but Natasha understood the unsaid words. She eyed your canvas again and looked at your prep work.

“Watercolor?”

To her surprise, a light blush dusted your cheeks.

“It’s my favorite,” you quietly admitted.

“Why?” Natasha pried.

You looked at your easel, the faint pencil sketches on your canvas.

“I like that it’s transparent,” you said so faintly that Natasha almost didn’t catch it.

Suddenly, you turned back to face Natasha, eyeing her.

“Do you like the color black?” You asked as you caught onto her black cashmere turtleneck.

“I do,” Natasha admitted.

“Would you like to hear something interesting about it?” You were looking at Natasha so calmly, it was bringing something out in her.

“Yes.”

“People think that the color black only symbolizes unhappiness, grief, and misery, but studies show that people who are powerful wear the color black--lawyers, judges, Steve Jobs.”

Natasha laughed a little at the last one.

“Want to hear more?” You said, smiling as Natasha nodded.

“They say people who like the color black are mysterious and like to keep a certain boundary between them and the outside world.”

Natasha tilted her head. “Do you think that of me?”

“I believe only time will let me know.”

You stood up, walking by Natasha before she reached out and grabbed your wrist softly. The action seemed to surprise you as your arm pressed against the sleeve of her shirt.

“Do you like the color green?” Natasha asked as you had shades of green painted across your arm.

“At the moment, yes,” you replied.

“Would you like to know something interesting about it?” Natasha asked, repeating you. You smiled in response.

“Doctors use the color green to help relieve the fatigue in their eyes from the blood during operations, it helps them focus on examining wounds in better detail.”

You tilted your head at the fact, intrigued.

“Want to hear more?” Natasha asked, smiling herself when you nodded.

“They say kind, loyal, and compassionate people pick green as their favorite color.”

You swallowed at the words, overwhelmed by it, but Natasha could tell you were grateful nonetheless. When she released your wrist, your eyes were drawn to the streak of green smudged on her sweater.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, let me get that fo--”

“It’s alright,” Natasha interrupted you, looking at the splash of color on her sleeve. “I think your green goes well against my black.”

When she looked up, you swallowed deeply at her emerald eyes that just peered into you. Natasha was already walking towards the door before she looked back at you, bidding you goodbye for now with a definitive voice.

“I’ll see you soon.”

When Natasha walked out the front door, she clenched her jaw.

It was only a second, but it made all the difference to Natasha.

You had jumped before she spoke.

You weren’t surprised--or scared.

You expected her to be there.

PART III

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Malibu (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Of Lovers, Friends and Everything in Between. Part 4.- Picnic

Title: Malibu Category: F/F Summary: You’ll be fine, when you learn to move slow. Notes: If you are anything like me, you have had Malibu on repeat ever since Trixie released the single, and, since I can’t get it out of my head, well, this story came to life lol Written: Feb 2nd-3rd, 2020.

Malibu

Trixie hated Tinder, or any dating app for that matter.

Being a gay woman turned her into a target in those platforms. She’d lost count of how many men had offered to ‘change’ her, or the amount of couples that wanted to ‘spice things up’ in the bedroom. Those were the kind of comments that made her leave the app, and forget about it for months, until loneliness hit her again. It usually happened during a Friday or Saturday night, when most of her friends were out having fun, and she found herself eating cheese curds alone in her living room, with nothing good to watch on TV. That was when she would go through the cluster of apps she had labeled as ‘useless’, and click on the infamous flaming icon.

When she promised to take care of her family’s beach house for the weekend, she thought it was going to be so much fun. LA people had proven to be wild, and everybody was supposed to be beyond beautiful in Malibu, but, either her standards were too high or she had been lied to her entire life. Profile after profile and she couldn’t find a single soul that called her attention.

Just when she was about to close the app and maybe take care of herself out of pure boredom, an image appeared.

The blonde girl smiled widely at her with insanely white teeth. Her blue eyes pierced Trixie’s, making her feel as if she were drowning in their depths. There was only one picture, and the obligatory name at the bottom said Katya next to the number thirty-four, stating the girl’s age. Trixie didn’t remember having changed the age range on the thing, she never dated anybody more than five years older than her. Everything seemed off, a bit too suspicious. Nonetheless, she clicked the space that would tell her more about the person. Laughing, she finally swiped right when she read the bio, which could be called anything but that.

Take me to the beach somewhere so I can meet my dead dad.

It was a match. Trixie’s first message had been a joke about absent parents and her being alone in the beach house. Katya replied right away. The string of laughing emojis had seemed a bit of an exaggeration but, after a short exchange, Trixie was already inviting her for lunch the next day.

That was the reason why she was preparing a picnic basket, for them to eat out on the sand. Her favorite pink gingham cloth was folded and placed on top of cucumber sandwiches and fresh fruit. Right after she put a bottle of chilled wine in the basket, the doorbell rang.

With a deep sigh, Trixie rubbed her sweaty palms on the skirt of her dress, and checked her hair on the distorted reflection of the fridge. The heels of her sandals resounded loud in the open space of the living room, she liked that, it made her feel extra feminine. As if the pink flowy dress, the many layers of makeup, and the styled curls were not sufficient statement of that.

Even when she had seen the one picture of the girl, she had not been expecting the person that showed up at her front door. Katya was an unconventional kind of absolute gorgeous. She was shorter than Trixie, and her black chucks didn’t help to increase her height. She wore matching black jeans and an oversized gray t-shirt, the round neck of it was slightly darkened with sweat.

“I just drove forty-five minutes on the Pacific Coast Highway, so this better be a good lay,” were the first words Katya pronounced.

Trixie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, wow! I–”

Before she could continue, the girl burst out laughing. Her hand reached to get a hold of Trixie’s forearm as she shook her head. “I’m joking!” Her face suddenly turned serious as her grip turned tighter. “It can be medium good, I’m not picky.” Without giving Trixie a second the reply she was laughing again. “No, I’m just kidding.”

“You are, like… a lot, aren’t you?” Trixie struggled to find words to describe the ball of energy slightly bouncing in front of her. For a moment, she was afraid her unfiltered mouth had insulted the girl she had just met, but luckily it wasn’t the case.

“Oh, Momma! You haven’t seen anything yet,” the girl promised as she let go of Trixie and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Katya.” The smile that she shot Trixie was brighter than the sun burning above them, and warmer too.

Chills ran down Trixie’s spine as she took Katya’s hand, feeling electricity running through her veins as she shook it. “I’m Trixie. Hello.”

“Oof,” Katya winced, shaking her head and physically taking a step back, away from Trixie. “You need to work on your greeting. That was way too aggressive.”

A scream left Trixie unannounced. She threw her head back in joy as a small ‘you bitch’ left her mouth. She wasn’t complaining, though. Their interaction had been entertaining, to say the least. Trixie could already feel herself liking Katya right from the intro. She invited her in with a smile nailed to her mouth, and a giddy feeling invading her body. It was unlike anything she had felt before, never in her twenty-seven years on Earth had another human made her feel so nervous, yet incredibly comfortable. She was really good at reading people, she could quickly put them in categories and know if they were gonna click or not. Katya was in a category of her own. Trixie, as much as she wanted, couldn’t find a mental compartment where she could place Katya.

The blonde wavy hair bounced with Katya’s steps as she moved around the house. “So, you are rich. I mean, like, Richie Rich rich, huh?” She looked at the expensive furniture, extending and retrieving her hand, almost as if she were scared to touch and ruin anything.

“Not even,” Trixie answered with a roll of her eyes. “My family is, but they always made it very clear that it was their money, not mine.”

Katya nodded, her lips pursing slightly. “Alright. I respect that.” She stopped her examination of the room to look at Trixie. “You’ve got any plans for today?” She stuffed her hands in her pockets, fully indicating she had no idea what to do next.

“I thought we could have a picnic, outside by the water,” Trixie replied proudly, she had thought things through carefully. She started walking, making her way towards the kitchen, wordlessly asking the girl to follow her. “Hopefully, you will like what I made.“ She picked up the basket and looked over her shoulder, just to confirm that Katya was indeed walking right behind her.

“Do-do you have any water?” Katya seemed almost anxious as she asked. “I-I don’t drink,” she said pushing her chin towards the basket, where the neck of a bottle stuck out from.

Trixie quickly apologized for not asking, taking the wine out and putting it on the table. She opened the refrigerator and leaned forward. Her short dress was sure to ride up at the position. She could only hope Katya liked what she saw as Trixie pretended to find something else to drink.

“Would you like some kombucha?” She asked as innocently as possible, noticing how Katya’s eyes bolted back to her face.

“Absolutely not,” Katya spoke punctuating her words. It sounded like she was approving of the beverage until the last word was spoken. “I would rather drink the salt water straight from the ocean than that hipster excuse of a drink.”

With a roll of her eyes, Trixie put the glass bottle back to its place. “It’s really good for you, FYI. It has all these–” she turned around, and stopped midsentence when she noticed Katya was no longer in the room. Stretching her neck, Trixie saw that Katya had walked out through the sliding doors and was impatiently waiting for her.

“Come on!” She encouraged as she started walking, the basket dangling in her hand as she easily carried it with her.

Despite the small shake of her head, Trixie found herself smiling. She followed Katya’s path and reached her just when Katya was done setting the sheet down. Trixie dropped next to her on the pink and white piece of fabric, removed her sandals and extended her legs, hoping to get them at least a little bit tanned. Her hand dug into the basket and took out a small container with grapes, offered them to Katya, who gratefully took a handful, before relaxing on her spot.

“What is it that you do, then?” Katya asked around a mouthful of fruit. “How do you make your own money?”

“I’m a hair and makeup artist,” Trixie said with a smile. She loved her job and could talk about it for hours. Katya, however, didn’t seem like the type of person that could hear about hair and makeup for hours. “What about you? You have like zero information on your profile.” Trixie rested her chin on her own shoulder, squinting to get a better view of Katya, who sat on her heels next to her.

There was a sigh and a groan as Katya physically deflated, before she uttered an actual reply. “I just hate those things, you know? I never know what to say. Like, I can’t say I’m a good person. Good people don’t say they are good people! Honestly, I just wanted to put actual facts like: I’m this old, this tall, I weigh this much, and I’m in this area.”

Trixie tilted her head in wonder. “Are you a kitten up for adoption?”

The sounds that came out of Katya were frightening and charming, all at the same time. It was a genuine laughter that sounded more like an old squeaky toy. She spotted a napkin and tried to throw it at Trixie, but the wind pushed it to land on Katya’s lap instead. They both laughed openly, freely, happily. The conversation flowed easily from that point on. They touched on the most basic topics, from immediate family to likes and dislikes. They ate with the sound of the crashing waves as background noise.

It didn’t take an expert to notice they were complete opposites, but it didn’t bother Trixie. She liked the simplicity with which Katya talked about complex subjects. She would quickly jump from one thing to another, seemingly unrelated, but Trixie was sure there was some connection between topics that only Katya understood. If she could have one wish granted, Trixie would like to see inside of Katya’s head, witness how the information bounced off of the walls of her skull, tangled with the wiring of her brain, before coming out of her mouth at a rapid speed.

Something warm filled Trixie’s chest. She had no idea what it was, but it was a nice feeling. She liked the sense of comfort and instant connection she had with the girl bending in laughter next to her. Trixie wanted to run her hand through Katya’s hair, let her fingers caress those sharp cheekbones, touch every single one of her soft curves and create a mental map of her body. Katya was so beautiful, so smart, so out of her league.

“Why did you agree to meet me?” Trixie suddenly asked without even thinking about it. She sat up straight, realizing she really wanted to know the answer. “Like, I’m clearly not your type, why did you even swipe right?”

The question took Katya by surprise. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at Trixie intensely. Although, Trixie had to wonder if there was anything about Katya that wasn’t intense.

“Okay, first of all, you don’t even know what my type is.” Katya pointed an accusative finger at Trixie before continuing. “I don’t have a type. Never had. I like people, and I like sex even more, preferebly with people.” She extended her hands in front of her, as if highlighting the relation between the two. “Now, about you. I don’t know. I liked your tits, and then you got my Contact reference… I knew I had to meet you after that.” She punctuated the end of her speech with an approving nod.

Trixie’s nose scrunched up. “What reference?”

“The dead dad on the beach one?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Katya’s mouth opened in surprise. “Contact? Jodie Foster?” She asked, getting a head shake in return to each of her questions. “Didn’t you message me about wanting to meet your dad, who was dead, at the beach somewhere?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I never met my dad, so he’s probably dead, and I’m currently staying in Malibu.”

“Oh, my God!” Katya brought her hands to her hair as she yelled. “I can’t believe this. It’s all a lie. I’ve been tricked. When were you planning to tell me? When–” The rest of the question died on her lips as Trixie’s mouth crashed with her.

It was clumsy at first, Katya wasn’t done ranting, and Trixie was only trying to shut her up. Their faces bumped into each other a couple of times before they both relaxed and finally kissed. Trixie sucked Katya’s bottom lip, biting slightly. The sound that came out of Katya was so sexy that Trixie had to press her thighs together, putting pressure where she needed it the most. The moment didn’t go unnoticed by Katya. Her hands landed on Trixie’s hips, pulling her to a kneeling position. Their torsos pressed together, breasts rubbing to the erratic movements of their heavy breathing.

Trixie felt turned on beyond knowledge, all she knew how to identify were Katya’s lips wrapped around hers. Katya tasted sweet and salty, like the fruit they had shared mixed with the breeze of the ocean. There was an almost unidentifiable flavor, a strong aftertaste that lingered in Trixie’s tongue after it ran against Katya’s.

“Do you smoke?” Trixie asked against Katya’s lips, not breaking the kiss, but pulling away enough to speak.

Katya’s hand ran up Trixie’s thigh, squeezing slightly. “Would you mind if I said yes?”

Gasping to the touch of Katya’s cold hand, Trixie threw her head back. “As long as you don’t…” She lost her train of thought as Katya’s hand went higher. “If you do– oh!” She yelped as a finger ran against her underwear. “God, just fuck me, okay?” Her knees spread, giving Katya better access.

“Not here, though,” Katya spoke as she kissed Trixie’s chin. “This is not exactly a private beach.”

Trixie opened one eye, among the fog of desire she could see the figures of a family playing ball. “Fine. Let’s go inside.”

Taking Katya by the hand, Trixie stood up and started walking towards the house. She didn’t care about the stuff they were leaving behind. Nothing really occupied her mind other than having Katya on top of her, inside of her, all around her. She could feel her legs shaking with expectation. It had been a long time since she last had sex, but she wasn’t nervious. She, somehow, knew she could trust Katya. They seemed to have some sort of astral connection, and Trixie wondered how they could apply that nonverbal communication in the bedroom.

Unfortunately, the bedroom proved to be too far away. As soon as they entered the kitchen through the glass doors, the kissing restarted. Trixie pushed her own back against the nearest wall and allowed Katya to press her entire body on top of hers. It was all too much. The heat emanating Katya tickled her skin, making Trixie shiver. Their mouths attacked each other as hands landed on every spot of uncovered skin.

Katya snaked her hands under Trixie’s dress and squeezed her ass, forcing Trixie to release her mouth as she gasped in pleasure. Katya caressed the soft skin of her butt lovingly, taking her time to enjoy the feeling of the fleshy cheeks under her fingers.

“I’m gonna eat you out now, is that okay?”

Trixie could do nothing but nod at such formal request. Still in disbelief, she saw how Katya dropped to her knees. Her big smile was the last thing Trixie saw before her eyes shut by themselves. Katya’s hands found the hem of Trixie’s dress and lifted the skirt, before disappearing inside and pulling the small thong down slowly. Trixie felt a finger running up and down her entrance, circling around where she so desperately needed to be touched.

“Katya, please,” Trixie shamelessly begged, and it worked.

She felt the wet tongue pushing flat against her most sensitive spot. Her knees bent slightly, she extended her arms and tried to find support between the glass door and the cabinets next to her. Katya licked her skillfully. Her lips sucked and released her just right, her tongue flicked at the perfect pace. And as if fucking her with her mouth wasn’t enough, Katya pushed a finger inside without warning. Trixie screamed loudly, thankful that the houses were fairly far apart so the neighbours couldn’t hear them. Her sounds only grew higher in pitch as another finger was introduced, and then a third.

Time fully stopped as Trixie sunk down on Katya’s fingers, pleasuring herself at the rhythm she wanted. Her senses felt on the edge of an overload as Katya ate her out simultaneously.

“Pluh-please, stop,” Trixie asked, panting.

In a quick move, Katya removed the dress from around her head with her free hand. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Then why you asked me to stop, bitch?”

Trixie looked to the side, almost shying away from the question. “I don’t wanna… not like this, not without you.”

Sighing deeply, Katya removed her hand carefully, and stood up. “So you are one of those lesbians, huh? You don’t wanna fuck, you want to make love.” She drawled the last word, making fun of the concept.

“Excuse me?” Trixie didn’t try to hide the annoyance in her voice.

Katya took the short sleeve of her shirt and tried to dry her chin as she spoke. “C’mon. You know what I mean. I thought we were just gonna get laid, and you put together a-a stupid picnic date? For fuck’s sake. Who does that? Gross.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I wanted to do something nice for us.”

“For us?” Katya spun around with her hands in the air. “There is no us, Brenda! We literally just met. We talked once, on a hook up app. We were not even having the same conversation! I thought it was all about Contact and you were spilling your childhood trauma. What the fuck! How did you even get picnic from that?”

Crossing her arms on top of her chest, Trixie distanced herself from Katya. It took every cell of will power to step away from her underwear without picking it up, and Trixie still didn’t know if leaving it there was less shameful.

“You need to leave.”

“Oh, but we were just gonna make playlists that reminded us of our first date.” Katya pouted theatrically, stomping her feet hard on the ground.

Trixie didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. “Now!” She shouted, pointing towards the door.

Without another word, Katya stormed out, slamming the door behind herself. Trixie stared at the piece of wood, expecting something from it without knowing what it was. She breathed deeply once, twice, the third time never came. A sob cut through her chest, coming out in a guttural scream. Katya was right. Trixie was smitten since the moment she laid eyes on Katya, and not even in person, just one look at the single picture and she was gone. She understood then that the first step of being let down was getting her hopes up. It had to stop.

One day. Trixie allowed herself one day to wallow. It wasn’t even about Katya, she reasoned. She needed a moment to analyze her motives, then she would pick the pieces back up and move on with her life. Her mind was blank for the entire day. She turned off her phone, put on some baking show on Netflix, and ate microwave popcorn straight from the bag. It had been a day of nothing but self pity and indulging in all the things she knew were bad for her.

Monday came and reality kicked back in. She went to her job at the studio and tried to entertain conversation with B-list celebrities as she got them ready for their low ratings shows. That was something she was good at, something she was confident about. Just like that, she fell back into a routine and the pity party was left behind. At least for the rest of the week. Once Friday reached her again, and she was in no mood to look after her drunk friends, she felt loneliness wanting to creep back in.

Her fingers found the useless folder and clicked on the app by themselves. Between the many unread messages sitting on her inbox, the red bubble next to Katya’s face called her attention. She opened the conversation, just to make the notification go away, but what she saw was something she hadn’t expected. There was a string of messages from Katya asking her to talk, the last one left her phone number, notifying Trixie that would be her last attempt and she should call her if she felt like it.

It took less than a minute of pondering before the call was already connecting.

Katya picked up on the third ring, just when Trixie was about to hang up.

“Who is this? I don’t have this number saved. Are you a scammer?”

Trixie had to laugh at Katya’s words, that were in no shape or form a greeting. Apparently, her laughter worked as an introduction because Katya’s voice immediately changed.

“Trixie, is that you? Fuck. I didn’t think you were gonna call.”

“Hello,” Trixie said as softly as possible, remembering what Katya had said about working on her greeting.

“Hey, that’s so much better! Hi. Listen, I want… please, don’t hang up. I will go straight to the point. I’m sorry. I was rude and mean, and you didn’t deserve all the fucked up things that I said to you.”

A small smirk was slowly forming on her lips. “Go on,” Trixie encouraged her.

Even when she couldn’t see her, Trixie could tell Katya was also smiling by now. “I like you, I like you a lot. This is just so new to me. I’m used to, you know, using the hook up app to hook up. I went there looking for a one time thing, not to, like, stay. Never expected to find… you. I’ve never been with a type like you before.”

For a moment, Trixie wished she was using a land line. She so desperately wanted to twist her finger around the phone cord. “And what is my type?”

“You know, pretty girls who are out of this world funny. All the hyper-femmes I’ve found are hot on the body but empty in the head; and boring. God, you have no idea how boring hot girls can be.” A frustrated groan escaped her, but she recovered right away, as if the actual reason for the call had suddenly hit her. “I just… could you, maybe, give me another chance? It’s stupid but all I can think about is being in Malibu with you again. I’ll prepare the dumb picnic this time. Although, I can’t promise we won’t be eating, like, old batteries and drinking Red Bulls. That’s probably all the things that can be found in my bag right now, but–”

“Oh, my God! Stop!” Trixie shouted between giggles. “If what you wanted was to annoy me into accepting, you can stop now.”

Katya’s whizzing laughter travelled through miles and miles until it digitally filled Trixie’s ears.

“So, is that a yes? Can we give it another go?”

“Yes, you idiot. I’ll go out with you again.”

“Marvellous, darling! Pick you up tomorrow, same place?”

On her end of the line, Trixie shook her head. “I actually live in Century City. You can pick me up here and we’ll go to Malibu. We can even work on those playlists on our way.”

Loud laughter was heard before Katya spoke again. “Deal. Bring the Red Bulls, I’ll bring the batteries.”

Trixie smiled, pressing her cheek against the cold glass of her cellphone. “Please, don’t feed me batteries. We can go to a restaurant or something.”

“No,” Katya stated solemnly. “We’ll have a picnic. That’s gonna be our thing, I’ve declared it. See you tomorrow, then?”

“See you tomorrow. Good night.” Just before she hung up, Trixie heard Katya calling her name. “Yeah?”

“We’ll be fine. Let’s just take it slow, okay?”

“Okay,” Trixie agreed. “We’ll be fine,” she repeated, more to herself than the emptiness coming from the device, indicating that the call had ended. “I’ll be fine.”

#rpdr fanfiction #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #smut #lesbian au #of lovers #dendenmonmon #submission

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rock-n-roll-refugee · 5 years

Text

Ultraviolence~Chapter 1

I had to rewrite this because I forgot to save it... shoot me

PART 2 OUT NOW ON MY PAGE (I’m too lazy and dumb to link)

Peter Parker x Villain!Reader

A/N: This is something I wanna try, and I know I suck at writing and sticking to one project so let’s see how well this goes. And if y’all like this please let me know I feed off your complements :( also idk what The Hand is, i know its from Daredevil, but I'm just using it randomly. sorry

warnings: a lot of swearing lol, violence, blood

If you watched A Clockwork Orange you would know that the storyline follows a madman’s twisted descent into normality. Substitute Def Leppard for the old Ludwig Van and you have the tragic story of (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

She had many similarities to the infamous Alex Delarge in which they both are mentally deranged and crave that sweet taste of violence. (Y/N) also took part in somewhat of a gang, but it wasn’t like Alex’s droogs. It was more of an ancient organization of assassins than a gang, but nonetheless, she was on the wrong side of the law. The organization was called The Hand and she was taken in by Bakuto, the leader, when she was only four after her father killed her mother and abandoned a very young (Y/N) on the streets. Her father was a rouge member and destroyed his family so he could escape for himself. Or at least that was the story she was told. Bakuto took her in because he saw potential, or maybe it was just her superhuman powers, for she had the ability to manipulate the elements into any weapon of choice making her an excellent weapon for The Hand.

It was a typical mission, take out a corrupt entrepreneur who had got caught in a bad situation with some bad people. It was a task that she had preformed many times over many years, but today was different. It was her first solo mission.

“Its in and out. Simple as that.” she whispered to herself.

She scaled the building, it was a large villa on the edge Lake George in New York. It was magnificent and it all came from dirty money. The atmosphere gave her a boost of confidence and she decided, why not have a little fun? Unlike the rest of The Hand, she always liked to spice up her assassinations with a little flare. Just like her idol Mr. Delarge, she was always one for the dramatics. A lot of her inspiration came from her favorite movie, as you know, is A Clockwork Orange. However, this was the only film (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has ever sense there wasn't anything to compare to. She smuggled the film into base, knowing she was forbidden to view films from the outside, and that it would disrupt her training, but it was her only memory with her previous family. Her father would watch this movie and to her mother’s dismay, she watched it along with him even though it was a movie very unsuitable for young eyes. What should be considered an awful memory according to Bakuto was something of comfort for (Y/N). Unlike most, she sympathized for Alex Delarge, and even though he was meant to be an evil “anti-hero”, she was able to relate to his strife.

She was lost in her thoughts when she heard the front doors open and close. She snuck to a new hiding spot and watch guests flow into the mansion. There was a corporate celebration being held tonight, and what better way of sending a message than in front of maybe hundreds. The hours passed and it became gradually hard to stay hidden due to the vast amount of party goers. She was ahead of the game however and was prepared for this situation. She changed into appropriate attire for the event, which was a black camisole dress layered with a mesh long sleeve dress with gold embroidery, which was provided to her. She slipped on the obligatory heels and joined the party, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“I don’t understand Mr. Stark, why did you have to bring me here again?” Peter whined at Tony as the exited the car.

“Kid, if you want to be involved with Stark Industries you need to know how to go to things like this.” Tony said waving off Happy.

“Who is this guy anyways?” Peter said trying to keep up with Tony

“This guy is a pretty big investor in my company, and it would be rude of us not to go. He’s kind of a jackass though.”

They maneuvered their way through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting unfamiliar people. They finally found a place to stand, to be greeted by yet more money sniffing mongrels wanting to stuff their greedy hands into Tony’s pockets. Peter slouched over getting bored after only 15 minutes and waiting for this event to be over. He groaned and Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. Peter’s eyes began to scan the room for something slightly interesting, when he caught a good look at her. His posture suddenly improved grabbing Tony’s attention. He watched Peter drool over the (Y/H/C) haired girl in the black and gold dress, watching every move she made.

“Quit drooling kid and go talk to her.” Tony demanded. Peter’s eyes went large.

“Wha-what do you mean Mr. Stark?” Peter stuttered looking back from her and Tony.

“You really aren’t subtle.” Tony said face palming, “quit groaning and go over there. Gives you something to do rather than bugging me all night.”

Tony nudged Peter in her direction and he slowly and awkwardly waddled over to her. She stood in a pretty empty part of the party with her arms crossed, just staring blankly into the crowd.

“he-hey” he said softly

She looked at the nervous boy with her eyebrow raised,

“hi” she said easily dismissing him

“um... so... cool party right?”

“right.” she said giving only a sliver of attention the the boy. Her attitude gave him a weird boost in confidence.

“So, what’s your name?” He asked throwing her off guard.

“Uhhh...” she was preparing to go unnoticed and not talk to anyone, so she didn’t even bother coming up with a fake name. She frantically scanned the room for ideas. She looked over to the bar and saw the bartender pouring a drink for a partygoer,

“Scotch...” she muttered, “Scotch uhhhh...”

She then saw a man walk by wearing a brown leather jacket,

“Leather?” She said unsure.

“Scotch Leather?” Peter asked

“Yeah...” she said mentally face palming.

He began to burst out laughing as she joined him laughing nervously.

“I’m so sorry, I know that’s your name and its very rude of me to laugh, but no offense, that sounds like a stripper’s name.” He said as she scoffed. She realized the humor in it and began to laugh hysterically with him.

Hours went by, and the two just talked and laughed about everything. As night fell, they heard a glass being chimed, attracting everyone’s attention. The host, and (Y/N)’s target stood up in the front of the room.

“That’s my cue” she said to herself.

“Sorry what?” Peter said no catching what she was saying.

“Oh, I said I need to use the restroom.” she said putting down her glass of water, “It was nice meeting you Parker.”

Peter smiled victoriously and marched back to Tony.

“You were over there for a while. How’d it go?” Tony whispered as the host began his speech.

“Amazing! She's smart, and pretty, and my age too!” Peter told him ecstatically.

“Did you get her number?”

“Crap.”

She had changed back into her previous attire and snuck onto the roof where she had a good view of her target. She tied her hair up into a tight bun and slipped on her mask. She had to use her full face mask due to the fact that she walked around the party for a while and enough people saw her face to be able to show it. She groaned at the suffocation and begrudgingly stuffed her head in. It was musty and smelled like sweat, and the connected goggles were scratched up and foggy. The one advantage was that her identity was completely hidden and she looked pretty freaky. She adjusted her suit, which was an all black bulletproof suit that went up to her neck, and cargo pants and boots over the suit.

She reached out her hand and a chunk of metal melted from a bare pipe and flew into her hand, shaping into a katana once it touched her palm. she peaked through the skylight at the target, still rambling on.

“...and to all those who have been a part of my project, I’d like to thank and for the profits, we are making more than we anticipated, so I am making a proposal for the next...”

He droned on for a long time, but she had to wait for the perfect moment. She wanted to make her first solo mission something to remember.

She cut a hole through the skylight and swiftly hopped down right behind him, barely making a noise when her feet touched the floor. She went unnoticed until she stood up behind him. She was merely a shadow, and barely visible, but what caught everyone’s eye was the gleam of her sword. The crowd audibly gasps at the intruder and a frightened murmur is heard throughout the room.

“I know, I know. These new plans are ambitious, but trust me I have a plan to initiate a...” he says, as a reply to the gasps and murmurs.

The assassin smirks under her mask as the host turns around confused as to why the crowd looked frightened, and the moment he is face to face with her she sheaths her katana deep into his heart. The people in the crown scream and run frantically out of the building. She chuckles knowing the scene looks almost like renaissance painting, her and the target dead center, his eyes rolled back into his head, and the frenzy of the guests scattering the ironically serene and exquisite room. It was almost poetic and how she wished she could get a snapshot of the moment. She twisted the sword making the man scream out in pain and retracted her sword, taking one last look at the magnificent scene and scurrying off.

“Hey Peter?” Tony asked, not looking directly at him

“Y-yeah?”

“Do you have your suit on you?”

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years

Text

9x05: Dog Dean Afternoon

Welcome to our last hellatus recap. This is one of our themed episodes and it’s not too late to guess what that is. You’ll win bragging rights forever! Anyway, our show is back tomorrow!

Then:

Obligatory Teddy Bear shot of how AbsUrD this show can be. Note to Show: Don’t highlight the absurdity of this show when you’re about to air a so-so episode.

Now:

As a very dedicated taxidermist works on his Game of Thrones masterpieces, his very smart, very loyal German Shepherd, Colonel, alerts him to danger. They head through the halls of stuffed animals (but they’re all fake because who the fuck is stuffing these bears and shit? Also, a dog? Aren’t tigers endangered? WTF is all this?). Anyway, a man with a snake tongue attacks the taxidermist and Colonel sees it all.

At the bunker, Sam’s got a case.

Once at the Taxidermy shop, they find it covered in red paint, and a little paw print symbol. Sam takes a picture.

Agents and Michaels and Deville enter the crime scene. And by crime, I mean all the dead animals. WTF? Like. WTF? Let’s assume all these animals died of natural causes, so we can pretend the victim was “a good egg.” Sam heads off to tour the place and Dean stops to interview Mr. Stevens. As Dean learns about “entrails” and such, Sam looks over the merch.

Poor Dean Bean continues to have frightening reminders about why he’s a germaphobe.

The boys are thinking witch, but decide to keep digging.

At their motel, Sam discovers the “wiccan symbol” is really an animal right’s group symbol. (LOL, I totally don’t remember this episode and I’m totally NOT changing my caption from above.)

Dean and Sam head to a vegan bakery where we learn that Dean knows the smell of Patchouli. Yeah, you might mask that with disdain for non-meat eaters, Dean, but we see you. They head to interrogate Olivia and Dylan, two founding members of S.N.A.R.T., the animal right’s group. They’re wearing sunglasses inside, so Dean thinks they’re douchebags. The brothers flash their badges. The couple sits down to talk about the victim. “You know how hunters are. They’re selfish dicks who define themselves by what they kill.”

They explain that someone attacked them with pepper spray and that’s why they look like douchebags.

Back at the motel, Sam further investigates the attack and the brothers surmise that they were attacked by venom.

At the local animal shelter, Brad gets a visit from Snake Man. Brad knows the guy and gets a $100 to let him walk into the kennel. The dude gathers ALL THE CATS and Brad wanders in to watch him EAT ONE. Yeah, we’re technically not on hate watch week anymore, BUT I STILL HATE THIS.

Brad doesn’t last long.

At the new crime scene, the brothers try to piece together the new information. Dean sees Colonel in a cage and ACCUSES HIM OF BEING A SUSPECT. GUH. Dean, just say you hate dogs and go home. Colonel doesn’t react to silver and Sam guesses they “can rule out killer.” Colonel starts barking.

How would you like to come home with me and live in a nice big bunker and go for car rides all the time and eat liver sausages and help solve mysteries?

Dean THE SMARTEST BEAN AROUND Winchester notices that Colonel is reacting to the local cop’s hat, so he tries it out. Bingo. Colonel was a witness to the crimes.

Sam thinks there’s a way to communicate with the dog to find out what he’s seen.

Kevin gets them a spell to talk with the dog. Dean agrees to drink the Mind Meld concoction because he doesn’t want Sam to take on more than healing from near death even if he doesn’t know if because he has an angel possessing him. Whew.

The spell doesn’t seem to work (But it DID, so can I like get said spell? I’d really love to talk with my cat on the regular, lolz, I’m not crazy.)

After eating lunch, Colonel sits up and asks for the channel to be changed. DUDE. It’s Foreigner. No one puts Foreigner in the corner. Dean’s on my side and has a nice argument with the dog while Sam watches confused.

Dean gets to the point of the situation and asks about the cowboy hat. The killer wears a hat. WBK. As he throws away his food wrapping, Sam wants to know about the cats. Dean retrieves it like a good boy. (but seriously, German Shepherds ARE NOT RETRIEVERS. Good luck getting them to return anything!)

Suddenly, there’s a noise outside and both Dean and Colonel head to the window to harass the mailman. Yep.

Back at the motel, Sam tells Dean that side effects of mind melding with an animal can include developing animal urges. Suddenly I’m reminded of Dean’s fascination with the dog familiar from season eight and feel horribly uncomfortable. Dean angrily opens a chocolate bar, only for the dog to warn him off of it. No chocolate? This is an outrage!

Outside, a pigeon poops on Baby. “Hey, dick move, pigeon!” The bird returns anger with insult. “Screw you, asshat!” Apparently all animals have a universal language just sprinkled with insults! Dean shouts at the pigeon with all the subtlety of a very large human-shaped dog.

Sam manages to drag Dean into the car, but not before I make a diorama of this scene and place it on my Supernatural altar of Very Good Things.

Dean and Sam argue over whether they should leave Colonel in the car. “You think we like that?” Dean asks, ROYALLY insulted. Hell, no. Colonel’s going in with them. In a moment where I curse my horrific prescience, Dean gives a lusty once-over to a nearby tied-up poodle. I…just…

Inside the shelter, Dean interrogates all the shelter animals. There’s only one dog who can give any good intel, and the dog only delivers in exchange for a belly rub. From Sam.

The dog gives them a tip: they’re looking for a cowboy hatted villain who works at a nearby restaurant. Dean lets all the animals free before they leave. “I didn’t peg you for a softy,” Colonel remarks. But WE all knew. Dean Bean <3

The Winchesters break into the restaurant that evening and discover a giant stash of prescription medications and…a cage of mice. The mice give Dean a tip: animal bits and pieces are stored neatly in the refrigerator. Sam finds a spell: with the right magic, ingesting a certain bit of animal helps the magician to temporarily gain that animal’s power. The guy’s mixing various animal parts to experiment on the effects and fun new powers he might develop.

Dean and Sam encounter a chef and waiter preparing a private dinner (featuring shark fin) and shoo them out under the guise of health inspector.

Chef Leo nibbled on a chameleon, which allows him to get the drop on Sam.

He swipes at Sam’s throat. Gadreel flashes to life and heals Sam’s terrible throat slash. Leo witnesses this miraculous healing and decides that Sam’s the ultimate snak - I mean, meal.

Leo sniffs out a dog, only to turn around and see…Dean. When the chef learns that Dog Dean and Angel Sam are brothers he is many levels of confused, but that doesn’t put him off his plans to chow down on Sam Fucking Winchester and his creamy angel filling. Dean, being a dog, immediately sniffs out some new information about Leo: he has cancer. Traditional treatments did nothing to help Leo, but his animal power worked. While his quest began sympathetically, murder is a side effect that Leo’s totally cool with as long as he can keep pushing the boundaries of man and beast. “Guess you eat enough predators, you start to become one.”

The chef pulls out a wolf heart so he can tear Dean - a mere dog - into little kibble sized bits. Dean breaks free just in time and leads Leo on a merry chase outside. He looks oddly triumphant for being cornered by Leo in an alley, and whistles sharply. A pack of the stray dogs come running and tear Leo to bits.

Dean races back to check on Sam and calls for Sam…or Zeke...to wake up. “Don’t make me lick your damn face,” he pleads dramatically. Sam snaps awake. Hooray! Happy ending!

We jump to the Colonel meeting the vegans from earlier. They wuv that cute widdle puppy wuppy! Dean regrets that they can’t take Colonel along with them but it’s no life for a dog! It’s vegan dog treats from here on out.

The spell wears off just as Colonel tells Dean, “Dogs aren't really man's best friend. I know it sounds like a conspiracy theory, but the real reason we were put here was to…” He starts barking, and the spell’s done at last. I’m sure we’ll finally learn the truth about dogs in the final scene of season 15, right? RIGHT?

At the car, Dean checks in with Sam. Sammy’s fine, but he’s a little weirded out by what Leo said about him - why did he want to know WHAT Sam was? Dean dissembles awkwardly and they take off for further adventures, played out to the credits by sad guilt violins.

These Quotes Have Fleas:

The slippery nipple shots at the Dolly Parton Dixie Stampede nearly killed the guy

Always knew I'd find the source of all evil at a vegan bakery

You know who wears sunglasses inside? Blind people. And douchebags

I need a Raquel Welch poster and a rock hammer

I’m getting extorted by a dog

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 9x05 #dog dean afternoon #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural season 9

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queerb · 4 years

Note

“Why are you following me?” for whoever you want! (though it feels like a Shiva/Avon or Mochi/Aria thing to me lol)

Short thing for the Punk!AU. My focus was in and out while writing this whole thing, so, oops ^^;

Oh, Sepir is going to kill her for this.

But in the moment, Avon doesn't care. Her mind is too full of sound. The rowdy crowd is partly to blame, but the music is what keeps her attention. She could hear it from outside the park, from the moment she crawled through the clipped fence. And she'd followed the sound to the farthest end of the venue, to a stage alive with lights and movement and music.

"They're really good, aren't they?"

The guy next to her has to shout to be heard. Avon gives him a brief glance and a nod to humor him, but turns back to the show after that.

"Are you a fan?"

Conceptually, sure. She doesn't know the name of the band. It's not like she bought a ticket, after all. Avon nods again and leaves it at that.

From the corner of her eye, she can see the guy watch her for a few seconds more. Then he shrugs, an exaggerated movement, and starts squeezing his way forward through the audience.

After the first band is done, they call their goodbyes and abandon the stage so it can be set for the next act. Parts of the audience disperse in the absence of anything to watch, Avon among them.

She wanders to the drink tent first (for water, mind you, she can't risk getting carded and caught) and hears a familiar voice. She thinks it's familiar, anyway. Hard to tell without the bass pounding in her ears.

"Hi again, enjoying yourself?"

Avon turns to look at him this time and can't help a little smile; he's shorter than her. And he's certainly dressed for a music festival, wearing flashy teals and blues and adorned with gold jewelry. Contrasting with all of that is his makeup, black around his eyes and lips, and the comparatively plain wooden guitar strapped to his back.

"You an act, Shiny?" Avon asks.

"Not yet," he answers, and his air of confidence tells her he's sure of the possibility. "And it's Shiva, actually. You were close. Can I buy you a drink?"

Avon pulls back. "I'm not that stupid."

"Whoa, not what I meant. But fair enough."

Before he can say anything else, Avon trods away, waving her cup in a goodbye that's more obligatory than polite.

They find each other again not ten minutes later.

"Why are you following me?" Shiva chuckles, reclined against a fence at the far end of the park.

"Why are you following me?" Avon counters. “I just came over here for a break--”

“And I was already here, so who’s following who?”

While Avon sputters, irritation replacing the words in her head, Shiva leans forward and pulls the guitar from his back. He traces his fingers over the strings, pulling from them a metallic buzz. “Is it cheesy to say you remind me of a song?”

“You’re not seriously doing this, are you?”

He smirks, as if she wasn’t already pissed enough, and answers her with the first few chords of a tune she actually recognizes. Her curiosity is, unfortunately, piqued. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Hell yeah. Knew you had good taste.”

So she lets him go on. But it’s only a few seconds before the notes turn sour. Shiva fumbles, trying to get back into the correct key while trying to keep face. By the time he opens his mouth to start singing, Avon is already calling for curtains. “Dude, stop. You sound like garbage.”

Shiva’s eyes widen and he stops the song with one more false swipe. “Well...at least you’re honest. I should mention I haven’t been playing for very long.”

“Ya don’t say. Give it here.”

He chuckles nervously. “You play?”

“That song is the reason I learned.”

His shoulders slump, an action he quickly disguises with a shrug. Then, after a moment of consideration that’s probably too brief, he complies, holding his guitar out to Avon by the neck. “Alright, girlie. Impress me.”

#b writes #oc talk #sternbagel #aslafsadkg sorry i'm days late on this

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twdmusicboxmystery · 5 years

Text

FTWD 5x14: Analysis

Morning everyone! What did everyone think of last night’s episode? I liked it. It ended on a sad mote, though.

***As always, spoilers abound for this episode below. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

There were two basic story lines. First, Morgan and Al, who found a place where Ginny and her group was holed up.

Secondly, there was Grace and Daniel who are on a supply run, but starting to head back toward the convoy.

Daniel and Grace:

At the beginning, Grace tries to get a hold of some solar panels to take back to the convoy for the future. Solar panels = sun and sun/ABIBEL = Beth reference.

Also, Grace is listening to the audio version of Don Quixote. So I’m not going to do a major explanation of how this could be yet another Beth template. Maybe I will at some point, especially if they feature it more than once, but probably not this week. If you want to know, just check out Wikipedia and read the plot summary for Don Quixote. For now, I’ll just say that it’s kind of on par with The Wizard of Oz, because Dorothy is in a dream work of not-quite-true things, and there are things both in plot and in theme that can tie in well with TWD. The actual part Grace listens to talks about making war on those who are less chivalrous. So once again, I think they’re foreshadowing a major war here. Most likely with the helicopter people.

Then, Grace gets word from the convoy that the oil fields have been lost. She and Daniel decide to head back to the convoy. Before they leave, Daniel goes into a music shop and grabs a bunch of vinyl records. (“I can’t remember the last time I heard a record.” Edwards had vinyls at Grady.)

On their way to the convoy, their truck breaks down. Daniel has an interesting line. He says he has a cat “with serious behavioral issues." It was a joke, but it was the “serious” that caught my attention. Obligatory serious/Sirius reference for this episode. Then Grace says there’s a bar nearby (alcohol reference) and they start walking toward it.

Grace also says the moon is bright enough for them to go on foot. Just reminded me of both the moon we saw in Still, as well as this picture from 4b:

As they walk, Daniel talks about Skidmark (his cat). He says Skidmark was all he had for a while. They would eat together, listen to music together, and for a while, it seemed like that's the way it would stay. Then Grace asks, "what changed?"

Daniel doesn't get a chance to answer because a bunch of walkers show up. Trying to fight them, he accidentally drops the records all over the ground. The walkers stomp on them, breaking a bunch of them.

What he said about him and the cat could easily have applied to Beth and Daryl at the funeral home. They were all one another had. They ate together,

listened to music together,

and for a while, it seemed like that's the way it would stay.

Daniel didn't say what changed, it was walkers that cut him off. With Beth and Daryl, what changed was that walkers got in, forcing them out of the house.

And all this is being said while Daniel and Grace walk down a dark, forest road. Not unlike the one Daryl chased Beth and the Grady car down.

I think the records being broken represent Beth being shot. Because Beth = music. The records are broken and left behind in the road. (In fact, even them leaving the truck behind might have been indicative of this. The transmission broke and they left it behind, planning to come back for it later.)

Then they go to the bar. It actually looks a lot like the bar from the country club. Take a look:

And it gets better. Grace actually picks up a guitar and she Daniel sing together.

This is interesting for a lot of reasons.

1) Beth played a guitar in 5x09, right after Coda. And they did this right after the records were broken.

2) The fact that they sing together. I thought it was kind of funny that Daniel said, "what makes you think I can sing?" And then he and grace harmonize together beautifully. Yeah, Daniel can totally sing. Ruben Blades is actually a grammy award-winning musician, lol.

3) It’s in a BAR.

Then, suddenly, at the end, Grace got sick. She's been worried about getting sick from radiation poisoning and now it seems like it's happening.

Here's the thing, guys, I'm not sure I believe what they’re actually preparing us for here. My first thought when I saw she was sick was, "oh no! She's going to die. Poor Morgan." But I was surprised because I thought, after so long, that’s not where they would go with it. Grace feared she would die, but she has hope and I didn’t think she actually would. But, of course, now she's sick. So maybe they'll kill her off and that will suck for Morgan.

But…

What if they aren’t going this way at all? When Daniel talked to Grace in the bar, he said, "there's no way any of the records would have survived, right?"

I hoped that at the end of the episode, they would go back to look for the records and we would find that one of two of them survived. Because if they represent Beth being shot, and Daniel specifically says that there's no way she could've survived, then it follows that some of those records should have survived because Beth survived.

So I'm thinking at some point Daniel will probably return and find some of the records were broken, but others of them aren't. Probably the one he specifically wanted to get for Charlie survived and he'll go back and get it for her. But we didn’t see that in this episode.

This whole thing about Grace being sick has a lot of callbacks to things we’ve theorized in earlier seasons of TWD. There was the virus arc in 4a. While people died at the prison, none of the main characters did. Sasha and Glenn were both very sick, but neither of them actually died from the virus. Something similar could be the case with Grace here.

And then there's the fact that they paralleled her and Morgan very heavily with Beth and Daryl at the mall. If this is going to follow Beth and Daryl’s template, but on a smaller scale, then since he left to be with Al, and she's been traveling with Daniel, this represents their trial separation. Now she's very sick and she may come very close to dying, but I’m willing to bet she won't. I could be wrong about that. Maybe that's not where they're going with it, but I'm just a little bit suspicious about what they're showing is here, given previous symbolism and parallels.

More evidence this is a Beth analogy? I looked up the song Daniel and Grace sing together. It’s called End of the Line. It’s sung by the Traveling Wilburys, which was the group Daniel specifically wanted Charlie to hear. The singers include Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Tom Petty and (wait for it..) Roy Orbison.

He’s the same guy that sang the song Cry in The Cell, which was obviously about Beth and made Daryl, um, cry. They also featured one of his songs in S4 of TWD around Luciana. The fact that they’re using his music here again, and in a situation that’s so obviously a Beth analogy, is no coincidence.

Grace tells Morgan they were out of bar just past the 290 Junction. I won’t go into the details of why, but both 2x09, Triggerfinger, and episode 29, Home, have a lot of TD symbolism in them.

That's pretty much where we ended with Grace and Daniel.

Al and Morgan:

At the beginning, Morgan talked about his wife and Duane. He said some really interesting things. He said his wife hated the water. (Beth = water). While he talked about the wedding, he was changing a tire. I don't know if you guys remember this, but we've seen some major tire-coming-off-a-car symbolism tied up with Beth symbolism before.

Then he started talking about Duane, saying that he wanted a dog (serious/Dog Star symbolism) and played baseball. That jumped out at me because remember the baseball bats we saw around Beth? I think that's significant.

They meet a guy named Tom who was part of the place that Ginny's group is occupying. He’ hiding from them.

Tom has cuts on his forehead that look like Beth’s scars. This isn’t super compelling because they're smaller and are not scars, and on the opposite side, but they do look similar.

The caps for the gas cans are green and yellow (with red gas cans). And when one of them gets left out and Al has to retrieve it, trying not to be seen by the horsemen, the one that’s dropped is yellow. Having it dropped outside a car and her reaching for it feels like a Beth parallel to me.

It was very interesting to hear some of the things Tom had to say. He claimed Ginny’s group tried to kill him, saying it was his fault that things got so bad in the condo complex. He didn't know exactly what they wanted with his condo complex, but whatever it was, they didn't want him to know.

So obviously Ginny and her people are keeping secrets. You have to wonder why they kicked them out. What don’t they want him to see? Keep this in mind as we move forward, because I don't think we can trust anything that Ginny says to Morgan and Al the end of the episode.

When they film Tom, he's drinking water bottle, which are major Beth symbols. He said, "I got lucky.” He said that about three times. He also said that when things first went bad, they used the pool in the condo complex to filter water (water reference; plus, Isabel said filtering water was exactly what helicopter group is doing), and they used a rooftop garden to grow vegetables (sounds a lot like Grady to me). But then he said eventually things went bad.

This part was especially interesting to me. He said the water went bad, they couldn't grow food, the fences failed, and the roof started leaking. It was then that Ginny's group showed up to “help” and take charge of things.

The first thing I thought of when he said the water went bad was last season when Negan escaped and drank bad water and started throwing it up. This seems to be a major symbol, and given that the helicopter group is filtering water, I feel like they’re foreshadowing that at some point, there isn't going to be any water. Either it will go bad, or there will just be a drought. Also, remember I said this morning I THIS ASK that TF running out of water in Them might have been a foreshadow. I think that's very true and I need to go back and explore that more, but the point is, this is the dominant theme.

The fence failing is reminiscent of times that’s happened at the prison and also in Alexandria. The roof leaking could point to the Hole in the Roof symbolism.

He said Ginny’s people told him, it wasn't about today. It's about tomorrow. We actually haven't seen today/tomorrow symbolism in a while. It was very prevalent during AOW in S8. We kept noticing people in S8 about “tomorrow” during that. I think that could tie into this, especially as both Morgan and Dwight, who were involved in AOW, are now in Fear.

Tom tells them that he got away and the people are looking for him, but he was forced to leave his sister, Janis behind. He wants to go back and get her because he's afraid Ginny's group will kill her. Morgan and Al decide to help him.

It's obvious Al wants to go into the complex to see if Isabel is there. Eventually Morgan gets her to admit this, and they sneak in to search for Isabel and Tom’s sister, Janis.

I noticed an infinity sign above the Paradise Ridge sign.

When Al and Morgan sneaked into the condo complex, Morgan stood next to a horse. It looked to be a brown horse, rather than black or white, but even so, if the horse represents him finding Beth alive, I think this is a significant symbol.

You could also look at it as a confirmation by itself. Maybe they focused on this here because it was trying to tell us that this group is what the horse he found in 6x16 symbolized. And the interesting thing about that is that he also found the sign that said, “you are still alive.” We’ve always thought that foreshadowed him finding Beth. So, maybe a hint that this group will lead to her.

There was also a blue cord that ran into the pool. I'm sure that probably has to do with the water purification. Being blue, it fits in well with @frangipanilove’s blue cooler theories.

Al films a board that has a list of their supplies on it. I'll just leave these pictures here and let you look at it. There's lots of things we seen before like tomatoes, baby food, peanut butter, etc.

She also saw a map with keys that showed were some of the settlements were.

Morgan goes into Janis's apartment (I'm assuming Tom told him where to go). All he finds is a dead guy in the close who’s turned into a walker. I didn’t know what to make of that until Morgan said Janis had taken care of the man who came after her.

They’re saying that after Tom left his sister behind in the condominium complex, Ginny’s people did try to kill her. She's obviously enough of a badass to have taken care of herself. She killed the guy who came after her and put them in the closet. Subsequently, he turned into a walker. She was nowhere to be found. Ginny later said that Janis must've run off after Tom did.

So, we now have another missing character: Janis. We’re missing Sherry, Beth, Isabel, Heath, Rick, and now Janis.

@wdway pointed out something super obvious that I totally didn’t connect. Remember last week, they saved the girl at the gas station? She almost died but Wes saved the day at the last minute? Well, we never got her name, but I think there’s a good chance that is Janis. Just too much of a coincidence not to tie into this story line.

One other thing I wanted to point out about this situation. There was some weird camera angles, as though someone was watching Morgan in the room. I don’t think they were, but the way the camera almost seemed to be looking through the curtains at him reminded me of certain similar angles in The Red Machete.

Then there was the walker that came out of the closet when he opened the door. It reminded me, visually, of the walker that came through the door of the pet shop in 6x03 when Michonne opened it. It was kind of an identical situation. In both cases, they heard the walker banging on the side of the door, opened it, the walker came through, and they fought/killed them. In 6x03, Michonne ripped down a dog poster to let the walker out, so I’ve always seen that as a Beth/Sirius reference. The dog thing wasn’t present here with Morgan, but given all the other parallels in this episode, I feel like we should be associating the two. Not entirely sure what it means, but just wanted to point out the parallels.

Al fell into the pool when the walker attacked her. Morgan jumped in to help. I'm not really sure what to make of this part. The fact that there was water involved in a massive way jumps out at me as important, but I'm just not sure how to interpret yet.

They killed the walker and came to the surface to find Ginny and her people surrounding them.

They were taken indoors, and Ginny tries to convince them she’s super kind and forward thinking and “an open book.”

When and Morgan are sitting on the couch, was a pink blanket behind them. Pink theory.

Also, Ginny offers them strawberry and apricot jam. Obviously, strawberries are Beth symbol. Apricot exactly the same as peaches but they're very similar. Also notice that Ginny eats it exactly like Daryl did in Alone, with her fingers.

Another food analogy Ginny has is when she says, "spaghetti ain’t simple. It's usually messy." I’ve probably said this before, but I think spaghetti represents civilization. People living in a positive and civilized manner. That's why Herschel mentioned it during virus. It was his way of having hope for them making it through virus and going back to some semblance of normalcy.

Daryl ate it with Aaron and Eric because he was “trying” to be civil. Ginny's point here is that re-creating society is not going to be easy and it's probably going to be messy. Which is probably code for, she's killing people and doing all sorts of immoral things.

When Al asks about helicopters, Ginny laughs at her. She says that before taking the oil fields, they didn't have any gas. (I notice she doesn’t actually say “no,” however. Just implies it.)

To Al and Morgan’s surprise, she says she will let them go. She returns their stuff and walks them to the entrance and even lets Al keep her film.

They also fix Morgan’s stick for him, which I thought was pretty cool. In a way, that might've been an analogy for Morgan finally being able to move on with Grace. He broke his stick and up till now he's been running from his feelings for her and holding onto the past. His stick is whole again, and he finally decides he doesn't need to do that anymore and contacts Grace.

So Ginny reacts in a way that’s the opposite of what they expected, and it seems to be that she's not part of the helicopter group.

Let's go back to what I said at beginning. Tom said they tried to kill him and that whatever they wanted with his condo complex, they wouldn't tell him what it was. They didn't want him to see it. Notice the Ginny didn't say anything about this or why they were looking for Tom after he ran off. If she's totally cool with people coming and going and her doors are open to Morgan's group all the time, as she claims, then why would her guys have been chasing Tom when he ran off? Why would there be a dead walker in the closet at Janis's place?

Also recall that Tom said when Ginny’s group showed up, they offered to purify the condo’s water for them. That’s EXACTLY what Isabel said her helicopter group was doing. No way that’s a coincidence.

So I don’t think we can trust anything Ginny says here. I think she's lying through her teeth, which means they may have helicopters. There must be some reason she's letting Al and Morgan go. Maybe she's hoping they’ll lead her back to their convoy so that she can attack them or something. I don't know. I also think it’s possible that at the beginning, the guys on horseback DID see Al and Morgan in the van (even though it seemed like they didn’t) and reported back to Ginny. It just felt an awful lot like she was waiting for them to me.

We'll just have to wait and see what comes of this, but I definitely don't trust what Ginny is saying and doing. It's all too easy and she has a sinister air about her.

Near the end, Al and Morgan take Tom with them and head back toward the convoy. Morgan comes to realize that, where he accused Ginny of living in the past and holding onto the past, he was doing the same thing by avoiding Grace. He decides he doesn't need to run away from her anymore and radios her. That's when he finds out she’s sick from Daniel.

I really hope Grace survives for Morgan sake. It would be nice for him to have a love interest.

At this part, Al wears a red, blue, and green shirt. I just thought the colors were interesting.

Opening Credits Details:

The opening credits sequence was kind of interesting. First of all, it was at night and you could see the stars in the sky. (Sirius/North Star). The words saying “Fear the Walking Dead” were black instead of white. I think that could point to a couple of things. It could be black to show that Grace's radiation sickness is taking hold. I know sometimes when they test for radiation, they have little strips the turn black if radiation is present. I also wonder if the metaphor extends to the fact that they’ve come into contact with Ginny, and some things being set into motion here are going to end very badly.

Finally, I couldn’t tell what was on the ground in the opening credits shot. It looked like little papers torn up on the ground. Actually, it’s the broken records. So obviously that was an important symbol for this episode. And, what do they represent? Beth.

That's about all I have for today. Definitely an interesting episode. I'm excited to see where it goes from here. What did everyone else think?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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flamehairedsiren · 5 years

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Writer’s Interview

@pikapeppa Idk where you find all these people, but you’re the real MVP lol

Tagging @ir-anuk @valaloy @mrscullensrutherford

Q: What is your coffee order?

I drink coffee only once in a blue moon because otherwise it makes me sick (I have IBS-D) but ask me if I want tea and I will say yes.

Q: What is the coolest thing you’ve ever done?

I’ve never been outside the country (not even to Alaska or Hawaii, and not even to Canada even though I was once living literally a 90 minute drive from the border) but I went to Colonial Williamsburg a few years ago with one of my best friends and my sister. It’s Disneyland for historians. I’m dying to go back.

Q: Who has been your biggest mentor?

I never really had one? I just happened to be good in English class. I got into writing over time, first in roleplay and I finally got convinced to write fanfic by a couple friends last year.

Q: What has been your most memorable writing project?

Funnily enough, my first one. I’m shocked by how much people love The Sun and Moon (even by non-Alvad shippers, might I add) and I’m already working on a sequel. I was thinking on it anyway, but a lot of my readers are jumping on the idea, so now I have to do it. lol I have other projects in the works, of course, but this one has really blown me away.

Q: What does your writing path look like, from the earliest days until now?

I was a dorky kid who liked music, so I very briefly tried my hand at songwriting (it didn’t go over well). My schools had a number of writing projects, and I discovered fan fiction about ten years ago. I actually didn’t start any fanfic writing until December 2017 with me posting my first chapter of TSAM a few months later. Needless to say, I’m hooked. I’ve got Solavellan nonsense in the works. mwahaha

Q: What is your favourite part about writing?

Creating my own realities, especially if I’m unsatisfied with something I’m in a fandom of. Again, The Sun and Moon. lol

Q: What does a typical day look like for you?

I’m disabled and only just now setting my sights on college, so I have a lot of spare time right now. I game, I watch movies/TV, and I let those influence the stories I’m writing. TSAM is influenced heavily by many period dramas and Bollywood films, and of course with Dragon Age fics I’m watching some fantasy stuff (Lord of the Rings for my Lavellan, especially).

Q: What does your writing process look like?

Lots of daydreaming in the shower (I’m a visual person, so I have to see the scenes play out in my head), watching films/TV that influence the work as a whole, and then I just go for it. I try to write about 8-10 pages’ worth per chapter on my fanfics, so sometimes I struggle to fill the pages, which means every once in a while an obligatory smut scene comes into play. :P

Q: What’s the best advice you’ve gotten?

Take a break. No, seriously. Sometimes you’re tired and stretched thin with a horrendous writer’s block. There’s no need to force it. Instead, take a few days off, or even a week. Play a video game. Exercise. Spend time with friends or family. It’ll all come back to you once you’ve been refreshed. Trust me on that.

Q: What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned?

Don’t let your readers bully you. Trust me, it happens. Sometimes they pester you or demand something from you even though you’re already giving them all so much. They need to understand that writers are human too. We need breaks, we need support, we need to write what we want to write because otherwise it won’t be half as good. Just let us be, guys, and you’ll be rewarded with even better content.

Q: What advice would you give someone who wants to start writing?

Just go for it. Even if you don’t feel ready to post anything online or publish right away (like me), just go for it. Plot out your story, create your characters, build your world, and then start writing. Always keep your eyes pealed for writing advice and spelling/grammar advice because trust me, even the most grammatically correct writers need it too. Even lifelong writers are still learning, so don’t be afraid to ask questions.

Just go for it.

#fanfic stuff #writing #meme #personal

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reactingwithexo · 7 years

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exo as boyfriends (ot9)

luna208: Hey i was wondering if u could please do what dating exo would be like but like in bullet points for each member? 😊🤗

Xiumin:

♦ supportive all the way

♦ likes to go on simple yet intimate dates

♦ not the best at texting but will try

♦ probably likes more to talk via skype or something

♦ soft car duets

♦ needs some alone time sometimes

♦ lots of smiles

♦ casual

♦ great at hugging and sorts

♦ always smells good

♦ organizes stuff in your house

♦ whispers while caressing your hair

♦ knows how to pleasure you *wink*

♦ lets out a chuckle everytime he sees you happy and excited

♦ doesn’t understand when you just insanely wants to suddenly cuddle (because he’s too cute)

♦ mindblowing just out of this world kissing

Suho:

♦ #ideal

♦ randomly texts you jokes he just thought of and the boys’ reactions

♦ you’re judged by all EXO members

♦ tends to remember the important dates

♦ fancy

♦ the type to start the kissing with little smiles and suddenly get really into it

♦ wants to travel with you

♦ random at a daily basis

♦ sometimes you two just sit down and he opens up about all the pression and stress he is into

♦ gets really upset when arguing

♦ has a bunch of little habits

♦ always grabs your hand

♦ makes you laugh

♦ eye smile

Yixing:

♦ we all know he’s a butt guy so yea

♦ expect lots of idk butt action after you’re close (lol wat)

♦ skypes you and eventually falls asleep hearing your voice

♦ you’re constantly mad at him for overworking

♦ he’s constantly warming your heart with compliments

♦ sweet mumbles

♦ gentleman

♦ those hips tho

♦ knows what you’re thinking while watching him dance

♦ takes advantage of that hehe

♦ listens to everything you say

♦ is always in touch

♦ shows you a piece he’s been working on

♦ always sending you cute selfies

♦ really REALLY good kisser

♦ wants you to have everything of the best

Baekhyun:

♦ never shuts up

♦ obligatory duets

♦ inside jokes af

♦ you’ll have to remind him of that date you two had scheduled but he’s an hour late because he’s playing games

♦ uses those fingers right if you know what i mean

♦ likes to just go somewhere not that crowded to feel ordinary with you

♦ plays with your hair

♦ is always caressing some part of your body

♦ smirks playfully

♦ full of sweet moments

♦ appreciates when you take care of him

♦ impressions while you two are watching something

♦ you slowly discover every layer he has

♦ cutest smile

Chen:

♦ you two do charity together

♦ picks up sexual vibes fast

♦ screams lots

♦ whines lots

♦ laughs lots

♦ knows how to persuade you

♦ manages to take a lot of his time for you

♦ is interested in your opinions

♦ also car duets

♦ netflix and chill

♦ kisses everywhere

♦ isn’t that cheesy

♦ lowkey spontanious

Chanyeol:

♦ shows off his many skills

♦ is lowkey insecure of your feelings

♦ is always thinking of you

♦ ‘i wrote you a song’

♦ always tries to make you happy

♦ gets mad easily if he’s tired

♦ will only open up after a while in the relationship

♦ constantly buys you stuff overseas because it reminded him of you

♦ that damn deep voice

♦ takes your breath away

♦ always jamming to something

♦ can go in the slow pecks direction OR

♦ the super intense makeout session type of vibe

♦ feels lucky he has you

♦ giggles after doing something cute

Kyungsoo:

♦ appreciates pretty much everything you say

♦ smiles to himself when he remembers some moment with you

♦ expect lots of movie nights

♦ kisses on the cheek

♦ you calling him cute and squishy

♦ doesn’t get mad that often

♦ tries to cook for you

♦ can spend hours kinda just kissing but it’s so good

♦ feels weird when you ask him to sing for you

♦ but sings without noticing

♦ loves to watch/hear you excited about something

♦ eyes sparkling

♦ ULTIMATE SASSY GENTLEMAN

Jongin:

♦ this fucker

♦ shy at first

♦ most handsome smile ever actually makes your soul leave your body and you get addicted

♦ pouts

♦ always showing you new music

♦ wants you to meet his children aka puppies

♦ prob gives you for christmas and you think aw how cute but it’s actually just an excuse for him to have another one and he used you as a disguise for getting another puppy

♦ sometimes he doesn’t pick up his phone for like 12 hours because he’s playing games

♦ you’re always reminding him to have a limit when practising

♦ skype/facetime calls really late at night

♦ sleeping together (as in literally sleeping)

♦ cuddles

♦ messy hair

♦ always lowkey horny

♦ neck kisses

♦ also long kisses

♦ teases 24/7

♦ random in depth talks

Sehun:

♦ sweet sassiness

♦ prepare for confidence overload

♦ shy and smol bean when you’re out with your friends and there are guys too

♦ gets small random gifts for you all the time

♦ “here i got you these socks. Didn't you say your feet are always cold”

♦ pulls out some weird ass cute socks smh gets really shy but also fucking proud when you wear the stuff he got you even accessories

♦ Vivi listens to you more than to him sorry mr. Oh

♦ Isn’t really into pda but def will hold your hand outside or again use you as a arm/ body rest of you are like waiting in to buy bubble tea

♦ he will def make you go on many bubble tea dates

♦ bc he “started the trend”

♦ when you feel down or seem to have had a bad day he go grabs your fav taste for you to drink bc it normally makes him happy so he thinks it makes you happy too but he isnt sure and he is just trying to be a good boyfriend

♦ If you are in a cuddle mood he will make it as if its obvious bc who can resist oh sehun and he will tease you so long until you slap his arm and tell him to just come cuddle and he will let

♦ bc a) you just stopped listening and clinged onto him and

♦ b) you clinging onto him makes him go so mushy he is like DAMN RIGHT SHE WANTS ME

♦ afternoons with legs entagled and each on their phone

A/N: aH THAT WAS SO MUCH FUN, I actually love making these bulletpoints post stuff, I know it’s been such a long time but I was taking a break from tumblr, hope you guys like this <3

Shotout to @damned-fangirl for the noodle insight, love ya

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imnoexpertblog · 5 years

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Don't Stress, You're Blessed

This is the Health & Beauty Blog! I’m going to switch this up and gear it towards health this time; mental health at that. I have had a really hard two weeks, and it seems to keep dragging on. I’ve mentioned how hard it is to sleep lately, in the heat and light and noise. So to put you in my shoes, cut the amount of sleep you want to get in half these past couple weeks. The heat also makes it hard for me to eat. It’s hard to be happy when I don’t feel well, either. Now add being nauseous or having a headache from lack of sleep and food. Next, pretend it’s also shark week (what I nicknamed my period, its funny). Hormones are a-raging. Lastly, add anything that may stress you out, big or small. You’re now turned me into someone you really aren't. Someone you don’t even like. You're not you anymore. And it sucks.

I’m weird in the way that I can handle big problems/stressors very well. I can hold myself together (and everyone else, too). I can carry a great deal on my shoulders when I have to. The weird part is that I fall apart over the small things instead. Those are the things that push me over the edge. I can’t afford to fall apart during the big stuff, so sometimes I crumble with what most people would consider small or minor things. This is pretty hard on the people around me and I need to manage my reactions better.

First thing (for me) to stress less and be happier AND healthier; SLEEP MORE. I know getting enough sleep is very important. I know it. I used to sleep NO LESS than 8 hours a night. No matter what. It was a huge priority of mine. Sleep is still important to me and I still try to sleep as much as I can. But. Sleeping during the day is different. Besides the heat, noise, and light, things are happening during the day. Let’s walk you through something pretty common for me. Can’t get an appointment with the dentist until 10 am? Well it looks like I will have to attempt (and fail) at a short nap when I get home at 7:15 am. I do have to get up at 9:00 am anyway so maybe I won’t even sleep until after the appointment. Get home from appointment at 11:30am. Well, I will hopefully get 5 hours of sleep before Baby and Nugget get home this evening. Unfortunately, I can’t sleep through much anymore. So many things can wake me up very easily. At this point, I have awaken at 1:30, 2:45, and now 3:45. I’ve probably gotten about 3 and a half hours of sleep. I can’t fall back asleep. Guess I am up for good. My boys will be home in an hour or so, anyway. Maybe I will get a few more hours of sleep in before work at 11:00 pm. Maybe not. That is something I have to deal with all the time. Even if I don't have an appointment, I am woken up by the landlords cutting the grass or weed-eating, the neighbors hanging decorations up on the walls, sirens from police and ambulances on the nearby highway, etc. Falling back asleep can be really difficult after/during these instances. It feels like I can't catch a break.

Then for food. If I can’t fuel my body adequately, how can I expect to feel healthy? Trust me. I am well aware of this. The issue is if I am hot and sweaty and uncomfortable, there is no way I will be eating anything. I’d gag on it if I tried. Honestly, need to get back into meal replacement shakes because I have no problem drinking my calories/meals. I also just need to pound water as much as I can. I've mentioned the Keto diet is low-carb, which makes it harder for me to retain water. I have hormonal migraines (meaning as long as I have shark week, I will get migraines), but I am sure that water would help out a lot in general.

Now for the outside stress. Tackling this is a big project. Sleep and diet can only do so much for you. So. First things first. We need to pinpoint what is stressing us out. You can’t fix something without knowing what is causing the issue. My stressors are adult things that I cannot really escape. Saving for a house and wedding is hard. Not knowing how much longer I can work third shift is hard. I more or less just need to stop worrying about money, continue to save, and look into first shift positions. I tend to get worked up about the unknown very easily. That’s my anxiety. At least I know and recognize this. What is stressing you out? Money? School? Work? Explore your emotions and why you feel the way you do. It always points to something. Some say writing about your stress helps. Journaling what is stressing you out, how you feel about it physically and emotionally, how you are reacting/responding to it, and how you relieve that stress. Things like this are helpful to refer back to, especially when trying to stop a cycle or pattern. Or if you are trying to instill better habits.

Now that we hopefully know what is stressing us out, we can try to avoid those things. Personally, I need to notice when I am overthinking and put an end to it. That’s a big issue in my life. Something may not be a big deal, but I can’t stop thinking about it over and over and over (anxiety) until it’s become a huge problem in my mind. A problem so big that I work myself into a panic or rage. Something else that seems to really weighs on me is what my family thinks of me and what I am doing with my life. I mentioned in my first blog post, Let Me Explain… and About Me that my parents have put a lot of pressure on me to succeed ever since I was pretty young. I've taken over the role for them since having moved out four years ago. I know they think highly of me, are proud of me, and expect nothing less than excellence. I now do the same to myself. The feeling of letting them down or disappointing them absolutely terrifies me. I need to learn to let go a little bit. I know they love me and that they are fully aware that I do my best when it comes to anything. Easier said than done, but these feelings I get are unnecessary. They may be warranted, but that doesn’t mean they are obligatory. Its not like anyone in my family makes me feel inadequate; I really do this to myself out of fear. My desire to make them proud is very driving (and driving me nuts LOL). Are there things in your life you can cut to avoid any extra stress? Do you need a new job schedule? New job in general? Are there certain people that you shouldn’t have in your life? Are there things you have been putting off that need to get done?

If there are things you absolutely can’t stay away from, you can try to change the situation. There are things you can control. I knew I was behind on sleep this week so I took a day off to catch up. You can also change the way you handle a situation to make it less stressful. My personal example it that I can’t avoid the fact that we need to save money so I made changes in my budget to make it easier. Compromise isn’t always fun but it is a must. It would be very difficult to save money if I shopped every Friday or went out to eat a few times a week, but I cut those things out of my budget.

As much as I don’t use this tactic in the moment, I really think it’s great. Think about the cause/issue of your stress. Will this even matter in 5 hours? Will it matter tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Next year?! Most of the time; HELL no. Then why does it matter now? It doesn’t. Don’t let your emotions run you or control how you react. It is so easy to be bothered sometimes; to worry. But isn’t life so much better when you’re happy? I really have to remember this one for the future. Also ask yourself if you’re being realistic in your expectations of something. I cannot expect everything to always go according to plan, no matter how badly I wish it would. I get very bent out of shape when routines are hindered. I crave structure and consistency. The minute something has to change unexpectedly, I immediately get anxious. Realistically, that is normal. I cannot control everything. I just need to remind myself of this.

Something that helps: TALKING. I encourage you all to talk about this stuff. With whoever you want. Family, friends, spouses, a professional, anyone. Sometimes I think I talk too much, vent too much, complain too much, but it’s actually how I work through these things. It’s also sometimes how I realize I am being ridiculous. It helps you discover things like why you feel a certain way, what might help, etc. When the issue is out of your hands and you can’t do anything about it, talking can still be therapeutic and helpful. You can also use the typical advice of relieving stress through physical activity. SO many people go to the gym. Take a break and do something new or fun?

The last thing I want to touch on is something I really struggle with in these stressful moments; being positive and forgiving. Rather than focus on what went wrong, I need to remember what is right. There are silver linings, and those are the things to pay attention to. Things happen that aren’t anyone’s fault. There just isn’t anyone/anything to blame sometimes and that is okay. Even if there is someone to blame, letting go is better than holding it against them. Turning energy into hate and resentment is a waste. You should use your energy towards being happy.

Baby is always there to take my venting, my frustrating, my monster. Whether he deserves it or not. He is so patient and understanding. Although I appreciate it, that can only last so long. There are only so many apologies I can give before they don't mean anything. I don’t want to be the monster I am when I am overwhelmed. I don’t want him to have to ever feel like he’s “putting up” with me. He is there for me to lean on, not use as a punching bag. He knows why I get like this sometimes but that isn’t an excuse to be that way. I need to practice what I’ve just preached and harness this energy I have in being frustrated and difficult, and redirect it to being the happy person I know I am. I have too good a life to be unhappy.

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collecting-stories · 7 years

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Seventeen - c. 01 - Michael Gray

Request: @emislayyyy74 Can I do a request for Michael from Peaky Blinders? I absolute adore Finn Cole. Maybe one about being friends and then getting together? Or whatever you want lol.

Hackney Empire Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

When you were 17 your best friend Henry left home. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going and any reason for his departure was kept secret from you. His mother didn’t want to talk about his leaving. You heard rumours about a birth mum and family that lived in a slum somewhere in Birmingham but nothing else. You didn’t know whether to believe the rumours or not. Surely, you had thought, Henry would have told you if he had a birth mother that wasn’t the mum you knew him to have.

Maybe you didn’t know Henry the way you thought you did. Maybe the two of you weren't the great friends you once considered yourselves to be. You'd always talked to him about leaving the country, about wanting to see London, and he'd always promised that the two of you would leave together. But then one morning he was gone and you were still in the same old country town you hated so much.

It was three weeks later, almost to the day, that you met Charles Sabini at your sister's wedding. He was a friend on the groom's side and he was from London. A business man was what your father called him. You flirted openly, aware he had a wedding ring on but also aware that his wife was not in attendance.

"You should come visit." Was his response when you asked him what London was like. You lit his cigar for him.

"I wouldn’t have anywhere to stay."

Charles, who insisted you call him Derby, put you up in a penthouse in London. It was the size of your house in the country and had all the latest fixtures. All he asked in return was that he have free access to you and the penthouse whenever need be.

So just like Henry you left home with no word to anyone. Your mother was embarrassed to tell anyone where you'd gone and rumours had already started around town that you were pregnant. You weren't, of course. People had seen you sitting on Derby Sabini's lap at the reception though, and those people liked to talk. For the most part Sabini was good to you. He gave you a roof over your head, a part time job at a Music Hall he owned, and plenty of privacy. Most of the time you were just there for show. A pretty face he kept around to accompany him to clubs.

In the beginning, when you first arrived in London, you thought about Henry all the time. You wondered how he was, where he was. Everything seemed to remind you of your best friend. But your life moved forward without him and you eventually stopped thinking about him at all. Three years of the same arrangement passed and you grew accustomed to Derby. He came over more and more, occupying your space constantly in an attempt to escape his home life. His wife was having another baby and he complained regularly about the woman and her offspring. He complained about other things too. Late at night he would lay in bed and tell you things about his business. Legality meant nothing to him, once he had polished off a bottle of whiskey at the end of the night he would tell you anything you asked . "Baby," and he whined constantly. "Baby are you listening to me?"

"I'm certainly trying not to." You called back. He was laying across the bed eating breakfast and reading the newspaper.

"Baby!" He whined again.

"Yes Derby?" You asked, exhausted. He was a fair amount older than you but the relation was built on the sole understanding that he provided you a nice life and you provided him a bed whenever he was in the mood.

"Wear the green dress yah? I think the green would look nice for tonight." He answered.

"Alright." You called back.

Parties were always on Friday nights. The special sort of parties that lasted all night long. Derby liked to get drunk at these parties and watch you dance with boys. You were sure he just liked a reason to beat someone up. Or, have his men beat someone up. Lord knows Charles Sabini never got his hands dirty.

You sat down on his lap, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. You were almost certain you didn't love him but you'd been in this life for so long that it was comfortable now. He’d keep you until you weren't pretty anymore and you’d been saving for just such a day since the moment you moved into his penthouse. He offered you a puff of the cigar and you declined, keeping yourself ladylike. There was a certain expectation that you upheld when you were with him.

“Why won't you tell me where we’re going Derby? At least a hint?” You flirted, kissing his cheeks. You ran your hand through his hair and tugged a little.

“Here,” he ignored your question and instead reached inside his jacket, pulling out a small box. “Wear these earrings with your dress tonight.”

You kissed him, an obligatory thank you for any present he felt like giving you. The earrings were diamond and you would likely sell them in the coming weeks, once he bought you a new pair and forgot these. For now you kissed him as lovingly as you could muster.

His men always walked ahead of him into any club and you were always on his arm. Nothing about that routine changed. You wondered sometimes if his wife ever used to come out with him. You knew she lived down in Brighton now with their children and he only saw them sporadically. You admired his want to keep them safe. You were not nearly as important to him as his family and that was clear by the way he pushed you to walk in front of him into the empty club tonight.

“No ones here Derby.” You whispered, looking back at him.

“We’re doing business baby, no parties tonight.” Sabini replied.

You walked the rest of the way into the room. All the chairs were up on tables except one in the middle. Two men sat there already with three more standing behind them should anything go wrong. Sabini’s men took their posts at the exit, leaving you to walk the rest of the way unguarded. You nearly lost your footing when you saw the men at the table. More so when you saw Henry sat at the table, cigarette in his mouth. You didn't look at him, instead focusing on a fixture passed him.

“Get us drinks baby,” Sabini kissed your cheek.

You hurried to the bar, eager to get away from the table. It had been three years since you'd last seen Henry. To anyone else they'd think he looked different, they'd say the city had changed him. But you knew how he was and to you he looked exactly the same. You wondered if the man beside him was the supposed family that he had left in search of.

The conversation lulled when you came over, laying a bottle of whiskey and three glasses on the table. There was a brief moment when Henry looked up and you locked eyes. It was only a second though and you returned to Sabini’s side immediately. The conversation began again, the older man that Henry was with deciding that you weren't important either.

You excused yourself part way through the night to have a cigarette outside. You had spent almost the entire meeting stealing glances at Henry, you just needed some fresh air. You went around the side of the building to avoid the watchful gaze of Sabini’s thugs.

“Spare a light?”

You looked over to see Henry standing in the alleyway. “Henry.”

“It's actually Michael now.” He corrected. He held an unlit cigarette out for you.

“Michael…” you looked at him for a moment, trying to decide if he looked like a Michael to you. “We can't be talking.”

“Why? Cause of Sabini? How'd you get mixed up with someone like that?” Michael asked.

“Listen,” you stubbed your cigarette out on the wall of the building, “we can't talk here. Derby’s got men right outside, if he thinks I’m saying anything he’ll kill me.”

“Derby?” He questioned your use of Sabini’s nickname, “what happened to you?”

“I have to go.” You pushed passed Michael.

Sabini was just coming out of the club when you came around the side of the alley. He extended his arm for you to take and led you to the car. You made a show of kissing him, knowing that Michael was watching.

Michael waited until the car had pulled away to come around from the alley. Tommy was waiting outside the club for him. No words were spoken between the cousins as they walked the short distance to their own car. Michael knew Tommy would want an explanation of the girl with Sabini. He just wasn't sure if Tommy expected him to be forthcoming with the information or if he would ask.

The silence continued all through the next day as they travelled home. It wasn't until they were in Tommy’s house that any questioning began. The main question came out much worse than Tommy intended when he finally asked it.

“How'd you know Sabini’s whore?”

“She’s not a whore!” Michael snapped.

Tommy rolled his eyes. His cousin had a tendency of getting in over his head. “Alright how'd you know the not-whore of Sabini’s?”

“We grew up by each other, used to be friends.” Michael answered.

“So she trusts you?” Tommy asked.

“Why?”

“Get some information from her, I want to know Sabini’s next move.” Tommy replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And save the speech about your morals for Polly.”

Tommy left the room and Michael slammed his fist on the desk in frustration. He should've never gone outside to talk to you. Since he’d left home he’d been trying to prove himself to Tommy, now it was just a matter of choosing who was more important to him. You or his cousin.

So I totally got carried away with this. This is part one and I realize it’s a lot of backstory but it’ll get good! Promise!

#peaky blinders imagine #michael shelby imagine #michael gray imagine #collecting stories imagine

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qohesive-blog · 7 years

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so we’ve got some catching up to do - obligatory college reflection // 170712

Not. Letting. This. One. Slide.

Yes, I am aware that it’s been almost exactly a year since my last post here, and I’ve got no one but myself to blame. It’s not because omg, college kept me so busy (it was), it’s not because I deleted tumblr from my phone (because I can still go on desktop), it’s not because I was so happy and satisfied with my life that I don’t need a creative outlet anymore (couldn’t be further from the truth; if anything, I need to write now more than ever); in fact, I’ve probably lost count of how many times I lied cozy in my bed, no plans on a Friday night, thinking to myself hm it’s literally been 6 months since I’ve written something even though I made a huge deal about writing consistently. oh well, can’t be bothered and then gone to watch yet another episode of Jane the Virgin. Unlike most things in my life, I won’t spend time here trying to overanalyze the specific reasons why it’s so dang hard for me to commit to writing, if there are any subconscious fears or personality traits that drive this. All I can say is that I’m exceedingly thankful for the people who God have gifted with the power of words that inspire one to move, and that I am a lazy ‘lil pooper, and that I will continue to fight the good fight. Moving on, let’s get straight into business:

Obligatory First Year College Reflection

So school officially ended over two months ago, and needless to say, I’ve been given plenty of time to reflect on my first two semesters of college. Gosh, where do I start….

The Good

I’ve had the opportunity to meet a handful of kind, genuine people who made my day brighter whenever I saw them, as well as a handful of hilarious people who make me laugh, understand my humor, make me feel comfortable, and who I just generally “click” with. And it’s been really hard for me to find those sort of people in college.

(Angela, Claire, Tracy: in a place where I felt like I had to constantly put on at least some kind of act, you guys let me feel like myself. Thank you.)

HSM!! Composed primarily out of all the freshman people who met at AAIV. I’m thankful I was able to connect with a good group of Asian Christians who I know can support me and who I can support as well. I love you guys!

The opportunity to get closer to Hannah and Jon! I first met Hannah at winter retreat like 4 years back, but we haven’t really talked until we were paired for STM last summer. Being able to see her every week and grabbing the occasional meal together has honestly been such a blessing this year. She’s a brilliant, hilarious, beautiful sister in Christ and I’m really really thankful she’s here at OSU. For Jon, we got closer senior year of high school, but this year we were able to actually hang out more since he’s more involved in the asian community. He’s probably the guy friend that I have the most fun with just because whenever we’re around each other we both get super goofy and it’s just a nice, refreshing breath of air from all the other stress in my life when I’m able to be around someone who I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. Through both Jon and Hannah, I’ve been able to have some pretty meaningful conversations about faith that made me reflect about my life when I otherwise would have just went with the flow of school and work.

A satisfactory relationship with my roommate. Natalie and I…..we’re not best friends, but we also don’t hate each other’s guts like most roommate horror stories I hear about. Sure, it was awkward at first because we didn’t really talk that much outside of typical pleasantries, but after a while I started to realize that it was simply her personality: Natalie is, like me at the core, introverted, a minimalist but efficient conversationalist, and one who doesn’t usually initiate conversation. And although it’s a bummer that I’m not coming out of my first year of college, locked arm-in-arm with my newfound soulmate and a binding roommate for the next three years, I appreciated the pocket of peace and quiet that Natalie offered me whenever I came back to the room, exhausted from networking events and club meetings and talking to people I didn’t want to talk to, to some much appreciated solace. Nevertheless, throughout our time together I was slowly able to see some of Natalie’s hidden quirks that she conceals underneath a seemingly stoic exterior; she spends her Friday nights baking cookies for us, she refers to herself as a “free bird”, she blasts country music in the shower and sings along with it when she doesn’t know that I came home early.

Expanding my circle of people I usually interact with. All throughout high school, I’ve mainly just kept to my comfortable Asian community. Not that there was ever anything wrong with that, and not that I’ve completely changed from that, but I just wanted to put myself in situations in which I wasn’t used to, just because I think it’s important for me to do so since I literally can’t socialize with non asians lol.

(Jon, Natalie, Alex, Jess, Erin, Truman, Tyeal, Gitu, Emma, Shiyuan, Ros, Joling, Dillon, Johann: you guys really didn’t have to keep talking to me. I know I’m super awkward, weird, and just generally not the typical person you’d hang out with, but you guys tolerated me at the least and made your way into my life at the most. Thank you for talking about your favorite books with me, and letting me show you my favorite youtube videos. Thank you for acting disappointed when I said I was going to go up to my room at because my shift ended an hour ago and I wanna sleep, dangit, and then being genuinely excited to see me reluctantly agree to stay a little longer. Thank you for showing me your collection of sketches when I showed you my own, and then drawing your own sketch of me for me to keep. Thank you for stopping at my room, knocking frantically at my door at 2am to freak out over relationship drama, and even though I may have answered the door all grumpy, mouth set in a scowl because I had an 8am the next morning, secretly I was relieved that I had been able to reach that level of closeness with a new friend.)

Really good grades!!!! Like, realllyyyy good, like I got all A’s!!!!!!! I’m actually pretty excited about this one, since in high school each semester was usually tainted by one bad grade. To be fair, first year business students don’t exactly have the most difficult of schedules, but I’m gonna choose optimism over cynicism this time and take the opportunity to feel proud of myself. I maintained a pretty good work ethic throughout the two semesters, and the best part of it? I think I’m falling in love with learning again. Seriously, I’m excited to learn. High school was different; in high school, I got the A not because I learned the material well, but because all I had in mind were collegescollegescolleges. Now that pressure is off- I’m at a mediocre state school with a lot less competition and a lot less toxicity, and that’s really given me the chance to reexamine my relationship with education and place it under a whole new light. It helps that most of my professors were pretty amazing (Writing for Engineers and Anthropology professors come to mind) and the courses I choose got me absolutely PUMPED to get to class (Chinese Film, Korean). Of course, perhaps I’m speaking too early and I’ll actually find myself hating school once again when I’m drowning under accounting and statistics next year, but I’ll enjoy the feeling while it lasts…..

Tried new things. This year, I joined a J2K group that was doing Seventeen’s Aju nice. The last time I performed dance was in 3rd grade during my fleeting one year relationship with ballet. I’m not a horrible dancer by any means, but I’m also far from the best; in fact, I’d probably place myself slightly below average. Nevertheless, I’m pretty proud that I was able to try out this new experience, and all the hours we put in each week practicing never felt like work; it was always a fun time dancing with the other people on my team and learning how to make our moves look better. Spring semester, I also joined a fraternity. Phi Chi Theta is a professional business fraternity, but it was still something that was way out of my comfort zone. I unfortunately did not realize this fact until a few months after I joined since I jumped into it rather impulsively, but I have too much pride in me to drop it (and I also already paid $150 for two semesters). I don’t want to shy away from this just because I’m not comfortable, though. Most of the people here in PCT are really different than me. They party, drink, make jokes that I’m not used to, and are just a group that I would not have associated with if it not had been for a) a few of my friends in PCT who told me it was a good group b) my pride c) the stinging rejection of not making it past the final round of BUCC interviews (a topic for a later date) d) my pride e) my pride (sensing a pattern here? once again, a topic for a later date). Given the second chance, I honestly would not have chosen to rush PCT again, but….I’m here. And even though most of the people here are intimidating, there’s also a few handful of people that I’m curious to get to know a little better, so for the time being I have to work with what I got.

There’s probably a lot of other good stuff that have happened, but for the sake of cutting this short, I’m gonna move on. Hopefully I can revisit this topic later!

The Bad

Social anxiety. Not actual, diagnosed social anxiety, but…I don’t know. Looking back at it all, I was very, very, very naive when I applied to colleges. I thought just because I enjoyed talking among my little bubble of friends back home meant that I was a social butterfly and thus suited for business. WRONG. I’m not a social butterfly, as I quickly learned within my few first months here. Maybe I’m just really good at hiding it or something because literally the amount of people who have been shocked when I say I’m an introvert….(which is actually extremely disturbing to me lol because I’m like the biggest insecure introvert in the entire world what the heck) I hate talking, people make me nervous, I constantly recite conversations in my head before I say them, I freak out over me messing up on a word which makes me mess up even more, I hate frat parties, I hate it when I have to leave my room, I just hate hate hate hate social interaction I DON’T LIKE IT. It scares me and I can literally feel my skin crawl thinking about how awkward I am. The thing is, none of these fears really came to light until this year; I, at one point, even questioned if I were an extrovert back in high school. You know what, though? It was because home was familiar. Jerome friends were people who I literally spent 4+ years growing up with. Church friends, some twice as long, even longer. I was “social” because I was comfortable, and I also thrived within the subcultures that I was familiar with. But coming here? Everything is different. I’m not in the Dublin bubble anymore, I can’t make the same jokes around my asian friends as I do around other people. This literally broke me lol I had an identity crisis. I stopped speaking up, I feel constantly self conscious about everything, my face turns red when I’m the slightest bit embarrassed (I’ve never had that happen to me before), and I stutter when I talk. But even with these things, I look pretty much normal from an external point of view; I don’t think people think this way about me when they first meet me as much as I do. I feel like these things are so big just because I’m hyperaware of everything but I’m scared that if given enough time, they will become so big that other people start to notice too. I’m actually mildly bitter towards high school and Jerome because I was so sheltered there; people have told me Jerome was weird but this is the first time I’m actually understanding the meaning of that lol. Jerome is weird, we don’t socialize with people the way you typically socialize with people in college, and I really should be more than mildly bitter at both the environment I grew up in and myself for not being more proactive, but at the same time, I’m not sure if I would change it. Weird. Need more time to think about this.

Slightly related, a crippling anxiety that business may not be the right path for me. Yeah, so I hate talking to people and speaking up. Literally the opposite of business. A part of me wonders if me taking AP Chemistry freshman year at Jerome was a contributing factor in me not wanting to pursue science. A big part of me wants to say yes. I wasn’t bad at Chem or Bio, not bad at all, but the pressure of forcing myself to take an AP class as a freshman really ruined learning science for me and left a bad taste in my mouth at the mention of science ever since then. Now, I realize that I really wasn’t horrible at those subjects and am familiar with a more efficient way to learn and I can’t help but feel that my personality is more suited for science, maybe biology or something? I value school and I value education and genuity and kindness and I’ve met some business students who don’t really meet that. Of course, I’m sure there are business majors who are the most amazing people you could meet, but I can firmly, 300% say that I’ve statistically clicked better with non-business majors. Once again, though, I’m too stubborn to drop this, and part of me is hoping that things will get better when my classes get smaller and I get to know Fisher students a little better. Fingers crossed.

I don’t really feel connected to church. I wanted to take both semesters off from 4c and try out some other churches in Columbus for the sake of expanding my comfort circle, and because I really needed a break (once again, a topic for a later time). Well, I didn’t exactly do just that. Whether it’s because I did so out of guilt or out of my own free will, I still went to 4c. Not every week, but enough that I didn’t really fully immerse myself in a different church for the duration of last year. As a result, I was neither fully committed to 4c nor other churches. I’ve given it some thought though, and though I’m a bit disappointing that I didn’t get to spend as much time with the Veritas congregation as I wanted to, I think I should still stick to 4c for now. There’s resignations that I have about 4c, but at the end of the day, it’s my home church, and I feel like I should stay and take time to build its community.

The Things Yet to Come

Of course, it would suck to end on such a depressing note. here’s a few of the things to come in the future, some potentially good, some potentially bad; I hate having my expectations crushed so I like to keep future thoughts mostly ambivalent.

I’m gonna be a membership chair for KSA next year! Equally mixed feeling about this. Considering my earlier rant about ihatetalkingithinki’mawkwardnoonewantstotalktome, and considering family heads are basically the forefront of internal communications with the club, I’m extremely, extremely nervous. Thomas and Lisa know what they’re doing though, and they’ve done a good job so far about getting all of us to help prepare the basic details for next year. I just really, really don’t want to disappoint them and I don’t want the disappoint the rest of the e-board who picked me to be one of the four family heads out of all the rest of everyone to apply. KSA is a really cool organization, and I’d love for me to be able to personally get to know a small portion of its members, and I really, really hope my anxiety doesn’t get in the way. I’ve got a few things prepared to hopefully make the experience memorable for my future family: I got a new camera that I’m planning on vlogging with whenever we go on outings, I ordered a bunch of stationary so I can write cute birthday notes to people, and I wanna make a survey to hand out to everyone at the first meeting to gauge everyone’s expectations and get to know them on a basic level (aka taking a picture of everyone’s faces and memorizing them because I’m horrible with names). I’m praying that I won’t be too awkward to my family next semester

asl;dfjalkj ROOMING WITH HSM GIRLS AHHHHHHHH I’m so excited for this yes yes yes!!! Meeting new people has been quite the experience last year but I’ve been absolutely hyped for the opportunity to finally be able to be on the same floor as the ladies who I feel most comfortable with !!! I’ll be rooming with maddie, Claire with Hannah, and then Jesse with a random roommate and we’ll all be in one square. I myself have spent the past month pinning and buying home decor for me and maddie’s room (at the expense of my poor wallet) and last week I made this really sweet flower pressed picture frame! This is the first time I’ve actually been this involved with home decor lol; my room has always been a hideous amalgram of clippings, notebooks, trinkets, just everything that I’m too afraid to throw away. Planning for next year’s room has really changed me lol. I’m even thinking of going back and reorganizing my shelf (!!!) once I get home to make my room look more ~minimalistic~ lol.

New freshmennnnnnnnn hehehehe I’m actually kind of eager to see the new freshmen that are gonna be on campus next year. Pretty stoked that Hannah and Jenna will still be here; hopefully I’ll use this opportunity to get closer to them! It’ll be nice finally graduating from the #new2osu rank hahahaha.

Classes! This one is also kind of mixed lol. I’m really looking forward to Korean, I’ve been practicing over the summer and kind of miss seeing my classmates every day. Accounting and Stats I’m absolutely terrified for since I’ve never been good with numbers, but after the events of last year I’m filled with a determination I’ve never felt before to tackle tough academics and maybe turn them into my strengths???? For what it’s worth, I bought a bunch of new notebooks from IKEA and new highlighters and that always motivates me to take real good notes.

So there’s probably a million things that I’m missing, but I’ve been sitting here typing for the good majority of 3 hours and my fingers feel kind of funny hahaha. I got the basic stuff for the most part, and it feels really really satisfying to have finally been able to lay something down on this blog after a year hiatus. There’s definitely topics that I still wanna write about, so here’s to the continued battle against inertia and an ever inspired heart!

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