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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Ninety Three

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

September 21st, 1996

Remy felt like he might vaguely get sick. His mother was nodding in satisfaction at the TV, but Remy couldn’t be more devastated. The Defense of Marriage Act had been passed. God, he hated Clinton right now. He was old enough to know he was gay, old enough to know what that meant for him.

Old enough to know that now, he couldn’t get married, even if he wanted to. And Mom was of the opinion that he shouldn’t even get that choice. Without ever knowing that she was doing that to her own son.

His stomach churned. He hated this. He hated this whole situation.

November 18th, 2003

Remy had been grouchy for the first two weeks that Emile’s parents were there, making sure that he wasn’t getting into the office without Emile’s permission. But Remy begrudgingly admitted that August was killing it at the shop, and the books were being kept well under Emile’s supervised gaze.

Dad’s phone rang, and Remy glanced over from where he had been fiddling with the magnets Emile had gotten him to “keep him entertained” during the period he couldn’t watch TV, and now he used when the headaches from screens got to be too much. “Hello?” Dad asked. Remy didn’t miss Dad bolting upright. “Hey, Barry.”

Remy’s eyes widened and he shouted, “Emile!” up the stairs. Barry was Dad’s friend in Massachusetts, who had been keeping an eye on the proceedings for same-sex marriage.

“Sure, I’ll put you on speaker,” Dad said, pushing the button and saying, “It’s just me and Remy in the room right now.”

“Well, Remy, you might want to get your future husband down there,” Barry said, his grin audible. “The decision came back, four to three. You and your fiancé can get married in one hundred eighty days.”

“Holy SHIT!” Remy exclaimed, shooting to his feet. His eyes were flooded with tears. “ Emile, you little shit, get down here!”

Emile tore down the stairs, gasping, “I was washing my hands!”

Remy ran over and kissed Emile, tears falling freely. “We’re getting married!” he exclaimed. “It went through! It went through, Emile!”

Emile whooped in disbelief, kissing Remy back. They were both tearful when Emile pulled away. “Barry, I think it’s safe to say you made these boys’ day,” Dad said with a beaming grin.

“No surprise there,” Barry laughed. “And I want pictures of them in their Sunday best when they say ‘I do’!”

“Done!” Dad declared.

As Emile cried and Remy laughed, the two of them hugged again, and Remy was filled with elation like no other moment. The only thing that could possibly compare...well, was the actual marriage itself. Or maybe having kids. Remy wasn’t sure about that second one.

They kept hugging as Dad continued to talk to Barry and Mom walked in, asking what the commotion was about. When she heard, she squealed and hugged Emile and Remy tight. Dad hung up the phone and joined the hug. Remy was practically sobbing through his laughter, and Emile was keeping him upright just as much as Remy was keeping Emile from collapsing to the floor. He couldn’t believe it. They were getting married! They were getting married! A hell of a lot of things just became way more real, but he could put that on the backburner for a few minutes. Right now, he just wanted to hug his fiancé and their parents.

When the moment passed, Remy and Emile staggered their way to the couch, and the realization of what this meant seemed to hit them both at roughly the same time, because as Remy uttered, “I’m gonna have to invite my parents,” Emile asked himself, “How do I tell Grandpa?”

The two of them looked at each other in shock, before coming to a quick agreement. “Let’s figure that out when we figure out the wedding date,” Emile said.

“Yeah,” Remy agreed. “Summer sounds nice. Summer wedding?”

“Outside reception, shoving cake in each other’s mouths for an hour or two, and dancing until the sun’s long set? Sounds fun,” Emile said. “After graduation, too. Less worrying about finals and more worrying about grad school admissions.”

Remy laughed. “If we wait until August then there’s no worrying about anything for school from you.”

“True,” Emile said with a nod. “So. August?”

“August,” Remy agreed. “What day?”

“Throw a dart board at the calendar?” Emile proposed.

“Meh. Should we plan it on a weekend?” Remy offered.

“To allow everyone to travel up there, probably. I want it in a church, if that’s okay.”

“Fine by me. Just means a Saturday, then. Uh...” Remy stood, walking over to a shelf where their calendar sat. “Fourteenth sound good?”

“Yeah, sure,” Emile said.

They both froze for a moment, before again asking, “How do we tell them?” at the exact same time.

“That was... the most ‘you two’ planning of a wedding I have ever seen,” Dad said, shaking his head fondly. “No arguing, just plain pragmatism and figuring out how to get the most bang for your buck.”

Mom laughed. “I’m afraid you both will have to tell your respective family members, whether you want to or not. Perhaps you should just...send the invitations out?”

Emile grimaced, but Remy shrugged. “You know what? My people aren’t owed an explanation. That’ll work.”

“I think I want to talk to Grandpa about it before sending off the invitation,” Emile said. “Or...well. He won’t accept my call, but...Mom? Could you warn him?”

Mom nodded with a sad smile. “I’ll let him know he’ll be getting a letter from you and Remy, and tell him it’s better to open it before throwing it away. I’m afraid that’s the best I can do right now.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Emile said with a nod.

Remy felt his grip tighten on the bookshelf as he thought about his parents. True, they didn’t exactly deserve a warning, not after the way they treated him, but he was still worried. He didn’t know how they would react. How they would respond to him marrying another man. He had to make his peace with that. And fast. Because he knew that if he sent out the invite, his parents would start asking questions. Did they deserve an explanation? No. Were they going to demand one anyway? Oh, hell yes. And there would be hell to pay if Remy didn’t give it to them.

Despite that, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t give them an explanation. There wasn’t one. He was just...like this. That was enough for him. Couldn’t it be enough for them, too?

The niggling voice in the back of his head made him doubt it, but he forced himself to not think about that. If they didn’t accept him, then they didn’t accept him. That was a problem for another day, when he wasn’t about to pass out just from seeing his fiancé’s dorky smile as Dad cracked a joke about marriage.

Mom came over to him and he forced his grip on the bookshelf to go lax. “You know we’ll always love you dear, no matter what.”

“Yeah, I know,” Remy said with a smile.

Mom frowned. “Most days, that’s enough. Is it not today?”

“I...” Remy stopped. He didn’t want to lie to Mom. He shook his head.

“That’s okay,” Mom said, patting him on the shoulder. “Today is a lot for you. And hopefully, one day, you’ll get what you need from them.”

“I doubt it,” Remy sighed.

Mom smiled softly, eyes betraying her empathic sorrow. “One can dream, can’t they? I won’t take that dream away from you.”

“That’s the problem with dreams, though,” Remy said, shaking his head slightly. “One day, you have to wake up.”

Mom kissed his cheek. “And sometimes, that dream becomes reality.”

“What are the odds of that?” Remy asked, voice growing thick.

Mom tutted and pulled him in for a hug, which he gratefully accepted. Emile walked over with a dorky grin on his face. “Rem, wanna go to the Hallmark store and get ideas for the invitations to send out?”

“Are you sure the fumes won’t mess with my concussion?” Remy teased lightly, sniffling only a bit.

“It’s been about three weeks, I think you’ll live,” Emile said with an eye-roll. “I think the sooner we send out invitations the better, don’t you?”

“For the most part,” Remy agreed. “There are some people...well, I’d rather wait. But it’s probably better to just rip the band-aid off.”

“True test of your parents’ will, doing this,” Emile said. “And, for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you for deciding to be with whoever you want to be, and be whoever you want to be, despite their wishes.”

Remy smiled. “Thanks,” he said. That did make him feel a little bit better.

“Mom, Dad, do you want to come along? Or do you want some alone time?” Emile asked.

“We’ll stay here, sweetheart. We need to get packing soon, after all. Thanksgiving’s coming up and we’re still having it at ours,” Mom said.

Emile shrugged. “Okay, suit yourself.”

“Try not to break the bed,” Remy snickered.

Mom whacked him lightly with a grin. “Don’t worry, if we do, we’ll pay for the frame and the mattress.”

Dad rolled his eyes and ruffled Remy’s hair. “Your mother might. I make no promises.”

Emile gagged. “Great. Gross. Can we go now, Rem?”

Remy wore a shit-eating grin as they walked out of the house and Remy snatched the keys from Emile, sliding into the car’s driver seat. “You’re going to give yourself a headache before even entering the Hallmark store?” Emile asked him.

“Oh, like you’re so much better,” Remy scoffed.

Emile rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I can drive back if it gets to be too much.”

Remy nodded and idly said, “You know, at some point, we’re gonna need two cars.”

“I figure whenever we do I’ll pay Mom and Dad for their old junker and we can work up from there if we need to,” Emile said, scratching his jaw.

“Work up? As in, get a bigger car?” Remy asked. “Why would we ever need a minivan? Or a regular van?”

“You’re so eager to joke about my sperm donor kids, Rem,” Emile pointed out, before clarifying, “I meant getting a nicer car, though. Not a bigger car.”

“Oh, gotcha,” Remy said with a nod. “That makes more sense.”

“Almost like that was my point in the first place,” Emile teased.

Remy stuck his tongue out at Emile.

When they got to the store, they immediately made a beeline to the cards and the invitations in particular. They generally agreed that they didn’t want something necessarily covered in glitter, if only so their friends didn’t hate them and tease them mercilessly on their wedding day. Remy liked the ones with muted colors and Emile liked the florals, and together the two of them came up with a game plan for what they’d do when they made the custom invitations.

They left the store just as Remy was starting to feel a throbbing between his eyes. “God, those fumes are strong,” he laughed.

“Yeah,” Emile chuckled. “But you lasted longer than I thought you would. You’re recovering from the concussion nicely.”

“Glad to hear it,” Remy groaned, pinching his nose bridge. “I need a break. I need a nap. I need something that is non-stressful, non-wedding related, and not going to make me regret my life choices later.”

Emile gave Remy a look Remy wasn’t sure how to interpret. “You think you’d be up for some exercise?” he asked.

Remy tilted his head to the side. “I hate exercise, Emile,” he said flatly.

“No, no, not that kind of exercise. The other kind. The kind I banned you from immediately after your concussion.”

“Oh.” Remy frowned, trying to connect the dots. Everything came together with startling clarity ten seconds later. “Oh. With your parents in the house?!”

“Well. We can send them out for milk,” Emile said with a flirty grin.

“Oh my God, Emile,” Remy laughed. “You know what? If it works? Sure. If not, you’re going to be the one answering to them.”

“Relax, Rem. We’re engaged. We’re going to get married soon. I doubt a little bit of extracurricular activity will have either of my parents clutching at their pearls.”

“I hope not,” Remy laughed. “Because that would certainly be something I would not be looking forward to. A lecture from your parents on proper bedside manners? No, thank you.”

“Yeah. Worst came to worst, the conversation would be, ‘You boys using a condom?’ ‘Yes?’ ‘Carry on, then,’” Emile said with a little laugh. “And I should know, because I brought my boyfriend home after prom night.”

Remy choked. “Wait. You what?!”

Emile just laughed.

“I’m going to need an explanation, Emile!”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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bonappetizzle · 4 years

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Dreams, Fairytale, Fantasy

A/N: Back again. Not sure how I feel on this one, but yeah.

Pairing: Harry Styles x Black!Female Reader

Summary: Wedding day blues

Word count: 1973

You weren’t supposed to be here.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but here you are, hours from impending heartbreak.

What does it matter anymore? You can’t change a thing.

You take a deep breath, knocking on the door, putting on the performance of a lifetime.

His best man smiles opening the door for you, inviting you into the grooms room.

“H, got someone to see you.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them slightly as a warning. He’d convinced you it was the right thing to do. Who were you to ruin his day with this? I mean, you’d had so many opportunities to have told him before. But you didn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to materialise the worlds.

You see him in the mirror, his brows knitted together, in frustration.

“Well can they help me with this stupid tie-“ he looks up, smiling at your reflection behind him. “Y/N!” He opens his arms to hug you. You Huh him back, careful of getting any makeup on his shirt.

“Hey, ready for your big day?” You ask, looking at him as he pulls out of the hug.

“M’nervous as hell,” he chuckles lightly. “And can’t get this tie right.” You shake your head, rolling your eyes at him. “Come here.” You lay your palm flat for him to give you the tie.

“I’m gonna get a bottle of brown, be back in a second.” Tom, his best man announces, leaving the two of you alone.

“Where’s the rest of your posse?” You clear your throat, wrapping the fabric around his neck.

“Probably trying to flirt with Lucy’s bridesmaids. Like they won’t have the time at the reception.” He scoffs. You crack a smile, pulling his tie together. “All done.” He smiles, turning to check himself in the mirror before hugging you again. “Thank you. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” He whispers in your ear.

“It’s fine H, your my best friend, that’s what I do.” He shakes his head, looking over you.

“Y’look pretty.” You raise an eyebrow, before knitting them together.

“Don’t I always?” You Joke. He shakes his head.

“Of course, you do, but I mean it, you look really pretty today. Dunno what it is, but you look different.” He brushes a stray curl from your face. You press your lips together, before the door opens, signalling Tom’s return. “Bourbon anyone?” He shimmy’s, making the two of you laugh.

“Me! I need a drink.” You take a glass from his hand, as he puts the others down, unscrewing the bottle for you. “You don’t usually drink brown liquor.” Harry comments.

“What do you mean? Y/N drinks brown all the time.” Tom looks at him confused, finishing pouring for you.

“I’ve never seen you drink brown asides from that one time in college after your dad-” he cuts himself short. Yeah, after your dad left. You roll your eyes, at the thought.

“I’ve been giving it a go again for a while. Brown can’t be a negative connotation forever H, and besides, who am I to turn down free booze. It’s fine.” You ruffle his head, taking a sip from your glass, internally grimacing from the burn. “If you say so.” He takes a glass. Tom pours him a shot, warning him against being drunk during the service. “I’m not a lightweight, I’m not gonna get drunk off of glass.”

“Have you eaten yet?” You ask, taking another sip.

“Are you my mum?” He groans.

You take the cup from him, rolling your eyes. You turn to Tom, handing him both cups. “Don’t let him drink till I get him something to eat.” You almost threaten, wiping your hands together, leaving them in his room. You lean against the wall besides the room, taking a deep breath, shaking your head.

C’mon Y/N. Only a couple more hours, then you can go home and forget all about it.

You push yourself up, walking down the stairs.

“Looking for someone?” Gemma asks. You clutch your chest, glaring at her before letting out a laugh.

“Please don’t sneak up on me.” She chuckles, shaking her head.

“S’fun. You and Harry are jumpy. He up in his room?” You nod, relaxing. “Then who ate you looking for with that face?”

“What face?”

“You looked really serious. I assumed to yell at some castaway grooms, which, might I tell you. I’ve already yelled at.” You smile, grateful for her.

“No, but that makes it a lot easier. I was looking for something to eat.”

“Ah, hungry?” You shake your head, while she looks at you confused.

“Tom brought up from booze, Harry hasn’t eaten. Said I’d go find him something.” She nods, leaning her arm out for you to link. “Catering is in the church reception, cmon.”

“What took you so long?” Harry asks; taking a bite of a cinnamon bun.

“Wow, thank you best friend for going out of your way to make sure I don’t pass out by the alter.”

“I wouldn’t have passed out.” He says, still chewing. You scrunch your nose, shaking your head.

“Don’t be gross.”

“Sorry,” he says, after swallowing.

“Where’s the other guys?” You ask.

“Taking pictures. Which, you are needed for.” You look at him confused. You weren’t technically part of his wedding party. “What do you mean?”

“You’re my best friend, I have to have at least one picture of you to prove you were here.” He downs the bourbon shot. “See I didn’t drink it before you came back.” You shake your head. “Mum said she wants one of us too, since your mum couldn’t make it.” He pauses, “How is she by the way?” He takes another bite of the pastry. “She’s… she’s doing okay. Doctors say she’s recovering well. She practically forced me out, I know she’s okay but, can’t help but worry.” He presses his lips together, a hopeful look on his face.

“Well, they said she’s doing fine. Can’t be stressed out on my day, I mean you orchestrated this whole thing.”

“I orchestrated it?” He nods, slipping on his jacket.

“I mean, you set me up with Luce, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you. You’re really are an angel.” He jokes. You fake a laugh, making sure it’s believable. “Firstly, don’t use the word orchestrated. Makes it feel like I did something evil. And two, if you weren’t compatible it wouldn’t have worked out. I’m glad you found someone. Even if I did most of the work.” You tease him.

“You’re the best.” He smiles down at you, before a snap, interrupts the two of you.

“I told you to turn your sound off.”

“I thought it was,” you turn, seeing a photographer, along with Gemma and Anne.

“Hi,” you greet them.

“You look so pretty Y/N,” Anne compliments you, walking over for a hug.

“I mean, nothing compared to you.” You reply, looking at the older beauty.

“Come off it Y/N, I’m getting old.” You shake your head.

“Still the best looking in the room, no offence Gem.”

“S’fine. Now c’mon I want a family picture with the idiot.” She walks over; standing beside her brother. “Hey!” Harry whines. You move away from Anne’s grip, before she pulls you back. “Your family too Y/N,” she tells you firmly. Wrapping an arm around your waist.

You watch as Harry and a few of his extended wedding party take pictures.

“Can’t believe he’s marrying her.” You turn, seeing Niall, one of his Uni mates holding out a shot for you.

“Huh?” You take it.

“I dunno, just never expected them to be this serious.” He downs it, you following after.

“They’re great for each other.”

“Yeah? How would you know. You’ve been MIA for the past year.” He pours himself another drink.

“My mum’s been ill Niall.” He sighs, taking the shot in his hand.

“Sorry. I heard, but I thought she was better.”

“She is now, that’s what the doctors are saying.” He nods, before sighing again.

“If I’m honest. I thought it would be you and him getting married eventually. One of you realising you’re in love with the other, the other realising it too. That cheesy romcom shit.” You let out a laugh. Shaking your head.

“Sorry Ni, life isn’t a romcom.”

“She’s like a parasite. I can’t believe he can’t see it. I said I’d be one of his groomsmen cause I’m his mate and all, but if we’re honest. I can’t stand the girl. She was nice at first but he’s totally different with her.”

“How much have you had to drink?” You knit your brows together.

“Not enough. I’m Irish remember.” You both chuckle. “How much do you wanna bet for me to interrupt it?”

“You’re not gonna do that Niall.”

“C’mon. We’d both be saving him a lot of money.” You shake your head, looking him in the eyes.

“It’s not going to happen Niall, just let it be.”

“Let what be?” You turn, Harry stands behind you, a confused look on his face.

“I asked her out, she said it’ll make the friendship weird if we broke up.” Niall flawlessly lies.

“You two together?” Harry looks at the two of your strangely.

“Yeah, been trying to get a date out of his one for ages. M’not giving up.” He stands up, placing his hand around your waist. Harry shakes his head. “You’re joking right?”

“No?” He knits his brows together in confusion.

“Oh-Kay.” He lets out, before the event planner comes up to us.

“People are entering the church. You two are needed in 10. Guests preferably before that.” She says before storming off. You brush off her attitude, putting down your shot glass.

“That’s my queue. Good luck up there.” You out on a smile, before leaving the two of them.

“Wait.” Harry stops you. You turn around, finally seeing nervousness on his face.

“What’s up?” He looks around you before landing on your face.

“I’m doing the right thing… right?” You swallow. Bite the bullet.

“If it’s what you want, it’s the right thing.” You speak before you can allow the words to settle on your tongue. It’s what’s right. He’s got this far. He should marry her.

“Really?” He holds your hand in his. They’re slightly sweaty but you ignore it. You feel your throat tighten, as well as your heart. Just pretend. You’ve gotten this far.

“It’s your life Harry. I’m not going to decide for you. You know what to do. Whatever it is, I’ll be happy for you.” You feel your eyes start to water, as you let go of his hands.

“Thanks y/n,” he says, clearing his throat.

You take your seat, biting your lip. Each passing minute taking a chip at your heart.

The look on his face as he stands at the alter, an excited smile pointed at you, one of pride and joy.

The look on his face when her bridesmaids walk in, nervousness.

The look on his face when she finally makes an appearance. Pure love and adoration.

You blink away the water threatening to spill from your eyes. You zone out, your body overwhelmed with the sinking feeling of regret. You bite your lip as he reads out his vows, passion in his eyes as he recites the words to her. Chanting like a mantra. Your eyes meet Tom’s, before looking away.

You had soo many chances to tell him and you ran away like a coward.

This is your cosmic punishment.

You barely register the couple’s first kiss as a vibration from your voice takes you away from the moment.

You had 4 missed calls from your brother, and 3 texts.

The last causing your heart to sink.

‘Y/N please… answer.’ 1 hour ago

‘She’s relapsing.’ 45 minutes ago

‘… she’s gone.’ 2 minutes ago

#harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #Harry Styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x black!reader #harry styles x black reader #harry styles x black female reader #harry styles x poc #Harry x black female reader #Harry x black!female reader #harry styles x black woman #Harry x black!female #Harry x black woman #Harry x black female

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enigma-im · 4 years

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Free Bird

Rating: Mature Relationship: Aarakocra X Female!Human Warning: Vulgar, minor abuse, backhand a woman, fluff, confrontation, friendly banter, bird and human relationship, established relationship

Word count: 2889

Sometimes parents don’t like the person their child is dating. in this case it’s a little bit more than distaste

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I try to snort back the blood dripping from my nose. It does nothing to help so Instead I wipe it away with my sleeve, no doubt leaving a gross trail on my face. I walk through the hallways, fist clenched, and shoulders tense. I try to make it to my room quickly without bumping into anyone. I know if anyone saw me like this it would get back to the prince. I didn’t want to explain to him how it happened, giving him ammo for any argument we have in the future.

I spot my door ahead and rush towards it. I grab the annoyingly bright handle and quickly get inside. I close the door behind myself and sigh. Now to go to the bathroom and get clean.

As I step further into the room I see my boyfriend sitting by the window at his desk. I freeze when I notice him. His back is to me so I assume I still have a chance to get into the bathroom unseen.

I don’t get what I want.

He glances over his shoulder at me before turning fully around. He looks me over then cocks a brow at my face.

"See a picture of me in the hall and got some adult thoughts," he smirks.

I glare at him as I walk towards the bathroom," No, I saw a picture of your cousin and figured I picked the wrong prince."

"Like Dearth could handle you," he scoffs," he can't stand the sight of blood anyway, faints like a child. Even does the hand to head and fall into someone's arms bit. Such a dramatic man." I smile to myself at his joke, imagining the dainty man falling into someone's waiting arms. I turn into the bathroom, still annoyed that he saw but appreciative that he made a joke against someone else for a change. I make it to the sink, turning it on and wetting a rag. As I wipe the blood from my face I see him enter the bathroom from my view in the mirror.

"What happened anyway, not every day I see you bleeding outside of bedroom stuff," he walks to the counter and rests his back to it. He watches as I scrub the smeared blood off my cheek and chin.

"I realized I chose to be with you and bashed my face into a wall to try to knock some sense into me," I tease.

"Hey, you had a choice. With sound mind and body if I recall. Though it wouldn’t hurt to get us a professional to look us both over. One of us is bound to be insane, my bets are on you," he pretends to ponder the thought. I bite my cheek to stop from laughing, not wanting to end the game yet.

I manage to get the blood off my face and switch to throw away papers to blow the rest out of my nose. He watches, crossing his arms as he regards me.

"Honestly, what happened," he asks. I finally turn and look at him. Seeing he is all serious.

"Honestly," I ask. He nods," before I do, you aren't allowed to tease me later for it. This will not be part of our game, understand?"

He chuckles before answering," Well now I'm very interested. Did you lose a fight with a door?"

I roll my eyes," Har-Har funny as always. No, I got into a disagreement with your father. You know how opinionated he is about me, about us."

"I'm aware," he answers tense. I ignore him, knowing to mention his dad is always a sore subject.

"Anyway, today got more heated and I underestimated the old fart. He backhanded me before I could react. I still got him in the leg, knocked him on his ass before he could spit out some insults. Still you would think those feathers of yours would be like being slapped by a pillow more than a bony hand," I glance over at Artimus, hoping he got a laugh out of that. He was anything but happy about the news.

"He hit you," he shouts as he steps away from the counter. He turns to me and crowds me against the sink.

"Yea, it's fine. Man hits like, well, how id imagine your cousin would hit," I try to joke. He still isn't having it. He grabs my chin and looks over my face. Looking for bruising or scratches I assume. I know I will have one over the bridge of my nose, where his knuckles popped me. Still, as I said, the man can't hit for shit.

"This is anything but fine, he should have never laid a hand on you," he growls. He snatches the rag from my hand and goes to cleaning my face. Scratching off dried blood near the corner of my nose, on my lip, near my ear. "He can hate you all he wants but this is too far," he says in the most serious tone I've ever heard from him. I stare up at his clenched jaw, noticing him grinding his beak. I've never seen him so angry.

Once he is satisfied with his care he throws the rag down into the sink. Then he turns and charges out the room. Confused, I rush after him. I just see him march out the bedroom door and into the hallway.

"Hey," I shout. I jog after him, catching up to his angry walk quickly. "Where are you going," I ask him as I try to grab his arm. He jerks himself out of my weak hold and continues forward.

"I'm going to talk to my father," he growls. His brow furrows more and a sneer poisons his face.

"What, why? Seriously, you don’t have to do this. I can fight my own battles," I step in front of him, pressing my hands to his chest. He grabs my hands and pushes them aside before walking past me. "Damn it Artimus," I snarl as I chase after him again.

He makes it to the main office before I can stop him. Without pausing he slams the double doors open. Marching into the room with clenched fists. I turn into the room just in time to see him grabbing his father by the feathers. He pins the man to the wall and seethes near his face.

"Don’t you ever fucking touch her again or so help me I will kill you," he screams at his father. The man holds his son's hands near his neck with a tight grip. He quickly rips Artimus' hands from his collar, pushing him away. He smooths his feathers and adjusts his clothes before glaring at his son.

"You do not talk to me that way young man. You may tolerate such disrespect from her but I will not allow it from you," His father growls out.

"You do not touch her, do you understand me? I don’t care what your feelings are for our relationship, you will show restraint," Artimus gets back into his father's face. I walk around the desk and stand a good distance away from the two.

"Excuse me for not enjoying the idea of my son sullying himself with a human. Sleeping with some degenerate as well as that, some peasant whose novelty will surely wear thin," his father spits out. I don’t take his words to heart, not really caring about the man's feelings for me.

I just barely react in time for when Artimus lunges at his father. I bolt over and step between the two. I press my hands to Artimus' chest, stopping his forward momentum. He tries to grab me and push me aside but I wrap my arms around his waist. He attempts to slide me around him but I stop at his side.

"You know nothing about us, do not pretend you do," Artimus shouts at his father.

"I understand you use her to get back at me. Flaunt this insufferable child around like a beacon for people to see my lack of control over you," his father snarls back. I hold tight when Arti tries to lunge again.

I understand his father's words, even recognize them as my own fears. I'm not exactly top tier picking for someone such as Artimus. I'm everything a royal shouldn’t be; loud, impolite, human, and vulgar. So trying to wrap my head around Arti being interested in me is boggling. Still, I enjoy his company despite our differences. I will take this time as short as it will be. I figure I'm not a lasting thing, I'm just a passing fetish. I'm fine with that. At least I think I am, it will still hurt when he tosses me aside for some royal to wed.

"Again, you understand nothing," Arti keeps trying to lunge. Trying to break from my hold.

"Then explain it to me. Why do you spend your time with this lesser when you can have anyone you want? Then to touch on your relationship, you two bicker worse than an unhappy married couple forced together by a diplomatic union. I can't imagine you are even happy with her," his father says. He pretty much lays it out, sure he is missing some stuff like our late nights. We are kind to each other, teasing the other in friendly banter. The sex is great, the aftercare is soothing. Still, we debate like crazy.

"She gives me something you others don’t, honesty. She is refreshing to this hosh posh lifestyle that I loathe. Then at night when we are alone is my favorite time. Holding her as we both go to sleep is calming. Talking to her beneath the sheets is like living in our own little world," Arti relaxes in my hold and looks down at me," She is my world because I love her. Our arguing is but conversations only we understand. Her vulgar personality is like looking at the world with new eyes. Her softness that rivals our own, her humanness is all the more appealing. I know others don’t see it but I know this diamond in the rough. The most beautiful gem." I don’t notice when I stop breathing. I don’t remember when he wrapped his arms around me. I can't recall much of anything besides his words. The thoughts running through my head pause, holding onto his rant with purpose.

"What," I find myself gasping like an idiot," you love me?"

"Of course, my precious spit-fire. How could I not," he tilts his head with a grin.

"I-I," I stutter, not used to this much feeling. "I thought I was going to be just a phase, a chapter in your life." he drops his smile and regards me concerned. He lifts his hand and cups my jaw.

"You could never be just a passing fad, I promised you I wouldn’t make you just another notch in my bedpost. Did you not believe me," he asks. I take a second to collect my thoughts, still really not believing him.

"Yes- no. I figured I'd just be a really big notch," I answer.

"Then why did you agree to be with me," he furrows his brow. He almost looks pained at my answer, it pulls at my heart.

"Not every day you can bag a prince," I try to joke. Stomping down the emotions rising to the surface. He doesn’t find it humorous, scolding me.

"Be honest," he chides.

I sigh," I wanted to take what I can get. If it is a couple months or weeks, I just wanted to be here."

"So you only want me because of my status," he drops his hand from my face. It feels like a stab in the chest, worse when I look at his betrayed face.

I quickly snatch his hand," No, never! I would never do you like that, I wanted to be with you. You know I don’t care about this lifestyle, I'd be content living in the middle of the woods. I've told you that was my plan before I met you. I never needed or wanted to be part of the higher class. I'm here because I want to be around you," he stares down at me, looking between both my eyes as he thinks. He drops the hard look with a sigh. Going back to cupping my face before resting his head against mine. I look up at him awaiting his next action or words. Sitting on the precipice of stress and panic. I watch as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Do you love me," he squeezes his eyes tighter. My brain doesn’t even let me think about it. I know all those shared nights after some rather feverous sex are treasured in my mind. Sometimes I stay up just to watch him, pecking him on the face before snuggling back in his arms. I know what I feel for him, clear as ever.

"Yes, I love you," I huff with a smile. Feeling my eye water as I finally say the words that sat buried in my heart for the longest time. He chokes on a laugh as he smiles. Opening his beautiful blue eyes to me.

"Then that’s all I need, never stop being yourself or loving me and we will be just fine," he nuzzles my cheek," Keep being the disgusting troll I know you can be."

I roll my eyes," And you keep being the pompous snob with more money than sense."

"With the undeserved large cock," he raises a brow. I hit his chest as he laughs.

"As long as you never disappoint," I lean down and bite his neck. Kissing it soon after.

"You know first hand I won't," he rubs his beak to my head. I pull him close and pepper his jaw and cheek with kisses. He chuckles as he pets down my back, reaching for my ass.

A throat clears making my eyes snap open.

"Please refrain from spreading your 'love' around my office," Artimus' father calls from behind me. I quickly let go of Arti and turn to face his father. Before I could step away he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close to his chest. Resting his chin on my head.

"Do you understand now that my love will not be disrespected in this house," Arti growls at his father.

His father regards us both with a bored expression," I still do not approve of your relationship, it is a burning ship in the middle of the ocean. It cannot be saved and it's doomed to sink. Still, I will respect your choices and refrain from striking her as long as she agrees to stay in line with visitors. I can only tolerate so much," His father glares down at me. I sneer back at the crooked old man.

"Hit me again and I'll do more than have you on your ass. Expect an equal payment next time for the bruised nose," I snap.

"Again with that foul mouth, your mother should have beaten you harder," the trashy man growls.

"And yours should have loved you more, maybe you wouldn’t be such an insufferable tyrant," I shout back.

"Alright, we are getting off track. Father you ever even think about striking her again, I will have your head before any rebels can. She will agree to put on a kind face for visitors on the account that you two barely interact with each other, deal?" Arti cups his hand over my lips before I can snap up at him for putting words in my mouth. I lick at his hand but he just wipes the spit across my face before covering my mouth again. I wince at the saliva on my cheek and the feather stuck on my tongue.

His father watches us with a barely contained smirk," Deal. Now leave my office." The man turns away from us and walks over to his chair by the hearth.

Without a word Arti drags me out of the office and into the hallway. We stop a bit of way away where he pushes me against the wall.

"I don’t want you ever for a second doubting my words, do you understand," he rests his forearms on either side of my head. Our noses just barely touching as he stares down at me.

"No promises, you tend to say a lot of bullshit," I smirk up at him.

"Nothing I say regarding my feelings for you are bullshit, my love," he traces his beak over my nose," you stubborn dragon." I reach up and grab his collar, pulling the fabric in a tight grip.

"You are an ignorant twat who has my heart in his hands. You threatened your father for me, therefore, I demand you take me to our room and make rough nasty love to me," I kiss the corner of his mouth," I'll even let you be on top this time." He growls, his chest rumbling against my own.

"As you wish," he grins. I pull him down by the shirt and kiss him. He grabs my thighs and lifts me. I hug my legs to his sides as he whisks me off to our room.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Anyone notice the name of lover boy is the drummer from Lynyrd skynyrd? not the one who did free bird but we ignore that bit cause i will not name him something like ‘Gary’. i already have too many generic names for characters, like Ben or Daniel.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

#aarakocra #monster lover #monster boyfriend #bird monster #fluff #Enigma-IM #exophilia #Artimus x human #artimus #free bird

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cubeswhump · 4 years

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Defy Fate; Reanimate, part 1: The Pieces of Osiris

Gonna make it clear that I got “Defy fate / Reanimate” from this song. This story takes inspiration from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein but I kinda took the barest base of it and ran wild.

For much of my childhood, I was dead set on being a forensic pathologist. Then I got autistic burnout which turned into a nervous breakdown and had to reevaluate my life plan. I still have a huuuuuge love for forensics/pathology and I finally put it to use. A bit too much use. You’re gonna learn about rates of decay today.

Note: Part 2 is already written and will be posted tomorrow or the day after.

Tagging @more-miserables and @brutal-nemesis

Warning for gore, self-harm (not done from depression or misery), terminal illness, whump of a minor (via flashback), death (death is a whole ass focal point of this story so be warned), drugging, creepy whumper (like super creepy), consensual mildly-NSFW stuff that doesn't go anywhere, semi-professional surgery, dismemberment, disembowelment, general grossness.

Dearil was a constant; Lorelai barely remembered life without him. He showed up in first grade an awkward little boy who didn't speak a word of English and she was the happy helper with dozens of gold stars who took him under her wing. But they grew up and he learned English and gained confidence while Lorelai retreated into her shell.

Dearil seemed the type of kid who would be bullied relentlessly: openly gay, overweight, embraced his feminine side with pinks and purples and earrings, grew his hair longer than any boy at school, could tell you every plot point of Bleach and Naruto but couldn't follow a conversation, did these things with his hands that were later identified as stimming. However, he never held his tongue and had this air of confidence that even the mean kids respected. It was quiet, studious Lorelai they picked on, but no one dared bother her when big Dearil stood next to her. When chemotherapy made him lose his hair when they were sixteen, some classmates even shaved their heads to show support.

They stayed close even Dearil repeated eleventh grade because health complications made him miss so much school. They stayed nest best friends even when Lorelai graduated six months early, when he took a gap year, when Lorelai got into medical school. Even when the dreaded Boyfriebds stuck their feet in.

The two shared an apartment while Dearil worked on a degree in business and Lorelai was kept busy as an assistant in a morgue and full-time student. They had big dreams, but Dearil's were much more feasible: he planned to open a bakery that exclusively hired neurodivergent teens and young adults. Lorelai's plans?

"They only don't want to mix magic and medicine becahse the pharmaceutical companies will lose money!" she growled, glaring daggers at the emailed rejection of her thesis.

"People fear what they don't understand. I mean, science can't explain it and it's pretty fucking crazy," Dearil replied, shrugging. "If I had to explain it, I'd say it's kinda like equivalent exchange in Fullmetal Alchemist, right? I don't really get how it works. But you're smart. You're strong-willed. You'll do great."

She didn't get his anime comparisons, but she could get lost in the sould of his voice. If she could bottle it she would drink nothing else for the rest of her life.

Then another Boyfriend came along and she heard that voice less and less. She hated everything about Frankie: the way he zipped around on that noisy motorcycle (and how dare he wear the only helmet while Dearil rode around unprotected), his spikey hair, his smug smile, his grating laughter, his leathee jackets, his lips on Dearil's.

She refrained from hexing him. She wasn't a bad person who would use witchcraft to cause harm. Her acts were subtle and harmless: placing red rose petals in Dearil's pockets and shoes and placing petunia petals in Frankie's.

"I don't know what the flowers mean but I'm guessing it's some passive-aggressive bullshit," Dearil huffed. "Cut it out."

He got a bit angrier when she tried to cut off a chunk of Frankie's stiff hair. It was just for a bad luck charm, nothing lethal, but she pled the fifth on that one.

"You're like a sister to me," Dearil reminded her that day after Frankieeft. He meant well, but she wanted to scream and cry and break things. But she forced herself to smile.

There was a thought that haunted her every day. She would be the maid of honor, perhaps wearing teal if Dearil's current hair color was anything to go by. She would have to give a speech and congratulate the grooms. Watch them kiss. It should be her under that altar! She should be wearing a white gown and veil!

She resigned to life as a lonely spinster. She'd be married to her job.

That was the worst thing she imagined happening, until life hit her like a truck... and the delivery was a truck.

Dearil was so late getting home again. Any minute now he'd call and tell her he was spending the night with Frankie. And sure enough her smartphone rang, but it wasn't Dearil.

"What's up, Kensia?" she asked, but the only response from Dearil's younger sister was sobbing. Instant dread. "Kensia? Come on, use words. I'm not a mind reader."

So Kensia spoke, and Lorelai would have preferred she didn't. She didn't remember getting off the phone. She didn't remember much of that night at all, but she couldn't forget all of it.

***

She almost didn't go to the funeral. She didn't want to wake up ever again. She thought about joining Dearil. But she got out of his bed, staggered to her bedroom, and searched her closet for appropriate attire.

The black dress was old and wouldn't cover the runes carved into her arms, but what did it matter if someone got uncomfortable? Fuck everyone else. The dress was tight in her waist and she bitterly realized that it would fit soon enough now that Dearil wouldn't be baking sugary treats all the time.

His mother came to greet her dressed in all white. The whole Jean-Pierre family wore white, even Dearil's dad whose wardrobe consisted of grey suits and plain ties. Catheline wrapped her up in a bone-crushing hug and Lorelai wanted to push her away and shout, "I'm not here for you!"

A cheap pine coffin for someone so great. What a disgrace. It was closed too. A closed-casket funeral was the most logical solution but it hirt Lorelai to know she wouldn't see his beautiful face ever again. That beautiful face was pulverized. Even Frankie, who was wearing a helmet, was killed so Dearil didn't stand a chance. He was killed on impact, painlessly.

Painless for who? It hurt so, so much.

She could scarcely hear the spoken eulogies over her own sobs, and declined to give one herself. Dearil's own mother wound up consoling Lorelai throughout the ceremony, rocking the young woman in her arms like a child. No words were shared until the end when Catheline walked Lorelai to her car.

"Traditionally in Haiti, we gather to mourn for nine days. It's a social gathering where we eat and drink and talk, nothing stiff and formal," Catheline explained through her own tears, smoothing Lorelai's messy ponytail. "You're part of the family, cheri. We want you to join us."

Like she wanted to waste her time at some social event. The only thing she wanted to do was lie in Dearil's bed and smell him on his pillow. But she couldn't shut Catheline down like that.

"Why nine days?" she asked.

"That's how long the soul takes to leave the body - that's what we Vodouists believe. We gather for nine days to assire the soul ascends safely and doesn't get stolen away by any petro loas. Evil spirits."

A pause. Lorelai got an odd look on her face. "Was he embalmed? Were his organs donated?"

Disgust flashed across Catheline's face for just a second. She took a deep breath. "We believe that harm dealt to the body after death harms the soul, so we don't usually embalm or donate organs. Dearil did want to donate his organs, you know what he's like, so we respected his wishes. He wasn't embalmed. Why do you ask?"

The question had a bit of an edge. She sniffed and dabbed her eyes.

Lorelai wasn't crying anymore, though her eyes were rimmed with red. "Catheline... If his soul is still on earth, could his body be saved?"

Catheline frowned. "What are you..." Her face contorted with horror. "No! I have nothing against you doing witchcraft, but this is where I put my foot down. Interfering with the soul? My son's soul? Imagine the pain he'd be in! How could you even think of that?"

Lorelai looked away from her. "I'm sorry... I'm just really... I'm not thinking. I wasn't thinking. I wouldn't do anything to harm her."

Cathine took her hands. "Look me in the eye. Promise me, Lorelai. Promise me you won't tamper with anything you shouldn't."

Lorelai sighed, looking into those honest brown eyes, eyes so much like Dearil's. "I promise."

***

She promised, but above-ground burial only existed to tempt grave robbers. It was a blessing; the universe wanted Lorelai to do this.

What wasn't a blessing was the man standing outside the mausoleum. Fucking Catheline must have held her suspicions and reported on them. The guard's head snapped her way, and she bolted.

"Hey!" he shouted. "What do you think you're doing?"

Every step toward her car, every step toward her front door was a knife twisting. She was leaving Dearil behind.

She went to the gathering to keep up appearances. She drank much-needed wine and ate Haitian foods even when she felt like the smallest bite of food would make her vomit. She and Catheline said nothing of their conversation, and the older woman hugged her a bit much for her liking.

The witches in the forums turned on her. They called necromancy evil and her plan foolish.

People like you are why people think so badly of us! wrote WitchBitch666. No one had any tips but MagickalShells wanted updates on her progress.

No one had done anything like this. At least, not in written history. She was completely on her own. But it wasn't the first time she did something crazy woth magic, though the forums were more help the last time.

The migraines. The vomiting. The paranoia. The way he couldn't catch his breath. Finally, the seizures. After the appointment with the neurologist, Dearil had called Lorelai crying.

Four tumors across his brain, all cancerous. Two inoperable, the structures too important and delicate.

Dearil needed her like he did when they were younger, but it wasn't enjoyable this time. The doctors estimated that he had ten months to live. They only offered to attempt to shrink the tumors with chemotherapy and "focus on his quality of life."

He slipped into a coma toward the end, and Lorelai grew desperate.

Lorelai knew little about witches. Heathens, Mama and Pedro called them. They voted for increased limitations on magic at any election - local, statewide, and nationwide. They wanted it to be outlawed entirely.

But she knew witches did things that couldn't be explained with science. Maybe science wasn't everything. So she turned to the forums.

Once a week she would rip off a fingernail with her pliers. She would sneak into Dearil's hospital room and put the fingernail under his mattress, then slice into his hand with a razor blade and draw a rune behind his ear with his blood.

Hospital staff increased security when they found the harm done to his body hand and the blood on his head, but he miraculously woke up after two weeks. He still had cancer, though, and her work wasn't done.

"You've been doing what?" he had cried when he was coherent and cognizant enough to understand, staring at the deep, angry red slash across his palm. She lunged for his hand and he stepped back. "And let me see your fucking nails!"

"Come on, you're dying," she pointed out. "What do you have to lose?"

He cringed, but they both knew she was right. So he would let her take his blood and sleep with finger and toenails under his pillow, though he shuddered to think about. She lost weight and grew pale as he regained what his mother called "bebe fat" and life returned to his eyes. The tumors shrank with each X-ray.

"You're doung this, aren't you?" asked Catheline, very seriously, and Lorelai had paled. But when the teenager bowed her head, Catheline pulled her into a hug. "Thank you, thank you, cheri. But don't kill yourself to save him."

Week eighteen. Lorelai's nails were growing back ever so slowly and terribly brittle. With two toenails left, she had to wonder what offering she would give when she ran out.

But with the next X-ray, it was announced that the boy who was supposed to be dead in mere months was in remission. He walked with a limp because of the damage the tumor did to his cerebellum, but physical therapy got that fixed up. He returned to school, behind a year, and Lorelai became fixated on influencing western medicine to adopt witchcraft, if not becoming the first doctor to use magic on her patients in the United States.

The guard was there the next night, but she made sure she wasn't seen. She linked herself to the ground and, urging him to hurry up and take a bathroom break or something. Dearin's brain was the most important thing to be kept, but the brain is one of the first things to go, ces collapsing just minutes after death. Every minute wasted waiting for this stupid guard was cellular death. Losing her Dearin.

An illusion spell. He ran to investigate the vandals kicking at tombstones and each footfall was like feet stomping on Lorelai's face. She was never so happy to feel pain though.

A spell to unlock the door would be a waste of energy. One of the runes on her chest was already seeping, and she needed to save her blood for tomorrow. She picked the lock and slipped inside as the "vandals" led the guard here and there, running him ragged.

Dearil didn't deserve to be in this house of nobodies. Name after useless name among the granite on the wall until she found a Dearil Jean-Pierre. She pried off the granite slab with her crowbar, and then the concrete under it. She dropped the concrete on her foot and puffed out her cheeks to keep in the profanities. The concrete broke in two, and she expected her throbbing toe did too.

She gripped the sides of his coffin and tugged. It took a minute to budge. Dearil wasn't very tall, and neither was Lorelai, but he was wide and heavy. Her face turned red and she grunted with effort. She jumped back as his coffin fell to the ground. It was still jammed shut, and she wished they still nailed coffins shut. She didn't know what this sealant wasade of, but it was rough.

Running out of time. Guard could come back. Hurry up.

The lid came out, and the smell. Oh god, the smell. She gagged, but it was nothing compared to when her flashlight landed on what was left of her friend.. No, that actually made her swallow back bile.

He was missing one arm, only a little mangled stub remaining in his empty sleeve, but that wasn't the problem. His face, God, his face. The left side was caved in, skin and dreadlocks torn away to reveal the gore. He didn't have much of a left eyebrow, his jaw leaned to one side with missing teeth gaping at her, and what was left of his nose was a bloody pulp with the little stud nosering glinting far from where his nostril was supposed to be. And his eyes, his gorgeous eyes... Grey-blue scleras, left eye protruding from the socket with black spots around the iris.

"Oh god, Dearil..." She rubbed her eyes, willing herself to get a grip.

This was the easy part; all she had to do was transport him. But how was she supposed to fit a 5'7", 185 pound man in an, albeit large, suitcase?

It felt so wrong undressing him. She wanted her first time seeing him nude to be consensual, but not one "yes" left his bloated lips. She tried not to look anywhere inappropriate, flushing under her mask.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered as she produced the bone saw from her gym bag. She held the flashlight in her mouth as she sliced into one thigh.

Rigor mortis had passed and he was soft abd squishy, but the femur was still rock solid. It took a bit of force and then she moved to the other leg. The smell increased tenfold, and ut got even worse when she swutched ti a scalpel and sliced off strips of his wobbly, pudgy belly.

His neck was already broken and any damage could be fixed, so she pushed his chin down to his chest, avoiding looking at those glassy eyes. His remaining arm was okay to stay. It was easy to angle and wrap around his head, and she secured the limb with tape before cramming him into the plastic-lined suitcase.

She put the lid on the coffin and lifted it back into its divot. It was much lighter now, only containing clothes, flaps of skin, and two legs, and there was no evidence if tampering at first glance. She pushed the two concrete halves together and into their place on the wall, shoving the granite slab in after. They kept sliding and threatening to fall, so in the end she went around prying off and smashing dozens of slabs. With so much damage, they won't know where to start, and if they find other caskets unaffected, maybe they won't check his...

This plan was falling apart. No it wasn't. It wasn't, it wasn't!

Connecting her senses to the grounds, she found the guard outside. She held a lighter to her hand, feeling the warmth, imagining a small explosion and fire. Runes bled onto her shirt. The guard ran off to check the exosion at the other side of the graveyard, shouting. Feet trampling her face.

It was just an illusion. She wasn't one for destruction magic or vandalism. Well... The mausoleum said otherwise about vandalism, but as she walked away it was out of sight and out of mind.

She still struggled to lift Dearil into the passenger's seat of her car, having to roll the windows down to deal with the odor. She plugged her phone into the auxiliary cord and played his favorite music. She was never a fan during his life, but now she loved the sound.

She didn't go to their apartment. No, that would be far too predictable. She still had a key to Mama and Pedro's beach house, and when she checked earlier that day she found that they hadn't chamged the locks. It was only an hour's drive and she could make that to and from work, school, home without running out of gas money.

The roar of waves crashing on the shore competed with the obnoxious rumbling of a heavy wheeled suitcase on cobblestone. She got inside and turned on the lights. The table was new, very nice with polished wood. She didn't feel at all remorseful putting Dearil's odorous, leaking body on the pristine surface to operate. Preserving his brain was frst and foremost.

Face-down, his eyes didn't stare at her. She sliced around the top of his scalp, separated the skull, and then sliched straight down to his nape. She severed his optic nerves and then focused on removing the brain. The brainstem had to stay intact, so she removed the uppermost vertebrae it was attached to.

In her hands, she held Dearil's mind, the most important thing she had ever touched. Faintly grey and sagging with a chunk taken from the left. She struggled to figure out what larts were damaged the most. She reslized, with complete horror, that there wasn't musch left of Broca's area. Not his voice! I need to hear his voice! She'd have to fix that.

Wernicke's area looked okay though, so hopefully he would be able to read abd write without problem. His parietal lobe as a whole didn't look so good, and he already jad sensory issues... Hopefully it wasn't too bad.

She wished she could do an X-ray and see how the inner structures had decayed, especially his hippocampi. He needed to remember her!

Focus. She needed to focus on the task at hand. Whatever the damage was, nothing would be fixed if she just stpod there staring.

Her medical school had gotten on board with new postmortem brain preservation techniques. Liquid nitrogen, cryonics, blood substitute. The dust was mixed into the fluid in the tank, and now she allowed Dearil's brain to be submerged. She dripped fresh blood onto the rune under the tank and for just a second, the water glowed.

The human body is home to tens of trillions of microorganisms that keep you healthy. Though these populations are necessary for human survival, a single one getting out of control would be devastating. That's where the immune system comes in, suppressing overgrowth and keeping these populations in check.

But dead people have no immune system; bacteria runs rampant.

Lorai soaked a new mask in winter mint rubbing alcohol and pulled it on, and new gloves. Her goggles and apron stayed on, and sue set to work, starting the scalpel at his shoulder and ending at his breastbone. Mirror the stitch. Slice down his mutilated stomach to the start of his pelvis.

Peeling back the skin, it was clear his liver and gallbladder were no more; his insides were stained yellow-green with bile, and the winter mint did little to mask the smell of ammonia and hydrogen sulfate. She had to get rid of his stomach before the hungry microbes could do any more damage, scarcely breathing as she cracked open his ribcage and transferred internal organs to a garbage bag.

She couldn't exactly drag him outside and hose him down, so so brought him to the downstairs bathroom with the detachable shower head. He was so light now.

She rinsed him with the shower head. Water ran yellow-green, and then finally clear, though his insides still were definitely not a healthy red-pink. She wrapped him up in the fluffiest towel and brought him to the kitchen. She'd removed all the shelves in the refrigerator during her first trip to the house so she had no problems sticking Dearil's mostly empty husk inside.

And then she lit a few scented candles and went to bed.

***

The head medical examiner was a lonely older man. His wife was either dead or left him (Lorelai wasn't sure which, and she didn't care), and his only company was the corpses he sliced open. Lorelai saw the way he looked at her, eyes hungrily taking her image in. In the days after Dearil's accident, she started making moves on him even though it ft so, so wrong.

She smiled at him throughout today's shift. She washed her hair for the first time in days and let it hang lose around her face during her break. She even put on makeup, though it took a few video tutorials to get it loose.

Toward the end of her shift, she sidled up to him, whispering, "Hey, Viktor..."

He glanced at her. "Hm?"

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

He went red up to the tips of his ears.

"Come home with me," she said in a whine, fingers stroking his arm. "I'm staying at my family's summer home. I'm the only one there, all alone and sooo lonely."

"Fuck yes," he breathed.

"You ever have sex on the beach?"

"I'm getting hard just thinking about it."

She forced herself to smile instead of grimacing. "You ever been with a witch?"

"You?" His eyes widened, but then he smiled. "I bet you're magical in bed."

Ew ew ew.

"You've got that right." She placed a hand on the unmarked chest of the man on the table. His skin was the wrong shade of brown, but his hair was perfect. She already had a nose on ice that she'd taken during Viktor's break. It was a bit too dark as well, but it was just the right shape for Dearil. "How about we take this guy with us?"

Viktor recoiled. "Excuse me?"

"Come on, you said you want a magical night. Do something crazy!" she exclaimed. "You don't have to fuck him or anythibg, and we'll have him back by morning. It's not like he'll mind. It's a witch thing."

Viktor put a hand to his salt and pepper hair, eyebrows knitting together. A few emotions clouded his features before he came to a decision. "If you say so. But if we get caught this was your idea."

"Noted. But I promise you'll enjoy yourself."

He helped her wheel out the John Doe on one of the cheaper stretchers no one would miss, faces obscured by masks and a darkness spell. They stuffed the corpse into the tiny trunk of her car. Viktor pressed his lips to hers suddenly, bushy mustache scratching her. He smelled like literal death and whatever offensive oil he rubbed into his mustache so he wouldn't have to smell as much decay.

He couldn't keep his hands to himself during the whole drive, rubbing her thighs, kissong her neck, trying to unhook her bra and getting excited when he found out she wasn't wearing one. She wanted to slap his hands away, shout that her body belonged to Dearil, but this was a necessary step.

Her mind screamed but her lips purred, "Ohh, that feels so good."

He still hadn't settled down when they were taking the Doe into the house. "Talk dirty in Spanish, chica," he murmured.

"I was born in Florida," she sighed. "I don't speak that much Spanish."

"Don't you know any?"

"A bit. Do you?"

"I can say hola and count to ten," he laughed. "My Spanish classes probably ended before you were even alive. Come on, say something."

"Estas... Estas tan muerto," she said. "Eres solo, uh, um... un peón."

"That's so hot," he moaned, and she bit her cheek to keep from laughing.

Viktor's smile became a frown when they walked into the house. He set the John Doe on the table while Lorelai went and locked the door. He quickly sniffed his shirt when she wasn't looking, but the smell wasn't coming from him. And the bed in the adjacent living room was a bit of an odd choice, though he could appreciate the silk and headboard. And the ropes. This was gonna be a fun night.

Lorelai came back, a smile playing on her lips. She put a hand to his chest. "Come closer, Señor. Permítame whisper in your ear."

He leaned close, his smile tentative now. Her lups were so close they tickled him just as a sharp pain struck his neck.

"I never liked you," she whispered, pressing the needle in harder as he tried to pull away. He shoved her away and staggered back, staring at the clear fluid still in the syringe.

"What the fuck did you just do to me, you crazy bitch?" he screamed, clutching bis neck. Her smiling, round face had gone hard and cold, expression neutral.

"Oh, calm down. It's just lorazepam," she said. "They use it on unruly patients all the time. It's probably the safest injectable sedative."

Ge hit out at her but she easily dodged the sluggish attack. She pushed him down onto the bed, tying up his wrists. He still kicked his legs until she tied his ankles too. He was finally silent when she wrapped the duct tape around his head and moury several times.

"Don't look at me like that," she said, tying ger hair back. "Alexa, play Bury Me at Makeout Creek by Mitski, full album."

It's beautiful out today

I wish you could take me upstate

To the little place you would tell me about

"When you'd sense that I'd want to escape," Lorelai sang over the muffled screams and shouts, pulling on her mask, goggles, gloves, and apron. Viktor could only stare at the saws, scalpels, drills, and needles that she left on the table before she disappeared into another room.

No one could hear him scream.

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #surgical whump #medical whump #magical whump #tw self harm #self harm tw #torture #torture tw #female whumper #female whump #male whump #male whumpee #female whumpee #tw death #death tw #creepy whumper

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bulldagger-bait · 4 years

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Sometimes I really hate the fact I was born female.

I hate that fact that men don't take me seriously.

I hate that I'm seen as a harpy whenever I show slight passion about a topic.

I hate that I was raised in a school where the boys thought I was insane for being a feminist. Where boys took pictures of me after saying "women only belong in two places, the kitchen and the bedroom", and then posting them all over social media calling me the "angry man hating lesbian feminist". I hate that a boy negged me on in chemistry class, sexually harassed me, and then when I lost it at him my chemistry teacher told me to calm down, that I was overreacting. I hate that when i told him to fuck off, and got sent to the deputy principal to explain myself. Me. Not him. Not the boy who was harrassing me, or the teacher that allowed it in his classroom.

I hate that when I told my dad a boy had been sexually harassing me, he went behind my back, contacted his parents and my school administration. I hate that I was then called into my deputy principals office and told that this had all "been blown out of proportion" and that I was being unreasonable. But it wasn't unreasonable for that boy to say he couldnt wait until I was 18 to get me drunk and high so he could have sex with me. When I was an out lesbian.

I hate that one of my friends was raped by a boy in our school. I hate that when she told the school they didn't believe her. I hate that they made her continue to share classes with him. I hate that she was threatened with suspension for spreading lies about "such a serious topic" and that he was able to keep harassing her on school grounds, unchecked.

I hate that one of my friends thought it was okay to threaten to rape me in front of my entire social group as a joke. And then I was seen as a hysterical bitch for telling my most trusted teacher. She actually did something about the situation. I was then ostracised from that group of friends. I "couldnt take a joke" apparently.

I hate that when I was nine years old I was riding my bike around my neighbourhood, and a boy five years my senior cornered me in an alleyway and tried to rape me not twenty meters away from my front door.

I hate that when I was younger a boy would hit me, scratch me, pull my hair, twist my arm, dig his grubby little fingers into my pressure points, making me cry out with pain, only to be told it was because he liked me. I hate that I believed it. I hate that I let it continue for two years. For two years my "best friend" covered me in bruises, and I let him because it made me feel pretty and wanted. I was ten.

I hate that when I was fourteen and desperate to convince myself I wasn't gay, a boy who i thought was my friend tried to pressure me into dating him only to then tell me about his porn addiction—his words, not mine—and call me an insensitive cunt for getting as far away from him as possible. After he told me about the things he'd like to do to me. Not with me. To me. As fourteen year olds. As children.

I hate that I was forced into pink and shaved legs and make up and long hair.

I hate that my mother made me cut up boxer shorts I had bought because I was sick and tired of wearing panties. Because some guy had made some comment about my grammy-panties. Never mind the fact that they were comfortable. I bought boxers because they were closer to shorts and I thought boys would just leave me alone. I bought boxers because they were cool and had superheroes on them and were comfortable. I bought boxers because I was sick and tired of the neon pink panties my mother had been making me wear for my entire life.

I hate that I wore pigtails to school and a boy called them "ride-me handle-bars".

I hate that when I cut my hair off the first thing people assumed I was, was a man. As if its that easy to take my womanhood away from me. As if all that makes a woman is long hair. I hate that I was called "skank who was trying to hard" when I had long hair, an "art hoe" when I had short hair, and a "dyke", "failed woman", "wannabe man" when it was cropped.

I hate that at 8 years old I was being bullied for being ugly. Because I had unkempt eyebrows. Unshaven legs. Tangled hair. Sweaty skin. Scraped knees. A crooked smile. Because I wasn't a child model. Because I wasn't some pedophiles wet dream.

I hate that I'm considered incompetent for certain jobs because of my menstrual cycle. Because women are too over emotional when they're "pms-ing" or "on the rag"

I hate that a man's go to insult for me is "cunt". Something that dehumanises me to my genitals. How silly of me to think I was anything more than just a hole for someone to fuck.

I hate that someone took advantage of my sexuality. Because I was repressed. Because I was a woman who grew up in a christian environment. Because I was a lesbian who was still convinced I could be straight. Because there was a pretty woman who knew she could manipulate me. I hate how there are people who still think its my fault, or that lesbian sex isnt even real so how could I be raped? Or that women can't rape. I hate that I had been convinced that what happened to me was normal. Because women are frigid bitches that don't want sex, but their partners do, and its "inhumane" to not put out.

I hate that I am paid less. And that people don't believe women arent paid less. Despite the fact that their is mountains of evidence to support our argument.

I hate that I had to do twice the work to get half the recognition in school.

I hate that a boy with no experience and no drive was seen as a more suitable leader than I was. Because I was a "controlling bitch". I hate that I did an incredible amount of work on the student council and he got to take the credit for it. I hate that he was a worse student but was seen as more acedemically gifted than I was.

I hate the double standards.

I hate how every part of my body is sexualised. I hate how my disability is sexualised.

I hate how when I mentioned my chronic pain condition to my male classmates, they made comments about how I would make a fantastic masochist. I hate that I internalised it. I hate that I believed them. I hate that when I got into a sexual relationship I let her hurt me—even though i didn't like it—because I throught kinky sex was the bare minimum and "vanilla" was for frigid prudes.

I hate that my body is not mine, but rather belongs to the public. For the government to legislate. For strangers to ogle at. For my father to control. And when I speak up I'm an unreasonable bitch. When I demand agency, I'm insane.

I hate how the odds were stacked against me since birth all because of that second x chromosome. All because some doctor said "its a girl" and immediately half of my opportunities were removed because they "weren't for girls".

I hate that in order to keep a job I am supposed to adhere to femininity. That not wearing make up is seen as lazy and unhygienic. That I need to "fix my eyebrows". That I need to shave my "gross gorilla legs".

I hate all this bullshit bagage that comes with being female. I hate it. I hate it so much. I hate that I am my own voyeur. I hate that even in my most private moments I am focused on how an unseen gaze would percieve me.

I hate that the slightest devience from "purity" will be met with threats of violence. That if someone doesnt agree with my politics I can be told to "choke on a dick" and to "kill myself" and whoever said that is safe in the knowledge that their community supports their words and actions. That if I step a toe out of line or make a mistake I deserve the full force of misogyny that people have been waiting to dole out to an appropriate victim.

I hate that my own father sexualised me. I hate that he abused me. I hate that he got away with it all because "teen girls make up that kind of stuff for attention". Because he was an "upstanding man". I hate that believes he is guiltless. I hate that he has manipulated and gaslighted me into believing his version of events. I hate that when I speak up I need to be careful because "he's a good man" and "he doesnt seem like the kind to do that" and that "you're blowing things out of proportion, I'm sure it was never like that."

I hate that when women accuse men of violence its "he said, she said". But when men accuse women of the same they are instantly believed. I hate that my voice holds less weight than a man's.

I hate that the religion I was raised in told me not to speak in church. Not to ask questions. To submit to men. To cover my head before god. That braided hair was sinful and vain.

I hate that I was taught there was no such thing as a female orgasm in order to discourage me from having sex. That I was told sex would be painful. And yet I was also told that when I married a man I should freely give him sex because it was my duty to serve him and bear children.

I hate that I'm seen as a baby factory.

I hate that I'm seen as a collection of body parts. A uterus. A pair of tits. A vagina.

I'm not those things. I am made up of those things, but they do not define my worth. I am made of carbon, but you wouldn't call me "an arrangement of carbon atoms" or "a carbon storage system" or "a carbon factory"

I hate that when I talk about my experience with womanhood I need to twist myself into knots to not step on any toes or offend. I hate that I have to be palatable when I am upset and enraged.

I hate that my anger is demonised and sexualised.

I hate that my love is fetished by heterosexual men. I hate that they see lesbianism as this empty thing to get off to.

I hate that I don't feel safe holding my girlfriend's hand in public. I love her more than anything in the world and my skin burns when I don't get to touch her. I hate that sometimes I get scared and call her my "friend". Not girlfriend. I hate that in public I feel ashamed to love her.

I hate it that my homosexuality is debated. I hate that it is seen as disgusting.

I hate that I have been taught and socialised that every single part of who I am is fundamentally flawed in some way.

And yet, despite all this, there are days where I am grateful for who I am. There are days when this body is not my enemy. There are days when I love my womanhood, however that may appear. There are days when I am unbothered by the thoughts of others. There are days where I am unafraid to love who I love and to love proudly.

There are days where the pain and anger of the past drive me to be happy.

I know those days won't last. They never do. There's always a slur, or a misogynist, or an abuser, or a traumatic memory. There's always a right being infringed upon, or an aspect of my body made public property, and it takes me right back to the anger.

I could never stop being angry. There is too much pain in this body to forgive and forget.

But sometimes, I don't hate the fact that I was born female. Some days I'm proud.

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duhragonball · 4 years

Text

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (111/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[2 March 233 Before Age. Despye.]

The Federation was an alliance of star systems united under Luffa's protection. She had forced its foundation by threatening to conquer the first four member planets unless they agreed to her idea. That idea was simply to create a bigger target. Luffa had grown bored fighting wars over individual worlds, and she believed that a large and prosperous galactic power would invite more challenging enemies. Despite her self-serving motives, Luffa's Federation actually worked very well for its citizens. Within a year, dozens of other star systems joined the Federation, hoping to enjoy the benefits of cooperation, free trade, and the protection of an interstellar military fleet backed by an invincible Super Saiyan.

But now, the Federation was under threat by an enemy powerful enough to upset the entire premise. A cult of Saiyans, empowered by something called "Jindan", had launched an invasion. Individually, these Saiyans were no match for Luffa, but they had numbers on their side. By attacking numerous planets simultaneously, they could push through the Federation's defenses. Luffa could only stop them in one place at a time, and the Jindan Saiyan were strong enough that they could hold their own against her by working in groups. It seemed that the cult's strategy was to wear Luffa and the Federation down in a war of attrition.

And then a new faction entered the conflict. To Luffa's great consternation, the Federation's new ally was a group of even more Saiyans. She had invited their leader to discuss things with her over dinner on her ship. What they sent her was a teenage girl with pink hair, who introduced herself as Princess Seltiss, Daughter of King Rehval III.

Irreverently, Seltiss held out her hand, inviting Luffa to shake it.

Luffa simply slapped it aside.

"I'm supposed to believe that you're turning against your old man, is that it?" Luffa scoffed.

"Ow. More like he turned against me," Seltiss explained. She wiggled her right hand, then cradled it in her left as she spoke. "I hear you've got plenty of problems with the way my father ran his regime. Is it so hard to believe that there's other Saiyans who agree with you?"

"It's a little too good to be true, that's all," Luffa said. "Nearly every Saiyan I've met has rejected me as a monster. Now suddenly you show up with an army of Saiyans willing to fight for my cause?"

Nearby, Zatte took Ryba Booth by the arm and led him further inside the ship. "Come on," she said. "We should really go to the dining room."

"You want the truth?" Seltiss asked after they were gone. "My followers still don't care for you very much. I'm not entirely sold on the idea of a 'Super Saiyan' myself. I was hoping that if I got to know you better, maybe I'd, like, come around. But so far it looks like my dad was right about you. You carry yourself like some berserker from the old stories. I helped drive off those Jindan creeps before they could kill Marshall Booth. I saved his fleet, not to mention a couple of your planets, but you look like you'd rather kill me than thank me. Hmph, and people tell me I'm stuck up."

"I didn't ask for your help," Luffa grumbled.

"Um, no? That's what makes it a surprise rescue? You may not want my help, but you're going to get it," Seltiss said. "We're allies, whether you like it or not. My father's gone mad. Maybe he always was, but now he's abandoned our race and doomed us all."

"Where is he?" Luffa asked.

"In hiding," Seltiss said. "He might be dead, for all I know. Either way, he's not going to help us stop Trismegistus."

"The leader of the cult," Luffa said. "What do you know about him?"

"Not much, but those Saiyans working for him are feeding his power. The more of them he recruits to his side, the stronger he gets. If we don't stop him soon, there won't be a Saiyan race. It'll just be Trismegistus, surrounded by a bunch of livestock he breeds to sustain his powers."

"I've seen this routine before," Luffa said. "Your sound just like your old man when he asked me to help him stop a serial killer who was preying on Saiyans. The whole 'we're in this together' speech. Next thing I know he tells me he created the murderer just so I'd walk into his trap."

"Pozet," Seltiss said. She rolled her eyes as she said the name, as if recalling an embarrassing relative.

"Oh, good, then you know his twisted little windup toy," Luffa said. "Did you know he created that abomination using tissue samples he stole from my wife?"

"No, I didn't," Seltiss said with a wince of disgust. "You mean that lady who was here a minute ago? Pozet was...? Oh, that's gross... I'm... I'm sorry. I can't say I'm surprised to hear it, but I'm sorry."

"For all I know, princess, you're nothing but another homunculus he created, or a sleeper agent with altered memories to make you tell me whatever lies would suit his purpose!" Luffa crossed her arms over her chest and set her jaw.

"That's not true," Seltiss said.

"And why should I believe you, little girl?" Luffa shouted. "Give me one good reason not to dropkick you back out of that entrance hatch."

"Katem is alive," Seltiss said.

Luffa's eyes widened when she heard this. "How do you know that name?" she asked.

"Xibuyas told me you called him that when you fought him," Seltiss said. "My father left him for dead on Planet Pflaume, but I rescued him. No offense, I still call him Xibuyas, but mostly because I don't want to make the big lug mad. But you call him Katem, because you're his mother, or at least you say you are, and that's the name you chose for him."

"That doesn't prove..." Luffa stammered. "Rehval could have found that out somehow, or.... Well, it doesn't mean you're on my side!"

"My father wanted to marry me off with Xibuyas," Seltiss said. "He never dared to tamper with our minds or genes, because he needs us to make a bunch of royal heirs with Super Saiyan blood in their veins. My mother was never anything but a eugenics experiment to him. So I know what it's like to be used by the Saiyan king. I might know about it a little better than anyone else. Maybe that's not enough to hammer out an alliance, but I'd say it's a start, you know?"

There was a long pause while Luffa weighed the girl's words. At last, she turned, and gestured for Seltiss to follow her. "Dinner's almost ready," she said. "I still don't buy any of this, but you might as well eat with us. My wife doesn't have much of an appetite, so it'll save me from having to store a bunch of leftovers."

"Uh, sure," she said. "Maybe I can raise Xibuyas on the subspace radio. He was leading our forces at Despye, but he's probably got that wrapped up by now."

"You do that," Luffa said. "If I like what you two have to say, maybe I won't break your neck at the dinner table."

*******

The dining room on Luffa's star-yacht was a luxurious cabin with a panoramic window. Normally, it provided a breathtaking view of the stars, but the ship was currently docked at a spaceport, and so the window only showed the dark grey hull of the freighter currently docked beside it. Marshall Booth was far more interested in the scene transpiring at the table, as Seltiss tried to get on Luffa's good side. Zatte's attention was mostly focused on the video screen on the wall opposite the window. It was meant for entertainment purposes, but it was currently patched into the ship's communication system, and now displayed an image of Xibuyas, Luffa's estranged son.

"So, chronologically, Xibuyas is only four years old," Seltiss began. "I'm not much older myself, but biologically, we're both like sixteen, thanks to the Hyperbolic Time Chamber."

"The Hyperborean what?" Zatte asked.

"It's another dimension," Seltiss explained. "Or maybe it's some kind of temporal anomaly, like the time dilation as you approach a black hole, only in reverse. See, for every minute you stay in the Chamber, about six hours pass in the outside world. Great way to train people on a deadline, but a pretty lousy parenting style, if you asked me. I spent a few years inside the chamber studying before I went off to private schools, and Xibuyas spent his time in the chamber getting stronger. Not quite Luffa-level strong, but I heard he gave you a little trouble."

Luffa rubbed her fingers over her chin, as though recalling fondly the last time Xibuyas had hit her there. "He got in a few good shots," she said, never taking her eyes off the video screen that displayed Xibuyas' image.

Xibuyas, joining them remotely from the Despye system, sat up a little straighter in his chair, and looked away from Luffa's gaze.

"I don't want to get too far off track," Seltiss said, "but you two really do have a resemblance."

"I was just about to say that," Zatte added. "I can see a lot of his father in him, too."

"Really?" Seltiss said. "What was his dad like?"

There was a low rumbling noise, which turned out to be coming from both Luffa and Xibuyas simultaneously. "Maybe we should save that for some other time," Zatte suggested.

"Why didn't you just return to King Rehval, boy?" Luffa asked Xibuyas. "You seemed awfully devoted to him the last time we met."

"I wasn't strong enough to kill you, Luffa," Xibuyas replied. "Her Highness convinced me that I should have a escape plan in case things went poorly. There was an access to the Hyperbolic Time Chamber in Pflaume City, and I retreated into it, leaving you to die when the city imploded. The city was completely pulverized by the pressures of the lower atmosphere, but the entrance to the chamber survived. All I had to do was pilot a small craft out of the Chamber and wait in the Pflaumian atmosphere for My Lady to come pick me up."

"For what it's worth, Katem," Luffa said, "I'm glad to see you made it out of there in one piece."

"We both are," Zatte added. She leaned towards the table, hoping to give Xibuyas a better view of her as she held up her index finger. "I'm, uh, I'm your stepmother, by the way."

Booth raised an eyebrow at this, as he knew very little about Zatte, but he had already gathered that she and Luffa were a couple, and so the revelation was mostly trivial to him. The Saiyans ignored Zatte altogether.

"After I saved Xibuyas," Seltiss continued, "We went into hiding, basically to wait and see what would happen next. If Luffa had really kicked the bucket on Pflaume, then we could have gone back to my dad and all would be forgiven. But since you survived, I decided I should lay low, and let my father think Xibuyas was dead. We set ourselves up on a nice, out-of-the-way planet, and waited to see what my dad's next move would be."

"But you're not laying low anymore," Luffa said. "The Jindan Cult. What do you know about it, girl?"

"I only know what others have told me," Seltiss said. "We started establishing contacts with Saiyans who weren't aligned with the Kingdom. Expats, anti-monarchists, anyone opposed to the Rehval Dynasty but willing to consider me as an alternative. Through them, we found out that Planet Saiya was evacuated, and not long after that, we found out the you were still alive. At first, I just assumed dad had evacuated because he was afraid you would go back to Saiya and destroy it. A lot of Saiyans we talked to had fled the planet because they didn't want to follow Rehval. He didn't lift a finger to stop you from demolishing the citadel and beating up most of the population, so they didn't trust his plan to evacuate."

"Sounds like they're the smart ones," Luffa said with a derisive snort. "They never should have followed him to begin with. That faithless bastard was never going to protect them, because he was using them as a diversion. At least they've learned their lesson. Besides, the evacuation won't stop me. I'll hunt Rehval and his flock to the end of the universe if I have to, and then I'll rip out his heart and eat it while he watches! Here, let me top off that stew for you."

"Uh, thank you," Seltiss said, allowing Luffa to refill her bowl. "It's very good, by the way."

"Damn right, it is," Luffa said with laugh. "Rehval's offworlder chefs probably couldn't season a proper stew if their lives depended on it. It's probably why you're so skinny. But go on."

"Right, well, like I said, we thought it was just my father trying to hide from you," Seltiss said. "Then we started hearing from Saiyans who had gone with him, only to leave afterward. They couldn't tell me where the new homeworld was. I guess the only way to get there was some sort of teleportation system, so no one but dad knew the coordinates. Anyway, they told me he went mad. My father always dreamed of a more cosmopolitan Saiyan nation, with diplomatic ties to galactic powers, and all the features of a modern state. He had this backup planet ready to go in case of emergency, but he didn't consider how isolated he'd have to be when he finally had to use it. He was obsessed with destroying you and reclaiming his power, but he just didn't have the means. They had supplies and natural resources, but without steady trade with the rest of the galaxy, the kingdom collapsed. I got multiple versions of that. It's tough to tell which broke down first, his sanity, or the social stucture. But things got pretty bad. That's when the cult showed up."

"Are you telling me the cult killed him?" Luffa asked.

"No one knows if my father survived or not," Seltiss said. "But they did invade, and he couldn't stop them."

"How did they find the planet when no one else could?" Luffa demanded. It rankled her to know that her enemies were fighting each other without her involvement.

"Trismegistus knew where it was," Seltiss said. "You seem to know that my father's an alchemist. Trismegistus is the guy who taught him. Dad used to tell me that he killed his teacher after he learned everything he needed to know, just like he killed my grandfather and uncle, and anyone else who might become a liability or a threat to his rule. When I was little, he would show me his trophy room on Pflaume City, where he kept some of Trismegistus' organs in a jar of preservative. But somehow, he's back."

"Who's to say this guy isn't an impostor using the name?" Luffa asked. "Your father told me identity theft is a tradition with these alchemy types."

"You may be right, but I'm not so sure," Seltiss said. "Dad told me that Trismegistus claimed to know the secret of immortality. Lots of alchemists do that. That's why dad kept his heart in the first place, just to make sure he stayed dead. But maybe he found a way to come back without one. All I know for sure is that he found and defeated my father, which makes him a better alchemist than dad. And he has plans for the Saiyans. When he conquered the kingdom, he offered dad's subjects a chance to join his cult."

"Then maybe your father signed up too," Luffa suggested. "If you can't beat him, join him, right?"

"You wouldn't say that if you've heard what I have," Seltiss said. "Trismegistus isn't looking for allies or soldiers. He's using our people for something much worse. You've seen what the Jindan power does. It amplifies a Saiyan's natural abilities, but if Trismegistus decides you're not worthy of it, he can remove that power, and somehow that process leaves you weaker than you were before you joined."

"The former cultists we've met describe a system that demands total supplication," Xibuyas added. "Trismegistus controls every aspect of his follower's lives. What they eat, who they fight, and how they... breed."

"Sounds right up Rehval's alley," Luffa said. "I can see why he got along with this guy back in the day."

"You don't understand!" Seltiss said. "I'm not going to try to defend my father. He created this mess by dabbling in alchemy, but at least he was trying to build up the Saiyan race. All my life, he taught me that he was going to unite the Saiyans into a powerful nation, and it was up to me and my descendants to carry on that work. But Trismegistus doesn't care about any of that. He's not even a Saiyan. If he gets his way, he'll turn us into a slave species, totally dependent on his power. And if he ever dies, what then? No one else knows the secret of the Jindan power. His followers will weaken and whatever society they build will come apart at the seams. This has to stop while there are still Saiyans like us around who haven't been tainted by his power!"

"Then give me your father," Luffa said with an eager grin.

"I already told you," Seltiss said, "I don't know where he is."

"Yes, but it's a safe bet that Trismegistus is operating on that secret planet where your father was last seen. We find it, and we can take the fight to the enemy. And while I'm there, I can check to see if Rehval really is dead. But let's get this straight: there's no scenario where Rehval lives through this. The only way you beat Trismegistus is by working with me, and the only way that happens is by betraying your father. Are you prepared for that, little princess?"

"I've been preparing for it my whole life," Seltiss said defiantly. "My father was wrong about a lot of things, but he was right about the Saiyan people needing strong leadership. I knew one day I might have to pick up the pieces after his bad decisions. If he is still alive, then he's failed us all, so I'll just have to start sooner than I planned. All I know for sure is that the Saiyan kingdom has no future until your conflict with him is settled."

Luffa looked at Zatte, and then to the image of Xibuyas. "What about you, Katem? I offered to help you before, and you rejected me. Are you suddenly going to tolerate me just because your girlfriend tells you to?"

"I speak for myself, Luffa!" Xibuyas growled. "My allegiance was to the King Rehval I knew, not the disgrace he's become. If his rightful heir bids me to join forces with you, I shall."

"Well, she's going to have to bid a little more than that," Luffa said. "I'll work with you, Seltiss, but your army is going to have to take orders from me and the Federation military. We tell them where to deploy, and they do it. Think they can handle that?"

"They will," Seltiss said. "Keeping them united has been a full time job by itself. It'll be a relief to have someone else leading them into battle. I think they might prefer taking orders from outsiders for a change."

"Good. I want Katem with me," Luffa said. "At least for a while."

"With you?" Seltiss asked. "I thought it would be best to have you defending different planets, to cover as much territory as possible."

"And that's smart thinking, kid," Luffa said, "but we won't win this war by staying on the defensive. If he's as strong as he was the last time we fought--"

"Stronger," Xibuyas said with more than a hint of irritation.

Luffa glanced at him and smiled wickedly. "Then the two of us working together can deal some serious damage to the enemy before they have the chance to retreat. The more Jindan Saiyans we kill, the harder things get for Trismegistus, right? Eventually, he'll be forced to concentrate his attacks to a smaller area, and that's when we'll take the advantage."

Seltiss exchanged a worried look with Xibuyas. "I... I mean, I guess that makes sense," she said.

"Then it's settled," Luffa said. "Booth here has probably already been planning how to organize our forces, but I'd like to go over a few things with him. In the meantime, I want you to keep trying to find out where Rehval was hiding. The sooner I settle things with him, the better."

*******

[2 March, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

"Is the meal to your satisfaction, Treekul?"

Treekul had no idea where she was, though her surroundings reminded her of a stage in a video game she had played once. "Volcanic Fortress," she thought it was called, or possibly "Fire Caverns." The room she was in wasn't actually hot, but the red torchlight on the stone walls created a menacing atmosphere which belied the Bigreenese pasta salad and Camelian pheasant she had been served.

"The bird's a little gamey, but it beats the rations from the ship I've been riding for the last few weeks." Truthfully, it was the best meal she'd ever eaten, but she didn't like who she had to thank for it.

"And the dress?"

The "dress" in question was more like a very wide belt, with lengths of red fabric draped over her legs and wrapped around her shoulders and neck. When Treekul was a child, she remembered dressing up her dolls in outfits she had constructed from ribbons, strips of paper, and other items that amused her. She was reasonably sure that those dolls had ended up looking more dignified than she felt right now.

"If I told you I hated it," Treekul replied, "would you give me back the outfit I had on before?"

"No, I wouldn't," he said. "I had your old clothes burned during the initiation ritual.

"Ritual?" Treekul asked.

"For your companions," he explained. "The three Saiyans who brought you to Mundokuul."

"Then you're part of the Jindan cult," Treekul said. She had suspected as much. Her partners had fallen unconscious on Mundokuul, and before Treekul could find out what had happened to them, she had been stunned by some energy weapon, only to wake up here--wherever "here" was--- in the company of a man in a hooded robe. It didn't make sense for anyone else to go to such lengths to capture them. The Jindan cult was the only thing they were searching for, and so the cult was the only force that would seek to move against them... or for them.

"I am," he replied. "And now, so are your companions. Guwar and Endive and Lesseri. They have received the gift of Jindan, and now they serve me."

"You're Trismegistus?" Treekul said.

"I am," he replied. He approached the stone pew where Treekul ate, and sat down beside her. He did not look at her, but instead stared straight ahead, offering her only the shadow of his cloak instead of a glimpse of his face. "They've told me all about you. Your background in alchemical history. Your use of geomantic triangulation to trace the rumors of my power. I'm quite impressed, Treekul."

"Yeah, well, you didn't make it easy for me," she said. "The big break came when we found one of your lost sheep. A Saiyan named Salziff tipped us off to Mundokuul."

"Yes, but it was your genius that allowed the others to discover Salziff," Trismegistus said. "He wouldn't have attracted much attention on his own. Not after what I took from him."

"He warned us not to look for you," Treekul said. "Begged us, really."

"You should have listened," Trismegistus said honestly. "I cannot allow you to leave this planet. You know too many secrets, Treekul. Men like Salziff are useful for spreading rumors, inspiring others to seek my wisdom, but you--! Well, you know too much. Left unchecked, you might share your secrets with my enemies, or the unworthy. I can't allow that."

"For what it's worth, I didn't want to come here," Treekul sulked. "The others didn't give me much of a choice. For them, it was a chance to get all those super powers you promised, but there was nothing in it for me but trouble."

"True, but if you had resisted then, you would have only had to deal with three Saiyans," Trismegistus said. "Now, you have no hope of escape."

"Then why haven't you killed me?" Treekul asked.

"Because, like you, I am also a student of alchemy," he said. "The Saiyans who worship me benefit from my teachings, but they can never truly understand it. In you, I hope to find a kindred spirit."

"I'm not an alchemist," Treekul said. "I just study the people who do. Mainly the dead ones. Whatever you want from me, I don't think--"

He reached up with his right hand and placed it on the back of her neck. A chill ran down her spine as she wondered if he was about to crush her vertebrae or inject her with some arcane toxin on his fingernails. Instead, he simply moved his hand up to the back of her head, caressing the green stubble that adorned her scalp.

"You're a very beautiful woman, did you know that?" he asked.

Treekul was beginning to wish that he had killed her. The alternative wasn't looking very pleasant.

"Most... most people don't like the hair," she said, referring to the thin layer of stubble on her scalp. "I cut it short because it bugs me when it grows out too much. I... I took a page from Servocelsus the Red."

"Of course," he said with a genuine thrill in his voice. "A favorite of mine. Did you know that he used his own trimmings in his experiments?"

"Really?" she asked, feigning surprise. Of course she knew that. The Servocelsan Parchment was part of the freshman curriculum at her university.

But that wasn't the point. The point was that she had dropped the name of one of the most amoral, megolamaniacal spagyrists in the history of galactic civilization, and now her host was talking about him like a revered hero. He wanted someone to listen to his mad dreams and plans. He longed for a sympathetic ear, and Treekul was pretty sure he wanted more than just her ear, if the dress was any indication. And so, she would humor him for however long it took to find a way out. For now, that was her only option. She had been talking her way out of dangerous situations for much of her adult life, so this wasn't necessarily anything she couldn't handle.

She just wasn't looking forward to it, was all.

NEXT: The Transmutation of Lesseri

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #super saiyan #luffa #zatte #xibuyas #seltiss #ryba booth #trismegistus #treekul #despye #nagaoka

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

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this one's called "im finally heading home and I wrote this on my phone in the airport and Ash does have family, and it's weird to see even one of them, set 79''

"Ashley? Ashley Clarke?" The moment Ash hears her full name being called at an after party in an accent that's far too familar, her blood runs cold. They're playing in London and she never expected anyone from her home town to be here, now. The music around her becomes white noise as she turns on her heel, ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off, she may not recognise the voice, but they obviously recognise her, which is enough to set her on edge. But when she turns, there's a young woman behind her, grinning and surprisingly familiar. "I almost didn't recognise you." The woman laughs, stepping into Ash's space and wrapping her in a hug.

"Do I know you?" Ash asks, awkwardly prying the young woman off of her, and the girl's face falls.

"Ashley it's me, it's Mikayla." And the moment it clicks into place, that this woman is her younger sister, Ash takes another step back, frowning, a sudden anxiety coursing through her, even after all these years.

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"I saw the show, and one of my friends knows, I don't know, someone who knows someone who got us invited here; I didn't know you'd be here." Mikayla speaks like she's trying to calm a frightened animal, and surprisingly it actually seems to work. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." And she goes to leave, but Ash reaches out, snagging her sister by the shoulder.

"Minnie- wait," she sighs, forcing herself to relax, "how old are you now?" And when Minnie answers that she's twenty-two, not even bothering to hide her confused and a little hurt frown, Ash pulls her to the bar and buys her a drink.

"If you're twenty-two that means it's been," Ash takes her out to the back of the pub where it's quieter, where they have more space to themselves, "fuck, it hasn't really been eleven years, has it? No wonder I didn't recognise you," Ash laughs, but Minnie isn't nearly so candid about it.

"Yeah, a lots happened since you left."

"Since I was kicked out," Ash corrects sharply, and Minnie at least has the decency to look apologetic, "where's Ellie?"

"Fucked if I know, probably playing happy families," she doesn't sound happy about it, "she's married, you know? Last I heard she was expecting, but that was a while ago, so who knows," she shrugged, taking a long sip of he drink as Ash's brow furrowed.

"You and Ellie don't speak?"

"Well I mean her husband is my ex-fiance so..." She shrugged, before giving Ash a wry smile. "Like I said, a lot's happened."

"Min, that's fucked, what the hell? You guys were The Shining twins when I left," Ash's eyes are wide as saucers as she looks at her little sister, who laughs, loud and sharp.

"We were eleven!" There's a long pause, and Minnie looks up to the stars above, her smile turning soft and whistful. "It's so strange, I never realised how much I missed you 'til I saw you again. Were you just planning to never come back? Never see us again?"

"Mum and dad don't want to see me," Ash rolled her eyes, and Minnie frowned.

"Of course they do! I mean, mum acts like doesn't want to see anyone apart from Ellie, she's barely spoken to Oz since his divorce - Oz got married too, by the way, like it didn't work out but the ceremony was beautiful - but she's just a traditionalist hypocrite."

"Oz got married?" Ash's voice is so gentle it almost hurts, and when Minnie looks at her, she sees the tears in Ash's eyes.

"You'd love his kids," Minnie smiles, taking her sisters hand and giving a fond squeeze, "Allen's almost ten, looks just like a little version of Oz, and Jackie's six, she's a terror." Minnie laughs softly, and Ash joins her. Part of her is completely overwhelmed with guilt, but then she pushes it down; however much she would have liked to see her brother, it doesn't override the fact that he was one of the people who helped run her out of town when she was nineteen. Brushing the tears from her eyes, Ash smiles.

"I'll have to meet them one day, now Min, what have you been up to-" before Ash can finish asking her question, Minnie grabs her hand, eyes wide as she focuses on the ring on Ash's finger.

"Did you get married?" She gasps, and Ash pulls her hand from Minnie's grasp.

"Calm down, I'm just engaged." She laughs softly, but Minnie is still agape.

"Ace, you're engaged, to who?" She demands to know, which startles a laugh from Ash.

"God, no-one's called me that in years," she mused, "he's around here somewhere, I'll introduce you later." She assured, and that set Minnie off on a whole new round of questions, why she was at the party, what she'd been doing with her life, how long she'd been with this 'mystery man' (and wouldn't Roger get a kick out of that).

Ash is hesitant to tell Minnie too much, she doesn't blame the girl for what happened over a decade ago, she was eleven at the time after all, but it was an automatic response when speaking to her family. She says she's a designer and that alludes to the fact that she works with the band before she's off and asking Minnie about her own life. Minnie really had changed in the past decade, dropping out of university to become an assistant to a museum curator. Of course this delights Ash, and Minnie's halfway through gushing about their latest collection when her voice dies in her throat and her eyes go wide.

"So this is where you've hidden yourself away, you know Freddie's been looking for you." Roger slings an arm around Ash's waist as he comes up to the sisters, shooting Minnie a grin where she's giving him a starry-eyed gaze.

"Oh god, he hasn't ripped that jacket has he?" Ash asks, leaning her head against his shoulder and wearing a terribly put-upon look. Roger snorts, shaking his head. "Is it his pants? I told him I'm not fixing another broken zipper," Ash groaned, before waving it off. "Whatever, Paul has a packet of safety pins, he'll survive; Rog, this is Minnie." She introduces, as if finally remembering her little sister sitting across from her. Roger sticks out his free hand.

"Mikayla, hi." Minnie corrects with flushed cheeks, snapping from star-struck to flirtatious in an instant. Ash fights to not roll her eyes, which she thinks Roger can sense by the way he gives her hip a squeeze.

"Minnie," Ash says pointedly, "this is Roger Taylor, my fiance." Minnie just about screams at that, at the please little grin Roger's wearing. "This is my little sister." Ash clarifies, and suddenly any confusion Roger had had cleared in an instant.

"I thought I recognised you," and he turns, lifting Ash's chin so she's looking at him, though she seems incredibly exasperated, and he's amused for the barest moment before pinching he cheek and turning back to Minnie, "you've got the same face."

"Similar, not the same." It's an kneejerk response from Minnie, who's lived her life hearing those words while standing beside her twin, but Roger doesn't think too hard about it and concedes easily.

Roger hides his confusion easily, but Ash knows it's there. For all the time she's known him the only thing she's ever genuinely been cagey about is her family, he knew she had a sister, well two, but the other doesn't seem to be here, but he's never really known anything about them beyond their names. But even so, he can tell Ash is nervous, even though she goes to commendable lengths to hide it. He's zoned out from the conversation for a bit, but when he comes to, Ash is grinning at him.

"Huh?"

"Min wants to know what I do for the band," Ash grins, before Roger smirks at her and she elbows him, "don't be gross." She warned, but that only made him smile wider.

"So this one Halloween-" Roger starts, but Ash stands so fast her chair goes crashing to the ground. She's as red as her hair, and she slaps a hand over his mouth.

"I told you to not be gross- stop licking my hand!" She cries, and he tries to say something but she refuses to move. Minnie watches like she can't quite fathom that her sister is bantering and engaged to the rock star she's had a crush on since she was fifteen. "Don't bring that up around my little sister, and anyways that Halloween is between you, me, and the trees-" She snapped though she was grinning, and finally she removed her hand.

"So that's what you're calling him-" and with that Roger's mouth is covered again, but they're both laughing, he's got his arms around her and Ash has her forehead pressed to his chest, but Minnie's starting to put two and two together.

"Ace..." A little in awe but mostly scandalised, "have you-?"

"No, shut up, whatever it is I haven't done it!" Ash is quick to deny, stepping away from Roger as he simply laughs louder, though he's quiet endeared by the nickname. "I'm their stylist, I make their clothes and plan their outfits." She clears up, though Minnie raises her eyebrows sceptically. "I'm gonna kill you when we get home," she murmurs to Roger, but she's smiling, and he just wiggles his eyebrows at her. Minnie feels something break in her mind... They live together; her older sister is in love with Roger Taylor, and despite all the tabloid articles she's read about his reputation, he loves her too.

"I've missed you, Ashley," Minnie says when Roger returns to the crowd. They both watch him go, and Ash is wearing a smile that the younger woman knows all too well, how smitten she is with that pretty rock star. Ash grins at Minnie, taking her hand and giving it a fond squeeze.

"I've missed you too, Minnie."

#this one's called #ash #ask your destiny to dance fic

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wisebrokenwallflower · 5 years

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bangtan fic rec

I can be kind of particular when it comes to what I’ll read and I hold a special appreciation for well-written fics with good plot and dynamic characters. I’ve started to accumulate a fair number of fics in my bookmarks, so I think it’s time I start sharing some gems with whoever cares. I highly recommend all of these since I think they are all beautiful in their own unique ways, but I will list the ships. I know certain things can be triggering to some people, so please read the fic tags in case.

the italics are my thoughts, the normal text is the official summary, bolded fics are the ones that had significant impacts on me and or I feel discuss something really important

(this may or may not kind of be an open love letter to all the authors on here lol)

same damn hunger by marienadine [Yoonseok]

When it comes to fucking around with his best friend, Yoongi follows two rules:

1. They must be inebriated.

2. They must not kiss.

okay this fic is heartbreaking? it’s really smutty, but it’s also super poetic and angsty. it’s just really good, I’ve read it a ton of times : ))

Let’s Not Hurt Anymore by exfatamorgana [Namjin]

They don’t talk about it, and usually no one thinks to ask. But if you did, Namjoon and Seokjin would tell. They aren’t keeping secrets, and if you asked them, they’d answer. It just so happens that on a Sunday, not much different from any other Sunday, the other boys think to ask.

So how do two people who are always together end up… together?

two things: 1) this fic is part of a larger series, but I have not read the other parts 2) you do need an ao3 account to read this fic.

besides that, this fic is so beautiful and holds an extra special place in my heart. this fic isn’t really about Jin and Namjoon, it’s more about everything else surrounding their romantic relationship; their friendship, their internal struggles, the other impactful people in their lives. it’s about their personal journeys, but the fic is also a platform to discuss some really important issues in a very thoughtful way. I’m not sure how to explain it well, but even though this fic is really sad at times, the parts that made me cry were the hopeful ones, the parts that made me feel like everything was going to be okay.

I Don't Regret a Thing by HeavenlyHell [Yoonseok]

Hoseok is a host working in a shadier part of town, living in a small apartment complex just away from the main and busy buzz of the big city. All he really was planning to do was get some gross food and continue his gross life, but he also manages to spot a very gross (and bloody, which is gross) body on the ground. Except, the body is alive, and upon closer inspection, isn't as gross as it seems.

this fic is actually kind of funny and cute. if you want something lighter (especially compared to the previous two) this is a good option. also I want Yoongi’s hair.

Creating a Home by CheekyBrunette [Namjin]

(I didn’t put an official summary for this one because it’s actually a series)

Foster Care AU- it’s literally the softest, cutest, sweetest thing you will ever read oh my god I love kid fics so much they’re so cute. this one actually deals with some heavy stuff since it’s the foster care system, and so there’s tough situations that put them in the system, but many of the kids also find new difficulties once they’re in the system. but seriously, nothing will make your heart suffer more than little kid bangtan. btw, Namjin are the parents. IT’S SO FLUFFY. like, even when Jin is losing his mind and it feels like shit is falling apart, it is immediately fluffy after.

On Patrol by Ragi [Jikook/Yoonseok/Namjin]

Officer Jeon has his eyes on Mr. Adorable.

Officer Min has a strange neighbor he can't seem to keep out of his life.

Captain Kim finds comfort in his son's homeroom teacher.

Well, cops need some loving too, right?

that’s the summary for part 1, but it’s actually a two-part series. the summary makes it sound super fluffy, but there’s actually a fair amount of violence and angst. it’s all happy in the end though, don’t worry. (I basically only read fics with happy endings) also, kid Tae is so cuteee.

i've been drinking, i've been drinking by decompositionbooks [Jikook]

Jungkook tries to figure Jimin out with Yoongi's trademarked "What Your Drink Says About You" alcohol psychoanalysis.

All he knows is that Jimin likes fruity little drinks.

this one is really cute and a little sad. the best part of this fic for me was the fact that it really improved my knowledge of drinks lol

doubt thou the stars are fire by iwillalwaysbelieve [Jikook/Yoonseok]

Jeon Jeongguk's got a Reputation™. Park Jimin learns how to not give a shit about it.

this one is really short but really cute : )

White Chalk by g_odalisque13 [Taegi]

Yoongi had been aware of the shadow for as long as he could remember.

Sometimes he went months without feeling like it was just a few steps behind him or waiting around the next corner. But no matter how long he was able to avoid it, it always came back. Always.

It's 1993, and Yoongi is a music major starting his sophomore year in college. A bunch of stupid dares from his friends aren't supposed to turn his world upside down. Then again, maybe it's not the dares. Maybe it's just Taehyung.

I don’t know how to effectively describe how much I love this fic, but I love this fic so damn much. it’s just so well written and funny and genuine and it’s really honest and nice and it makes me happy

tie the knot by jivenchys (bareJinerals) [Jikook]

Either stay married to an arrogantly conceited billionaire for one year and get a million dollars in return, or drown in his father’s debt with the risk of ending up on the streets. Signing the prenup suddenly seems harder than it looks.

mate let me tell you, this is the slowest fucking slowburn you will ever read in the history or slowburn. every other fic on this list is complete except for this one, but even though this one is still in progress, it’s so fucking good that it’s definitely worth the wait. I have not felt excitement equivalent to that when I saw that this fic was updated recently. even though it’s still in progress, this is one of my all time favorites

hey, you never walk alone by deuxoiseaux [Yoonseok]

"Are you stalking me, or something?" Hoseok demands, more than loud enough for his voice to carry to the roof of the two-story building overhead. "This is seriously the fourth time I've seen you today alone! What is your deal? Why are you always everywhere I go lately?"

The man in the red and blue suit peeks down at Hoseok from the rooftop ledge. "...I thought I was being stealthy," he answers, and Hoseok can hear the pout in his voice even with his face hidden behind that mask. It's kind of endearing, even if it's still annoying.

(or: the spiderman au nobody asked for but exists now, i guess)

this is so cute! it’s a really short fic, but I love the characterizations a lot : )

a sugar coated pill and a pick me up by whomstisthis [Namjin]

As Namjoon stood slightly removed from the scene, bemusedly watching the six-year-olds swarm around his cooler (which he had borrowed from his mom), he didn’t even notice that someone had sidled up next to him until he heard the tiny, but undoubtedly exasperated, huff.

He followed the sound, turning his head to the right. A guy was standing there, arms crossed, lips pursed. He let out another huff, louder this time, but only slightly.

Namjoon refused to acknowledge him. What the fuck was this guy’s deal? Was he really that bitter that his six-year-old just lost a soccer game for six-year-olds?

One more huff from the guy.

He was beginning to think this guy’s lips were just perpetually pursed and would simply never, ever unpurse themselves, when he, the guy, finally unpursed his lips to speak.

“I just think it’s pretty irresponsible to bring Gatorade to a soccer game for first graders,” he said, huffily, “No offense.”

(or: namjin are soccer dads who fall in luv)

kid!tae and kid!kook are friends and it’s really cute and also I love Jin and Joon’s banter. also, this is explicitly set in new york, which makes for an interesting cultural cross. (and completely unrelated, this fic taught me about Richard Siken, who is a heart wrenching poet)

Of Lace Panties and Accidental Magic by jonghyunslisterine [Jikook]

In which a meddlesome teenage witch makes a considerable mistake mixing her potions.

(Or; Jungkook can't lie, Jimin's not looking like himself, and everyone knows Jungkook's in love with Jimin - except Jimin.)

this one of the few cisgirl!bangtan fics that I like (even though Jimin’s not technically a girl). often the whole “bangtan as girls au” thing feels kind of forced, but here Jimin’s gender thing is actually constructive to the fic rather than distracting. it’s really cute and jikook are a whole mess but it’s fine

hounds of love by fitzgarbage [Namjin]

Seokjin hasn't been back in a long time.

it’s kind of melancholy but it’s really well written. the last tag is “some characters are sad”. yeah. a large part of this fic is about growth and self discovery and I think that’s really why I like it.

girls just want to have fun by fitzgarbage [Yoonseok/Vmin/Namjin/Jinkook]

“Namjoon told me you’d probably be haunting a corner. I didn’t know what he meant, but I think I get it now.” He’s breathing hard. “I knew you right away. You look really good, by the way.”

transgender, intersex, and nb characters. I have a lot of things to say about this fic but my brain isn’t really working right now so I may end up having to make a separate post. I just have a lot of things to say about this fic. there are some fics that aren’t just enjoyable to read, they’re also important to read. that’s this. fair warning, you’re going to want to wrap everyone in blankets and protect them from the world forever after you’re done reading this.

Internecine by jawsbar (GryfoTheGreat) [Yoonseok]

Everyone gets a soulmate. You don't get a choice in the matter. Fate decides who you love, whether you like it or not, and to her credit, she usually gets it right.

This time, Fate fucks up. Like, majorly.

(Or: Failed idol Jung Hoseok is bonded to the very person who destroyed his dream.)

HOLY SHIT. SO FUCKING GOOD. READ THIS. JUST DO IT. I DON’T CARE IF IT TAKES YOU A WEEK. JUST DO IT. there’s a lot of real issues within the industry that the author talks about and it’s things that you might already know about and things that you may not know about. it’s really informative and beautiful and amazing and just go read it. (also the author is a sweetheart, super nice person : ))

harvest moon, recall your youth by blackranger (robpatFF)[Taegi/Namseok/Jikookjin]

“How drunk was I?” Yoongi asks. “Did I seriously tell you my whole life story before we hooked up?”

“No,” Taehyung giggles. “Silly Min Yoongi. You told me your life story before we got married. Then we fucked. Like a honeymoon, you know?”

Or, Yoongi and Taehyung get drunk married in Las Vegas.

the taegi is really sweet and the namseok is nice too

the waiting game by bonnia [Jikook]

It’s a waiting game. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t have to come back, but with every little touch, every time Jungkook does, and every time Jungkook lies down right next to him, pressed up close, torturously warm and smelling like cigarette smoke and cologne, Jimin can’t help but feel like he could — would — wait years just for Jungkook to come back to him again.

(Or: In which Jimin is a prostitute and Jungkook is his favourite customer.)

it’s really sad and then it’s really sweet. Kookie is a sweetheart and Jimin needs a hug

boy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away by 777335

Summer before his third year, Hoseok says he wants to move out of the dorms and Yoongi replies easily, “My lease is almost up, wanna get a place together?”

Hoseok can’t speak for a second, just wants.

“Seok?” Yoongi says, pushing his glasses up with the heel of his hand, tongue poking into his cheek nervously. “We don’t— we don’t have to, never mind.”

“No,” Hoseok says, taking the half step to their table, sliding Yoongi’s beer toward him, settling on his stool with his caipirinha. He chews on the straw. “No, no,” he can feel the smile breaking across his face, “that sounds great, that sounds really nice. Holy shit, yeah, let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” A shy smile touches the corners of Yoongi’s mouth. “Yeah? Okay. We could get a couch for Holly.”

or hoseok and yoongi meet on the internet, become friends, both end up in seoul, become better friends, move in together, and then eat some pancakes. oh, also they make out.

it’s really cute! they’re so sweet and they actually communicate and it’s nice and they kind of remind me of my relationship with someone very close to me ; )

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I have some more recs, but I wanted to post these so that this didn’t sit in my drafts forever lol. happy reading! dm me if you love any of these a lot and we can gush together : )))

#taegi fic #jikook fic #namjin fic #ao3fic #bangtan fic rec #sope fic #I actually use yoonseok but sope seems like the more common tag #the things fanfiction has given me

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manifestoonmoralmanlove · 5 years

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Chapter 7 – Stalking? No, slut dads who slutted each other.

A well-meaning friend gave me a book series that is hilariously bad. The first book was Souless and my riffs were entitled brainless. This second book is entitled Changless and these riff are then gormless.

I mean to say I have entitled them gormless! Not that my riffs are dumb, and the effort I spend on them stupid since I’m the only one who enjoys them. HAHA!

The story is SUPPOSED TO be about how a badass lady wearing a rad-looking carriage dress hits baddies with her umbrella and bangs her hot werewolf husband. In reality it’s mostly poor attempts at being witty, flirty, and superior.

For the last book check out the brainless tag.

If you want the TL;DR version but want to read these new riffs anyway?

This story is set in supernatural Victorian steampunk England. Alexia is our NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS protag. She is a soulless, which means she’s able to negate the abilities of vampires and werewolves by touching them. She’s recently married a big oaf, named Lord Connel Maccon. He’s the manchild in charge of the supernatural police with a zillion dollars and he’s totes super hot too ok. Their relationship is mostly arguments about how Maccon can’t tell her fucking anything. Alexia has also recently become head of ~Soulless affairs~ in Queen Victoria’s government. She has a dumb friend named Ivy, a gay vampire friend named Akeldama, a family who’s evil because they do the same shit as her but while being blonde, and most importantly Alexia is better than everyone cause…cause.

Last time on Gormless:

There’s some mysterious force that’s turning the Vampires and werewolves into humans. Alexia is in charge of figuring out that deal, and she is doing a bad job at it. Her husband is in charge of the Supernatrual Police (BUR) so he’s going to Scotland about it.

Alexia is also going north to help her husband with a crew crafted for a comedy. and oh boy I can’ts wait.

Chapter 7 – Stalking? No, slut dads who slutted each other.

Tunstell has been poisoned! So Alexia and LeFoux tell him to puke. Ivy gets really offended that they asked him to puke. Like it was actually kinda shocking how nasty Ivy gets about this. Ivy insults Alexia, and laughs condescendingly while saying it’s just regular old food poisoning. Like that’s pretty fucking cold Ivy damn.

I know this is supposed to be a comedy of ~manners~ this hubbub is because it’s gross and ~untoward.~ But a secret part of me wants to believe that Ivy is pissed at Tunstell for giving her feels and wants him to suffer.

Also I love how Alexia and LeFoux just TELL him to puke, and when Tunstell is like…what? How? They’re like you’re an actor just puke wtf do we have to explain everything to you?????? But eventually they concede, he takes some ipecac, barfs, and doesn’t die. Ivy was fluttering around him all a tizzy over this incident. A part of me is like, why didn’t they just leave Ivy and Tunstell alone here to sort out some shit? But I mean, Ivy seems salty enough to allow him to be in horrible pain. If they weren’t careful she was going to pull a fake eggplant off of her ugly hat and suffocate him with it.

LeFoux gets fed up with all of Ivy’s tittering so she gives her a bit of Cognac. She takes what are described as two nips. So I was picturing itty-bitty sips, and Ivy immediately becomes blitz out of her fucking mind. I’m not exaggerating, 2 sentences after the nips, she’s staggering in zig-zags. She bumps into doors, spills drinks, and giggles like a mad woman. I haven’t had cognac before but like….REALLY? To me, they might as well have written, “Ivy was within 15 feet of an alcoholic beverage, so she’s sloshed. She starts laugh-crying while singing Danny Boy incoherently and trying to give Tunstell a handy under the table…but it wasn’t Tunstell it was just an empty chair. Which was actually lucky for Tunstell cause at this point she couldn’t do more than just play bloody knuckles with his nut-sack anyway.”

But anyway Ivy and Tunstell retire to their rooms and Alexia and LeFoux go to have a chat on the deck. Alexia is like, “Why would anybody want to poison Tunstell it makes no sense!” To which LeFoux, with more patience than I could ever muster, points out Tunstell ate HER meal. Alexia has a moment before she’s like, “Oh yeah, people are always trying to kill me.” LeFoux is a bit flummoxed that Alexia seems pretty chill and incurious about almost being murdered. Alexia continues this track of being an intellectual giant by asking LeFoux if she’s a spy or assassin out to get her.

She, of course denies it, by saying she could have easily killed her earlier cause gosh what a badass she is. But like what the hell Alexia!? All you did was alert LeFoux to your distrust of her. What were you hoping is going to happen by asking that question? Denying it is hardly going to prove one way or the other, were you hoping you’d get,

“Yes! KER-STAB! U DEAD!”

Yet it’s almost as if her wish came true because a mysterious figure shoves Alexia off the deck, to meet her doom splattered on the English Countryside.

NO this isn’t where the chapter ends. Here we are 4 pages in and we have a much better cliff-hanger than TUNSTELL DUN BE POISONED!

Unluckily for us Alexia’s descent is cut short because a random protuberance on the dirigible catches her dress and she hangs on for dear life while LeFoux fights for hers against the mysterious shoving assassin.

But just as you were getting caught up in the action, a port-hole opens near Alexia to reveal the still hammered Ivy. We have a very appropriate bit of comic relief where Ivy slurs out how extra it is of Alexia to be climbing around on the outside of the dirigible. Which, to be fair, I wouldn’t put it past her. But eventually LeFoux scares off the attacker and they rescue her. The attacker was wearing a mask so we CAN’T SAY who it could possibly be. I bet it’s Angelique.

However LeFoux goes back to Alexia’s room with her, and Alexia sees she got a scratch on her neck from the fight. So she takes off LeFoux’s cravat and cleans it up. It’s very intimate.

Gotta be honest, I am so here for the lesbian flirting. I think fewer people should be flirting with Alexia, but I hardly care at this point. I’m happy that this book isn’t afraid to throw a masc-presenting lesbian love interest. I mean, this is perhaps quite a low bar since modern romance novels don’t tend to be homophobic, but I appreciate a stronger inclusion regardless.

But as she’s doing so she spies a tattoo on her neck of that OCTOPUS SYMBOL! YANNO THE HYPOCRAS CLUB THAT TRIED TO KILL HER, HER HUSBAND, AND THE TOKEN GAY MAN LAST BOOK! OH NO! But Alexia pretends she didn’t see it. She asks LeFoux why she’s following her around. LeFoux is all like, “Oh GOSH I WISH I COULD TELL YOU BUT I CANNOT! I AM MYSTERIOUS!” I really hate this cop-out, and I particularly hate this one cause I can already taste it now…the reason she can’t tell Alexia is for a really dumb reason that would cause 0 damage if she told her right now. (Also going back and editing this after I finished the book, I was right. SHOCK!) It’s also kinda infuriating cause Alexia (rightly so for once) is like, “Just tell me!” To which LeFoux rolls her eyes and is like, “Oh you soulless are always so annoyingly logical.”

HEY LISTEN GIRL, PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO KILL HER ALL THE TIME, IT’S NOT FUCKING ~DISPASSIONATE~ OF HER TO BE DISTRUSTFUL FOR CHRISTS SAKES! UGH!

In order to appease Alexia’s outrageous line of questioning, LeFoux barfs out some totally unrelated backstory. She was an illegitimate child from a slutty dude who died soon after she was born. She was raised by her aunt. As a child she met a man who used to be gay lovers with her dad. TURNS OUT THAT RANDOM MAN IS ALEXIA’S FATHER! WOW! What does that have to do with her following Alexia around like a dog trying to hump her leg?

BEATS THE HELL OUT OF ME!

But Alexia is swayed with that and they part ways.

Say something nice Faps:

It’s getting even gayer up in here. Seriously Alexia, if you were seriously considering getting deep-dicked by Douche-canoe, douche canoe, of the dickwad douche canoes you better be considering this.

In particular I like the idea that Alexia’s father was openly bisexual. In part because she describes him as basically down for any person who wanted to fuck him. I am the kind of slutty stereotypical bisexual that relates to that. Also the more gay characters the better my friend.

I mean, I’m not super happy with the direction they continuously drag Ivy’s character but it’s at least it’s more of a personality. And I’ll take the comic relief, even if it isn’t good.

#changless #gormless #riffs #soulless #riffing

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easy-p-lemon · 6 years

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Family Day

A/N: Anon said:

hi! i can’t believe that was your first piece - it was so so so good and had me all in my feels 🙈 can i request an imagine with protective dad!shawn where you’re out with him and your twin daughters but the paparazzi keep getting in your way and the flashing lights scare the girls

Thank you for the kind words!! Here you go, hope you like it! If you haven’t read it yet Forever and Ever was what Anon was talking about :)

(the picture is slightly irrelevant, but oh boy that man is beautiful)

“Babe stop staring at me” Shawn whispered, keeping his eyes closed.

“But you’re so pretty” you mumbled smiling wide. You were so happy. Shawn had been away for the past two months doing a festival run, and now that you were finally able to wake up next to him, you were on cloud nine.

Shawn cracked open one eye to look at you. “Pretty? Don’t you mean ‘devilishly handsome’ or ‘irresistibly sexy’ or ‘steaming hot’ or ‘deliciously sensual’ or -”

“Nope,” you cut him off. “I meant pretty. I mean look at these curls and - ahh!”

Shawn had pushed himself off the bed to tackle you onto your back. Hovering over you, he looked as if he was about to say something before he stopped himself. He was staring at you with eyes filled with adoration, and maybe the smallest bit of lust.

“What?” you asked, smoothing your hands down his back and slipping them under the hem of his shirt to rest on his solid chest.

“God you’re gorgeous,” he sighed before leaning down to give you a deep kiss. Pulling away, he started planting wet kisses across your jaw and down the column of your neck. You let out a soft moan.

“I’ve missed those moans,” he spoke against your skin, continuing his assault.

“Shawn the girls,” you gasped out as he touched his lips to the spot behind your ear.

“Mmm I’ve missed you,” his hands slip up and under your shirt “so much.” His hands continue to wander, paying special attention the spots that make you gasp; spots that he’s memorized after years of exploration.

“Shawn” you pant out - all thoughts of asking him to stop slipping further from your mind “Oh that feels good.”

His lips find their way back to yours, and just as you give up on fighting him, your door flies open and the sound of little feet start racing up to jump on the bed.

Delilah Marie and Elliana Claire were your 4 year old twin girls. The identical pair was inseparable, always getting into trouble together, but while they shared the same DNA the two girls were night and day. Delilah had a habit of not thinking much before acting on her impulse. The stubborn girl seemed determined to stir up trouble and always made sure her voice could be heard. She loved her dad so much, but she wanted to be just like you. She loved walking around in your heels and coloring next to you whenever your brought home work so that she was able to work with you too.

Elliana, on the other hand, was very quiet. She was the sweetest little girl and very go-with-the-flow. She always thought hard before doing something, and would often scrunch up her little nose when her sister did something she shouldn’t have. And while Delilah wanted to be a mini-y/n, Elliana was the definition of a daddy’s girl. She would always cuddle into his side whenever she could, and loved to watch him on stage.

And Shawn was the biggest fan for both of the girls. He adored spending time with them and would give them the world if they asked.

“Good MORNING mummy!! Good morning daddy!! Wake up!” Delilah yelled as she flopped onto Shawn’s back.

Shawn sent you an apologetic smile before fixing your shirt and placing a quick kiss on your cheek. He whispered “later” into your ear and sent you a wink before turning around to address the girl on his back.

“And what do you think you’re doing Miss. Lilah?” he questioned, before playfully tossing the girl onto the bed and tickling her sides. Delilah squealed, giggling out “Stop it!” and “I surrender!” between belly laughs.

Elliana climbed onto your side of the bed and cuddled into your chest, watching as Shawn stopped his tickle attack and blew a raspberry onto her sister’s cheek. Elliana let out a small giggle, causing Shawn to whip his head around and squint his eyes at the girl on your chest.

“What’s so funny over there little Ellie?” he placed a few raspberries on her tummy, forcing the girl to let out another soft giggle. Lifting his head, he was all smiles as he laid back down between his two girls.

Ellie climbed off you and on to her dad’s chest, kissing him on the cheek and whispering a soft “good morning,” before laying back down.

“Good morning my two angels,” Shawn sat up on the against the headboard so he could see both his girls. “What do you want to do today?”

“BEACH!” Delilah screamed, bouncing up and down on her knees.

“Lilah, don’t scream baby. We’re all right here,” you reminded her.

Shawn looked to Ellie, “What about you honey? Do you want to go to the beach too?” he asked, rubbing circles on her back.

With big eyes she looked up at him, “Can we get ice cream?”

Shawn let out a small chuckle. “Sure babygirl, we’ll get some ice cream on the way home.

It took a while, but by 11 o’clock you had gotten the girls dressed and ready, packed lunches and a bag with spare clothes and gotten ready yourself. You walked to the door to see Shawn kneeling in front of Delilah with Ellie on his back. Delilah had her arms crossed and hip stuck out (a pose Shawn said she learned from you) as she stated “No daddy. I will not wear sunscreen. It’s sticky and gross and, and ... I don’t like it.”

Shawn let out a sigh and calmly explained “Lilah if you don’t put on sunblock, your skin will get all red and it will hurt. You don’t want to hurt later, do you?”

“I won’t,” Delilah insisted. “I’m four now.”

Shawn smiled at that. “You know, mummy wears sunblock,” he mentioned, raising an eyebrow.

This made the little girl pause. She turned and looked up at you with questioning eyes, “Do you?”

You took the sunblock from Shawn’s hand and squirted some on to your palm, crouching down to her level. “Sure do baby. Come on, let me put some on those cute little cheeks.”

Satisfied, she moved closer and let you put the sunblock on. Once you were all done, Shawn stood up and let Elliana back to the floor. He looked back and forth between the twins before saying “Race you to the car!”

Both girls started laughing and took off down the driveway, Shawn barely jogging behind them. You laughed outright at the adorable race and went to catch up.

Once you were all set up with your blankets, chairs and umbrella, the girls took off to play in the water. You’d already been to the beach multiple times before, so they knew that as long as they stayed together and could see mommy and daddy they could go in the water by themselves. They only played in the shallow end, and you and Shawn picked a spot close to the water to keep an eye on them.

You pulled the sunblock out of your bag and Shawn promptly swiped it from your hands. You raised your eyebrows at him and he responded with a cheeky grin.

“Let me help you put this on Mrs. Mendes,” he said, kneeling next to you.

Laughing you shook your head. “Smooth, Mr. Mendes. But I already put some on at the house, I was going to tell you to put some on because after being married 5 years I know you like to pretend you don’t need it only to be red as a lobster after one hour.”

Shawn tossed the sunblock to the sand next to your feet. “Mrs. Mendes I’ll have you know I already put on sunblock, so you can put that bottle back in your bag and apologize.”

“You did?” you raised an eyebrow.

Shawn let out a small huff and rolled his eyes. “Yes. Ellie helped me. Now, say you’re sorry for doubting your sexy husband and admit that you were wrong.” He leaned in so close you could feel his breath fan across your face. He had a straight face but his eyes were dancing with laughter.

You leaned in too and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling away so your noses are touching you whisper, “I’’m sorry -” another kiss “to my” kiss “sexy” kiss “husband. I was wrong.”

You go to pull away, but he slides his hand up to cup the back of your head and pulls in for one final promising kiss.

“You’re forgiven,” he pulls away with a big smile on his face and you can’t help but smile back. He gets a glint in his eye and it seems as though he’s going to say something, but the girls walk over and ask for Shawn to help them build sand castles.

“See,” Ellie held out her hands cupping seashells, “We even found pretty shells!”

“Well if you found pretty shells the we have to make a sand castle,” Shawn agrees.

You pull out your book while they get to work and the next couple hours pass quickly. After making a sand castle everyone takes a break for lunch and then the girls are practically dragging Shawn into the water.

The afternoon is filled with laughs and splashes from everyone. Only a few fans stop and ask Shawn for a picture (to which he kindly agrees) but for the most part the small family is left to enjoy themselves. By 2 o’clock the girls have crashed and are sitting on the blanket with drooping eyes.

“Time for a nap you two?” you ask, smoothing the hair from Ellie’s half lidded eyes.

“But -” Ellie yawns “What about ice cream?”

Her sister sits up from her spot in Shawn’s lap. “Yeah,” Delilah argues, turning to look at Shawn, “You promised.” She gives him a small pout.

“You guys sure? We can go tomorrow,” he looks back and forth between the two twins.

“We can go now! Right Ellie?” Delilah turns to her sister.

“Yeah!” Elliana gives her sister a small nod back. Then she looks up at Shawn. “Please?”

You can almost see Shawn’s heart melting. “As long as mummy’s okay with it,” Shawn looks to you, always making sure you parent as a team.

You now have three identical pairs of eyes staring at you.

“Oh alright,” you give in “but its nap time as soon as we get home.”

The ice cream shop is only a block away from where you parked, so after you bring everything back to the car you decide to walk to the small parlor. Ellie sits on Shawn’s shoulders while Delilah walks between you and Shawn, holding both of your hands while you guys sometimes swing her back and forth, making her erupt in giggles.

When you walk inside you see that the place isn’t too busy, and everyone quickly gets their ice creams. The girls pick a table by the window and you and Shawn sit with your back to the door. After everyone finishes the cold treat, Ellie points to the glass doors behind you.

“Look daddy, that’s a lot of people.”

You and Shawn turn to see a mob of people outside the ice cream shop. You look to each other, confused, before looking back and noticing that almost all the people were carrying cameras.

Shawn’s eyes go wide and he runs a had through his hair. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Fuck.”

You and Shawn have worked really hard to keep the girls out of the limelight. Shawn will talk about them in interviews and sometimes you’ll share a picture of them on social media, but for the most part you like to keep your private life private. You both agreed the girls deserved a normal life. To them, Shawn was just their dad - not a pop star.

Delilah looked to her dad. “What are all those people doing daddy?”

Shawn instantly put a fake smile on his face. “You know how sometimes people ask to take pictures with me?”

“Oh yea! Like those nice girls on the beach?!”

“Yeah just like that. Well these people just want a picture with me.”

“Oh. Well why are they outside then?” Delilah furrowed her eyebrows, confused.

“Maybe they don’t like ice cream,” Elliana suggested. At that the two girls broke into giggles.

Shawn looked back over his shoulder and turned to face you. “What do we do? Should we stay here and see if they go away? Oh god I don’t want to take the girls out in that. Oh shit. But I think the crowd is growing. Ugh fuck. I’m sorry I-”

“Shawn,” you interrupted him “First off, stop dropping f-bombs the girls are right there. Second you have nothing to apologize for. You couldn’t have known this would happen. We’ve had a great day so far and I refuse to let this ruin it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, going into problem solving mode. “You’re right, you’re right. Okay. Well, um, let’s go then. I’ll go out first. And then a few minutes later you follow with the girls. Maybe that way they’ll stay out of your way. I’ll meet you at the car.”

You didn’t like the thought of leaving him with that group alone. Normally he’d have security with him. “Babe, I don’t want to leave you alone -”

“Y/n I’ll be fine. It’s more important to me that you and the girls are okay.”

You were still unhappy and it must have shown on your face. Shawn leaned in and gave you a kiss. “I’ll meet you at the car - I promise.”

You let out a sigh, knowing he was right. “Ok fine,” you mumbled.

Shawn gave you a small smile then turned to the twins who were laughing to themselves. His smile grew a little more. “Ok girls. I’m going to go out and take some pictures, you’ll leave with mummy in a few minutes and I’ll meet you at the car, okay?”

“Ok!” the girls said in unison, prompting more giggles.

Shawn gave you one more kiss and then left. When the door opened you could hear calls of his name and saw bright flashes go off. Then the door closed behind him and it went quiet again.

You let the girls play around a little more and took the next few minutes to collect yourself. After waiting a little longer, you told the girls it was time to go and walked out the door, Elliana’s hand in your left hand, and Delilah’s in your right.

As soon as you stepped foot out the door, you noticed your plan didn’t work. You hadn’t allowed enough time for Shawn to draw the paparazzi away from the door, so now you stood behind Shawn with the girls, surrounded by cameras. As soon as you stepped out the door you heard calls directed towards you and the twins.

“Hey y/n over here!”

“Y/n how’s the family?”

“Are those your daughters?”

“Look over here!”

You’ve always hated crowds, and you could feel a panic attack coming but when you felt the girls latch on to your legs, your entire focus shifted. They had never been in this big of a crowd before and they were terrified. Delilah was crying and Elliana was shaking. Shawn immediately noticed you three and was over in a second. He picked up Elliana and she clung to him. You picked up Delilah and whispered soothing words while she wrapped her small arms around your neck.

Shawn kept one arm wrapped tightly around Elliana and put his free hand on your lower back. He started leading you through the sea of people. At this point, both girls were crying and the paps were showing no signs of going away. You began the walk down the block and it felt much longer than the when you walked to the ice cream shop.

You were trying your best to calm Delilah down, but she was scared, same goes with her sister. Shawn was increasingly losing his patience and was growing more and more frustrated with the cameras. He kept asking them to leave as politely as he could. It wasn’t until one of the guys reached a hand out that he snapped.

A skinny guy with a mustache reached a hand out and grabbed on to Elliana’s arm. He tugged a little and Elliana cried out. “Daddy he’s hurting me!”

Shawn lost it. He turned on the man, forcing Ellie out of his grasp, and punched him in the face, almost knocking the man over.

“Don’t you DARE touch my daughter!” he practically growled out. You’d never seen your husband so mad. Pure fury was written across his face. But Shawn wasn’t done. He turned back to the rest and spit out, “Get the fuck away from us. ALL OF YOU.”

All of the men were stunned into silence. Even the girls stopped crying and paused, unsure of what their dad was doing. He gently grabbed your arm this time and pushed the four of you the few feet left to the car. No one followed you.

You both quickly buckled the girls in and then you hopped in the front. Shawn swiftly pulled away from the curb and drove back towards your house. You turned in your chair to turn back to the girls.

“You okay loves?” you looked back and forth between them both.

“I’m tired,” Ellie whispered. Delilah nodded in agreement, letting out a yawn before looking at you with big eyes, “The mean guys aren’t going to follow us home right?”

“Mummy I was scared,” Ellie added.

You put a hand on her knee. “No baby, you’re safe now. You’re both safe now. Sleep girls. I’ll wake you up when we get home so you can take a bath.”

They just nodded and closed their eyes, drained from the energy the afternoon had required.

You turned in your seat and looked to your husband. His grip was tight on the wheel and his eyes were laser focused on the road. His mouth was set in a tight line, and you could see the tension flowing through his body. You placed a hand on his knee and opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off.

“Not right now y/n.” You closed your mouth. “I just need a second. I don’t want to take my frustration with those assholes out on you.”

You just nodded. You understood where he was coming from. When you saw that man touch your daughter the only stopping you from going mama bear on his ass was the fact the Delilah was still whimpering in your ear. But now that the adrenaline had left your body, you were just relieved the whole thing was behind you.

The rest of the car ride was silent. And when you finally pulled into the driveway you let out a sigh of relief. Shawn took Ellie in and you took Lilah, both of you deciding to leave the beach stuff for tomorrow. You hated having to wake the girls, but you wanted to wash the salt and sand off their body. Shawn started a bath while you gently woke up both girls. With his help, you got them both washed up and ready for a nap rather quickly. You tucked both of the girls in, and as soon as their heads hit the pillow they fell asleep. You went to go take a shower, but Shawn stayed in the girls room, not feeling comfortable leaving them alone yet.

You had just gotten in the shower when Shawn opened the door to the bathroom. Without saying a word he stripped his clothes off and joined you in the shower. He wrapped his arms around your waist and tucked his head in your neck, hands easing up and down your back.

There was nothing sexual about the actions, he simply needed comfort. You turned around so that Shawn was under the water, still saying nothing. He unraveled himself from your body when you ran the bar of soap over his chest and washed the shampoo out of his hair.

After you were both clean, you both dried off and got in your pajamas. Even though it was only three in the afternoon, you both crawled into bed and cuddled into each other. You both laid their silently, just comforting each other, when Shawn spoke first.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice was muffled by your hair.

“Baby don’t apologize,” you hushed him.

“No, y/n, this was my fault. Did you see how scared Delilah was? Or Ellie’s face when that son of a bitch touched her? Y/n if something had happened to her -”

“But Shawn,” you cut him off, “nothing happened. It’s okay. Yes they caught us by surprise and gave us a little scare -”

“Oh my gosh are you okay?” Shawn cut you off this time.

“Yea, of course.”

“I was so occupied with Ellie that I totally forgot to check in with you. I know that you hate crowds and when I had turned to make sure you were ok the guy grabbed her. I left you alone even when I knew you were scared. I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible husband and an even worse father.”

You patiently waited for him to stop rambling, knowing that he had to say how he was feeling. Once it seemed like he was done, you lifted his chin and planted a soft kiss on his forehead, then nose, followed by both his cheeks and finally his lips.

“None of that. I will not have you talk bad about the love of my life. You are an amazing father. You can’t prevent the girls from every getting scared, but you can make sure that they know you are a safe place and that’s exactly what you did. The girls knew once we saw you that they would be ok. And you are a fantastic husband. If you had ignored Elliana to focus on me, you wouldn’t be the man I married. Ellie should come first. Always. Shawn I’m ok, the girls are ok and you are ok.”

“I’m mad we ruined our family day,” he retorted, sounding defeated.

“You didn’t ruin our family day babe. The girls had a blast at the beach and I did too. Even the ice cream was delicious. We ended on a sour note, but it didn’t ruin our whole day. Once the girls wake up, we can have a night in and a movie on the couch. How does that sound?”

Shawn looked at you with utter love in his eyes. He gently pushed you off his chest and onto the bed so that he was hovering over you. “What did I do to deserve you?” He gave you a kiss. “God I love you y/n. So so so much.” He gave you another kiss, this time deepening it - only pulling away when he was out of breath. He then went on to plant kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

He pulled away with a grin. “I love you Mrs. Mendes.”

You smiled widely at that. “I love you Mr. Mendes.”

“And I love your plan, but there’s just one thing I want to add.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“When the girls wake up we’ll have a night in, order pizza and watch a movie.” He paused and smirked at you. “But I estimate that we still have an hour before the girls wake up, and I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He grinded against your lap and you gasped. “So before our girls wake up, I want to make sweet, passionate love to my sexy wife.”

Your whole body lit up at his words, and you had to work to keep in a deep moan. “Oh Shawn, please.”

He smiled against your mouth and gave you a deep kiss. Needless to say, by the time the girls woke up you were both in a much better mood.

A/N: Whew, that was a long one! Thanks to the anon that sent that in, I loved the idea! I appreciate all feedback. xoxo

#shawn mendes #dad!shawn #shawn mendes imagine #dad shawn #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn imagine

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draayder · 5 years

Note

I'm curious to see you answer all those OC asks for Kanemoto. Or as many as you can.

oh boy here we fucking go

What is your OC’s favorite color?Purple, but he generally likes anything in the cool range

Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?He started collecting coins with his dad when he was a kid and while he’s not an avid collector he’ll still pick up a neat one if he finds it

What kind of things is your OC allergic to?he’s mildly allergic to dogs

What kind of clothing does your OC wear?he’s pretty much always dressed up, colored suits are about as flashy as it gets though

What is your OC’s first memory?He’s got flashes of a family breakfast when he was very young, though he can’t remember his mom’s face anymore. She left shortly after that

What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?He likes cranes a lot, and thinks frogs and toads are gross

What element would your OC be?Water/Dark

What is your OC’s theme song? fuck dude I suck at these

Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?nope I don’t ever do those

What deadly sin would best represent your OC?man that’s tricky for Kanemoto.... probably greed since he easily had enough money to just stop being a yakuza and still pay for all his dad’s treatment when his last like 3 families fell apart but he just keeps joining back up. He’s got this hangup about being absolutely sure he could cover ANYTHING that comes up

What are your OC’s hobbies?He likes to read, historical fiction is a favorite because he is a big nerd. He also has a few pet beetles and when he’s busy he sends his boys around to take care of them

How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?he’s pretty damn patient, he knows he ain’t great in a fight so he doesn’t jump into them often which Saejima appreciates as a leadership quality

What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?Japanese Bisexual Cis Man

What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?Surprisingly he likes pizza and has a fondness for mochi. He does not like ketchup which Akanishi takes great personal offense to

If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?He’s already got a few beetles which he considers ideal because they take up very little room, make very little noise, and he can buy beetle jelly at donki

What does your OC smell like? he wears nice colognes most the time and favors citrus scents

How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?Kanemoto is yakuza babey. He got accepted to college and was on his way to becoming a lawyer but his dad’s medical issues forced him to drop out and the cost of everything pushed him into that line of work, so he kind of got stuck in a “being a yakuza is my job and my only option” mindset even after he had plenty of cash. He enjoys the business side of things and runs things fairly legit if you ignore the massive money laundering and tax evasion. He would rather die than work in fast food again

What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?He’s got this irrational fear that everything’s gonna fall apart financially. Outside of that he’s got the usual job fears of getting shot or knifed in his sleep, but he’s more scared of the pain than the dying part of it. His strength is that he’s got a rock solid grip on his composure

What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?he’s a whatever song’s on the radio kind of guy. He was so busy with school and then work and then yakuza that he feels like he kind of missed the bus on a lot of songs guys his age are really into, and he struggles to concentrate if music is playing so his musical knowledge is pretty limited

If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?n/a

What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?puts up with stuff for too long, a big “lying for their own good” kind of guy, a little judgmental. he does not like these freshly recruited chinpira who won’t learn their damn manners and think since they’re yakuza they shouldn’t try to play by business etiquette when dealing with civilians

What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?he was a stellar student and a total dweeb

What is a random fact about your OC? He and his ex-wife split amicably and she runs a lgbt bar now which he frequents

What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?He thinks a lot about the meaning of it all and decided it’s about how you treat those you care about, so he’s gonna give it his all

What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fancharacter? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?honestly he was 100% someone to bounce Akanishi off of that no one could accuse me of making OOC when I did

Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact) and why?He’s got a couple, his dad was obviously a huge influence on him and he was proud to give him as long of a life as he did, Saejima’s his first boss after his father passed away and let him leapfrog a lot of the normal drudgery he’d have to do starting from the bottom, and Akanishi has become very important whether he wants him to be or not. The least important to him was probably Dojima who was his first boss but also died within a year of him joining up

What kind of childhood did your character have?His mom left when he was about 4 or 5, he’s not really sure where she went or what happened and he’s content enough not knowing. His dad was a great father and did amazing as a single parent, they didn’t have a ton of money but it was enough

What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?tends to pull at his tie/collar when particularly nervous but he’s got a pretty strong grip on himself

If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?oh fuck that’s a hard one..... I think he’d go simple with like “Kanemoto Sho, loyal friend, devoted son”

Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?he’s been married and would definitely be open to it again but he hasn’t really pursued anyone, it doesn’t line up with his line of work and anyone in the yakuza tends not to be the marrying type. He’s too old for kids at this point and once again the line of work just doesn’t agree

What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?the first time he properly got his shit wrecked as a young yakuza in a street fight, he had to lie to his dad and say he got mugged and sent to the hospital. It kind of set him up to think he never wanted to be in a position where he had to fight. His fave memory is a fishing trip he took with his dad during high school

If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?now you’d think the answer would be “his dad back” but he’s a pretty big believer that when it’s someone’s time that’s just how it is and that he provided the best life he could for him. If he could just snap his fingers and make it happen it’d definitely be getting strong enough to be a real contender in the yakuza realm. If that wasn’t possible, he’d like his scar and hearing fixed

Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why? he avoids it when possible, but he has shot a few people in very high stakes negotiations. He’s a good shot but prefers not to carry a gun due to the police risk

What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?the Saejima family has drinking nights and occasional other excursions but they’re fairly laid back. However he gets dragged to most of the Majima family events by Akanishi and ends up playing baby sitter with Nishida when Minami is breathing fire and Akanishi is lighting sparklers off of it and oh fuck oh god Majima brought fireworks????

How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?He’s not super imaginative but is a worrier. Can’t really blame him with how many times the family he’s in has crumbled around him

What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?he does not need more money but he still spends a lot of time getting more, tho now it’s more for the family than taking much of a cut for himself. He’s willing to work his ass off for that

What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?So Kanemoto has a big complicated money laundering scheme that Saejima doesn’t fully understand but it gives the family a lot more clean money to use than anyone really expectsHe owns several real estate firms, and the employees are ‘encouraged’ to eat at the restaurants across the street that he also owns, and to spend time at the hostess clubs he owns. They’re given large bonuses to go out to these clubs via happy hours. They also are encouraged to spend time at the golf club that Kanemoto owns, and the hostesses are told to bring their dates to there as well. A cut of the profits of everything gets taken back in by the family as it’s now been successfully laundered and very very hard to trace

What would your character do with a million dollars? what he’s currently doing with a million dollars, making it into more money

What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?he’s got an embarrassingly bachelor fridge with some leftovers and beer, he is not a good cook and spends most of his time out dining with business people or working late and ordering in. He keeps his room clean, his nightstand has whatever book he’s currently reading and a pair of readers that he isn’t thrilled with needing to wear. His garbage has a surprising amount of condoms

Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?Akanishi is dragging him to a bar for karaoke and he doesn’t bother dressing up more than usual, but then Saejima is there and he regrets it

What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?it takes a lot to get him really angry but when it happens he is like incoherent rage and yelling (see here)

Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from? he’s got some minor ones from a couple scuffles but the major one on his head is from a grenade that went off near him. He’s completely deaf in that ear and is annoyed that he’s lost his normal business man look and is more clearly a yakuza

What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?this is more dumbass than offensive but he had very little experience with trans people before he got assigned kyoudai with Akanishi so he definitely said some stupid shit. He had a handle on MtF since he’d been around some trans women and other gnc individuals at his ex-wife’s Sachiko’s bar Oniyuri but didn’t put two and two together to figure out that FtM was also a thing, which lead to some major confusion when Akanishi said he was trans Akanishi, dropping his pants at the hot spring the first day they met: Oh yeah I’m trans that ain’t gonna be a problem, right?Kanemoto: so you’re... a woman?Akanishi: No!!!!Kanemoto: Oh sorry, so you’re a man...Akanishi: Yes!Kanemoto: ...who’s transitioning to female?Akanishi: NO!!!!! Literally the opposite get it together man!

How does your character react/ accept criticism?Depends on who it comes from, but he takes it pretty seriously.

If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?he likea the taste

Your character is given a voodoo doll of themself. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works?yeah he’d try pinching it to see if he felt anything and then probably keep it around to scratch his own back (and hide it under as many locks as he can so Akanishi can’t get his hands on it)

Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?he has no talent for art

What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?as mentioned previously his mom left when he was young and his dad raised him as a single parent, his dad was hugely impactful on his life

Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?he’s got a sweet tooth but never really got sugar rushes

If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count? If he knew with certainty that he would die in 3 days he would spend every minute getting everything in as much order as he could to keep the Saejima family secure and just spending time with his closets friends. He’d rather leave a positive impact on them than try to avoid death, he’d consider doing so to be unforgivably selfishHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGH that was a lot

#yakuza #yakuza ocs #kanemoto #akanishi #siketreeker

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dbzebra · 6 years

Text

Not Just A Fling

Authors Note: So a few weeks ago, someone in my discord chat psted a fic that within the very first paragraph had Goten and Marron break up and say they were just a fling. Safe to say I was a lil butthurt. In response, I made this out of pure spite. It’s cheesy as fuck but at this point idc lmao

(Also, Marron is only 1 year younger than Goten as opposed to 3 in this. So shes 17 while hes 18. Just keep that in mind)

Pairing: Goten x Marron

Time Period: 11 years after Buu / 1 year post EOZ

Words: 1958

Son Goten stared at his now mostly empty bedroom. Boxes were stacked on the floor next to his old dresser. He still couldn't believe that he was going away to college tomorrow. He spent his whole life on Mt. Paozu and now he was leaving. At least temporarily. He could never truly move away. City life was not a permanent thing for him.

Until senior year, the eighteen year-old had no intention in going to college-and his parents were okay with that. If he really wanted to he could've just asked Bulma for a job at Capsule Corporation and she would've gave him one in a heartbeat. But boring office life wasn't his thing at all. He'd go crazy after a week of filing papers and answering phones about the same old crap. So he figured he'd give it a shot. College life was supposed to be so much better than high school, right?

At least, that's what Trunks told him. Goten's lifelong partner in crime was just finishing his freshman year at West City University, and the boys couldn't wait to dorm together.

Marron was sitting on the bed, happily twirling her golden locks in her fingers as Goku and Goten made the finishing touchings on packing. A part of him couldn’t believe they’d been dating for three years already.

"All set buddy?" Goku said, placing the last box down.

"Yeah, I'm good. Can you go check on Mom for me? She might still be a mess."

Goku smiled and went to find his wife. "Good idea."

He was going to miss the early morning training routine with his younger son. Goten had restarted his training back when he and Marron started going out a few years back. Nothing made Goku more proud than to see the great men his boys had become. Though despite not having his father’s extra push, Goten promised to keep up his training. He vowed to one day surpass his father.

“Trunks is comin’ right?” Marron asked him. She had on a white blouse, a pink skirt and matching shoes. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and back.

“Yeah, he just pulled up. He’s takin’ some stuff to the place now so it’ll be less of a load tomorrow.”

Goten went out into the living room to see his dad comforting a distraught Chi-Chi. The day she never thought would come finally came. Her baby boy was leaving her for good and never coming back. At least in her mind he was. Despite everything Goku said, it seemed to only make Chi-Chi cry more.

"Come on, honey. Goten can visit any time with Instant Transmission. Besides, you didn't cry this much when Gohan left..."

"Because... I-I still had m-m-my baby... And n-now... he's leaving!" Chi-Chi wailed and melted back into sobs while Goku rubbed her back.

Goten glanced to Goku who smiled sadly. Goten flashed his father an apologetic look before going outside to meet Trunks who had just pulled up in his capsule car.

He greeted Trunks with a signature fist-bump and led the older Saiyan inside.

"Classes start Tuesday right? Because of the holiday Monday." Goten asked as they walked in.

Marron waved to Trunks who nodded back.

"Yeah, but the real shit don't even start until like two weeks later. Syllabus week is a pain but you literally just gotta show up."

"Hey that's the part I'm good at. The rest? Not so much."

Trunks chuckled. "You would say that."

"How's the place lookin? It's all fixed up right?"

"Man, it's gonna be wild. You and me on our own, we finally get to live! The campus is sick too. We got a townhouse all to ourselves and it's only a block from the food court!" Trunks went on about what it was like. He roomed by himself last year, and had a blast. But this year- this year would be another level.

"I'll probably be at the food court more than the dorm!" Goten joked. "That place'll be outta business by the end of the month!"

"...Dude, I'm telling you. Our place is gonna be chick city!" Trunks put an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

Marron flinched.

Goten shook his head, laughing. "Do you hear yourself? You sound like a frat boy when you're the furthest thing from it. Besides, I'm spoken for. Right babe?" He looked to his beautiful girlfriend.

She cracked a smile at Goten's joke, but her face hid a tinge of sadness... or was it worry? He couldn't tell.

"Mare? Something wrong?" He asked. He tuned Trunks out as he kept carrying on about the possibilities.

Marron took a deep breath and wiped her eyes before looking up at Goten sadly. "Trunks is right... One of these days... you'll meet some hot sorority girl with much more experience and forget all about me..." She sniffled.

Goten looked stunned while Trunks instantly bad. "Marron, I was just..."

She shook her head, looking away from him. "Maybe it's better that we… that just save ourselves the heartbreak and-"

Goten gently cut her off with a kiss. She was stunned at first but soon relaxed into it. Goten pulled the blonde to her feet and continued kissing her to show how much she meant to him. Marron felt all the doubt in her mind wash away as she kissed him back.

Once they broke apart, Marron gaped up at him breathlessly. Her heart was still caught in her throat.

"Mare, I love you." He said with that same smile that always melted her heart. "You're the only girl I need. I don't care how many other girls there are, I only want you. You're not some silly fling to me. You're my best friend. I love you. And when you come to WCU next year, I'll show the most amazing girlfriend in the world to everyone on campus."

Marron felt the pain and worry leave her heart as relief washed over her. It was all in her head after all. "I love you too. I'm sorry, I just- I just thought about losing you and I..."

"Never in a million years."

Trunks grinned and put his hands on his hips. "I figured. More girls for me then! With my good looks they won't keep their hands off me!"

"Yeah until you open your mouth and then they run for their lives." Goten replied back with a grin of his own. Trunks rolled his eyes and chuckled.

Marron sighed happily and laid back on the bed. "Come to think it, dating a college boy is pretty hot."

“So is dating head cheerleader.”

"Gross." Trunks gagged. "Get a room."

"We're already in my room." Goten joked.

"Oh shut up!" Trunks fired back and turned to send a quick message on his phone. Work stuff. He hated having to work at Capsule Corp. That was partly the reason he enrolled in school despite not needing to -to get his mom off his back. Honestly if he had an out, he'd take it in a heartbeat. "So seriously though, we gotta plan how this place is gonna look!"

"We need a sick game room. Oh! And a second game room." Goten added.

"And a gravity chamber!"

"Don't forget a guest room."

"Why? For when Marron visits?"

"Nah, she'd sleep in my room." Goten turned to wink at her. Blushing, Marron smiled and winked back.

Trunks smirked. "We'd better make sure it's soundproof then."

Marron coughed and hide her blushing face while Goten laughed with a hand behind his head.

"That's what I thought." Trunks smirked.

The blonde then noticed a small white box on the side of his bed. Goten saved that box for last. It was probably the most important thing of them all.

"What's in this?"

Goten grinned. "Take a look."

She opened it up and gasped.

It was everything from their dates over the years, including stuff that dated back to childhood. The movie ticket from their first date was on top. Photo booth pictures, arcade tickets, toys from when they were kids, and more. And most of all, a used-up old Ring Pop wrapped in an old piece of paper.

Marron could cry. Of happiness this time. In fact she almost did. "You actually kept this?"

She unwrapped the old piece of paper and giggled. In blue crayon was an agreement on the rules of the game.

'Marriage Rules.'

Rule 1: be nice

Rule 2: hold hands

Rule 3: step on any icky spiders

Rule 4: kiss on the cheek once a day

However rule 4 was crossed out in black crayon and said 'no cooties' under it.

Below the rules was their little signatures next to each other in sloppy writing.

Goten came over her shoulder and grinned. "I still laugh whenever I look at that."

"Dummy. A beautiful girl offers to kiss you and you turn it down?" She flipped her hair behind her back, feigning anger.

"I was seven! Besides, that's one of the best parts now."

"Oh yeah?" Marron purred and leaned closer to him. "Prove it."

Trunks groaned before anything could go any further. "Jesus you two. Could you knock it off for five seconds? I'm gonna throw up."

Marron giggled again and looked to the old Ring Pop. Goten ate it within an hour. She remembered being upset with him at the time. But still- he kept it.

"You remember all this, right?"

"I remember you forcing him, Marron. And you made me be the dog!"

"Can it." She quipped, smirking at him. Trunks only laughed. "Of course I remember." She smiled.

Those days of childhood were like a distant memory now.

Goten hugged Marron from behind and then spun her around to kiss her forehead. "We should try the real thing one of these days."

Marron looked up at him in shock, her cheeks flushing pink. "...What did you just say?"

Trunks couldn't believe his ears. Did he just hear what he think he just heard? He blinked, and then blinked again. He stared at Goten similar to how Marron was.

Goten nodded and kissed her again. He took a deep breath. He didn’t even feel nervous. Not even a bit. "...Marron, will you marry me?”

Marron stared up at him, covering her mouth with her hand as happy tears freely flowed now. Every ounce of her wanted to scream with joy as he continued babbling.

“Once I finish school... we can have a real wedding. Like the one you've always dreamed about. I know it’s sudden, a-and I don't have a ring yet, but-"

Marron flung her arms around Goten, cutting him off with a deep kiss. All the joy in the world couldn’t describe what she was feeling right now. What she had wanted since she was a child finally came true. She was the happiest girl alive. She pulled back, smiling as bright as could be. “Yes. A million times yes. Let's do it. Let's get married."

Goten grinned wider than he ever did and cheered. He picked Marron up and swung his girlfriend-no, fiancee around in his arms, laughing together. After another long blissful kiss, Goten put the blonde back on her own two feet.

She rested her head on his shoulder as neither moved from their embrace. "I love you so much Goten..."

"I love you too, Mare." He smiled and buried his face into hair.

Trunks ran up and congratulated his two best friends with a big group hug. The best part was-- he got to be the best man. His speech was gonna be amazing.

They were really engaged. The next part-- telling their parents. It was a small step in starting their new life together, but they were ready for anything.

#goten #marron #marten #goten x marron #my rarepair #this is what happens when i get triggered #i do the opposite #sorry not sorry #lmao #jj writes

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romcomathon2016 · 6 years

Text

The Heartbreak Kid (USA, 2007)

Predictions: Alex predicted that some people got together, but one of them had a kid who was determined to break them up. Kat was too heartbroken about America to make a prediction. Happy Fourth of July week, guys………

Plot: Ohhhh boy. Oh boy, oh boy, this was definitely not what Alex predicted, and it was in fact even worse. Are ya ready? Ben Stiller is a slightly marriage-phobic man who seems to regret his marriage-phobia when he attends the wedding of his ex-fiancée. Then he runs into a seemingly normal Malin Akerman, when she has her purse stolen on the street. Though Ben Stiller fails to get her purse back, he does charm her, and after some shenanigans and gross commentary from his (also real-life!) dad, Jerry Stiller, Malin Akerman and Ben Stiller start dating.

For a few weeks, things seem to be going well. They make out constantly, all over San Francisco. But this happy period is soon interrupted by Malin Akerman’s news that her job wants to send her to Rotterdam. However, apparently they don’t send married people. Ding ding ding! Faced with the decision of either breaking up or getting hitched, and encouraged by his father and his married pal Rob Corddry, Ben Stiller decides WHY NOT and takes the marriage plunge. "WHY NOT"? "WHY NOT"?????? Dude, you have known this girl six weeks. You haven’t even had sex, and you decide to get married???? But reader, he does, and, well...off they go to Cabo for their honeymoon.

Unsurprisingly, things start to go awry almost immediately. Ben Stiller finds that Malin Akerman is a crazy person in bed, likes to hold hands while she eats (????), has a deviated septum because of a coke habit, has 26K in debt, and doesn’t actually have a paying job. She is essentially a trash monster disguised in human clothes. After Malin Akerman suffers a truly sensational sunburn and gets in a fight with Ben Stiller over the fact that he sided with the “Mexican ozone” instead of her, Ben Stiller realizes he may have been too hasty. He roams the resort alone and runs into Michelle Monaghan, a perfectly normal person who’s there celebrating her aunt and uncle’s vow renewal.

Over the next few days, while Malin Akerman recovers from her sunburn, Ben Stiller sneaks off to spend time with Michelle Monaghan and her Mississippi relatives. Of course, they have no idea that he’s actually on his honeymoon, due to some misunderstanding/his, you know, NOT MENTIONING IT. They think — due to a weird joke from the beginning of the movie — that he’s a widower whose wife was murdered.

Things come to a head eventually, when two of Michelle Monaghan’s cousins spot Ben Stiller having breakfast with his alive wife. He is forced to come clean to both women. Michelle Monaghan and her family leave, and Malin Akerman burns up all of his things, including his passport. So Ben Stiller is stuck in Mexico for like a month, ranting to an old man on the beach and looking very ratty. Desperate to get back to the States to see Michelle Monaghan, Ben Stiller sneaks across the border with a group of undocumented immigrants. (YUP. For those keeping score, this is now the second white dude we have witnessed sneaking across the Mexican border as a lolarious romcom joke. WTF.)

He gets to Mississippi, only to discover that Michelle Monaghan got married to her ex-boyfriend, and is chased from her home. So he leaves the States for Cabo permanently, deciding to open up a store there. Apparently it grew on him during his exile. Eighteen months later, who should appear but Michelle Monaghan, admitting that she’s left her husband and wants to grab dinner. “That sounds great!” Ben Stiller gushes, but he is a LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE (AGAIN) because it turns out he’s now married to?? dating?? Eva Longoria. AND THAT'S THE END OF THE MOVIE. THE END OF THE MOVIE!!!!

...Except for the end credits, in which Malin Akerman is having sex with a donkey. Don’t ask.

Best Scene: Weeeell. The scene at the end when Michelle Monaghan turns up is...kind of nice? Before you find out freaking Ben Stiller is now with freaking Eva Longoria. But to be honest, there really aren't a lot of great scenes to choose from. :|

Worst Scene: EVERYTHING. Particularly when Malin Akerman and Ben Stiller have sex. It is bizarre, it is so much, and it is not even especially funny. Sigh.

Best Line: “But you know what? If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a darn thing.” — Malin Akerman, after telling Ben Stiller about her cocaine habit, her debt, her not-job… We laughed, in spite of our horror.

Worst Line: We could not possibly choose.

Highlights of the Watching Experience: No one should watch this. Honestly. No one. There are no highlights, only lowlights. How does Malin Akerman choose her projects?! Why is she always this person?! Why is this movie filled with rampant casual homophobia?! Why are none of the “jokes” funny at all?!

How Many POC in the Film: Carlos Mencia, a resort employee who is, uh, the worst? He tries to get Malin Akerman to give him a handjob by pretending to be Ben Stiller, so yeah, we feel pretty comfortable saying he’s the worst. And some other Mexicans that Ben Stiller stood near, we suppose. NOT GREAT, MOVIE. NOT GREAT.

Alternate Scenes: There is no way to salvage this film. It's amazing this script was not only greenlit but went through multiple drafts. Dear lord.

Was the Poster Better or Worse than the Film: It has to be better. Any poster would be better.

(Turns out, the poster could almost be for Alex's prediction! Perhaps Ben Stiller is with Malin Akerman's mom, who had Malin Akerman at a very young age. And now Ben Stiller has to be stepdad to Malin Akerman, whose outlook on her mom's remarriage is...exceptionally immature. Probably also not a very good movie, but one we would maybe have preferred to watch over this one.)

Score: 2 out of 10 married-after-six-weeks smooches. Don't do it, people. Do not get married after six weeks.

Ranking: 126, out of the 144 movies we've watched so far. Oh my god, there are almost twenty movies worse than this one. What have we been watching?!

#the heartbreak kid #ben stiller #malin akerman #michelle monaghan #2007

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ayearofpike · 6 years

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The Last Vampire

Pocket Books, 1994 193 pages, 13 chapters ISBN 0-671-87264-8 LOC: CPB Box no. 1490 vol. 7 OCLC: 30146931 Released May 1, 1994 (per B&N)

Sita is a vampire, the last of her kind as far as she knows. But someone is after her, someone who has realized that she has far too much wealth and history to be as young as she appears. As she traces it back to find the ringleader, she realizes that she’s being hunted by another. Can she outwit him and survive? The book doesn’t say, but since there’s seven sequels I’m gonna say “probably.”

Ugh. This book totally killed my momentum. I didn’t want to read it, I didn’t want to keep reading it, and I don’t want to write this post now. Because now that I’m getting here, I’m realizing it’s nothing but a slow and painful slide downhill into the thorns that mark the end of Pike’s salad days with Simon & Schuster. The rest of his output under the Archway is eight sequels (at least two of which he’s said he didn’t want to write), two books of short stories, seven new novels that suffer from being rushed and squeezed into the gaps between Spooksville, and The Lost Mind. Excuse me if I don’t jump for joy at what’s offered in this five-year span.

Honestly, there’s really not a lot of story here. Maybe I can actually keep the summary short.

Sita starts out narrating in first-person present tense, which indicates (if past works are a factor of future performance) that she’s about to die. On the other hand, there’s not a concrete mode that she’s offering as a recording system; she says that she “send[s] out these words ... because it is time” (3). This particular series is one that Pike claims to have written almost entirely on autopilot, like it was available somewhere in the ether and he was the channel to get it onto the page. So we might believe that he hears the narration as he’s writing it, but the rest of the story is a little clumsy for me to believe that.

Sita doesn’t actually identify herself right away. In fact, we get two fake names before we learn the one she was born with. But it’s not from the source we would expect, given that as we meet her she is under investigation by a private detective. He points out her varied and widespread holdings, and how some of them go back more years than she claims to be old — including passports. How does he not mention some of the names on these documents? We’re supposed to believe she’s kept a fake name that she says up front she doesn’t care about long enough for somebody to get suspicious? But I’m getting pedantic and overanalytical, which is going to make me spend more time on this book than I want to. I mean moreso.

So she kills him, of course, but he doesn’t die before revealing he has a son. She can’t get into his computer despite having vast swathes of life experience and knowing more about computers than most people, so instead of taking it and brute-force hacking the password she decides to ask the son for help. So what’s the best way to do this? Vampire high school, twenty-odd years before Twilight. Only rather than the mere hundred-something child Edward Cullen, we have a five-fucking-thousand-year-old enrolling in high school so that she can seduce a kid into giving up a password that there’s no evidence he knows.

And then she gets hungry, so she drives to a truck stop in California and seduces a long-haul driver, not so much that they actually get it on but enough that she can drink some of his blood and knock him out. Sita isn’t a killer. Even though she just killed a dude and has no compunction about killing if she has to and could have DRANK SOME GODDAMNED BLOOD FROM A DUDE SHE ALREADY KILLED INSTEAD OF MAKING ANOTHER WITNESS

So she goes to school and is in class with the son, Ray, who has a girlfriend. Is that an obstacle? Not for a timeless unfeeling vampire! Neither is a PE class outside in the sun, where all she has to do to survive is wear giant dark sunglasses. Hang on, though — I actually don’t have a problem with authors retrofitting classic monsters with abilities that historically have been weaknesses, or even something totally useless like sparkles and being good at baseball. It’s pretty stupid to assume that one book by one Irish guy is the end-all be-all of worldwide vampire lore. I’m OK with her being outside in the sun.

The PE class is where she meets a sickly and sensitive young man named Seymour, and they connect immediately even though he’s only in the book for five pages at this point. She feels a connection with Ray, too, something primal and ancient, which is the only possible way I’m gonna forgive her not just grabbing the computer and getting the fuck out of Dodge. Like, Sita doesn’t even know what she’s doing in this town in Oregon in the first place (she’s always preferred warmer climates; I don’t know if that’s here or later), so maybe it’s fate or karma or some other unseen force drawing her here. Whatever it is, Ray must feel it too. She cons him into helping her move furniture late at night, but first she has to move all the furniture out of her house and into the garage. And then she has a dream about her backstory.

It all started when Sita, a seven-year-old blonde blue-eyed white girl in ancient India (seriously), had a dear friend, an eight-month-pregnant teenager seven years her senior, who had just died. Some spooky voodoo priest invoked a monster into her to scare off whatever plague was killing everyone, and it ate his face before taking residence inside the dead baby, which came to life in the corpse womb. Sita knows there’s something not right here, so her dad hands her a knife and tells her if she knows the baby’s evil, she has to be the one to kill it. Did I mention Sita is seven fucking years old? So of course she doesn’t, and the baby grows up and is smart and handsome and well-respected. But then the dudes who saw his birth start to go missing, and Sita is the last one he comes for. By this time she’s married with a kid, and the undead baby is, I don’t know, twelve, but he loves her and must have her. He offers her a choice: go with him and become like him, or die after watching him painfully and slowly kill her husband and daughter. Fucking tweens and their mood swings.

Sita wakes up when Ray comes over. They move furniture, then they drink wine, then they hot tub naked, then they don’t bang because Sita has compunctions or whatever all of a sudden. He mentions that he’s worried about his father, and she says hey, you have the password to his computer, right, so could you look at what he was working on right before he disappeared? Ray is not nearly suspicious enough about this, so they go to his office and Ray unlocks the file, which is apparently a Word document because writers don’t actually know dick about computerized records in 1994. Sita’s brilliant move here is: she tricks Ray into leaving, locks him out, and then copies the file onto a floppy disk before erasing most of it.

The file demonstrates the detective’s supremely idiotic decision to go around the back of the mysterious rich dude who is bankrolling his investigation in order to try to get more money out of the vampire. But still, there’s a fax number, and as @mildhorror has already put it so well I’m going to steal her analogy of “shitty texting.” (It’s even more awkward in Thirst, when Pike tries to clumsily retrofit it to email without changing anything else. Like, holy shit, you can check a Swiss email account in the US?) They arrange to meet on a dock, which Sita has planned so she can jump in the ocean and swim away if things go sideways. And they do: six people with automatic weapons pointing at her, another trained commando ready to do a full-body search. So Sita, with all her wisdom and sensory input and awesomeness ... just lets herself get kidnapped.

BUT THEN. Instead of riding the whole thing out so she can maybe get to whoever is above the investigator’s payer, she says she has to change her tampon and then kills one of the guards that goes into the bathroom with her and escapes with the other. At least she has the sense to threaten this dude into giving up a description before she kills him, and guess what: the mastermind behind the whole investigation is none other than her undead maker. Which, duh, but maybe I don’t have enough distance from this story.

She gets Seymour to pick her up and bring a change of clean clothes, and asks what his deal is being so sick. Turns out Seymour has HIV, from a bad blood transfusion. Don’t worry, 1994 teens, it’s nothing gross like gay sex, as Sita so sensitively asks. He takes her back to her car, and she immediately goes to Ray and tells him that he might be in danger. First smart thing this all-knowing immortal has done. After all, the first vampire, whose powers dwarf hers, has employed Ray’s dad, and if he’s gone missing it sure makes sense that the dude would go after family. If he really is the reincarnation of her husband from five thousand years ago, it makes sense that she’d care about him and want to save him like before. BUT THEN she makes him go with her to her mansion (which is a different house from the one he moved her shit into earlier, which only makes Ray mildly curious) and fucks him to sleep. Seriously, she works his body to the point where she knows he’s going to sleep for a whole day, in the house that the first vampire probably knows about and is going to corner her in.

She dreams some more backstory, this time about the rise and fall of the vampires. Over the course of something like fifty years, they kidnap people and make more of themselves, until they have an army of a thousand. But then they hear about a dude named Krishna, who is supposed to be as powerful as a god. First Vampire doesn’t like that — someone stronger than him — so they go to beat him up. Only his hidden archer manages to kill a bunch of vampires before they can overwhelm Krishna’s numbers, and so they have to agree to a one-on-one, leader-on-leader battle. With flutes. A flute-off. Whoever can flute harder wins.

OK, yeah, and they’re trying to send snakes after the other one. Of course Krishna wins, and while First Vampire is poisoned into a coma, he tells her that he’ll protect her as long as she never makes another one. Then he says something to First Vampire, and heals him, and they all leave. But then not long after that vampires start dying, and Sita bails because she knows what’s coming. She’d heard a rumor that First Vampire was burned to death in Europe, but now I guess she knows it’s not true, because he’s standing outside at sunset when Ray wakes up. Sita goes to talk to him. He confirms that in order to die with Krishna’s grace, he has to destroy all the monsters he’s made. This is at odds with his protection on Sita if she never makes another one, but First Vampire has a plan. And a flute. He flutes so hard he knocks Ray out a third-story window from a hundred yards away, and now Sita has no choice but to turn her supposedly-reincarnated husband. Tricked again!

How is Sita going to trick him back? How can she kill the first vampire without dying herself? For that, our brilliant ageless tactitian ... needs Seymour’s help. I didn’t mention that everybody knows he’s a genius and a writer, so she figures that’s gotta be the only answer for finding a loophole, because, you know, increasing number of author self-inserts as we go along. He suggests that maybe Sita needs to get First Vampire in a situation where he thinks they’ll die together, but rig it so she doesn’t. To thank him, she cures his HIV with her vampire blood, but somehow knows how to do this without accidentally turning him into a vampire.

And then — as if I wasn’t annoyed knowing I’m gonna have to read this shit for like twenty more hours — we hit page 169.

What is Sita — the last vampire, the brilliant planner, the totally emotionless eternal being — going to do to kill the first vampire while somehow saving herself and Ray? Bombs. She steals a bunch of stuff from a construction site, then welds a six-inch steel plate under a couple of chairs, under which she rigs a bomb out of dynamite. She rigs another bomb next to another chair opposite the plate-chairs, where she’ll get him to sit. The plan is: he lights the fuse, but before the big bomb goes off, she triggers the little bomb, which will launch her and Ray out of the skylight and clear of the house before the big one blows it sky-high. No, don’t worry, it’s totally gonna work, she’s got everything figured out and never makes mistakes, as evidenced by this whole book so far.

Of course he sniffs it out, and of course he’s not going to let her escape. Until she tells him the last thing Krishna said to her: “Where there is love, there is my grace.” And he figures the only reason she turned Ray is because she loves him. You know, like you do to a high-school senior when you’re five thousand years old and you’ve known him two days. So he tells them to go, and they’re just clear of the house when the bomb blows up. Only — oh shit! — Sita takes a piano leg through the chest, and Ray can’t get the whole thing out.

And then the book ends.

Do you blame me for being annoyed?

So that’s The Last Vampire, which is clearly now a misnomer. Wonder if she’ll be the last one again as this series drags along. As I recall, the first three complete the story of First Vampire, and the next three sort of stand alone. Maybe one of those is better than I remember. I fuckin’ hope so, because as it stands I am not looking forward to plugging through the rest of this shit.

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lightsandlostbells · 6 years

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Skam Austin episode 4 reaction

part of me is laughing at the number of people in the Facebook comments asking, “Is this on Netflix?”

Episode 4

Clip 1 - Sad couch crew

I felt Tyler and Shay were being friendly to Megan here, not snide, at least on a superficial level. Though I guess you can take their excitement about the concert as passive-aggressiveness.

Tyler mentioning the Illuminati - how very Isak. TBH I really hope Julie is making both Shay and Tyler gay, since they’re dividing up the Isak moments between the two. I’m fine if Tyler doesn’t get the big season-long arc and it goes to Shay instead, I’d love to see her get it. But it’s just going to leave such a bad taste if they’ve made Isak into a wlw with no equivalent to the gay male representation that already existed, when there are many supposedly straight female characters who could be have been made into wlw. Especially the Vilde equivalent, who you could easily give a story about discovering and accepting her sexuality, or the Chris character, who didn’t have her own season and really didn’t have any substantial character issues suggested on the level of Vilde’s home life, and would benefit from a meaty arc.

I love Shay, she’s definitely one of the highlights of the show, I’m just tired of all the fighting over whether it’s better for S3 to focus on a gay boy or a lesbian and seeing a lot of gross shit in the discussions that’s either minimizing the importance of an f/f storyline because homophobia is worse for men in Texas/lesbians don’t have it that bad/lesbians are already represented on TV because they’re accepted by straight men who find them sexy/someone doesn’t care about lesbians and will only accept Evak 2.0, or minimizing the importance of Evak/another m/m storyline because Skam and the other remakes already have gay ships so don’t get greedy/gay men are already accepted because look at all the m/m on Tumblr and AO3/people only want another Evak because they’re disgusting fetishizers. It’s fucked up how most of these talk relies on the assumption that there can be only one LGBT story on Skam at a time and not pushing back on why it goes without question that S1 and a hypothetical S2 about Grace/Daniel can both be about heterosexual relationships.

Not to be one of those obnoxious people referencing YA novels in response to real life situations, but it makes me think of Katniss at the climax of Catching Fire when her group of Tributes is fighting the Career Tributes and she fires at the force field instead. Remember who the real enemy is.

That’s a joke, don’t take that too seriously.

Anyway I’m tired.

Considering how shitty he’s been acting previously, Tyler not laughing at Marlon’s comments and just deliberately eating a potato chip is a step up for him.

Speaking of the chips, they disappear in between shots and I guess Tyler could be putting the bag on the floor between takes or something but it looks like a regular old continuity error.

Marlon is a mega dick and I dislike him but I kinda can’t believe that I agreed with him about the team’s social standings vs. their practice time. But it was Marlon who said it so it sounded like a dick move.

See, he’s been such a dick that it’s hard to feel sorry for him! But also he’s in the right to feel hurt about the concert.

I don't have much to say except he is the least convincing person to be talking about how he’s not upset and he doesn’t care. He’s so obviously pissed.

There’s just not a shred of chemistry between these two. I don’t get why they’re together, I don’t get what they like about each other, they barely seem to have much fun together. There isn’t much of a rapport.

Pointless personal anecdote #1: When this clip came out, I watched it on my phone at a graduation party, and I'm not kidding, in the few minutes while I was watching some middle-aged parents started talking about wanting to move to Texas when they retire, and they named cities and singled out Austin as a bad choice because “it’s been overtaken by liberals,” lmao. There was no way they could have realized I was watching a show set in Austin. The stars just aligned.

Clip 2 - Kelsey, no

Grace is really concerned about Kelsey sleeping with Daniel so soon, probably because what happened in her own past messed her up.

“Ever since I was a little girl watching the Super Bowl, I knew I was going to lose my virginity to a football player.” .... when I was a little girl watching the Super Bowl I only cared about seeing the commercials with the pretty horses.

“It was like he was going down on me, but in my mouth” … oh my God … someone SAVE this child.

Kelsey, you don’t even know what anyone going down on you in the “correct” place feels like, and this just makes you sound like inexperienced and Not Ready . And I’m glad Meg and Grace are suitably horrified.

Oh, they actually mentioned the issue of insurance, that’s good. But she looked a little uncomfortable with the topic of insurance, so if she has a similar financial situation to Vilde, insurance might be an issue? Or, as was hinted later via texts, she might have a super religious or conservative mom who would not take her to the doctor. She might be able to go to Planned Parenthood for birth control except I’m not sure if minors can get prescriptions for the pill without parental consent because well, Texas.

I checked out of curiosity and it looks like the only type of birth control you can get at PP without parental consent are condoms and lol, Grace already had that covered.

“You know you should use a condom, right?” “What if he doesn’t want to use a condom?” “Then you know you shouldn’t have sex with him.” YES. JESUS. Thank you Grace.

“I talked to Jo this weekend and I prayed about it last night” Oh come on, they’re going to have her mention praying about Zoya’s participation on the team and then not even address the sex-religion topic? Okay. Kelsey doesn’t even have to be abstinent or opposed to premarital sex, not all Christians are, I feel like it just makes sense for someone to be like, “Isn’t having sex before marriage against your religion?” And if Kelsey objected to the question on the grounds that they’re making assumptions about her religion, they could always come back at her with “Well, you assumed Muslims couldn’t dance.”

Kudos to Grace for talking sense about the Zoya situation and being very calm and careful about the Daniel thing.

Clip 3 - Backseat

The editing at the start of the clip made me think the mom might be talking to Megan at first but no, the mom is on her phone. Mom’s communication skills weren’t so great in this clip.

The dialogue is pretty on the nose and super specific to the theeeeeeme, with the mom putting all this implied pressure on Megan, but the passive aggressiveness about Megan’s dad is sadly accurate to how certain married-with-kids dynamics are, with the parents always at each other’s throats and dismissive of each other and not caring about how the kids react to these constant fighting.

I saw some people wondering why Megan was sitting in the backseat and honestly, that didn’t seem too weird to me. It’s not typical but I’ve ridden in the backseat even when I was the only passenger before (usually because sometimes riding in the front seat makes me sick) but I could see like, a moody teenager wanting to text her boyfriend and not wanting her mom to glance over at her phone. Although the simplest explanation is that Julie wants to hide the parents’ faces.

I didn’t even notice the giant concert posters at first, I was focused on the homeless man. I am assuming he was there to remind us of the stakes to succeed in this world if you’re much of a “dreamer” as Meg’s mom puts it, where if you don’t get a good job that can be you living on the streets, and to get a good job you need to get a degree from a good school, and to get a degree from a good school you need to perform well in high school, and if you make one mistake you are ruined, RUINED forever.

Meg trying to ask her mom for relationship advice and instead getting reminded that her parents have a shit relationship, lovely.

The difference in the tone between the coworker call and the dad call is very telling. Right off the bat, when the dad calls, the mom has a pissed-off attitude. They’re at the stage where they fight just to fight.

Also, note the guilt trip caused by the mom yelling at the dad for not remembering she was going to her friend’s (and like, who cares, I mean this might be part of a larger problem but this sounds like the pettiest shit to argue about) and saying people show they appreciate and support each other by listening and taking interest in their loves, when that’s exactly what Megan didn’t do (skipping Marlon’s show that he was so hyped for) and that’s how she feels she can make it up to him (by buying tickets to the concert he had mentioned).

And the mom says people show they care by listening when she doesn’t even listen to her own daughter and interrupts her when she’s trying to ask a question, and she’s definitely not paying attention to Megan’s life. Like, how is it that they can miss that she’s not on the dance team? Surely the team has some performances or competitions that they’d attend? Fundraisers? I can see them not attending all of Megan’s dance performances, but any of them?

Megan’s mom is a piece of work, though I’m sure the dad plays his part in the dysfunction too, I don’t want to put it all on the mother.

Clip 4 - Straw

Franz Ferdinand???

Not that this is the point but I’m intrigued by this locker setup. But I am from a place with cold cold winters so the idea of having one of these lockers in January seems terrible.

I was curious if Kendrick Lamar was actually supposed to perform in Austin on Friday, so I checked it out, and lo and behold, it was a real concert. Good job, Skam Austin.

It kinda just makes me sad that THIS is how Meg gets Marlon’s attention again, by buying (probably) expensive concert tickets.

“you two are smashing in that bathroom by the nurse’s office” at least you’re nearby if you need offbeat advice and some condoms? Oh wait, this is Texas. Never mind the last one.

This is my chance to talk about how gross I find the word “smash” in any sexual context. It just sounds uncomfortable and makes me think of potatoes.

Shoutout to Tyler’s Prince shirt, certainly a unique wardrobe choice.

Man, Kelsey is just such an easy target. Especially with the way she talks, like-like-like … blood in the water. Tyler and Shay are not here for Kelsey and Jo right off the bat and once Kelsey opens her mouth, it’s doom.

At least Kelsey had the sense to keep Zoya on the team list even if it was for self-serving reasons.

I applaud these actresses for effort, but every version of the iconic spoon scene has felt forced compared to the original. Josefina, my darling, if you’re going to be seductive with your straw, you might wanna purse your lips instead of letting it roll around in and out of your mouth.

I think it’s great that Jo and Tyler spoke Spanish to each other, and that they didn’t have subtitles, but lol at the brazenness of asking that question right in front of Shay when Shay could possibly speak Spanish herself. Or lmao, anyone who has taken Spanish I could understand what she was saying. (Like what if Shay was his girlfriend? Kinda think Jo isn’t concerned with technicalities.)

Calling him jefe, lmao, wow.

Tyler referring to Kelsey as Drew Barrymore made me laugh. Do kids these days have a firm grasp on Drew Barrymore’s legacy? What has she been in recently other than Santa Clarita Diet?

Maybe instead of references to Romeo + Juliet, we can get allusions to Ever After, The Wedding Singer, or Never Been Kissed. (Maybe not that last one.)

Also, I’m glad Meg spoke up for Kelsey so they weren’t just bashing her new friends.

Clip 5 - Internet quizzes should not be used to make major life decisions

Zoya is just looking through a book while Kelsey is talking.

Some of Kelsey’s rules:

“Always act classy”

“No cursing, fighting, messy hair or appearance” while wearing the uniform

“Positive vibes ONLY”

But yeah, here’s another example of why the dance team wasn’t the best way to adapt russ because like … of course Kelsey is being rude and ridiculous, and I can’t say I’m on her side against Zoya, but … if the team founder calls a meeting to discuss rules, it’s expected that you will be there to discuss the rules and not blow it off?

With Vilde’s bus, first of all, russ was several years away and they had time to pull it all together. A dance team is going to require some results in the near future, especially if the team is school-approved and getting them out of P.E. Someone is probably going to be checking up on the girls and making sure they’re not getting P.E. credit for sitting around and doing nothing. Second, pretty sure a bus group is not going to require as much day to day practice, training, and energy as a dance team.

I don’t know, however silly Kelsey’s motivations might be, if you sign up for someone’s dance team … you should expect to dance, dude. That goes for all the girls.

When prompted to give her opinion of Zoya, Jo cleverly deflects with the quiz, as her opinion of Zoya is clearly ❤️❤️❤️

I do love and appreciate Grace trying to persuade Kelsey to rethink the whole sleeping with Daniel thing. Not being too harsh, but being firm and not hesitating to point out all the ways it’s not a good choice.

Also being like “keep in mind he’s not your boyfriend” thank youuuu.

Kelsey sure doesn’t like that part about people judging her for having premarital sex. At least they might bring it up in the aftermath of hooking up with Daniel?

“That definitely didn’t happen.” “It did happen and she can’t eat Sweet Tarts anymore.” Jo continues to be the shining star of this show, I laughed out loud at her delivery of that line.

Whenever one of the Chrises is like “I was totally wasted” about their first time, I’m just like 😧

Kelsey saying option A on the quiz, for her “boyfriend” and her being closer once they sleep together, is the most depressing thing. Stop this train before it goes off the rails.

Oh God. Kelsey does not need to be anywhere near a penis at this juncture. The way she starts giggling and laughing when Grace suggests to think about what turns her on about Daniel … you are not ready to have sex. You are barely ready to talk about sex. None of the Vildes has seemed so young and not ready to go through with this.

Kelsey did not talk about not wanting to be involved in lesbianism, hmmmMMMM. Foreshadowing? Or maybe Julie just realized that people didn’t like the casual lesbophobia if you don’t have a lesbian character?

I haven’t been all that complimentary to the actors on this show, but I do want to give Kelsey’s actress some props for reciting that whole monologue, which is just a detailed Teen Vogue photoshoot.

It’s amusing that Kelsey integrated the Kittens uniform into her erotic fantasy but sad that Kelsey still wants to be a Kitten so much. She’s not wearing a uniform for her own group, whatever she might want it to be, she’s wearing a Kitten uniform in her ideal scenario.

You know Jo is listening to this fantasy and getting inspiration for her next Kelsey makeup experiment.Also, it makes me laugh that they’re having this discussion in a library.

Overheard in Bouldin - TMI Girl in Library: “People get turned on my different things all the time. My cousin’s thing is dirty socks. She keeps a pair of her ex-boyfriend’s in a Ziploc bag under her bed.”

May we one day meet this intriguing cousin of yours, Jo.

But don’t encourage this Daniel nonsense.

It’s too bad we didn’t get the classic doctor visit but lol, a school doctor in Texas might not be able to be so blatant with the sex ed tips, so I get it. And ultimately I would prefer if Julie tried out new scenes instead of trying to recreate old ones.

At first I thought Kelsey maybe didn’t know who Kendrick Lamar was. Which is perfectly plausible, let’s be real.

“When I have ever asked you for anything?” In the short time Meg has known you, Kelsey ... find Jo, join the dance team, get closer to Penetrator Jo, give you her birth control pills.

Clip 6 - Bowling

Kelsey’s outfit is almost exactly what she described in her fantasy! No access to a Kittens dance uniform, but otherwise very close. Follow your dreams, kids.

“Martin had a dream … Martin had a dream …” look, I like that Skam uses a variety of music and not just white indie rock, but can we like … quit syncing music by black artists talking about black cultural topics to scenes of this white dude being a big deal.

Look at that dipshit taking up two parking spaces. Fuck offffffffffffff

Kelsey looks so happy and Daniel looks like he’s already 75% checked out.

How long is this Kendrick bowling montage going to go on?

Ha, Kelsey easily had the worst bowling score of the four of them.

“Daniel just touched my ass.” The way Kelsey was thrilled about this was kind of cute and alarming.

Kelsey wanting Meg to stay with them as long as she can makes me think she really just doesn’t want to go through with the impending loss of virginity.

“Then how’d you know my name at Talent Night?” I mean ... you do go to school together, and Jo is on the football team with a high social profile. I could name a lot of my high school classmates by name even if I’ve never spoken to them.

Is Julie going to go full Chris/Eva with this version to give the shippers their day in the sun? I love original Eva/Jonas but Meg/Marlon is an unpleasant trainwreck so I can’t say I’m disappointed. I mean I can’t say I love Meg/Penetrator Jo either,, but I’m not sad about this version of Eva/Jonas not being endgame.

Penetrator Jo is still sleazy in at least a few respects (don’t be a cocktease) and we have still have to meet his girlfriend but his memory of her seems legit so maybe he does really like her. Unless, I don’t know, he stalked her IG and remembered some relevant details and embellished this whole story?

Lmao, I can get why people might think the “No Signal” scenario would be a contrivance but that exact thing has happened to me, so I buy it.

I will give Julie this credit, she’s good at setting up Fredag/Friday scenarios where we think one thing will happen, and instead something else occurs that’s completely different from the fan theories. I figured it would be as simple as Meg or Marlon missing the concert, not that we’d spot Marlon (or “Marlon”) with Abby

I don’t think it’s Marlon, though. That seems a lot like Tyler’s walk, and the person doesn’t seem to be wearing Marlon’s ugly shoes.

General Comments:

It’s kind of depressing to see people in the FB group and in the comments be like, “I haven’t seen the original show but could Grace be a lesbian? 😃” and the replies be like “No, Noorhelm is coming 😃”

Another “fun” aspect of having this show on Facebook: the MAGA edgelord assholes who leave comments on the episodes about “cucks” and “libtards.”

My opinion of Grace rose so much in this episode just by how doggedly she is trying to bring Kelsey back to earth. and telling her she can back out of this choice.

In the texts, Grace said she would buy condoms for Kelsey - good job - and later, when Kelsey asked the girls what she should wear for losing her virginity, said, “I know what Daniel will be wearing” and said that she put condoms in Kelsey’s purse - excellent job.

I feel like Grace would roll the condom on Daniel’s dick herself if it meant Kelsey had safe sex.

Abby was stressing over finals on IG so I’d bet that was a hint she needed something to help her out, hence meeting up with Marlon/Tyler for Adderall.

I was wondering what kind of music would be on Skam Austin since original Skam had all sorts of high-profile artists, and that would not be cheap, but so far, it seems like Facebook spared no expense with the soundtrack.

Grace and Shay had IG posts reacting to the Santa Fe High School Shooting. IDK how much Skam Austin would address gun violence in the episodes itself in the future, and I can think of ways it could go very badly, but sadly, as one of the biggest concerns of American teenagers today, it would be very relevant, and that’s what Skam’s supposed to be, after all.

#skam austin reactions #skamus reactions

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