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anna-pixie · 4 years

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safe passage -> the witcher {part one}

This is going to be quite a long series - hopefully! Let me know if you’d like more parts :)

Summary: Your parents have married you off to the prince of a far away town, but to get there you need to pass through some trecherous lands. Your father hires a Witcher and his bard to assure your safe passage. When feelings get involved, what could possibly go wrong?

Pairings: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warnings: None

“The next time I see you, you’ll be a proper woman.” Your mother blubbers, grasping one of your hands in her own as she cries. You pull yourself from her gasp with a roll of your eyes, still sour due to the fact they were pawning you off for their own gain.

“That’s if I ever do see you again. Who’s to say he won’t keep me locked in that tower of his forever?” Your voice is sharp as you spit the words, turning away from your parents sorrowful gazes and heading towards the carriage waiting for you.

Your wrist is snatched quickly and you’re turned back, your father's eyes glaring into your own, “You’d best hope this attitude is fixed by the time you reach your new home. A month on the road should be plenty of time for you to really understand why we did this. We’ve paid the Witcher his coin already, he is waiting in the carriage and will assure your safe passage to Vizima.”

“I hope he lets me die on the way there.” Are the parting words you utter to your father, who releases your arm with a resigned huff. You pick up the bottom of your pink gown as you step into the spacious black carriage, not bothering to glance at the man who already resides in there.

Your mother waves at you once more, whilst your father signals to the rider that it is time to leave, and the carriage rolls on slowly as you leave your life behind. Tears prick your eyes and you sigh sadly, finally looking forwards at the hulking man sat across from you, a smaller man that you hadn’t even noticed sat next to him.

You had never seen a Witcher before in person, but their reputation precedes them - this one in particular. You’ve heard of the inhumanly large man, with hair the colour of pure silver and eyes like a cat - but it is the wolf pendant hanging around his neck that really tips you off. You’re sitting in a carriage with the white wolf himself. Geralt of Rivia, or as he is more commonly referred to, the Butcher of Blavikken.

And, oh, the stories must have failed to mention that he may be the most attractive man on the continent. He observes you with his bright eyes, his chiseled jaw clenched as his fingers tap against his large thigh.

“I’m Jaskier, you must be Princess Y/N!” The smaller man greets you, a wide smile on his mouth as he extends his hand towards you. Although your aim was to not get along with your carers, to anger them until they left you to die in the forest, you can’t help but smile warmly at the man in a blue ensemble, shaking his hand gently.

“It’s a pleasure, Jaskier. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

The man furrows his brows at you, “Better circumstances? We’re delivering you to your new husband! A prince! Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“I should. It’s a princesses duty to accept her husband with happiness no matter if it is her choice to do so.” You reply, a tight smile on your face as Jaskier takes in your words. Your eyes travel to the man next to him who has remained silent, his yellow gaze fixed on you, unnervingly so.

Your body heats and you squirm a little, looking out of the window to escape his suffocating gaze.

“Is that why you hope for me to let you perish on our journey?” The butcher speaks, his voice rumbling from deep within his chest. Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of it, it’s so raw, so dark and masculine. You’ve never heard anything like it.

“Oh, you heard that.” A blush coats your cheeks, and the younger man begins laughing while the white wolf merely continues gazing at you.

The corner of his lip quirks up ever so slightly, “Your father paid us a hefty sum, with even more promised once we deliver you to his highness. Forgive me, princess, but I cannot let you perish, even if that may be your wish.”

“Perhaps I will just have to outsmart you then, run away.” You jest, although a wry smile coats your mouth as you realise you will never be able to outrun a Witcher, there is really no point even bothering.

“I’d love to see you try, princess.”

The next few hours is spent with Jaskier trying to get to know you, and by the time you’ve stopped to set up camp for the night you feel as though you’ve been well and utterly interrogated.

“And then as I was jumping out of the tower, the needle caught on my leg, went all the way through.” Jaskier’s face is pale, and you smirk as you show him the scar on your shin, letting this be your revenge for his incessant questions.

“Forget I even asked.” He pretends to gag, leaving you giggling to yourself while he exits the carriage.

“Impressive, you’ve shut the bard up for a while.” Geralt comments whilst returning to help you climb out of the carriage. You take his hand and jump, gulping when his other hand rests on the back of your waist, steadying you.

“I have two younger brothers, I’m quite well versed in how to deal with an annoyance.”

“Hmm,” He observes you, his hand lingering for a moment, “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“I’ve never been this far out of the city before.” You think outloud as you gaze around the tranquil clearing, watching Jaskier drink from an almost too-blue lake. The unnamed carriage driver slumps against a tree, a hood covering his head while he takes a nap. There is a calming breeze in the air, the thin tree branches swaying and rustling, “It’s so peaceful.”

“Don’t get fooled into a false sense of security. There is a reason you were never allowed out of the city, monsters lurk everywhere, even in the most tranquil places.” Geralt’s eyes dart around while he speaks, like he has just reminded himself that he needs to check for potential dangers.

You observe him as his nose scrunches ever so slightly. Is he trying to sniff out the monsters?

“Witcher’s have increased senses,” Jaskier speaks, startling you as he appears beside you silently, “Smell, taste, hearing, you name it he’s got it.”

“That’s amazing.” You’re awestruck as you watch him slink around the nearby trees, hopefully determining that this is a good enough place to spend the night.

“I tend to forget that one too many times, run my mouth when Geralt annoys me not realising he can hear everything I’m saying.”

“Well, if we need to run our mouths during this month we’ll make sure to do so far away.” You joke, sending a joking glance towards the laughing bard. Your head snaps forward when you hear a low chuckle, and you realise with a groan that Geralt had been listening in on your conversation.

“See what I mean?” Jaskier rolls his eyes, heading to grab the tents from the back of the carriage when Geralt gives him an approving nod.

You lounge back, leaning on a thick tree bark whilst the two men construct the tent, under the shade of two large trees. You look over to the carriage driver, still asleep under the tree adjacent to your own. You don’t know the man, your usual driver remained in the city, continuing to serve your parents whilst they hired a replacement to take you to your new husband.

Your eyes catch the end of a scar peeking out of his black sleeve and your brows furrow as you look at it, your gaze travelling back up again expecting to see the driver sleeping peacefully, but you instead catch his dark gaze peering back at you.

A smile crawls up his lips but before you can dwell on it too much, your attention is stolen by Geralt who places a large hand on your shoulder. You can’t help but shiver at the feeling of his warm skin through your thin dress, looking up at him with a curious gaze.

“We have two tents. Jaskier, the driver and myself will take one - apparently it’s not … “lady-like” for you to lay with men you’re not betrothed to.” His tone is sardonic, clearly not agreeing with the strange marital traditions of upper society.

“Thank you, Geralt.” You smile at him, shuffling behind him as he leads you to the small white tent in which you’ll be sleeping.

You’re on your knees, about to crawl into the tent when Geralt’s voice stops you once more, “We won’t spend every night on the floor, princess, we’ll take some care to stop at inns. Your fathers request.”

“Oh how lovely of him to ensure I have a comfortable place to lie whilst I wait to be sold off like a prized pig.” You mutter quietly, turning away from Geralt before you can catch the way his stoic face drops for a moment as he gazes at your retreating figure.

You decline Jaskier’s invitation for you to join them in eating that evening, you’d been thrown a leaving banquet the night before and still felt stuffed. You can hear the low chatter of the men whilst you toss and turn, waiting for sleep to overtake you.

Slowly falling into a slumber, you can just about make out the shadow of a man standing outside of your tent, unmoving as they seem to just stare at you. In your drowsy state, you don’t think twice about this, simply groaning to yourself before falling into a restless sleep.

#geralt x reader #geralt x oc #geralt x you #geralt imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x oc #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia #geralt x ofc #the witcher #the witcher imagine #witcher imagine

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foxofthedesert · 6 years

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Fanfic Snippet

Thought I’d drop a sneak preview of a story I’ve been slowly whittling away on over a long period of time. Been tinkering on it some here lately. It’s a Kalex fic, AU of course as I seem to be incapable of writing within canon, that changes up the paradigm between Kara and Alex in a way I’ve yet to come across. It’s probably been done, though, and I just haven’t stumbled upon it. Anyway, to be discrete, let’s just say Jeremiah disappears, just for a different reason...

I’ve got 30kish words into the story, but there is currently no deadline for publishing in sight. I don’t feel so bad putting it out here for consumption when it might not ever see the light of day. Does that make me a terrible person? I hope not. Anyway, this scene is set after Kara and Alex meet, sparks fly along with clothes, and our favorite alien is trying to decompress with her best buddy.

Kara nods, eyes wide with brimming excitement that she hasn’t read the situation incorrectly. “Exactly! She seems serious about this, and I...I like that. I want her to be serious about the possibility of an us because I think I already am.”

Her friend’s eyes widen in surprise. “You are?”

Kara shrugs noncommittally to deflect from how part of her harbors zero uncertainties about Alex. It’s the part of her that remains an orphaned alien frightened of her own shadow that craves the approval of someone she cares about.

“I think so?” Her nose scrunches up a couple times as she talks. “I mean, every time I think about my life any number of months from now, I can see her in it. I’ve known her for all of a day and I’m imagining her as part of my future. How crazy is that?”

“Pretty crazy.” Winn ducks when Kara uses super speed to toss a pillow she’d snatched up from the couch at his head. He raises his arms to deflect the fluffy missile. “Hey, you asked!”

Kara groans as she flops down beside him, her brief annoyance snuffed out like a match in a brisk gale. “I know. Argh! I’m being crazy. Am I being crazy? I’m totally being crazy...aren’t I?” She starts pacing, fidgeting with her glasses, brushing her hands through her hair...you know, all the usual signs she’s starting to panic.

To his credit, Winn doesn’t allow her to flounder long. “You’re not crazy, Kara.” When she stops pacing to peer at him with barely concealed desperation, he gives her a reassuring smile, then stands and approaches. He takes her shoulders gently and gives them a squeeze, then coaxes her chin back up when she ducks her head to hide. “Don’t beat yourself up. I promise, you are the least crazy alien person I’ve ever met.”

Kara chuckles a bit. Leave it to Winn to disarm her with a well-timed joke. He really is the best.

“So you really don’t think I’m rushing things here?” she asks when her stomach has settled from the fit she’d almost worked herself up into.

“Only you can be the judge of that,” Winn says with a seldom used sagacity.

“C’mon...” Kara whines, wanting an answer. Needing an answer. Perhaps not so much to tell her what to do as to validate what she’s pretty much already decided to do. It’s too late for her to back out with Alex now. Her new lover may have been a self-proclaimed love ‘em and leave ‘em kind in her recent past, but she isn’t. And that isn’t her being a prude either. She can’t help how she’s wired.

By the time Krypton’s core went critical, individuals of high station such as hers had not practiced casual sex in centuries. The primal urge to fornicate liberally was pruned from the noble gene pool in favor of sustainable pleasure after a tawdry affair plunged the country into a bloody civil war not unlike the ancient Greek conflict Homer wrote of in The Illiad. Modern Kryptonians born into one of the major Houses confined their carnal gratification strictly within the boundaries of their marriages or with the long-term lover they kept while of age and still single or when their matrimonial matches proved less compatible than the genetic scientists who determined such things had predicted. This structure virtually eliminated divorce and ensured optimally adjusted offspring.

Kara’s own mother and father had such arrangements on the side, and that was totally normal. Though her exposure to her parents’ respective lovers was minimal, she knew them and respected both for the positive influence they contributed to her family. Her Mom and Dad were happy, and that’s all that mattered to her.

Her aunt Astra and uncle Non, though, did not need to seek out extra-marital fulfillment. This confused a budding teenage Kara, who inquired of her mother not three months prior to Krypton’s destruction as to why Astra’s marriage was different from her twin sister’s.

“You must understand, little star,” her mother had said, “marriages are arranged in the Great Houses with full compatibility in mind. But the science – advanced as it is – is not always able to account for every variable because it is limited by the conscious minds of those responsible for making those decisions. On the other hand, matches freely made are inspired by areas of our brain that have been iterated upon and improved for nearly a thousand years. As you know, your father and I did not have a choice when we were married, but that does not mean I do not love him. I do, Kara, and with all of my heart and my mind. Our bodies just do not have the same level of compatibility that Aunt Astra and Uncle Non do. You see, your Aunt and Uncle married for love, not out of duty, and thus their bond is total: mind, heart, and body. That is why their marriage is, as you say, different.”

Kara can remember thinking how she very much wanted to be able to choose her own partner like her Aunt did. Looking back, she is pretty sure her Mom and Dad wanted that for her, too. If she wished, she probably would have been permitted to make her own match, especially with Kal-El’s birth on the horizon. The burdens of leadership would not have been incumbent upon her if she so desired to cede her position of preeminence as elder to her double first cousin. There is no way of predicting what she would have chosen now, though she likes to dream that maybe, just maybe, for once she’d have ultimately bucked her own propensity to prioritize duty over happiness.

Of course, there is not only that disposition for forming permanent attachments she has to account for. Attraction for Kara is two-fold, as it is for humans, in that she can be enamored of a person’s personality or appearance or both. The difference for her lies in her mother’s birds and the bees talk. Her brain, and to an exponentially advanced degree beyond the more primitive human organ, is programmed to extrapolate sexual compatibility with a potential partner, subconsciously factoring in all variables at speeds orders of magnitude beyond any machine on Earth – variables such as the prospective individual’s health, measurements, personality and any other critical predilections detected by the ultra-highly attuned instinctual part of her mind. Hundreds upon hundreds of years of refinement through the birthing matrix have made this process close to flawless, and the more she interacts with a person, the more accurate it gets.

In other words, when picking out potential partners, her brain doesn’t make mistakes. The implications on Earth are significant. Without the family to arrange a marriage outside of those parameters, she will, ninety-nine percent of the time, be drawn to individuals who will make exemplary lovers. All that remains for her to determine the fitness of said individual to be a viable partner for life is her own willingness to be brave. In her current dilemma, not only has her brain has already calculated out the equation, but she’s already acted out the solution. For hours. Thirty-two hours, forty-three minutes, and twenty-seven exquisite seconds to be exact. And that math says she and Alex are definite life-mate material.

The point, though, is that she simply isn’t capable of sharing intimacy with someone without forming an insoluble connection. In fact, had they been on Krypton and had she been allowed to choose her own partner, she would be probably be using the upcoming museum date to make things official with Alex. Not proposal official, but certainly with a promise of that in the future. Her own biology would demand that she cement their bond, and the honor of her House would depend upon it. Of course, if this were Krypton, Alex would accept because she would be in the same boat as Kara is. But this isn’t Krypton. And Alex isn’t Kryptonian.

Nevertheless, while Krypton may be gone, Kara still considers herself a Scion of the House of El above any Earthly designation, and with her body already yearning to be reunited with her lover, she has already determined she is pretty much done for. Maybe if only one urge was in play, she could cut ties and write off her experience with Alex as a youthful experiment or a regrettable lapse in judgment. But her sense of duty is screaming at her just as loud as her body is to make Alex hers, and she doesn’t think she has the strength to deny both cravings.

Hearing some encouragement from Winn sure would make her feel better, though. A little, at least. Not that she feels bad per se so much as she’s bull-rushed into an unnervingly unusual situation of her own making. In essence, and at the risk of being crass, she has fucked herself in love. With a human who won’t understand what she’s going through. It’s all enough to make her head spin as is without having to worry about Alex’s reaction to her inevitably impending and bound-to-be-awkward clingyness.

So I had this idea that Kryptonian’s in the Great Houses self-evolved to be less messy with sex than humans are. It makes sense to me this would be the case, not only for optimal child rearing, but for avoiding the potential pitfalls of a casual approach to intimacy such as social and/or familial instability. Some of this is due to my abhorrence of hook-up culture. Call me old fashioned in that way, but I prefer commitment. My take on Kryponian society is that they do, too. Feel free to disagree.

Anyway, this is the result. Poor Kara was set up from the outset to fall for Alex. Her only concern is whether or not Alex will feel the same. *spoiler alert* She will!

#fanfic #supergirl #kalex #kara x alex #winn x kara brotp

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abdicatedarchive · 3 years

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rudimentary || landon x bella

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: throwback // 2017.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: landon x bella.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒: rudeness.

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒: a throwback look into landon and bella’s relationship.

After a long time of schmoozing with Bella's parents, they were finally able to head upstairs. Honestly, it was killing him how long she was making him wait. It sounded like everyone was having sex but him, and sure ... he was doing some stuff on the side. But he wasn't having sex sex, not yet anyways. If she didn't put out today, it was honestly as if she had given him no choice but to cheat. She was babbling again as they got upstairs, and he just laid down on her bed and pulled out his book. He put on his horned rimmed glasses and started to read, patting his chest so she would know to lay down near him. The biggest thing about Bella was that she was beautiful, if only she would ever just shut up. She'd be one of the most popular girls in school if she just wasn't so vocal about things, but while he was in this indie phase she was a nice alternative to the plastic and perfect girls that infected Hastings. But at the same time, those were the girls who were actually hooking up with him ... so they weren't really that bad. They really knew how to keep quiet. "Abs" said Landon as he played with her hair as he pretended to focus on his book, he knew that the more he focused on his book the more she would be willing to do anything to get his attention, "quiet down, I'm trying to read".

Bella enjoyed how much her parents liked Landon, it seemed like she had finally got something right with them, but she still felt like she was on the outside somehow. She didn't add too much to these conversations, but maybe she needed to try a bit harder. When she was alone with Landon however, she couldn't stop talking. She just wanted to share everything with him that she usually kept away in her heart. Bella never really figured out if he kept quiet because he was actually listening or if he was tuning her out. All she ever wanted was for someone to truly hear her and care. Once they got to her room and he pulled out his book, Bella took a pause on what she was previously talking about so she could bring up the book she bought. She had recently read up on some of his favorite authors' work. His interests meant a lot to her, it was a part of who he was as a person. "How is your book going?" she smiled as she laid her head down on his chest. "I saw something from that author last week and it reminded me of you so I got it. If you haven't read it yet, you could always borrow mine. I think you'd really like it-" Hearing the nickname always threw her off a little. She never liked her full name, but if Landon did, she'd try to get over it. "I'm sorry." she mumbled, it was pretty rude to talk to someone while they were reading, she should've been more considerate. Bella moved up a bit to place a soft kiss on his jawline, "Maybe after you're done reading, you could tell me about it?" she suggested. "Or we could talk about your day, whatever you want. If you don't wanna talk that's fine too, I just enjoy being with you." she unintentionally kept rambling. Bella wanted Landon to know that he was loved.

Landon put his finger into his book to hold his place when she asked about his day, "It was boring. Everyone at school is so ... rudimentary." He began to complain, "I have no idea how they let some people into honors English when they can't even comprehend Animal Farm. Like that giant oaf Summers. Not a thought in his whole head, I'd be surprised if the blood makes it all the way up there." Landon couldn't stand most of the people in Hastings, they just needed to educate themselves so they could be on his intellectual level. "I'm just glad there's us. You might not be pretty in the way that the other girls are, but at least you're closer to being able to keep up with my poetry" he meant it as a compliment, but he liked to keep her in her place. While he was speaking, he moved his free hand down her jaw line and pulled her in for a kiss.

There was something slightly draining in Landon's negativity, but Bella never allowed herself to put two and two together. She tried to think that her boyfriend saw a lot of potential in others, and they just weren't at his standard yet. But he was with her, and he wanted to be with her which made her feel better about herself. He must have saw something so special in Bella, something she wasn't able to see just yet. She made an effort to not talk so rudely about others, there had to be some kind of good in everyone, but when it came to the Summers ... let's just say she had to put in the extra effort to find the good for most of them. "I think his strengths lie in sports." She was trying to stay positive, even if the boy wasn't around to hear Landon's comments. Bella made sure not to give any attention to his comment on the boy's height. She didn't like talking about height, and she felt like Landon was a bit bothered by the one inch she had over him. Maybe she was just paranoid about it. Bella couldn't smile any wider when hearing that he was glad that it was the two of them, she felt the same exact way. But of course, those happy moments never lasted too long. "Other girls?" she asked quietly. It felt like a punch to the gut. His lips were already pressed against hers but his comment was still ringing in her head. She needed to try better for him, there was clearly something she was lacking in, so she moved over a bit to get more comfortable and deepened the kiss. It was some kind of attempt to make him more attracted to her.

He was admittedly very jealous of one quality that Cody Summers had, his height. Landon was more of a short king, as his father liked to say. They were a short family, and Landon viewed it as a humbling mechanism from whatever God was out there. It honestly made him very insecure, and was the main reason he switched from sports to the arts. That way he could be the center of attention, the peak sensitive brooding boy. Bella was unnervingly positive, "Abs, that guy is so rude to you. I would never treat a female like that. I can't believe my sister dates him" said Landon. Why his dear sister had to date someone in his grade was beyond him, let alone why she wouldn't just date a college guy when the men of standard were all taken in her grade. "What other girls? Babe you're being insecure, that's not hot. You should be more confident in yourself, that's what's sexy" said the boy as he dropped his book on the floor and moved his hands to her hips. It was odd that he could say that he respected women and then in almost the same breath dish up such deep respect for the one he was spending time with, but that was Landon.

Bella bit down on her bottom lip, she definitely could start standing up for herself more, but Cody's crowd was too intimidating. They seemed like the kind of people that would laugh in her face if she tried defending herself. "I know, but I'm sure there's a lot to him if your sister likes him. She has great judgement in people." she tried talking Alexandra up. She never wanted to get on that girl's bad side. Bella held back the need to comment on Landon's choice of words. It made her deeply uncomfortable, but she didn't want to start any potential fight. "You just mentioned other girls-" she stopped herself, the more she pushed it, the more paranoid she'd look. "Sorry, I think I misunderstood. Really." she forced smile a smile and continued to kiss him. She needed to be confident, that's what he found sexy. Bella pulled away from the kiss and sat up to straddle Landon. That's being confident, right? "Forget what I said. My brain, she's a little slow." she tried laughing off her joke before kissing him again. "If I'm doing anything wrong, let me know please." she added in between her kisses. It may have sounded dumb out loud, but she wanted to make sure she was making Landon happy.

He was happy that Bella liked Alexandra, Alex took some convincing about Bella. But she was of good breeding, and she was definitely the peak of the indie crowd. There were definite advantages to dating Bella: having a date to everything, the prowess of having a girlfriend, someone who was completely devoted to him. She rambled on and on, so Landon put a stop to it in his special way, "my sweet simple girl" said Landon as he tucked hair behind her ear. He pulled her back in for a kiss, moving his hands down from her waist to her ass. He wondered if she was finally going to let him sleep with her, "don't worry, you're doing great. I'm not that much more experienced than you" he said, emphasizing the that. It was important to him to be the most experienced one, especially because with the other girls it wasn't the case.

A side smile appeared on Bella's face as Landon called her his sweet simple girl. There was something bittersweet about it, to be called his sweet girl, but to also be referred to as simple. He always had high standards ... which was a nice way of saying that he thought everyone around him was pretty much stupid or below him. That's how it would come across to Bella sometimes, and she was scared that he saw her like that as well. She wanted to be good enough for him, and she'd do pretty much anything to show him that she was. "Right." she responded awkwardly. Anything she had done, she had done with Landon. Sharing those kind of moments with him was really special to her, so she didn't like to think about the fact that he's been with other people before her. Bella wasn't too much of a jealous person, and whenever those feelings kicked it, she usually tried to keep them hidden for the most part. "I love you." she said as she cupped the sides of his face. "Thank you for always being so patient with me. I just want you to know that I appreciate it and you. A lot."

When she said I love you, Landon replied as he always did "ditto." He had only said he loved her seriously once. Sometimes he slid them in when she did him favors or things, or when they were in front of people. Little love yous in public, but in private? It was just ditto. And he also never said it first. "I am pretty good, aren't I? Not like the other guys at school. I actually understand women" he said with a cocky smile. He liked to remind her how much better he was than the average guy at school. Landon was a sensitive young man in his opinion.

Bella had gotten used to his usual response. Though she would love to hear it back, it wasn't necessary. He had said he loved her before and that was enough to know that she was loved. Him not saying it often just meant that it was even more special to her when he did. "You're the best." she replied with a single nod, taking his conceited comments as confidence. "You're one of the only people that really understands me. Sometimes I feel so alone and out of place, but not when I'm with you." she started to ramble again. When Bella was around her family, she barely spoke. She kept her comments and her feelings to herself, so when she found someone that made her feel as loved as Landon did, she wanted to pour her whole heart out to him. "It's like my life is a Kandinsky painting, full of color."

"That's great Abs" said Landon with a soft smile as he snuck his hands under her shirt. Yeah she was talking about her feelings, and she was being vulnerable ... but whose to say she couldn't be vulnerable in other ways. She was just going on and on, and he had things to do later. Other girls. Bella was always rambling on about how he made her feel, but she never showed him. She took so long to wear down on the whole sex thing, it was obvious that he was going to have to get that from someone else. He wanted to sleep with her, but honestly this was becoming too much. There were plenty of pros to dating her, and his family was a part of that, but the pros were starting to be outweighed by the cons if she wasn't going to put out. His friends said she was going to be easy, that she was so desperate for someone to like her like that. But she had been the most difficult.

Bella wished Landon opened up more to her sometimes, they had been together for so long now, but part of her understood where he was coming from. She wasn't like this with anyone else. There was no point in talking when no one would care about what you had to say. There was also the possibility that her boyfriend's love language was physical touch, and he had been so considerate with her all this time. At this point, it was hard to keep track of how many times she told him she wasn't ready for sex, but she started to realize that there was nothing to be scared of. She would be sharing this moment with the person she loved the most, it would only take their relationship to a higher level. Bella got goosebumps as she felt his hands under her shirt, "Do you have to go soon?" she asked, already feeling her face warm up as she was preparing to tell Landon. "Because I'm ready. For sex." she stupidly specified. "If you're ready, of course. Sorry if this is out of nowhere. I could wait until the time is right."

Landon was more than ready, "I have no where to be" he lied, "I can make time." -Fade to black, he didn't really do anything for her at all. It was just about him- "Fuck, I'm spent" said Landon, "you came, right?" he said as he passed her her clothes. It wasn't that he wanted her to cover up, but he wanted to make sure that he still had the upper hand. It was happening quickly, him losing interest in her. Not that there was that much to begin with, but god, her denying him made him want her. Now he had her, like a baby bird in the palm of his hand.

Bella looked over at Landon and nodded slowly, "Yeah." she lied, forcing a smile as she spoke. She had heard of some people's first times not being as incredible as they imagined, but she didn't think it would be this underwhelming. It felt rude even thinking like that though. It would only get better from here on out, and her boyfriend seemed to enjoy it, so that was good enough for her. She reluctantly grabbed her clothes and put them on, he seemed pretty quick to give them back to her, but maybe she was overthinking that. What would she know? "You could spend the night if you want, my parents won't even notice. We could watch a movie, your pick." she suggested cheerfully.

"Sorry babe, I should probably get out of here. I have plans with my friends" said Landon, emphasizing the fact that they were his friends ... not hers. He didn't want her embarrassing him. She was greatish around the halls, when she didn't speak and it was just a passing situation. She couldn't say anything then, nothing that could be annoying. In the hallway she was just a beautiful girl like all the others, not the prettiest of the Langstons ... but a Langston none the less. Landon got dressed pretty quickly, "Later" he said as he ducked out. Landon whipped out his phone before he was even down the stairs, texting his friends that he had totally gotten her v card.

"Oh. Okay." Bella couldn't hold the smile on her face, she had hoped Landon would at least want to lay with her for a little bit. This was such a big deal for her, and it didn't seem like that for him at all. If he had plans, she of course didn't want to be that girlfriend that makes him cancel just for her, he probably wouldn't cancel anyways, but she thought this would all turn out a lot better. "Bye, I lo-" Something prevented her from finishing her sentence, but he was already gone before she could finish it anyways. She sat there in her bed for a moment, there was an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of her stomach, almost as if she were nauseous, but she did nothing about it. What was there to be done? All she did was get under her comforter and lay down for the rest of the night, she could feel her eyes watering, but tried her best to keep it in. She was all alone and she still felt the need to hide how she was feeling. [ END ]

#landonxbella #threads || bella and landon #bella and landon || 001 #landon: thread

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beatricenius · 7 years

Text

A White-Walled Room

A fic inspired by this thought-provoking post by @red-earth-rising. It turned out kind of meta and it isn’t exactly what I set out to do, but that was at least my source of inspiration.

This fic is also on ao3

The room she was escorted to appeared almost empty at first glance, white-walled and echoing with her solitary steps as she made it past the threshold. It was impossible not to feel out of place in a room like that as a civilian. Something about the stark contrast between the blank nothingness and her vibrant burgundy coat, a color that had felt fairly muted in the world outside the BSHCI. Here, it made her otherness glaringly obvious. She could see it reflected in the thick glass wall separating her from the man she had come to see. Dressed in anonymous beige with his hair cut shorter than in the pictures circulating online, it took her a moment to assemble his features into something she might recognize.

“Good morning, Dr. Lecter.”

“Good morning. Ms. Boudreaux, I presume?”

“That’s right,” She took a step forward. Her hesitance was only apparent in the quivering steel of her eyes. “I was honestly surprised to hear you agreed to the interview.”

“You deliberately told me just enough to spark my curiosity,” There was mild amusement written on his face that did nothing to soothe her frayed nerves. His gaze held no malevolence, but it was the look of someone watching a child in the midst of a silly game. “Consider me informed and consenting. I have no time for formalities. What exactly is the topic of your research?”

“I’m writing a thesis about the evolving nature of your crimes,” She formed her mouth carefully around the words she’d memorized. “More specifically, the alterations to your MO after you joined forces with former special agent Will Graham. Post-fall, as it were.”

He tilted his head. “Much has already been said on the topic of those alterations. What do you intend to contribute to the conversation?”

She exhaled through her nose. “Many hesitate to explore the underlying themes of the murder tableaus you and Mr. Graham created, since those themes are potentially controversial. I don’t. I want to explore the angle of internalized homophobia as it is made evident in your crime scenes, when studied alongside what we know about you and the environments in which you spent your formative years.”

As she spoke, he went very still. She was unsettled by that too; the unnatural stillness that made her realize the extent to which his sparse yet deliberate micro expressions animated him.

“What are these environments you speak of?”

“Do you mind if I record this?” He signaled his approval and she fumbled with her equipment for a moment before hitting the record button. “You asked what environments I was referring to. Europe during the AIDS epidemic. The rural south, blue collar America. All fertile grounds for homophobic rhetoric.”

“I was never part of blue collar America.”

“Will Graham was. Did he ever talk about that?”

“No. Even before his attempted double suicide, Will did not like to linger in the past.”

She had heard him speak Will Graham’s name on countless occasions, but now that the smooth drone of his voice wasn’t a tinny recording filtered through busted speakers, she was struck by the sheer amount of affection he was able to pour into a single syllable. Will Graham’s name was spoken with something akin to homesickness.

“Has your thesis proposal truly been approved, Ms. Boudreaux? This sounds, for all intents and purposes, like an extension of tabloid journalism.”

“Do you object?”

A slight pause. “Not necessarily,” He gestured toward a chair in the middle of the room. “Ask what you came here to ask. I will let you know if I have any objections.”

She sat down, smoothing her hands over her thighs as if she was wearing a skirt. She wasn’t. She was wearing a pair of slacks she didn’t usually wear and worried that the way they rode up to expose her calves made her look somehow foolish. She couldn’t remember whether the color of her socks clashed with her coat. Being in his line of sight made such worries surface automatically.

“People always say that you respond best to politeness. I think that’s an oversimplification. My guess is that you’d prefer it if I was blunt rather than polite.”

“You can be polite while being blunt.”

“I can try,” She took her notes out of her bag. She’d more or less memorized those too, but the weight of them on her lap was calming. “My first question is a given. Was your relationship with Will Graham romantic?”

“Romantic,” The word was held against the roof of his mouth for a moment. “We were never inclined to label or categorize what we shared. It was intimate.”

“Sexual?”

“Intimate.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Your incompetence is flagrant. Obviously there is a difference. Sometimes we touched. Often, we did not. Regardless, it was intimate.”

“What was the nature of this touch? If you would humor me.”

He gave her a long look. “You should know that my memory is not what it once was. My information processing has become a finely woven sieve. Supposedly, I have an early onset of Alzheimer’s. They have been saying that for almost ten years. I usually have the mental presence required to keep myself moored. I don’t forget. I jumble.”

“Give me something jumbled.”

“The beat of his heart against my palm. The snow crust scratch of his voice next to my ear as his legs wrapped around my waist. Blood and semen and tears. All mine. His attraction to me was multifaceted and nothing if not complex. He could never sustain an erection with me. But we would kiss. On rare occasions, we had intercourse. All sorts of physical closeness was important; parts of me in parts of him, and vice versa. Do you understand?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Touch can be affirming. The simplest form of affirmation there is.”

“No. No. Affirmation was never the point. It was a was a blurring of individuality, the act of physically merging. It would close the final distance between us when our minds were already connected. Do you understand?”

“Theoretically. I’ve only ever had casual sex.”

Something shifted behind his eyes. “Sexual intimacy without emotion is a debasement of everyone involved. An act verging on bestial.”

“Not bestial. Casual. Almost polite.”

He smiled faintly. “People have often likened me to an animal. I always found it amusing. Will reminded me more of an animal than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“How?”

“I could never figure out whether the scale tipped in favor of design or instinct. He would pounce like something starving, with every bit of impersonal fury he could muster. Chest heaving, eyes that were all pupil. I would taste blood between his teeth and there was no telling where it came from. Him, me, someone else. Above all else, he acted on mindless drive. Transparent like an animal in intention.”

“With all due respect, that sounds like wishful thinking on your part, Dr. Lecter.”

“He was animal-like in that as well. The way he would adapt and evolve to suit my preferences. I did the same for him. I often tried to be what he thought I was.”

“But not what he wanted you to be?”

“Will never knew what he wanted. I forgave him for that early on. Eventually, he came to forgive himself as well.”

“For wanting an intimate relationship with you or for not wanting it enough?”

His eyes narrowed. “Will’s struggle with internalized homophobia rendered him unable to fully reciprocate. Is that what you meant to imply? That his desires were thwarted by self-loathing, born from the suffocating press of traditional values?”

She replayed the exchange in her head to pinpoint when and why his voice had sharpened with offense. All too late, she realized her mistake.

“I don’t wish to speak to someone who doesn’t listen to what I have to say, Ms. Boudreaux. You have a fixed idea of our involvement with each other and your questions have been prepared according to your assumptions. A tedious novice mistake.”

“I am listening. I am.”

“No. You aren’t. Your thesis is moronic. I don’t want what we shared to be contextualized. Context is irrelevant. Did you honestly think we were unable to move past such trivial notions after everything that transpired between us?”

For the first time since she walked into the room, she felt certain that she knew what the flicker behind his eyes meant. She recognized it from her reflection in the mirror, the vague yet palpable anger that arose from having been bereft. She didn’t soften her voice deliberately when she spoke, but found that a note of compassion bled into it anyway.

“I would understand it if that was the case. Are you a romantic, Dr. Lecter? You sound like a romantic.”

“I am opposed to searching for an explanation for that which defies explanation. With the right theoretical framework, any tangle of events can be arranged into something linear and logical. Fitting neatly into your little discourse. We do not fit there. Moreover, we do not belong there.”

“Don’t you?”

“No,” He paused. “I will not be pitied for things that never were. We did what we could with what we had, and I would not change a thing. Everything mattered. Every cause and its subsequent effect. He gave me everything he had and I did the same.”

“I understand. I do. May I ask you something else?”

“No. You may not. I don’t wish to speak to you any longer, Ms. Boudreaux. I’m afraid you have overstayed your welcome.”

“I didn’t mean to step out of line. I promise. When did your relationship start to progress into the intimacy you talked about? I want to hear it from you. Please.”

When he didn’t answer, she sucked her lower lip into her mouth and deliberated quickly. Finally, she released a small breath. “Alright. Alright. I’ll leave. Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Lecter. I appreciate it. I’m sorry to have offended you.”

Just as she was putting her things away and slinging her bag over her shoulder to leave, he took as step closer, fixing her with that unnervingly attentive gaze.

“He resonated with me. Like the echo of blood and breath in a seashell. I made the conscious decision to perceive that echo as the sound of the ocean. Do you understand? That intimacy was always there, from the very beginning.”

“Sometimes an echo is just an echo.”

“But love is dependent on elevation of the prosaic,” He stepped back again. “I can no longer stand it. The sound of the ocean. When he was alive, it was my favorite sound. It is where we were born and where we could have died. I regret that the ocean did not take him. I should have drowned him there. I should have laid myself to rest beside him. Did they tell you what happened to the nurse that played the sound of the ocean on a white noise generator?”

“They told me. Should I get someone, Dr. Lecter?”

“I admit that was rather bestial of me. Though I was never what Will was. Don’t get anyone, it would not be to my benefit.”

“Then I won’t,” She decided to go out on a limb. “It’s been nearly five years since Will Graham’s execution. Right? It’s understandable that the upcoming anniversary of his death makes you miss him. That’s why you agreed to see me. You want to talk to someone about it.”

“Are you a romantic, Ms. Boudreaux? You sound like a romantic.”

“Takes one to know one,” She ventured a hesitant smile. It wasn’t mirrored in the even lines of his face, but his eyes softened ever so slightly. “Thank you for your time. I mean that. May I visit again? I won’t bring my notes, just my ambition. And my company. An arrangement like that could benefit the both of us, I think.”

“Thank you for your blunt politeness,” He looked just past her head, as if his gaze was drawn by something behind her. “Let me know in advance when you want to visit. My memory is not what it once was. I need to separate to refine. Sieving is time-consuming work.”

“I will. Thank you.”

As she walked down the long corridor, she thought about the look in his eyes as his gaze fixed on that spot beside her, just above her head. It reminded her of flourish of violets in his voice as that single, delicate syllable rolled off his tongue. Absentmindedly, she considered the fact that Will Graham would have been almost exactly a head taller than her, if the information she had come across was correct.

#hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #murder husbands #fic #mention of attempted suicide #in reference to twotl #referenced major character death

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sailorstarr-chan4 · 7 years

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50 Day Anime Challenge

Day 13. Anime couple that pisses you off the most

Kaname x Yuki, from Vampire Knight

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

Honestly.... I just REALLY despise this ship/pairing, mainly because of the male lead. I was gonna save this rant for a later day (an anime character I despise), but honestly.... there is NO OTHER COUPLE that angers me and gets under my skin quite the same way these two. That said, here’s my “defense for the female protagonist ramble”:

I love Yuki, I really do. She was my first manga protagonist, and still one of my all-time favorites, partially out of admiration and partially for relating to her character. Unfortunately, she gets WAY too much hate for simply being a victim of poor writing. Her indecision between Kaname and Zero starts off as natural (childhood crush vs growing bond), but eventually devolves into “plot demanding more angst” BS. Which is a shame, because Yuki Cross/Kuran genuinely has great potential and great moments as the heroine. She’s feisty, kicks all kinds of ass (both as a human and vampire), is extremely compassionate, and is even willing to sacrifice herself, her heart, and her blood for the sake of others. She’s a strong, capable, and passionate protagonist who constantly gets the shaft (both by the fandom and by the writer) because of the plot’s chains.

And also, frankly, because of Kaname Kuran.

Which brings me to the point of this post: Kaname is NOT a victim of the plot like poor Yuki is. No, his despicable traits have been oozing on the pages since the beginning. Despite the early volumes playing him up as the “quiet, hot, mysterious” type, his true nature was unveiled bit by bit, if only by his abusive (yes, abusive!!) behavior towards his beloved Yuki.

Even more spoilers ahead, and a LOT of angry ranting.

The manga begins with Yuki’s obsessive love for Kaname, starting after he saved her from a bloodthirsty vampire (her first day in her new human life, but I digress), and since then she’s worshiped the very ground he walks upon. Again, natural for a young girl with a crush, especially when he constantly visits her and is clearly unnervingly affectionate towards her. A few years before the main story begins, a traumatized boy named Zero Kiryu comes into Yuki’s life, as a fellow survivor of a vampire attack, but unlike her, he was unfortunately turned-vampire as well. Kaname often blackmails and manipulates Zero to protect Yuki in his place, though of course, it goes without saying, because Zero genuinely loves Yuki and lets her be herself. While Yuki and Zero grow together as best friends, Kaname remains the mysterious, attractive, distant man whom Yuki pines after.

After Zero’s awakening as a vampire, shit starts hitting the fan, Yuki finds herself growing closer to BOTH vampire boys, up until Kaname “awakens” her back to her original vampiric state. See, all those years ago, when he saved Yuki from the rogue vampire, it was after she had been turned into a human by her pureblood vampire mother, Juri Kuran, in order to seal her away in the human world and be safe. Kaname, her brother, was to look after her from afar. (Yep, we’re going into the incest department) But the truth is, Kaname is actually a resurrected progentior of the Kuran family (aka: one of the FIRST vampires in history), and has been playing the “spin doctor” with nearly every single event of the series, all so he can end the life of Rido Kuran (Yuki’s insane uncle), and eventually sacrifice himself to forge a new vampire weapon for the Vampire Hunter Society. His motives, after resurrecting, are strictly to ensure Yuki’s safety and “happiness,” hence why his fanbase continues to squee in delight over his existence.

But I refuse to see him in any sort of redeemable light as a whole. Because tragic backstories are not an excuse for abusive behaviors.

He’s every inch the villain or anti-hero, who happens to be in love with the protagonist. He’s sadistic, manipulative, psychologically abusive, murderous, and a liar. His literal, one “redeeming” quality is his motive: to protect Yuki..... if by “protect” you mean:

constantly telling her she’s helpless, even though she clearly can hold her own in a fight

accusing her of “making him” act a certain awful way (ie: “Yuki, you make me cruel”)

NEVER ONCE OWNING UP TO HIS MISTAKES UNTIL THE BITTER END

without involving her somehow anyway.... gods, he makes me sick!

emotionally manipulating her to make her stay

giving her a taste of “freedom” only to chain her up again

ADMITTING THAT A PART OF HIM WANTS TO KEEP HER LOCKED UP

“punishing” her for standing up for herself

chuckles and says that it’s cute when she defies him because HE HAS POWER OVER HER AND SHE HAS NO CHOICE

constantly guilt tripping her and manipulating her feelings

LIED ABOUT HIS TRUE IDENTITY, EVEN TO THE POINT WHERE AFTER SHE REGAINS HER MEMORIES, SHE THINKS SHE’S BANGING HER BROTHER, AND HE HOLDS IT OVER HER HEAD UNTIL HE FINALLY REVEALS WHO HE REALLY IS

telling her it’s “for her own good”

and “I only want what’s best for you”

and “I only want your happiness”

despite

never

letting

her

pursue

any

sort

freedom

HAPPINESS!!!!

He’s literally every abusive asshole boyfriend ever, under the guise of “sexy vampire fantasy.” People talk of Edward Cullen’s creepiness or Christian Gray’s issues, but those guys got NOTHING, NOTHING over Kaname Kuran’s ass!!!

AND YET. YUKI STILL LOVES HIM. AGAIN, VICTIM OF POOR WRITING.

Not to mention, as the series progresses, Yuki is clearly also a victim of psychological abuse. Hence, why her torn feelings between Kaname (the abusive boyfriend) and Zero (the angsty unrequited lover) are so tragic and understandable. I saw a review of Vampire Knight, accusing Yuki of being an awful bitch for choosing both in the end, but I disagree. It’s never easy choosing between two people, especially when your bonds are so deeply tied together. Kaname was her childhood “brother” and fiance, the man who saved her life multiple times, and always watched over her; Zero was the one she tenderly looked after, who protected and fought along side, and never tried to manipulate her, even though he desperately craved her blood. Both had strong ties, and both would die defending her life.

When she chose to live with Kaname, she was acting under the promise she’d made as a child vampire, but her desires and love for Zero were no less important. Though Kaname would pretend that her feelings were acceptable, he clearly hated her love for Zero, and constantly guilt tripped her to stay with him instead. Zero, on the other hand, accepted Yuki’s choice, knowing that his own personal choice to wipe out the pureblood vampires would include her (but not really, cuz Zero is a big softie).

This love triangle is complicated to say the least, and it only gets worse for poor Yuki, especially after Kaname seemingly goes rogue, and she chooses to erase Zero’s memory because she hates how she torments him. But in the end, when everything comes into light, she sleeps with Kaname one last time, as they prepare for the final battle, and at the last moment, as Kaname began dying, he embraced Yuki and Zero, asking/saying they should be together. <--THAT, that one act alone, is Kaname’s only redeeming moment, but it does not make up for the shitload of manipulation, pain, and abuse he made Yuki, Zero, and countless others undergo.

... So yeah. I hate Kaname. And I hate his pairing with Yuki (and how they kinda were canon for half of the series). I’m so eternally grateful to the mangka for bringing Zero and Yuki together at the very end...

#my post #rant #50 Day Anime Challenge #Day 13 #Vampire Knight #Kaname and Yuki #NOTP #least favorite #otaku #otaku issues

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skyfanatica · 7 years

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FLASHBACK FRIDAY: SKY FERREIRA INTERVIEW, APRIL/MAY 2011

SOURCE

JUNE 29TH, 2011

Even amongst the glitterati of New York where the toast of the town changes from night-to-night if not hour-to-hour, the current buzz surrounding Sky Ferreira is incessant. The LA-born bombshell moved to the Big Apple last year and has been taking the city by storm with her flamboyant Latin-American looks, her never-ending energy and a burgeoning music career that is already receiving masses of attention even though her debut album is yet to be released.

She’s become a mainstay of CK One’s recent ad campaigns, appeared in Uffie’s video for ‘Pop The Glock’, played a cameo role in Matthew Porterfield’s drama Putty Hill singing (‘I Will Always Love You’) and somewhat less elegantly, starred in Justice’s tour documentary A Cross The World.

“Ugh, they made me look like their fucking groupie,” she snaps of that now-infamous scene where she’s filmed drunkenly belting out the French duo’s hit ‘We Are Your Friends’ a cappella on a dressing room floor. Aside from these on-film appearances, Ferreira also boasts a bulging portfolio of magazine articles, blog posts and Lolita-chic fashion shoots that would make professional models twice her age envious.

As she meets Wonderland in the lobby of the trendy Bowery Hotel in downtown Manhattan, it’s not hard to see Ferreira’s appeal. Even in a varsity t-shirt, spring jacket and boots, her striking looks stick out a mile even in the dimly lit bar area. Such effortless style and beauty has undoubtedly opened numerous doors for her, but Ferreira shows an open disdain for her reputation as an arch-scenester, a socialite with inflated film-star aspirations or worse still, a debauched band-aid. The reality is apparently far more mundane.

“The bizarre thing is that I really don’t go out all that often – I stick to the same five people most of the time,” she explains gesticulating wildly to underline her point. “It’s just when I do go out, there’s always someone there to take a picture and then it just looks like you’re partying when in reality, I was probably just stopping by to see a friend. I’m not a needy person. I like to spend a lot of time by myself.”

She wrote her first songs when she was just an infant (“at least, I thought they were songs” she laughs) but like most kids, the teenage years were when Ferreira’s real tastes began to blossom. Using Myspace as her platform, Ferriera then started to upload her own music and began an almost unnervingly persistent campaign of contacting producers and songwriters in the hope of pestering them until they would agree to work with her.

“I am the sort of person that will push and push until I get what I want,” she sniggers and to her credit, it’s an approach that paid off. Almost immediately, Swedish duo Bloodshy & Avant (who were responsible for Britney Spears’ career-defining ‘Toxic‘, and have also written and produced for Jennifer Lopez, Kelis, Kylie Minogue and Miike Snow) saw the potential that the 15-year-old Ferreira had and agreed to a collaboration that would eventually produce her debut single ‘One‘. Not satisfied with that score, she also enlisted the likes of Greg Kurstin, Colin Munroe, Nicole Morier and even Linda Perry to work on an album’s worth of songs before finally signing to EMI in 2009.

Another reason that Ferreira has felt the wrath of the blogosphere is her forthright approach to sexuality. Aside from being an obvious object of desire for the world’s seedier population, she’s spoken honestly about her attraction to older men – on As If! track ‘108’ she teases: “My secret lover is 108 / I know it sounds insane / it’s really OK”. She also caused an uproar when a picture of her posing with a bottle of vodka between her legs found its way on to Katy Perry’s Twitter feed. The lead track from As If! EP, ‘Sex Rules’ only furthers that overtly sexualized image that Ferreira has built up but again, it’s something that she regards with incredulousness rather than regret.

“I’m not a raging slut! I’ve actually only been with one person in my whole life who’s been my boyfriend for two years. But being sexually active at that age is more normal than a lot of people want to believe. To me, ‘Sex Rules’ is funny and playful. That was my intention at least, especially with those lines about using ‘your God given tools.’ I wrote it with Billy Steinberg who wrote ‘Like A Virgin’ and ‘I Touch Myself’, so he has this lineage of racy songs. I couldn’t ignore his history. It would be like getting the world’s best guitarist to guest on your album and asking him to play the trumpet!”

As the interview slowly winds down to a close, we can’t help but notice that Ferreira’s attention is already being drawn to another area of the Bowery’s plush bar area and that she’s keen to move on. The world, it would seem, waits for no woman, especially one with as much enterprise and determination as her.

But before disappearing, she makes it clear once and for all that for the most part, the tabloid version of Sky Ferreira is a myth that needs to be vanquished. And she has the tools to do it too. “The only way to really get past all the things people say about me or the ideas that they have is the music. If it’s good enough and it can’t be denied then things will change. There’s no other way to prove it. My music has always been my priority… and it always will be.”

#sky ferreira #interview #wonderland magazine #2011

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