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#i just think hannah is very english okay like very english like that kind
fentoaster · 4 months
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oh boy I love games
Thanks @hannahmanderr for the tag!!! Making this into a separate post bc the original was getting kinda long
Are you named after anyone? Nope!
When was the last time you cried? hmm probably 2 days ago? Due to a book series a friend of mine recommended *cough cough* Thanks PD *cough*
Do you have any kids? I do not, and most likely will not
What sports do you play/have played? listen I was a real nerd in school. Absolutely not athletic, never did any sports (except soccer for half a year when I was a 5 y/o)
Do you use sarcasm? More than I should probably
What's the first thing you notice about people? Good question, I guess maybe how they carry themselves confidence wise? I'm not very self confident regularly so I guess I know what to look for haha
What's your eye color? Blue
Scary movies or happy endings? ough I like scary stuff but I will go for a happy ending over unhappy any day
Any talents? uhh I suppose baking? I like doing it and I like to think I'm good at it lmao
Where were you born? I don't want to say specifics here, so I'll say it's one of the two non-contiguous US States. Pick wisely :)
What are your hobbies? Baking (yes this will come up again) drawing, do video games count… I like to paint rocks in the summertime!
Do you have any pets? Two doggies: one pom and one mystery mix boy, and two cats: Ollie (russian blue) and Hobbes (lil orange guy)
How tall are you? 5'2", mayyybe 5'3"
Favorite subject in school? I liked English because of creative writing, but it was just okay I think. I never liked math until the latter half of high school and now kind of love it (can't do it very well tho)
Dream job! I think I'm working it right now! I work at a local bakery and do all the bread baking :] wouldn't change it for a thing
I believe everyone who I was going to tag has likely already been tagged (Thanks Hannah /j) so as to not blow up their notifs- anyone who wants to do this, PLEASE say I tagged you! I'd love to see your answers!
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paleclementine · 5 months
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Happy Halloween! It feels like October 2nd was just yesterday. This month went by crazy fast. Today I am dressed up as Joe from Bladerunner 2049, which basically is just a long black coat, brown pants, boots, and that bandage he wears during the "you look lonely, I can fix that" scene. I really like it. Idk it makes me feel sooo like, cool. Like my internal is now external. I really do feel like that movie and it's nice to listen to that kind of music and walk around with a "bloody" bandage on my nose and have my coat flare out behind me in the creeping winter cold.
I didn't manage to write my Shakespeare essay but that's okay because he extended the deadline. For some fuckin reason. I have to get that done by Thursday. So I'm not doing it today, and probably not tomorrow. Most likely the day of. Because that's how I roll. Oh and I;m in British writers class (obviously) HOLY FUCK how many fucking times can the people in my class reference Jane Eyre in one day?? it's literally not in the curriculum people are just teacher's pets. and freaks. Um anyway, I lost my train of thought lmao. But on another note As I was walking through campus I noticed literally NO ONE was dressed up until you got closer to the English building. lmao. Someone as their OC (probably), someone as Kobeni, someone as scarlet witch. And a really ugly guy in my class dressed as Dazai who looks more like an extreeeemely hungover and ugly version of him. Very sloppy. Do not approve.
I posted a new chapter of my fanfic which yayyy but I haven't gotten as many projected hits as I thought or a single comment which is odd because there's always one user who comments very enthusiastically. Eh, whatever. People have shit going on. ANd no one is going to be reading fanfic near Halloween. Other than me, of course, bc I am reading a longfic about Avatar bc Anthony got me back into it.
So anyway. This weekend. Me and Anthony went to SLC and stayed at Amy's. We ate ramen and hung out at Amy's house Thursday. It was really pleasant :) Friday we... uhhh I don't think we did much until we went to the FNAF movie. I could write a whole dissertation about how much I hated that movie, but all that to say, it was a huge let down. And no Markiplier! Sat we hung out with Amy and went to "witchfest" which was really fun and more like a farmer's market than a hallloweeen festival but still fun. Sorry for typos I'm being quiet. After that we got hotpot which was BUSSS. I'm getting better at talking to Amy but I'm not sure why. Sunday we literally did nothing but watch IT and eat In N Out. We got burritos and left yesterday.
Yesterday. Oh boy, yesterday. I walked into my apartment to go into my room and got stopped at the door by Priya, who gave me that -kayla-english-madeline-hubbart STARE and said
"HAnnah! We haven't seen you in so long!" "oh! I've been gone all weekend. HAhaha. For halloweekend. Hhaha." "ohhhh did you go to the parties down there?" "*scoffs for some reason* no, haha, not at all." "You should hang out sometime!" "okay :)" "no seriously, you should hangout sometime." "I want to!" "Okay!" "Okay!" which, okay, I can see what you're thinking. Hannah, she was being so nice and inviting you to hang out with them! You don't know how girls work. She said it like a threat, or at least it felt like one.
Anyway, I go into my room, tidy it a little, check to see if I can do my laundry (for the first fucking time in three weeks. It''s full). Take out my room trash. Shower. All the while, hearing them in the living room. I want to document what Jimena said because I seriously think she is the least self-aware, miserable person I fucking know. "People always think I'm bisexual. But Im straight. Straight latinaaaaa! but when I'm drunk, I'll seriously make out with anyone. Even girls." like. holy fuck. How does she not realize how actually fucking (and I don't use this work lightly) RETARDED she sounds. Also, Stephen got a girlfriend (fatJay, who is not fat at all and Jimena is a cunt for calling her that) and Jimena bought mini pickles and said "hey guys! this is how big Stephen's penis is!" Yeah okay bitch who led him on and was a completely fucking mess----- okay, ranting about her is cathartic but pissing me off. So basically, they were really annoying and sang star spangled banner at the top of their lungs on a karaoke machine from Five Below and burped like Hailey does, so I pledged not to come out of my room until everyone had gone to bed. Which would have been fine.
If not for the migraine.
Always the fucking migraine. I holed myself away in actual anguish, waiting for them to go to bed, all the while watching depressive tiktoks (I redownloaded it) of landscapes with Silent Hill audios n shit. and I can't express how much I was suffering and for how long. My suffering and my migraine were what I remember most about the night, despite the details I shared about my roommates. everyone went to bed at 3am. I darted out to get some water. And my chickpeas. Anthony came over and brought my leftover burrito. I broke down in his arms. I seriously felt like i had knives on the right side of my face. He tucked me in and I fell asleep. At 5:30 am. Had a dream where someone was drilling peoples faces and realized it was my rommates with the blender and woke up 15 minutes before my alarm at 11:15. Got dressed. Blade runner. Went to class.
well, that was depressing. *zooms in camera like a millennial*
On a lighter note, today is me and Anthony's second anniversary. I have no Idea what we're going to do for that tomorrow or for Halloween today, but I really like being blade runner. It's fun. I want to make a tiktok of me in the mountains and post it later.
I'm so glad I met Anthony. I love him more than I can express. I want to write about him later. I will.
Later.
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rainglade · 7 months
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so... a post for those curious about my names, why i have more than one I use both professionally and socially, etc (if this is new to you, surprise! i've actually been going by different names since around 2013 lol) but anyways...
So, mostly everyone I've ever known pre-2020 has always known me as 'Pranav,' which is a very nice name, and it still is my name in every way that it matters. It is the slightly incorrect romanization of the Sanskrit name प्रणव, which is romanized as 'praṇava,' and it is another version of the universe's sacred vibration, ॐ (ōṃ). It shares roots with the dharmic and yogic concept of "prāṇa," the life force or "flame within." It also can be split into its oldest parts, "प्र" meaning "before," and "णव" which is the oldest word for "atom." It is the culmination of the three aspects of existence and the three states of consciousness. I love this name; I love my name.
The only time I've ever not liked the name is when dealing with people who don't put the effort into understanding cultures different from what they are used to. Names are the closest thing we can get to summarizing our entire sense of being into a word, hence why they hold such high meaning and significance in Deśi cultures. In Sanskrit, pronunciation, diction, and enunciation are very important to the meanings of words. Because of this, I can understand why Western monolinguals have so much trouble understanding and pronouncing things; they speak a language where their words can be pronounced 20 different ways and still hold the same meaning.
When I left everyone I knew and started fresh in university, a university where I knew pretty much nobody, I realized that it was a chance to make people pronounce my name correctly. However, when I started doing this, not only was it tiring to constantly correct people (they either spent 10 minutes trying, which is very kind but gets tiring after a while, or they just kept mispronouncing it and didn't care to try to correct themselves), but when people started to actually pronounce my name correctly, it felt... too intimate. A friend of mine mentioned feeling this as well recently. Her name is pronounced similarly to the Hebrew/English name "Hannah," and she prefers that non-family call her Hannah rather than her name, 花, romanized as hānā. When I started hearing non-family pronounce my name correctly, it somehow felt wrong; I felt uncomfortable with it even though I thought it was what I wanted all along.
I also realized that it wasn't exactly the most unique name. In just my first month in university, I had met or heard of at least 15 other "Pranavs" out there, and knew that there were plenty more. One of them I met had the same hair type as me and a similar facial structure. Since he went to a lot of parties and was more well-known, I was mistaken for him on a few occasions, which initially was okay but soon became a bad thing once he did some not-so-good things while drunk at a party.
It was then that I started using the name Daya (properly romanized as dayā), which is a Sanskrit name meaning "mercy." It was a nice name, but it felt inauthentic since I was mainly using it to have a name that was easy to pronounce while being connected to my roots. I also realized that while the Sanskrit name is pronounced like "duh-yah," there are similar names in Hebrew and Arabic that are spelled similarly in English but pronounced differently (like "day-yah" and "day-yuh"). Since the Hebrew version is much more common, I was faced with mispronunciation once again.
It wasn't the first time I had socially gone by a different name, though. In early middle school, I sometimes used the name "Mikaal," an Abrahamic name I co-opted, or "Day," a nickname taken from a book character. In late high school, I occasionally used the name "Amani," a Kiswahili name meaning "peace."
It was after the "Daya" mispronunciation that I started to think more about what a name means to me and being more open-minded. I figured that if people were going to mispronounce my name regardless, it might as well be a name that is salient to me. Those who know me know that I absolutely love linguistics, so I put that knowledge to use to put together a name for myself. The name started out as Katres (properly romanized as qātreis or "ḳātreis"). It includes elements from the Suvarnadvipa word for love and the Bantu word for "to be healed." For a while, I used this name, as healing and love are things that are salient to who I am, and who I always will be. I knew that it was important for my name to represent aspects of my identity that were core to who I am, rather than things that would change over time. Although change is the nature of reality, there are some parts of who that are so fundamental to yourself that even if they shift, they still will be with you.
It was half a year after using this name regularly that I felt that there was something missing. I knew that I didn't want to change my name yet again (for personal and practical reasons, as I had already started using the name socially) so I decided to revise it. I noticed that "Katres" partially aligned with an old Sanskrit word that didn't have any direct English translation but loosely meant "divine balance" or "mediation." I then blended it with Katres to create "Katresai," properly romanized as qātreisaii or क़ात्रॆसाई in Devanagari and ક઼ાત્રૅસાઈ in Gujarati script. (I also loved my name as it was easy to create nicknames like Katres, Sai, and Trés from it.)
Sure, it comes with uncertainty. Sure, it comes with challenges. I've been using the name for around 3 years, so I've had a fair amount of unpredictable experiences, and I know there's more to come. Still, though, I don't really think I would want to go back and change it.
As I mentioned before, I approach my names in a more open-minded sense. I sometimes use the word "nickname" to describe Katresai since people are understanding and comfortable with the concept of a nickname. However, it's not a nickname. It's just my name. Pranav is also my name, and both names represent who I am in different ways. One is not more important to me than the other, and the idea of "names" rather than a "name" is comforting to me, even though it might not be for everyone. It gives room for change, for possibility, and for the evolution of self.
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avernale · 1 year
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Have You Seen These New Pokémon? Have you SEEN Them?
I'm going to have to start tagging these so I can find them easier. I haven't done a proper HYSTNP since Grafaiai, apparently, and I had to search by the Pokémon's names to confirm. Another one has just been revealed, so let's see all the ones I've missed real quick.
youtube
Maybe I've posted about this one. I know I've talked about it elsewhere. It was revealed in a Japan-only stream of Pokémon scientists or something viewing footage of Pokémon in Paldea. Then they see this thing and are utterly confused and discussing whether or not it's a Paldean Diglett. Nope! It's Wiglett, a Water-type Pokémon that just bears a striking resemblance to Diglett.
I imagine a lot of people think this is a lazy design. I have to wonder how many different faces they went through before giving up and using Diglett's. Or if that was the plan all along. Either way, I feel like this is Game Freak trolling us. It's like one of those Garry's Mod videos where they stretch and distort characters for a joke (and probably can't animate them properly).
youtube
When I saw it first in the video's thumbnail, I thought it was merely Paldean Girafarig. Nope! It's Farigiraf, its new evolution! I don't see how this justifies having a palindrome for a name in and of itself, but okay. I suppose its four horns could be interpreted as legs if it were upside-down?
I feel like someone created this on accident while messing with Girafarig's model and accidentally inverted its back half. The result kinda looks like an astronaut, though I would've given that honor to a Flying type. This Pokémon instead remains Normal/Psychic. I suppose its Cud Chew ability, which allows it to eat the same berry twice, is interesting.
youtube
Might as well discuss the Electric Gym Leader Iono a bit. She's a V-Tuber. Well, in-universe she's a streamer, but to us she might as well be a V-Tuber. I have to wonder if they intend to use her as a V-Tuber going forward. Hopefully not in anything I'd be inclined to watch, because I already find her annoying. I mean, she's a great character and all, but she's a little too high-energy for me.
Also, have you noticed the name puns? If you haven't, you've probably been pronouncing her name wrong. It's "Eye-On-Oh," like "Ion" (an atom or molecule that holds a charge) or, more importantly, "I dunno." Like in her catchphrase, "Whozawhatsit? Iono!", or her game, "Who's Iono's Partner? I'unno!" I notice people pronouncing it "Ee-On-Oh," and it annoys me a little. You don't have to wait for an official English pronunciation! It's right there in the captions!
When I saw Bellibolt in the thumbnail, I didn't think it was very interesting. Then Iono pointed out its "nostrils" are its real eyes, and for some reason I found it's design way more interesting. It's some kind of plasma ball avocado frog, and I am here for it. Will I put it in my party? I'unno! Maybe if I run into it soon enough.
youtube
And, finally, the latest reveal. Some PokéPundits were invited to a hands-on demo, and some mentioned seeing a new Pokémon that the NDA wouldn't allow them to elaborate on. I haven't checked to see if this was it, though, so I have to wonder.
youtube
Greavard is a great name. I assume it's a portmanteau of "Grave" and "Bernard," though it's not nearly as big as a Saint Bernard. It appears to prey on unsuspecting travelers by draining their energy as they play with it.
I feel like I've seen this exact design somewhere before. Like in a Hannah-Barbera cartoon or something. I can imagine they're at least an influence. A lot of cartoon dogs, usually bloodhounds and sheepdogs, have hidden eyes like that, but I feel like the whole thing is giving me déja-vu.
So what's my planned team look like now? Let's see...
Quaxly - "Señor Quacks" Ralts - "Señora Carena" Cyclizar/Miraidon - "Señor Huffy"/"Saint Akira" Ceruledge - "Señor Crisis.EXE" Klawf - "Señor Crabs" Wildcard
Honestly, the last two slots may as well be wildcards. It took me too long to remember Klawf, and I'm not sure if I'm as into it as I was when it was revealed. I don't know how long I should keep those slots open, though, but I also want to try and avoid rotating Pokémon in and out of my party like I seem to do every generation.
Also, I've decided to include nicknames this time around. I like to come up with a naming convention sometimes. A lot of Pokémon I caught in Shield have names that end in "-ington" or "-sworth" or begin with "Sir," though for Legendaries and Mythicals I use the title of "Lord" (and a few have "Lady") and Ultra Beasts have "Prince" or "Princess." In Legends Arceus, I end their names with the archaic Japanese honoriffic "-dono," except for Legendaries and Mythicals, which get "-sama." And Alphas get α (the lower-case of the greek letter alpha) at the beginning of theirs. And shinies I generally try to give astrological or sci-fi names.
Since Paldea is generally based on Spain, Portugal, and the general Iberian peninsula area, I thought I'd go with "Señor" or "Señora" based on gender (probably shortened to "Sr"/"Sra" to save space) and "Saint" for Legendaries. I also considered a system revolving around Tera types (in Shield, I gave Gigantamax-capable Pokémon, and sometimes ones I just caught in Max Raid Battles, names with "Max" in them), but I thought that might be too complicated for a mechanic that might not extend beyond this generation. Especially since it applies to every Pokémon in this game, whether you caught it there or not. (And I'm still expecting a reveal of bespoke Terastallized forms, too. Ulterastallization! Make it real!)
Well, that's all I have to say for now. I'm sure I'll have more to say when more Pokémon are revealed, but that remains to be seen.
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theshinyrod · 3 years
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*Diana having conversation about plants and witch shit with Barbara in room*
*Hannah barges in holding a phone and pointing*
Hannah - "GUYS! Prince Phillip has died!"
Diana - ..........
Diana - .....anyway as I was saying Barbara, rosemary is better for -
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nashibirne · 3 years
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London Calling - 1
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Yes, I'm still in my August phase and I'm not even sorry...I just can't stop thinking about the sexy mf and so this idea crossed my mind and turned into a storyline. I have to admit I'm even more nervous about posting this than usual because it's a little different from what I've written before and I really hope it's not going to bore the shit out of you. If you like this although the tension between August and my ofc builds slowly, please let me know. I appreciate every single comment, reblog and/or like! Thanks 💜
Pairing: Augut Walker x OFC (Lu Johnson)
Words: ~3.0 k
Summary and A/N: This story plays with the thought of "what if…" What if August Walker had taken another road? What if he had turned into John Lark for completely different reasons? What if he had found love before becoming a bitter, disillusioned man?So the events of "London Calling" take place about ten years prior to MI:Fallout and August Walker hasn't joined the CIA yet, he's an FBI Agent and his new mission in London that lies ahead of him is going to be a challenging one. Maybe it's even going to change his life.
Warnings: 18+! This story deals with the topic of a toxic/abusive relationship, gaslighting and problematic behavior of one of the protagonists in general. Please don't read if these topics trigger you or make you feel uncomfortable. Luckily I've never been in any kind of toxic or abusive relationship, so I lack personal experience but I hope still do this sensitive topic justice.
English is not my mother tongue but the lovely @sillyrabbit81 was so kind to be my very helpful and patient Beta! Thank you so, so much, bunny 🐇💜 You have no idea how much I appreciate your support, your encouragement, your help and the fact that you took the time to proofread this. (Edited by me, so there might still be mistakes and they're all mine)
📖 You can find my other fics on my Masterlist 📖
Credits: I don't own August Walker or anything related to MI:Fallout. Pics for the moodboard from pinterest, face claims: Lu - Hannah van der Westhuysen, Adam - Freddie Thorpe. FaceApp helped me with making August look a little younger
Taglist
@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfanfics101 @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq @kingliam2019 @pandaxnienke
So...now...off we go...story under the cut!
1
"London? Are you kidding me, Kyle?"
August Walker stopped pacing the room with an incredulous frown. He raised his eyebrows, his blue eyes fixed on the other man's face.
"Absolutely not," his superior and close friend of many years said slowly, drawling both words more than necessary to stress that he wasn't joking. "They want you in London."
"What about my promotion? You gave me your word. You wanted me to finish Operation Old Bridge and that's what I did. You wanted Tony Salerno's head on a silver platter, that's what you got."
August's voice was surprisingly calm, his expression blank but his gaze was blazing with anger and frustration. His hands were balled into fists and he only opened them to lean on Kyle's wooden desk, which was very tidy, except for the piles of case files that slowly grew larger than him.
"Damn, Kyle, I risked my life when I went undercover and joined this Mafia mob."
"I know, August, but unfortunately my hands are tied. Interpol wants our best undercover Agent and that's you. Just this last job and afterwards you can happily join the CIA." SSA Kyle Langdon leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his neck with a sigh and an apologetic shrug.
"That's exactly what you said last time. Do you expect me to believe you?"
"As I said, it's not my doing. Manchester contacted Bill because the NCB needs help, blue notice, August. You know that we cannot say no and that means...London calling, man," Kyle pointed out with a smile. "You should be grateful, it's a great opportunity. So just do your job there, return and get your promotion."
"Why don't you just send someone else and I get my promotion right now? We have many great undercover agents. Craig for example. He's crazy about British pussies. He'll love London." August straightened his tall body before crossing his arms in front of his broad chest that was forced into a white button down shirt and a black suit jacket.
"No, Craig cannot go because they want you in this operation. They asked explicitly for Agent August Walker. That's a huge appreciation of your work and a big compliment. You're only 27, August, not many FBI agents are this well known and respected at such a young age." Kyle sat up straight, mirroring August's body language.
"I don't give a shit about their respect and appreciation. I know my worth and I know I'm your best agent. I've worked very hard to get where I stand now... just one step away from becoming a CIA agent," August said angrily, his brows furrowed, his eyes dark. "Fuck, Kyle...why use an American agent in a purely British matter in the first place? They could easily…"
"Listen, August," Kyle cut in and he got up and walked around his desk to face his friend, "the thing is, I am not asking you to do this, okay? It's not a request, it's an order. There's no room to negotiate."
He gave him a friendly smile to temper his words before placing a hand on August's shoulder. "No hard feelings. It's…"
"It's the job. Yeah. I know." August took a step back and nodded his head slowly, curling his lip. He had heard his boss say these words so many times and he hated that line although he was perfectly aware that it was the truth. That was the way it worked. They got orders, they did the job, no matter what. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling a bad headache brewing behind his forehead.
"I have already talked to Sloane about this. Erica seconds the motion by Interpol because she wants you to prove yourself in another operation abroad. If you are successful you will be part of her team. It's simple, Walker. Just don't fuck this up."
"I've never fucked anything up,” August snarled, clenching his teeth, his jaw grinding.
"See, that's exactly why they want you,” Kyle answered with a triumphant smile.
****
"Lu!" Adam Mayfield knocked impatiently on the bathroom door. "Get ready. We're going to be late." He glanced at his Rolex with an annoyed sigh before he straightened his tuxedo jacket and adjusted his bow tie for the umpteenth time. "God damn, this meeting is important." He banged his fist against the door again and rolled his eyes when he heard her muffled voice behind the bathroom walls. "Just a minute, Adam."
Although he was really a little angry that it took her so long to get ready, they weren't actually late, in fact there was more than enough time to meet up with his clients at The London Opera. He had just said that to make her hurry up. Lu had the tendency to dawdle around, she got easily distracted and it was his responsibility to help her with that bad habit and usually it worked well.
Compared to the woman she was when they had met at a party more than five years ago, she had improved her behavior a lot, thanks to his efforts and his strict education. She had been common as muck when they started dating, an ordinary working class girl, smart but not a bit sophisticated, pretty but with no sense of fashion or taste, ambitious but without any connections. He had changed that, he had moulded her into the beautiful, stylish, refined and cultured woman she was now. She was his work, his success, his pride...she was his.
When the door of the bathroom that was adjacent to the master bedroom finally swung open, the welcoming sight of his fiancee interrupted his thoughts and picked up his spirits immediately.
"Wow, this was worth the wait." He eyed her up and down with a smirk and leaned in for a kiss but she stopped him with her hands pressed against his narrow chest.
"No, you're gonna ruin my make-up, darling." Lu smiled at him and spinned around to present him her dress. The black, belted Burberry gown was elegant and classy. High-necked on the front but with a low back that showed off lots of her perfect, lightly tanned skin. Chaste and sexy at the same time, just the way Adam liked it.
"That dress is stunning, baby. You look wonderful." He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close to leave a sensual kiss on her slim neck while his hands wandered to her ass where they rested for a moment before they squeezed her firm cheeks. "I really hope you're not wearing any panties."
Lu freed herself from his embrace with a frown and stepped in front of the large wall mirror opposite of their king-size bed to check her reflection one last time, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
"Of course I'm wearing panties. We're going to the opera with your VIP clients." She walked to her dressing table and took the diamond-encrusted, leaf-shaped brooch Adam had given her for their five years anniversary on New Year's Eve. "Would you help me with this?"
Adam took the piece of jewelry from her slim hand and pinned it carefully on her dress, right above her heart. He kissed her tenderly but his expression was stern when he spoke. "Strip it off."
Lu's eyes grew wide. "What?"
"You heard me. Get rid of your thong. I know you're wearing one of these slutty, tiny g-strings to make sure your look is flawless and your underwear doesn't show under your dress." His face hardened slightly, yet his voice remained soft and smooth.
"But…"
"Don't test me, Lu,” he said slowly, still smiling but screwing up his beautiful grey eyes. "I want you naked underneath that dress in case I want to have a little fun with you tonight. I mean, we both know Rigoletto is gonna be boring as fuck, we may need a little distraction." He gave her a lewd smirk and with a tiny frown and a raise of his brows he motioned her to be obedient. "You don't want anything to get in my way, do you? Not even a little piece of lace, right?"
"Of course not, Adam," she answered softly with a smile she had to force onto her lips. Lu reached under her dress with shaking hands and pulled down her panties till they hit the floor so she could step out of them carefully, making sure they wouldn't get tangled up in her stiletto heels.
"Good girl," Adam said with a wolfish grin and with a sly smile he added, "you know what, baby? I think I'm going to have a little fun with you just now. My clients can wait."
Lu didn't even try to argue with him, knowing exactly that she was in a no-win situation. She closed her eyes and turned around, lifting up her dress, when she heard him unzip his fly.
****
While Adam Mayfield was fucking his fiancee in front of a mirror in one of the most exclusive penthouses in London, August Walker was having a bad coffee, sitting at a table in the plain and pretty ugly meeting room of their FBI department at the J. Edgar Hoover Building in Washington DC, listening to the explanations of Kyle and the lead of 'Operation Brutus', Christine Carpenter. He didn't like her much but he respected her competence and her leadership qualities and most of all he trusted her with giving him the perfect fake identity for the job in London.
"So, what do you have for me, Chris?" August looked at her with a smile, but his eyes gave away that he'd rather be somewhere else.
"Well, let me just explain the background first, okay?"
She pressed a button on her laptop and the handsome face of a young man appeared on the screen behind her.
"This", she nodded at the picture, "is Adam Arthur Clive Mayfield, 27 years old, only son of Alfred Mayfair and his late wife Erica, heir of the immense family fortune and the private bank Mayfield & Holmes, that was established by his ancestors more than 200 years ago. He is one of the most eligible bachelors in the United Kingdom, and one of the richest, too. His father officially still runs the family business but he isn't in the best state of health, so in fact Mayfield junior is the one who's at the helm. Unlike his father he's not a man of integrity, he's been on the radar of the British authorities for years. From dealing drugs and other minor crimes in his college years to insider trading, investor fraud, misappropriation and money laundering nowadays. He is a big fish, has connections all over the world, drug rings, gun runners, human traffickers, you name it."
"And the Brits are not able to catch him without my help?" August couldn't help but smirk cockily.
"Don't be so full of yourself, Walker. The problem is, he is a damn genius. IQ score beyond 150, very clever, very cautious, a strategic mastermind, always ahead of the authorities. They tried to infiltrate his business a few times but they failed miserably, so now they want to concentrate on his private life."
"And this is gonna be my part?"
"Exactly," Kyle said, getting up to join Christine in front of the screen. "He has a few bodyguards he always hires from an American agency. They are known for their discretion and loyalty and the bodyguards they place with their clients are the best of the best. Unfortunately one of his bodyguards died in an accident a week ago and now he needs a new one. Luckily, we have the owner of the agency by the balls for several major crimes. He cooperates or he will end up behind bars for the rest of his life."
"To cut a long story short, he will place you with Mayfield and you can become part of his daily life. Your job consists of monitoring and collecting information and data. I will give you an exact briefing later," Christine finished Kyle's explanations.
"So I will just be his lapdog?"
"Not his," Kyle grinned, "hers."
The picture on the screen changed, now showing a young, blonde woman. The second he saw her, he judged her.
He could tell what she was like, just by her looks, by the way she jutted her chin in the picture, by her perfectly manicured fingers, by her flawless make up and the expensive clothes. He knew women like her, a walking stereotype, the blond, beautiful Trophy Wife Barbie that's always by Millionaire Ken's side. Pretty on the outside, boring on the inside. Lame bimbos that only lived for showing off their designer clothes and it-bags, tripping around in high heels that cost more than he earned in a month, finding self-fulfilment in stupid things like designing overpriced furniture, running a yoga studio or doing charity stuff. Useless, needless but still blueprints for millions of girls who would literally give the shirt off their backs to catch themselves a rockstar, a famous actor, a hyped football player or just a rich heir.
"This is Mayfield's fiancee," Kyle said, pointing at the photo, "you're gonna be her personal bodyguard."
"How am I supposed to monitor him, when I have to be on her heels all the time?"
"You're gonna live with them, there will be lots of opportunities. Just make her trust you, we need her to open up, get her to talk. They've been together for years, she should know what he's involved in," Chris explained and she made it sound easy when in fact it wasn't only hard to gain a stranger's trust, in this case it was even dangerous.
"Alright. Tell me about her."
"Her name is Lucretia Johnson, 24 years old," Kyle started reading the memo.
"Lucretia?" August let out an amused snort.
"Yeah," Kyle grinned, "her mother seems to have a preference for strange names, her younger sister's called Petronilla."
"What the fuck?" August laughed out loud. "Is she some kind of Latin professor or something?"
"Well, first of all she's dead," Christine took over with a serious look on her face, she was notorious for her lack of humour, "and secondly, no, she was not a professor. She was an alcoholic and a complete mess. An irresponsible, uncaring mother who spent too much time fucking around and too little time taking care of her daughters. Petronilla was taken away from her when she was 15 and was handed over to youth welfare. Lucretia was 18 at the time and lived on the campus of the Chelsea College of Art and Design."
"So she's an artist, huh?" August knew the ridicule in his voice wasn't very professional but he just couldn't help it.
"Maybe, at least she has a master degree in curating and owns a little gallery in Covent Garden. Well, actually Mayfield owns it, she just runs it."
"So, to sum it up, she's made it from the daughter of a drunkard to the fiancee of one of the richest heirs in the kingdom. She's fucked her way to the top. I guess that's all I need to know about her."
"Don't be so sure, August. She seems to be smart," Kyle threw in, "I think there's more to her than the pretty face. It's just a gut feeling but I guess you'll find out soon enough."
August took a deep breath, rolling his eyes at Kyle. "Sure. She's the saint that sleeps with the devil."
"That's not what I said, mate. But whatever she is, you'll have to deal with it."
"What's my cover, Christine?" August wanted to know.
"Well, your alias was born in 1981, just like you, but on the fifth of May. Born and raised in Portland, Maine. Only child, mother deceased, not on speaking terms with his father, a mechanic who still lives in Portland. You can find the details of your early life and your family tree in the memo," she waved the file above her head before she continued. "Careerwise...ex military, ex cop, had some problems following the rules and respecting the law. Single, no ex-wifes, no kids. We kept it plain and simple. They will not dig deep anyway. According to the agency boss, Mayfield expects his bodyguards to be disciplined, always on duty, quiet and discreet. There's three of you. Benjamin Garner is Mayfield's watchdog and his personal assistant, Edward Landow was Johnson's guard you're gonna replace, Andrew Brown is the back-up. You and Garner live with them, Brown lives nearby with his girlfriend. There's other staff of course, a housekeeper, a cook, cleaners. No chauffeur, no butler, no assistant, that's all part of your job."
"Great," August let out an annoyed snort, "so basically I'm gonna be her servant."
"Basically," Chris fixed her gaze on August, "you're not gonna leave her side unless you're told to. Just be professional, stay in the background, prick up your ears, listen closely and be careful. No obvious nosing around. Their penthouse is a high tech fortress, including video monitoring, so just…"
"I know how to work undercover," August cut in impatiently, "just gimme that fucking file and let me do my job."
Christine gave him a pissed look but she handed him the document with a shrug and without further comment. August grabbed it from her hands, staring at the data of his new life, his new name and the composite sketch of his new look. He would have to stop shaving.
*****
tbc
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nickjunesource · 3 years
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Full article below.
Max Minghella is sitting in his backyard in the LA sunshine, his t-shirt an homage to the French filmmaker Mia Hansen-Løve, his adopted shepherd mix, Rhye, excited by the approach of a package courier.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks — the dog, not me — tenderly.
Minghella, who at 35 has dozens of screen credits to his name, is best known as The Handmaid’s Tale’s cunning chauffeur Nick Blaine, a character who it’s difficult to imagine saying sweetheart. In airless Gilead, of course, a cautious hand graze with Elisabeth Moss’ June can pass for a big romantic gesture. In a Season 1 episode featuring child separation and hospital infant abduction, Nick’s major contribution is to trade stolen glances with a sex slave while “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” pumps discordantly along. I ask Minghella about playing the series’ closest approximation to a dreamy male lead against the show’s dark narrative of female subjugation.
“I know this is not the answer you want to hear,” Minghella says with none of Nick’s hesitation. “But I like that stuff, right? In the pilot, I think Nick only had a handful of lines. It wasn't clear that this is what the character would turn into. And it's quite fortunate for me personally, because I'm not a massively sort of intellectual person in my real life. I love Fifty Shades of Grey. That's like my Star Wars. It suits me to play a character like him.”
Minghella surmises that this enduring romanticism is an outcome of nurture. His father, the late British director Anthony Minghella, made grand romantic dramas like Cold Mountain and The English Patient. And there was the young, cinema-mad Max sitting on the living room sofa, absorbing everything. “It’s taken me a long time to understand this,” he says of his prolonged childhood exposure to love stories. “My dad made The English Patient when I was 10. So it was two years of watching the dailies to that movie and then watching 50 cuts of it. And then [The Talented Mr.] Ripley he made when I was 13, and it was the same thing.” These were an adolescent Max Minghella’s alternative to reruns. “I think they did shape my perspective on the world in a lot of ways, specifically The English Patient. That was a complicated love story, and I wonder sometimes how much it's affected my psychology.”
Some sons rebel; others resemble. Minghella’s co-star O-T Fagbenle, who plays June’s other lover from before the time of Gilead, got his first job acting in Anthony Minghella’s romantic crime film Breaking and Entering. “Anthony is one the kindest, most beautiful men that I've ever had the privilege of working with before,” Fagbenle says. “And Max has his gorgeous, sensitive, open-minded soul.”
Though Minghella spent his childhood on the set of The Talented Mr. Ripley, playing an uncredited Confederate soldier role in Cold Mountain, and tooling around with a Super-8 camera Matt Damon gave him, he insists his upbringing was normal. He grew up in South Hill Park overlooking Hampstead Heath in London with his father and mother, the choreographer Carolyn Choa. (Minghella also has a half-sister, Hannah Minghella, who is now a film executive.) Yes, technically, it was London, but that’s not how it seemed. “I feel like I grew up in a very small town. Every school I went to was in Hampstead. I was born in Hampstead,” Minghella says of the small map dot of his life before university. “When I went to New York, I felt I was going to the big city.”
Despite his illustrious surname, movie-watching was far from restricted to the classics. “Beverly Hills Cop is definitely the movie I remember having an unhealthy obsession with. I think I saw it when I was 5 for the first time, and I'd watch it just two or three times a day for years. I'm just obsessed with it.”
Plenty of actors can trace their love of movies back to a love of stories, but for Minghella the relationship seems to flow in reverse. When he left for Columbia University, Minghella opted to study history for its connection, through storytelling, to film. It was during the summers between his years of college that he started taking acting more seriously. Before his graduation, he’d already appeared in Syriana, starring Damon and George Clooney. Soon, he’d make a splash as Divya Narendra in The Social Network in 2010 and be cast in Clooney’s Ides of March. As all young actors eventually must, Minghella moved to Los Angeles.
It’s been over a decade since he last lived on the Heath, but, perhaps unusually for a person who’s chosen his profession, Minghella is adamantly not a “shapeshifter,” in his words. Home for Christmas this year, he started sifting through old journals stored at his mother’s house, “just like scraps of writing from when I was extremely young up through my teenage years,” before coming to America. “It was hilarious to me,” Minghella says of staring at his childhood reflection. “My review of a movie at 7 years old is pretty much what my review of a movie at 35 will be. My taste hasn't changed much. And when I sort of love something, I do tend to continue to love it.”
Which brings us back to his enduring love of romance, born of his bloodline, which is all over Minghella’s own 2018 directorial debut. Teen Spirit is a hazily lit film about a teenage girl from the Isle of Wight — the remote British island where Max’s father Anthony was born — who enters a local X-Factor-style singing competition. (It stars Minghella’s rumored girlfriend of several years, Elle Fanning.) The story is small, but its crescendos are epic.
Minghella calls the movie — an ode to the power of the pop anthem — “embarrassingly Max.” Max loves a good music-driven movie trailer — he’s watched the one for Top Gun: Maverick “many” times. And Max loves the rhythmic beats of sports movies like Friday Night Lights. Max loves movies with excesses of female energy, like Spring Breakers. He likens Teen Spirit to an experiment, his answer to the question, “Can I take all these things that I love and find a structure that can hold them?” The result is a touching “hodgepodge” of Minghella’s fascinations, inspired by the songs from another thing he loves: Robyn’s 2010 album Body Talk (itself a dance-pop meditation on love).
Minghella hasn’t directed any films since, but he sees now how making movies fits his personality — organized, impatient — more organically than starring in them does. Directing also helped him to appreciate that acting is “much harder than I was giving it credit for,” which, in turn, has made him like it more. Besides The Handmaid’s Tale currently airing on Hulu, Minghella appears in Spiral, the ninth installment in the Saw horror franchise and, from where I’m sitting, at least, a departure.
“I do like horror movies, but the thing that was really kind of magical is that I was feeling so nostalgic, right? We talked about Beverly Hills Cop earlier. I was just missing a certain kind of movie,” Minghella explains of his new role as Chris Rock’s detective partner. He was yearning for simple story-telling, like in the buddy cop movies of his youth, especially 48 Hours. It almost goes without saying that a buddy cop movie is another kind of love story. “And then I read the script and it was very much in that vein.” He clarifies: “I mean, it's also extremely Saw. It's very much a horror movie.”
His renewed excitement for acting translated onto The Handmaid’s Tale set, too. Veteran Hollywood producer Warren Littlefield describes casting Minghella in the role of Nick as an effortless choice: “Sometimes you agonize over things. [Casting Minghella] was instantly clear to me, and everyone agreed.” Now in its fourth season, the tone of the Hulu hit is graver than ever. Gilead is more desperate to maintain its rule, and so more audacious in its violence. Perhaps it’s fitting that the show’s romantic gestures finally match that scale.
In one particularly soaring moment, Elisabeth Moss’ June and Minghella’s Nick meet at the center of a bridge and crush into a long kiss. It’s been two seasons since they held their newborn daughter together, and it’s hard to see how this isn’t their last goodbye. Littlefield, like Minghella, is here for the romance among the rubble. “It's spectacular when they come together. In the middle of all of the trauma is this epic love story,” he says. “Max is just magnificent in the role.”
For Minghella, the satisfaction is more personal. He works with good people, he likes his scenes, and he thinks Nick is a complex character. Minghella read The Handmaid’s Tale for the first time in college in 2005. Like all the things Minghella has ever liked, he still likes it. He’s as proud of this most recent season as he is the show’s first. And he watched Nick and June race recklessly back to each other across the expanse of the screen exactly how you might expect. “I watched it like a fan girl.”
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zet-sway · 3 years
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OC GAME THING
heY THANKS A BUNCH FOR TAGGING ME I had a lot of fun with this
I was tagged by like at least three people @spookyvalentine @rosenkow and @yennas THANK YOU ALL OF YOU THANK YOU
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December Shepard
Look ya'll I suck at modding so her hair just isn't what I envision and that's okay lmao
General-
Name: December Shepard
Alias(es): Jack calls her Big D. Otherwise she goes by Shepard or Dess (and eventually Siha c:)
Gender: Cisgender woman with tomboy / androgynous gender expression
Age: 32 by the end of the war. Shepard and the alliance agreed to count the two years she was dead in her age, simply to avoid the confusion of having to explain "i was dead for two years" to every person who contested her age being two years short of her birth year.
Birthdate: April 11, 2154
Place of birth: United States Civilian Station Hadid USCS-HDD-3963
Hometown: Lived on the CS Hadid for a while but ultimately got jostled around with her military parents.
Spoken language(s): Galactic standard / English
Sexual preference: Demi-pansexual/bisexual
Occupation: Joined the Alliance at 18, became a fighter mechanic, then whoops she did something important and she's been selected for ITC and now she's a Spectre. (I'm still figuring out how this happened lmao)
Appearance-
Eye color: Greeeeen
Hair color: Red
Height: 5'-7"
Scars: Long scar on her left forearm from a door that had a sharp edge. Post-war she's all fucked up from the crucible including a line across her scalp that just won't grow back.
Favorite-
Color: Red and green
Hair Scale color: green
Song: I don't know what kind of music they're listening to in 2180whatever but here's a playlist I made for her. (Spoiler alert it's all 90's music because I think she'd listen to nostalgic shit)
Food: Coffee (Yes it's food and she will fight you)
Drink: Coffee coffee coffee coffee
Have They-
Passed university: Graduated N school so uhhh
Had sex: Prior to Thane had a handful of flings.
Had sex in public: In the alliance, privacy is hard to come by lol
Gotten pregnant: Nope.
Kissed a boy: Ya
Kissed a girl: First kiss was a girl
Gotten tattoos: No but would like to
Gotten piercings: yeah you should have seen her mom's face when she came home to find her daughter had a lip ring at 16. She doesn't wear it anymore since joining the alliance.
Been in love: Oohhoohoooo Sere Krios
Stayed up for more than 24 hours: *laughs in N7*
Are They-
A virgin: Virginity, as we know, is a construct designed to put women in arbitrary categories of "purity" or whatever. Also this question was asked already lol
A cuddler: Yes but also bored easily so doesn't like to cuddle for very long unless it's bedtime or unless there's some kind of movie or conversation happening.
A kisser: yeah and she's had more than a few makeout sessions with various people throughout her life. Kissing is fine - it's moving past the kiss that's hard for her.
Scared easily: No fear / one fear meme about losing Thane or suffocating in space again
Jealous easily: She experiences jealousy and then manages it like an adult.
Dominant: Maybe sorta kinda has a thing for people calling her "Commander" in bed - but she won't fucking admit it.
Submissive: In the bedroom: not with anyone but Thane - but that's more of an exploratory thing than something they do all the time. Submission is an act of trust for her. Outside the bedroom: she didn't get promoted for her ability to submit lol
In love: Yes ( ◜‿◝ )♡
Single: Nope
Random Questions (tw for self harm/suicide mention)-
Have they harmed themselves: Not intentionally.
Thought of suicide: Thought about it, after being resurrected by Cerberus.
Attempted suicide: No
Wanted to kill someone: She wanted to kill Dr. Gavin Archer lmao
Have / had a job: Former mechanic aboard the SSV Hawking.
Have any fears: The reapers winning. Becoming a reaper husk. Getting spaced again. Losing Thane. Mom finding out she's in bed with a lizard man.
Family-
Sibling(s): None to speak of
Parent(s): Hannah Shepard, with whom she has a rocky but not horrible relationship. Dad passed away before she joined the Military and it was a whole thing and she doesn't want to talk about it.
Children: No. And she won't call Kolyat her stepson, but she does treat him like family.
Significant other: Eventually marries Thane, some years after the war.
Pet(s): Cats. Post-retirement she has chickens.
I'm tagging @commander-krios @saecookie @shut-up-alexa @quietonewisp @battlemastershepard @golickadrell yahhh uhhhhh I'm so bad at tags IF YOU WANT TO DO THIS PLEASE FEEL FREE :D no pressure
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skyeofloxlay · 3 years
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Duskwood - thoughts, observations and summaries - Part 1.
It is likely that there are already people who did this, but I would like to point out some things that I ended up putting aside as the episodes went on, but that I realized when I was reading the prints I took or even when I was playing for hundredth time. Unfortunately I'm not going to put the prints here as they are not in English, so it doesn't help much. And maybe, most of the things I write are obvious, or that everyone already knows, but I would like to write something to have some of my thoughts on some. (or just to have a summary for when chapter 8 comes and I get lost)
(again sorry if it have English errors or something is confusing, English is not my first language @_@)
WARNING: This post will talk about Duskwood events, so you better play before you read! Also, this post is really big, so you might end up getting bored. YOU'VE BEEN ADVISED
1 - Thomas received our number on the second day of Hannah's disappearance, where he himself said he received the night. He immediately spoke to all his friends about the number and then they were arguing for a long time, until finally after thinking hard, the next day, Thomas decides to contact the MC (And of course, there is the fact that the message is gone.)
2 - Thomas tells us that he tried to call Hannah when he received the MC number, someone answered the call, but nobody said anything.
3 - Thomas has a brother, and that is something I always forget. I suppose he is a younger brother? Maybe someone who's not old enough to drive or idk.
4 - Richy tries to fit in with the MC, which is apparently an unusual behavior, since Cleo was incredulous at what he was doing.
5 - Jake acted very cold the first time we talked to him. But I don't remember exactly when it changed ... I think I should see it on the prints and mention it later.
6 - Jake probably follows the philosophy "The ends justify the means", since he does anything, no matter the consequence, as long as he gets to where he wants to go. (In fact, he literally says that the ends justify the means xD)
7 - We have to hack Hannah's cloud because Jake can't do everything, and he says he's busy following other clues, but what are those? I don't remember him commenting on what clues he's following, well maybe I'll find out by looking at the prints of future chapters.
8 - Jake says that we should decrypt the cloud, and clearly decrypting is not a candy crush game with cubes, but I would say that in "real life" (as much as I have researched about decryption, I didn’t find anything that could help me a lot to understand how it works) you use some program that Jake sent you, you take encrypted files that have several strange letters and put them in this program, which happens to be a little slow, so to pass the time you decide to play Candy Crush. Which is why it takes so long before you can send an unencrypted file to Jake.
9 - Cleo adds us before going to work.
10 - Thomas comes back some time later, I would say it could be half an hour after he sent the message saying he had to get his brother.
11 - On the day of Hannah's disappearance, Jake put all of her friends in a group and talked about the situation. By the time Jake did that, Thomas was on his cell phone, so he saw it right away. 
12 - We know that Jake somehow witnessed the kidnapping, but how? How did he see if he didn't even meet Hannah in person?
13 - Richy's house is 5 minutes from Hannah's.
14 - Cleo and Richy have a conversation that we can read. And Cleo asked Richy where all the sympathy had come from (probably about him wanting to put the MC in the group) Apparently before he didn't want Thomas to contact the number.
15 - Richy assumes that Hannah has had enough time to write a single message. If we put him as one of the suspects, as he is being at the moment, then was it he who gave Hannah the chance to send a message? Or was it Richy who sent it from Hannah's cell phone? But…. I don't know ... none of those things really make sense.
Unless Hannah managed to get her cell phone while Richy was away, and then sent the message, Richy soon afterwards arrives and sees what Hannah has done, takes her cell phone and deletes the message. (And answer the phone, but say nothing) 
(Or we can also assume that it was Jake who sent our number on Hannah's cell phone ... but that doesn't fit much for some things in the future, I'll explain later)
16 - Richy thinks that inevitably, if the MC is guilty it will end up escaping something.
17 - We were able to decrypt the first photo, that if I'm right, we are decrypting newer photos to older ones? But that is not a very important detail, I think. We sent the photo to Jake and he asks if we had found this photo in Hannah's cloud. But why? Isn't it obvious that it was from Hannah's cloud? Wasn't that just our only job? Decrypt and send whatever you can to Jake ??? If we say we don't know what exactly to look for, Jake says he doesn't know either. So we're kind of literally in the dark! We have no idea what we have to find and neither does he know. But he says that it is still for us to continue to send what we find, because something can be more relevant if we look in more detail.
(Okay, the next one isn't so much what I thought, but the conversation between Jake and MC, because I love the interactions that it is possible to do with Jake and I couldn't leave it out. * ^ _ ^ *)
18 - Jake wishes us good luck, but now (I think only for premium) you can say you want to talk to him. Jake then looks confused and asks what we wanted to talk about, and we can say we want to talk about him. He seems to be even more confused about why we want to talk about him. I don't remember the other options or if he says the same thing it doesn't matter what we answer, but if we say that we find him interesting he says that "You know I'm not going to tell you anything about me, right?" (Sure, of course Jake, for sure everyone believes that) if we keep insisting, he ends up giving in and says that we can ask only one question. We can ask: I think between his hair color, if he lives in the city or country, or what programs does he use to hack?
His hair color is black, if I'm not mistaken he says he lives in the city and the last question I don't know the answer to.
He asks why we wanted to know (in the case of hair, I don't know about the others, but he probably asks the same thing). I think that regardless of what we answer, he says he doesn't believe in what he just did, because he shouldn't say anything about himself. (That is, this is where we can start to make Jake's walls start to fall and we can get closer to him :) ) He also says that hiding his identity is essential and asks if we are happy now. If we say yes and talk to ask a question, he gets more confused and says "You didn't want to talk to me, did you?" Regardless of what we talk about, he asks us how the weather is. We can say between: What a boring question / It's raining / Very well, I would say. (I think those were the questions). 
He then admits that it was not the most interesting topic, but we can say that it remains interesting nonetheless. He so says he hasn't had a conversation in a long time... (oh, I feel you Jake, I don't know how to talk to people either, but look, you're talking to me :) even though you don't really exist ;_;) He then asks if we were stuck on an island, what would we most like to have. I said that I would like to have books, and he says "hmm" (but if I'm not mistaken he says that for everything we answer) we can ask him what he would like to have, and he says he would choose his computer, but then he tells us to forget what he said and says he has more to do, and asks if everything was clear now.
19 - We can ask him if he doesn't ask himself who we are. And this point I find interesting. He says "You play a key role in all this mess. Why do you suddenly appear in such mysterious circumstances? What do you really have to do with all of this? Obviously, I wonder who you are. I already told you something about me again ... I'm going to have to go now. Otherwise, I will end up saying my name or worse. " This means that he would not have been the one who sent our number by Hannah's cell phone because he doesn't know who the MC is. There is less that he is lying very well, but I think not.
20 - Thomas asks if we have time to talk to him, and then says that in a way MC is one of them now. So he says he will put pictures of Hannah on his profile so that we can try to remember her in some way. 
21 - Did we find a picture of a bridge? That's probably in the forest?
22 - Jessy then contacts us saying that she wants to get to know us better? Is it just me who found this strange and uncomfortable?
23 - Even though she never spoke to us and left the group, she says that MC is part of the group now. And she decides to talk to us in the middle of her work.
24 - We found out that Jessy works with Richy.
25 - She keeps trying to get to know MC more, which made me very uncomfortable because I really didn't want to talk to her and even then she kept talking to MC.
26 - So we got to see one more conversation, but this time it's between Thomas and Cleo, where Thomas says that he put some pictures for the MC to see, and said that it seemed strange, and said that there was nothing strange about the MC's behavior. So Cleo tells Thomas that then he cannot draw a conclusion about what role we (MC) play. Thomas then said goodbye and they went offline.
27 - Jessy talks to the MC again, nothing interesting that is worth mentioning.
28 - We found a photo of a cat in Hannah's cloud 
29 - Thomas sends a message again, now asking if we recognize Hannah, replying that we really don't know her, he says "oh, yeah, it's okay" and goes offline. 
30 - Jake answers us and we start talking about our findings. He says he will try to extract information from the photos.
31 - He asks for time to be able to analyze it and says he has an advantage for us, and sends a cell phone number. He says the police are very focused on Thomas and that we should be focusing on someone else. If we ask why we should do this, he replies, "As I said before, you piqued my interest. That's all you need to know at the moment." Then he tells us to add the number. And as soon as we added it, we found out the number was from Dan.
32 - Dan gets worried and says several no, and asks who sent us after him. You can choose from a few people to say who sent you there, but I think regardless of who you choose, he will say the same: "What? Fuck it. I don't care. Damn them. And you leave me alone." And then it goes offline.
33 - If you choose Jessy, he will ask her why she gave his number to the MC, and she says that she didn't, so he says that the MC is lying and that someone gave his number. Jessy also says that if he wants people to stop seeing him as a suspect, he just has to stop acting like one.
34 - We got a call. Someone threatening us.
35 - We contacted Jake and talked about what happened. Jake asks what the kidnapper said, and we can say "That I should stay out of other people's business." Jake asks what he looked like, and we can say he looked like a maniac.
36 - If we say that we had better follow the kidnapper's advice, Jake says that we shouldn't do that, and that there was nothing to worry about. And that we could consider that connection as something positive, because that meant the kidnapper was coming out of hiding, and that would make him vulnerable. And that he is probably concerned about the MC being in the investigation. Jake also says that we are a drag on the kidnapper, and that the MC can't trust anyone in the group. He also said that he was right about the MC and that we are going to save Hannah. 
37 - Jessy calls us and other people in the group saying they found a body. She creates a group and adds us, Dan, Cleo and Richy.
38 - Jessy and Cleo argue.
39 - Cleo says she will tell Lilly about the body.
40 - And then in a way we kind of obliged to tell Thomas about the body.
41 - When we talk about the body found, Thomas immediately goes offline.
42 - We tell the group this.
43 - If we tell the group that we should have waited to tell Thomas, Richy says that MC would not say that if knew how much gossip is spreading around the city.
44 - Dan asks us what we think about Thomas's suspicious actions.
45 - Richy asks what we do now and Cleo replies that the only way was to wait. 
46 - Everyone goes offline and after a while Jake sends a message saying that he has something new, that a corpse had been found. But he was talking about the same corpse that we discovered by the group, that is, we had important information even before him.
47 - He is impressed with how we got the information before him and how MC already seems to be part of the group.
48 - Then he asks if we got the picture of the cat in Hannah's cloud. (again, isn't that obvious??? This is our mission! Decrypt Hannah's cloud photos and files !!! Why do you keep asking that Jake ??) 
49 - If we ask if there is something wrong to Jake, he just replies "Never mind. It's okay." And then it goes offline.
50 - We decrypt what appears to be a medical prescription, but which is in a terrible resolution. Jake says he will try to fix the image better and goes offline.
51 - Jessy says that Cleo invaded the junkyard
52 - Jessy says that the MC should make Cleo tell Richy what she did.
53 - Cleo says he needs to talk to us. She says she can tell us a little bit about Hannah.
54 - If we ask if Hannah has siblings, Cleo replies that Lilly is her younger sister, and asks if we didn't know that until now. If we say, "I meant besides Lilly". Cleo replies that Lilly is Hannah's only sibling.
55 - If we ask Cleo if it was possible that Hannah simply ran away, Cleo replies that there was no reason for her to do that since Hannah's life was starting to go well. She had a great family, an amazing boyfriend and was happy with her career.
56 - If we say that maybe things were happening that she didn't know, Cleo replies that she knows that everyone has secrets, but having such a terrible secret and having to escape Duskwood without a trace, she would know that. She also comments on the fact that the Hacker saw the hijacking.
57 - If we ask Cleo if she thinks the kidnapper could be someone in the group, she says she doesn't believe it is anyone of them.
58 - When asked if Hannah had any enemies, Cleo replies that she was not sure, and that everyone loved Hannah.
59 - At that moment we can question Cleo or not for the invasion of the junkyard. If we don't say anything, she just says that she has to do some things and that she can't sit and wait.
60 - If we ask her plan, she says she'll ask for downtown and maybe know if someone found Hannah before she disappeared. She spoke the names of three of the biggest gossips in the city: Mrs. Walter, owner of the hotel. Mrs. Sully, the queen of gossip and Phil Hawkins, owner of Aurora bar.
61 - She says the bar hasn't opened yet, but we can suggest to Cleo who she should talk to first. And then she says she'll talk to us later.
62 - We found a picture of Hannah apparently in the forest.
63 - We see a conversation between Richy and Jessy. 
64 - Richy is talking about something Jessy said to us. He says that Jessy should be more careful with the MC and then says that Jessy should know something about the MC, but then he needs to stop by the office and not talk about what it was.
65 - Jake, who was reading the messages between Richy and Jessy, is annoyed that Richy didn't say what he wanted to say.
66 - We asked him if he was reading the messages, and he says yes, because you never know where you can find the next piece of the puzzle. If we ask him if he always reads other people's messages, he replies that only the most interesting ones and asks us if the MC was judging him.
67 - If we say that we are judging him a little, he says that the MC was also reading their messages. We can answer that we are doing this because he told us to do this. So he says we're only doing this so that we can find Hannah.
68 - Jake asks ask us what we think Richy and Jessy are talking about us. If we say we have no idea, Jake responds with "Really? Not even a hunch?" so we can say that we’ve never talked to Richy before, and Jake thinks that’s strange. Jake assumes that Richy would tell Jessy why he doesn't trust MC. We can then answer "Don't trust anyone. It's your words, not mine." and "Do you trust me?", Jake answers the question with "Would I have given you access to Hannah's cloud if I didn't?" We can then tell Jake that he doesn't even know us that well, and he says "Maybe Jessy wasn't the only person who felt an immediate connection with you"
If we ask "Is that a compliment?" Jake says yes, and he would talk to us later.
69 - Cleo sends a message saying that she arrived at the hotel, but that Mrs. Walter was not at the reception. Cleo then says that Lilly used to work at the Hotel reception before, but apparently she doesn't work there anymore. Cleo then comments that Alfie, Mrs. Walter's son, is playing in a mud puddle in front of the hotel. We told Cleo that she should talk to Alfie, and after a while she comes back saying that he had called her "Friend of the dead girl" and then Cleo replies that Hannah was not yet dead and asked him who was saying these terrible things. Alfie then says that he saw Hannah being taken by the Man without a face.
If we say that he probably saw a man in a mask, Cleo replies that there is a legend in Duskwood about a "Man without a face" and that we should ask Jessy about it because she likes legends, and then in the meantime Cleo would talk to Mrs. Sully. 
70 - We asked Jessy about the legend of the mwaf, and also commented that Alfie had seen Hannah being taken by him to the forest.
71 - We found out that Jessy was once Alfie's Nanny. And she says that he may well have invented it, since he has mental problems.
72 - Jessy creates a group about the Duskwood legends and puts Richy together, since he was born in Duskwood and could talk more about the legend than she did. But since Richy was working, they had to leave that for later.
73 - Cleo sends us a message saying she talked to Mrs. Sully, who says she saw Hannah coming out of the pharmacy and that she looked very worried, and then she sat on the patio of the Rainbow Café.
74 - We asked Cleo what Hannah had bought at the pharmacy, but she doesn't know. So she says that she will try to do something and that in the meantime we should try to find out more about the "mwaf".
75 - We talked to Richy and Jessy about Alfie and the mwaf. 
76 - Jessy tells the legend of the mwaf. She says the legend is older than Duskwood, they say he lives inside the forest and at night he walks through the dark streets of the city. He marks the door of the greatest sins with a sign from the crow, and then on the night of the first new moon each year, he returns the marked houses and takes all the people from that house, whether guilty or not. No one knows exactly what he does with these people, but supposedly he takes them into the forest and these people never come back.
77 - We can then assume that the kidnapper is trying to copy the legend. 
78 - Cleo sends us a message again, telling us a story that Lilly told her about Alfie.
79 - Cleo said it happened last year, in the fall. One of the guests complained to Lilly about a bad smell in his room, Lilly went to the room, but felt nothing, so she gave the guest another room. When she returned to the room she noticed the smell, but could not find where it came from, she then spoke to Mrs. Walter who spoke with the janitor Old Gray. After he cleaned it, Lilly, as she was curious to know what had given off that stench, goes to the trash and saw that Alfie's canary (Mr. Featherly) was dead and with a crushed beak and broken wings.
80 - Apparently Alfie killed the canary.
81 - We then see a conversation between Dan and Lilly. He was commenting that he was sure that the body found was not Hannah's. Lilly then asks Dan if he could come here (probably to her house), and Dan agrees.
Well, I think I better stop here, because I already wrote a lot and there is still a lot to write. To tell you the truth, I don't even know where I am in the story, I don't know if it's still chapter 1, or it's already 2 or maybe 3. But anyway, that's it. I will continue to write my observations / thoughts / summaries of the story when I have time and motivation. At the moment I want to see if I can draw something with Jake x MC and maybe write some theories that are in my head.
I hope that what I have written can help you in some way, or just remember what was going on at the beginning of the game. (Or maybe all of this is useless and it was really boring, so I'm sorry ;_;) See you later :)
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puddle--wonderful · 4 years
Text
Unsolicited etymology lesson: Cripple Edition
AKA, why I like reclaiming the word “cripple.”
Language is important! But to be frank, as a disabled person I’m very, VERY tired of woke-tivist lessons on how to talk about disability that do no etymological work.
Now, the only real language is a used language. Did “r*tard” as a socially-laden word originate as a way to speak medically/objectively about hindered mental capacity? Sure. Did it previously only mean to stop or slow progress? Yes. Has it experienced hardcore pejoration wherein most everyone uses it with malice or offense? Yes. Has it thus lost its supposed neutrality? You betcha. Did it ever really have neutrality since the medical model itself is riddled with oppressive power structures? That’s its own can of worms! So I’m not saying the history of a word supersedes is contemporary use. The most important effect is whatever it has on actual flesh-and-blood disabled people.
But sometimes a history lesson can reinvigorate a word. So here’s a list of words that I--as a physically disabled person in a wheelchair--could be called, in reverse chronological order. And I’m gonna tell you how I feel about each one.
differently-abled (1980): HATE IT! Hate it a whole bunch. I get the impetus here, but I loathe the result and the culture that has sprung up around it. Everyone’s differently-abled, but we’re not in a cultural moment yet where people are gonna understand that this means disability is a socially-constructed category. Maybe one day! But not yet! So the result is right in the realm of inspiration porn. Plus, it kinda invalidates the totally real experience I’ve had of living with a disability. So maybe Karen can’t run a fucking marathon--that’s differently-abled. I can’t stand up. We are not in the same “differently-abled” category.
handicap (1789): not my favorite, but it doesn’t strike a visceral reaction in me. My problem with it is largely semantic. Before being applied to people that we now think of as disabled, it was a way to talk about hindering a thing so as to even the playing field--golfing is one arena where that connotation is still alive and well. Before THAT, it was originally the name of a 17th century game--hand-in-the-cap--which from everything I can tell, was kind of like The Price is Right. No joke. The crux here is VALUE. It’s always associated with VALUE. To have a handicap or to be handicapped means devaluation. I don’t love that.
invalid (1642): YO, unless you just time/dimension-travelled straight out of a Dickens novel and haven’t had time to update your vocabulary, get that shit straight out of your mouth. How much more insulting can you get than to call a person in-valid? For the record, “valid” comes from the Latin “validus” meaning strong or powerful. I guess I wouldn’t be absolutely revolted if someone was trying to describe my disability and was like, “well, she’s non-strong.” I mean...fair? But we use valid a little differently now, so jesus fucking christ.
disabled (1598): now we’re talking. This is good! I’m totally good with this! I’ve heard arguments that people don’t like the negative prefix of “dis,” but I’m okay with it. I think there’s actually a lot of nuance to this word. It’s “dis-abled” not “un-abled.” Like, humans aren’t “disabled” when it comes to flying. We’re “unabled.” “Dis-abled” acknowledges that there’s a non-normativity, not a total incapacity. There was something that this body was, in theory, designed to do, but it doesn’t have that ability. Whoops. As a result, it holds within it all the potential conversations about the socially constructed nature of disability and normativity. You just gotta pry it open a little.
cripple (950): MY PERSONAL FAVORITE. But I get it, people don’t like using it. I’m not gonna request that people use it. A lot of disabled people would be personally offended, so I don’t recommend wielding it without permission and care. But I love this word. It’s OLD. It predates the Norman invasion (may even be a holdover of a Scottish dialect!), so it’s not been distorted by Latin or French. And it just comes from the verb “to creep.” ‘Cause that’s what people who couldn’t walk often did. They crawled around on the ground. I like a word that relates directly to the experience. That’d be like calling me a wheelie. Right on, I AM a wheelie, why not? “Oh, that’s Hannah, yeah, she’s a sitter.” HELL YEAH I AM. I also just happen to love that one of the earliest recorded uses of the word was in Chaucer’s Troilus and Criseyde when he basically says, “it’s foolhardy to try sneaking up on a cripple because he knows the craft.” The craft of being sneaky. I don’t know, maybe I played rogue too many times in RPGs, but I dig that. But not everyone who’s disabled wants to be regarded this way, so...again, best leave “cripple” to the disabled community, unless and until you’ve got a personal friend who explicitly doesn’t mind it.
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All dates and definitions can be confirmed via the Oxford English Dictionary. All opinions are my own and not representative of the entire disabled community. If your first language is something other than English and it contains words/terms for disabled people that are different from these, I’d love to hear about them!
*note in advance*: do not compare these to racist or homophobic slurs. Intersectionality is important, competing over who’s been more oppressed is not. So if I see some nonsense in the notes where people are like, “this is even worse than this word” I’m gonna have beef.
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wouldduskwood · 3 years
Text
Jake's POV Descendants of Despair Part 28
I was still staring at the computer screen in mild frustration when she appeared behind me. “Yeah, not feeling the phone thing when you’re just through here.” she mumbled. I turned and smiled at her in relief, capturing her in my arms. “I agree, having you here is far more pleasing.” I murmured softly.
“Okay, here’s the situation, I’m wired as fuck right now. Biting my tongue doesn’t always come easily. Also, I can’t remember the last time I ate and we have yet to find clear escape routes. I think we need to remedy some of this stuff, before I go completely nuts.” she sighed.
I nodded solemnly. “I get it, I’m finding it hard to concentrate on this and making stupid mistakes. We need to sort the food situation out pronto."
“I can go into Duskwood and pick something up?” she suggested. “No deal, we go together or not at all.” I responded with finality. Like there was any way I'd let her go there unattended. I'd do anything in my power to stop that. “Okay, but you stay in the car where cameras can’t pick you up and I get in and out. Deal?” I nodded again. “Okay, but we order online from some place near here but not Duskwood. You go in and pick up, that’s it. We can’t get much, I don’t have a lot of money.” I sighed. I wanted to be able to help her, provide anything I could for her. She had left home with pretty much nothing and I was embarrassed at my lack of resources for her.
“Yeah, money isn’t much of an issue.” she shrugged. “We order what we need and I pay for it in cash.” I looked at her, cocking my head to the side in confusion mixed with skepticism.
She sighed, “ I don’t trust banks with that much information about me...oh surprised?” she grinned, seeing my eyes widen briefly. “Very little of my money is used through banks...only what I want people to find actually. I withdraw a fair bit of money whenever I can. I purposefully use machines close to casinos to give the illusion of a gambling problem, but in actuality I keep the money in various envelopes with different quantities. A few days before I had to take off, I had gathered it all into my backpack. I kind of suspected I'd need to leave sooner rather than later. I guess this is a habit I picked up on the street. Hidden cash in various portions. If someone robs you on the street, they usually stop when they find something. If you spread it out in various places, they won’t find it all. Anyway, I guess I feel comforted having cash. It will also be helpful now, right?” she prodded me.
“Wow, you really are perfect aren’t you?” I grinned. “I have been busy racking my brain with how I will raise enough money to keep you alive and here you are sitting on money that will save us.” She smiled. “I think it will be plenty to keep us going for however long we need. There is a little less than $200,000.” I wasn't sure whether I had heard that correctly, so I stepped backwards in shock as I tried to process what she had said. Since she had started camping on the roof of the warehouse, I'd come up with endless schemes to find more money, but had so far failed miserably. She really could take care of herself.
“That much?” I croaked.
“Yeah, I spent a bit after I left the last place I was staying, on clothes and shit, but there should be enough here for as long as we need.”
“Uh, not to sound ungrateful or anything, but is it all...legally obtained?” I questioned. “It’s just...they can trace the serial numbers…”
She smiled and paused before responding. I looked at her questioningly. “Okay, yeah it is all legal. See, I told you I became qualified in teaching and technology. Well...I kind of found a little bit of a loophole. See, many international families want their children to learn English through a qualified English as a first language teacher. So, I found that if you...taught in a more relaxed and fun style than what the children were used to in their home land...well they tended to enjoy it more. They learnt fast. They also told their parents how great it was. Many of these families respect teachers and the market is massive, so they pay well...they also get their friends involved. Well, once I had a few networks set up, I worked out I could get more money if I taught more than 1 kid at a time, so I organised online classes. Parents were happy, their kids were happy, they were learning English and I was receiving full tutoring rates for every single child I had...no matter how many I taught at a time…I was pulling in a fair bit of money, even with taxes taken out, until I stopped recently to focus on you and Hannah…The other benefit was, I could do it on the run. I had tried once, ya know, to have a normal life. Began a normal job teaching and quit soon after as my past caught up to me.”
I shook my head slowly. “You are even more incredible than I ever thought before. Maybe it is no wonder I fell in love with you. You are perfect.”
She smiled then prompted me once more “So, groceries and essentials?”
“Come here and help me order,” I murmured, as I sat on the floor and pulled her onto my knee. We spent several minutes playing the happy couple as we browsed stock and picked out the various things we needed to survive. It was momentarily peaceful, but soon her phone was buzzing once more. The pests from Duskwood had returned.
“Fuck off,” she groaned out loud.
I grinned weakly. “They won’t give up, you know.”
“Can I say ‘Be right back, after I have done some fine shagging?’ she questioned, her voice coming off as innocent. Her question took me by surprise and I began laughing hysterically.
“No you cannot!”
“But it would be conversation stopping!” she pointed out
“Or rumour starting!” I countered. “Fine,” she sighed and opened the Groupchat, once again ignoring the messages to pen her own.
GROUPCHAT
MC: I am going to get groceries. I need food and sleep. I promise I’ll talk to you later.
MC is offline.
“Take this, before I throw it.” she asked me then headed for the car, with me following close behind. “Once you go into the store, you take this back. I’ll field their comments. You focus on the task at hand, but I need to know I can track you if something does go wrong.” I pleaded with her.
She nodded weakly.
“Jake. I love you.” she murmured quietly. I smiled, kissed her lips softly, then pulled on my mask and handed her the cap. “Time to cover up again, my Princess, and never forget, I love you more than life itself.”
Part 29
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rae-sparda · 2 years
Text
The Sun Also Rises
A/N: Okay, after a year without writing anything... I'm trying it once again. Yay me. Or maybe not. That said, let's stick with everything I remember... Like, english isn't my first language, so... Ignore any mistakes, I don't have a beta, we die like men.
Maybe I'll write another part, maybe not. Don't know yet.
@umaficwriter @imgoingtofreakoutnow
Summary: After running for over five hundred years, Areum learned that the monster lurking around the corner is finally dead. When she sees the man that turned her when she was just a young and naïve girl trying to survive in a cruel world, will she run away like before or will she finally give him a chance to show her how the world can be a true sight to be alive and how to live without an ounce of fear?
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes, Areum... I am. All the supernatural world is whispering about it. I’m surprised you didn’t hear it before.”
“I did. Just didn’t give much thought, because news like this is too good to be true.”
“Well, if you want to confirm to yourself, I can disguise you and you can go on your way to see if he is truly dead.” The dark-haired vampire considered her most trusted witch friend for a few seconds, still unsure if she would survive in case she was betrayed by Rosé. “Your doppelganger is dead as far as we know. Maybe one of the brothers tried to save her and she will be a vampire just like you.”
“You’re not funny, Rosé. But since they are mostly occupied with trying to save little Seo Hannah, I might as well stop by to see with my eyes that I’m finally free.”
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For once in her long life, Areum saw witches, werewolves, and even vampires mingling together without trying to kill each other. It was a weird sight to see, but she knew where they all came from. Lee Seung-Hyun was finally dead. The monster that lurked and terrorized the supernatural world made everyone every once in a while, join forces to not get killed. The vampire king was defeated which was great, but still left people weary. His kin was killed by his own hand, and the only vampires who really had a power that rivaled his were ultimately adopted and shaped to be his successor.
Even though she didn’t need to breathe, Areum felt her breath hitch when she saw him there. Why was he here and why people weren’t running for their lives? Weren’t they afraid of him? Turning around, the vampire was more than ready to run for the rest of eternity, but, as usual... Fate wasn’t kind to her. “Areum... I was hoping to see you here after learning of your doppelganger’s devastating death.”
“Oh yeah? Tragic, isn’t it? Hopefully, she met her fate before she could turn into a shadow of herself, right? You here to kill me?” For all the sass and bravery, she showed the world, when she was in front of him, she was just like the young girl who was pleading for help because she didn’t want to die.
“Areum I-”
“Save it. I don’t wanna hear it. You still didn’t kill me so I’m enjoying myself, thank you very much.” Getting a flute of blood, she lifted it and saluted him mockingly, downing it in one long gulp.
“You still think I would kill you when I was the one who offered you immortality?”
“As far as I knew, you were helping Seungri to hunt me down, when I ran away.”
“And I still turned you, knowing that could be my own demise, Areum.”
“You pretended it was another person who turned me, what was his name again?”
“Worried about someone who died over five hundred years?” The vampire smirked and arched one perfectly shaped brow.
“Please, I couldn’t be happier you gave me a head start to run. But you still hunted me for him.” Before the Original could reply, he simply turned his head, making everyone who was around them go away, feeling on edge. They all knew what he was capable of and no one wanted to be on his path, but they all knew as well, his history with the infamous doppelganger Kim Areum, the only one who ran away from Lee Seungri, dooming herself in the process. Sighing, the vampire caught her arm and dragged her away in the blink of an eye, leaving everyone confused. If Areum was to die like they all expected, they wanted to see.
All her instincts were screaming at her to run. Not that she could get far away with her sire breathing down her neck... When they finally stopped, Areum felt her blood run cold. She was going to die and all his siblings were going to watch. Perfect...
“Brother, you- Oh, hello, Areum... Long time no see, sweetheart.” Gulping, the vampire sneered, unconsciously getting behind the beautiful and sinful man who turned her to save her life.
“Jimin. Still as short as I remember.” The glare he gave her was worth it, even if she was clearly uncomfortable to be in the presence of the original family who was molded by Seungri and also as ruthless as him, unlike his flesh and blood.
“Behave. If you two are going to bicker like children I don’t want to deal with this. Please, Jimin. Where are the others?” The blond man rolled his eyes and huffed. His brother wouldn’t ever change after he met Areum.
“They are celebrating Seungri’s death, brother. Just like we should.” He glanced towards Areum, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We didn’t know you still had it in you to have fun. But I suppose it’s well earned.” Turning around, he walked out, chuckling and waving his hand, disappearing quickly.
“You want me to believe you’re happy with Seungri’s death?”
“Yes, Areum... We have plotted against him for years now.” Widening her eyes, the doppelganger scoffed, not buying his words. “We even lured and made a deal with his most trusted witches. And after ten years we were able to strike him. He never saw it coming.”
“You-”
“Yeah, can you believe it? Hyung is still hung up on you, little Kim. Makes us wonder what you did to make him like this...”
“Jungkook!” Glancing towards the younger boy, Areum hid back her remark. She knew exactly what he was wanting and as much as wanted to punch him, he was an Original, she would never have the power to kill him.
“He didn’t grow up, did he? You know, Taehyung... Just... Just make it quick. I’m tired of running anyway.” The air was thick and even Jungkook frowned, sparing a quick glance towards his brother before vanishing just like Jimin. The older vampire sighed again, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Areum... When are you going to understand that I don’t want to kill you?”
“Don’t know. Kinda hard to believe when you’ve hunted me for over five hundred years, Tae-tae.” The little curve of his lips made her undead heart flutter, but she ignored it for the sake of her survival.
“Maybe I should show you just how much I really care about you then?”
“Only if you catch me, Taehyung...” She vamp-sped from the room, getting away in a matter of a second, but stopped as soon as he was in front of her, a mocking surprised face when their eyes met.
“I know all your moves, Areum.” The vampire arched a brow, smirking softly before shaking her head.
“Not anymore, Tae. I’m not the same girl you turned. You should know that by now.”
“You’re right. You’re not the same innocent girl anymore, and I’m the one to blame for that. I’m sorry for ruining your life.” Areum gulped, trying and failing to ignore the bubble of emotions running inside her head. Even after running for so long, the younger vampire never once blamed Taehyung for her fate, since it was her own choice. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live, even if she needed to die to do that. It was her choice. Areum died by her own terms, not based on some stupid ritual that an ancient vampire needed.
“You can’t keep thinking people's problems are your responsibility, Taehyung... You’re a supernatural being, but you’re not omnipresent like some people believe.” The smile that lit his face made the doppelganger tilt her head to the side, a small smile dancing on her lips. “You should smile more, Tae-tae... It looks good on you.”
“Please. Anything to make him not look like a walking dead. Though I heavily suspect his happiness is undeniably linked with your presence, little doppelganger. But, if you two want to dance the tango, go upstairs. We still live in a family house, isn’t that right, dear brothers?” Taehyung looked unamused, while Areum closed her eyes, praying for patience, and the rest of his siblings snickered after hearing Seokjin’s words. Five hundred years and nothing changed... Except her.
“If I wanted to sleep with your brother, it wouldn’t be here. No need to worry about your food or whores. I don’t really care what you do with your lives. I only care about mine.”
“Oh, we know very well-”
“ENOUGH!” All siblings shut up and glanced Taehyung unamused, used to being scolded after going way too far. Areum blinked, surprised, and bit her lip to not burst out laughing. “If I so much hear one of you speaking nonsense today, I will rip your hearts and feed it to the wolves.”
The silence that followed was deafening, the siblings all glancing at each other like they were all communicating between themselves, which, to be honest, they probably were. Living over a thousand years you pick on the minor twitch of the eyes or lips. All it took was a blink of her eyes, and the doppelganger found herself inside Taehyung’s room.
"You really think they are not going to eavesdrop on our conversation? I might be younger, but I’m pretty sure all your siblings loved to put their noses where they don’t belong. I suppose it’s a family trait?” She asked innocently, even though they both knew she was being anything but.
“I suppose it is, Areum.” He humored her, making the young woman smile widely, plopping herself on his bed, stretching like a cat. Taehyung’s eyes were trained on her, scanning her every move. He knew his brothers would have the time of their life bothering him, but he couldn’t even care. Not if he finally had her between his arms once more.
“Do you need me to spell it out, Tae-tae? I’m not even moving... You can catch me now.”
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nitannichionne · 4 years
Text
If He Was YOUR Fan Chapter 15: Sunday, Sunday (A Henry Cavill Fan Fic)
Chapter 15: Sunday, Sunday
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                        “It is quite beautiful.” You look around at the beach and water. “I guess the storm is over?”
“I think so,” Henry nods throwing a stick for Kal to fetch. “Like it?”
“I’d like to sit here with a notebook sometime,” you inhale deeply. “Serene.”
“I run here, come here to think,” Henry shrugs with a smile. “The waves are still a bit high today, you know, because of the storm.” Kal brings the stick and he pets him. “Good boy!” He throws it again.
You sit down on a larger rock and stare out at the waters a safe distance away from getting wet, hugging yourself against the chill of early morning. It is a beautiful day. The rocks watch the skies and waters make peace after two long days of turmoil, and you feel like a spectator, listening to the lull of the gentle wind and waves with the occasional but welcome sounds of Henry and Kal playing on the shore. If there was coffee, the world would be perfect.
You reviewed the weekend in your mind, trying to commit every detail to memory. You don’t know how long this is going to last. Henry seems wonderful, and you don’t want it to end, but you want to be as prepared as possible if that is the case.
youtube
You hear a click and turn, startled to see him smiling at you with his phone pointed in your direction. “Henry!” you laugh, shaking your head. “I look horrible.”
“Not to me,” he trots to you and sits, pulling you across his lap. He watches your legs wrap around him almost instinctively, and he grins up at you. You both stare into each other’s eyes remembering this was the position you were in last night in the middle of the bed under the moonlight as it peeked through half open shutters. He filled you in so many ways you almost wept, your emotions were running so strong.
You kiss his forehead, his eyes, his nose, and tilt his head back to rub your cheek against his. You sigh heavily and dreamily, holding him close. He was tender, yet a force to be reckoned with in so many ways. He was intelligent, yet at times, well—thick. You chuckle at your thought, and then rub your cheek against him again. He is strong yet vulnerable, like you.
He pulls away gently to look at you. “What are you thinking?”
You are thinking how this weekend changes everything, but you are not sure what that change is. This is daunting and delightfully new territory. You’ve never done this before-and him? You realize maybe you should be more scared and guarded. The man was known for trysts and liaisons, not holding on to anyone longer than a year. You try to keep the sadness from your face and mask it with a small smile.
“So, now, you do know that if Archer does anything at all, I’m taking care of it?”
You blink. “What?”
“Game’s over for him, is all.”
You frown at him. “Game?”
“He didn’t respect my interest in you,” he says, his arms cradling you as his hands splay your upper back and he kisses your neck before sayin, “and now he’d better.”
“Henry-!” You hear desire and danger in his whispered tone. You look at him, and he has a look that tells you this could be an argument. “You can’t—"
He frowns up at you and says, “I’m sorry, I just don’t take kindly to how he acted. Tomorrow, I’m getting to the bottom of it at the gym.”
“What?” you feel a sudden panic. “What?” Your mind is racing.
“I just feel like your being left was not accidental,” his voice is deep again, his blue eyes sparking. “and it was in bad taste, not to mention dangerous.”
“But I’m alright—”
“Yes, but that is not his doing,” he bit out.
“How about you let me talk to him?” you ask, framing his face with your hands. The look on Henry’s face looks like he is going to hurl accusations, not investigate. “I may be able to find out what really happened.”
“Did you talk to Stella?”
“Yes, I did,” you say slowly. “She was still upset about the whole thing, and she said that Archer had turned around, but then you came.”
“Hmm,” Henry’s eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. “So, what about Hannah?”
You sigh. This was what you didn’t want to talk about. “She and I aren’t close.”
“But you, Stella and Hannah came from the Palmer,” Henry replied, searching my eyes. “I remember her-your bunkmates? She and Stella saw us that morning.”
“Yes, and she saw me at the job interview.”
Henry’s exhale ended in a look of displeasure. “Do you think she is capable of such things?”
“I don’t think so,” you say quickly, but Henry’s look silently demands the truth. “I don’t know.” You brighten on purpose. Tomorrow is day away, and you no longer want to talk about it. “Kind of a chilly day. How about some cajun soup?”
“It’s Sunday—”
“The ingredients are at my place, I was going to bring them over and cook for you.”
That made him smile. “Let’s get them before we hole up again, hmm?”
Hours later you are back at his place, and the whole house smells of bread, coffee and spices. Henry insists on making bread to go with your soup.
You serve him up some, and he digs in. He gives a small cough. “Spicy.”
“Take your time, you can’t wolf that down,” you warn. “The spices demand their respect.”
With a raise of his eyebrows, he spoons out the soup more slowly. You cut some bread and bring him and butter  with it. He looks at it and looks up at you. “Thank you, darling.”
“No prob,” you smile.
“Sit with me.”
“Dishes.”
“I’ll help you with those.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“Sit with me, please?”
You can’t say no when he looks like that. You serve yourself a small bowl and cut the warm bread, buttering it with ease. “This is going to be good.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he nods. He looks at Kal, who is eating his food in the corner of the kitchen and then back at you. He stares at you.
“What?”
“You look nice in my sweater,” he smiles at you.
“Thanks—oh!” You realize you forgot to get clothes! “I forgot my clothes, babe!”
His smile widens. “It’s okay. Remember you never really used that change of clothes—well, except the underwear.”
You realize this is the first time you called him anything other than his name and feel a flush of heat. You feel a little embarrassed, but he’s been calling you all sorts of endearments. It was bound to happen and it isn’t a bad thing.
With the exception of studying his script and running lines, the day is very laid back. You both smell rain and take Kal out before it does.
As night falls, you start getting ready for Monday. You shake your head at Henry, who is on his hamster wheel of an exercise bike.
“What?” he huffs.
“I cycle.”
“Ah, what is this?”
“Spinning.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, you don’t have to maintain core balance, so it’s just cardio and motion.”
“That’s right, you cycle-love not being at point A or point B but someplace in between.”
Another quote from one of your web pages. “Trains have that effect, too.”
“Well—” he smiles widely. “Give it a try.” You hear a beep and he swings off. “Five minutes?”
You smirk and you swing on. “Can I have something to look at?”
“What a baby!” He teases. He pulls turns his computer screen toward you. “English countryside?”
“Sure.” You smirk.
He starts the video and sets the bike. “There—” he smacks your rear soundly. “off you go!” He throws his towel over his shoulder and walks away.
You do the short program and realize the difficulty levels are a decent leg workout and you break a sweat. You still prefer cycling outside though. When you are done with the program you realize he set it for ten minutes instead of five, the stinker! You swing off, and move through the house. “Henry, you butthead, you set the bike for—” Your voice dies in your throat.
“Ah, just in time,” he smiles, his eyes full of humor as he walks by in nothing but a towel. “Shower?”
You start undressing as you follow him, leaving a trail of semi-sweaty clothes behind you. By the time you step in the water is running and he has already begun bathing. He stops, however, to grab you by your waist and draw you to him.
“God you’re slow.”
“Am not,” you retort childishly. “you had a headstart—” You are cut off my his kiss as he washes and shampoos. His eyes are closed and you get to just stare at him.
He turns away. “Get my back?”
You take the sponge away from him and alternate between scrubbing and gliding over his skin.
“Ah, I had a feeling you would do that,” his voice sounds soft and breathy. “Would it be too much trouble for you to—”
You go lower to his lower back and glutes, making him laugh softly. You then put the sponge in your other hand and return to him, moving your hand to cup him where he is soft, gently massaging and caressing him, then moving over his growing shaft as he spreads his legs and puts his palms against the shower wall, moaning.
“Darling, darling if you keep….ohhh….” he hisses, surrendering to your caress as his hips begin to sway to meet your movements and your thumb caresses the tip alternately. You hold him close with your other hand, kissing his spine and rubbing up against him. His soft moans blend with the sound of the shower until he whispers your name in that certain way and you feel a wave warmer than the shower water move over you. You hope to hear him say your name like that again, and you never want to forget it-the tone, the volume, the heat-never.
Monday’s going to be interesting isn’t it? Stay tuned, and if you want to be tagged, let me know. Follow if you want to look at other Cavill stories. 
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13-reasons-ideas · 3 years
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Can’t Go Back Part 16
A/N: This chapter is very Justin-centric. I felt like Addy and Justy needed a day where they didn't need to worry about boys or moms. Just a day to be kids. It’s kind of filler but I like it. It’s a light chapter. As always, feedback is always nice and much love. - Em 
Things were awkward between us for the next week. We had agreed to table the discussion about his dad and had come to a tentative understanding about Justin. We had never had a fight like that before so, we weren’t really sure where the lines were yet. I learned that his dad was a line you don’t cross unless invited. He learned that Justin was a line that was going to run parallel to our relationship, whether he liked it or not. Monty’s behaviour at school was different too. He was a little nicer for people to be around. Not Tyler Down, but I couldn’t really blame him. The kid was fucking creepy. Monty was even sort of polite to Justin.
By the following Monday, things had gone back to normal. Our texts were longer and less to the point. He was… well he was more Monty at school than he was for a few days. His friends didn’t seem to pick up on the change. But I did. He’s trying. I got dressed in in my comfy light wash jeans, because Justin and I were going to the mall after school and paired it with a light pink tank top with an old red and black flannel. The flannel had been sitting at the back of my closet for quite a while. I found it while I was going through and cleaning it out for donations. “Morning Dad.” I called as I heard him pass my room. He cleared his throat and grunted in response. He must have just woken up.
Downstairs, dad was making a cup of coffee while he read the paper. “Morning Addy.” He nodded when he heard me. Definitely just woke up. Grabbing a granola bar for breakfast, I went through and gathered up my books for school. Once they were neatly arranged in my backpack, I set it by the door. My book from last night was still sitting on the island. I took it and flipped it open to my last page since I had a little time to kill before leaving for school. Deciding I would get too lost in the book, I rethought and took it over to my bag to take to school.
“Justin and I are going to the mall after school. He needs help shoe shopping. And I need to grab a few replacement shirts. I had to throw some out that were too old.”
“Have fun. Don’t forget to grab your mom’s prescription on the way home.”
“I won’t. Do we need anything else while we are out?”
“No, we should be okay. I’ll text you if I think of anything today. Your mom will be late today too. One of her students needed to schedule an afterhours meeting.”
“Okay. See you later dad.”
“Bye.”
Justin was early today, which surprised me. At least until I noticed his duffel bag. He must have spent the night at Bryce’s last night. He was mingling with his friends. I waved as I passed them to my locker, not paying anyone much mind. I watched them a bit from across the hall. They were goofing off as usual. Justin’s smile seemed a little forced. I’ll talk to him after school. My eyes scanned the group. When they landed on Monty, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. And I will admit I may have possibly spent more time than strictly required, simply checking him out. It was during my perusal of his body that I noticed something familiar. A little too familiar. My eyes widened and I looked down. That… that’s… we are wearing the same shirt. Spinning around and opening my locker again, I ripped off the flannel and shoved it in my locker.
Casually making my way over to the group of boys, I made sure to rub my arms like I was cold. “Morning Justin. Morning Boys.” I shivered.
“Morning Addy.” Justin said, as he leaned in to hug me gently.
“Where’s my morning Addy?” Bryce smirked.
“Oh, I’m sorry Bryce. I must have forgotten we say morning to each other. Morning Walker.”
“Morning Addy. Are you cold or are you finally going to tell us all what your secret to doing well in school is?”
“I’m cold. And I’ve shared my secret with you before. It’s called actually opening the books they rent to us and reading them. Hey Justin, do you have an extra sweater? I spilled water on my other shirt like right after I left the house.”
“Yeah, I have one in my locker. Go ahead and grab it.”
“Thanks. Have I told you you’re the best lately?”
“Nope.” He laughed.
“Well, now I have.”
I was in a good mood when lunch rolled around. I nodded to Courtney in the hall on my way to the cafeteria. She was talking to Marcus about one thing or another. Tyler was watching Hannah in a way that had it been anyone else, wouldn’t have been weird. Clay was watching her too. I smiled and waved at him. He nodded back. “Hey Addison.” Tyler called. I turned around and he waved his camera at me. I waved my book in the air like I was busy but stopped for the student life photographer anyway. He snapped his photo and I continued on.
Since I was in a good mood, I didn’t even think twice about sitting with Justin and his friends. “Are we eating at the mall?” Justin asked when I sat down.
“I don’t see why not. I’ll have to stop at Baker Drugs on my way home though. Mum has a refill waiting.”
“Okay.” He nodded and bit into his sandwich. Jeff bounded over to the table.
“Guess who got above a C?” He asked, proudly.
“You?” Anders asked in response.
“Yup. Now I can finally make Clay make a move.”
“He’s going to hate it Jeff.” I said.
“I know. But he needs to put himself out there.”
“Make a move on who?” Monty asked.
“Hannah Baker.” Jeff replied. “Everyone knows he likes her.”
“I don’t really pay attention to the Jensen kid.” He shrugged.
“He hates dances.”
“I know. But a deal is a deal. I get above a C he goes to the dance. Are you going Addy?”
“Wasn’t planning on it, no.”
“Why not?” Bryce asked. I rolled my eyes.
“I hate school dances. The only not crappy part is that Tony is DJing.”
“You have to go. I’m going.” Justin begged with his mouth full.
I shook my head. What is it with boys not chewing their food? “I went to the last one. It’s Bryce’s turn to babysit you.”
“I babysat last time.”
“No, you didn’t. You were sneaking off behind the bleachers with your date. I babysat. Plus, I can’t tie a tie. And neither can Justin. Ergo, your turn.”
“Yes you-.” Justin started. I kicked him under the table.
“I’m not going to the stupid dance. Besides, I have homework.”
“Addison. The dance isn’t for like three weeks.” Jeff complained.
“I know Jeff. But I am not Clay Jensen. I have friends. I have a life.”
“Aren’t you friends with Clay?” Scott asked.
“Yes. So, I know he keeps to himself. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to the dance.”
“You’re not going to the dance yet.” Justin smiled devilishly. I rolled my eyes.
“Did you finish your English paper?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Did you?” He challenged. Monty choked on a laugh. Smooth. Bryce quirked his brow.
“Did you just ask her if she finished a homework assignment?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged.
“Yes, I did. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. Since you’re on me about my homework.”
“Justin. The last time she handed something in late, was like seventh grade because she was out of school the day it was due.” Monty added.
“I remember. She had a stress rash because of it. How do you remember?”
He shrugged. “It had never happened before.” He noticed that? And thought it was important enough to remember? Thankfully before any more questions could be raised, the bell rang.
“I’ll meet you at my locker after school Justin.” He gave me a thumbs up before walking away, already in conversation with Zach about something.
Justin and I drove to the mall, singing along to whatever was on a Spotify artist radio. “Do we want a pretzel now or later?” I asked as I pulled my purse out of my backpack in the car. I had changed back into the flannel from this morning while I waited for my best friend at my locker.
“Now.” We said in unison.
Pretzels in hand, we wandered around the mall for a while. “I need some new shirts. I had to throw a bunch out because they were really old and not able to be donated.”
“You want opinions?”
“Of course.”
“Shoes first?”
“Sure.”
“DSW?” He shrugged and nodded. At the store, we headed straight for the men’s section. I pointed out a few pairs that seemed like they were his style. He made a face at the first couple of pairs and shook his head. Shrugging, I pointed out a pair of Nikes that were on sale. He gave me his best seriously look and I laughed. “They could be nice.”
“Yeah. If I want to look like my feet are three sizes bigger than they are.”
“You know what they say about guys with big feet though Justin.” He flipped me off. “What about these?” This time, he actually tried them on. They were not the right ones.
After a few more busts, we decided it was time to try a different store. Famous Footwear was having a sale. We stopped in there. Once again, we headed straight for the men’s sneakers. He tried a couple of pairs of Converse. Neither of us were very big fans. “White?” I asked, pointing out a pair of Pumas.
“No.” He shot down. I nodded and we kept looking. He picked up a pair of grey and white Nikes. “These are nice.”
“They are.” We found his size and he tried them on. “How do they feel?”
“Good.” He flexed his foot a few times before trying them out to walk. “Yeah, these feel good.” I smiled and we placed them back in the box to go pay.
Shoes in hand, we made a quick pitstop for coffee. Justin brought up the topic of the Winter Formal again while we walked around trying to find some shirts for me. “Are you really not going to go Addy?”
“No Justin. I don’t want to go. And besides, I have no one to go with.” At least, no one I can go to a school dance with.
“You can go with us.”
“Go with you and Bryce. And Bryce’s boys?” I quirked my brow, sharply.
“Yeah. We don’t bite. We are fun.”
“Fun. Sure.” I muttered.
“You could see Clay try to talk to Hannah.”
“Or I could sit at home and binge watch Pretty Little Liars.”
“I thought you said you had homework Addy.”
“You know that was just so Jeff would let my excuse slide. For now, at least.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“If I say I’ll think about it, will you drop it?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“Then I will think about it.” He made a fist pumping motion and I burst out laughing. “You are such a freaking dork.”
We stopped at Target and looked around the clothes-he wasn’t going to let me look at anything else-for a while. But nothing really felt like me when I looked at it or tried it on. American Eagle was a little better. I was able to at least find things I liked on the hanger and on me. “This?” I asked Justin when I came out of the dressing room in a soft purple shirt.
“It’s nice. Makes your boobs look good.”
“That’s always a plus.” I added it to the small yes pile. A blue one was next. He shook his head.
“Not your colour.”
“Didn’t think so.” A couple more noes were added to the pile before we checked out. Aritzia and Zara were close by, but I didn’t like anything on the rack enough to try it on. We made a quick stop at Madewell and I got a couple of plain white t-shirts.
“Can we make a Sephora stop? I need to replace my foundation.”
“We can if you give me your wallet, so you don’t spend all of your money.”
“I won’t spend it all. I literally only need a new bottle of foundation.”
“Alright. You have ten minutes to get in line tops.”
“Yes Dad.” I shook my head. Justin scoffed jovially. He followed close behind me in the store to make sure I stayed true to my word. They were out of my shade in my usual formula. I grabbed a bottle of my backup formula instead. By the time we were done, I didn’t even have the energy to make a stop at the bookstore. We decided to grab a slice of pizza to go instead of sitting in the food court.
Back in town, we stopped at Baker Drugs and got my mom’s prescription. I grabbed a box of gobstoppers for good measure and grinned at Justin. “Are you spending the night? We can do movies before bed as long as you aren’t a pain in my ass in the morning.”
“Sure. I’ll let my mom know.”
At home, I texted Monty while Justin was in the bathroom. Hey, Justin is spending the night for movie night.
Okay. How was shopping?
Good. I got some stuff.
Awesome. Enjoy your movies babe. Justin came back before I could reply. “Who you texting?”
“Just Zach about our Government assignment. Do we want snacks?”
“Of course, we want snacks.” Together, the two of us went downstairs and raided the cabinets.
“Hi Justin. Hi Addison.” Mum greeted as she came in the door.
“Hi Margot.” Justin replied.
“Hi Mum.”
“Make sure you don’t eat too much candy you two.” She chuckled when she saw us trying to stuff a box of Swedish berries in Justin’s sweater.
“We won’t Mum.”
“Yes Mom.”
I put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. Justin and I ran upstairs with our contraband. We both changed into comfy clothes and arranged our candy on my bed. When the microwave beeped, I ran back down to get it. Mum pretended not to notice me grabbing an extra chocolate bar. I heard her laughing with dad about it though.
“They really are quite cute together.”
“I suppose. Thankfully we don’t need to worry about them being another kind of cute.” Dad said. No, you really don’t.
Justin had Netflix pulled up when I got back to my room and shut the door. He was scrolling aimlessly. “I put butter on in the middle and the top.”
“Wonderful.” He grinned. “What mood are we in?”
“Superbad?”
“Addison! That is an R rated movie.” He exclaimed, scandalously.
“But it’s funny.”
“Superbad it is.” We got settled and hit play. After it was done, we scrolled through and picked The Social Network. Finally, just for fun to end the night… er, morning, we decided to watch the 2011 Footloose. Between the three films, we ate so much candy we knew we would wake up with stomach aches on Tuesday.
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c-estmabiologie · 3 years
Text
nine terrible cups of tea (and at least one equally terrible cup of coffee) | the haunting of bly manor fic
Dani tries to master the art of making a proper cup of tea. It goes just about as well as you'd expect. (1987 - 1994)
Also on AO3!
One
“Really you could just throw a tea bag into your mug, pour some water on top, and call it a tea. But we’re better than that.”
Dani isn’t convinced but she tries her best to follow the steps as Jamie patiently describes them. She talks about making tea with the casual confidence of someone who believes that Dani can will a good cup of tea to exist. As if this isn’t the first time that she has tried to hold Dani’s hand through the process. Dani’s pretty sure it won’t be the last time either, but she tries to wield some of Jamie’s confidence as her own.
“If you want to be really proper, you can even warm the pot first with some hot water from the kettle and, you know, just dump it down the sink.”
Dani swirls the hot water around inside her teapot, feels it warm under her palms. It’s nice. Wasteful, but nice.
“What does this do?”
“No idea. Somebody probably decided that it makes the tea taste better.”
“Okay,” She drops two teabags in. One for herself, and one for the pot, according to Jamie who’s not leaving tea totally up to chance and Dani’s efforts; her arm is soft and cool against Dani’s as they stand shoulder-to-shoulder at their kitchen counter, each with their own pot of steeping tea.
“Now here’s where you might make a mortal enemy of a Brit: adding milk to your cup before or after the tea.”
“Does it have to have milk?” Dani asks, thinking Aren’t there people who drink their black tea black, like coffee? That’s a thing, right?
Dani can feel Jamie twitching a smirk beside her without having to look.
“It has milk if you’re making English tea.”
She remembers the looks she got from Hannah and Owen and even the children whenever she’d made an attempt at tea. She can’t remember when she’d added the milk. Jamie, for sure, must be exaggerating the offense.
"But which one’s the right way?”
“Hmm? Oh, I don’t really care as long as it’s the right amount of milk.” Dani realizes that Jamie’s already gone ahead and poured her own cup without her, milk and all, and she’s missed it. She pours her own tea and splashes in milk until its colour matches the tea in Jamie’s cup.
They look the same to Dani.
“Alright,” Jamie says, “let’s have a taste shall we?”
They taste the same to Dani, but Jamie’s brow furrows just a little as she takes the cup away from her lips. And then she starts laughing.
“Okay, how is that possible? We did the exact same thing!” Dani takes another sip from her own cup to prove her point. It tastes fine! It’s tea!
“I really have no idea, Dani,” Jamie’s still laughing. “You’re just shite at making tea.”
Two
Jamie's been trying to relax with a book in the bedroom when she hears the beeping coming from another room. Just three little beeps, then nothing. A minute later, the three beeps chirp through her focus again.
When it happens a third time, she finally puts down the book to shout.
“What is that?”
“What’s what?” comes Dani’s reply from across the apartment. Then the beeps make themselves known once more.
Then: “Oh. It’s the microwave. I got distracted.”
Owen had bought them a microwave as a housewarming gift. It was a convection microwave, he’d told them proudly, which apparently made it special because you could microwave your food on a metal tray if you wanted. The idea was that they could warm up their takeaway faster, or cook frozen dinners (Owen’s very generous way of chiding them for both being awful cooks). Jamie hated it. It was big and ugly and had faux-wood paneling on the side. She’d rather stick to making burned stews on the stovetop.
Dani appears in the doorway with a mug in each hand. She holds out one mug to Jamie.
“I made you tea.”
“What, in the microwave?”
Dani shrugs and sips from her mug.
“No.”
“It’s fine—”
“Absolutely not.”
Three
It’s a quiet-ish day at The Leafling and, to be honest, Dani is sort of enjoying the peace of arranging flower displays and curling ribbons. The sun is warm through the windows.
Jamie is laid up in bed with some sort of cold. She’s being a surprisingly big baby about it, too, Dani is surprised to realize. Her wife doesn’t like it when she can’t be useful.
Speaking of certain wives who shouldn’t be up, Dani can hear steps coming down the stairwell that connects the shop to their apartment. The shop’s back door pushes open a moment later and Jamie appears with jacket on and her curls stuff up into a hat. She’s pale and her nose is pink and tender-looking around the nostrils.
“What are you doing down here?” Dani demands in her most teacherly voice, but Jamie clearly has plans to go out, not back upstairs.
Jamie’s voice is raspy and hoarse.
“I need to go out to the shops and get some more milk. Ours is off.”
“I had some in my cereal this morning and it was fine.”
Jamie coughs into her collar.
“The date on it’s fine. But I add it to my tea and it’s curdled.”
“Oh.” Dani’d left the tea steeping for her before she’d come downstairs.
Then: “It’s probably the lemon doing that. In your tea, I mean.”
“There’s lemon in my tea?”
Dani nods. “There’s honey in it, too. It’s supposed to help with your sore throat.’
Jamie sighs, then sniffles, then seems to deflate a little.
“I’m gonna be honest: it sounds absolutely disgusting.”
But Dani insists that she at least give it a try (without milk), that it will make her feel better (it does, a little, admittedly), and that, who knows, she might like it (she does not).
Four
Summer heat hits hard, and The Leafling doesn’t have air conditioning. The ceiling fans do nothing more than push hot air around the shop. The plants slump in their pots (which annoys Jamie), and fat houseflies keep finding their way indoors, only to bang themselves relentlessly against the windows until they fall dead on the sills (which annoys Dani). Everything is slightly damp with sweat or condensation.
“This is something my ex-almost mother-in-law used to make,” Dani says, stirring the ice around in the pitcher with a wooden spoon.
“You know there’s probably a less complicated way to say ‘ex-almost mother-in-law’.” Jamie says. Her hair is sticking to her neck, and her gardening gloves feel like they’re being peeled off of her skin as she takes them off.
“She used to make it for my, you know, Eddie and me in the summer when we were kids,” Dani hesitated. “I don’t know. It just always reminds me of the best parts of summer.”
But when she looks up Jamie has a glass and is holding it against her cheek.
“You know,” she says, “I do know what iced tea is. It’s not exactly a foreign concept.”
Jamie is thoughtful as she drinks the tea slowly.
“So,” she says finally. “This is what makes Poppins think of summer.
“It’s kind of a funny taste isn’t it? Cold tea on purpose.”
Jamie gets up and pulls Dani into a hug that’s nice, but not altogether pleasant — their skin clings together and comes apart audibly in the heat and they both smell very strongly of themselves.
“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Jamie says into her shoulder.
“I’m going to go upstairs and put the kettle on.”
Five
“What is it?”
The gift sits on their kitchen counter, out of place and mysterious with its glass-and-stainless steel modernity next to their wooden cutting boards, cluttered and kind of oily spicy jars, and that obnoxious faux-wood panelled microwave.
“Owen says it’s a French press. He was really excited about some Danish company. Said it’s apparently great for beginners.”
Jamie makes a note to herself to somehow ask Owen to stop giving them gifts for their kitchen.
“I didn’t think Owen drank coffee.”
Dani looks thoughtful, “I don’t think he does.”
Owen’s gift doesn’t come with instructions, and neither one of them wants to ring Owen up to ask for help. Dani takes charge, grinding the coffee beans (which Owen had also generously provided) in the spice grinder… and then washing out the grinder and starting again when Jamie points out that the fresh grounds reek of coriander.
They aren’t sure if they’re supposed to give it all a stir once the water’s been added. Or when to press the plunger. Or how long it’s supposed to sit. Their first attempt produces faintly coffee-flavoured water. Their second, a grainy, chewable mess.
The French press gets relegated to a high shelf above the stove, behind a fern. Eventually it will pinch-hit as a flower pot and Dani will love how the glass reveals the root systems buried in the soil.  
Six
“This tea tastes weird.”
It’s Dani who says it.
Jamie looks up from the arrangement she’s been working on. It’s wedding season and The Leafling has been swamped with orders for bouquets and table arrangements. Jamie’s been going back and forth on this particular order all week with a bride who seems unhappy no matter how precisely she tries to follow the bride’s vision. Frankly, it’s been pissing her off (the last time she’d come in and rejected Jamie’s work, Dani had sensibly stepped in to take over the conversation before Jamie could get their shop shut down for punching a customer).
“Are you sure you didn’t accidentally drink vase water?”
She picks up her own cup and takes a sip. The milk must have been added too soon and seized up the brewing. The tea tastes like nothing. Dani is watching her.
“Yeah, this is pretty bad.”
Dani says nothing.
“Oh shut up. I’m allowed to have off days, too, you know.”
“I didn’t say anything!” Dani says, but she’s smiling.
Seven
Jamie somehow manages to drink vase water.
Neither of them can explain how it got into her tea cup or where her actual tea had gone.
Eight
“Hey.”
The word is spoken into Jamie’s hairline and followed with a kiss. She smiles, half-awake, and reaches to pull Dani to her so she can kiss her properly. Her hand jostles a tray and something makes a precarious, jangling sound.
“What’s this?” she rubs at her eyes. It’s still mostly dark in the room.
“You’re up early.”
Dani’s at the side of their bed with a serving tray. She’s barefoot, still in her pyjamas and, from what Jamie can tell, still pretty sleepy herself.
"What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion.” Dani places the tray on the bed and climbs in next to Jamie slowly, careful not to tip anything on the tray.
"I just thought it would be nice to have the morning together. I bought scones.” Dani warps her voice around the word in a way that is definitely not the American pronunciation, but just as definitely not a passable approximation of Jamie’s accent. As Dani hopes it would, it makes Jamie smile.
“I see that. Scones.”
“Mm-hmm. And biscuits,” Dani never could manage that one without the secret sort of laugh that says that the Rich Tea biscuit that she’s picking up off a plate will only ever be a cookie to her.
It’s all lovely. The biscuits, the morning, Dani: lovely.
And then, of course, there is the matter of the tea.
A few problems that meet Jamie immediately as she takes a tentative sip. First, it’s cold. Second, even with what looks like an alright amount of milk (Jamie notes that Dani’s been getting better on this front)...it’s bracingly bitter.
She bravely takes another sip to avoid spoiling the otherwise perfectly cozy moment. Something solid dislodges itself from the bottom of her cup and hits her wetly on the nose. Jamie can’t help but splutter a little, and the thing plops back into the cup. It’s the tea bag.
“Uh, Dani?” Jamie realizes that she’s poking a bruise a little here, and Dani looks so happy next to her, breaking off pieces of scone with her fingers.
“How long was the tea left sitting?”
Dani’s brow furrows.
“I’m not sure how early you wake up these days,” she says. “I may have made it… a while ago. Is it okay?”
Jamie gently places the cup back onto the tray.
“It’s just a little on the cool side, that’s all.”
“Oh,” Dani tests the side of her cup with the back of my hand, as if to memorize what a little on the cool side means to Jamie.  
“I can just warm it up in the microw—”
“ No. Let’s just enjoy our morning.”
Nine
“Does anyone who drinks this stuff actually enjoy it?”
They’re in bed, limb flung loosely over limb. On the TV screen, a woman sits tensely under a tree while another sticks her bare arm right into a beehive. Bees swarm up her sleeves and into her undone braid.
“I think it’s pretty nice,” Dani says, “It’s peppermint. It’s supposed to be relaxing.”
Jamie curls up against Dani’s chest. She cradles her cup between them, more for its warmth than for any interest in drinking it.
“It tastes like hot toothpaste.”
On the screen, the bee charmer has returned with a mason jar full of honey. She invites the other woman to have a taste.
“Do you think they’re gonna get together?” Dani says. Jamie considers the scene for a few seconds.
“Yeah. But it’s a little weird to go after your dead brother’s fiancée like that isn’t it?”
Her own mug empty on the bedside table, Dani picks up Jamie’s abandoned tea. It’s still warm and it’s left a warm spot on the blankets between them.
“I guess it’s a little weird. I still want them to get together.”
Jamie makes a sound that might be agreement, but her eyes are drifting closed.
She’ll fall asleep before the movie’s over. Dani will fill her in on the details she’s missed over breakfast, before they have to return the tape to the video store.
Ten
“It’s so nice to have someone cook for me for a change,” Owen says, pleasantly. It’s not often that he’s been able to come around to their place over the years (and lately it’s become even less often).
“You’ve always done so much for us,” Dani calls from the kitchen. Something clatters loudly into the sink. “We just want to return the favour.”
Owen glances at Jamie, who confirms with a nod that it was, of course, Dani who had had such a thoughtful idea.
“I’m just nervous to serve dinner to the accomplished chef and restaurateur Owen Sharma,” Jamie says. “I’ll have you know that if it were my idea, I’d have just gotten takeaway and arranged it artfully onto plates. Real plates, of course. Nothing but the best for our Owen.”
Dani comes in then with a tray and busies herself with setting up the table. Jamie clears away the half-melted candles and clutter to make room.
“I thought we could have some tea before dinner.”
The hesitation that hangs in the air is palpable mist off a pond.
Owen clears his throat and politely reaches for a cup.
“Did you make it, Dani?”
“She’s been practicing,” Jamie says, drawing one knee up to her chest and reaching over to get a cup for herself.
“She says I’m not allowed to be a judge anymore. Says I’m biased against her, but really my tastebuds are probably shot. So, you are her lucky new victim.”
They toast to friendships and loves that are never truly lost and gamely drink Dani’s latest attempt at a proper cup of tea.
“You know what,” Owen says after a moment. “It’s not that bad.”
“Really?”
“You hear that, Poppins?” Jamie says, with another half toast of her cup. “You did it.”
“Really?” Dani says again. She takes her own sip, searching the taste for what might have made this brew remarkable. It just tastes like tea to her.
“It’s good?”
Owen and Jamie both make non-committal sounds, but neither do they abandon their drinks.
“It’s not the most amazing tea I’ve ever had,” Jamie admits. “But it’s absolutely, absolutely a decent cup of tea.”
“You know what?” Dani says, “I’ll take it.”
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He Could Be the One
(Part Two of the Hannah Montana au that nobody asked for but that’s actually really fun to write)
---
Geralt slips into the alleyway behind the venue and clambers his way onto a pile of empty boxes outside the star’s green room. If he can’t take Jaskier to see Dandelion then he can certainly take an exclusive picture of Dandelion to give Jaskier. Hopefully his unrequited crush would be one step closer to, well, requiting things.
When Geralt finally reaches the top of the pile and peeks in through the window, though, that plan goes to shit. He watches with wide, shocked amber eyes as Dandelion removes what is, apparently, a heavily styled blonde wig. Underneath the disguise is a shock of messy, chestnut brown hair.
When Dandelion turns around to face the window again, his makeup removed and his wig clutched in his hand, Geralt gasps in shock and loses his grip on the rough bricks of the windowsill. 
“Fuck!” he cries, falling backwards onto his ass in the alley. The camera he’d rented from the school newspaper goes hurtling off into the darkness, probably broken. 
He knows that face. He knows that soft-looking brown hair.
Dandelion and Jaskier are one in the same.
A moment after he hits the ground, the venue’s back door bursts open and Jaskier glances around, brows furrowed with worry. “Hello? Are you okay out here?”
“Hnnn...” Geralt groans, rubbing the spot on his hip where his body had first connected with the ground. He knows it’s going to bruise; if this is even really happening. It feels like a dream. Like something that only happens on the Disney channel but never in real life (this cannot be real life). If it does bruise well...holy fucking shit, Jaskier is a pop star.
“G-Geralt!?” Jaskier glances between his classmate, still laying sprawled against the dirty asphalt of the alley in a state of apparent catatonia, and the wig still clutched in his hand. “Well shit.”
“You-you’re-” he gawks, pointing up at Jaskier. You know, like an idiot. “You’re Dandelion!”
“Ta da?” Jaskier half-smiles. The slender brunette is clearly exhausted from the show he’s just put on and now he looks anxious on top of it. Seeing just how vulnerable and scared Jaskier seems, Geralt’s heart melts in his chest. It always melts when he sees the cute junior; he’s had a crush on the other boy for months. Ever since he’d transferred into Geralt’s English class. 
The same junior who is, apparently, an internationally recognized pop sensation with a net worth somewhere in the millions. 
“G...Geralt?” Jaskier asks again, waving his hand in front of the older boy’s face. “Hello?”
“You’re uh...” Geralt is trying desperately to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth so he can fucking say something and stop staring like a fool. “Holy shit, you’re Dandelion. That’s why you’re always humming his - your songs between classes, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“I think I broke the school’s only camera,” Geralt says, gesturing out into the darkness. “But it was worth it.”
“Want to come sit in my green room and chat? My manager is probably going to want you to sign an NDA or some shit,” Jaskier sighs. “I don’t know. I’ll let him handle it. I’m too tired. That was fun, but I’m exhausted. And hungry.”
“I’m so sorry.” It’s the only thing Geralt can think to say as he stands up and dusts himself off. He hadn’t meant to encroach on such an enormous and personal secret; he’d just wanted a gift for... “I was trying to take a picture of Dandelion to give to this guy at school that I like.”
“Oh yeah?” Jaskier smiles, leading Geralt into the warmth of the green room. The shorter boy takes a seat on a very comfortable looking couch and pats the cushion next to him. “Come sit, I don’t bite.”
The nervous senior lowers himself onto the couch as if he’s afraid it might come alive and eat him. His ass is perched on the very edge; ready to take flight at any moment if necessary. “It was going to be a gift for him. His name is uh, it’s Jaskier.”
“What?”
“I thought you were busy tonight,” Geralt gestures vaguely towards the wig, “Although I didn’t think it would be anything like this. Since you couldn’t be here with me, I was going to take a one-of-a-kind candid picture of Dandelion as a gift for you.” 
“That’s incredibly sweet, Geralt,” the pop-star croons, placing a casual hand on his classmate’s knee. Geralt is very, very close to swooning (which he will never admit out loud). 
“Am I going to be in trouble?”
“No. Probably not. Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“I’d never do anything to hurt you or break your trust, Jask.”
The young pop icon smiles, ducks his head, and blushes. Geralt has never been happier before in his entire fucking life.
---
Dandelion has a show two towns over the following weekend. Jaskier gives Geralt a free ticket (complete with a backstage pass) and begs him to come along and see some kind of ‘cool surprise’. The senior is flabbergasted, holding the laminated papers in his hands as if they’re the holy grail. 
They might as well be.
---
“So I’ve got a new album coming out,” Dandelion announces towards the end of his set. “And since you’ve been such a wonderful and rowdy crowd, I think you deserve a sneak peek. What do you think?”
The audience’s response is nearly deafening. Geralt’s chest is being crushed against a black metal barrier by a wave of other giddy teens but he doesn’t give a shit. He wants to be as close to the stage as possible; he could wake up from this dream at any moment and he really wants to enjoy it until then.
“This one is for my homecoming date,” Dandelion states. He shoots a quick wink in Geralt’s direction and the senior’s heart stops rather suddenly in his chest. 
Jaskier is waiting for him to answer. To give him the affirmative. To reassure him that his declaration has been met with with agreement. 
Geralt nods subtly and watches the pop star’s beautiful, bright blue eyes light up with joy. “Alright!”
The beat picks up quickly and Dandelion is lost to the music. After every few words he glances surreptitiously in Geralt’s direction and the white-haired high schooler realizes rather suddenly how exciting this really is. A fucking millionaire pop star is masquerading as a regular kid at his high school. The kid he’s had a quiet crush on for quite some time. A kid that likes him back. Dandelion starts to sing and Geralt is jolted out of his thoughts by the pointed lyrics. 
“Smooth-talking. So rocking. He's got everything that a guy's wanting. Guitar cutie, He plays it groovy; And I can't keep myself from doing something stupid...”
---
When the show is over and Geralt is alone with Jaskier/Dandelion backstage, the younger boy steps forward and reaches out tentatively. Geralt takes his hand and twines their fingers together comfortably. Confidently. “So, would you perhaps be interested in being my boyfriend?”
“Which one of you?” Geralt teases.
“Both. You  might be in some tabloids. Gay celebrities are, unfortunately, still kind of a novelty. Especially young ones.”
“This isn’t fair,” Geralt whispers. 
“What’s not fair?” Jaskier replies, sounding panicked. Geralt pulls Jaskier and releases their clasped hands to embrace him tightly.  
“How am I supposed to impress you with a cool prom-posal if you ask me to homecoming like that?” he grumbles, “It’s not fair. I’m not a rich, hot pop star. At best you’re getting a public display of devotion and affection and at worst you’re getting dinner from McDonald’s.”
“You think I’m hot!?” Jaskier giggles, the rest of the context only slightly less important somehow. His fingers grip the front of Geralt’s shirt and the older boy barely resists the urge to shudder. He’s never really been this close to someone before and he really likes it. Especially since it’s Jaskier. Then the younger boy shocks him again by going off on a tangential monologue.“You’re insane if you think I’m the hot one in this potential relationship! You have the softest looking naturally white hair I’ve ever seen. Your shoulders are fucking beautiful and if you murdered me by suffocating me with your pecs then I would die a very happy guy.”
When Jaskier looks up into Geralt’s face he sees that the older boy is blushing furiously and desperately trying to avoid any kind of eye contact. His hand on Jaskier’s waist twitches anxiously. Aw, he’s shy! 
“I can’t wait for homecoming,” Geralt finally mutters. 
“I can’t wait for you to shut up and kiss me.”
“Really?”
Jaskier, the international pop star and millionaire, leans up onto the tips of his bedazzled converse and smiles. “Yeah. I would really like it if you kissed me.”
Geralt, the shy high school senior with an interest in photojournalism, presses their lips together slowly. Jaskier’s hand finds its way into Geralt’s hair and tangles there comfortably. Geralt’s hand squeezes against the younger man’s soft, slender hip. He lets himself feel a touch of velvet-soft skin here and there as Jaskier’s shirt rides up or moves along with them.
They stay wrapped up in each other like that until Dandelion’s manager knocks on the door. He calls through the door. “Well you’re going to have to sign some paperwork if you want to be his boyfriend for real.”
Jaskier bites his lip and looks at Geralt with nervous anticipation written across his face. 
Geralt smiles and pulls Jaskier close again. “Where’s the pen?”
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