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#i bet he like talked all the time about how laws come from religion
box-dwelling · 7 months
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As someone who went to Germany and spent like 70% of the time in churches, Von karma sibling growing up Christian head canons is so fucking personal to me
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xviruserrorx · 3 years
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Okay but this idea has been rattling in my head for months now that I even started new fanfic about it. (which I need to stop doing with every head cannon I come up with)
BUT just think people like Leon is a couple years older than Arthur. So of course that's where everyone in the fandom gets that he's the mom friend of all the knights or the voice of reason. And of course that him and Arthur grew up together.
OKAY okay but wait for it... Magic was banned AFTER Arthur was born. When he was born his lovely mother died which caused Uther to put a ban on magic and put the death penalty on it. And we know that Nimueh was actually Uther's and Ygraine's close friend that that's why they went to her. Then Gaius is a sorcerer also who has sworn off magic when Uther put the ban (I always wonder why Uther never did Kill Gaius but they talk many time of how their friendship is. In a way it reminds me of Merlin and Arthur.) Then we have the evidence of Gaius saying all his pupils like Edwin, Julius, and even Alice who he planned to marry he had to help get them all out of Camelot.
Okay so... Leon most likely grew up around magic for a few years very very young (3-5 years old) or even less. But he grew up around magic and he saw all the good it could do. Not to mention he also saw everything of the great purge. Arthur was too young to remember any of that and non of the other knights would have been born aside from maybe Gwaine or Lancelot (who the fandom also say are older than Arthur). But at that time Gwaine was with his family in Carleon's land and Lancelot was with his family too. So Leon would be the only Knight who has seen Magic at it's best when used in the right hands.
The point of all this rambling is that Leon would probably be the most accepting of magic of all the Knights (aside from Lancelot). Probably even happy to see magic used so purely again. And I always see stories or head canons of Gwaine being accepting of Merlin's magic because he cares for him. But Gwaine often does things in the show and his dialogue whenever involving magic is always very hostile or shows a dislike. But Leon has a couple of scenes where he is shown to be completely fine with the concept of magic but of course like the others he still fights against it because that's the law. (The law is hard, but it is the Law... *cue Magnus rolling his eyes*)
Leon would be a voice of reason in any magic reveal because he wouldn't be angry about betrayal etc. Because he saw what the great purge did that killed hundreds and almost wiped out races of the old religion. He would probably be like "you would rather execute your best friend/someone you care for because of something they were born with and couldn't help." A Merlin magic reveal or even Morgana and Mordred too Leon is a good background character to have in your fanfics.
(Also this all came from me trying to think up of a campfire scene- because I'm a sucker for campfire scenes and you'll see it's a common reoccurrence in my works- and what popped up into my head is all the knights and servants around a campfire and Mordred gets into a conversation with Merlin and Daegal which they drag everyone else into and they ask Leon what Camelot used to be like. So then again we have Leon being a mom friend and all the little ducklings sitting around as he tells them a bedtime story. Oh and you sure as heck can bet George is there as his Boyfriend Manservant... They're just like Achilles and Patroclus okay their tent mates.)
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unprofessional-bard · 3 years
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Chapter 9 - Love Among the Ruins
Losing My Religion Series Masterlist
Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist
Previous Chapter • Next Chapter
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC
Warnings: Angst in the beginning, some fluff in the middle and smutty smutty smut with dirty talk(?) at the end with a surprise 😌
Summary: The lovers finally confront each other.
Word Count: 5.925
Author's Note: For those who are wondering about the date - it's mid September & October, 2035! I'm so sorry for the late update, my inspo was a little low; writing this chapter was disastrous because I changed the course of the story halfway through but after many proofreading's and editing, here we are. My apologies again for keeping you all waiting for so long, I hope y'all are still interested in this series 🥺
Enjoy!
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As you had predicted, you hadn't healed an ounce. All your bruises did was change colour and, according to Katherine, it was a sign that you were healing. Bullshit, you had said. You didn't say you knew better than a doctor, but you'd had similar scars like these and they healed quicker in the span of a week than these had in ten days.
"I'm sorry-" You had immediately apologised to Katherine after you let your frustration slip. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"No offense taken," She smiled sadly. "I understand your frustration, (Y/N). Physical damage like yours takes its toll on the person."
"I ain't healing, Katherine." You croaked, sighing. "It doesn't have anything to do with your treatment."
"I know," Katherine caressed your shoulder gently. "You went through hell and you need to rest. You need to heal emotionally so the rest of you can too."
The words stuck to you, of course you knew it had something to do with your mental health, but you didn't know exactly what you needed or needed to do.
But deep down, you knew exactly what you needed.
So that's why -after a total of a week and a day in the infirmary had passed and Tommy visited you by himself on a rainy morning- you decided to confront Joel.
"Hey," Tommy appeared by your door with that stupid smirk and Texan drawl.
"Hey," You chuckled through your nose at the sight of him. Your voice was better than it was a couple of days ago: "You look cheerful."
"No more than usual," Tommy sat down. "How're you feelin' today?"
"No shittier than usual," You scoffed, making him chortle. Before you knew it, the following words rolled out of your tongue: "I want to see Joel." Tommy's expression morphed into a shocked one, as he clearly wasn't expecting you to say that, so you added while he remained silent: "That ass hasn't visited me once."
"He... actually did- does," Tommy cleared his throat. "But you don't know that 'cause he does when you're asleep."
Your eyes widened at the new information, your brows immediately knitted: "What?"
"Dolly, look-"
"Don't you Dolly me!" You hissed. "Tommy Miller, you're no less of an ass than your brother!"
"Why am I an ass now?!" Tommy objected.
"You knew he visited me and kept it from me?!" You raised your voice.
"What's going on?" Daisy suddenly walked in, hearing the commotion from meters away.
"Nothing- don't worry," He quickly lowered his voice and reassured her. "Something bit Dolly in the ass."
"Oh fuck you Tommy," You flipped him off. "You're lucky I'm stuck to this damned bed, or I'd smack the shit out of you-"
"Why is my husband's sister-in-law smacking the shit out of my husband?" Maria appeared out of nowhere, smirking as she looked at the scene in front of her.
Tommy liked to refer to you as her sister-in-law, even though you weren't labelled as married with Joel; it unintentionally became a habit of the actually married couple and, even though the road ahead wasn't clear for you, they made you a part of the family. You didn't mind, you didn't try to protest against it because this was exactly the same case with "Dolly".
"Your husband is being an ass!" You groaned.
Tommy stayed quiet for a moment, then sighed in defeat. "You know what? You're actually right. I should've told you."
"...It's okay," You didn't look him in the eyes as you exhaled heavily.
A confused Daisy walked out of the room with an okay, nevermind kind of expression on her face, making Maria walk into the room and close the door behind her: "What happened?"
"Joel visits me while I'm asleep and none of you bother to tell me about it?" You looked between them in a displeased manner.
Maria and Tommy exchanged a guily look between themselves, then Maria spoke: "Yeah, we should've told you, you're right... but you said you weren't ready to face him just yet. He knows this and he's ashamed of what he did, so I think he thought it was better to visit you like that than not visit at all."
"Well, I'm not going to pussy out and avoid this furthermore, I want to see him." The couple exchanged another worried look before you added: "Bring him here- to me."
Tommy chuckled. "He'll come running, don't worry, but he just left for patrol..."
"Oh... okay. Afterwards, then." You said, calmer now.
"I'll let him know when he returns," Maria turned to her husband and then back to you. "I'm glad you decided to talk to him - one of you had to do it sooner or later and, well, I knew it was going to be you."
You gave Maria an alien look, many emotions running through your mind as she continued: "You may not be aware, but you're quite confrontational. I think Ellie got that from you."
"Oh, no," You smiled a little. "I got it from her. She's the most confrontational kid I've ever seen."
Maria smiled back: "As I was saying, you're confrontational, but Joel isn't - according to Tommy, anyways."
"You're right, to some level anyway," You looked at Tommy, then leaned back on your pillows.
Whether they liked it or not, a person has to come face to face with their mistakes, accept them, learn from them and move on. It was easier said than done of course, you knew this better than anyone - suddenly you felt sick to your stomach, memories of your first weeks in Jackson interrupting your train of thought, all of a sudden making you nauseous and giving you a desperate urge to be left alone.
"Are you okay, (Y/N)?" Maria sat beside you. "You're going paler by the second-"
"I'm fine," You gulped. "Just- old memories-"
Maria immediately took your hand which was closest to her in both of hers: "It's going to be okay, nothing that can't be sorted out."
"I know," You smiled weakly, the need to empty your insides crawling up your throat. "I should rest a while, I don't feel too well-"
"Should I call Kat?" Tommy asked and Maria gave you a concerned look.
"No, no, I'm fine, I just- I need to sleep for a bit..." You gave her hand a weak, reassuring squeeze, then closed your eyes and pressed your head against the pillows. The couple took this as their cue and left quietly, letting you fall into a long sleep.
----
It was a tough day for the eldest Miller brother. He was absolutely drained and currently sleeping on the uncomfortable, leather chair outside your room after a rather harsh patrol; his arms were crossed and legs were spread and he was sure his neck would've snapped in half if he hadn't woken up to the echoing of a door opening. He quickly sat up, all those years out in the wild having made his hearing hypersensitive, and cursed quietly, rubbing his neck and groaning. The watch on the wall read 19:07 and his head snapped towards your door immediately, but before he could get up, a voice he wasn't entirely fond of scratched at his ears.
"Hey man..." It was Walt. He scratched the back of his neck as Joel slowly turned his head toward him. "I- I wanted to see how she was doin'..."
Joel just nodded: "She's cross with you, but she'll appreciate that."
"Wait- you cool with me visiting her?" Walt halted, making Joel sigh and cross his arms.
"I am- unless you give me a reason not to be." He said and told the redhead not to push his luck. Walt just nodded and sat beside Joel.
"Would ya mind if I asked what happened?" Walt spoke, his green eyes falling on Joel's hazel ones.
"I do." Joel didn't look at him, focusing on the floor instead. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
"It's just that, I saw Tommy and Maria talking with Eugene and I overheard how your relationship was ah..."
Joel's head snapped at Walt's words which trailed off: "Didn't I just say I don't wanna talk about it?"
"Right- you're right, I'm sorry." Walt apologised as Joel gave him an irritated look. "I am, really."
Joel turned his head forward and leaned back, sighing through his nose. He couldn't believe you would've ended up with Walt, of all the people in Jackson, if Ellie hadn't set you two up on Christmas- or, well, if he had died in that hospital while saving his daugh-
"I just wanna say," Walt interrupted Joel's train of thought. "She'll come around. She always does. I pulled off some real stupid shit ever since we became friends and she always forgave me. She's a good person."
Joel side eyed him: "Yeah, she is..."
"But don't tell me you're gonna wait here until she makes up her mind and decides to forgive you Lord knows when?" Walt chuckled. "You don't wait for someone that long..."
Joel turned his head toward him once more and straightened up, hands squeezing his arms tighter at his nonsense: "I am gonna wait. You bet your ass I will - as long as she wants me to. She's broken, but healing- and that kinda healin'?" He pointed at your room. "It takes a lotta time... She has all the time she needs to make up her mind- don't really care if it takes days or weeks. I'm heartbroken too, but in the end, I'll wait."
Walt's smile immediately dropped the second those words left Joel's lips. He was frozen on spot, totally humiliated and couldn't do anything as he added: "I don't expect you to understand. If you loved her like I do, you'd wait."
Joel could tell Walt wanted to be swallowed by a deep hole in the ground - he was utterly dumbfounded and clearly wasn't aware of how your relationship with Joel was love at its truest form.
"I think it's best if you leave now." Joel sighed once more, got up without sparing another look at the shocked man, then quietly walked into your room.
----
You woke up from a reoccurring nightmare right when the chatter outside had began. It's the same scenario: You're captured by Axel, but there are different endings sometimes.
Usually, it's just the image of Axel's ruined corpse. You knew you'd done some pretty fucked up things in the past as a FEDRA soldier and you acknowledged them, but none of them was as bad as this one, you thought. Beating a man to death to the point of bringing his insides out? Even though your acts were mostly justified in your head and by the people who knew the story, you simply couldn't believe you went as far as to torture him to death.
He was right, he did ruin you.
Sometimes, right before you're captured, he shoots Joel in the head while negotiating your surrender. This is the worst one next to the one when you let the darkness envelop you whole- let it embrace you and you end up losing everyone and everything, including your mind. Those are the ones that wake you up with a brutal scream, that has the nurses rushing into your room in panic.
Sometimes it'd be after he captured and tortured you: After hearing the gunshots from outside and fleeing, you'd die and wake up in cold sweat with trembling hands. Sometimes, one little mistake and either Tommy or Joel -or both- would die. Sometimes you'd die right in front of them- Axel would shoot back instead of running like a coward and the bullet would put a hole between your brows. The thing that scared you wasn't the dying bit, it was the fear of failure and agony you'd cause to your family: To Joel and Ellie, Tommy, Maria and to the others who cared for you. The way Joel told you not to go after Axel or to not do certain things echoed through your subconscious and you acknowledged just how right he was.
That was what you were afraid of.
Disappointment, disapproval and failure.
In this nightmare, however, you were going hand to hand with Gabe. You remembered how scared you'd felt when he pulled off that move with his legs, trapping your neck between his ankles with incredible flexibility and slamming you to the ground while you were trying to stab him, almost crushing your neck - that scene was replaying in your head, but in this version, he cut off your breathing and you could't get up on time when Joel pushed through. Just as he got into your line of vision to shoot him, however, Gabe reached for the pistol strapped to his thigh and shot Joel in the head; you woke up with a gasp, eyes wide and you were trembling everywhere. You were sweating as if you'd ran a marathon under the sun and your breathing was heavy just as much.
As you laid in the bed, stunned, you heard everything that was being said outside. At first you couldn't hear anything other than your breathing and heartbeat, but as you forced yourself to calm down, the voices got clearer and clearer: It was Walt and Joel.
Your teeth were about to crush from clenching them so tight, you still weren't processing the chatter completely, but you managed to understand only these words:
"If you loved her like I do, you'd wait."
You felt like you were paralyzed on spot, tears rolling out of the corners of your eyes and running down the side of your nose were mixing with the droplets of sweat formed around your face when you heard a soft knock on your door and the opening of it: "Hey..." You were looking bewildered, as if you'd seen some supernatural creature, making Joel alert: "Hey, are you alright?"
You just blinked a couple of times as you shook your head sideways. There was a barbed wire wrapped around your throat, you couldn't reply as he walked to your side, stood just above you and asked: "What's wrong, what happened?"
You were expecting Joel to give you a hug or- just caress your back- anything. But he didn't. He didn't touch you, or call you baby, sweetheart, darling...
Dolly...
For an insane second, the failure you were so afraid of came crashing down along with the lines he spoke outside, making you gasp after realising you'd been holding your breath: "Oh Joel," You finally reached out for him, voice cracking, which reminded him of when he pulled Ellie off of that cannibalistic maniac. He gently took your hand in his and immediately sat down beside you without wasting another second. "I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be sorry, darlin', you got nothing to apologise for." Joel put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest. You were his darlin' again, just like that. His chin rested on your head as you trembled and cried: "You heard what I said, didn't you?" He felt you nod against his chest: "I meant every word of it."
You two stayed like that for awhile. Joel eventually leaned back on the bed with you in his arms and let you snivel, tears of his own rolling down his cheeks and onto your pillow in the meanwhile. His hold never loosened around you: As if, if he let you go at that moment, he'd lose you forever. He suppressed the whines that were stuck in his throat - he didn't want to upset you furthermore, didn't want you feeling guilty than you already were.
"Let me look at you," You whispered after a long time, face pressed against his brown jacket you adored, his scent making it's way into your lungs despite your blocked nose.
Joel reluctantly pulled away then, letting you raise your head so that you could take a proper look at him. His eyes were puffy and wet, just like yours: "You got a lil' something on your nose, miss."
You giggled as he reached for napkins from behind him, stayed quiet and gazed into his eyes as he wiped your nose clean; then he moved onto your wet cheeks, then the corners of your eyes. He was so gentle with you, so gentle, that you almost cried again. He took another napkin and wiped the sweat around your temples, forehead and neck; once he was done, he put the napkin away, then looked into your eyes. You shook your head and looked down, embarrassed: "Will you ever forgive me? I-"
"Shh," Joel carefully grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointing finger, pushed your head up slowly and looked deep into your eyes: "I ain't mad or upset. I would've waited for as long as you needed, if it meant bein' yours again."
Your eyes looked away, feeling more ashamed than ever. After a moment of silence, you figured, you shouldn't be upset any longer -for his sake- and spoke: "Since when were you so fancy with words?"
He chuckled softly: "Ever since I figured you like 'em." You chuckled as well and looked lovingly into his eyes. "Know this, (Y/N): I'd do anything for you. Anything."
You realised then, that a kiss much needed by both parties was long overdue, so you leaned forward and attached your lips onto his, cupping his cheek. He kissed back, passionately and full of emotion with a hint of aching, acknowledging the fact that you'd do anything for him too. Neither of you were aware of Tommy and Ellie watching from the door, the younger Miller smiling to himself, then leaving you two be while your daughter watched her parents, finally reunited and in each other's arms.
Things escalated pretty quickly after that. Your healing improved massively, but the road ahead was still long. Your nightmares were still a thing, but you slept better, so you didn't complain. Everyone's moods had improved as well, the Millers were finally happy which boosted other people's morals. You and Joel did a lot of talking and explaining, promising each other that from then on, you'd be more open to each other about the things that disturb you. Joel had explained how one of Axel's guards had taken his jacket off of him before they left because he knew you'd try to escape and it'd be a convincing trap - you, most importantly, opened up to him about how you felt as you killed the man in question.
"You said that nothing could give you more joy than... killing him," Joel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Did you... did you really mean that?"
You stared and blinked. Of course it hadn't, it could never: "Do you actually think that brought joy to me?" Joel nodded sideways. He knew you didn't enjoy it of course. "You do know that, nothing brings more joy into my life than you- and Ellie, right?" You questioned with a tense expression. Had he really seen through you that clearly to assume that the act of torturing someone gave you joy? But you relaxed when Joel let out a relieved sigh, then nodded up and down. "There's never a single truth spoken on a battle if your aim is to anger or scare your opponent..."
"I know, it's just," Joel looked up at you from where he was seated. "I'd've never thought I'd see you like that. You were... you weren't yourself."
"Were you really surprised?" You asked. "Or were you scared?"
Joel thought on your words for a moment: "I guess... I guess I was scared an' upset. To see you like that- I love you darlin'. I wouldn't want anything makin' you like- like that. I... I almost thought I wasn't-"
It was you who nodded then, letting him sigh in a frustrated manner when he struggled to explain himself, but you understood him: "I know Joel... There are ugly sides to the both of us, but- Trust me, I know."
Tommy was glad Joel had found someone he could comfortably open up to like that, it made him happy to know that his brother was in good hands- your hands, unlike his ex-wife's. A month had passed ever since and you were allowed to leave the infirmary and move back in with your lover. You were able to walk without crutches but you needed someone's help like a pregnant lady who could give birth any minute and, 98% of the time, that someone was Joel, of course.
And as soon as you got home, on a chilly October evening...
"Missed me, did you?" Joel chuckled when you didn't let his hand go after he laid you down on your shared bed. You gave him a shy smile and tugged at his hand, biting your lip as he sat down beside you.
"I'm feeling a lot better because of you," You placed soft kisses on his knuckles. "I wasn't healing properly, you know, before we talked." Joel nodded slowly and returned the gesture on your unoccupied hand - your knuckles, the back of your hand and slowly turning your arm and kissing a trail down to your wrist as you continued: "I've wanted to kiss you for so long, to hold you and to be held by you - I got all of that... But there's another thing I want."
He was no fool, he knew exactly what you meant: "Hm? Whatever could that be?"
"Come closer and I'll tell you," You smirked and that line earned you a hungry kiss as your lover placed himself gently on top of you, getting rid of his clothes in the process.
"Oh, I've wanted this too, would you believe that?" Joel smiled into the crook of your neck as he unbuttoned his shirt.
"Really?" You said, your voice quiet in a whisper, as your fingers went under his shirt and trailed up his ribs. "What a coincidence."
Once his shirt came off and he stood above you, his hungry eyes eating you up with a stare which always had heat pooling between your legs, your playfulness dropped as you took in his features. It had been so long since you'd seen his body, you immediately noticed a few changes: Like a new small scar by the side of his chest and the weight loss, of course: "How much weight did you loose?"
"Well," Joel was caught a little off guard and since you were distracted, he slowly began undoing the buttons of your blouse, invisibly wincing at the few bruises decorating your skin. "I can't exactly know, can I?"
His playful tone put a smile on your lips regardless: "I'm serious Joel- is that a new scar?"
He quickly left your blouse's buttons and dipped down, grinded his aching member against yours, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. When you parted for the sake of getting some oxygen into your lungs, he spoke: "Darlin', it's been some time since we saw each other - it's nothin' to get upset over. Trust me." You nodded and smiled, hands cupping his ass and pushing them up to indicate that you required another kiss, which Joel gladly obliged: "There are more... pressing matters to attend to."
The best part about this sex was, almost nothing hurt. You had taken a good amount of painkillers before you left and, it was like he knew exactly where you were hurt from your encounter a month ago, so he placed his body on yours accordingly. He slowly moved his head down your neck and then to the valley of your breasts, your hands going into his hair as soon as his teeth were nibbling at your nipples, giving each an equal amount of attention which had you soaked already: "Oh Joel-"
"Yes baby," Joel hissed as he planted passionate kisses around your chest, leaving a wet trail on your breasts which he missed very much; he was having a hard time controlling his urge to decorate them along your shoulders and neck with different shades of red and blue, but of course he held back. Your blouse was all the way open as you rubbed your clothed core against his hard cock. Katherine had suggested that you wore a skirt to make things easier for you when you were getting ready to move out, which you had gladly accepted as wearing pants would be uncomfortable difficult... Little had you known it'd make things easier for Joel too.
Your thighs were bare - somehow, only your underwear was covered by the edges of the skirt and the sight almost made Joel moan, much to your delight, so you grabbed him through his underwear and heard the most beautiful sound as a result: "Fuck, (Y/N)," Joel groaned, face twisted up in yearning and pleasure, which inevitably made you moan. "I don't wanna hurt you, baby."
"You won't," You pleaded as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours while settling between your legs, his grip on your thighs were somewhere between hard and soft. "I'll tell you if anything hurts, I promise, but for the love of god, just fuck me Joel."
This was probably a stupid idea. The activity would be too tiring for your body and the last thing Joel wanted to do was cause you distress instead of pleasure, but that was just unfair to the man. It was as if you were provoking him to play rough, because despite what you had told him about letting him know if anything hurt, he still was going to hold back... but what you said afterwards gave him all the permission he needed. Your wish was his command.
His pupils dilated before he lifted your skirt up and dipped his head between your legs, pulling your underwear aside and licking a long stripe up your folds after giving your inner thigh a gentle bite. You gasped loudly, his tongue brushing directly over your clit: "God- fuck!" You were loud, but you didn't care, because he was eating you up just like a man who hadn't eaten anything in a month - which was exactly his case. This felt like the first time again. His tongue expertly worked you to your orgasm, licking between your lips as his beard scratched your inner thighs from time to time; holding you down with his arms around your legs, parting them wider and moving his tongue in a variety of directions as he made you moan over and over again. He hummed against your pussy but suddenly stopped and got up to his knees. You whined at the contact loss, never having felt more disappointed in your life: "Joel..."
He quickly but carefully climbed on top of you, then laid down beside you, diving his fingers between your folds and making them linger around your entrance. With a deep kiss, he inserted a finger into you and you thought you were gonna come right then and there at the feeling. You were partly trapped between his body and the bed and you loved it, moans stuck at the back of your throat as you made out a little roughly, his finger an absolute bliss as it reclaimed its place inside you.
"Joel," You gasped. "More... I need more."
"Hm?" Joel groaned into your ear. "More of what?"
"You- Ah-" You moaned when he inserted a second digit inside your walls, leaving you scratching at his back and possibly leaving a few marks in the process. "Fuck..."
"I bet you missed this, huh?" Joel growled quietly into your ear, grinding his erection to the side of your leg as he stretched you with his thick fingers. "I know I did, seeing you like this..."
"Yes," You moaned, your hand going to grab his cock as he lightly sucked hickeys onto your lower neck and collarbone. Joel moaned when you did, a thrill went down your spine at how hard he was and when he unintentionally thrusted his hips up in your hand, your eyes rolled to the back of your head: "Ohh Joel, t-touch me-"
He thrusted his hips one more time into your hand and as soon as his thumb brushed against your clit, a not so subtle and a rather pornographic moan left your lips, head falling back on the pillows with your grip on his shoulders and nails embedded in his skin. You held onto him for dear life as he fingered you through your orgasm, the wet sounds driving him wild: "There you go, baby, you did so well..."
His words of praise and encouragement weren't lost among your shallow breaths - your body was trembling, not having had such a powerful orgasm in a long time took a toll on you. You'd never seen Joel this desperate and shaky too, like a teenager who was about to have sex for the first time (not that your case was any different).
"Does it hurt?" Joel asked while carefully spreading your legs apart. "When I hold you here?" He grabbed your waist gently - you nodded yes. You weren't exactly sure why it hurt, but you must've taken a few hits there. "Okay... How about here?" His hands smoothly moved to your hips and when you made his hands squeeze a little tighter and noticed you were okay, you nodded no. "Good... I'm gonna turn you over, yeah? Is that okay?"
You nodded, and helped him turn you around and lay your lower body on the pillows. He gently placed your legs as far away from each other without hurting you, exposing your glistening pussy and presenting your ass to him in the perfect angle. A rather animalistic grunt left his lips at the sight, but still he made sure you were okay: "You alright baby?"
"Yes..." You moaned eagerly, secretly not really looking forward to the pain you had to endure for a short while before adjusting to his size again - but you needed him, which was enough to take your mind off the pain. Plus, it was going to be like your first time with him, which was an out-of-earth experience; you were excited that you were going to relive something similar to that again.
At first, his hands pressed down on the bed so he didn't apply pressure to you from anywhere as he lined himself up and pushed slightly. You were already stretched by Joel's thick fingers -which you had missed oh so much- and you were absolutely soaked, it took you only a moment to adjust and let him move deeper into you. He lightly snapped his hips into you, making you moan simultaneously.
"F-fuck-!... You good sugar?" Joel whispered, in an unintentionally seductive tone, which made you clamp down on his length. "Fuck..."
"Yes, yes, yes, Joel-" You whined, absolutely losing your mind over the way he filled you up. "Fuck, ohmygod, please-"
"Shit," Joel growled and started to push in and out of you at a very gentle pace. "You feel so good- Oh Dolly, I'm gonna fuck you so good, darlin'-"
"Yes!" You cried out, tears at the corners of your eyes from the immense pleasure you were receiving. "I'm all yours- ahh~"
Being embarrassed by the noises you made was thrown out of the window a long time ago, thank goodness, otherwise you would've been a little too self-conscious about how loud you were and how much you talked or made noises in general. Joel was exactly in the same state, you two just couldn't keep your mouths shut even if you didn't say a word - neither of you were complaining about the other being loud, of course, it was delightful.
Your jaw hung open when he started going a little faster and harder, your mind going blank at how big and good he felt from this angle, the small bites you felt around the back of your neck wasn't helping your case in any way. You could only hold onto the pillows your head was resting on and moan into the soft material as he reclaimed what was always his.
You could tell he was having a hard time to not grab your hips, or ass, or any part of you; so you decided to spare him the agony and grabbed his wrist which was right next to your head: "Joel, oh- wait..."
"Did I hurt you?" He immediately froze on spot.
"No, no," You reassured him, a whisper of a moan leaving your bruised lips. "Help me up?"
He was confused at what you meant, but quickly got the idea once you pushed yourself on your knees. This position was particularly one of his favourites and you, despite your current state, wanted nothing more than to be railed by this man at the moment and he did it best when he held you close and slammed into you from behind.
You got on your knees and spread them wider, lowering your lower body down while you supported your upper with your arms; Joel immediately pressed his body against yours, hugged your frame with an arm across your chest and pushed into you once more, getting the loveliest sound out of you: "Look at you- couldn't even wait to heal properly..." He growled into your ear, biting the shell of it gently. He groped your breast with the hand on your chest and pinched your nipple between his pointing and middle fingers, which had you throwing your head back right onto the crook of his neck. He kissed your cheek as he continued pounding into you: "You like it when I fuck you like this, huh?"
"Yes," You whined, face twisted up in utter pleasure and somewhat overstimulation. "So good, Joel, so fucking good~"
You felt his hand, which wasn't on your chest, suddenly lift off the bed and sneak down to your clit, causing you to arch your back and have Joel deeper inside you, if that was even possible at this point and a few strokes to your clit had you coming undone around his cock with a high pitched moan.
"Shit," Joel growled and pulled out right before he came, spilling his seed all over your back and ass. The both of you saw the stars because of how powerful the orgasm was, taking a while to recollect yourselves and just panting and trembling. Joel tiredly reached for napkins which were on the nightstand and wiped you clean with them, gently turning you around and laying on your back. He rested his head right below the valley of your breasts, he couldn't seem to catch his breath; you ran your fingers through his hair slowly, looking at the ceiling then chuckling: "Was that too much for you, cowboy?"
He chuckled lightly: "No... maybe..."
You giggled at the exhaustion in his voice, then placed a kiss on the top of his head; a gesture which made him look up, then rise himself a little upwards so he looked directly down at you. You gave him a warm smile and a quizzical look, then, finally he whispered: "(Y/N)..."
"Joel?" You flashed your teeth at him when your smile widened. You really wouldn't know what to do without him, you could confidently say that he was the love of your life.
And, just like he had read your mind, with a shy smile stretched across his lips, he spoke, voice husky yet silvery:
"(Y/N), will you marry me?"
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aceofspadegrass · 3 years
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Pancake Day, but Better
Characters: Niragi Suguru, Dori Sakurada, Last Boss, Cabot, Aguni Morizono, Chishiya Shuntaro, Hatter
Genre: Crack Part 2, now with pancakes.
1.9k words
Prompt: Can you do like a sequel for that dori and niragi crack,cause i want to see dori in pancake day and introducing himself to chishiya,last boss(and catbot)aguni,and hatter. And i have an urge that maybe hatter would like him because how he dresses himself how hatter likes it to be,also chishiya would just go up to niragi and say" Wow, he's actually even more better then you niragi. Maybe he's smarter then you too" As he walks away leaving a a angry niragi - @a-simp-20
(Counts as a Part 2 to this)
*Rubs hands together* Heck yeah, more gentle chaos. Time to gently bully this giraffe lizard man again.
Now with the added addition of pancakes! Fun times for all!
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Despite the laws of the Borderlands and the highly likely chance that nobody knows the actual date that passes by, people still managed to produce what someone offhandedly referred to as the 'Borderlands Holy Day'.
Now, what pray tell was the Borderlands Holy Day? Was it a religion?
Despite the fact that it had 'Holy' in its name, no. It wasn't a religion. Although if someone tried hard enough it could become almost like a cult. Wouldn't be the first time.
So what was it?
Well, obviously.....
It was Pancake Friday. The greatest day of the century. The premise was simple enough: Every Friday everyone gets a pancake. A single pancake. Want more? Well, you better bet and compete for other people's pancakes. The only thing more exhilarating to the members of the Beach than winning games and living another day to party and do fuck-all was Pancake Day.
So, of course, when Friday rolled around, people weren't thinking of anything except the spoils of little bets and competitions over the week, thick fluffy pancakes topped with whatever they pleased and whatever the Beach had in stock at the time. Even Niragi was thinking about pancakes, because what's better than bragging about how many pancakes you got that week?
Nothing, that's what.
Pancake Day was great.
Niragi walks down the corridor with the strut of a man that knew he was feared, and he heads to the dining area where the pancakes would inevitably be given out. People were already there, a few making last minute bets in an attempt to win just a little extra amount for the day. Niragi found it almost amusing. Such a pitiful sight. Niragi himself had already gained a total of four whole pancakes, two of which he won off of some idiot who just thought he was really pretty.
" There's a lot of people here. It must be really important, right?" A smooth voice pipes up from just a little behind him, and Niragi is reminded quite forcefully that he didn't come here alone.
" Of course it's important, it's Pancake Day! Haven't you ever heard of it?" Niragi spat, Sakurada merely shrugging and walking away to talk to other members of the Beach. Niragi scoffs and storms away. At least he didn't have to think about the other him anymore, no matter how neat he looked.
He ends up finding Last Boss standing in the corner by himself, watching everyone else with a self made distance, leaning against his katana. His cat was chilling right besides his foot, apparently having her snack before the pancakes came out and making quiet eating noises. Niragi made sure not to accidentally step on her, which wasn't that hard to do. Niragi stares at Last Boss almost expectantly, waiting for even the slightest hint of a greeting, but all the other man does is stare ahead, lost in his own thought.
So, like a completely normal person would do to a guy ignoring the other, Niragi starts poking Last Boss in the side with his sniper rifle.
" Hey. Hey. Hey. You awake?"
Last Boss just continues to ignore him, and Niragi's pokes get a little harder the more he gets ignored. " Hey! Why are you ignoring me! Come on!"
Last Boss finally looks in his direction, and Niragi grins in victory, Last Boss just staring at him blankly. " Fucking finally, you were ignoring me."
Last Boss just continues to remain silent, but Niragi didn't care, instead putting his rifle back to balance on his shoulder as he looks out among the people still puttering about. Niragi could barely make out that Sakurada guy, who was talking to some random nobodies, Niragi scoffing to himself. He points him out to Last Boss, whose gaze follows the direction of Niragi's slender finger.
" See that one? Yeah, that one busted into my room and kept spraying me with water, the nerve of that guy."
Last Boss mutters something under his breath, Niragi not picking it up properly. He glances at Last Boss suspiciously, Last Boss just continuing to stare off at Sakurada without any sign of emotion on his tattooed face. Niragi groans, and he looks back in the direction of Sakurada, only to see that somehow the bastard has disappeared. Niragi frowns and looks around from where he stood to see whether he could see him again, but no dice.
The area was getting more and more full the longer Niragi tried looking, to the point that he gave up even trying. At some point Last Boss' cat had finished her snack, and he could feel Cabot rubbing her body across his legs as well just for the hell of it. He looks down at the feline, Cabot just doing her own thing like she usually did.
" Hey you little fuck. What's up." Niragi mutters down at the cat, Cabot just continuing on her little rub spree before going over to Last Boss and meowing loudly until Last Boss bent down and picked her up, Cabot resting happily with her butt in the crook of Last Boss' arm and her head and front paws draped over his shoulder.
Niragi rolls his eyes at the sight, and finally the time had come, Hatter walking in with the utmost grace, people cheering him like they do every time they see the man, with Aguni not that far behind. Niragi and Last Boss head towards the little stage Hatter insisted needed to be built for Pancake Day, standing in position as Aguni joins them, Hatter going up to the Pancake Podium.
" Greetings everyone! Today is the glorious and absolutely magnificent Pancake Day! I hope all of you have worked hard to acquire your pancakes!" Hatter shouts with arms outstretched like a bird's, people cheering and whooping excitedly. " I, for one, have a total of five whole pancakes, as throughout the week I have worked hard to get them from my loyal and beautiful members, and that one person who sadly perished in a game and bequeathed their pancakes to me for many months to come! May their soul be at rest, the courage of them~" Hatter announces, the crowd going wild.
" Now, may the pancakes commence!"
People scattered to tables near immediately, and the kitchen doors open as the designated chefs come out with the freshly made pancakes on carts. Niragi and Last Boss end up following Aguni and the rest of the executives plus Hatter to what was apparently the special table, used only by them.
Niragi grins as he leans back in his chair. At least Sakurada would stay away for now-
" Oh, there you are!"
Speak of the devil. Niragi shuts his eyes in annoyance as his clone comes over. Several pairs of eyes shoot to him, and despite his eyes being closed, Niragi could still feel the smug and interested smile Chishiya was giving off.
" Oh? And who are you, you splendid looking being?" Hatter's voice rings out. " Your outfit is immaculate, but I have never seen you before. No, wait...... I have seen you! Except less fancier. And usually with a hat. Who is sitting right there."
Niragi wanted to shoot this man so bad.
"My name is Sakurada Dori, it is very nice to meet you." Sakurada greets them.
Niragi finally bothers to open his eyes as Hatter stands up, and apparently does a quick check over of Sakurada, nodding to himself. " Yes, you are absolutely stunning. I love what you've done!"
" Are you the one that made Niragi take off his hat?" Aguni asks, low and stoic as always. Niragi rolls his eyes at that. He didn't intend to get rid of his hat, Sakurada just kind of yeeted it outside his window without even asking. The nerve of this guy.
Sakurada quickly nods. " I will get him another hat eventually, as I promised, but only as long as he shoots his gun responsibly!"
" Is that so...." Aguni mutters, and just kind of nods like a sort of proud dad.
Hatter grins even wider, and claps Sakurada across the back. " Now that's some courage! Hey, what say you, would you like one of Niragi's pancakes? As a sign of strength!"
" What?!" Niragi shouts, and he stands up, slamming the table. Aguni watches him quietly, as does Last Boss, the latter just staring more than a tired gaze like Aguni was sporting at the moment. " You can't do that!"
" But I can! I'm the leader after all, I can say what I want, and what I want is practically law here, Niragi. Remember who your boss is." Hatter smiles at Niragi in that sort of way that Niragi hated, but a firm tap on his arm by Aguni made him relent, Niragi angrily muttering to himself as he sat back down.
" Ah, thank you very much, but I don't need to take his-"
" Nonsense, you deserve it! Besides, Niragi already gets... how many?"
" Well I had four, but apparently not anymore."
" Three is plenty for you! Anyways, so that means you get two pancakes, you funky little ball of glory!" Hatter states.
" Are you sure? Is that alright with you Niragi?" Sakurada looks to the man, Niragi just grumbling some more.
" Don't worry about him, he'll get over it." Chishiya mentions, and Niragi quickly glares at him, Chishiya casually looking back with that damn smug ass smile on his lips.
" Fucking undercooked egg white." Niragi mutters under his breath, Chishiya just continuing to smirk.
Still, the pancakes arrive to their table, Hatter inviting Sakurada to sit with them for the day so he could talk about fashion, mainly about what kinds of hats the other liked, Sakurada easily falling into conversation with him. Niragi just drowns his now three pancakes in maple sauce, grumbling under his breath.
Last Boss was watching Niragi just nearby, eating his single pancake as Cabot got to treat herself to two whole cat-specified pancakes like she deserved, and goes to whisper to his cat, Cabot flicking her tail a little at whatever Last Boss muttered.
" You have a very nice cat there! It must be enjoying everything since it appears to be very well cared for and happy." Sakurada mentions at one point, Last Boss staring at Sakurada silently. Sakurada just politely smiles back, and Last Boss just slowly blinks, then nods.
" Thank.... you." Last Boss says, and Cabot looks up finally, and bumps her body against Last Boss, the man quietly petting her as Sakurada watches with a happy expression at how sweet the sight was. Sakurada makes small clicking nosies in an attempt to beckon the cat over to him, Cabot meowing and wandering over curiously, sniffing at Sakurada's fingers before letting herself get pet by the man softly. " She seems to like me already!" Sakurada says happily, Last Boss slowly nodding.
" That's good. She likes being pet gently." Last Boss mutters, and even Hatter tried to get in on the cat patting session.
" Hey Niragi." Chishiya's voice catches Niragi's attention, and he looks up at him, already despising of what he was about to spew out from his lips. The limestone fox man just smiles at him, pancakes already gone from his plate.
" The fuck do you want now."
" Your clone is actually way better than you. Perhaps even smarter than whatever half brain you have up there." Chishiya remarks, and with that he stands up and walks away from the table, immediately sliding himself into a group of people leaving and disappearing from his sight.
" YOU LITTLE FUC-" He whips out his gun, ready to chase Chishiya down and kill him like he always wanted to.
Water gets immediately sprayed on his face the second he stands up again, Niragi sputtering. " No. Bad Niragi."
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Monogamous Trap
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Monogamy is yet another game at people trying to continue the cycle of heteronormativity that sadly even the LGBTQIA community falls into the trap for. However, with powerful forces backing this idea ranging from religious doctrines to national laws, it is easy to understand why this entire realm of relationships is brandished.
Under the realm of non-monogamous relationships there are far more than most would like to acknowledge ranging from the number of partners to inherent rules. To start simply is the difference between “-somes” and polyamory. “Three- “, “four- “, etc. -somes are specifically used to reference the idea of an intercourse-based relationship that has little to do outside the bedroom. Pretty much any relationship that has aspects outside the bedroom is more likely to be referenced as a throuple or polyamorous relationship. There are obviously going to be people who do not use the “more standard” language so specifically asking someone about is the best bet in any situation.
Aside from just numbers there is also “attitude” towards the relationship. What I mean by this is whether it is “open” or “closed”, or perhaps somewhere in the middle. An open polyamorous relationship can have a few different concepts such as each individual partner can look for other partners or it might mean the relationship is open to adding new people to it. This concept might be hard to understand if you only view relationships as a line. Instead think about each individual letter in the alphabet and imagine those as ways to depict different relationship set ups, you might be getting close to the vast number of options out there.
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Just based on all of that it almost becomes easier to understand why the community is so misunderstood. There is no guide nor clear idea of what any given relationship would look like. This is one of the big controversial issues as to why the community is not so accepted into LGBTQIA despite clearly being a sexual orientation. This community receives backlash from the queer community as well as from society itself, this is sadly one of the most outcasted sections. This even comes down to the fact that many within the community wonder if this should not be in the community because it should be its own category of identity, relationship style perhaps. In a way it is ironic that it is not considered its own category whereas when looking at the animal kingdom one of the earliest facts for any animal we learn about is what is its mating style- for life or season being one of the largest aspects to that question. So, if we analyze an animal's mating partners why are we so weird about humans having those same sorts of characteristics?
As I mentioned earlier, this could largely come down to the idea of laws and doctrines working to guide the perceptions of “normal” relationship styles. This is a concern for the whole of the LGBTQIA community and yet they cannot even find safety within that community. Despite same sex relationships being actively opposed in most religions, many within the relationships still actively practice, believe, or agree with the ideas presented in their previous religion. This is one of the reasons so many people think it is wrong. Other people completely misunderstand the fundamental concepts of a polyamorous relationship which is communication between all partners. Many people say that these sorts of relationships are simply an excuse to cheat on each other with no consequence. Whereas when examined and understood, these situations are heavily communicated about from beginning to end to ensure all partners are content and satisfied. If someone cheats, they are not protected by the polyamory umbrella if anything they disrupted the core values of the system.
One of my biggest struggles with this community is that lesbians and bisexuals are often overlooked in this community. There is a prevalence or assumption that only gays and straight women primarily operate these kinds of relationships. This dynamic is often turned into the idea that straight women simply want another guy or are willing to let their male partners experiment as opposed to women having this sexuality. Countless articles are written about why men should join a threesome at least once listing off all sorts of benefits, that I do agree with- but that are not dependent on sexual or gender identity. They included:
It forces you to work on jealousy issues.
It forces you to become a better communicator.
Can get different needs met by each partner.
Two heads are better than one (intellectually speaking)
Two Shoulders to cry on
Cuddling
Your family triples.
Your friend group expands exponentially.
You have an additional hand parenting.
The sex
(Zane)
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On the other hand, Females simply looking into this community are deemed to be “sleeping with enemy” which erases the entire concept of a three women relationship, which is entirely possible. This also works to marginalize female bisexuals despite them being approximately 60% of the bisexual population.
This sadly more comes back to gay men being fetishized as well as being more accepted in society due to them being a larger percent from the beginning. Also, celebrity inclusion, with many stars and actors suddenly coming out as being part of throuple with two, if not three, males, exposure is distinctively increasing for them while women are seemingly at a standstill. Stars like, Frankie Grande, brother of pop sensation Ariana Grande, even publicly announced his participation in one of these relationships.
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Frankie even comments on his own impact and inclusion in the community, “A lot of people come up to me and say, “Oh my God, you are in a throuple? I am in a throuple,” ‘the star said. ‘It’s been cool to see people do that as well. Love is love is love is love.’” (‘Love is Love’)
Women even in their sexual identities are still looking to be fully accepted and noticed. Only with time and strong efforts can this hopefully change.
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In Netflix’s new show “Insatiable” is another mainstream media representation of polyamory which ironically very accurately depicts the plights within this realm. “During the season finale, Bob A. [left in the above picture] speaks about his poly relationship (at this point still intact), explaining how embracing his identity as a poly bisexual man makes him feel "loved completely" and fully "satisfied."” (Foreman) This was a wonderful depiction of what polyamory actively works to achieve, a balance between the partners that allows each of them to feel satisfied and safe within the relationship. In contrast, “Bob B. [right in the above picture] unexpectedly breaks up with them. He explains, "I didn't agree to a relationship. I just thought the three of us would have sex sometimes so she would not feel left out.”” (Foreman) Whereas this shows the darker side of it, where certain relationships/individuals do not understand the poly individual(s). This specific instance Bob B. Believes Bob A. to be completely gay, negating his bisexual identity, as well as preventing him from balancing the two relationships to at least meet his desires. This especially shown when the women (center of image) and non-polyamorous Bob (right) confront the bisexual and polyamorous Bob(left) into picking only one of them when it is clear throughout the entire series, he truly loves both.
Resources:
Barrett, Kim. “Does Polyamory Fall Under the LGBT+ Umbrella?” Medium, Polyamory Today, 25 Jan. 2020, medium.com/polyamory-today/polyamory-and-the-lgbt-community-3a8a52debbc3.
Foreman, Alison. “We Need to Talk about That Throuple in 'Insatiable'.” Mashable, Mashable, 20 Aug. 2018, mashable.com/article/insatiable-throuple/.
Lewis, Jessi, et al. “The Great Divide: Polyamory, 'Throuples' and the LGBTI Community.” Star Observer, 18 Dec. 2016, www.starobserver.com.au/features/in-depth-features/great-divide-polyamory-throuples-lgbti-community/154564.
Outmagazine. “10 Reasons Every Gay Man Should Try a Throuple Once.” OUT, 17 Oct. 2018, www.out.com/lifestyle/2018/10/17/10-reasons-every-gay-man-should-try-throuple-once#media-gallery-media-1.
Rosenblum, Karen Elaine, and Toni-Michelle Travis, editors. The Meaning of Difference. 5th ed., McGraw-Hill Education, 2008.
Tabberer, Jamie. “'Love Is Love': Frankie Grande Reveals All about His Three-Way Relationship.” Gay Star News, 23 Nov. 2018, www.gaystarnews.com/article/love-is-love-frankie-grande-reveals-all-about-his-three-way-relationship/.
Wandrei, Karin E. “'Sleeping with the Enemy': Non-Monogamy and 1970s Lesbian-Feminists - Karin E Wandrei, 2019.” SAGE Journals, journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/1363460717750074.
Image:
“Polyamory Infinite Heart Love Honesty Communication Vinyl: Etsy: Polyamory, Polyamory Relationships, Polyamory Quotes.” Pinterest, www.pinterest.com/pin/144326363036694494/.
“Throuple.” Facebook, www.facebook.com/pages/category/Musician-Band/Throuple-645110832488889/.
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reallybadfeeling · 3 years
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My Obikin Playlist Masterpost Part 2
Not that anybody was really waiting for this, but here is the second part of the playlist with an explanation for each song. If you are interested in reading my rant on the first 20 songs, you can check the post I made last week HERE.
Without further ado, I'll leave you to my rant for songs 21 to 40.
☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧
❧ One in a Million - Midnight to Monaco
Tears fall like acid rain and it burns me through the skin It's taken everything from me, I've lost my innocence The bats brings the night today, watch them turn the sky to black Like a gun that fires that sound again Frightens me until the bitter end I can't keep holding on And I hide away I need it to keep me from breaking down And I'm under Baby I can't carry on, dead and I've been buried on Baby, I was one in a million Even if our love was strong, take me down and let it fall Baby, I was one in a million And I was holding, burning, waking, turning Tasting blood and losing time I want to get a hold of myself Baby, I was one in a million [...] And I need it to keep me from thinking I won't find my wings no more
This entire song is about how someone's life gets absolutely destroyed by drug abuse. Or at least, that's how I always interpreted this. But drug abuse always makes me think about any kind of obsessions doing exactly the same thing. So I love this song for Anakin in particular. That "I was one in a million" giving me this "Chosen One" vibe. Like he got lost on the way to what he was supposed to be, and now that he's fallen he has no clue how to get back to what he was supposed to be, that one in a million.
❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣
❧ Losing My Religion - R.E.M.
The lengths that I will go to The distance in your eyes Oh no, I've said too much I set it up That's me in the corner That's me in the spotlight Losing my religion Trying to keep up with you And I don't know if I can do it Oh no, I've said too much I haven't said enough [...] Every whisper, of every waking hour I'm choosing my confessions Trying to keep an eye on you Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool [...] Consider this the hint of the century Consider this the slip That brought me to my knees, failed
Another classic song that is in basically any ships' playlist. And it fits so much with unrequited love (or pining in general). How can I not think of Obi-Wan trying desperately to be a good Jedi while he's well aware of his feelings for Anakin?
❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣
❧ Hurt Me - Lapsley
Can't look at you the same way, anticipatin' heartbreak And I know, and I know, and I know I'm puttin' on a brave face to meet you in the same place And I know, and I know, and I know Gotta let my mind find another space 'Cause I heard these scars never go away And now I'm runnin' out of ways to numb the pain So if you're gonna hurt Why don't you hurt me a little bit more? Just dig a little deeper Push a little harder than before [...] Like breathing underwater, what's the law and order? I don't know, I don't know, I don't know You're sitting in a corner, hiding til it's over And it shows, and it shows, and it shows Buildin' up my walls just to tear them down Tell me that it's love, force me to drown Buildin' up my walls just to tear them down Tell me that it's love And I thought you said you still loved me [...] And I'm counting down the seconds that we have I can see the end in sight, at last So if you're gonna hurt me Why don't you hurt me a little bit more?
This entire song makes me think of one of those situations where both of them are pining and convinced that the other is about to tell them something that would end up breaking their heart. Basically first half is Obi-Wan knowing from the start that they won't work, maybe because he thinks Anakin is in love with Padmé and that's what Anakin wants to talk about; second half is Anakin, sure that Obi-Wan would deny having feelings for him because of how much he loves being a Jedi so he tries to be a better Jedi for the sake of Obi-Wan. Because I love the trope of both of them being too oblivious to realize they are in love.
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❧ The Shelter of My Love - Astropol
When you have nothing to lose No one dear and no one to care for Non one sees you but I do I'll take you in I won't let you go Oh the middle of the night Black as tar and eager to hold you Just as pretty as my love Just as hungry Just as eternal [...] When you have no bridge to burn No place to go, no place to return to No one loves you like I do I love you [...] When you have nothing to lose And nightfall comes, eager to hold you No one loves you like I do I love you I love you, I love you Oh shelter of my faith All the peril, all the weight Mighty glorious The shelter of my faith Oh shelter of my trust All the longing, all the lust God will help you if you lost the shelter of my trust
I'm perfectly aware that this is a song about faith. It's basically like a call to pray because even when you are lost the one person that will always be there for you is God. BUT, this actually works pretty well for the Jedi Order too. And if we think of how Anakin joined the Jedi, how he felt like the only thing he would lose is his mother, it kinda makes sense with these lyrics. And even Obi-Wan: he was given to the Jedi when he was so young that that's the only life he knows. At the same time, it can be about Anakin and Obi-Wan finding that solace in each other too, because sure, the entire Order is there to support them. But it's almost like it's their last option to them, because when in need the first person they go to is the other.
❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣
❧ The Night We Met - Lord Huron
I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt I've been searching for a trail to follow again Take me back to the night we met And then I can tell myself What the hell I'm supposed to do And then I can tell myself Not to ride along with you I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met
You should know me by now. If a song that is basically perfect for Obi-Wan post RotS, I'm gonna find it. And this one is just PERFECT! Like, Obi-Wan absolutely feels like he owes something to the universe because he is the one who failed Anakin, who allowed him to fall. So I imagine him wanting a do-over, a chance to stay away from Anakin so that Anakin can be better and his own heart can't be broken in such a terrible way. Basically, this is also perfect for a time traveler Obi-Wan trying to fix things from day 1.
❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣
❧ Danger - JKAY feat Shola Ama
I'm a million reasons in And I'm going out on a limb But I can't, no I can't deny Cause I, I fell in love with danger And I think I found a stranger in you The boy that I knew, left me torn into two And I don't know what to do
Nothing fancy about this one, just Obi-Wan realizing there is a wild side to the cute, totally unable to flirt young teenager he took care of for so long. Basically something to write smut on. You all know you need these kind of songs too. (And I picked the acoustic version because it gives me more soft love-making vibes, but the original one is perfect for a more passionate kind of mood).
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❧ Amandoti - Giovanni Lindo Ferretti
Loving you makes me weary, guts my insides (It’s) Something that feels like laughing in tears Loving you makes me weary, it makes me sorrowful What can you do (about it), that’s life That’s life, my (life) [...] Loving you comforts my sleepless nights It’s something that replaces old dead flames Loving you comforts me, it gives me joy What can you do (about it), that’s life But (that) life is my life Love me once more, do it softly One year, one month, one hour (Do it) Hopelessly Love me once more, do it softly Just for an hour But let it be forever
I was forced to put the live version from the original composer in the playlist, but a couple of weeks ago I posted a link to Maneskin's cover of this song (which, isn't on Spotify). You can check it out HERE, with a full translation of the lyrics (yes, Italian songs will always be a thing for this playlist, get over it). Like I said in the tags of that post, this is just another one of those songs that give me post RotS Obi-Wan feels. Just him all alone and heartbroken wishing he could feel Anakin's love just once more. Simply perfection.
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❧ Lemon Eyes - Meg Myers
Hush now baby, there's no need to cry Let me wipe away those lemon eyes All your worries, such a waste of time You can't even see how much you're mine You're so bitter, bitter, bitter, yellow Settle, settle, got to settle down, okay Listen, listen, you listen, yellow It's a killer, a killer, a killer jealousy Lemon eyes, you're mine Yellow eyes, all mine I bet you wanna walk away, run away, look away, turn away Honey you can't hide Lemon eyes, all mine
Do I even have to explain this? It's basically perfect for all of Anakin's issues with jealousy, but with what yellow eyes mean in this fandom it could absolutely be about Sith!Anakin. It's just such a fitting song for these two, with Obi-Wan trying to reason with a very unreasonable Anakin... (And I might have anonymously suggested to someone to listen to it as a good song for their fic. *coff coff* @tennessoui *coff coff*)
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❧ 10 Years - Daði Freyr
We've been together for a decade now Still everyday I'm lovin' you more If I could do it all again I'd probably do it all the same as before I don't wanna know what would've happened If I never had had your love I didn't became myself before I met you I don't wanna know what would've happened If I never had felt you love Everything about you, I like We started out so fast Now we can take it slower Love takes some time Takes a little time, so take a litte time As it ages like wine [...] And just when I thought that my heart was full I found place that I never explored You're so fascinating And I can't remember the last time I was bored [...] How does it keep getting better? Everyday our love finds a new way to grow The time we spend together Simply feels good We got a good thing going
How could I not put this song in this playlist? Like, it can literally be about how in the many years together, their love for each other grew and grew, and changed to get better with time. But it can also be just Anakin and Obi-Wan in an established relationship, since this is technically a song about a ten years anniversary. I just LOVE IT. It's super sweet and we all need fluff sometimes.
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❧ Different Kind Of Love - Kid Runner
It was always you there Dancing towards me Grabbing both my hands like Here we go, here we go again Maybe it was destiny We were so familiar But you caught me staring And I don't know, I don't know, I guess [...] And when you're near me I can't help but be under your spell Can I make you believe you're the only one I need? [...] It must've been something A switch in my brain It kept me in motion It drove me insane It must've been something Something you said You're pulling me under Holding me close Inside my head Oh, it's a different kind of love And when I see your face I know, I know You got me going Oh, and this could be enough I'm dreaming wide awake I know, I know
Classic friends to lovers AU song that works wonders with Anakin's kind of love, all obsessive and stuff. Definitely can picture teen Anakin pining over Obi-Wan to the tune of this, all awkward boners at absolutely inappropriate times and Obi-Wan never truly pointing it out, because he doesn't want to make Anakin even more uncomfortable.
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❧ Ruthless - GIRLI
Home? What's that? I got a doll's house with a few cracks Grew too tall, now I'm poking out the attic My feet are in the basement 'cause I never wanna hack it Life, what's that? Life, what's that? [...] Take my soul, Take me down Take me back to the beginning of this when I was still innocent Me, sorry who? I'm a kid in a grown-up suit Looking in the mirror tryna figure out who's Banging on the glass 'cause they're tryna break through Is it me? Is it you? Think it's me, wish I knew Take me, use me, screw me over Play me like I like losing Trip me, trick me, drug me Say you love me but you like cheating You're the only one to blame You made me this way Guess that's why I'm so damn Ruthless You made me, you made me You made me ruthless You made me, you made me You made me ruthless Only way to do it When you break me and I lose it Oh, you made me You made me so damn fucking ruthless [...] Yeah it's tragic All the bad bits Made me so damn ruthless No, it's not me I don't wanna be Ruthless
Being a woman, I know perfectly that this song is about how sometimes women have to grow up to be mean because of all of the abuse they go throw in their life. But I kind of see Anakin as this person that would absolutely blame everyone else for his fall to the Dark Side and this works so well! Like, the doll house is a metaphor for how the Jedi Order was supposed to be his home, but in the end he felt like he was used, like the Jedi told him they loved him just to trick him into doing whatever they wanted, basically cheating him of a simpler life with his mom. And even the looking in the mirror thing could be when he's already in the Vader suit and he doesn't know if Vader is what he was supposed to be all along or somewhere inside him there's this young innocent child trying to get out. What can I say, most of the times I have Obi-Wan feelings. But every once in a while I find something twisted enough to give me Anakin/Vader feelings too.
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❧ All or Nothing - Wild Youth
I remember when we were younger We used to stay up late We used to watch the sun go down, the sun go down Yeah at night I, I think about ya How I spent so long living without ya You're all I need, the air I breathe So hold tight, I'm coming 'Cause it's all or nothing I'm a million miles away and I feel so low I've been driving all night just to get back home to you To you See the sunrise, it's a classi break Driving down roads that I used to take with you With you Every streetlight, new horizon Start to wonder if you realise Oh, we were vain, was more than friends So hold tight, I'm coming 'Cause it's all or nothing
Okay, this is kind of perfect for a very specific kind of AU. Like, the "they used to be childhood friends, then got separated by life, but they were always meant for each other, so after meeting once by chance after years separated, they can't go back to their life, they have to stay with the other" kind of specific AU. The song might work with how the Clone Wars kept them separate too, but... yeah. It's kinda specific. Sorry not sorry.
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❧ Someone Like You - Noah Kahan feat. Joy Oladokun
Guess I'm a mess now Lost with my head down I haven't heard from you in weeks You must have left town I can't go back now And all that I have now Are those feelings I felt Knowing that no one else can bring them back out And I've been trying to find a silver lining But I can't But I can't Now that I can't hold you I wish that I had tried to Do more not to lose you Now that I can't find you Because the second you left, yeah the voice in my head screamed "What did I do?" Now you're gone and all I want is someone like you
Once again, ignoring that this is a song about a couple breaking up after one of the two cheated because this is also perfect for Anakin confessing his love for Obi-Wan as soon as he's a Knight. He was sure that would make Obi-Wan accept his love and try to get in a relationship, instead Obi-Wan panicked and asked to get sent as far away from Anakin as he could. So of course Anakin is filled with regret about his confession.
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❧ Big Boy - Charlotte Cardin
Maybe if I spell it out Big boy will take me on proper You nailed my heart to your wall You never dusted off after [...] Maybe if I'm a broken wing Big boy in my nest You nailed my heart to your wall And disposed of the rest of me With your push and shove Like what's love ain't love But it's love to me My boy is not a man yet My boy is not a man yet But boy do I love it when you kiss my neck Oh boy last night was perfect You're changing my mind Like what's mine ain't mine Be mine to be Maybe if we try again Big boy we could have it my way You nailed my heart to your wall But it was damaged anyways
Another song to write smut to, but smut with feels. Mainly Obi-Wan's, that maybe feels like Anakin played with him just so that they could sleep together, but never actually tried to put a pin on what their relationship is supposed to be after. And Obi-Wan realizes that part of the reason is that Anakin is still so young and maybe he's the one that made a mistake. Like, he's not even sure that what he feels is real, but he still keeps following what Anakin wants because what is the alternative after all?
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❧ Home with You - Marie Dahlstrom
Happy to be home with you Happy to wake up with you Even after all that you've benne through Happy that you feel the same Hope that I can ease the pain Happy to come by 'Cause you just give me life And I love spending time with you It's easy when I want you like that I don't regret it even if you might think That I've got Plenty other reasons in my head Plenty other questions still unsaid Nobody knows where you'll go but I'm here [...] I don't understand it all Still I will accept your flaws Just the way that you're accepting mine No, I'm not really one to judge We can laugh it off because It's just one life for you and I and I know [...] Feels so good when it's You by my side I could just stay all night I could just stay all night I love the things you do Nobody knows where we'll go but I'm here Baby, whenever you need me Baby come over, baby come over Whenever you need I will always be by your side
This song can honestly fit multiple things. It can absolutely be Obi-Wan accepting that Anakin reaches out for him only in certain situations and him always being open to it, no matter how their relationship isn't really the traditional kind of relationship (like, a friends with benefits kind of deal). But it can also be Obi-Wan and Anakin getting together when Anakin is already Vader, so Obi-Wan is slowly falling to the Dark Side too. You can also just use this as another song to write soft love making too since it's so slow and soft. Or just do whatever you want with it.
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❧ Hands Tied - Beatrich
You got me home sick for your arms The arms that keep me close But you just slip though my fingers Like I'm tryna catch a ghost I'd travel to the moon and back For you and all that you could say is That you didn't ask for that You'd never ask I'd travel to the moon and back For you and all that you could say is That you didn't ask for that You'd never And you stand there Looking at me with my hands tied And how foolish Foolish of me to let this one slide I'm terrified The roots are way too deep And there is no way out You just stand there Looking at me with my hands tied
Huge vibes of Anakin being mad in love with Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan pushing him away because he sees Anakin as a brother, not as a lover. And there's all kind of pining from Anakin because of the unrequited love and he tries to do crazy stuff for Obi-Wan hoping he will fall in love with him but it fails... Yeah, that's the angst that hurts in the best way! (But, you know, can totally be reversed to Obi-Wan in love with Anakin in a canon scenario with Anakin married to Padmé.)
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❧ Same Bed - Lola Young
I'm too quick to judge, too fast to fuck If we're lonely and I'm No good in love, 'cause the last time I ended up a little dead inside Sorry I lied, I do not want you, no Sorry my pride's a little too high To let you know I cried when you said you had to go, baby [...] (whispered) Fuck then, don't do this to me now Don't say my name when you're talking to me Don't say we're on the same page Don't look away when you walk into me I like the pain, I like the pain I'm making it hard for you to move on And be lonely 'cause I'm So good with words that the last time I broke his heart [...] I got a bit drunk yesterday evening and I Told you some things I didn't mean, oh did I? Hate it, I hate it when I get complacent I love it when you pull that face and we make mistakes Utterly wasted And wake up in the same bed In the same t-shirt I told you I loved you in The same regrets Like wearing the t-shirt I told you I love you in [...] I only like you when you're naked At least, that's what I proved to myself Can't make a fool of myself, baby God, it's so frustrating, making such a fool of myself Gotta make do with myself, baby I only like you when you're naked At least, that's what I proved to myself You make a fool of myself, baby Let's overcomplicate it, maybe just lose ourselves
Back with the complicated relationship and the angst. Can see this in a canon compliant AU with both Anakin and Obi-Wan not really wanting to admit they are in love with each other, but somehow they always end up sleeping together, and telling the other how much they love them just to regret all of it the day after. Basically making things complicated for no reason other than Obi-Wan not wanting to break the rules/his belief that he's meant for infinite sadness, but also because Anakin can't give up on this twisted love despite how much it hurts him and being petty in trying to make Obi-Wan suffer just as much.
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❧ Ghost - Harper
Not putting lyrics here because this entire song gives me Obi-Wan on Tatooine post-RotS vibes. Like, he's literally on the planet Anakin came from, there to protect Anakin's kids. OF COURSE he sees Anakin's "ghost". Like, he sees so much of Anakin in Luke when he grows up. And it feels kind of fitting as a punishment for Obi-Wan to be slowly going crazy because he keeps being haunted by this image of Anakin around him. Literally this line: "why you gotta make me weak to make me stronger". That's Obi-Wan trying to get over this love for Anakin and realizing that he has to mourn and suffer before he becomes stronger and able to get free from this ghost's hold. (But, you know, Anakin's ghost might even be actually Anakin, in a scenario where Anakin is actually trapped inside of Vader and trying to get free by reaching out to Obi-Wan for help.)
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❧ Qualcosa di Grande - Cesare Cremonini
What happened, you changed You are not the same Or are you still the one That grew up with me What happened, you ran away And with you so did my life I searched for it, I searched for it But I found it only in you There's something important between us That you can never change Not even if you want to But there's something important between us That you can never forget Not even if you want to What happened, you fell You fell too low and now you try to climb back up But it's a struggle you don't want [...] What happened, your light Your light is obscured By someone that I know And that took you away from me What happened, your star Your star eclipsed And now (I dare you to) shine from the darkness without me
Yet another song that gives me RotS feels. It's obviously a break up song, a song about regrets and struggling to move on. So of course in it I see Anakin falling to the Dark Side and Obi-Wan trying to remind him of what is between the two of them so that Anakin comes back to him. (If you want to read the complete translation, you can check it out here.)
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❧ Dark Side - Phoebe Ryan
At your worst, you're the best Baby I don't want another version, no Hard to love, hard to trust But don't change Don't be a better person for me 'Cuz I'm in love with your dark side I'm in love with your dark side So don't turn on the light [...] Even if it hurts, I want you heart Even at your worst, I love you hard If you wanna keep me, go too far
Another song that is more of a both!Sith AU but also something Vaderwan would work honestly. I like the twisted nature of this kind of love so much in fics. Can absolutely works with any version of Anakin or/and Obi-Wan being the bad guy in the story.
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All done! All 20 new songs I added to the original playlist explained away. Like last time, I hope you find any of this entertaining or useful. If any of this inspires your creativity, don't be shy and tag me on your stuff. I'll gladly read it/watch it/enjoy it.
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momowho34 · 3 years
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Ever wondered whats actually in the Old Testament? Well that’s the only testament my religion has! Heres a summary of the Tanakh (old testament) from a jewish lens. I’ve read a lot of these books because I have nothing better to do so I mostly know what I’m talking about. Come on down to Judiasm, we have
The Big Five
The Book of Bereshit (Genesis): the world gets made then flooded and uh oh family drama fuck don’t get more then one wife these people need family therapy oh god oh no
The Book of Sh’mot (Exodus): pssst hey kid, want some freedom??? Wanna fucking starve and die in the desert??? Hey kid, wanna be free to suffer and die???? Or stay where you are as a slave and die a little more every day???? Also leprosy bad don’t do it be nice and have more babies lots of babies the population is at like 17 people right now-
The Book of Vayikrah (Leviticus) we’re going to the promised land I swear, part 1, also learning how to have your own agency as a human being and how to live as a good person now that you’re free. Also hygiene. Remember to bathe you fucks. Basically, the people ask god for laws, and oh boy, does he deliver.
The Book of Bamidbar (Numbers): we’re going to the promised land I swear, part 2, with more rules this time! Soooo many rules. Like too many. Like so many, mostly of the “don’t steal Sherman’s cow even if you really really want it because god keeps a tally of that shit and it’s really not good for your long term health”
The Book of Shevarim (Deuteronomy): more rules, repeat of everything god said, it’s a little doom and gloom, but hey, we finally made it to the fucking promised land! It should be a peice of cake from here on out!
The Interesting But Far Less Impactful Ones
The Book of Yoshua (Joshua): well... we finally made it. Things have gone... alright.... so far, I bet things are gonna be just fine.
The Book of Shoftim (Judges): things get legendarily worse. There are dismembered limbs everywhere. Ain’t pretty. Israel change leaders like a girl changes clothes, and these leaders are (including but not limited to): stabby-stabby left handed guy, a Woman [gasp], whatever the fuck Gideon was supposed to be, basically a pirate whose mom is a prostitute, and mr. strong man don’t cut his hair. Seriously.
The Book of Shmuel 1 and 2 (Samuel I-II): look just... shit goes down. Saul is a shit king so the random ass peasant child David becomes the king of Israel and is a hilarious disaster of a man. A lot of civil wars. A lot of David being a dramatic bitch. These are my favorite books I kind of cried in the beginning when Jonathan died. Hijinks ensue. Things go... okay for a while.
The Book of Malachim 1 and 2 (Kings I and II): Oho boy. David’s son Solomon becomes king, he builds the temple, he’s a fine king until he’s not, Judah splits off from the other tribes and becomes their own kingdom, Elijah gets really tired of babysitting all of these kings all the time, it’s a nebulous time period.
The Books of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Hosea, Ezekiel, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habbakuk, Zephaniah, Zachariah and Malachi: okay, this is... a lot. Most of these books are various essays made by prophets trying to convince people to stop doing whatever sin was prevalent at their time. A lot of it’s boring and not really relevant anymore. Except for Habbakuk, Habbakuk tries to have a fist fight with god, god answers his questions, he leaves satisfied. I think the temple gets ganked at some point and the Israelites get massacred so hard only Judah’s tribe, Benjamin’s tribe, and bits of Levi survive and everyone else faces exile. Anyway that’s booooring let’s move on
End of the Story (Last Section Part 1)
[imma start with some of the later books because they’re relevant to the earlier books and closure is important]
The Book of Daniel: Local Man is almost killed in every way you can think of but god protects him and he pursues his dream... of becoming a Persian bureaucrat. Not kidding.
The Book of Ezra: they return to the land! They rebuild the temple!! The Jews are sort of kind of a thing again!!!
The Book of Nehemiah: except Jerusalem is a wasteland and a perfect target for bandits so Nehemiah has the genius idea of building a wall around the city so awesome and cool that no one will ever mess with them again. Nehemiah is really good because it’s about healing and connection and redemption and all that good shit. Broken people trying to put their lives back together by connecting to their past. Makes me fucking cry damn it-
Miscellaneous (Last Section Part 2)
Lamentations: Jerusalem is fucked. It’s bad. Everything is bad. Again. Oh well. Better luck next time.
Esther: the Jewish queen of Persia manages to outsmart an evil guy who wants to kill her people yayyyyy
Ecclesiastes: its just a philosophy book with a disembodied narrator who was probably Solomon.
Psalms: David is extra and he wants you to know it so he wrote 150 verses of praise to god cause he felt like it
Proverbs: Solomon wants everyone to be good people, the usual.
Song of Songs: okay listen, this is basically a love poem supposedly written by Solomon, and it is like... really horny and genuinely kinda sweet at times. Weird book, don’t know why it’s here
Ruth: a converted immigrant widow follows her mother in law into Israel and marries a pretty cool guy named Boaz. That’s it.
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Promised Part 3 (The Great Mini series)
Pairing: Grigor Dymov x fem! Reader
Word Count: 8K (more on the thicc side. So be ready)
Summary: You are bethrothed to the Russian Count Grigor Dymov in order to secure an alliance for your family and people with Russia from breaking. The day has finally arrived, your wedding day and night and all that entails
Part One//Part Two
Smut Scene for this Part (18+ only please)
Warnings:  Typos!!!! mentions of sex, marriage, family, swearing, dogs, Emperor Peter being Emperor Peter, drinking, drunkenness, weddings, and religion. The fear of rape is briefly discussed.
A/N: It’s finally here! Yay for wedding fics! For a few notes, I based the wedding ceremony from Russian Orthodox practices (since that is the religion obviously in the show of the court) so if I get something wrong about anything sacred, please drag me gently. Second, the gift mentioned in the middle part is, fun fact! An actual historical practice between couples! (I just though it would enhance the story). And third, I decided not to include a smut scene for those reading this fic underage...that part will be worked on and published separately. Fourth, I am thrilled and overwhelmed with all of the love shown for this miniseries. I am having a ball writing it! Enjoy!
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Russian Wedding ceremonies were making your head turn. Already there were so many things to do you wondered if you could remember them by tomorrow. And this was the only rehearsal you had.
The tall priest, who you found out was called Archie, stood before you both. He practiced speaking a monotone blessing and made the sign of the cross over you.
“Next, you’ll be given candles…” he advised, waving his hands out.
Two men walked by to hand you both a candle (“for the ceremony, they will be lit, but they aren’t. So just be careful.”) You recognized that Arkady gave Grigor his candle and the bespectacled man you have seen greeting you when you entered handed you yours.
“Thank you…uhm…sorry, I’ve seen you around, but…” you asked.
“Count Orlo, Lady Y/L/N”, he greeted, with a polite nod.
“Thank you Orlo,” you muttered.
“Of course! Well, welcome to Russia! If you need any-”
Archie glared at Orlo icily until he scurried away, head ducked in embarrassment.
“Now let us continue…”
He said a line of scripture in a way that seemed mystical, close to ecstasy, his eyes closed and hands open to the sky. After a while, the droning lost its magic pull and became dull.
You and Grigor glanced at each other, making sure Archie wasn’t able to notice in all his holiness.
“We have to practice the puppy after this- would you like to see?” you whispered.
“I’d take watching paint dry over this, of course I want to see!” Grigor replied.
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“Just give her a bit of chicken,” Count Arkady advised.
You and Grigor nodded. You leaned down to stroke the fur of your little gift. She had trotted over cheerfully when either your or Grigor said “come,” prancing as if she was the one who owned the little apartment you and your mother were staying in. Arkady handed a gold bowl of cold, roast chicken meat that you tossed to the puppy every time she did as you said. Yout mother sat in a corner, silently watching everything, but present to make sure nothing inappropriate was going on.
“Very good…now, what is your little one’s name again? I can never remember,” he asked, politely ducking his head to sneeze into a handkerchief.
The puppy looked up at you and smiled.
“I’m calling her Sonya. It’s the Russian version of Sophie, our Empresses old name. And she was the first friend I met here. Besides, it’s a Russian name and she’s a Russian dog,” you explained.
“Very well, Sonya- sit!” Arkady ordered, his handkerchief falling delicately from his free hand.
He held up a small bite of roast chicken clear enough where she could see it. She sat again. He handed it over to you and you tossed it to the floor. Wagging her tail, she ate it up.
“Good girl, Sonya! Good girl!” you praised.
So far Sonya had not caused too much trouble. The servant for Grigor had often took her out to do business when she needed it. She did bark, chew on everything, and leave droppings on the floor sometimes. But the first night in your apartments, you had trouble sleeping in this strange new place. Little Sonya hopped up on the bed and curled up next to you as you laid awake. Her warmth and licking kisses on your face were welcome when your anxious mind was trying to make you awake. And soon you slept with her little body nestled on top of your stomach.
“Keep this up, and soon you will have a trained dog. The secret is to reward them every time they’re good and be careful with discipline,” Arkady advised.
Grigor nodded. He leaned down to pick up the Sonya and scratch her head. You could not help but notice that the party man Georgiana warned about had a kind smile to the little animal. Maybe she was exaggerating to scare you.
Arkady walked over to where a serf held up a laundry basket and got rid of his handkerchief.
“She hasn’t been a bother, I hope,” Grigor turned to ask, seeing how your teacher was distracted.
“You’ll soon find out…I’m joking, she has been fine. Energetic, but fine. Nothing out of normal for a puppy,” You answered.
Arkady took it to the next serf, advising him on kinds of ways it should be cooked for the notabilities’ dogs next time. The serf sighed and nodded before leaving. He turned around gracefully, clapping his hands, and rubbing them loudly.
“How are you both feeling!? You do know what is happening tomorrow…” he teased.
You could not forget. And you wanted to. The wedding was already tomorrow.
“Yes, well…we’ve already rehearsed the ceremony this morning and…we’ll…we’ll be ready!” Grigor said.
“The candles? The crown? Hopefully, you are prepared to kiss in front of all of court, they’ll ask for that! My Tatyana and I kissed fifty times at ours!” Arkady added on sheepishly.
You put your hand to your face to hide it in embarrassment. The days past mostly consisted of eating at small dinners and teas at least with you, sometimes Grigor, and your mother or walking through the gardens with some small talk between the three of you. His arm was offered for you to hold when you walked together. But that was the most of touching you both had done. Those and the chaste, formal kisses on the cheek or hand.
“We’ll be ready, for everything,” Grigor answered.
He went over to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in slight worry at your silence. You felt a slight dizziness from how soon everything would be
Arkady dismissed himself and left, and your mother got up from her seat in the corner to see him out. You turned to Grigor, face feeling warm.
“Are we ready to…to kiss in front of everyone? Perhaps we can make it work…”
Although you bit the inside of your cheek and folded your hands, eyes darting from the floor to his face and back again.
“I…I don’t think I am…” he said. “It’s been, uh, a little while.”
He was careful to not mention or talk about Georgiana unless prompted and you thanked your stars for that. It felt like being a mouse under the eye of a hungry hawk with her walking by in corridors.
“I know we can make this work, at least for everyone we know and the alliance,” you said. “Maybe we can…practice. At least for the ceremony.”
As your mother turned around to see you both chatting, Sonya went up to her, to greet her with a bark and a wag of her curling tail. Grigor stepped forward to her.
“Lady Y/L/N, can I have your consent to kiss Y/F/N? I’d like to do it before dinner, so I don’t reek of onions,” he offered.
Your mother looked at you both, then nodded.
“Alright, I don’t see why not. But no tongues.”
You turned to him, a little unsure of what to do. Your mother and Sonya watching closely.
“I don’t know what to do with my arms,” you confess.
He took both of your hands.
“We can just hold hands for now…” he advised.
“Then you have to lean forward, right?” you asked.
“Right.”
Leaning your face forward, you could make out the dust of freckles across his nose. He paused a little. You kept still. Then looking at each other’s eyes, he gave you a slight nod and both of you went in for a peck on the lips. It was so quick, so light, it was like gulping air.
Your hands immediately relaxed and let go. A rush of exhaling air left both of you.
“Alright, would you like me to ring for tea? After dinner, you both cannot see each other until after the ceremony,” your mother offered.
She scooped the puppy in her arms and carried her over one shoulder.
“That…that sounds nice,” he added.
“Shouldn’t you be with the Emperor? Weren’t you going to drink with him?” you ask.
“He can wait. Velementov might be with him.”
Once the tea set arrived and all of you had a sip, you all began to talk, and not just about what the weather was like. He made jokes and listened to your mother. He broke off part of a plain biscuit to feed it to Sonya. She even hopped up to the couch and slept beside him as he stroked her fur.
“Well, tomorrow’s the big day, I bet you’re tired of hearing that.” Your mother sighed, setting down her empty plate.
“But…I’m still jittery, I have to say,” you said, taking a last sip of your sweet tea.
Suddenly you looked at Grigor and he took his hand and wrapped it around yours. It wasn’t in the sweaty awkwardness of having to practice kissing, but it was dry, soft, and comforting.
“I’m jittery, too, I guess. But…if it helps Russia, we’ll do it,” he added. “Y/F/N is a brave woman to do this, and she has a gentle soul, the way I’ve seen her with little Sonya. I could do worse.”
Smiling lightly at him, you muttered a thanks. His hands heat was slowly becoming comforting. The shots of adrenaline from his touch were slowing down through you.
“And you Grigor…you’ll do, I guess,” you responded quietly.
The clock struck for the late afternoon. Grigor looked at it with wide eyes.
“Oh shi- no. We have a meeting with Archie about church laws and Peter wants me there until dinner. Can I leave?” he asked.
A part of you stifled a laugh from the suppressed swearing. At this point you were almost desensitized to it in the Russian court.
Your mother nodded, “you may.”
“And can I kiss your daughter one last time? I just want to be ready for the ceremony?” he asked in a hurry.
She nodded again, raising an eyebrow revealing her actual thoughts.
He leaned down and kissed you, putting in a little bit of pressure. And something…different. It did not feel like a polite kiss, or a practice kiss. It felt like a lover’s kiss. You closed your eyes, feeling it linger for just a bit. Then finally, he let go and said his farewells, leaving with a slight hop in his step.
It was as if a ghost on your lips was still there as he walked away. It was the nicest kiss you have had so far in your life.
Even before you went to bed to try to sleep before the big day with your mother in the other room, you found yourself tracing where it was.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next day, the hours dragged on throughout. You saw only your mother since the wedding would be in the early evening. You found yourself staring at the clock a lot, sweating with each tick of the hands. You wished you could run to Grigor and just vent about your worry, but your mother told you it was always bad luck before the ceremony.
And a marriage like this could use a little less bad luck you thought.
By two hours time before the ceremony would begin, Mariol arrived with the ribbons and decorations to start doing your hair.
“I’m here, the Empresses treat!” she announced, but waving her hands and shrugging as if it was the same dull task as sweeping. She held a wooden box under her arm.
“Oh, oh thank you! How splendid!” your mother said, taking your hand.
Mariol put the wooden box on your vanity and opened it, revealing feathers, pearls, and other little accessories.
“Want a bow?” she asked.
“Not for me,” you refused.
Selecting a white ribbon, you clicked your tongue for Sonya to trot to you. Leaning down, you tied it lightly around her neck with a bow in the back.
“She has to look her best too…”
“But she’s not the bride. Come on, Y/N…it is time we fix your hair. Not going to have walk down looking like a pigsty.”
All the twirls, tucks, and pins in the world managed to be shoved in your head by the time you were through. You wanted to groan, but when Mariol heard Sonya’s yapping, her pulling in became gentler and her head turned.
“There you go! And for a bit of makeup…”
“Can I hold Sonya as you do it?” you asked, turning from the vanity.
Mariol’s eyes went wide.
“Wha-yes! Please!”
Amidst the small dabbing of rouge, she cooed in a high voice at the little puppy, sniffing your face curiously. Your mother sat in the back, admiring Mariol’s work and nodding in admiration, with a little compliment here or there.
But you could hardly breathe your response to the face you saw in the mirror when there was a knock on the door.
Sonya leaped from your lap and trailed Mariol as she opened the door. A familiar face poked his head in.
“Hello Y/N!” you father announced, putting away his tri-cornered hat.
With somewhat of a scream you and your mother both ran up to him. Behind him walked in your brother in a nice emerald suit and his new wife in a pretty golden dress.
You called their names and embraced all of them, fighting the urge to cry.
“What…what are you doing here? I didn’t know I would even see any of you again!” you asked.
“We managed to receive lodging near…we didn’t want to miss your wedding!” your brother said, leaning in for another hug.
Sonya yipped and jumped before your sister’s wife. She leaned down and petted her.
“Oh, when did you get this precious thing?” she asked.
You put Sonya into your arms and held the dog before everyone.
“She was a gift from Grigor,” you explain.
“Your…your fiancee?” your brother asked, eyebrows raised up.
“Yes! He…he’s nothing like…like you know who. He’s a good man. In spite all of this…” you explained, getting a little dizzy at the thought of being bound to him until death in an hour.
“But, what of the emperor? He approved?” your mother asked
“I spoke with him yesterday and asked to attend, at least I wanted to walk you down, and he agreed,” he answered. 
He walked over to Sonya to feel the top of her head as well.
“We didn’t want to miss it either,” your brother chimed in.
“Well, we’re about to dress her. So, the men better head out. The ceremony is in an hour!” Mariol interrupted, she brushed her arms to shoo your father and brother away
Your mother leaned into your father.
“This palace is the size of the moon-you don’t know the way to the chapel!” she retorted she placed her hands on her hip.
She was wearing a blueish-green dress with only a few embellishments of lace here and there, along with a large lace fan that befitted the mother of the bride. You had to admire her. For a woman who never insisted she was beautiful and would call herself the reverse, this look proved the thought wrong.
“I thought I’d follow you! Just let me give her away! Please!”
She batted him lightly and shooed the men away.
With a gulp you let Mariol remove the buttons of your light day dress and set it away. With stays tied on and panniers attached, only the dress needed to be put on now. Then the gown waiting in your chest met its long-awaited fate.
She slipped it over your head. After a few touches to your already done makeup and hair, a few minutes passed in awed quietness. Your father and brother walked back in, astonished. Giving one of a dozen “you’re beautiful” compliments until you found yourself believing them too. They noted how elaborate the lace went along the opening of the skirt. That there were a few small pearls and jewels in the skirt here and there, especially with your pearl necklace, earrings, and a wedding veil attached to the top of your head. Mariol let the long lines of the veil fall over your face. The world you saw was now covered in a thin layer of white.
“You’re absolutely stunning, Y/N. No matter what happens after this, know that I love you,” your mother said, embracing you one last time.
It warmed your heart. A little. Even though the nerves still shot up your arms.
The hour struck six o clock. The door opened outside to see all of court looking at you.
There were a few murmurs of appreciation. You chose a nice white with faint hints of silver in a shade that was flattering to your skin. Little details-barely beads, but shinier- sparkled in the light. (you heard that Russian ladies were elaborate in dress and your visit and observations here were proven right).
Mother walking forward, you took your fathers arm and you headed through the palace. Your brother and his wife walked behind, walking Sonya on a small leash. Your view of the palace was blocked a little bit and you were glad of the guidance of your parents. Eyes and countless wigs turned as you both walked past.
At last you reached the chapel doors, full of gold and with saints gently looking down before you. There standing was Grigor and Emperor Peter, decked in cravats and with Peter wearing every medal on his coat you could count.
Grigor wore a wig that you could still smell the powder from. His coat was richly colored in a dark blue. He looked very striking and he turned to face you. There was a slight smile and he blinked rapidly.
Your father handed you to Grigor, and you took his hand. You both took one step into the chapel and paused as you saw the elaborate art and statues that covered the walls. Paintings of saints staring down between rows where even more courtiers sat to watch. You recognized Catherine and Georgiana from a brief glimpse. But you forced your eyes to stay on the black robes and beard of Archie at the altar.
Orlo and Arkady scurried forward with now lit candles. You nodded a thank you to Orlo who nodded back. You were both given a lighted candles and multiple prayers were said before and several bits of scripture. Then came the time to share the cup. The candles were set aside for now. Archie motioned to Grigor and he lifted your veil gently.
You looked up at him with…well, you did not know. And you could not describe the way he looked at you. It was soft, sweet, with reverence. Your eyes were beginning to water a little bit. But why were you crying? You liked Grigor, but…you were not sure how much. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, and everything seemed like a dream.
You both shared a cup of dry communal wine, and then Archie took a long golden piece of cloth, wrapping it around your joined hands.
Taking in a deep breath, Grigor began the vows, but he looked right at your eyes.
“I take you as my wife to be with you always-in wealth and in poverty, in disease and in health, in happiness and in grief, from this day until death separates us.”
He seemed like he meant it. It took you aback. You almost forgot your own vows but repeated them, albeit in a soft, shaky voice.
The vows said, Arkady and Orlo walked forward with two gold crowns that were placed on your heads in front of everyone watching. You both walked around the area of the altar in a circle. The cloth still tied with your hands together. Grigor and you took slow, careful steps.
Once the cloth was removed you were both given rings placed on each other’s fingers. but Grigor’s hands were gentle as he slipped the band into your finger. A tiny diamond sparkled in its center.
Archie read a last piece of scripture- a long and extremely dry one for a wedding. Breathing in a bit, you turned your head to look up at Grigor. His eyes shining and his mouth a little open.
He turned to look back at you and gave you another smile. A beautiful one. And this time you smiled back. For a few seconds you forgot the dreaded day you both signed that contract a month ago.
A final benediction was placed, and Archie finished. The crowns were removed from your heads. He made the sign of the cross over both of you and then turned to the crowd watching.
“Welcome to our court, the Count and Countess Dymov. Count Dymov, you may kiss the bride.”
As practiced, you both tilted your heads, leaned forward, and kissed. There was a slight spark to it and almost felt his free hand wander to your back to press you tighter.
It was done. Your family’s future, your people, and the alliance were safe. Part of you let out a small breath and looked over to your family with a knowing look, until you felt Grigor nudge you and you both walked out. 
There was uproarious applause. The emperor was smug but Catherine beside him looked genuinely happy. She was dressed in a light yellow that made her seem a flower among all these over the top wigs and laces. Your brother and his wife clapped with the sweetest smiles on their faces. But the same could not be said of Georgiana, dressed in deep orange with the mark of a heart on her cheek and giving you a glare every time your eyes accidentally wandered to hers.
Both of you walked through the halls, hand in hand, among more applause and a few tossing of flower petals. You turned and he kissed your lips lightly.
“I’m not an eloquent man but you look like a fucking snowdrop with all this gold in the palace,” he whispered.
You stuttered, still grasping  his hand, “th-thank you. You look very handsome as well.”
He let out a little smile as you both walked to a smaller room. A few trusted courtiers put a piece of parchment on a desk before you two. Both of you signed the marriage contract and waited for a serf to summon you to the dining room where the celebration would commence along with the dinner.
As the contract was rolled up by an old man as round as a peach (it may have been Velementov, Grigor taught you so many names it was hard to remember) and brought away, both of you were alone for a few minutes. There was an odd silence, then you turned to him.
“Grigor, I know you have had your heart broken recently and…I want to tell you, I’ll try to be a good wife to you. As possible. I’ll try to be understanding and I… won’t hurt you. Because I know how hard being hurt for you was. I might make mistakes, but I don’t want to hurt you,” you confided.
He shook his head a little.
“I don’t want to hurt you either…”
But speaking of hurt, there was the unspoken ghost in all this wedding talk that needed to be addressed. The one event you secretly dreaded the most. Clutching his arm and turning to him, you tried to think of a way to say it now that you were alone.
“Grigor…” you began, “Now we’re alone, we can talk. For…for uh, tonight, uhm…uh, I…”
You did not get to finish before a serf ran in. Without warning, he half pushed the both of you out. The Emperor and what seemed half of court was seated in the dining room. There was a flurry of huzzahs.
Emperor Peter jumped over the table, knocking over plates and silverware. You leaned out of the way of his flurrying and grabbed Grigor by the shoulder, with a pat on him. You took your seat close to the front and he made his way to your side. Peter leaned back in his chair which was always in the center. No matter what event was going on.
“Well, Grigor- you got yourself a girl at last! hope she gets every penny worth from you tonight!” he bellowed.
“Every penny worth?” you repeated.
He looked at you with a toothy smile and gulped down half of his wine.
“Oh, you should know! The Morgengabe! The Morning’s gift!” he cheered.
A serf poured you water and wine separately to begin with and a few musicians started playing, getting louder and louder.
“That what?” you asked over them.
“The morning, Gift. Its a German idea. Grigor, your wife is a bit of a dolt. At least her tits are decent,” he said.
“What’s the Morning’s gift?” you questioned.
Food began to be served on your plate, but your appetite was starting to decrease. You had a terrible guess at what it referred to. And you had to be sure it was right.
“It’s…uhm…” Grigor began, then he took a deep breath and turned to you, speaking so that you could understand every word.
“After we signed the contract when we were betrothed, there was a word between me, Peter, and your father. The dowry itself was covered. You’re not entering this union as a pauper and should you become a widow, you will have financial protection but…we all had to be sure the marriage was…”
He bit his lips, took in a breath, and continued.
“I gave over some money as promised by your father. It’s being kept with me. That money will be given to you the morning after the marriage is…uh, consummated. That way the alliance will be totally secure. Your family and Peter will know you weren’t just being thrown into a sham marriage that would make the contract weak. If it wasn’t complete, the alliance wouldn’t go through.”
“And the sooner the better!” Peter added, sticking his head between the two of you.
He looked at you and wiggled his eyebrows bawdily with a swirl of his goblet.
“I may just, you know- destroy your home country and chop off your family’s heads just for fun tomorrow because you haven’t fucked your husband!”
He leaned down to see your shocked expression and laughed.
“Well, money and a large cock, you have a lot to look forward to! Huzzah! Now where’s the vodka?”
As he gestured serfs forth to pour vodka into his goblet, you looked over at Grigor.
He took your hand and squeezed it.
“That’s the way it is?” You sighed.
“That’s the way it is here.” He confirmed, noting the worry on your face.
More guests came in. By the dozens. You could hardly even eat a bite or sip some wine or water because they kept wanting to talk to you. You were gladdened by your family and the few you were familiar with.
Then Orlo walked forward. Under his arms were a few books.
“Oh, here he comes again!” Grigor dismissed, rolling his eyes.
You lightly touched his arm, “no, let him speak!”
Orlo gave a slight bow in greeting.
“Why, hello there, Count and Countess Dymov! I’m here because I just wanted to give you a wedding gift…can you read, Countess?”
“I can,” you confirmed.
He handed you each two books.
“It’s mythologies, fairy tales…childish things. But since you are new here, you might find it entertaining to learn a little bit more about our culture. And so might Grigor.”
Grigor flipped through a few pages. He rested on one of a young girl walking through a forest with a branch that had a skull lit with a fire.
“Well, why read about an adventure when you can live it!” Grigor explained.
But you took the books gently and smiled at him.
“That’s very generous of you, Count Orlo! I’m sure my husband…” it was a new word with a taste as strange as their wine… “he would rather I read these to him for his entertainment than annoy him all day,” you teased, leaning over to look at the pictures as well.
“No, I don’t think you could! You’re not the type to annoy, Y/N” he replied. He smiled as he accepted a glass of vodka.
He nudged you and then hissed, “this is our tradition- watch!”
He stood up, but took your hand for you to stand up with him. Heads turned and noise was softened.
“To my new wife! And to my marriage! Huzzah!”
They all yelled “huzzah” back and you felt as if you could glow.
But he downed his vodka and threw his glass on the floor in a swift movement. The other members of court followed suit. There was a splatter of shattering glass like that of hail drops.
Occasionally there were yelps for a kiss. As if being actors on cue, you and Grigor would peck each others lips to their cheers. But not as many as Arkady said would happen.
As your family walked forward to hand you your dog, they had to tiptoe past broken glass as carefully as possible with lifted skirts and on their toes. Empress Catherine even walked from by her husband side to offer you congrats.
“You look very lovely and the ceremony was simple…”
“Oh, we only had a week to…”
“Oh no! I love simple ceremonies! Simple everything! They just mean more! And…are those books? You can read?”
“Yes, a wedding present from Orlo!” you nodded.
Both of you looked over the pages and stories, Catherine filling in with what she knew as you took bites of your dinner with relief. Serfs scurried with brooms to clean up the broken glass. A few dances were thrown and mingling was allowed. Knowing it was safe, you put Sonya in your arms and walked around.
Soon she barked and leaned forward, jumping out. She scurried, catching a bit of a dusky orange dress and chewing it with such passion, she shook it back and forth in her mouth with joy.
“Stop that!” the dress owner cried.
“Hey!” you cried, but right as you leaned down to stop her you recognized whose it was. And you froze with horror.
Georgiana looked as if she could see red as she analyzed you. Sonya panted happily in your arms, but you leaned away from her, as if to shield the creature from anything the Emperor’s mistress might do.
There was a solo violin striking up (Peter attempted to play).
“Well, look at you!” she said with a huff. She seemed only somewhat sad.
“Mademoiselle,” you acknowledged, head down in a curtsy. “Please, do not think me your enemy.”
“You are no threat to me.”
“No, how could I be? You are only our beloved Emperor's favorite. You hold so much prestige here. The ladies all prattle on how envious they are of you. I’ve heard them. I honor you, tremendously.” You started.
She looked at you straight in your eyes, expression unchanged from your words.
“You’re sweet. But so were your wedding cakes. And what do people with cakes? They chew them up into tiny pieces until they spit it out or ingest it until it’s nothing,” she spat.
“If you hurt me or my dog or my family, I will tell my husband about it. I am under the protection of the Dymov house.”
“And I am under the protection of the Emperor.” She replied.
The violin picked up and the Emperor called for a dance.
“Forget it. Let’s move past being like this. I’m not in love with Grigor. I’m only following my family’s orders.”
“That’s not what I see when you kiss him,” she finished as she strutted away.
The Emperor lead a brief speech for Grigor’s honor and to congratulate the marriage and the alliance it entailed. But your husband was having another sip of vodka, face flushing. As you returned to your seat he pulled you close.
“No, no, no…sit here, wifey,” he suggested. He put his hands on your waist and pulled you with immense strength over to his seat to sit on his lap.
You squealed at the closeness, feeling his breath and the outline of his body against yours. But he wrapped arms around you, beginning to kiss your cheek.
“Here, have some of these cakes, darling,” he offered, handing you one of the hundreds of small wedding cakes served for dessert.
Taking a bite, you could make out the density and the perfect amount of sweetness and flavoring.
“They’re…they’re scrumptious! Who made them?”
“Hmm, maybe the cooks. I just wanted to see your reaction to them,” he answered.
His pulled you a little closer, nuzzling into your head, neck, and shoulder area.
“My sweet wifey is soooo cute when she’s sooo happy!”
“Are you sure that isn’t the vodka talking, Grigor?” you retorted cheerfully, noting his glass.
He looked at you. Although his eyes were dilated from drink, he wasn’t a lost cause, at least not yet.
“If I’m not passed out on the floor, Y/N, I’m not drunk!” before taking another sip.
After a little bit longer, there were more songs. He was sobering some, the vodka wearing off as you offered him some water. He drank it as you stayed on his lap.
The songs were getting slower. Plates were clearing. And guests were drifting away. You balled your hands into fists and grabbed the skirt of your gown, trying to slow your breathing.
Your brother, sister-in-law and father excused themselves to take Sonya’s leash and lead her to Grigor’s apartments.
Oh, they’re our apartments now you silently corrected yourself.
Catherine and your mother came by. Grigor perked up and gently led you off of him.
“Y/N, Catherine offered to be with you when we lead you there,” your mother began.
Thanking with a curtsy, you left Grigor and followed them slightly behind to Dymov’s room. But looking behind, you admired Catherine glancing back at you with a smile and making small talk to her about books. She seemed so young despite the grandeur of her title. It was like she was just a friend of yours attending your big day.
They walked you over to the Dymov apartment. It seemed ominous with it’s red and the nighttime darkening everything thought the windows. The little dog barked and skipped in happiness when you walked in.
“Hello Sonya!” you said.
She wiggled her tail in greeting, little fuzz ball. Mariol walked forward, smiling. She seemed to look lighter and happier, spending time with little Sonya.
Your mother and Catherine unbuttoned you and pulled you dress over your head and removed the rolls from your hips. Mariol began to unlace your stays from behind.
“I…I’m so nervous I can hardly even think!” you confessed.
“Y/N, you have nothing to fear, really.” Catherine assured.
“It will be fine,” your mother assured, taking your hand.
“But…what if he…he hurts me. What if he…he rapes me. I’ve heard about that happening on wedding nights and…that’s what scares me the most.”
Catherine took your shoulder and squeezed it.
“You can tell me, and I’ll punish him. The Emperor won’t know and if you’re in danger, you can run to me. Wake me up in my chambers. I don’t care.”
“Does it…hurt when it happens?” you ask.
“When you’re new, sometimes. Especially when they are more...enthusiastic. But just a little. And not everyone feels pain the first time.” Your mother informed you.
Stays removed, Mariol began to undo your hair and wipe off what makeup was there with a cloth. You felt your hair fall down. Part of you wanted a blanket or a robe. You were in the Empress’s presence with only a shift on.
“What if I can’t…please him?” you asked.
Georgiana’s voice from earlier this week had haunted your mind considering tonight. If you did not perform well or even perform at all, you might be considered a failure to Grigor and even to your family, you feared. 
Yet, why did the thought of Grigor, no, your husband scorning you for his past lover make your stomach burn with envy?
“Don’t worry, it will be alright. Just tell him ‘no’ or ‘yes’, be firm and clear. You don’t have please him…just enjoy being with him, getting to know him,” your mother directed.
“It will be okay,” Catherine repeated. 
She guided your hand and you both sat on the edge of the bed. She grinned at you and you shyly smiled back.
A few minutes ticked by. Then male voices were right outside. Your heart leaped to your throat and you felt your legs freeze. Your hold on Catherine turned to a grip.
Then came the fateful sound.
There was a knock on the door.
The three of you jumped almost.
“Who is it?” Catherine asked.
“It’s Grigor, and the Emperor.”
Taking in a shaky breath, you said “you may come in.”
Grigor walked in next to Peter, who was flushed and stumbling a bit in his walk. Catherine handed you a deep green robe to wrap around yourself for a bit of modesty, seeing how embarrassed you already were at people seeing you in your shift. The three of you curtsied and the two men bowed, Peter staying low and then swaggering over to a chair. He flopped down on it, leg over an arm, and started blowing a little bird whistle.
You noticed Grigor was still in his wedding outfit and held a glass decanter of vodka and two large glasses
“Only a little while ago you were playing that,Grigor, when I was fucking the Empress on our wedding night, remember! Now we…we’ve fucking switched and now here we are!” Peter announced, blowing another shriek that erupted in spit across the floor.
Grigor walked forward and kissed your knuckles in greeting. It only struck you how handsome he was. He had a charming smile and the dark colors flattered him. He put an arm protectively over you and turned to the small group
“Thank you, everyone, it was a lovely ceremony,” he began.
“Count Dymov, do you need us to do anything?” your mother asked.
“No, mother,” he added, “and you may call me Grigor. For now, I hope you think of me as if I was a member of your family too.”
She grinned in return and addressed him by name.
“Phlah! Names shames,” Peter mocked, twirling the whistle with his fingers. Catherine looked at him with eyes wide and eyebrows down.
“How about we all have a toast to today!” Grigor announced, Holding up the decanter.
He handed a glass over to the emperor and then a glass between you both.
“I say our Emperor goes first, as our ruler and sovereign,” he suggested, pouring an extremely generous amount of vodka in the cup while giving his own only a dribble.
“I say yes! Hu—zaaaaah!” Peter cried, sucking up the vodka in a heartbeat. Grigor shared his glass with you so you could have a sip of the stuff before he finished it up.
Looking up at him, he gave you a glimmer in his eye. And you caught on.
“And let’s have a toast to the alliance! And our beloved Emperor for allowing it to happen. Huzzah!” you toasted, raising your glass.
On cue, Grigor poured another heap of vodka into Peter’s glass which he raised and swallowed down as if he were a thirsty beggar.
“Huzzzahhh f-for meeeeee,” Peter mumbled.
His face became even redder and he struggled to get out of his seat.
“Shit, w-why is everyone spinning! I order you to-to stay still!” he barked.
Everyone was already perfectly still. Catherine walked over and supported him over her shoulder.
“Let’s retire, shall we?”
“N-no! I want to…I want to watch G-G-Grigor f-f-f-uck her so I c-can…can have a good wank at it, a-at least, and m-m-maybe get my turntofuckher….ohmyfuckI’m going to vomit,” Peter announced. He ran out in a heartbeat and you heard him retch in the hallway outside.
And then the noise of his body falling on the floor.
“I will take him to his chambers,” Catherine offered.
Her eyes were alight and her pink lips tight from holding back laughter. Mariol placed an arm over her mouth as well and scurried out behind the empress. There were several footsteps and the huffing of serfs and you knew that Peter now had to be carried unconscious-and far away.
“I believe I must retire as well, good night,” your mother said.
They dismiss and leave. Now you were both alone. Your heart was racing, but you smiled and turned to Grigor in gratitude.
“That was brilliant.” You praised.
“I did have a feeling he’d want to do that. So I decided to do something about it. The vodka did get to me a little earlier,” he confessed. “But It’s worn up.”
You nodded, “yes, of course. I can tell.”
“Do you…need anything? Some water?”
“Of course.”
He walked over and got you a fresh glass poured from a crystalline pitcher. You washed away the bitter sting of vodka from your mouth and so did he. Both of you sat across from each other on the two chairs before the fire. At first all was quiet.
“Y/N…I know all of this had not happened the way we thought but…you have the support. My support. The Russian Crown. And my house and of the Dymov family, as well as our protection. You’re…you’re one of us now, it’s your right as a countess,” he promised.
I’m not Y/F/N Y/L/N anymore. I’m Y/F/N Dymov. You thought. Still unused to it.
“Thank you. I know I was quiet, but so much has been happening, today. I don’t know quite what to say,” you replied.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”
You finished your water and he finished his. Another silence.
“You looked very handsome in your coat today, you’re a lovely man,” you complimented. He looked especially lovely with the fire’s glow against his face.
“Thank you, but I’m starting to get…a bit uncomfortable. May I take dress down to my shift?” he asked
“You may.”
He opened the door and brought the old man serf. The old man took away his shoes, stockings, coat, shirt, wig, and everything else, setting them away, until he was only in his shift and a pair of white breeches.
Though you stared away from him, focusing on the empty glass in your hand. He walked forward as soon as the old man set away the clothes and exited.
“Y/N…you’re tense. Are you…nervous?” he asked, kneeling down to be at your level.
You nodded, not even looking at him.
“Yes. I was scared you would…force yourself on me,” you voiced. “It’s what I was going to tell you earlier.”
He walked forward to you and put two of his hands on your shoulders, but not heavily.
“Y/N, I won’t do that…you can’t please a woman by forcing yourself on her and I…I didn’t want to displease you. I told you earlier, I don’t want to hurt you.” He reminded.
Your shoulders relaxed.
“I didn’t want to displease you either. Its just…I…I’ve never slept with anyone before. You’ve probably seen the file form the doctor we gave to Archie. There. The proof. And I…I’m just…I’m just nervous.”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous as well,” he comforted.
You thought of the Morning gift, of your duty …but you noticed the outline of his body through the shift. And every time you found your eyes go to his face, they would go back to his body.
Your eyes noticed that the books from Orlo were on a desk in the corner.
“What about these?” you said.
Grigor brought them to you. You passed a bit of time flipping through them. The illustrations, even he admitted, were lovely. You both studied it, asking which tales he was familiar with, and what stories you knew of. The tiredness got to you slightly and as you both sat on the chair as he sat down beside you, you laid your head against his shoulder a little sleepily.
Sonya slept deeply in the corner. She laid down on a soft pillow, her belly full of roast chicken from the feast, and legs twitching as if chasing something. Then she woke up a bit and wandered over to the next room to sleep.
Grigor closed the book and raised your chin to meet his face.
“I think I’d like reading more if it was with you, can we…we move to bed? You seem a little tired,” he said.
“We can.”
Both of you settled into the sheets. You sighed at the warmth of the blankets over you.
“Russia’s every bit as cold as you said,” you jested
“Then can I hold you, to keep you warm…just to make you comfortable.”
“You can.”
He wrapped his arms around you. The fire cackled in the distance and you could make out a ticking clock somewhere else in the room. Both of you laid down on your sides, looking at each other. He felt nice compared to the cold air everywhere else in the apartment.
“Can I kiss you, Y/N? I guess for…for duty. Nothing else has to happen until you’re ready.”
“You can. For our duty.”
He kissed you passionately, deeply. Something inside you made you grab him. You didn’t feel like you wanted to push him away. It was a tight embrace. You liked kissing him. Kissing him had set you on fire, something in your was waking up suddenly. You put your arms around him to deepen it.
Then you let go. You were almost afraid of this wanting. You liked touching him, almost too much. You could notice the top of his shift moving around, showing a bit of his chest.
“Let me kiss you two more times, please…for the alliance’s sake.”
“I’ll let you,” you said.
He leaned down for the first one, but instinctively rolled on top of you. You gasped.
“I…I’m sorry…am I crushing you?” he asked, shrinking away.
“No…it just surprised me. It’s not bad…”
“I don’t know what came over me.”
Then you smiled, and there was a new voice coming out of you.
“That was still one kiss, though. You own me another one.”
He kissed you again. Your hand went to his chest, lightly touching it.
“I…I’ve seen statues, but I’ve never seen a man in only his shift before…” you admitted.
“You can explore, you can touch me” he smirked.
You hands explored his neck, his shoulders, and then began tracing his chest again, and one to his back.
“Grigor…it’s for Russia but…I want you to touch me…”
His head tilted and he blinked rapidly.
“To touch you?”
“I… I…I trust you…”
“Well, if it’s for business…I will.”
You began to trace him more and he let his hands wander over you as well. You traced his neck down to around his shoulder and arm, feeling how each place rose up and went down. When you got to his hands, you put each of your fingers into the crooks of his- hands interlaced. He moved from kissing your lips to your cheeks, and then your neck. It was new and strange, tingling. But you liked it too much to push it away. And when he shifted to be more on top of you-but not his full body-you liked it too much to not stop it either. And every time you felt a small touch or kiss end, you wanted more.
 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once it was over, he rolled off, both of you lazily staring at the ceiling and catching your breath.
Then you looked at him with swollen lips, undone hair, and wide eyes. And he looked at you. 
You began to laugh. And he laughed too in tandem.
“I was terrified of that! What was I thinking!” you said, looking over at him. The previous fear had melted away.
“It’s always terrifying when you do it first, even with a new person. But…you’re…you’re good.” Grigor commented.
The air from around felt cold. The fire was dying down and who knew what hour it was. Your two shifts remained crumpled on the floor like ghostly puddles.
“Could you…could you hold me?” you asked coquettishly, leaning towards him.
“Hmm, let me think about that...”
“Please? It’s getting cold.” you added, bringing his hand up to kiss his knuckles.
He leaned over to pull you close. He felt very warm, and sweaty. But you did not mind.
“I…I think we might find a way for this to work…” he murmured.
“Yes, I…I agree.”
He pulled you into his chest. Your eyes saw the small hairs and the rise and fall of his breathing.
“I remember…when I would wake up in the morning, and…I’d hate it,” he recalled, looking up at the ceiling again.
“Why?” you ask.
Tracing his chest, drawing little figures into it. He let you rest your head on his arm. It was getting darker and darker, the candles in the room were dying and giving out bit by bit.
“I’d just feel…alone…” he confessed. He looked over to you, eyes a little dark from the memory.
“Not anymore, Grigor. I’ll make sure of it. You won’t be alone with me.”
It is quiet and peaceful. You both fall asleep deeply.
At one point you wake up briefly, only to see Grigor talking to the old man serf, but he turns to you and shushes.
“It’s early-get some more sleep, Y/N. It was a long day yesterday,” he whispers to you. You see some tiredness in his eyes as well.
You lay your head back down without a word. You fall back asleep.
The light of a later part of the morning fills up the flat when you open your eyes again. Turning around, Grigor is wearing his shift, but still, fast asleep. He must have woken up, put it on, and then drift back into dreaming.
Watching him for a while, it seems he won’t be waking for some time. Even though sunlight is coming out of the windows with the strong glare of mid-morning.
You pull on your shift and your old green robe, you move over to where a tray was set with complimentary coffee in a fancy porcelain set and certain pastries with a note of congratulations from someone’s Aunt Elisabeth or other. But before you can even pour a cup or try a crumb, something catches your eye.
There is an envelope on the tray and when you open it there is some money.
You had forgotten about the morning gift completely.
  Taglist: @foxinaforestofstars @iwritefanficnotprophecies @itsametaphorgwil @queenlover05 @simonedk @panagiasikelia @grigorlee @fueled-by-novocaine @stardust-killer-queen @xviiarez @vintage-and-hypnotic @raerawrrae  @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night(if I forgot to add you please alert me asap!!!) @always-a-fairycat @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @im-an-adult-ish @marshmxllowfluff​
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busterkeatonfanfic · 3 years
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Chapter 8
Buster woke the following morning feeling like hell. His nostrils were so stuffy he could barely breathe out of them, his nose was on fire, and his mouth still tasted like blood even though he’d brushed his teeth twice before bed. He stumbled to the bathroom to look at the damage. Two small purple bruises underscored his eyes and the bridge of his nose was swollen to twice its size. His appearance confirmed that canceling filming had been the right decision. He swallowed some aspirin, cleaned his teeth again, and took a shower, letting the steam open his clogged sinuses. 
The aspirin barely touched the pain. He toweled off and pulled on a dressing gown, then poured himself a breakfast whiskey to go with the steak and eggs he ordered. Once he’d eaten, he called Nate. To his relief, he was patched over to her line; she hadn’t left for Sunday brunch at Dutch’s yet. 
“Hello?” she said.
“Hi, how are you?” he said.
She told him that she was well. 
He said, “I broke my nose in the game last night.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. How?”
He explained the eighth-inning fastball to the face. “But we won the game. 9 to 6.”
“Did you?” she said. “That’s too bad about your nose though. I’m sorry, darling.”
She sounded suitably sympathetic, but he craved more. He wanted the soothing, the I’ll-be-right-there, the kissing and canoodling. 
“How are the boys?” he said.
“The usual,” she said. “Full of the devil.”
“Good,” he said. “I won’t be filming for a few days because of my nose. You should really consider bringing them up. They’d love the steamboats and I’d like you to see the set. They say the shopping is good in Yolo, too.”
“Oh Buster,” she said, her tone telling him the answer was already a big fat no. “You know I’d love to, but six hours on a train is too much for them, don’t you think? I know you’re disappointed, but we must think of what’s best for them. And wouldn’t they be in your way? I’d have to bring Connie to mind them, and I think four is getting to be a crowd. I don’t suppose your suite would hold another four, would it?”
“Nate, you don’t have to bring the governess. I think you’re perfectly capable of managing them for a few days, don’t you? We can get a second suite or even a third, if that’s what has you concerned.”
“I’m flattered by your faith in me,” she said with a little laugh, “but you’ve never traveled with three- and five-year-old boys! I know I’m letting you down, but it’s only another month, isn’t it? Five weeks tops? That’s really not so bad when you think of it.”
“Yeah, it’s not too bad,” he said, echoing her hollowly.
“I miss you dreadfully,” she assured him, before launching into a story about the picture Dutch was filming and the party she intended to throw with her sisters at the Villa next weekend. He listened with only half an ear. He wasn’t surprised about her answer to his proposal, but he still felt lousy.
Since Bobby had been born and Nate had booted him out of the bed, he’d accepted that his needs would have to be satisfied by other women. He knew that Nate hated him for it, even though he’d stuck to his original promise and been the soul of discretion. In spite of her rejection, he still desired her and wanted to win her back, but the most she would ever permit was necking and light petting. If he so much as thought about taking things further, she’d squirm out of his grasp. He just didn’t understand, even three years since he’d last made love to her, why he couldn’t have both a wife and the rights that other husbands were entitled to. He’d gone over it in his head a thousand times. Was he a bad lover? Was it her upbringing? Peg’s sermonizing? Her religion? Could she be a lesbian? He didn’t know and God forbid he even try to broach the topic. She’d give him such a withering look before she stalked out of the room that he felt like he ought to be thrown in jail on charges of sex depravity for even mentioning the idea. 
Divorce was out of the question, naturally. There were relationships to preserve: the one with Joe for starters and those with his famous sisters-in-law. He didn’t trust that Nate wouldn’t try to keep the boys from him, either, if he tried to end it. He could just hear her saying to some attorney, ‘Well, he doesn’t see them much anyway.’ In the meantime, all the saphead could do was to keep trying vainly to find that opening in his wife’s affections. Casting her as his leading lady hadn’t worked. Building her a little love-nest, then a great big love-nest, hadn’t worked. He’d recently decided that maybe a real honeymoon instead of the post-nuptial cross-country train trip that had masqueraded as one might work on her. He figured deep down it wouldn’t change her mind, but still he had his foolish hopes. 
When Natalie was done prating, he told her he had to get ready for lunch with Joe and said his goodbyes. There wasn’t any such lunch, but he no longer wanted to talk. 
He ended up spending the afternoon at the new zoo, disguised by a fake moustache, a tweed cap, and jumper vest that constricted him in heat on what was already a sweltering day. It worked, though. No one looked twice at him. The zoo was a disappointment. To begin with, it was extraordinarily tiny, but more importantly most of the animals featured—deer, wild turkey, raccoons—could be seen if you just sat in a Muskegon tree long enough. The most exotic offering consisted of some listless-looking monkeys in cages. A pack of adolescent boys thumped on their wire enclosures and screeched at them to perform. “Pick on someone your own size!” he yelled at them, and they scattered. The monkeys blinked back at him, not seeming to care one way or the other. 
He did have dinner with Joe that night at the Italian Restaurant in the Julius Hotel. As Buster tucked into his truffle tagliatelle, Joe dropped the bomb. 
“We can’t have the flood sequence.”
Buster laughed. “It sounded like you just said ‘We can’t have the flood sequence,’ Joe, but I don’t think I heard you right,” he said, and took a bite of tagliatelle. “Good one, though.”
“I’m not kidding. Think about how it’ll look. You’ve got a river that’s supposed to be the Mississippi—”
“Sacrasippi,” Buster said, lifting his eyebrows.
“Cut it out,” said Joe, frowning. “I’m trying to be serious. You’ve got a river that’s supposed to be the Mississippi and it’s supposed to flood. Well, you know as well as I do that hundreds of people just lost their lives in the Mississippi floods.”
“Since when do you care?” said Buster. If there was one thing he’d always liked about Joe, it was that he let him alone and let him make the pictures his own way. Something about this smelled fishy.
“It’s in poor taste. It’s not going to get laughs, it’s just going to bring bad publicity. I don’t want it to flop. There’s too much money in it.”
Buster set down his fork. Two words had stuck out: publicity and money. “This is Harry, isn’t it?” he said, narrowing his eyes.
Joe gave a slight wave of his hand, dismissing the comment. “Now don’t go blaming Harry. I happen to agree with him. It would be a risky thing, and God knows what it would cost to pull it off anyway.”
“Well that god damn bean-counter,” said Buster, anger flaring. “We’ve already got everything set up for a flood! The entire god damn picture is about a flood. That’s the entire point!” Joe looked at him with a firm expression. “I’ve made up my mind. We can’t do a flood.”
“Well, we may as well can the whole picture then,” Buster said. “All my best gags are built around the flood. I can’t just start from scratch.”
“Look,” said Joe, continuing to eat his own meal. “We’re talking about lost lives here. You can see that, can’t you?”
“Horseshit,” said Buster. “Remember Chaplin’s picture Shoulder Arms? The ink wasn’t even dry on the Armistice when he released that. I remember ‘cause it was the first thing I saw after I got back from France. Everyone loved it. No one was thinking about how many soldiers had just gotten their heads and legs blown off in the war, they just knew a funny picture when they saw one.” He clenched his left fist in his lap. 
“Why not try another disaster?” Joe said.
“Like what?” he said. He stabbed at the pasta with his fork and took a bite without pleasure.
“I’m not the brains here.”
“What, like a cyclone? Joe, I bet you tornadoes and hurricanes kill more people each year than floods. Sure we wouldn’t get bad reviews and angry letters from folks whose families have been killed by tornadoes?”
Joe waved his hand again. “A cyclone sounds just fine. Anything that’s not a flood, you can do.”
It stunk to high heaven as far as Buster was concerned, but he knew Joe well enough to see when he’d made up his mind. He finished his tagliatelle in silence and didn’t even pretend he was willing to pick up the tab when Joe went to pay. He took a taxi back to the Senator and went to bed early, tossing between the sheets and stewing about his lost flood. There were butter cookies in the brown paper sack making dark greasy spots on its sides. Nelly stood outside Buster’s dressing room, her heart racing with the memory of what had happened last time she’d stepped inside it. Before she lost her nerve, she tapped on the door. 
“Come in!” called Buster. 
She slipped through and closed the door. He was sitting at his table again, not in costume today but wearing dark slacks and a long-sleeved blue jacquard shirt with faint stripes.
“Hi, it’s Nelly,” she said, by way of greeting. 
“I haven’t forgotten your name,” said Buster, one corner of his mouth quirking. “What do you have there?”
She stepped a few feet forward and extended the bag. “I made you cookies.”
He looked from the bag to her as he took it, surprised. “What did I do to deserve such an honor?”
“I heard you broke your nose,” she said. Indeed, she could see up close that his nose was swollen near the top and there were small faded bruises beneath his eyes, not noticeable unless you were next to him.
“So you baked me cookies.” He peeked inside. 
“Yes. I wanted to thank you, too,” she said, feeling the full ridiculousness of her gesture. “For taking care of me last Friday night.”
“No one’s ever made me get-well cookies before, not even my own mother. I’d just get cod-liver oil, even for sprains.” He sounded pleased.
“How’s your nose?” she said, as he bit into a cookie. 
“Hurts like the dickens,” he said, chewing. “I’m hoping the swelling will go down by Friday so I can start filming again.” He didn’t remark upon the cookie as he finished it, but she noticed he pulled another out of the bag. “We’re doing the night scenes soon.”
She was still a little fuzzy on Steamboat Bill’s plot, but this week’s filming had involved hundreds of local extras, and the grander of the two steamboats was piloted up and down the river, belching out huge plumes of black smoke. She’d taken a break to watch the spectacle. The crowd’s enthusiasm for the steamboat seemed real. The whole set certainly looked real thanks to all the props down by the riverside, the small boats, the large pennants reading KING, and the patriotic bunting draped on storefronts. Buster had been on hand near the cameras helping direct, but hadn’t noticed her in the throngs.
Buster went on. “I’ve got this publicity man who says I can’t have a flood because of the lives that were lost when the Mississippi flooded, so we’re changing everything up for a cyclone.” She marveled a little that he was telling her anything about the production, but tried not to show it. “I wondered what those airplane propellers and big motors Bert had me order were for,” she said. 
“These are good,” said Buster, pulling a third cookie from the bag. “Remind me to get hurt more often.”
“Or rescue foolish girls from themselves more often,” she said. 
“It was nothing,” he said. 
“It was something to me.” 
He considered her as he started on the third cookie. 
“Anyway, I already took lunch. I’ve got to get back to the shop,” she said.
“Okay,” he said. 
She had her hand on the door when he spoke up again. 
“Why that Shrew play, anyway? Why not Juliet?”
She turned back and looked at him, thoroughly confused. She had no idea how he knew about one of her dearest and closest ambitions.
He noticed her puzzlement and clarified. “You said your dream was to star in that Shrew play. Why? Why not Romeo and Juliet?”
“I don’t remember telling you that,” she said, feeling abashed
“Well, don’t get bent out of shape about it, I was just asking,” he said, a little defensively. 
“No, I’m not bent out of shape, I’m surprised,” she said, as she faced him. “I don’t remember saying that. I’m afraid of what else I, uh, might have said that night.” She cringed to think of what else might have come out of her mouth. “I hope I didn’t beg you for a break or anything.”
He regarded her with a calm expression. “You didn’t. I’d still like to know, though.”
“Well, Kate has a mind of her own. She wants to control her own fate. Marriage isn’t for her,” she said, conscious of how clumsy her words were. “She’s fun to play. Romeo and Juliet is a little boring.”
In truth, it was Katherine’s spirit which she loved, the rebellion against her father and Petruchio, and hang the end of the play. In her experience, the audience never remembered the end of the play, only the beginning and middle where Katherine was at her most defiant and fiery. 
Buster nodded, elbow on the table and finger sliding absently under his lip. The silence stretched on for long enough that Nelly said, “Anyway, I’ll see you around.”
“Thanks for the cookies,” Buster said.
Note: It’s easy when writing a fiction about Buster Keaton to cast Natalie Talmadge as a villain. I prefer to listen to Buster’s granddaughter Melissa Talmadge Cox who points out that the divorce is ancient history and that fans should get over it! Even though I’m writing a story that is obviously canon divergent, I always remember that Buster lived happily ever after with Eleanor Norris Keaton and considered himself to have had a lucky life with very few dark spots. Why did Natalie put a end to her sex life with the gorgeous, winsome Buster Keaton? I think the likeliest explanation is that she just wasn’t attracted to him or simply didn’t like sex. I do think Buster really loved her too and wanted things to work out, which is why their marriage lasted as long as it did. I’ve tried to convey that with this story. Also, I’m with Natalie. Trying to travel hours on a train with two young rambunctious boys sounds like a nightmare, even with a governess.  And yes, the Keaton governess was also named Connie, not to be confused with Constance “Connie” Talmadge, who was also frequently called Dutch. Finally, with a lot of digging through newspapers I learned that the date Buster broke his nose was July 30th, 1927! So the first scene takes place on the 31st. The second occurs on Wednesday, August 3rd.
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leverage-ot3 · 4 years
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notable moments from The Gimme a K Street Job
leverage 5.05
lemme just start by addressing the episode synopsis: “to take down a competitive cheerleading company which profits by putting teenage girls at risk, the team must tackle their most corrupt foe yet: congress”
y’all they went SO HARD for 2012 and I stan them SO HARD for that
- - - - -
Parker (into video camera on phone): Do you hate me? You hate me. Is that why you’re making me—
[Leverage Headquarters]
Parker (on display): —do this?
Nate: No, Par-Parker, these girls... they need a coach, and you’re the best gymnast I know.
Hardison: Besides, it puts you on the inside at Pep H.Q. In D.C. They’re running cheer camp for the next week up until championship.
Parker: But they’re teenage girls. What do I know about teenage girls?
Nate: You were a teenage girl?
Parker: Only sort of
parker I guarantee you’ll be in your element soon enough
but, in the meantime, parker complaining to nate like an offended child to a parent is everything
- - - - -
Sophie: Look, did you know about this? Girls being dropped from 20 feet. It’s unbelievable.
Parker: I know, right? 20 feet? Psh! Walk it off.
Sophie: Parker, you do know that normal people don’t just “walk off” a 20-foot fall, right?
Parker: So... all those times I pushed Hardison off a building and he was all “aah!”... he wasn’t just being funny?
(Hardison shakes his head)
Eliot: I thought it was funny, Parker.
Hardison: No way in hell was it funny.
Eliot: You’re always upside down, man.
Hardison: I fell off a building. I was upside...
Eliot: Like a Himalayan tree frog.
Hardison: You calling me a frog? You calling me a damn frog? Say it again. Say it to my face
I’d die for this chaotic ot3
eliot “I thought it was funny” spencer made sure to both reassure parker and fuck with hardison in the saME B R E A T H
- - - - -
Nate: Ah, there’s the crux of the problem right there. Technically, legally, cheerleading is not a sport. It’s an activity.
Sophie: What’s the difference?
Eliot: A sport has legally mandated safety standards.
Nate: Yes, and a for-profit company cannot run a sport, which is why pep wants to keep Competitive cheer from becoming a sport.
I don’t know why I was expecting someone to bash cheerleading the show had never ever let me down and I should have known better
- - - - -
Sophie: Ah, I love government. Shady deals, back-room meetings... It is grifter paradise.
Eliot: This is wrong. We work outside the law, not smack-dab in the middle of it.
Nate: Relax, Eliot. Elected officials are the easiest marks in the world. Between their ego, the greed, and the politics... More hooks than a bait shop
another fucked up government episode let’s go
- - - - -
Eliot: Right. Assuming it passes.
Hardison: Assuming what? It’s a bill to keep high-school girls out of wheelchairs. Who’s gonna vote against it?
[Congressional Meeting]
LeGrange: Ladies and gentlemen, this bill is a staggering... I say a staggering overreach of government power.
Eliot: You were saying
eliot is smug and loves proving hardison wrong on principle
- - - - -
LeGrange: Now, I was a quarterback in high school, so I think I know a thing or two about cheerleaders. And one thing I know is that they do not want big government getting all up in their business.
(Barron and Snyder enter the room)
LeGrange: Cheerleaders are strong, independent young women. They don’t need a bunch of white-haired old men from Washington telling them what to do. They don’t need a nanny state dictating their every move
this whole thing was so gross wtf
- - - - -
(Hardison uses his phone to create feedback on the sound system. A technician struggles to fix it while Hardison hands Eliot his phone)
Hardison: Just press this button.
LeGrange: I said, who knows what...
(Eliot presses button and the feedback gets worse)
they lowkey grinned at each other when they did it ,,,
they’re a chaotic duo that thrives on fucking with people and I stan them so hard for it
two words: assholery boyfriends
- - - - -
Nate: No, not... not marks. Elected officials. We do this right, we’ll have them eating out of our hand by dinner.
(hours later, Hardison enters looking exhausted. The others are seated around looking tired as well)
Eliot: “Eating out of our hand by dinner,” huh?
Hardison (sits down): Anybody else feel like we’ve been chewed up and spit out
and that’s government, people
- - - - -
Sophie: I like stealing things that are real. Cash... of course. Land... sure. Art... yes, please. Corn subsidies? Not so much.
let sophie steal expensive art from rich snobs pls it’s what she deserves
- - - - -
Girl: Um, coach?
Parker: Right! Okay, who’s up for some basic gymnastics drills?
(Parker presses a button and LASER light lines shine between orange cones. A girl in the back raises her hand)
Parker: Yes. You. What are you called?
Madison: Madison. Can I be excused? I don’t feel well.
Parker: But... We have... laser grid, Madison. Laser grid. Huh?
(on phone call)
Parker: They’re so jaded
I hope they still learned how to dodge lasers at the end
also ,,, THEIR PERFORMANCE WAS SO GOOD AT THE END PARKER TAUGHT THEM SO WELL
- - - - -
LeGrange: No, no. Listen carefully, son. Now, people don’t donate to me to buy my vote. People donate to me because they already know how I’m gonna vote. People donate to me because of my integrity. Now, if your people are interested in me, I’m happy to have your money. But if you think you can buy a vote off of J.J. LeGrange, well, you got another think coming.
[Empty Office]
Sophie: You mean...
Eliot: Yeah, I mean the guy’s got integrity. Elected official or not, you can’t con an honest man
congressman: *is honorable*
eliot:
sophie:
hardison:
nate:
*team collectively embodies the surprised pikachu meme*
- - - - -
Nate: Okay, so what’s your next play?
Eliot: Well, you’re supposed to be the mastermind. He doesn’t want power. He doesn’t want money. Maybe he really is an honest man.
Nate: Everyone has a hook, Eliot. Everyone has a weakness you can exploit.
Eliot: Do you?
Nate: No. You?
Eliot: No. Look, maybe this doesn’t fit into your world view, Nate, but there are some people out there that just want to serve. Trust me. I served with them.
Nate: Okay. Well, if all they want to do is serve, you can exploit that, too.
they totally have hooks and it’s the team but smh act like y’all are untouchable whatever
- - - - -
(Parker turns on a light in Ashley’s face)
Ashley: Madison talked to me in confidence.
Parker: A big word for a little girl.
Nate: Where’s Madison?
(Parker leans down into Ashley’s face, growling)
she literally G R O W L E D LMFAO
- - - - -
Parker: Madison? Madis... (sees Madison) Madison, hey, what are you doing down here? (helps Madison up) Everybody’s freaking out. Come on, we got to get you to the competition.
Madison (jerks away): I don’t want to compete.
Parker: What? Why not?
Madison: I don’t want to mess up again.
Parker: What are you talking about? When do you mess up? You’re great.
Madison: Seriously?
Parker: Oh. You were Marcy’s spotter.
Madison: I don’t know what went wrong. We’d done it a hundred times. Everything was going perfectly. (sits down) I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt.
(Nate clears his voice. Parker sits beside Madison)
Parker: Look... I’m not afraid of heights or falling or... Anything I probably should be. But do you know what I am afraid of? Letting down the people I care about. Look, you don’t have to compete if you don’t want to compete. But I think your friends are gonna feel a lot safer knowing that you’re there, instead of having no one there.
(Madison nods)
Parker: Right? Did, uh, that work? Because I kind of got to get all the way up to the roof, so... (leaves the area)
parker NEVER would have been able to be vulnerable and understanding like that in the earlier seasons and we are SO PROUD of her and her character growth
+
“But do you know what I am afraid of? Letting down the people I care about.”
SHE LOVES HER FAMILY SO MUCH AND NEVER WANTS ANYTHING TO HAPPEN TO THEM
also ,,, nate’s fond look at her when she’s saying this ??? im soft
- - - - -
Cheerleader: Ready! Ready!
Announcer: Let’s hear it for the MHS Badgers!
Announcer: Ready! Ready! Let’s go!
Nate: Ready?
[Congresswoman Berkus’ Office]
Hardison: Ready.
[Sophie’s Office]
Sophie: Ready.
[Hallway]
Eliot: Ready.
[Pep Athletics Headquarters]
Parker: Ready.
Nate: Let’s go.
they’re so extra I love them
- - - - -
Ashley: Where’s coach?
Madison: She’ll be here. She won’t let us down.
Man: Wolves, you’re up.
Female announcer: Let’s give it up for the Wolves.
Parker: I’m here! I’m here! I’m here! All right, let’s huddle up. I bet you guys could use a pep talk right about now, huh?
(cheerleaders agree)
Parker: For Marcy?
Madison: For Marcy.
Parker: Go, wolves.
All: Go-o-o-o, wolves!
(cheerleaders perform an outstanding routine. Barron approaches Nate as he watches)
parker THRIVED during this episode and you can’t change my mind
- - - - -
parker watching over the cheer team with pride is my religion
- - - - -
also BIG PROPS to the producers that showed male cheerleaders too
- - - - -
LeGrange: Hi. (to Parker) How are you? J.J. LeGrange.
Parker: I don’t vote.
parker is chaotic and we love her for it
- - - - -
Hardison: And what was that about?
Sophie: Huh? Oh, I was j... I was, um, just planning a little trip to the gulf. The military are breaking ground on Fort Devereaux.
Hardison: Fort Devereaux?
Sophie: Mm-hmm. I love government.
Parker: Missed you guys this week. Good game.
I WANNA SEE FORT DEVERAUX
also parker wrapping her arms around sophie and hardison, happy to have her people and admitting that she missed them? the pOWER
- - - - -
Nate: Good job on this one.
Eliot: I know what you’re trying to do, Nate. You could have told me how to hook LeGrange the whole time, but you wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own. I trust someday very, very soon, you’re gonna tell me what kind of game you’re playing.
Nate: Good job on this one.
(Nate walks away. Eliot smiles, but watches him walk away)
eliot’s bashful little smile at the end is everything
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deniigi · 4 years
Note
OooooooOoo, please tell us about the cowoboy au you wrote yesterday!!!! (Like right now, it sounds amazing)
THANK THEE ANON
Bless you
Take the whole incomplete thing
POV - Outlaw Frank Castle
-------------
He won the horse in a bet in Oklahoma and hadn’t managed to pawn her off to the folks in Kansas; around Utah he accepted that she was now his goddamn horse which was how he ended up in California, holding his head in a leather shop trying to talk a guy into an actually functional set of saddlebags.
The man had tried to sell him four different sets of boots, no matter how vehemently Frank explained to him that he only had two feet.
He wasn’t leaving this town in two hours. There was no way.
Eventually he held up a hand to the guy’s blathering and asked him firmly where he could get a decent drink.
--
  The local bar was in an inn and the woman who ran it had dark tan skin and dark eyes and told him right at the door that she didn’t want a lick of trouble in her establishment.
She knew who he was.
She pointed a carving knife right at him while she said it.
She kept the knife on him while she told him that a room for the Punisher would be twice that of her regular clients’ on account of the target she was painting on the back of her head in full sight of the sheriff.
Frank liked her.
He liked her a lot.
Double the fee for a night or two wasn’t too much of a dent in his wallet. The horse got a rest in the stable and he got a set of clean sheets, a bath, and a meal that wasn’t half-burnt. It was worth it.
--
  He paid for his room and had a drink at the bar next to the slumped over body of a woman who had no concern for the state of her kerchief.
She had a holster at her side and some boots that had seen some action.
Dark hair. Dark eyes.
Frank kept the fuck away.
Everyone knew who Jessica Jones had her pistols trained on. He had no intention of becoming her latest bounty.
He had his shot and set out into the street.
--
  For a dinky town in the middle of god-knew-where California, the place was sure awake. People were shouting across dirt roads, over the heads of carts and horses. A grocer haggled with a set of women across from the inn, while a blonde man in what looked to be Eastern clothing stood on a street corner and called out passages of his religion to the crowd. He caught the attention of a tall black man who told him to give it up and go home, Daniel. People around these parts had only one God on their mind.
Daniel took this with insult and hopped off his box to collect his pamphlets.
Frank tipped his hat low over his face when Daniel passed close in front of him. A star had come meandering down towards the corner he’d been standing on.
Another black man, this time wearing a badge.
Frank had no time for no sheriffs or deputies. He was here for a breath between jobs.
He turned his steps after Daniel but didn’t get far.
“CASTLE.”
He sighed.
“I know that face.”
He turned to look over his shoulder at the deputy. He didn’t look happy. Frank couldn’t say that he did either.
--
  “I’m only passin’ through,” he told the deputy in the dry, dark quarters of the sheriff’s office.
“Are you? Are you really?” this guy demanded—keen, he was, Frank would give him that.
“Just here for a few nights to catch my breath and I’ll be off and out of your hair,” he promised. “Cross my heart and hope to die, Deputy--?”
“Mahoney,” the deputy snapped. “And you better hope for your and your horse’s sake that you are. I don’t got time for outlaws to be takin’ up residence in this town.”
“I’ll be gone before your sheriff gets back, you can count on it, Mahoney,” Frank said.
Mahoney scrunched his face up at him and scoffed.
“You better hope so, Castle,” he said. “Or else you’re gonna need a lawyer.”
--
  Just on the off-chance that he’d be needing one, when Frank escaped the hot, musty wood of the sheriff’s office, he set out to locate the local house of law.
Not the court. God knew that this place wasn’t big enough for its own court. But the house of law.
He found it crammed in between two front porches. It looked damn near like any other house, with the exception of a sign on the door that said simply ‘Nelson, Attorney at Law.’ A cursory peek through the window revealed a young Chinese clerk in a waistcoat sealing letters at a desk inside. His head kept dipping as he drifted in and out of dreamland.
Huh.
California employed all kind of folks, didn’t they?
Kid was probably snapped up from the mines or the railroad by some benevolent progressive. Probably the abominable Mr. Nelson, Attorney at law.
Frank made a note of the name and decided that that was enough lollygaggin’. He had a horse to check on and real saddlebags to acquire.
--
  The next tanner was more accommodating and knew straightaway who Frank was. He gave him a deal on some secondhand bags. They were old, needed oiling, but they were serviceable. Frank gave the guy a couple dollars extra to come up with a creative name to put in his accounts and a couple of cents to the apprentice to oil up the old leather.
He left with a promise of them being ready in two days and immediately walked into a circle of people gathered around two performers right outside the shop.
He started to go around, but paused upon looking back and seeing one of the guys holding out his hand for what looked like a doppleganger of himself.
The second carrot-top grabbed the hand of the first and easily hoisted his twin up until he was balanced, holding perfectly still, over his head. The brother pointed his toes straight up in the air and then slowly and as gracefully as you’d like, spread his legs out wide until him and his brother, who’d planted his feet in the dirt, were a mirror of each other.
It was pretty gutsy.
Frank had seen such antics before back East, it was a wonder to see them so far West.
A sign leaned against a crate in front of the brothers touted a set of Irish acrobat twins, come all the way from the rocky shores of Donegal for the viewing pleasure of the American public. The sign helpfully proclaimed in curly script that there was only one set of working eyes between the two of them, and yet such ‘feats of amazement’ remained within their reach.
Frank lifted an eyebrow. The brother on the ground flicked eyes his way and his wide smile suddenly dropped at the corners.
Frank made a note to stay away from the Murdocks.
One of them knew more than he needed to.
 --
And that is all I had time to crank out before flinging myself at the nearest dogpark for a social-distancing picnic.
But the potential, anon.
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pearlll09 · 3 years
Text
About: Venaric Favellus
Tagged by @maraleestuff​ - thank you, but you only want me to pick one oc? aoudrdsjk I thought about it and decided to pull out one I’m currently writing/posting here even though it’s going really slow. So, here’s my Skyrim oc!
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Name: Venaric Favellus
Alias: Oh no, he will introduce himself with his full name, and expects people to at least use his first name when addressing him. However, in his homeland, you might also hear people refer to him as the Master of Verse.
Gender: Male
Age: I’m gonna say mid 20s on this one
Species: Human (Imperial)
Zodiac:  aquarius / aries / cancer / capricorn / gemini / leo / libra / pisces / sagittarius / scorpio / taurus / virgo / unknown (Does skyrim even have a zodiac system?)
Abilities/ Talents: If you haven’t guessed already from his outfit to his title, Venaric is, in fact, a bard. He is very skilled at any instrument, though he favorites the lute, and he is good at singing or reciting poetry, whichever the event may request. He is pretty skillful at magic as well, though sometimes he does find it hard to control, especially any lightning spell. Overtime, he is going to learn more skills, like proper sword fighting and even blacksmithing, but that’s all part of his character growth. Oh, and he can and absolutely will talk the pants off of anyone.
~ Personal ~
Alignment: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true
Religion: Venaric worships Dibella, wearing her amulet wherever he goes (which he is not wearing in this screenshot because I haven’t found one in game yet). It is going to throw him through a loop though when he has to become a Nightingale.
Sins: Envy / Greed / Gluttony / Lust / Pride / Sloth / Wrath
Virtues: Charity / Chasity / Diligence / Humility / Justice / Kindness / Patience
Language(s): The common tongue of Tamriel, and whatever the Imperials speak (I’m not that well versed unfortunately)
Family: Oh that implies I’ve thought this far. If Venaric has any living family, he’s not very fond of them, as he doesn’t care how long he’s been away from home, and doesn’t care about visiting. However, he will have a found family! But I’ll save that for the next few sections.
Friends: For a bard to have friends... yeah, let’s just say he’ll socialize wherever he is, but because he’s usually moving from one place to another, he doesn’t really have friends. His first friendship bloomed begrudgingly because at first he didn’t care whether Lydia was with him or not but she followed him anyway and continued to follow him because she realized he really couldn’t take care of himself aosujkrd. He’s also friends with Marcurio for a while but I’ll save that bit for later too.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual / Bi-Pansexual / Homosexual / Demisexual / Asexual / Unsure / Other
Relationship Status: Single / Dating / Married / Widowed / Open relationship / Divorced / Not ready for dating / It’s complicated 
And here is where I tell you about Marcurio, his eventual husband. He became friends with him when he first made it to Riften (but I’m not telling you that story, that’s a fun part when I do get to write it) and Venaric will try to bed some other people (a lot of them are tavern owners or the children of, ironically) but he’ll keep coming back to Riften and basically flirt with Marcurio and Lydia is going to get very annoyed before eventually trying to play matchmaker.
Libido: Sex god / Very High / High / Average / Low / Very low / Non-existent
He’s a bard. I think that’s implied with most bards.
~ Physical ~
Build: Twig / Bony / Slender / Average / Athletic / Curvy / Chubby / Obese
Hair: White / Blonde / Brunette / Red / Black / Other - caramel brown/ blonde
Eyes: Brown / Blue-gray / Green / Black / Other
Skin: Pale / Fair / Olive / Light Brown / Brown / Very Brown / Other
Height: 5′6
Weight: 125
Scars: He is very proud of his lack of scars - up until the moment a dragon nearly slashes him in two and he is very lucky Lydia is able to stich him back together. So then there will be a large one across his chest (and the idiot will finally wear armor)
Facial Features: He has very thin, well kept eyebrows, and keeps a very well-trimmed goatee. He has very high cheekbones and a squared jaw.
Hair Style: You can pretty much bet he’ll have that circlet on at all times, so his hair usually stays out of his face. He doesn’t really do anything with it other than that, but he likes it about shoulder length.
Tattoo(s): None, but I could totally see him accidentally getting one while very drunk.
~ Choose ~
Dogs or cats? He wouldn’t be able to keep up with a dog, and would like how cats will usually do their own thing.
Birds or nugs? Is that supposed to be bugs? Either way it’ll definitely be birds because of their songs. I can see him using them for inspiration or trying to copy them.
Snakes or spiders? You’ve unlocked: phobias! Venaric has arachnophobia and will use a stream of fire uncontrollably until they are dead.
Red or blue?
Yellow or green?
Black or white? 
Coffee or tea? or whatever the equivalent is lmao
Ice cream or cake? He likes multiple kinds of cake, if you know what I mean 😏
Fruits or vegetables? 
Sandwich or soup?
Magic or melee? You can bet he’ll try to keep an enemy at bay with his magic before having to engage in anything closer ranged.
Sword or bow? pfft a bow? Nah
Summer or winter? The cold does not make for good travel, nor is it very good for his instruments.
Spring or autumn? 
The Past or The Future? He sings about the past all the time, that’s what bards do. He especially doesn’t want to think about the future for awhile anyway, because he doesn’t even believe he is/want to be the dragonborn for a while.
I don’t really know who has ocs or not so I’ll just @ all my friends who see this and want to join in!
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leekimdramas · 4 years
Text
7.7 billion in love
International couples is a pretty common thing but understanding where we are coming from is very important to make that relationship going.
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The show introduces us to new cultures and completely different opinions on dating and how it should be done.
In the first part of the show, they talked about statistics and what they would do in their country which may seem pretty boring but some things may shock you.
For example, a guest from Morocco said that it is unacceptable by your religion and even law to live with their partner before marriage.
Another part of the episode was hearing the story of an international couple and discussing what went wrong and what makes the topic better is the differences between the cultures as they have quite diverse ideas from one another.
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The hosts are also amazing as they made the studio feel comfortable enough for everyone to be open and speak their mind.
Okay, maybe Heechul suffered a bit this episode as everyone teased him with Momo but it was really fun to watch.
Honestly, I really liked Dong Yeob and Heechul’s chemistry as they been on the shows together before and they know how to work with each other.
Yoo In Ah did an amazing job, she was great at reading the story and made me remember how incredible she is. 
She also wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and disagree if she thought differently which made me like her even more.
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What amazed me the most was the guest and how the producers tried to find people from different countries.
Here is the guest list: Angelina Danilova (Russia), Joseph Detlef Nemelka (USA), Haruta Mizuki (Japan), Zhang Yi Wen (China), Maksim Sukhonosit (Russia), Rose Kizgin (France), Oumeyma Fatih (Morocco), Joakim Sorensen (Sweden), Miki (Spain), Aancod Abe Zaccarelli (UK), Julia Anna Nathalia Barlund (Finland), Zeno Slamet (South Africa), Jorge Yahyt Pena Herrera (Columbia), Tabea Tenberg (Germany) and a famous Korean person which I will leave as a mystery.
As you see there are so many different people so the first question that would come to the mind is, how they include everyone and isn’t that a bit too much?
At least that was what I thought at first and was a bit afraid of. Can deal with that many people?
But to my surprise, they included pretty much everyone, maybe only Zeno wasn’t that talkative. 
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It is also very fun to watch their guest as they already seemed like good friends.
When the host said that they can not date during the show both girls and guys acted (or not) that they’re sad and Jorge even asked: “When will she show end?”
This show was definitely a good one to watch as it will make you laugh and see different perspectives and understand the people a bit more.
Personally, I watched this show on kshow123 but if you know the legal way that would, of course, be much better.
Oh and if you are now thinking that you would like to join the show, my advice is to learn Korean and have dating experience then maybe you will get lucky. 
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Random Notes:
Can I just say I love Yoo In Ah’s voice, it’s so soft and calming...
New drinking game: drink every time Heechul mentions Knowing Brothers. I bet some of the guests are going to show up there someday.
Dong Yeob’s ears are still getting red when he’s embarrassed and it’s so funny to watch especially when he knows it himself and all he can do is laugh it off.
A new thing is that they showed tattoos on screen? That shocked me so much. If you don’t know in Korean television they usually don’t do that and cover up all the tattoos that can be seen.
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thedeviltohisangel · 4 years
Text
He’s A God, He’s A Man: 12
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I’ve got her forever.
masterlist is my url/writing.
It was difficult for Lydia to sneak away from Tommy after the events with the car. Luckily, she had had the help of Polly. Polly was beginning to get nervous for the safety of Ada and her unborn child if she kept down the path of trusting Freddie and not looking out for herself first and foremost. Which is why Polly had slipped Lydia a piece of information. The address of Stanley Chapman.
“I could use this for a bargain perhaps,” Lydia murmured around her teacup of whisky. She thinks that is what Polly was getting at but she wanted to make sure before she went to pass it along.
“I think that is what any woman with a head on her shoulders would do,” Polly hummed in agreement. So it was settled. Polly created a crisis at the betting shop big enough to pull Tommy from his current role of nurse to Lydia, then she quietly slipped away to meet with Campbell.
“Your message said you have an address for me,” Campbell stated without any warmth behind his voice as he watched Lydia appear in the statue hall.
“The address of Stanley Chapman.” Lydia pulled the piece of paper from her purse and handed it to the Inspector. He merely looked at it.
“I asked for Freddie Thorne.”
“This is instead of Freddie Thorne.” Campbell rolled his eyes and walked ahead of her by a few steps.
“No deal.”
“He’s a bigger fish than Freddie. He has cash on him right this moment that is a gift from the Russian Government.” That got his attention. Lydia leaned into. “If he talks, you’ll have proof.”
“Have you dirtied yourself so much in Tommy Shelby’s sheets that you are now risking yourself to protect that nasty family?” Campbell reached for the paper but Lydia quickly pulled it back from his reach.
“You let Ada and Freddie leave the city.”
“Very well.” Lydia let him grab the paper. “You should know, Miss Wilson, that Mr. Churchill is getting quite impatient. If the guns take any longer to materialize, then I fear I may be replaced. And my replacement may not be as amenable to your requests.” She held his stare unwavering.
“And you say this for my sake?” She felt safe in Birmingham now. She knew what Tommy and his family were capable. If she lost the protection of Campbell, Tommy would protect her better than he ever could anyways.
“I would do things that would shame the devil on my last day. Starting by making sure that scum lover of yours has his head stoved in with a shovel or mallet. His sister and her unborn child wouldn’t be spared. I’d spare the littlest one. Shove him into an adult prison where men have an appetite for little boys like him. Don’t make it so my decision comes before yours,” he finished. Lydia tightened her hand around the handle of the pistol in her purse but didn’t pull it out.
“Need I remind you, Mr. Campbell, how far over even Winston Churchill’s head my stepfather can go?” she whispered back menacingly. He merely held her gaze until she got sick of looking at him, Lydia turning around and holding her head high as she left the scene. Polly would handle delivering the news of the deal to Ada and Freddie along with the funds for them to take a train out of Birmingham and far, far away. If she could leverage this horrid deal with Campbell to the benefit of her newfound family, then that is what she was going to do.
----
“Gentleman and my lady,” Tommy said with a nod and smile in the direction of Lydia, “I have in my hand the first legal betting license for the Shelby family.” He offered the crowd one of his most genuine smiles as they erupted into cheers and applause. Lydia giggled against his lips as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a happy, celebratory kiss.
“You’re a real business, Thomas,” she whispered with a smile. They pulled their faces away but kept their bodies close. “Congratulations.” She hadn’t been there physically every step of the way but she had always been in the back of Tommy’s mind. He was always working to honor her memory in some way. Honor the sacrifice he thought she had made at the hospital in France.
“A man deserving of meeting your mother?” Lydia looked at him quizzically.
“Where did that come from?”
“Turning parts of the business legitimate, it’s not for me. It’s for you. It’s for us. I know this isn’t the world you grew up in. Probably isn’t the world you imagined yourself living in but I want to change that if I can. Make my life a place you feel like you belong. Make my company feel like something you can support and be a part of.” Tommy knew having one piece of his business being honest did not make him an honest man. But it was a step in that direction. He didn’t want his future with Lydia to have to operate underground. She deserved to be able to stand proudly in the light.
“Oh, Tommy, I am sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change in order for me to be proud of you or to show you off.” If only she had known he was harboring these feelings about not being adequate enough to meet her family and take a place officially in her life. She would have quelled those fears instantly.
“When I reach the top of the mountain, I want you standing there beside me.”
“There is no place I would rather be.” They sealed their promise with a kiss.
----
“Arthur these cigarettes smell like they’ve gone rotten in transit,” Lydia said as her face scrunched up at the odor. “They have bite marks too like rats have gotten to them.” She carried the box she had opened over to the bar where the newest owner of The Garrison sat looking through papers.
“All the wharves have rats,” he replied simply.
“Can we find a better way to transit our products then? So we can spend money on better quality items?” Arthur didn’t answer her, just continuing to tap against the paper. “Tommy mentioned taking more of the business legal. Starting small, here in The Garrison, seems like a good plan.”
“Tommy also doesn’t want you involved in the operations of the Shelby family that aren’t legal so keep your questions about the cigarettes to yourself.” Lydia rolled her eyes in frustration. Of course Tommy was now spreading his over protective nature to his brothers. He was creating a shield around her that she did not ask for.
“I just want to help where I can. Not feel like dead weight around here.” Ever since she was old enough to, Lydia had been striving for independence. She worked when she didn’t have to. Abandoned the comforts of the posh, upper class life that had been offered to her and forged a path on her own. Tommy Shelby was not going to be an obstacle in her way.
“If you want to help, you can check my adding up.” Arthur turned the papers towards her. “He doesn’t do it because he wants to stifle you but because he wants to protect you. Tommy doesn’t know any other way.” Lydia’s hand paused where she was correcting one of Arthur’s mathematical errors.
“He doesn’t obey the law but he has rules. Tommy is a very precise man who doesn’t do anything by accident.” Lydia turned the paper back to Arthur and grabbed a bottle of whisky from behind the bar and two glasses, one for her and one for Arthur.
“Tommy is the reason for our family’s success. I fight him once in awhile but without him, we wouldn’t all be together.” Lydia thought about the future her and Tommy had planned for themselves back in France. How they would buy a house in the countryside. Plenty of grass and rolling hills for the horses Tommy was going to train. Plenty of room for her to have a flower garden and some vegetables. They’d have little ones running between their legs. Desperate to help weed or ride horses or go exploring with the dogs. She hopes there was still a life out there for her that resembled such a dream.
“He shoulders all of it. I just want to share in that burden with him. Be a true partner.” Both of them drained their glasses in one gulp.
“If he lets you, you’ll be the luckiest person in the world.”
“And why is that?”
“Because Tommy doesn’t let anyone in. He’s tougher to crack than No Man’s Land. You’d have the keys to the kingdom.” She thought about what he said for the moment.
“Do you trust me to protect him?” she asked. So much was made about Tommy protecting her but she was just as protective of him.
“You can hold your whisky so that’s a good sign.” Lydia smiled at him, grateful for at least that. “You know I love you like a sister, Lydia, but Tommy is my blood. I will always have one eye looking out for him.” It was his polite way of saying that he would never fully trust her. That Tommy would always take precedent and he would always be watching to make sure she stayed in line.
“I can respect that,” she said as she refilled their glasses and clinked them together.
“Was my math correct?” Arthur asked as he finally returned his attention to the paper she had given back to him.
“It is now that I’ve redone it,” she giggled. Arthur just shook his head with a smile.
----
After the ups and downs of the past few days, Lydia felt like she needed to center herself. She had been forced to make religion a big part of her life when she was younger, her belief fading a bit as she spent time on the battlefield in France. But something inside of her was telling her to light a candle and say a prayer. That remembering the lighter parts of her past and reconnecting with her spirituality would do her good in this new and confusing world she found herself living in. She found her mother’s prayer veil tucked in a drawer of her flat and made her way to the church down the street. At first Lydia had been nervous she would now know what to say. That it had been so long she had forgotten how to do it. But the thoughts wouldn’t stop coming once she let the first one out. She started by praying that her mother was okay. That she would forgive Lydia for leaving for England. She prayed for Thomas. That he would be protected as he embarked on his war against Kimber. She didn’t pray for victory, only his well being once it was all said and done. Finally, she prayed for herself. That she would be able to entangle herself from the web of Campbell. That there was a happy future for her no matter who was in it. That would day she would feel fulfilled.
“Arthur said you’ve been asking questions.” The serenity of the church was interrupted as Tommy came strolling in.
“I was just trying to help,” she replied with a defeated sigh. “You’re wasting money on product that is being destroyed before you have the chance to sell it.” Tommy scoffed.
“And what do you know about running a business?”
“Nothing. I’m just a barmaid.” She stood and turned to face him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her in her veil. The lace was dainty as it draped across her face, the shadows and light of the candles flickering across her cheeks. She looked like the angel he already knew she was. He had dreamt about her in the veil of a bride before. This felt like the forbidden fruit being dangled in front of him.
“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about the future of your employment at The Garrison. I’m firing you.”
“Thomas-” He held up a hand to stop her.
“This came in the mail for you today.” In the top corner was the Bellevue Hospital School of Nursing. Her name was on the front. She had a feeling what it was before she opened it, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. 
“What did you do?” she warbled as she finally slid the paper from the envelope. She read just enough to see that she had been accepted into their nursing program.
“I sent in your application. Paid your first year up front. You don’t belong here as a barmaid in a rundown pub. You belong somewhere you can save lives. Do what it is you’ve always wanted. I won’t let myself be the reason you hold yourself back.” He had been thinking about this ever since the incident at Kimber’s house. Lydia was so much more than that. Deserved so much more than him and this life. He’d force her out if he had to.
“Tommy I don’t know how I ended up finding you in France, how I ended up finding you again here, but I know I am meant to be with you. This school is all the way in New York-”
“I know. I’ve booked your passage on a ship.” She shook her head.
“I can’t go. Not knowing what I’m leaving behind.” Lydia stepped closer to him, Tommy reaching up to wipe the tears from under her eyes.
“You have to. You have to get out of here. Away from me and my business. It’s safer that way. You’ll be happier.”
“I can’t accept this. Not unless you come with me.” She thinks that would be a fair compromise. Tommy would get his wish of her pursuing nursing school, getting out of Birmingham and she would get her wish of Tommy by her side forever. “You can meet my family like we’ve been talking about. See Lady Liberty, the Empire State Building. We can travel to Boston and see all the sights of America.”
“You would want me to go with you? I can’t leave the business.”
“It’ll only be for two years. Until I graduate. You can make the trip back a few times during then. Trust Polly and John and Arthur to keep everything in line. You could use a breath of fresh air. We can be happy and safe in New York. Together.” He looked at her wide eyes that were full of love and hope.
“Heads, I go. Tails, I stay.” 
“You’re trusting this decision to a coin?”
“It’s what I’ve done my whole life. I won’t change now.” He released her waist and pulled a coin from his pocket. “Whichever it is, I love you.” Lydia frantically pulled him in for a kiss, trying not to think about how the coin his end would decided if this was their last kiss or not. She held her breath as he flicked it into the air.
@flecksphoenix​ @girl-w-a-quill​ @odetostep​ @itsilvermorny​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @lemmyjelly​ @blues022​
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death-himself · 4 years
Text
Could You Meet Me Beyond the Grave?—Chapter 12
Summary: On this episode of "Virgil is Bad at Peopling" we tune in on Virgil attempting to have a conversation with one of his soulmates and, despite how horrible he is at it, it somehow ends okay
Pairings: LAMP (mainly Moxiety in this)
Word Count: 1,627
Warnings: Awkwardness, mentioned gore, lots of talk about death, talk of discrimination, talk of religion (specifically paganism and implied Catholicism), I think that’s it? This chapter talks about kinda dark stuff
previous next (AO3 Link)
“So, uh...”
“Hey...” I looked over at Patton, letting out an awkward laugh. “Hey...” We went silent again, unsure of what to say. I heard him shifting from one foot to the other uneasily.
“So do you, uh...” I gestured inside vaguely, clearing my throat, “wanna come in, or just...stand there?”
“Oh, yeah!” He followed me in hastily, taking a seat across from me at the dining table. I pulled my knees up to my chest, his gaze feeling like laser beams burning through my face.
“Nice place you have.” Patton tried to start a conversation. I quickly tried to come up with a response.
“Yeah, I bet it looks a lot better now that you’re not...tied up and stuff.” Oh god, I wish I had just gone to hell like a normal human. Patton went silent. I was fully ready for him to realize that he wasn’t safe here and make a run for it.
He tapped on the table a few times, before speaking again. “Anyway! How have you been?” We don’t talk about the kidnapping, got it.
“Could be worse, I guess. I could be dead.” I wanted to smack myself. I was already dead. “How—How about you, Patton?”
“Been doing pretty good.” He answered quickly, seeming to want to turn the conversation as fast as possible. “I’ve been really busy with work lately, so I haven’t really had any time to visit.”
“You actually wanted to come to this place?”
“Well...this is your home, isn’t it? I wanted to see you.” I felt my cold heart flutter in my chest. I tried to hide my face from him, standing up and heading to the fridge.
“Do you want anything to drink?” I opened the fridge, being met with the smell of iron and rotting flesh. I slammed it shut. Oh yeah, there was a dismembered body in there, stuffed in between some red bull and alcohol, the only other things we really kept in there. I turned to the counters, hoping something on there would save me. “We have, uh...water?”
Patton seemed to understand what was going on and said in a high-pitched, squeaky tone, “Yeah. Water sounds nice.” I grabbed two water bottles out of our supply, hands trembling and face burning.
“Hey, how about we go talk somewhere else? I mean, this area is great, but...it’s a little stuffy.” I nodded stiffly. “Yeah, sounds good.”
Patton led me outside, opting to sit with his back against the tower wall. I took a seat a few feet away from him, pulling my hood over my head in shame.
“Hey, Vee?” My throat dried up.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I’ve been kinda curious. So...how did you die?” Every muscle in my body tightened, the choker around my throat feeling as if it were growing tighter and tighter.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” I mumbled out.
“Okay! That’s fine! I won’t ask.” Patton was quick to try and soothe me, the grass and dirt under him rustling as he moved. I huffed, taking a small sip of my water to try and calm myself.
“Is it alright if I ask about the others? Or would it be better if I just asked them myself?”
“Eh. They don’t really mind.”
“Okay...then, how did they die?”
“Remy was stabbed outside of a strip club by his ex. He makes jokes about it now, but when he first became a Willow his main goal was revenge.” I snickered, trying to hide it behind my hand. “It was wild when we met his ex while we were hunting. He had so much fun torturing him.” I could only imagine the horrified look Patton was giving me, but hey, I was just describing how things really were. How dark we were (and still are).
“Emile had colon cancer; it wasn’t really caught until it had progressed too far for any real treatment. He was in pain for less than a year, and he died surrounded by his loved ones, so he doesn’t feel as bad about his death as the rest of us did with ours.” I hesitated for a moment, wondering if Dee would be okay with me talking about his story.
“Dee was alive in the 1800’s. He was also studying witchcraft and paganism. In a very...not so open town. A friend of his found an altar to one of the deities he worshipped in his room and promised to keep it a secret. But then he went ahead and told some people about it, and suddenly Dee was getting beat to death by his own parents.”
“Ouch.” Patton winced in sympathy.
“Yeah. After he became a Willow, the first thing he did was hex the guy, and every time he tells me this story he hums something about the three-fold law being bullshit; I have no idea what that is—it might be a personal belief—at this point I’m too afraid to ask, but yeah.” I fidgeted with my sleeves as the words fell out of my mouth.
“I guess that’s why he didn’t like us too much...being human and all.”
“Eh. Could be one of the reasons. I mean, it’s been 200 years and he still doesn’t even allow us to watch him do any of his stuff. Pretty sure he keeps his altars hidden in his closet or somethin’.” I shrugged, pulling my jacket tighter around myself. The air had begun getting cooler—the sun must have been setting.
Before I could point it out to Patton, he asked another question. “What do you usually do for fun around here?” I rubbed the nape of my neck, head tilted to the sky. “Just...stay in my room. Read, watch some movies, go on the Internet. Stuff like that.”
“You have internet here?”
“At this point, I basically am the internet. My powers are the only thing keeping the electricity running, and I’m the only one smart enough with modern tech to figure out a way of connecting to the Internet. Which is weird, considering I was raised in the 1960s.” Patton hummed, drumming his fingers on his thigh as he thought.
“You have Netflix?”
“You mean that Netflix and chill thing Remy talks about?” Patton laughed, before pulling out his phone and tapping my arm with it.
“Why don’t we just hang out and watch some shows? Inside, it’s getting kinda dark, and cold...and scary.”
I sighed, standing up. “Alright, if you’re okay with it.” He hopped up enthusiastically, taking me gently by the arm and allowing me to lead him to my room, acting only a bit like a mother hen as we climbed up the stairs.
I blocked the door off with a chair once the two of us stepped in. “Hey, Virgil?”
“Hmm?”
“What happened to your window?”
“An...accident flew through it.”
“What kind of accident?”
“Remy. Remy was the accident.” Patton whispered a small oh, before slowly drifting over to my bed, sitting down and supposedly looking through his phone for something to watch. “Let’s just go with Voltron.”
“The fuck is that?” I laid down on my bed behind him. I heard some sort of opening begin playing, and he shifted, lying down next to me and holding his phone up between us.
I felt my face begin burning again as I felt his shoulder against mine, trying my best to focus on the audio instead while my brain continued to scream about the warmth of his body next to mine.
His arm had dropped onto my chest, the show having been long forgotten. His breathing was slow and steady. His head was tucked into my chest, a bit of drool seeping into my shirt. He was asleep. Around me of all people. We had only been three episodes in, too; he must have been tired.
I carefully reached for his face, fingers meeting the plastic of his big round glasses, and slowly pulling them off of his face, putting them on my bedside dresser.
A ding came from both of our phones, a text in our group chat, I guess. I checked my phone; Roman had begun spamming the chat asking where Patton was, followed by Logan asking him to calm down, and Roman spamming even more because of that. You said you’d be home and safe by ten! It’s eleven! Please tell me you’re okay! You’re okay, right? They didn’t kill and eat you, did they?
I sighed, texting back explaining what was happening. As if I believe you! What have you done to my poor prince? I groaned, causing Patton to mumble something, and me to go silent again. I thought for a moment, before going to my camera and taking as best of a picture of Patton as I could, sending it to Roman with the simple caption of He’s asleep, dipshit. Roman went strangely quiet after that.
Kiss him goodnight for the two of us. I blinked, asking Siri to read the line again and again, before coming to the conclusion that it was indeed real. I turned to Patton, running a hand slowly through his soft hair. I bit at my lip, before slowly bringing my head closer to his.
With a gentle peck at the top of his head, I whispered a soft, “Goodnight, Pat.” I then turned back to my phone and, in my flustered state, answered with “The deed is done,” resulting in multiple concerned messages from Roman.
I simply turned mine and Patton’s phones to silent, carefully running my hand through Patton’s hair again, and slowly drifting off to sleep myself, feeling warm and content for the first time in years.
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techmomma · 4 years
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Being Prepared
In uncertain times, now, perhaps more than ever, is an important time to discuss a difficult subject: 
Advance Directives, aka “What if I or a loved one are in the hospital and cannot make decisions for myself or them?” 
Talking about such matters, especially our philosophies, beliefs, and what we want to happen in the event we cannot make decisions for ourselves, is a topic that more often comes up in the midst of emergency. For most, it’s a surprise. And for most, they heap on themselves a stressful situation that can absolutely be avoided with some heart-to-heart discussions beforehand. Below, I will outline some important topics you can discuss with someone you trust, so that they know what to do, in case the unexpected happens.
CW: death, death mention
From personal experience, being willing to discuss such things was one of the few things that saved us during the sudden, unexpected emergency of my late fiance falling into a coma due to diabetic complications. We had a limited time window; hesitating too late, and the doctors would have been legally prohibited from removing his life support no matter what we chose. Luckily, he and I, both believers in the death positive movement, understood the importance of this kind of discussion, and had talked about figures such as Terry Pratchett and dignity of dying. Knowing that my fiance would not want to end up like him helped steer us in the right direction, regarding what quality of life would have been acceptable, and what would not.
Which brings us to the subject: just what do you talk about? How do you phrase it? Who do you discuss this with?
For most of us, the person we discuss this with will be a trusted family member. Perhaps a spouse, or domestic partner, perhaps your significant other. For others, this may be a trusted friend. Regardless, this needs to be someone you trust will honor your wishes, rather than instating their own. Or, if they did, someone you trust to make the right decisions. This is the person you can designate as your Health Care Agent. In addition, as a safety measure, you can designate others as Alternate Health Care Agents in the event your Primary is unable to for whatever reason, and have this discussion with them. Having two or three individuals who know your wishes and can be contacted is a pretty safe bet. This is especially important for those in long distance relationships or persons who live away from home; have your trusted person, but also have someone who is physically close to you who can travel to the hospital. Have people who can contact others on your behalf, or can be contacted if you cannot.
What you want to happen, in the event you cannot make decisions, is called an Advance Directive. For the state of Washington, you can fill and print out this form, if you do not have an attorney. I highly recommend looking it over whether you live in Washington or not; it has a lot of examples of the kinds of things you can make decisions on and what to talk about!
So how do you breech an admittedly difficult and possibly painful subject? That will depend on you, but the person you trust to fulfill your wishes should, ultimately, be someone who is at least willing to discuss this subject with you, regardless of the difficulty. 
If need be though, or in need of a reasonable segue into the subject, this is my permission to you to use the example of my late fiance, who suffered an unexpected diabetic coma in the middle of the night when alone and could not make decisions for himself, eventually culminating in a termination of life support as per his wishes. If it can happen to him, a healthy man in his early 30s, it could certainly happen during a COVID-19 outbreak, which seems to be a russian roulette in regards to whose case is mild and whose is lethal. If it can help you make decisions that benefit yourself and the emotional well-being of your loved ones, I am more than confident he would give his blessings.
So, what do you talk about? Anything and everything. Again, try checking out example Advance Directive forms, and some Financial Power of Attorney forms (you may need witnesses for these forms to be legalized, but in reality, any form you fill out is still technically legal and admissible in a court of law). But I have some subjects that both my late fiance and current significant other have discussed that will, at the very least, give any Health Care Agents you designate a good idea of what you would like done. Also check out your medical provider’s website, if they have online access. Mine actually has a page where I can outright fill out Health Care Agents, so I actually just filled that out today and it’s right there in their records to access in an emergency! Again, make sure the person you designate is informed and willing! Check with family members or friends too, they may be able to provide you with legal forms to formalize your wishes.
Some topics you can discuss:
Your personal beliefs regarding treatment. Do you have a spiritual leader you want contacted? Do you have religious, spiritual, or personal beliefs that might interfere with treatment? In some religions, some medical treatments may not be acceptable! If you do not have any exceptions or clauses, how far do you want medical treatment to go? If your condition is terminal, do you want treatment prolonged even if the end result is still death? Do you want hospice? Do you want to be given life-sustaining treatment (life support), even if it is known that this will only worsen or prolong a terminal condition? Do you want to be resuscitated, even if your quality of life may suffer or will be negligible? (For example, being resuscitated while in a Permanent Vegetative State?) If your condition is terminal, do you wish to pass away at home, or in the hospital? What if you are pregnant while unable to make decisions; do you want to put the survival of yourself or the baby first? If you are unsure, and know that the choices may depend on context, do you want to allow your Health Care Agent to decide? Are they comfortable and willing to make decisions like those on your behalf? Do you want your Health Care Agents to have these powers only during an emergency or in specific ways (springing) or effective and general once agreed to (durable)?
If you are alive and yourself but will need assisted living, such as wheelchairs, help with feeding, changing, bathing, dialysis, etc., who is willing to help you with this? Is your SO willing? Do you want your SO to do so? Do you want nurses and providers to do so? What are your feasible options?
Do you want to be an organ donor? Are you willing to be a full donor, which may mean your family will be unable to have an open casket? Only a partial donor? Do you only want to be able to donate specific things, if able? Where do you want those donations to go? Medical schools, other patients? 
Do you have pets? Who do you want to take care of them if you cannot? Are they able to take care of those pets? 
What do you want to happen to your material possessions? Who do you want to wipe your laptop of those seedy sites you visit? Do you want specific things to go to specific people? Do you want it all to go to your Health Care Agent, who can then decide what to do with those items? Who do you want your money and assets to go to? (Remember, your loved ones cannot be billed for the dead’s debts, no matter what companies claim!) 
If you die, what do you want to happen with your body? How much money are you comfortable with loved ones spending? Is there a specific ritual you want performed or cultural practice observed, is there a specific place you would like to be buried? Do you want to be embalmed? Do you want to be cremated? Where would you want your ashes scattered? Do you ultimately not care, even if you have preferences, and want your loved ones to do what is best for them in regards to their own grieving process? 
These are obviously difficult subjects and for some people, these may be hard to discuss. Death is a hard subject! Especially death of ourselves or loved ones. I can tell you from experience though, how grateful we were that these things were discussed beforehand--and how grateful I was to my late fiance for taking so much heartache and stress off of our shoulders. Talking about these things can, in some cases, be an ultimate act of love to unburden the people you care about. (You may also be surprised at how easy it is to talk about the subject, once you just get started!)
For some of us, talking about these things can feel like paranoia, or obsession over death--or even, if we have a history of suicidal ideation, that we may worry about worrying others. Just state beforehand that you do not have thoughts of self-harm in talking about this; only that you want to be prepared. Your trusted ones will understand--and may thank you, for making your wishes known. 
It is not paranoia or obsession with death to care about the stress your loved ones may be under in a trying time. Remember: we make these to prepare for the unexpected, but make them in the hope and likelihood they will only gather dust.
For more info on the death positive movement, understanding your rights regarding Advance Directives, practical advice on the handling of your body, and greener funeral options, check out Caitlin Doughty’s youtube, aka Ask A Mortician.
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