#otherwise my parents would question my sanity

[verdantcrimson]

Heaven and Earth - Prologue

(Unproofread)

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[The first year of the establishment of ES. Mid-February. In an ES Meeting room.]

Keito: Now then, I will be returning your answer sheets.

Keito: Here are the results of the flash history test that we of AKATSUKI conducted the other day to test our knowledge of Japanese and World History.

Keito: Allow me to roughly summarize the results. Firstly, I, Keito Hasumi, have managed to score reasonably high in both Japanese and World History.

Keito: Kanzaki scored even higher than me in Japanese History, but his World History grade is abysmal.

Souma: Hehe. My parents have been instructing me in Japanese History since I was a child. I took a liking to it and often researched it out of interest.

Keito: Yes. Your diligence is commendable. However, I would like you to try a little harder in your studies of World History, if you can.

Souma: I am not too fond of World History due to all of the horizontal writing¹.

Keito: Your studies shouldn’t be at the mercy of your personal preferences. Well, more on that later, but for now…

Keito: The problem here is you, Kiryu.

Kuro: ……

Keito: Oi. I’m talking to you, don’t look somewhere else.

Keito: The lecture you’re going to get only increases in length for every second you spend looking away from me.

Kuro: But danna…

Keito: Don’t ‘but danna’ me. No excuses. I’m very disappointed in you.

Keito: Do you remember anything from when we studied to appear on a history related quiz show together? We studied so hard that the textbook was about to fall apart.²

Kuro: ……

Keito: But you’ve just forgotten everything you learned from then. Actually, because you studied so half-heartedly, you might have even gotten worse.

Keito: If I were to critique each and every one of your test answers, we’d be here all day, but allow me to read out a typical one of your unique answers just to give you a sense.

Keito: When I first saw it, I doubted my eyes, my sanity and even my glasses.

Souma: It is difficult to imagine Hasumi-dono ever doubting his glasses.

Keito: Don’t make light of the situation. See here, this is an elementary school level question. “Who was the second shogun of the Tokugawa Shogunate?”

Keito: Kiryu’s answer was ‘Ishida Mitsunari’.

Souma: How could that have come to occur…?

Keito: I think he may have gotten it mixed up in his head, since Ishida Mitsunari is often brought up alongside Tokugawa Ieyasu when discussing The Battle of Sekigahara.³

Keito: I’ve told him about the Tokugawa Shogunate.

Keito: How did their opponents magically overtake the government? It’s quite interesting to imagine what might have led to that outcome. I don’t mean this as a compliment, by the way.

Kuro: W-well, it’s not like I mentioned someone completely random, so I’d at least like to be appreciated for that much.

Keito: Yes. Admittedly, you tried.

Kuro: I did, right? I thought about it real hard before answerin’! I dunno why I’m bein’ forced to take a test like this in the first place!

Keito: About that, originally I was planning to properly announce this after seeing the test results—

Keito: But as you can tell, I hadn’t anticipated Kiryu’s brain being such a trainwreck.

Keito: Actually, the announcement was concerning sort of a large job offer for us, but now I’m debating whether to take it or not.

Souma: Were his answers truly that terrible?

Keito: Yes. In fact, some of them are so strange, I’m starting to wonder if he’s being dense on purpose.

Keito: Kiryu’s answer to this is ‘Ishida Mitsunari’.

Keito: Take this one, for instance. “Name the three people responsible for saving Edo from wartime, otherwise known as the ‘Sanfune of Edo’.” ⁴

Souma: This question was a little troublesome for me as well.

Souma: I was able to recall 'Katsu Kaishu'⁵ fairly quickly, but found difficulty naming the other two. I fear I may have gotten them mixed up with the Three Great Nobles of the Restoration⁶.

Souma: Kiryu-dono, are you not perhaps excessively fond of Ishida Mitsunari?

Keito: It is very interesting to imagine how Ishida Mitsunari must have felt after magically conquering his enemy’s forces and then time-traveling to the future to bring about a peaceful conclusion to the Edo Era. That’s not all, by the way.

Keito: Here are the other two names that Kiryu provided as answers.

Keito: ‘Tokugawa Ieyasu’.

Souma: Tokugawa Ieyasu⁷ has now come back to life after being enshrined!?

Keito: And lastly, ‘Ishida Ieyasu’.

Souma: Whoever might that fellow be!?

Keito: No clue. You should ask him. Kiryu, who is this guy?

Souma: Kiryu-dono, could it be that the only Japanese historical figures you remember the names of are Ishida Mitsunari and Tokugawa Ieyasu…? A-at the very least, you would do well to remember someone like 'Katsu Kaishu'!

Kuro: Shut up already… History doesn’t matter to us in the present day anyways.

Keito: Actually, it does. You see, we’ve been asked to host the ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ show.

Souma: What? Hasumi-dono, could you possibly be referring to that ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ show!?

Kuro: What’s that supposed to mean…… I’m not as studious as you guys, so I’ve got no clue what that even is.

Souma: To put it simply, it is a long-running educational program. I myself have watched it many a time.

Keito: Yes. While most educational shows are aimed at children, this one stands out as a more intense, catered to experts, covering far more intellectual subjects.

Keito: This long-running history-based educational program aims to explore history both broadly and in-depth.

Keito: It’s an excellent show for any fan of History, and it frequently surfaces in discussions of history… You’ve really never heard of it, Kiryu?

Kuro: That a bad thing? I haven’t had much reason to casually ‘discuss history’ in my whole life.

Souma: Ah- Um, regarding the show? Would it truly be possible for us to appear on ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’?

Keito: I wish I could just accept the offer officially. Naturally, such an opportunity is an honor.

Keito: It matches well with our image. However, the hosts of the show must be well-versed in their knowledge of history.

Keito: Hence this test, which was to ascertain our level of knowledge in the field.

Keito: I’m not naming names, but someone performed far worse than I could imagine, and so I fear it may not be possible for us to serve as hosts— Unfortunately.

Kuro: Argh, I’m sorry that that someone was just fucking stupid!?

Souma: I- It’s quite alright, Kiryu-dono. You are by no means a fool. You simply had naught an opportunity nor desire to learn. Right, Hasumi-dono?

Keito: Exactly. That’s why, over the course of the next week, Kiryu is going to learn all about history.

Keito: If he’s still living in a world where Ishida Mitsunari ruled the Tokugawa Shogunate by the end of this— Well, I’ll just pretend we never got any offer at all, and forget about it entirely.

Keito: I love this show, and I would have loved to host it if possible… However, if we’re unsuited for the job, then it can’t be helped.

Kuro: ……

Chapter List | Next

Translation notes (Apologies in advance for the History lesson)

Souma is being very literal here. Most Japanese text is traditionally written vertically.

This is a reference to a previous Idol story (A link will be provided once it's been uploaded)

The Battle of Sekigahara was a clash between the forces of Tokugawa Ieyasu and Ishida Mitsunari. Historically, it was Mitsunari's loss, hence Keito's incredulity later. You can read more about it here.

The 'Sanfune of Edo' (幕末の三舟) are three people credited to preventing war from occurring with their diplomatic skill during the transfer of power from the Feudal Tokugawa Shogunate to the more modern Japanese Empire during the beginnings of the Meiji Restoration in an event known as the Fall of Edo.

Souma actually refers to him as Tōshō Daigongen (東照大權現), a name used to refer to him after his death, as he was enshrined as a deity posthumously, on his own wishes, to oversee the next generation.

Katsu Kaishū was one of the aforementioned Sanfune.

The Three Great Nobles of the Restoration were notable figures during the beginning of the Meji Restoration. Their existence and involvement with the Sanfune during the same time period is why Souma could've had difficulty discerning them.

#Heaven and Earth #Keito Hasumi #Kuro Kiryu #Souma Kanzaki

[luimagines]

(I legitimately chuckled at the response for my ask. Fierce is stuck in a group of people with minimal self preservation. This one ain't helping his sanity either.)

The Chain end up in Sky's era next but it isn't the way any of them want. An even bigger middle finger as Skyloft is close by. Everyone is dropped from high in the sky and only some Links have a safe way down. Only Time and Fierce notice the resigned look on Pokemon Trainer Reader's face before they pull a strange Pokeball. The shout to come freezes everyone from their panic.

Reader: My dear friend, Giratina, carry us to safety!

The Chain + Fierce watch as a large serpentine shadow dragon appears and quickly place everyone on its back. No one expected Reader to have actually caught a Pokemon that literally been banished to an alternate world. Their answer being more shocking.

Reader: Long story short. When I was a child, I fell into the Distortion World. Giratina helped me get back home. Of course I did what would give any parent a heart attack: befriend the Renegade Pokemon. The big fellow looked so lonely and clearly needed a friend.

Honestly, they're more like a playful Lillipup most of the time. I was gonna tell you guys sooner but this portal said otherwise.

The group are taken near Waterfall Cave mainly not to give anyone from Sky's homeland a heart attack via the sight of an eldritch dragon. None of the Chain know how to react much less when Giratina shifts into a more land based mode.

Seeing the Pokemon nuzzle Reader and act more akin to a friendly puppy. A strange image much less when the dragon in question gives them puppy dog eyes while wagging their tail as if wanting attention.

Time: This journey just gets stranger and stranger.

Wild: ...I can finally pet a dragon without getting burned, electrocuted or frozen.

Hyrule stares at the dragon, feeling the power emanating from the creature.

Legend and Sky get closer but there's something holding them back.

Let's face it, Wild and Wind would be climbing all over the guy. With only Twilight and Warrior to get them to respect it's space.

#pinky replies #pokemon trainer! reader

[uncanny-tranny]

Question about complete bodily autonomy. If we follow that to the logical conclusion, we get to not stopping people from committing suicide whatsoever if that's what they want. Do you support that?

That's a really complicated question, and I really don't know what you want me to say besides that. I don't feel it right to input a "yes" or "no" because this topic is much different than choosing to dye your hair, for instance.

Not all people who die by choice are mentally disordered, and there's a stereotype that all people who complete suicide are mentally disordered or ill. People tend to degrade those who are suicidal due to mental illness, yes, and that's wrong to do. But not every person who completes suicide is going to be mentally unwell.

If you want an example of this, my father goes to a support group for parents who have lost children. One of these people lost their child to assisted suicide due to cancer. This person's child was in pain every day. The person's child could not eat, physically. Their cancer was terminal. The (adult) child chose their death, and the parent helped. Assisted suicide is a very serious choice, and they had to have multiple prescriptions filled at different pharmacies in order to make this possible. Would it be better to have forced the person to die by cancer? That's what I mean. That person deserved the chance to decide their fate, and that's tragic, yes. I'd've rather the person survive, but that's impossible. It's bleak, it's sad, and no parent should outlive their children. But... their child deserved the right to die in peace.

Suicide is something we need to be compassionate about. We can recognize multiple truths: suicide is very complex. We need to have frank conversations about this topic, without prescribing sanity to it.

I'd encourage anybody who wants to explore this topic further to watch Suicide and Mental Health by PhilosophyTube.

We also must help those who are suicidal, not as a result of illness or otherwise. As a trans person, I was suicidal because I was unable to transition, unable to speak about dysphoria, and unable to find hope because of my environment. Surely, there is a way to combat the issue of suicide in a compassionate, humanist way. Those who have completed suicide are not bad people.

This is a very complex, nuanced issues. I don't have all the answers. But I strongly believe in compassion and the ethical treatment of suicidal people and suicidality. This is a very human issue and discussion.

#ask #anon #suicide #suicide tw #suicide mention tw #cancer #cancer tw #cancer mention tw #and as somebody who's been suicidal i also want to be able to talk about suicidality without being stigmatized... #...i understand why it is but at the same time i am unable to talk about suicidality without risk... #...i think we need to have more frank and compassionate discussions about this... #maybe this isnt answering the question. i just think this issue is VERY complex in ways other forms of bodily autonomy aren't necessarily

[joe-the-english-otter]

Cerebus The Aardvark: Issues #201-#300. Final Thoughts (Repost)

Here’s the final part of the three part saga about my opinions on Cerebus The Aardvark. As with before, if you’re starting here I suggest you read the two previous posts I made, otherwise you’ll be quite lost. (Originally posted to FA on  January 24th 2023) I finally got round to finishing off Cerebus and well, it's certainly a thing and I'll get into the various details shortly. But the various flaws that were already present, reach their absolute peak here, so brace yourself for some of Dave Sim's insane points of view and for some extremely questionable narrative choices. Issues #201-#219: We continue from where we last left off with Cerebus eventually making his way to a bar, which is basically ends up being a place where loads parodies of famous people come and go in a sort of revolving door, as Cerebus remains at the bar and eventually comes to own it. Very little happens in the first part as it's just set up for later on in the story arc. Issues #220-#231: Rick eventually shows up at the bar, now much older and a heavy drinker, also showing the mental and physical scars from being imprisoned, which have had a huge impact on his mental sanity, as this is the set up for Rick creating a religion based around his visions and hallucinations from his mental trauma, which include Cerebus as a holy figure. This serves as a good point to bring up one of the more questionable story decisions Dave Sim did in the previous arc. See, at this point Rick and Jaka are no longer together as a couple, as while they were both imprisioned and interrogated, it is discovered that while Jaka was pregnant with Rick's child, she intentionally took something that caused her to have an abortion, because she was worried that having a child would make her ugly (Yes, seriously) and make her work as a dancer impossible. It's during that revelation, that Rick seperates from Jaka and is freed from prison, though the whole ordeal has shaken them both up. Issues #232-#265: Towards the end of issue #231, Jaka shows up and Cerebus decides to leave the bar, wanting to run off with her as he still deeply loves her. Most of this part of the arc is spent with Cerebus and Jaka as they travel around, with the intention of Cerebus wanting to see his parents again, though various things delay them (Mainly Jaka wanting to do loads of shopping and public appearances, because Dave Sim can't write female characters well anymore), they eventually make their way onto a boat that will take them in the direction they need to go. (Caution warning: Suicide Mention) It's here that they meet F. Stop Kennedy, who is 100% a parody version of F. Scott Fitzgerald, who Jaka is almost tempted to leave with after the relationship with her and Cerebus starts to fall apart. Eventually the boat drops them off and they continue towards Cerebus's home, along the way they meet Ham and Mary Ernestway, less parody-versions and more analogues of Ernest Hemingway and his wife Mary. As they make their way across the now snow covered land, Mary tells Cerebus and Jaka of Ham's safaris in Africa (Yes, seriously Africa is shows to be a real place in the world of Cerebus) and is pretty close to Hemingway's real life journal about his last journey into Africa. Though this is written more in a way to describe Mary as an antagonist and is implied to be one of the reasons why Ham takes his own life. Cerebus panics, thinking Mary killed Ham, so he and Jaka flee, almost dying in a severe snow storm. They eventually make their way to Cerebus's home, only to find that his parents died only a few days ago and that he's been shunned by the local community because of his seemingly apparent abandonment of his parents. Cerebus then snaps at Jaka, telling her to "Scram!" and blaming her for the journey taking so long, leaving Cerebus alone once again. Issues #266-#288: This is the second to last arc, as Cerebus plans to head north, he is kidnapped by the Three Stooges (Yes, seriously) as they await some kind of religious revelation from him. This happens because Rick's religious works have grown into a very powerful movement and Cerebus is now considered an important figure within the relgious movement. Most of this arc is used as a way for Dave Sim to spout his religious thoughts and beliefs about the Torah, with Cerebus even becoming a rabbi for a portion of the arc. Eventually Cerebus gives the needed revelation, which inspires Rick's religious movement to overthrow the tyrants controlling Iest and the various other states and nations, along with re-ordering of society, which really shows Dave Sim's thoughts on certain people, but we'll get to that shortly. (Caution warning: General Homophobia, Anti-Feminism and Sexism) Issues #287-#300: Time jumps forward a fair bit after Cerebus wakes from a dream (Which is more of Dave Sim spouting his theorlogical beliefs) and he is now much older and decrepit. Through this arc, we learn that Cerebus eventually had a son called Shep-Shep and that Shep-Shep's mother has taken control of the religion, with her group of "feminist-homosexualist" idealists change society into being pro-Pedophilia, pro-Zoophilia, pro-juvenile drug use and pro-Lesbian motherhood, among other things, which has led to society quickly collapsing. Cerebus tries to have a heart-to-heart coversation with his son, Shep-Shep is unmoved and is completely in line with his mothers beliefs. But pushing it even further as it turns out that Shep-Shep has been conducting genetic experiments. Horrified by this, Cerebus plans to attack his son, but as he grabs a knife and leaps towards the door his son went through, Cerebus trips and breaks his neck, dying alone, unmourned, and unloved. We get a few flashbacks as Cerebus slowly dies, before a bright white light appears and shows nearly everyone Cerebus has known is waiting for him on the other side, but as Cerebus gets closer, he sees that Rick isn't among them and quickly realizes that he is being taken to hell, he begs and prays to god, but is soon dragged off into the light and into hell. Extras: With the 300 issues came a few well drawn slides of animation of what I can only assume would've been pitched as either a film or tv series, though either the pitch was dropped or never finalized, so you're just left with what could've been. Besides that there are a few issues of various comic and graphic novel creators inserting Cerebus into their works, which include both Spawn and the original TMNT comics, I can assume those were done before Dave Sim completely burnt his bridges with nearly everone he knew. Good bits; The art is still absolutely fantastic, despite everything Dave Sim is still able to do some really good stuff and I have no idea how Gerhard managed to put up with him for so long, though I fully understand why he sold his stake in Aardvark-Vanaheim, to get the hell away from Dave Sim. The rest: Dave Sim is an absolute gob-shite, never have I gone from being excited to read the next part to being so relieved that I finished it. I am extremely glad that someone (Possibly Dave Sim himself) uploaded everying onto Archive. org, because I would've regretted giving him any of my money. My final thoughts are; Read from issue #26-#52, the rest you can absolutely ignore. Dave Sim is a very talented person and does deserve his place, along with Cerebus, in both comic book history and late 20th century literature history, but I say that with a huge asterisk as he is possibly one of the most sexist and homophobic people I have ever seen. I do still like Cerebus as a character, though he is going to be forever tainted by Dave Sim's fuckery. I read the full series here: https://archive.org/details/cerebus.....Cerebus%20001/ It contains every issue and the extras I mentioned above. Maybe in the next 30-40 years, Cerebus will get a re-evaluation and be given it's proper place, out of the bin of obscurity, but it's unlikely to happen while Dave Sim continues to be an arsehole. Thank you for reading and possibly joining me on this journey. If I'm factually wrong or have said something you disagree with, do let me know via a comment or DM me on either here or Twitter. Cheers.

#cerebus the aardvark #dave sim #comics #90s comics #00s comics #cerebus #aardvark #opinion #critique #comic review #review

[gdpr99]

One-Sided Friendship, AmeriKKKan Style

Dilemma: How do I reach a self-described "progressive" who speaks, votes, & bullies the "uppity" like MLK's #whitemoderate?

How do I ask them why USians who quote #MLK and do service for his birthday become ENRAGED when a #POC, as #DrKing did from a Birmingham jail in1963, talks about the obstructive reality that well-meaning whites (or so they say) have been to us for more than 400 years?

SICK of bowing and scraping to protect the feelings of those who simply don't think or truly care about the real-life reality of daily suffering endured by the working-poor service class, particularly if those unlucky Have-Nots are Black or brown. Do they care about their inferior friend? If so, only conditionally.  Be smooth and whitelike, like Obama, so you fit in, but know you'll never be accepted or equal. Yes, existence is hell, the daily microaggressions will push you to an early grave. But don't show them that. They won't like it and it's not like they pay attention to or care about our actual well-being, we just need to smile and serve them enthusiastically -- so long as THEY get what they need and I say how great THEY are from my post beneath them. Good intentions are nice, and thanks for them, but if you're telling me to vote for and praise the very entity hurting my family and my community the same way it has done historically... the very entity promising no one's standard of living will change (as if that is a good thing), I question your intentions and your friendship and decency. Is there any other option?

Update: Replied to their outrage with a ridiculously measured, polite, respectful, reasonable, almost deferential -- omg, that was difficult -- response and rebuttal. They responded with "eff off." This is a friend?

Look, fellow POC: If you make a member of the #UnwarrantedDefault nervous, if you don't play your role as they expect and demand, with RARE exception, they will not listen to you, they will not care(or the question will be too overwhelming for them to bear). In return, again, in most cases, they will insult you or dump you. One way or another, ultimately, they will hurt you. That's how this country WORKS. Happens in one-sided friendships where the societally inferior person doesn't always grok the power dynamic. Happens in MARRIAGES; talk to me about mine. Woe to those who don't submit. Those you thought were friends will remind you of the pecking order SUPER quickly, even as they are SHOCKED, SHOCKED that you would DARE think such a pecking order exists. They mean well, or think/say they do. But they do harm they will cause pain to keep far away from them. Likely for their own sanity. So protect yourself. Never silence yourself or play Stepin Fetchit. But know that if you do share your honest concerns, a real friend, even if they disagree, won't attack,  they will try to understand. They will listen. And they will have your back even if they don't agree. EXCEEDINGLY RARE.

Most "friends" will disappoint you in the end cos doing otherwise is too big a lift for them to manage. My parents warned me 50 years ago. Turns out they were SO right.

#MLK #navigatingwhitesupremacyforthenonwhite #conformordie #dontmakethemnervous #mindyourplace #illtellyouwhatsbestforyou #nolongeragoodone   #plantationnation #CentristsAreTheRealDanger #ListenToPhilOchs #PhilOchs  #AreFriendsFriends #CharlieBrownIsOverLucy #GreenPartyOnly #BlackLivesMatter #dilemma #needadvice

[subtletruamadumping]

Now That I'm Allowed to Think for Myself

______________________________________________________________

I've spent a lot of time trying to unlearn the things that my parents forced down my throat growing up. Growing up Catholic did a lot to fuck up my thoughts and I wrote a bunch of things as a way to try and break away from that kind of thinking and process all the false information I had been given my entire childhood.

Date Written: January 29, 2022

TW: Religious Ideation

_____________________________________________________________

Now that I’m allowed to think for myself, 

Or, rather, no one is here to tell me otherwise,

I think I’ve finally learned that I was always wrong.

I was always so sure that the things I was learning at

Home was the whole truth, nothing but the truth.

So help me god I would convert all those

Non-believers to your good word of nothing

But love and acceptance. Except for, of course

Jews, homosexuals, whores that flaunt their body

And cause good men to sin with them.

They might claim they have changed, that

They have finally seen the face of god and want 

To repent for their sins so they can get to heaven.

They will never truly be clean and it is very

Easy to turn back to a life of sin.

Keep them at an arm's length.

Not that I’m allowed to think for myself

I think that’s pretty fucked up.

Not a novel idea, honestly, and I am deeply

Embarrassed that I took me so long to shake

The sanity into myself. How could people who

Claim to be so loving, so thoughtful of others

Be so terrible to their fellow man? It was

As if they weren’t viewing them as people.

Listening to a ‘man of god’ go on about he

Types of people he’d be alright with wiping out.

Atheists, transvestites, black people who refuse

To talk ‘correctly’ even after being forced into

Education by the white man.

By being so ungrateful they are rejecting the 

Good works of god. They were offered salvation

And rejected it. Now, they don’t deserve it.

Now that I’m allowed to think for myself

And I have untangled myself from what

I grew up listening to, I can finally start to

Grow as a person. The church had me firmly

Pinned down, believing there was really only

One type of person that would make it into heaven.

Loud, white, cis-straight men

Who talked over others because it is their

God-given right to do whatever they wanted.

Obedient, white, cis-straight girls

Who were never allowed to grow old enough to

Have agency over their own bodies or

Become less attractive to older men.

All it took was a step back to see clearly

The disgusting teachings leeching the

Humanity and love out of the followers.

Now that I’m allowed think for myself

I think, just maybe, that we shouldn’t

Be killing, shaming, and converting people

We don’t agree with. This shouldn’t be a

Novel concept, but my mom and I have

Gotten into screaming matches about

Weather or not gay people should be allowed

To get married. It’s been a law for a while.

She wants me spend my life miserable,

Alone, constantly asking god for

Forgiveness for something I can’t control

Just in care there’s a heaven after all this

Rather than just let me be happy.

She says I’ll be happy in heaven, but if

God hates me just for being here,

Why even try? I know where I would go.

Now that I’m allowed think for myself

And I am alone with my own thoughts

For most of the day, I disagree with so 

Much that was just the standard growing up.

I am finally free to choose what I watch,

Who I listen to, what I read. I’m expanding

My horizons, just like my mom always feared.

It’s almost as if she knows the answers are

Out there. As if she knows she’s being a

Hypocrite by claiming to love every human

While encouraging my brothers to avoid

Being friends with anyone who knows

Another language besides English.

I remember when I was in their place.

I tried to reject the idea and ask questions

Which got me punished for talking back.

Now that I’m allowed to think for myself

I can sit with the thoughts and feelings

That have been festering since I was in middle

School. Even forcing me to spend day in and

Day out in a private school meant to further

The brainwashing couldn’t keep me from noticing

How wrong everything sounded. I couldn’t do

The work then, but I can now. I can unlearn

All the things that were seared into my brian.

All the bigotry, all the hatred, all the superiority

That was thrown at me over and over in an

Attempt to force out any original thought.

They didn’t want me to know the truth.

I escaped because it never quite made sense.

All the terrible things that I was taught by

Catholicism. The Universal Religion.

#writing #my writing #spilled thoughts #writers on tumblr #word vomit #poetry #religious trauma #possibly triggering

[runerosen]

Ruins of Rune: Chapter 2

Ruins of Rune: Chapter Two, 12 Years Later

"And now, Rune Rosen will speak." As the congregation turned to me, I stood up and walked to the podium, the only sound being the click of my heels across the wood stage. Taking in a deep breath, I looked into the eyes of Hisashi and his child, Asuga, who gave me an encouraging smile. Slowly, I turned my eyes back to the crowd and began to speak.

"It is not always the case that significance translates into positive influence. It's hard to say more than that, other than those who are important in your life have become so because of tragedies you've experienced. Despite my mother's best efforts, I am negatively affected by her. Because of what happened, I stopped calling her mom and now call her mother instead. After all, she emotionally abandoned me sixteen years ago.

"My life has been impacted by emotional abuse. My parents started as soon as I returned from hospital after being hospitalized four years ago. Instead of helping me, they punished me relentlessly. The hatred increased after I was hospitalized, but it had always been there. From five to seven years old, my parents would lock me out of the house if I hadn't fallen asleep by the time they went to bed. I now know that my insomnia was the cause. My mother let me scream and bang on her door as I cried. Having been left in the dark with a flickering light that was about to go out gave me many panic attacks when I was a child. In some cases, my parents turned out that light and left tenebrously behind. There was a very short period of time I was held here, but it was traumatic.

"In 7th grade, I started attending virtual school since I wasn't ready to attend a public school. I was almost always sent home because I was suicidal. Having difficulty managing time and staying focused was a major issue for me, so I nearly failed seventh grade until I was forced to finish my overdue assignments. Due to this, my parents and I had “Come To Jesus” meetings. I ignored it, but it came every week. Why didn't they see that lectures, screaming, cursing, and threatening were not working? In a few days, they started threatening me with a belt until I understood how important it was to do my overdue assignments. A few weeks later, they pulled down my pants and beat me until I couldn't sit, and it was unspeakable. My heart broke when they said, "We did this because we love you." 

"As a result, if I told someone, my parents would discredit me in public by saying, “you have distorted perceptions of reality.” I understood that to mean, “you’re screwed up.” As a result of three years of hearing "you only see what you want to see," "sometimes we question your sanity," and "you read between the lines too much," the perception left its mark. In recent days, I have started to question my sanity. In my weekly therapy sessions, I discuss my life's past with a therapist, mainly regarding my parents' opinions. My life would have been on the line back then if it proved true.

"At one point, I attempted suicide and almost succeeded if it weren't for my best friend, Hisashi, busting into my room. After being locked in my bedroom, which was void of personality and color, I became so starved of comfort, food, and other necessities that I deemed it essential to my well-being that I die. I truly thought and still think that the pain I experienced as a teenager and in my childhood, is undoubtedly worse than the torture I shall come to know in the depths of hell. And yet, no one visited except Hisashi. Everyone I knew had suddenly made their loyalties known because of one drastic but necessary decision. It positively changed my life for the better, too.

"Although I still doubt my sanity, I recognize that I was emotionally abused by my hateful parents. After reading about abuse for someone's benefit, I experienced an epiphany regarding my abuse:

"Emotional abuse is a way to control another person by using emotions to criticize, embarrass, shame, blame, or otherwise manipulate another person. Some signs of emotional abuse are: name-calling, yelling, public embarrassment, and dismissiveness. Warning signs are but are not limited to, threats, digital spying, frustrated helplessness, and monitoring whereabouts. The National Domestic Violence Hotline states, “because of its subtleties, emotional abuse can be quite difficult to detect when it is being experienced...emotional abusive behaviors do not leave physical marks, [but] they do hurt, disempower, and traumatize. "Emotional abuse can erode self-esteem and will because subtle behaviors are incorporated into it."

"Thus, as my abuse changed me, I became numb in the presence of my parents. As far as I'm concerned, showing affection to people who leave me to constantly ask myself questions is not appropriate. As a result of the roles they played in my life, I became indifferent to my mother and father, and I will remain indifferent, as their presence destroyed my overall well-being.

"As I have stated above, my mother and father played a significant role in my life. My abusers traumatized me, leaving me scarred, and in turn preventing me from caring about them. As these types of abusive behaviors are subtle, I was unable to recognize that I was the victim. As a result, I am fixing my welfare for the improvement of my quality of life, even though I continue to struggle to move past these hurdles. Throughout my life, emotional abuse has played a significant role and continues to do so every day. Thank you for your time."

I watched the congregation with unrevealing eyes to see what they would do. For five seconds, all you could hear was the sobbing of mothers, fathers, guardians, and victims like myself. Then, Hisashi stood up and started clapping as hard as he could, tears streaking his cheeks as he did. Asuga immediately jumped up to follow her father's example, giving me a bright smile. Soon, another stood up and followed their example, and another, and before I knew it, everyone who had stood up to clap. 

The tears, those didn't shock me. But the clapping did, for no one had truly appreciated what I had to say and it was overwhelming. I covered my mouth with one hand as I started crying from happiness, for no words could express the love I felt then and there.

I slowly turned my eyes to the left and looked out at the sky from the window there, losing myself in thought. The crowd's chattering died away, and it was finally silent for me. I felt at peace with myself and the world for the second time in my life, but this time, I could thrive in it.

Mother, father, I don't know where you are now, but I hope you know that twelve years later after I felt driven to death, I am still going strong and standing as an advocate of emotional abuse. 

My past may be ruins, but I am Rune Rosen.

I will survive.

A/N: Yay! Second chapter, woot-woot! Stay tuned for more!

#runerosen #writers on tumblr #original writing #original fiction #story

[i-like-old-things]

I made a TikTok with my Civil War hat and now I don’t want to take it off so I’m just laying on my bed instead of practicing

#let’s see how long I last before I get up #but I’ll have to take the hat off #otherwise my parents would question my sanity #and I wouldn’t have an explanation #history #american history #us history #civil war #american civil war

[writtenonreceipts]

a prompt?

single parent trope for feysand, pretty please?

more prompts for this would be great, otherwise you get my rambling mind and we all know how that goes...

Find my main masterlist here

#

An Intimate Display of Insecurities and Hopelessness

The air-conditioning was out.  Again.  And Feyre had already stripped down to a tank-top and shorts.  The heat was miserable.  

“Sweet mercy,” she muttered as she stood in front of the large fan she’d bought yesterday to try and keep things cool.  It wasn’t working.

Feyre brushed her hair from her sweaty brow and bit back a curse.  This day was not going at all the way she’d wanted it to.  It had taken her far to long to get anything started, not to mention coordinating with Elain on how she wanted to participate in the shop.

It was only three days to her deadline to get her shop up and running.  Three days to get pallets made, canvases designed, and interior design finished.  All in one-hundred-degree weather and boob sweat.

She turned back to the mess of her shop.  This was going to take more work than she had time for.  Or sanity.

The front door opened behind her with a clatter.  Feyre wasn’t that concerned about it, knowing she was getting some things delivered.

“Just leave the deliveries on the floor,” she said, not looking back.  She was trying to have a vision of what she was going to accomplish, a vision that would be epic and glorious.

“Excuse me?” 

Feyre spun at the smooth voice and nearly stumbled.  The most attractive man she’d ever seen was standing in her shop.  His black pants were crisp and cleanly lined and his black shirt was rolled up to the elbows, displaying his tanned skin.  He was tall, lean, and with his black hair swept neatly back.

Feyre felt sweat roll between her breasts.  Oh hell.

“Feyre Archeron?” He asked and took a step forward while holding out his hand. “Rhysand Avitas.  I’m the new building manager.”

A dozen curses ran through her head as she did her best to wipe her sweaty hand on her shorts inconspicuously.  Because of course she knew who Rhysand Avitas was.  Everyone in their small town did.  He was the son of the police chief and now the youngest elected mayor in Valeris history.

He had also been just a year ahead of Feyre in school.  So she knew the kind of person her was.  At least, she thought she did.

“Rhysand, of course,” she said as she took his hand. The heat didn’t seem to effecting him.  Jackass. “Sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

Indeed, it was half-past two right when she’d told his assistant that he could come by the shop.  And see that everything was in order for her opening deadline.  Except she hadn’t really expected him to show up.  

“Not a problem.” He smiled in such a charming way that Feyre found herself wanting to hate him.

But Feyre already did hate him.  He had bought the building just two days after her father’s death.  Just two days after the building was up for sale.  She hadn’t even had the time to get funds together to convince the bank that she could buy the lease herself.  Now, she was going to have to open her shop under him.

In school he had been captain of the football team, president of the ASB club.  He had been the kind of person Feyre had never wanted to interact with.  High and mighty, proud and cruel.  He’d worn a mask of indifference to anyone beneath him, she was convinced.

Feyre cleared her throat. “Things are a little messy right now, but it’ll be ready for opening day on Monday.”

Rhysand nodded as he walked around the shop.  Bits of wood crunched under his too fancy shoes and dust clung to his pants when he brushed up against one of the pallets that Feyre was still trying to decide how to convert into a display case.

“You’re a painter, correct?” he asked.  He looked over his shoulder at her and Feyre was taken aback by his eyes.  Bright blue—so bright that she could have sworn they were violet.  And damn her if she didn’t want to at least try and draw them.

“Yes,” she replied. “My sister does some gardening and does floral arrangements and I’m planning on having her sell some of her work here as well.”

“I remember,” he said, “Mrs. Ellis always made sure all of her classes knew about her protegee.”

Feyre rolled her eyes.  The high school art teacher had been someone no one really liked.  Aside from her.  Maybe it was just because Feyre had wanted someone to pay attention to her, but the woman had always been nice to Feyre.

“My work wasn’t that good back then,” she said.  And it was true, it had taken years of study and experimentation to get to where she was now.  Ten years after those miserable high school years and here she was, finally maybe a little bit confident with what she could do.

Rhysand said nothing, only observed.  “And you’re sure you’ll be ready by Monday?  No offense Miss Archeron, but it seems like a lot needs to be taken care of.  You assured the bank, and my assistant, that your shop was worth allowing in the complex.”

Feyre’s mouth pursed as she watched his man before her.  With his impeccable clothing, that silver watch on his wrist, it was hard to imagine that he’d had any hardships in his life.

“Yes, and I keep my word,” she said, her voice cold enough to rival any a/c.  “What I would like to know is why the air conditioning still isn’t fixed.  It’s been this way for a week now.”

“It’s being looked into,” Rhysand said. 

His gaze turned sharp as he looked her over again.  Something passed over his face that Feyre didn’t care to try and understand.  She just wanted this man out of her shop so she could get back to work.

“Was there something in specific that you wanted to discuss?” she asked, “or were just interested in questioning my ability to run a shop?”

He smirked at her and shook his head. “You always did have that fire in you, didn’t you?”

Feyre was ready to tell him to get out when a soft cry caught her attention.  She held up a finger to silence him as she listened.  Maybe she’d imagined it.  Hell, she hoped he’d imagined it.  Unfortunately the cry came again.

“Just a minute,” she said.

She hurried to the back of the shop where a door led into what would be used for the breakroom.  It was a few degrees cooler back there, which was why she’d set it up for it’s current use.

Sitting up in the pack-and-play was her daughter.  Seren with her golden hair and large blue eyes looked up at her and cried again.

“Momma!” 

Immediately, Feyre scooped her daughter up.  Seren latched on with a snake-like grip.  Her arms wound around Feyre’s neck tightly.

“Hi baby,” Feyre murmured.  “Why are you awake?”

It had only been a half hour since Feyre’d put her down, she’d been hoping for at least one hour of uninterrupted work.

Seren said nothing and only whimpered into Feyre’s neck.  As Feyre whispered to her daughter to sooth her, she went back out into the main part of the store to find the diaper bag she’d packed that morning.  In one of the insulated pockets, she found a bottle of apple juice.

“Here, honey,” Feyre said.  Seren snatched the bottle and began drinking, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Okay, there we go.  Momma need to talk to Mr. Avitas okay, can you let me do that?”

Seren nodded and the almost two-year-old tucked herself right against Feyre’s neck.

Pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, Feyre turned back to Rhysand who stood right where she’d left him.  The hard look in his eyes was gone and whatever hard-ass talk he was no doubt going to deliver evaporated.

“It seems I was wrong,” Rhysand said, “you do have some help, don’t you?”

Seren wiggled in Feyre’s arms to get a better look at the man, her bottle sticking in one cheek.

“Momma,” Seren said, her voice just slightly muffled.

“Yes, you are my big helper,” Feyre agreed, “even when you get into my paints.”

Seren beamed up at her. “I help.”

Feyre snorted a bit of laughter.  Help.  Sure.  There were some painted handprints on the wall that aid otherwise.

“Did you have any other concerns you needed to address, Mr. Avitas?” Feyre asked.

He seemed so taken aback that Feyre had had her daughter in the back room napping that it took him a moment to speak again.  It would have been amusing if the man hadn’t been so annoying to begin with.

“She looks just like you,” Rhysand said.

That was the last thing Feyre’d expected.  She quirked a brow at the man.  She knew it was true.  Seren, thank the heavens, looked like an Archeron.  There was barely a trace of her father.  Something Feyre would give thanks for every day.

Feyre heart gave a painful squeeze.  Of course that was what he meant.

She met his gaze, holding it for a long moment.  Her hold on Seren tightened automatically, something she always did when she remembered her baby’s father. 

“Yes, she does,” she whispered.  Feyre wondered what Rhysand could possibly know.  When she’d moved back to Valeris two years ago, just after she’d found out she was pregnant, she scrubbed her life clean of that man.  Rhysand couldn’t possibly know who the father was.  Even if he did, he shouldn’t care.

“Right,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. Once again, an un definable look flashed over his features, and disappeared just as quickly.  “I’ll see what I can do about the air-conditioning.”

“Good,” Feyre said, “I’d hate to have to delay opening.”

And much to her surprise, Rhysand laughed.  “Of course not.  That would be rather inconvenient, wouldn’t it?”

He turned back to the door and looked as though he would leave without saying anything else, until he paused. He seemed to be having an internal dilemma when he looked back to Feyre.

“If there is anything I can help with, let me know.”

The words were halting and careful.  Feyre wasn’t sure how to read them, how to respond.  So she only nodded.

#

i wanted to add more to this for the first part, but well here we are...

tags

@aelinchocolatelover // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @emikadreams // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @highladysith // @fangirlprincess09 // @rowaelinismyotp // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @cassianscool // @stardelia // @my-fan-side // @sjmships // @tillyrubes10 // @acourtofsjmtrash // @hellasblessed // @rhysandswhore  //  @story-scribbler  // @post-it-notes33 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @strangevil321 // @whythefuckdoiexist // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @lemonade-coolattas @foreverfallingforthestars // @surielandiareendgame // @feysand-loml

#feysand #feysand au #single parent au #acotar fics #acotar au #acotar #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #rhysand

[ace-nlis]

How they met you & fell in love

a/n: This is the first time I decided to actually write something with the intention of posting it. I hope that whoever reads this enjoys it. I'm sorry if I've misspelled anything, English isn't my first language. I hope I did well for my first writing post >.<

WARNINGS: none apart from slight violence. Female reader. Cussing.

Otherwise; fluffy content.

(Y/n) - Your name

(L/n) - Last name

Like or repost if you enjoy <3

Akaashi:

When you first met him, you thought he was a pretty boy with a resting bitch face. He is an extremely straight forward 'say it how it is' type of person and you respected him for that because it isn’t always easy to just speak your mind upfront in this day and age. He didn’t really look all that friendly or approachable, but since you were friends with Bokuto you just had to suck it up and stick around. It was pretty awkward talking to him or even just being around him at first, until you realized that his exterior was an act and he’s a total softy when he isn’t trying to call Bo out on his bullshit. You found him to be an intriguing person, but also rather intimidating. He was peaceful, he didn’t talk all that much and kept to himself like a true introvert. You were the opposite, more of an ambivert type. You tried your best to befriend him, but little did you know that friendship would spiral into something else along the line.

After a while of being friends, Akaashi got red in the ears in your presence. He was easily flustered around you, and the both of you often tended to flirt and bicker as if it was second nature. The two of you in a room together never got boring. Everyone around you could tell the two of you were head over heels for each other. You thought the opposite though, you felt that the friendship was never going to progress into anything more and that your crush was meaningless because nothing would come of it. After being friends for several months, nearly reaching the 1 year milestone, you eventually started to distance yourself.

You always thought the way Akaashi acted around you was purely just because the two of you had a close bond as friends, nothing more, nothing less. Akaashi on the other hand was devastated when he noticed the drastic changes in the close bond you both shared. He noticed that whenever he walked into a room, you’d disappear. Whenever he tried to call you, you wouldn’t answer the phone and make up some excuse that you were busy. The poor guy felt like his sanity was hanging on a thread and all he wanted was to speak to you, figure out what he did wrong and at least go back to how things once were. One day, he cornered you in an empty classroom. His eyes seemed frantic and he made sure to trap you between his arms and leave no room for you to escape so he could get answers. “(Y/n), are you okay? Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?”

It seemed like the questions that were wracking his brain kept tumbling out, and in an overwhelmed panic she stopped him. The next thing the both of them knew was that her lips were pressed to his. At first his eyes were wide and body was stiff with shock. He didn’t know how to respond, and he firmly believed that this was a dream. In her mind, she thought she had just made the biggest mistake of her life because he wasn’t responding to it, he was just standing there and embarrassment slowly started to flood her. Before she could pull away from him, his arms slackened and his hands slid down the wall beside her, eventually placing them on her hips and pulling her body flush against his while kissing her back feverishly. When the two pulled away, they were out of breath and their eyes had a dazed look in them as they locked eyes. He leaned his head against hers and sighed in relief, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he kept his eyes locked on hers. I think that’s when you both knew that there was no way in hell you’d let go of each other at any point in time because it really felt like you were meant to be together.

Oikawa:

You knew of Oikawa Tooru but you never actually wanted to be acquainted with him. To you he sounded like a total sleazebag, a player that loved breaking female students’ hearts left and right. Unfortunately for you, you just so happened to bump into him on Valentines day after having to reject a poor freshman. When you bumped into Oikawa, he thought that you were another girl ready to confess to him due to the box of chocolates in your hands and a smirk instantly made its way onto his face as he reached over to take the box. Your immediate response was to slap his hand away. If looks could kill, he sure as hell would be more than 6 feet under because you were not up for anyone's bullshit. Oikawa gasped in shock and retracted his hand immediately with a pout. “Hey! I know you. You’re (L/n), hmm. Aren’t you a friend of Iwa? You know, you don’t have to be embarrassed about trying to confess to me. I always appreciate a new follower.”

A mix between a scoff and a laugh of disbelief made its way out of you as you immediately shoved the box of chocolates into your bag. “Wow, I knew you were vain but I guess I underestimated just how much. If you think I have any interest in an asshole like you then you must be smoking something. I have no interest in being one of your petty little toys that you hold on a string. I refuse to be one of your little puppets that follow you around to show my undying admiration for someone as shitty as you. No wonder he calls you Shittykawa. You truly are a self centered douche.”

Oikawa’s face was burning red with embarrassment as she pushed past him and continued going to her class. He was astonished, shocked beyond any words imaginary as he stood there and tried to process what had just happened. Eventually he was brought back to his senses when Iwaizumi smacked him over the head and told him to stop staring like a dumbass and get to practice. “Iwa, How do you know (L/n)?” He asked suddenly after they walked in silence for several minutes, which was very unlike Oikawa. “I’m in the majority of her classes and she lives a block away from me. Why?”

“She’s weird. I thought she was gonna confess and then she slapped my hand and called me a douche.” Oikawa said, his tone was completely flat for once and Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Yeah, well what do you expect? She has better things to do than fawn over you, Shittykawa.”

*Insert offended Oikawa noises here*

Needless to say, his first encounter with you was not exactly what he would’ve liked it to be. Slowly though he tried to fish more information out on you, he wanted to understand why you weren’t like the other girls who practically fell in love with him at first sight and why you were the way that you were in general. That meant that any time Iwaizumi would meet up with you at a park to study together or whenever you guys would spend any type of time together that Tooru would tag along. Teachers thought that you were having a blooming friendship with him though and much to your dismay you ended up getting partnered with him on a school project. You felt sick to the pit of your stomach because you truly didn’t want him to come to your home, but he kept insisting and you knew that there would be no point in trying to convince him otherwise so you gave in to his stubbornness.

You felt ashamed the moment he stepped through the front door, your parents were never home and you had to take care of your younger twin siblings. The house was a mess, and that was when he understood why you had such a cold persona around others. You wanted to distance yourself from people and push them away as much as possible in order for you to not have to go through the embarrassment of looking like a train wreck to everyone else in the circumstances that you were in as opposed to your usual well put together attitude. To your surprise though, he was patient. He jumped in on helping you clean, he even helped the twins with any homework questions they had in between working on your project together and showed no judgement. In fact, he gave you a look of understanding.

After that, you were able to tolerate him more and you allowed him to visit the twins more often while even bringing along his nephew for all of them to play together. He taught them how to play volleyball while also helping you in the kitchen when you needed it. He didn’t want to admit it, but he honestly fell in love with you because of how genuine you were. You guys flirted, but it was suffocating to him like all the other girls who flirted with him on a daily basis. He only had interest in you, and you bet your ass Iwa teased the shit out of him for it. Your project got an incredible score of 100% and the two of you celebrated together by playing some volleyball even though you were complete shit at it. He didn’t care though and had fun. You found yourselves hanging a lot more often, being around each other almost 24/7 and you even met his family at some point. They absolutely loved you, and so did he.

He tried to figure out how he’d confess to you, he wanted it to be special. He wanted it to be a moment the both of you would remember because he quite honestly couldn’t see him spending any of his time with any other girl apart from you. Of course he was extremely nervous and skeptical on how to approach it, it was a 50/50 chance of you liking him back. The thoughts left his mind when he heard your voice outside a local supermarket, asking someone to leave you alone and that immediately flipped a switch in his brain. He quickly tried to look for you and found you trying to tell some tipsy guy that you didn’t want anything to do with him to which he immediately went over with his hands tucked in his pocket.

“Hey (Y/n), everything okay?” he asked as he coldly stared at the man that had been harassing you. A quiet “Oh thank god” was whispered underneath your breath as you managed to force your way closer to Tooru. He immediately wrapped one arm around your waist and kept his eyes locked on the other older gentleman that had been bothering you. The guy smirked, “Oh nothing man, I was trying to have a chat with her and she got all bitchy. That’s all.” (Y/n) could feel his body language immediately became a lot more tense, but you quickly pulled at him and tried to evade the situation. “It’s not worth it, Tooru. Let’s just go, okay? We can get some milk bread and watch movies or something.”

“I don’t appreciate the way you talk about my (Y/n)-chan. In fact, I’d advise you to leave her alone before I make you regret even breathing the same air as her. Got that?” He spoke calmly as he gently nudged you out of the alleyway next to the store. “Hey, who the hell do you think you are? Huh? Can’t just take my woman like that, dude.” This is when you truly saw how angry Oikawa could get as all he did was throw a punch and the guy was down. You could only stare in shock at what had just unfolded in front of you. “If you ever talk about her like that again I swear I’ll make you regret you ever existed.” At that he tugged you along and when the two of you were a few blocks away you grabbed hold of his hand and inspected it. “You seriously didn’t have to go that far. I don’t care what a low life has to say about me, at least I don’t live in the streets and I’ve got a roof over my head.” He remained silent for a moment before latching his hand onto your wrist and pulling you into his chest. “I’d never let anyone do or say anything to hurt you. Remember that. I’m just sorry you had to witness me get like that. I’ll make it up to you though.”

“Oh? I think a date would be a pretty nice way to make it up to me since you insisted on calling me your (Y/n)-chan” you said, giving him a cheeky smile to which he could only reply with a teasing smirk. “Hm, seems only fair after I saved you as heroically as I did.”

“Whatever you say, douche”

*insert baffled Oikawa noises here*

#bokuto #hq x (y/n) #iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu!! X reader #haikyuu scenario #xreader #hq x reader #drabbles #fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #xreader fluff #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru #akaashi keiji #akaashi x you #akaashi x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu x reader

[lavendertales]

I just died in your arms tonight: part 4

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: when you return home, Santiago breaks some news to you that make everything else seem futile compared to it, and you’re anxious to see Frankie again.

word count: 2.6k

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood and injuries.

A/N: here we are, guys, the last part! I figured this was the nicest way to end things and because we all love a happy ending, I couldn’t help myself. I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for all of the support and love you’ve shown to this series and the rest of my work!

gif: @pedro-pscal​ 

series masterlist | AO3

Three months later, everything looked the same. Nothing had changed, and not even you had. You had hoped that your excursion throughout Europe would change something about you or your perception over reality, but the truth of it was that you missed home like crazy. You missed everyone, and most of all, you were dying to know how things were between Ben and Frankie.

And for the last three months, the epicenter of your every thought was Frankie. Especially given how your goodbye went, your mind hung onto that memory throughout your travels, replaying it over and over, soothing your nerves and aiding you in those nights when you felt like adding a little fun to your otherwise grey situation.

You took the weekend to enjoy your time at home, but Monday rolled around and you couldn’t stand it anymore. You had to see Frankie. You had to talk to him, to see him.

You drove to his house, almost too impatient to pay proper attention to the road itself. Once you finally got there, you sprinted to the front door, rang the doorbell and waited. The time lag was unbearable. You began to fuss, cracking your knuckles and bouncing one legs restlessly. There were too many thing going around in your head at that time, and neither aided you in your quest to preserve a certain level of sanity. Rapidly, you began to wonder what his reaction will be upon seeing you. After all, you did leave after his endless plea for you to stay, leaving his side just like you did the very first time you slept together, two years prior. And you felt guilty for that, but you had a plan.

Now that the plan was over, it was time to pick up the mess.

You held your breath when the door opened, but quickly exhaled as you were met with Santiago’s surprised face.

“Pope,” you breathed. “What are you doing here?”

“Question is, what you are doing here!”

He dropped the bag in his hand to offer you a tight hug, and you welcomed in with a hole in your stomach. You had missed him dearly, just as much as you had missed the rest.

“How have you been? Are you okay?” you asked from somewhere in the crook of his neck.

“Yeah, I… things have been crazy, but… good. Real good. Most of the time.”

He looked shyly at you, hands on his hips, and you reckoned that he wanted to share something major.

“Catherine’s pregnant.”

Your whole face lit up with surprise and you hugged him again, muttering “Congratulations!” and “You’re gonna be amazing parents!” as well as “I am so happy for both of you!” And you were sincere. After all the shit Santiago went through, it was about damn time something good like that happened to him.

“So what are you doing here? Where’s Frankie?”

Santiago’s face suddenly darkened, and this time you could tell for sure there were no good news.

“Pope… where’s Frankie?”

“He’s fine. Now. But he—he came back a week ago, he had to be patched up…”

Your eyes widened. “Where the hell is Frankie and what the hell happened?!”

“He—he went on a mission, a month ago, and… he got framed, things got ugly… he got shot.”

Every frame around you seemed blurry, and it came crashing down on you all at once. You weren’t discerning anything else aside the brutal information that Frankie had been shot. Santiago was explaining in excruciating detail what had happened, how Frankie had been framed for carrying cocaine on him when all he was doing was secure some VIP in a villa in Mexico, but you barely registered that.

“—he’s in the hospital if you wanna—“

“Take me.”

Without anything else to comment, Santiago drove both of you to the hospital, trying to make any other small talk with you to keep you distracted or calm you down, but neither worked. You were picturing Frankie on the cold, hard ground, blood dripping from all over him as he tried to hang onto life, cold fingers gripping the invisible line between that and death.

When you got out of the car, you pushed past the several people in your way in your attempt to get to the front desk, asking for Frankie’s full name. Santiago was right behind you as you went to the elevator, trying to calm you down, but you did not listen. All of a sudden, everything that happened in the past few months became irrelevant. Your departure, the fight between the two men, the pain, none of it mattered. It seemed even juvenile if you thought about it.

Santiago entered first in the salon, gesturing to you to follow him. Your steps were heavy, tensed and shy at the same time. Your face lit up as you noticed Ben chatting with Frankie, calmly and friendly as you know they used to. Both men turned to you, Benny being the first – and only one – to greet you, moving forward to you and taking you in his arms. His hugs were always so welcoming and warm, despite the nature of his work, and you always felt safe and loved in his arms. He placed his head on your shoulder, maintaining the contact for a while.

“Hey stranger,” he muttered in the crook of your neck.

“Hey, Benny.”

Your voice was shaky, but joyous. When you finally looked at him, you saw him much healthier than how he was when you left. His smile was just as playful and sincere as always, and at last you shifted your glare onto Frankie, lying in the bed.

His face carried a few small cuts and bruises, purple and red, and he did not reveal any facial expression. He simply looked at you, gaze somehow passing right through you even, but you approached the bed nonetheless.

“What the hell happened?” you whispered.

You knew the story already, but you needed to hear it from Frankie. You just needed to hear a justification, something, anything that would make you understand the reasoning behind his apparent suicidal mission.

“Didn’t Pope tell you?” Ben asked.

“I did.”

“Then you don’t need to hear it again,” Frankie shrugged.

“I do. I need to hear it from you.”

You recognized the temper in your voice, the buildup to the impending volcano of anger about to erupt from within. Ben and Santiago sensed it just as much; they learned in those years that when you were mad, you meant business. Both of them stepped aside, headed for the exit.

“Give a few minutes, please,” you asked them.

Without further ado, they left the salon, trying to sneak in glances at you and Frankie through the glass.

“Good thing you’re on bed rest,” you addressed Frankie. “You can only sit there and listen to me.”

“Isn’t that emotional abuse?”

“You would’ve known if it was.”

Silence installed itself uncomfortably in between you and him as you rummaged the words you wanted to get out. But you realized that none of them would come out right or even with sense. You were distressed, terrified of the future’s prospect, and mad.

“Pope said you got shot.”

“I did.”

“How many times?”

You frowned, and he mirrored the gesture. “Why would you want to know – “

“How many times?”

“Two.”

His eyes were focused totally elsewhere but on you. There was a slight guilt in his body language, one that you shared to a degree, but there was so much more you needed to clarify, so much more than needed to be said.

“What happened in Mexico?”

Frankie sighed, clearly not willing to give away anything. But the more you stood there in that painful silence, fury seeping through your pores, the worst he felt, and for all of the reasons he failed to comprehend.

“It was just a job,” he muttered, looking ahead.

“Just a job? Pope told me you got framed for carrying cocaine. That’s why you got shot. Twice!”

“If you know what happened, why do you have to ask me? Why do you need to know so badly?”

“Because I need something that justifies your stupid decision! I need something, anything, really, that would make me understand why you left to do such a dangerous, reckless thing!”

His eyes shot at you, anger sprinkled in his gaze as well. “I left because you left! It’s as easy as that!”

“I left because you and Ben were in a terrible place and I wanted to give you both the space and time to heal, to fix your issues! You, on the other hand, left for stupid and life-threatening reasons and—and for what? What did that prove? That you’re mortal? Good job!”

“You were gone… for three months. In those three months, everyone did something to move on. Benny kept winning matches, getting more and more recognition, Will opened his own shop, Santi and Cat are gonna have a baby… and where was I? I was in the same place, left without one of my best friends and the girl that I was probably supposed to end up with. I had to do something, I had to… move, to… feel alive.”

“By… risking your life?”

“I’m still here. Sawn up and still in the same place as I was.”

“What was your plan, exactly? To go out there, do that job and then… what? Go to the next one?”

“Maybe.”

The idea broke your heart more than you would’ve imagined. It was again through some of your own fault, but his recklessness was something you could not take credit for, nor place the blame on you for it.

“You could’ve died out there,” you murmured, the thought visibly affecting you. “You could’ve died and none of us would’ve known.”

“Pope knew where I was.”

“Oh. That’s a relief.”

Your sarcasm cut deep through him, deeper than those bullets ever did. “I don’t know what I would’ve done, okay? I would’ve went from job to job probably and… that would be it. Because I’m a fucking great pilot and I could’ve made a great living out of it. I didn’t even know if you were coming back.”

“I told you—“

“You told me nothing! You said you might come back. And judging by the look on your face and your tone… you didn’t want to.”

You hesitated to reply anything. Deep down, you recalled your hasty decision to move away, but when you sneaked out after sleeping with Frankie, even you realized it was a very ridiculous choice. You couldn’t just uproot yourself that easily.

And you weren’t sure how much credit there was to give to Frankie, but he was a major contributing factor.

“Were you gonna come back?” he asked.

“Yes. I might’ve considered leaving for good for a brief moment, but… I could never leave like that.”

“Except you did. You sneaked out in the middle of the night, just like you did when we slept together two years ago.”

“I needed to leave. And I know you understand that.”

“I do. I do understand that, but it was selfish of you to do.”

“I was selfish? For allowing you and your best friend some time and space?”

“For walking out like that on me, on us!”

“You wanna talk about selfish? You went off to some suicide mission!”

“Because you were gone! You walked out on us!”

“There was no us at the time!”

“It was always us!”

You stared at him in disbelief, not really recognizing yourself or him. There was so much still left in between you two, so many unaddressed things.

“It was always you and me, even if we were both too cowards to… do anything.”

“How? All you remembered from that drunken one night stand was the – the physical part. The touch, the moans… for two years you wanted that feeling again, and I—“

“I wanted you, not whatever fantasy you think I had in mind. For the past years... I searched for that same warmth, that same cozy feeling as I shared with that woman. When you told me it was you, when I remembered the bits and pieces of what we did... it made so much fuckin’ sense. All of it made sense.”

He paused, searching your face for something that he wasn’t quite clear on.

“There was always… something in between us, something happening here and we—we never acted on it. That night was just the tip of the iceberg.”

“I know. I figured it was just some silly physical attraction but… God, Frankie, for the past two years, all that I wanted was… justice.”

Frankie frowned at you, unsure of where you were going with that.

“It was attraction at first sight with Benny, and you know that, no need for me to say it out loud again.”

“No, really not.”

You chuckled softly. “And I love him. But—“

Your eyes got suddenly flooded with tears and you fought hard to keep them back as you smiled fondly at him.

“But the way you make me feel… it’s driving me crazy. In all the years that we’ve known each other and been friends, every time we hung out it was… different. It was different than me and Pope hanging out, or me and Will hanging out. It was better in every way. Just the way you make me laugh, the way you make me laugh… all of it. As much as I fought it, as much as I tried to deny it, tooth and nail, it came back ten times stronger and bit me in the ass.”

“At least something did.”

You chuckled against your will. “See, this is what I mean. You always… I’ve been hopelessly in love with you forever, even if I didn’t realize it before that one night stand. You were right. It’s always been about you and me, and… damn it, Frankie, I couldn’t even leave. I wanted to, yes, for a brief moment, and… I couldn’t do it. For all of you, my family, but… you.”

“You know, if I wasn’t in pain still, I would jump on you.”

You chuckled again, sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking his hand into yours.

“Now, I don’t remember everything from that night exactly... only some things which logistically seem impossible but somehow we made it work.”

“We were drunk, so it all seemed possible.”

“But what did I... say to you? Did I at least say something nice or flattering to you?”

You smiled, fondly remembering that night second by second.

“You said that nobody gets you like I do, and that if you were to trust your life in someone’s hands, it would be me, without hesitation—“

“Not even Pope?”

“I asked that same question, you said ‘screw Pope, he’s most of the time annoying anyway’.”

Frankie laughed, in spite of the mild pain, and listened to you further.

“And you said that... there was always something about me that made you happy. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew it was real. And then you got drunker, thought I was someone else and—“

“The rest is history. Got it.”   

“So are you and Ben okay?”

“We’re good. We’re best friends again. We talked it out politely and sorted everything. You’d be surprised how much bonding you can do when you’re on the verge of death.”

“Idiot.”

He frowned, chuckling as well.

“But yeah, I can imagine,” you conceded.

“Kiss her, you moron!”

You and Frankie turned your heads to be met with Santiago and Ben’s curious faces beyond the glass, looking excitedly at you two.

“Come on, Catfish, don’t be an idiot!” Santiago enforced.

“Would you knock it off?” you said, half amused and half annoyed.

“Morales, if you don’t kiss her, fair warning, someone out here will! And we both know it ain’t Pope.”

Ben’s smirk made Frankie feel uneasy, but more so encouraged him to act upon it. Right as you turned to smile at him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in for a kiss, the kind you can only dream of and get lost in, the kind that consumed you and weakened you.

And you were right. When you’re on the verge of losing someone forever, everything else in between fades into forgetfulness. 

And suddenly, nothing else mattered but you and Frankie.

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fluff #francisco morales #catfish morales #triple frontier #benny miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales angst #triple frontier fanfiction

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Annette: The AD Devotee Review

So I saw Annette on its premiere night in Cannes and I’m still trying to process and make sense of those 2.5 hours of utter insanity. I have no idea where to begin and this is likely going to become an unholy length by the time I’m finished, so I apologize in advance. But BOY I’ve got a lot to parse through!!

Let’s start here: Adam’s made plenty of weird movies. The Dead Don’t Die? The Man Who Killed Don Quixote? There are definitely Terry Gilliam-esque elements of the unapologetically absurd and fantastical in Annette, but NOTHING comes close to this film. To put it bluntly, nothing I write in this post can prepare you for the eccentric phantasmagoria you’re about to sit through.

While the melodies conveying the story – at times lovely and haunting, at times whimsical, occasionally blunt and simple – add a unique sense of the surreal, the fact that it’s all presented in song somehow supplies the medium for this bizarre concoction of disparate elements and outlandish storytelling to all coalesce into a single genre-defying, disbelief-suspending whole. That’s certainly not to say there weren’t a few times when I quietly chortled to myself and mouthed “what the fuck” from behind my mask when things took an exceeding turn to the outrageous. This movie needs to be permitted a bit of leeway in terms of quality judgments, and traditional indicators certainly won’t apply. I would say part of its appeal (and ultimately its success) stems from its lack of interest in appealing to traditional arbiters of film structure and viewing experience. The movie lingers in studies of discomfiture (I’ll return to this theme); it presents all its absurdities with brazen pride rather than temperance; and its end is abrupt and utterly jarring. Yet somehow, at the end of it, I realized I’d been white-knuckling that rollercoaster ride the whole way through and loved every last twist and turn.

A note on the structure of this post before I dive in: I’ve written out a synopsis of the whole film (for those spoiler-hungry people) and stashed it down at the bottom of this post, so no one trying to avoid spoilers has to scroll through. If you want to read, go ahead and skip down to that before reading the discussion/analysis. If I have to reference a specific plot point, I’ll label it “Spoiler #___” and those who don’t mind being spoiled can check the correlating numbers in my synopsis to see which part I’m referencing. Otherwise, my discussion will be spoiler-free! I do detail certain individual scenes, but hid anything that would give away key developments and/or the ending.

To start, I’ll cut to what I’m sure many of you are here for: THE MUSICAL SEX SCENES. You want detailed descriptions? Well let’s fucking go because these scenes have been living in my head rent-free!!

The first (yes, there are two. Idk whether to thank Mr. Carax or suggest he get his sanity checked??) happens towards the end of “We Love Each Other So Much.” Henry carries Ann to the bed with her feet dangling several inches off the floor while she has her arms wrapped around his shoulders. (I maybe whimpered a tiny bit.) As they continue to sing, you first see Ann spread on her back on the bed, panting a little BUT STILL SINGING while Henry’s head is down between her thighs. The camera angle is from above Ann’s head, so you can clearly see down her body and exactly what’s going on. He lifts his head to croon a line, then puts his mouth right back to work. 

And THEN they fuck – still fucking singing! They’re on their sides with Henry behind her, and yes there is visible thrusting. Yes, the thrusting definitely picks up speed and force as the song reaches its crescendo. Yes, it was indeed EXTREMELY sensual once you got over the initial shock of what you’re watching. Ann kept her breasts covered with her own hands while Henry went down on her, but now his hands are covering them and kneading while they’re fucking and just….. It’s a hard, blazing hot R rating. I also remember his giant hand coming up to turn her head so he can kiss her and ladkjfaskfjlskfj. Bring your smelling salts. I don’t recommend sitting between two older ladies while you’re watching – KINDA RUINED THE BLATANT, SMOKING HOT ADAM PORN FOR ME. Good god, choose your viewing buddy wisely!

The second scene comes sort of out of nowhere – I can’t actually recall which song it was during, but it pops up while Ann is pregnant. Henry is again eating her out and there’s not as much overt singing this time, but he has his giant hands splayed over her pregnant belly while he’s going to town and whew, WHEW TURN ON THE AIR CONDITIONING PLEASE. DID THE THEATER INCREASE IN TEMPERATURE BY 10 DEGREES, YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT IT DID.

Whew. I think you’ll be better primed to ~enjoy~ those scenes when you know they’re coming, otherwise it’s just so shocking that by the time you’ve processed “Look at Adam eating pussy with reckless abandon” it’s halfway over already. God speed, my fellow rats, it’s truly something to witness!!

Okay. Right. Ahem. Moving right on along….

I’ll kick off this discussion with the formal structure of the film. It’s honestly impossible to classify. I have the questionable fortune of having been taken to many a strange avant-garde operas and art exhibitions by my parents when I was younger, and the strongest parallel I found to this movie was melodramatic opera stagings full of flamboyant flourishes, austere set pieces, and prolonged numbers where the characters wallow at length in their respective miseries. This movie has all the elevated drama, spectacle, and self-aggrandizement belonging to any self-professed rock opera. Think psychedelic rock opera films a la The Who’s Tommy, Hair, Phantom of the Paradise, and hell, even Rocky Horror. Yes, this film really is THAT weird.

But Annette is also in large part a vibrant, absurdist performance piece. The film is intriguingly book-ended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character; and your own role blurs between passive viewer and interactive audience. The first scene has the cast walking through the streets of LA (I think?), singing “So May We Start?” directly to the camera in a self-aware prologue, smashing the fourth wall from the beginning and setting up the audience to play a direct role in the viewing experience. Though the cast then disburse and take up their respective roles, the sense of being directly performed to is reinforced throughout the film. This continues most concretely through Henry’s multiple stand-up comedy performances.

Though he performs to an audience in the film rather than directly to live viewers, these scenes are so lengthy, vulgar, and excessive that his solo performance act becomes an integral part of defining his character and conveying his arc as the film progresses. These scenes start to make the film itself feel like a one-man show. The whole shtick of Henry McHenry’s “Ape of God” show is its perverse irreverence and swaggering machismo. Over the span of what must be a five minute plus scene, Henry hacks up phlegm, pretends to choke himself with his microphone cord, prances across the stage with his bathrobe flapping about, simulates being shot, sprinkles many a misanthropic, charmless monologues in between, and ends by throwing off his robe and mooning the audience before he leaves the stage. (Yes, you see Adam’s ass within the film’s first twenty minutes, and we’re just warming up from there.) His one-man performances demonstrate his egocentrism, penchant for lowbrow and often offensive humor, and the fact that this character has thus far profited from indulging in and acting out his base vulgarities.

While never demonstrating any abundance of good taste, his shows teeter firmly towards the grotesque and unsanctionable as his marriage and mental health deteriorate. This is what I’m referring to when I described the film as a study in discomfiture. As he deteriorates, the later iterations of his stand-up show become utterly unsettling and at times revolting. The film could show mercy and stop at one to two minutes of his more deranged antics, but instead subjects you to a protracted display of just how insane this man might possibly be. In Adam’s hands, these excessive, indulgent performance scenes take on disturbing but intriguing ambiguity, as you again wonder where the performance ends and the real man begins. When Henry confesses to a crime during his show and launces into an elaborate, passionate reenactment on stage, you shift uncomfortably in your seat wondering how much of it might just be true. Wondering just how much of an animal this man truly is.

Watching this film as an Adam fan, these scenes are unparalleled displays of his range and prowess. He’s in turns amusing and revolting; intolerable and pathetic; but always, always riveting. I couldn’t help thinking to myself that for the casual, non Adam-obsessed viewer, the effect of these scenes might stop at crass and unappealing. But in terms of the sheer range and power of acting on display? These scenes are a damn marvel. Through these scenes alone, his performance largely imbues the film with its wild, primal, and vaguely menacing atmosphere.

His stand-up scenes were, to me, some of the most intense of the film – sometimes downright difficult to endure. But they’re only a microcosm of the R A N G E he exhibits throughout the film’s entirety. Let’s talk about how he’s animalistic, menacing, and genuinely unsettling to watch (Leos Carax described him as “feline” at some point, and I 100% see it); and then with a mere subtle twitch of his expression, sheen of his eyes, or slump of his shoulders, he’s suddenly a lost, broken thing.  

Henry McHenry is truly to be reviled. Twitter might as well spare their breath and announce he’s already cancelled. He towers above the rest of the cast with intimidating, predatory physicality; he is prone to indulgence in his vices; and he constantly seems at risk of releasing some wild, uncontrollable madness lingering just beneath his surface. But as we all well know, Adam has an unerring talent for lending pathos to even the most objectively condemnable characters.

In a repeated refrain during his first comedy show, the audience keeps asking him, “Why did you become a comedian?” He dodges the question or gives sarcastic answers, until finally circling back to the true answer later in the film. It was something to the effect of: “To disarm people. It’s the only way I can tell the truth without it killing me.” Even for all their sick spectacle, there are also moments in his stand-up shows of disarming vulnerability and (seeming) honesty. In a similar moment of personal exposition, he confesses his temptation and “sympathy for the abyss.” (This phrase is hands down my favorite of the film.) He repeatedly refers to his struggle against “the abyss” and, at the same time, his perceived helplessness against it. “There’s so little I can do, there’s so little I can do,” he sings repeatedly throughout the film - usually just after doing something horrific.

Had he been played by anyone else, the first full look of him warming up before his show - hopping in place and punching the air like some wannabe boxer, interspersing puffs of his cigarette with chowing down on a banana – would have been enough for me to swear him off. His archetype is something of a cliché at this point – a brusque, boorish man who can’t stomach or preserve the love of others due to his own self-loathing. There were multiple points when it was only Adam’s face beneath the character that kept my heart cracked open to him. But sure enough, he wedged his fingers into that tiny crack and pried it wide open. The film’s final few scenes show him at his chin-wobbling best as he crumbles apart in small, mournful subtleties.

(General, semi-spoiler ahead as to the tone of the film’s ending – skip this paragraph if you’d rather avoid.) For a film that professes not to take itself very seriously (how else am I supposed to interpret the freaky puppet baby?), it delivers a harsh, unforgiving ending to its main character. And sure enough, despite how much I might have wanted to distance myself and believe it was only what he deserved, I found myself right there with him, sharing his pain. It is solely testament to Adam’s tireless dedication to breathing both gritty realism and stubborn beauty into his characters that Henry sank a hook into some piece of my sympathy.

Not only does Adam have to be the only actor capable of imbuing Henry with humanity despite his manifold wrongs, he also has to be the only actor capable of the wide-ranging transformations demanded of the role. He starts the movie with long hair and his full refrigerator brick house physique. His physicality and size are actively leveraged to engender a sense of disquiet and unpredictability through his presence. He appears in turns tormented and tormentor. There were moments when I found myself thinking of Conan the Barbarian, simply because his physical presence radiates such wild, primal energy (especially next to tiny, dainty Marion and especially with that long hair). Cannot emphasize enough: The raw sex appeal is off the goddamn charts and had me – a veteran fangirl of 3+ years - shook to my damn core.

The film’s progression then ages him – his hair cut shorter and his face and physique gradually becoming more gaunt. By the film’s end, he has facial prosthetics to make him seem even more stark and borderline sickly – a mirror of his growing internal torment. From a muscular, swaggering powerhouse, he pales and shrinks to a shell of a man, unraveling as his face becomes nearly deformed by time and guilt. He is in turns beautiful and grotesque; sensual and repulsive. I know of no other actor whose face (and its accompanying capacity for expressiveness) could lend itself to such stunning versatility.

Quick note here that he was given a reddish-brown birthmark on the right side of his face for this film?? It becomes more prominent once his hair is shorter in the film’s second half. I’m guessing it was Leos’ idea to make his face even more distinctive and riveting? If so, joke’s on you, Mr. Carax, because we’re always riveted. ☺

I mentioned way up at the beginning that the film is bookended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character, and between reality and performance. This comes full circle at the film’s end, with Henry’s final spoken words (this doesn’t give any plot away but skip to the next paragraph if you would rather avoid!) being “Stop watching me.” That’s it. The show is over. He has told his last joke, played out his final act, and now he’s done living his life as a source of cheap, unprincipled laughs and thrills for spectators. The curtain closes with a resounding silence.

Now, I definitely won’t have a section where I talk (of course) about the Ben Solo parallels. He’s haunted by an “abyss” aka darkness inside of him? Bad things happened when he finally gave in and stared into that darkness he knew lived within him? As a result of those tragedies, (SPOILER – Skip to next paragraph to avoid) he then finds himself alone and with no one to love or be loved by? NO I’M DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT AT ALL, I’M JUST FINE HERE UNDER MY MOUNTAINS OF TISSUES.

Let’s talk about the music! The film definitely clocks in closer to a rock opera than musical, because almost the entire thing is conveyed through ongoing song, rather than self-contained musical numbers appearing here and there. This actually helps the film’s continuity and pacing, by keeping the characters perpetually in this suspended state of absurdity, always propelled along by some beat or melody. Whenever the film seems on the precipice of tipping all the way into the bleak and dark, the next whimsical tune kicks in to reel us all blessedly back. For example, after (SPOILER #1) happens, there’s a hard cut to the bright police station where several officers gather around Henry, bopping about and chattering on the beat “Questions! We have a few questions!”

Adam integrates his singing into his performance in such a way that it seems organic. I realized after the film that I never consciously considered the quality of his singing along the way. For all that I talked about the film maintaining the atmosphere of a fourth wall-defying performance piece, Adam’s singing is so fully immersed in the embodiment of his character that you almost forget he’s singing. Rather, this is simply how Henry McHenry exists. His stand-up scenes are the only ones in the film that do frequently transition back and forth between speaking and singing, but it’s seamlessly par for the course in Henry’s bizarre, dour show. He breaks into his standard “Now laugh!” number with uninterrupted sarcasm and contempt. There were certainly a few soft, poignant moments when his voice warbled in a tender vibrato you couldn’t help noticing – but otherwise, the singing was simply an extension of that full-body persona he manages to convey with such apparent ease and naturalism.

On the music itself: I’ll admit that the brief clip of “We Love Each Other So Much” we got a few weeks ago made me a tad nervous. It seemed so cheesy and ridiculous? But okay, you really can’t take anything from this movie out of context. Otherwise it is, indeed, utterly ridiculous. Not that none of it is ever ridiculous in context either, but I’m giving you assurances right now that it WORKS. Once you’re in the flow of constant singing and weirdness abound, the songs sweep you right along. Some of the songs lack a distinctive hook or melody and are moreso rhythmic vehicles for storytelling, but it’s now a day later and I still have three of the songs circulating pleasantly in my head. “We Love Each Other So Much” was actually the stand out for me and is now my favorite of the soundtrack. It’s reprised a few times later in the film, growing increasingly melancholy each time it is echoed, and it hits your heart a bit harder each time. The final song sung during (SPOILER #2), though without a distinctive melody to lodge in my head, undoubtedly left me far more moved than a spoken version of this scene would have. Adam’s singing is so painfully desperate and earnest here, and he takes the medium fully under his command.

Finally, it does have to be said that parts of this film veer fully towards the ridiculous and laughable. The initial baby version of the Annette puppet-doll was nothing short of horrifying to me. Annette gets more center-stage screen time in the film’s second half, which gives itself over to a few special effects sequences which look to be flying out at you straight from 2000 Windows Movie Maker. The scariest part is that it all seems intentional. The quality special effects appear when necessary (along with some unusual and captivating time lapse shots), which means the film’s most outrageous moments are fully in line with its guiding spirit. Its extravagant self-indulgence nearly borders on camp.

...And with that, I’ve covered the majority of the frantic notes I took for further reflection immediately after viewing. It’s now been a few days, and I’m looking forward to rewatching this movie when I can hopefully take it in a bit more fully. This time, I won’t just be struggling to keep up with the madness on screen. My concluding thoughts at this point: Is it my favorite Adam movie? Certainly not. Is it the most unforgettable? Aside from my holy text, The Last Jedi, likely yes. It really is the sort of thing you have to see twice to even believe it. And all in all, I say again that Adam truly carried this movie, and he fully inhabits even its highest, most ludicrous aspirations. He’s downright abhorrent in this film, and that’s exactly what makes him such a fucking legend.

I plan to make a separate post in the coming days about my experience at Cannes and the Annette red carpet, since a few people have asked! I can’t even express how damn good it feels to be globetrotting for Adam-related experiences again. <3

Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to ask me any further questions at all here or on Twitter! :)

*SYNOPSIS INCLUDED BELOW. DO NOT READ FURTHER IF AVOIDING SPOILERS!*

Synopsis: Comedian Henry McHenry and opera singer Ann Defrasnoux are both at the pinnacle of their respective success when they fall in love and marry. The marriage is happy and passionate for a time, leading to the birth of their (puppet) daughter, Annette. But tabloids and much of the world believe the crude, brutish Henry is a poor match for refined, idolized Ann. Ann and Henry themselves both begin to feel that something is amiss – Henry gradually losing his touch for his comedy craft, claiming that being in love is making him ill. He repeatedly and sardonically references how Ann’s opera career involves her “singing and dying” every night, to the point that he sees visions of her “dead” body on the stage. Meanwhile, Ann has a nightmare of multiple women accusing Henry of abusive and violent behavior towards them, and she begins growing wary in his presence. (He never acts abusively towards her, unless you count that scene when he tickles her feet and licks her toes while she’s telling him to stop??? Yeah I know, WILD.)

The growing sense of unease, that they’re both teetering on the brink of disaster, culminates in the most deranged of Henry’s stand-up comedy performances, when he gives a vivid reenactment of killing his wife by “tickling her to death.” The performance is so maudlin and unsettling that you wonder whether he’s not making it up at all, and the audience strongly rebukes him. (This is the “What is your problem?!” scene with tiddies out. The full version includes Adam storming across the stage, furiously singing/yelling, “What the FUCK is your problem?!”) But when Henry arrives home that night, drunk and raucous, Ann and Annette are both unharmed.

The couple take a trip on their boat, bringing Annette with them. The boat gets caught in a storm, and Henry drunkenly insists that he and Ann waltz in the storm. She protests that it’s too dangerous and begs him to see sense. (SPOILER #1) The boat lurches when Henry spins her, and Ann falls overboard to her death. Henry rescues Annette from the sinking boat and rows them both to shore. He promptly falls unconscious, and a ghost of Ann appears, proclaiming her intention to haunt Henry through Annette. Annette (still a toddler at this point and yes, still a wooden puppet) then develops a miraculous gift for singing, and Henry decides to take her on tour with performances around the world. He enlists the help of his “conductor friend,” who had been Ann’s accompanist and secretly had an affair with her before she met Henry.

Henry slides further into drunken debauchery as the tour progresses, while the Conductor looks after Annette and the two grow close. Once the tour concludes, the Conductor suggests to Henry that Annette might be his own daughter – revealing his prior affair with Ann. Terrified by the idea of anyone finding out and the possibility of losing his daughter, Henry drowns the Conductor in the pool behind his and Ann’s house. Annette sees the whole thing happen from her bedroom window.

Henry plans one last show for Annette, to be held in a massive stadium at the equivalent of the Super Bowl. But when Annette takes the stage, she refuses to sing. Instead, she speaks and accuses Henry of murder. (“Daddy kills people,” are the actual words – not that that was creepy to hear as this puppet’s first spoken words or anything.)

Henry stands trial, during which he sees an apparition of Ann from when they first met. They sing their regret that they can’t return to the happiness they once shared, until the apparition is replaced by Ann’s vengeful spirit, who promises to haunt Henry in prison. After his sentencing (it’s not clear what the sentence was, but Henry definitely isn’t going free), Annette is brought to see him once in prison. Speaking fully for the first time, she declares she can’t forgive her parents for using her: Henry for exploiting her voice for profit and Ann for presumably using her to take vengeance on Henry. (Yes, this is why she was an inanimate doll moving on strings up to this point – there was some meaning in that strange, strange artistic choice. She was the puppet of her parents’ respective egotisms.) The puppet of Annette is abruptly replaced by a real girl in this scene, finally enabling two-sided interaction and a long-missed genuine connection between her and Henry, which made this quite the emotional catharsis. (SPOILER #2) It concludes with Annette still unwilling to forgive or forget what her parents have done, and swearing never to sing again. She says Henry now has “no one to love.” He appeals, “Can’t I love you, Annette?” She replies, “No, not really.” Henry embraces her one last time before a guard takes her away and Henry is left alone.

…..Yes, that is the end. It left me with major emotional whiplash, after the whole film up to this point kept pulling itself back from the total bleak and dark by starting up a new toe-tapping, mildly silly tune every few minutes. But this last scene instead ends on a brutal note of harsh, unforgiving silence.

BUT! Make sure you stick around through the credits, when you see the cast walking through a forest together. (This is counterpart to the film’s opening, when you see the cast walking through LA singing “So May We Start?” directly to the audience) Definitely pay attention to catch Adam chasing/playing with the little girl actress who plays Annette! That imparts a much nicer feeling to leave the theater with. :’)

#Adam Driver #Annette #Cannes 2021 #driverdaily #Annette spoilers

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

@sicktember Prompt # 28: Missing Out

Title: Unforgettable

Fandom: N/A

Based on this post as well as an ask box prompt. The prompt: “I’m currently dying for something set in a big house (any period) and the young master of the house has a party to attend but he feels awful and is trying to hide it and be a good host but keeps having to sneak off to cough/sneeze. Until maybe one guest notices and that’s how he meets his future wife.”

A young heir attends a Christmas party with his childhood friend as his date. They find themselves in an interesting position when he falls ill.

CW: Vomiting. 

(Author's note: Never written this time period before, but I would like to again in the future! I really enjoyed this prompt. And yes these two are definitely in love and will be married someday.)

The year is 1927, and two young men are seated in the back corner of a jazz club in New England, talking little as they sit, enjoying the music. As the band finishes their opening set and prepares to take a break, the older of the two men takes a deep drag from his cigarette, then glances at his companion.

"All ready for your parents' big Christmas shindig next weekend, Jesse?" 

Jesse rolled his eyes and scoffed, tapping a cigarette of his own out of the pack. "Sure John, of course. It's such a thrill to be a captive audience as they get smoked and strut around peacocking for their friends. Highlight of my whole year, that. Masquerade Ball, my ass. What drivel."

John chuckled, reclining back in his chair and taking another drag. "You're expected to bring a dame too, yeah?"

"Naturally. It'd be too bad for the heir of the Hamilton fortune to attend without a looker, wouldn't it? Shame all the women in this town are abhorrent."

John shook his head with another chuckle. "That attitude is why you're a perpetual bachelor, hombre. But I have some news that may interest you. Did you know Miss Greenwood is back in town?"

Jesse's interest was piqued in spite of himself. "Lillian Greenwood is back?"

"The very same. Home from university for the holidays."

Jesse leaned back in his chair, trying to look unbothered. "So what if she is. What's it to me?"

"Well I dunno, only that you might like to invite her to the Masq’. If memory serves, you never found her particularly abhorrent."

"We were kids!"

"You were damn near inseparable. You don't *have* to do anything, Jess. But as your oldest friend, I'm asking you to think on it. You'd enjoy the party more if you had company, and I'm sure she'd like to see her old stomping grounds again. Just something to consider is all."

Jesse made no reply as the band resumed the stage just then, but he did indeed think on it very hard.

***

John's information was proven true only a day later. Jesse was just exiting a drugstore he frequented with a fresh carton of cigarettes when he caught the eye of Lillian Greenwood, who was just about to enter the same store, and looking very fetching in a blue fitted coat and hat. Both their eyes widened in surprise upon seeing each other, and for a moment they were speechless. 

"Jesse?" Lillian finally said, a slow grin spreading over her face, so familiar to him. "It's been at least an age!" She seized his hands in hers, reaching up on tiptoes to peck him on the cheek. "How are you? I've missed you!"

"Lil!" He wrapped her in a hug. "I've missed you too! What are you doing back in this dump, accomplished University woman that you are now? I'm surprised you didn't run in the opposite direction from here a long time ago."

"Well I haven't graduated yet, silly. And I couldn't miss another Christmas at home. I missed everyone here so much. Oh Jesse, it's so good to see you!" She hugged him fiercely again. "You must tell me everything you've been up to! Come inside while I shop before we freeze."

He willingly followed her back in, looking fondly at the soft brown hair brushing across her shoulders. He was so sick of the horrid bobs all the girls were wearing, and he loved that Lillian was still wearing hers longer.

He trailed her through the whole store, gamely answering the barrage of questions she directed at him, but mostly content to enjoy her familiar presence. Eventually she stopped short, turning to face him.

"Are you all right? You're very quiet. You've hardly said anything."

"I'm sorry. Just worn out I guess. Been working extra before the holidays."

"You are looking a bit peaky. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jabber your ear off."

"No it's fine, honest. I'm just happy to see you."

"Likewise." She gave his hand a little squeeze, accompanied by a warm smile. Knowing he wasn't going to get a better opportunity, he took a deep breath.

"Lilli, do you remember that big bash my parents host every year for Christmas?"

"Oh yes!" she said, her eyes lighting up in pleasure. "It was my favorite part of the holidays!" 

"No kidding? Well anyway, they still throw it. The last few years they changed it to a Masquerade Ball, but otherwise it's still just like it was. It's a week from Saturday. I know you just got into town and all, and maybe you already have plans… but what do you think about going with me as my date?"

Lillian's grin was immediate, and she clasped her hands together joyfully. "Oh Jess, I'd love that! Just like old times."

Jesse rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to smile. "Yeah, I guess. Same old dumb party. Like I said, if you're busy, don't worry about it. But you're welcome to come… if you want and all."

She looked confused and a little hurt at his abrupt backtracking. "Of course I want to come. I'll be there."

"Great. I better get going though. I'll call you in a few days to give you the details. It was great to see you, Lil." He pecked her on the cheek. "I'll see you around, kid."

He strode out of the store with hardly a backwards glance, leaving her shocked face in his wake. He hated himself for behaving that way, and he wasn't even sure why he did it. Perhaps it was because the "old times" she was referring to included the present he was stuck in, while she had clearly moved on. Perhaps it was the realization that he had resorted to asking his childhood best friend on a date rather than finding a real date to avoid the embarrassment of attending his parents' party unaccompanied. But whatever the reason, speaking to her had made him equal parts thrilled and miserable. Surprisingly, when he called her a few days later as promised, she again agreed to accompany him, despite his rude behavior in the drug store, and continued to insist she was excited for the party, despite his constant negativity towards it.

***

The Saturday before Christmas dawned bright and snowy, and the Hamilton estate was in an uproar all day with last-minute preparations. Every surface was bedecked for the holidays with ribbons and garlands and tinsel and wreaths and holly and candles. A Christmas tree stood in every room, making the whole house aromatic, each twinkling and topped with a star. When evening rolled in, so too did the guests, all as twinkling and bedecked as the house, filling every room in no time. The Masquerade Ball had begun.

Lillian arrived promptly. Jesse met her in the foyer. Even wearing a mask, she was easily recognizable. She looked stunning in a sparkling gown that accented her figure perfectly. Her eyes were a color that would be easier called unique than pretty, her nose a touch irregular, and her teeth a touch crooked, but Jesse had always found her beautiful. Yet he was in a foul temper, and had been the whole day, and seeing her gave him little pleasure. He noted she had pinned up her hair so it appeared “bobbed” like everyone else's, and even such a simple thing soured his mood further. Upon seeing her initially, he took her hand and kissed it, then gave a sarcastic bow. 

“Welcom, Lillian dear. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he said, trying to keep his tone civil

She curtsied daintily, smiling warmly. “The pleasure is all mine. You look very dashing and alluring in that mask.”

He chucked coldly. “You’re looking spiffy yourself, kid. Well, shall we get on with it?” He offered her his arm, which she took, almost hesitantly.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “You seem… not yourself.”

“Fine and dandy. Ready to cut a rug and show a girl a good time. Let’s not keep the evening waiting.” He didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm out of his tone, but continued to tug her toward the dining room, albeit gently. She reluctantly followed, casting him worried glances. 

The young Master Hamilton performed his part admirably through the whole evening, however, donning the persona of the host as easily as he did his mask. He chatted and danced and flirted with the appropriate people, giving Lilli adequate attention as required as well. His mother must have been pleased, for the night was a smashing success, from the dinner to the dancing to the decor. Everyone was raving the whole evening about what a splendid party it was. The best one yet, everyone said, just as they said every year. 

Jesse, however, was utterly miserable. The bodies packing every room made him too warm, the lights were too bright, the music and din of talking made his head throb, the food smells turned his stomach, and the aroma of pine everywhere left him feeling on the verge of a sneeze all night, especially since his nose had been on the verge of dripping since he awoke. He could only nibble the rich supper. He was barely able to swallow even small sips of Christmas punch without feeling the urge to gag. 

In order to keep his sanity, whenever Lillian was occupied talking to someone and he wasn't otherwise engaged, he would duck into one of the unused side parlors. In this sanctuary, away from the lights and sounds and smells, he removed his mask and composed himself. He would first allow himself to sneeze unhindered, finally able to stop his incessant stifling and sniffling, each time surprising himself at how wet and messy and ill they sounded. Then, if he hadn't been gone too long, he would rest his face against the icy window pane, breathing slowly and deeply as a halo of condensation spread out from his hot forehead. Inevitably though, the time would come when he was forced to replace his mask and reenter the ball before he was missed. He counted down the hours desperately, willing himself to last until the end of the party.

The evening began to wind down, and Jesse found himself ducking away more and more frequently. His stomach was in knots and his nausea was gradually rising, so composure was getting harder to maintain. He always checked to ensure Lilli was involved in a conversation before he did so, however. Imagine his surprise then, when moments after he snuck into his sanctuary yet again, he heard the door open after him and Lillian appeared just as he had given over to a violent sneezing jag:

Hiihhh'GEHSSSH'ieeew! ESSSHH'yuuh! Hrrr'USH'IIEWW! Kuhh-hhiiih-ISSSHYUUH!"

"Bless you, Jesse! Heavens, that was a fit! Are you alright?" she asked, approaching him and removing her own mask. "Have you been sneezing like that all night? You keep disappearing."

He flashed the most winning smile he could muster even as he wiped the mess from his face. "I'm just ducky," he said, swallowing thickly as his stomach also decided to give a nasty lurch. "All the pine in the air gets me sneezing. Must be a bit allergic. Sorry for worrying you. Let's go back out before we're missed. I think I owe you a dance or two."

She ignored his rambling and came to stand directly in front of him with a searching look. She lifted a hand and brought the back of it to his sweaty forehead. She clucked softly.

"You're sick, aren't you? You're not feeling well at all."

The thin facade that was holding him together finally crumbled. He limply leaned against the wall, nodding mutely. 

"Why didn't you say something? You should be in bed. You look awful."

"I didn't want to spoil the evening," he mumbled. 

"Well we need to get you out of here. You look like you're about to collapse."

"I am about to collapse," he said ruefully.

"Come on then. No one will miss us anyway. Let's go up the servants' steps over here so we're not seen."

"I don't want you to miss out on the ball. You looked like you were having fun."

She caressed his cheek fondly. "I came here tonight to spend time with you. I'm not missing out on anything."

They shared a smile, his first genuine one of the night. Then she took him by the hand and led him expertly along the least conspicuous route to his bedroom. The pair of them had spent hours exploring every inch of this house from top to bottom as children, every cupboard, cranny, and corner. He hadn't forgotten those times, and clearly she hadn't either. 

It was strange bringing her back to his room. They had spent hours together here too during their growing-up years. He couldn't help but imagine it through her eyes--what was different, what was the same. He realized bitterly that the only thing that was really different was the lack of toys and games everywhere. His room was a reflection of his life--boring and stagnant.

If she was thinking along those lines, she gave no indication. Instead she led him to his bed with a hand at the small of his back, guiding him into a sitting position and helping him remove his jacket and tie. His shirt clung to his back with sweat, and heat rolled off of him in waves. The drier air up here made him begin to cough as soon as he sat, the sound hoarse and desperate. She made a sympathetic sound as she carded her fingers through his damp hair, then dug through his dresser, pulling out a set of his pajamas and tossing them over. 

"Make yourself more comfortable, and I'll do the same." She headed to his en suite bathroom. "I'll be right back. Try to relax, Jess." She gave him a little smile, which he attempted to return, a hand going to his sore stomach even as he did.

Once the bathroom door was closed behind her, he slowly changed into his pajama bottoms and managed to strip down to his undershirt. All at once, his stomach had had enough, and he knew he was going to vomit. With the bathroom occupied, the next available option was the balcony off of his room. He dashed outside to the railing, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground below, heaving until he had nothing left. As the spasms slowed, his vision began to go gray and wobbly. He sank to his knees weakly, unable to do anything else, clinging to the railing in the freezing cold, which at first felt pleasant on his fevered skin. 

He wasn't sure how long he knelt there, and it would have been even longer had Lillian not come out to find him. By the time she did, he was shivering so violently that his teeth rattled in his head. She was speaking to him, but he couldn't register what she was saying. Finally she pulled him bodily to his feet and helped him inside, her arm wrapped around his waist as she supported most of his weight. She again led him to his bed, making him lie down this time and bundling blankets over his icy cold skin while she sat at his side. His consciousness solidified and the world stopped spinning, and eventually he noticed that while she was still wearing her party dress, she had removed her makeup and unpinned her hair, looking more like her old self. The thought made him marginally warmer. 

"Let me go fetch some tea for you, and some medicine," she murmured, stroking his hair. She stood and tried to pull away, but he quickly grabbed her wrist, his grasp surprisingly strong. 

"Don't go," he rasped, choking back a cough. "I don't want tea or medicine. It'll only make me vomit again. Just stay."

"Stay…" she repeated. "Right. I suppose I could stay."

She went to pull a chair to his bedside, but he stopped her.

"No, come lie here with me."

"Jesse…" she began. "That's not--"

"Why shouldn't you? You were my date. It's what everyone is expecting anyway," he said, a glint of humor in his eye.

She laughed in spite of herself. "I suppose there is that." Against her better judgement, she crossed to the other side of his bed and slipped under the blankets, trying to be mindful of her dress as she got comfortable. He immediately rolled over and nestled against her, and she wrapped an arm around him and began to rub his back soothingly.

They passed the night exactly like that. He was exhausted and very ill, and was clearly miserable the whole night through. However, he refused to let her leave the bed to fetch him anything and only wanted to lie against her all night as he slipped in and out of sleep. She vaguely recalled him being the same way when they were young, but she certainly hadn't expected such behavior tonight. Then again, she hadn't expected to be sharing his bed either. 

He slept fitfully, his symptoms keeping him from true rest despite his weariness. Away from the pine trees his sneezing was less, but the congestion and coughing was worse. He was achy and nauseous and too hot or too cold. He also wanted to be touching her at all times, so she slept even less, for between his tossing and groaning and his sweltering fever heat, she could not get comfortable. Yet she knew he needed her this way tonight, and was glad to be able to help her oldest friend. 

The morning dawned gray and cold. Lillian lay awake still, while Jesse was at last sleeping beside her, his face tucked into her side. She was trying to decide how best to convince him to let her go home and change when an opportunity for escape presented itself in the form of his mother.

Lillian heard her well before she saw her, for her best shoes clattered loudly on the stairs, and her inebriated giggling and whispering was impossible to miss. It was almost certain she hadn't gone to bed after the party. Lillian quickly slipped out from under Jesse's arm and slid to the floor, ducking under the bed. Just because Jesse seemed to think she was expected to spend the night with him did not mean she wanted to be caught in it, especially by Mrs. Hamilton, regardless of what did or did not happen. 

Mrs. Hamilton attempted to be stealthy as she peeked into her son's room, but only his fever-induced slumber prevented him from waking. However, even while intoxicated, what they say about a mother's sense is true, for she apparently noted something amiss and crept closer to her son's bed. Lillian could only see her feet and legs, but she assumed she Mrs. Hamilton reached out to feel her son's forehead, for the elder woman made a little sound of dismay and began to shake him awake. 

"Jesse, you're burning up! Oh my, what happened? Are you sick? Did it start at the ball? How long have you not felt well? Oh you're so pale! And you're shivering! My poor baby! What can I do?..." It seemed she had no end of exclamations and questions. Lillian couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Meanwhile Jesse made sounds of waking, sounding very irritated and confused at first. He didn't realize what was happening initially, and Lillian heard him say her name more than once. Thankfully his mother did not notice over the sound of her own constant flow of verbalized concern. Eventually Jesse realized who was speaking to him and began to give appropriate answers, leaving Lillian out of most of it, which the young woman appreciated. 

Mrs. Hamilton didn't stop speaking the entire time she was in the room. Eventually though it became clear she intended to fetch a doctor, tea, medicine, and one hundred other things for her son's illness. Jesse spoke only as much as he had to, his voice weak and hoarse and congested. He did not argue with her about any of it, knowing it was futile. Finally the well-meaning woman left, still talking even as she shut the door behind herself. 

Lillian gingerly rolled out from under the bed, startling Jesse when she appeared beside him out of nowhere. However a grin split his face when their eyes met.

"I thought you left me without saying goodbye," he rasped. 

"Well now you see I haven't. I do need to leave now though, before your mother returns with an army of doctors and finds me here. I would also like to change my clothes at some point and freshen up. Perhaps take a bit of a nap."

He looked devastated at this, but perked up as she continued:

"I'll come back soon though, as a proper visitor. I don't fancy ducking under the bed whenever anyone comes up the stairs."

"All right," he sighed. "I'll be waiting for you, then." 

She approached him, pressing her lips to his hair as he hugged her fiercely. 

"Be well, Jess. I'll see you soon." She moved to the doorway, her eyes twinkling in a smile. "And thanks for a great night. That was a date I'll never forget."

#sickfic #everyone is hotter with a fever #sicktember2021 #prompt 28

[folkloreguk]

Querencia (prequel)

A/N: I haven’t written anything in this format in so long, so I hope it’s okay! Someone once asked me to write a prequel to my previous work “Querencia”, so I finally got around to it (after like 2 years rip dfghjk)

[!you don’t have to read both of these parts to understand either one!]

genre: optional bias (male) x reader (female), fluff, explaining how they ended up together, a tiny bit of smut but it’s marked so you can skip if you want, badboy!bias, nerd/shy!reader, her parents are kinda judgemental (only mentioned), secret relationship?, this is an absolute train wreck lmao

words: ~5.2 k

(H/N means “his name”)

ok strap in for this…every time I write a badboy!au I lose a piece of my sanity

basically you used to go to the same school as him

but that’s the only association you had with him because you never actually talked to him in school

he was known to be a “bad boy”

not as in being a horrible person but rather…

he liked to challenge teachers/adults when he didn’t agree with them

and they couldn’t do much because he ended up having pretty decent grades and most of the time his arguments were valid

you had heard your fair share of stories about him

of him getting into a fight with the captain of the football team

apparently, he had stood up for a girl because said captain tried to take advantage of her at a party when she was drunk

you remember being lowkey impressed but didn’t condone violence either way

so, at the same time you were kind of intimidated by him

there were other stories circulating around

of him hooking up with half the school

in quite inappropriate places if I may add

but no one really knew what was the truth tbh

not that it really mattered to you

you were a typical good-girl-nerd-kinda person and so was your friend group

which meant you weren’t even paying attention to him half of the time

plus you thought you’d never see him again after graduating from school

until sooner or later you wouldn’t be given any other choice

because when you walked into your first ever university lecture, he was there

literally one row in front of you???

you were shook because apparently he was studying the same subject as you??

he had even more tattoos and piercings now

one tattoo covered almost the whole front of his neck

he had black boots on and his pants were ripped at the knees

and obviously he had to be wearing a leather jacket

not that you were staring at him (yes you were)

frankly you thought he looked hot

great it’s your first day and you’re already failing to pay attention

and then he turned his head a little and smirked at you???

suddenly you loved looking at your professor and not him

but since you hadn’t paid attention you were left with questions after the lecture

unfortunately the professor was gone before you could ask them

and your social awkwardness made it hard for you to just start talking to a random stranger

so when he go up and made his way to the end of the seats he had to walk past you

“HEy I have a question” you blurted out when he was at your level

the fact that he was so relaxed talking to you made you even more stressed

and he helped you luckily

then, before he could say anything else but the answer to your question, you had escaped the conversation

because perhaps you still found him a little intimidating

but when you walked out of the hall, he quickly caught up to you

“Hold on, do I know you? You seem familiar” he asked

so you had no choice but to explain to him that you went to school together

he was actually really polite to you

but you had sworn yourself education would come first for you, boys second

so you got out of that situation as quickly as possible

the next two weeks you saw him at lectures but always kept out of his way

he said hello a few times and you would nod and smile shyly

within days he had collected a bunch of girls that often sat with him

you guessed he was staying true to his reputation after all

then one day you were in the lovely park behind your university building because you had a break between lectures

you had brought old bread to feed the ducks in the little pond

but suddenly they all swam away from you, over to the other side of the pond

and you couldn’t BELIEVE

he was sitting there, throwing pieces of his perfectly fine sandwich to the ducks all while putting on an extra holy expression

so you went over to fight (not literally lmao)

he greeted you by saying “The ducks made you stop avoiding me?”

you were shook because how did he even notice

“What? You don’t have enough girl-attention yet?” you said

“Not from pretty girls like you” he said

you must have given him a severely disgusted look because he quickly changed his flirty expression

“What made you avoid me? Did I ever say something wrong to you?” he asked

“No you didn’t…you just don’t seem like the crowd I’d hang out with” you confessed

“Wow, I didn’t take you for the judgmental kind” he said

and he looked pretty upset actually??

“I don’t think you’re a bad person” you said

“But I’m home at least by 9 pm every night to study, my parents look at me like I’m a saint, I’ve never been in a relationship and I get nervous when someone as much as raises their voice at me…you strike me as the complete opposite of all those things” you added

without missing a beat, he asked “Don’t they say opposites attract?”

you realized maybe you really had written him off too soon…or perhaps you had worried that he would take your attention off your studies too much

which wouldn’t have been surprising considering how your first lecture with him had gone

and from then on you tried to be nicer to him

sometimes he voluntarily came to sit next to you in class

you didn’t understand why

because you barely spoke to him due to being awkward and when you did you felt like he judged you for being so shy

he had a way with words and within days you found yourself thinking of him more

his stupidly handsome features, tattooed knuckles and pierced eyebrow…it all attracted you maybe a little too much

it was terrifying to you…how he talked to you so easily and already you were eating right off his spoon

what if he was only playing around and you were nothing but a toy girl to him

but then you cursed yourself for saying that…he said he wasn’t a bad person and you were going to believe so unless he proved himself otherwise

spoiler: that never happened

one autumn night you walked out of university after class, it was dark already and pouring rain

you realized you had forgotten your umbrella at home…but you had to walk there by foot…absolutely fantastic

so you pulled your hood over your head and braced yourself to get completely soaked within seconds

suddenly you heard a voice behind you

“Let me bring you home” he said

“No worries, I’m fine” you tried to tell him

“Come on. You said you live twenty minutes from here. If you get on my motorbike I’ll get you home within a few minutes” he said

you were like “Motorbike??”

“Yeah, come on, it’s over there” he said, and he walked ahead of you

basically he didn’t really give you time to argue

when you didn’t follow him right away, he turned around and gave you a look

“You’ll only get a cold if you walk home in this weather” he said

although your parents had drilled into you the idea that motorbikes were dangerous, you went with him after all

he offered you his spare helmet and you put it on

but you were struggling to close it

so he helped you

he was focused on the helmet, but you were staring at him just because you could

his hair was completely soaked by now and water drops were running down his black leather jacket

he had a habit of biting the inside of his cheek when he was concentrating

and with his hands almost on your face, it was the closest he’s ever been to you

it made you weirdly nervous tbh

but before you knew it he had closed the helmet and told you to get onto the motorcycle behind him

“Hold on to the back of the bike or to me” he said

you were surprised at how he didn’t urge you to touch him

and at first you held on to the tail of the motorcycle but the moment you hit a speed bump you changed your mind QUICKLY

your arms swung around his waist tightly and you felt his chest move when he chuckled

like he had said, it only took a few minutes to get you home, and you told him the way there

and surprisingly you really liked being on the motorcycle???

you had thought you’d be scared but it felt amazing

except for how freezing cold the wind was on your wet cheeks ☹

shortly before you pulled up in your street you told him

“You should let me get off a little earlier…my mom will kill me if she sees me on a motorbike”

he didn’t argue but stopped two houses before yours

you felt like the rain had gotten even worse so you really didn’t have time for big words

you quickly thanked him and he gave you his famous smirk before you ran home as quickly as possible

when you had reached the front door you turned his way and he was still there, making sure you got inside

looking at him there, in the downpour in his cool jacket and on his motorcycle, your cheeks involuntarily got hotter

when you got into your room that night and checked your phone, you had one new message on Instagram

you opened it and it was from him???

“Take a warm shower or you’ll be sick tomorrow” it said

he must had sent it seconds after you had entered your house before he had driven away

he really became a bigger mystery to you from one day to the other

because you had no idea what all of this meant???

maybe you should have gotten the hint way earlier

but you didn’t really know the first thing about dating so how were you supposed to know?

but then around two weeks later something else occurred

again, you had class until the early evening

on this specific day, your university was hosting a party for the new students

technically, you would have fallen into that group of new students

but you weren’t one for partying and after being in class for hours on end, all you wanted was to crawl into your bed and rest

so when your course had ended you made your way out of the university building

and you could tell the party had already started because of the music playing

plus there were people all over the place

some were already drunk…you would have been surprised but also this was university after all

you quickly stepped out onto the street and began walking in the direction of your home

from somewhere, you suddenly heard voices

they were making gross noises, as if calling a cat, and asking “sweetheart, do you have a minute?”

when you turned your head, you saw a group of (most certainly) drunk men-boys goggling at you

and because you didn’t slow down or even react to them, they walked after you

you told yourself they would leave you alone if you only walked far enough from the bus station they had waited at

but inside your pocket you clenched your keys between your knuckles

all of a sudden, something touched your shoulders

you almost had a heart attack and raised your hand out of your pocket

“You didn’t wait for me” H/N said from next to you

he placed his infamous leather jacket around your frame and swung an arm around your shoulder

you were about to tell him he had scared the living hell out you

but he was only glaring at the disgusting guys behind you

“I suggest you go home and sleep it off. And learn to take a hint from a girl when she’s this visibly uninterested” he said

the enraged stare he sent to the group of young men made even you feel slightly uneasy

but it worked…they distanced themselves from you if only hesitantly and with a clearly pissed off attitude

“Thank you” you said and were about to give him back his jacket

“Nothing to thank me for. And I gave you that because your sweater looks really thin. Keep it for now” he said

you were taken aback…as always

“Why aren’t you driving your motorbike today?”

“I am, but it’s parked around the corner here. Want me to drive you home?” he asked

and he gave the look again

which look you may ask

the one in which he stared at your eyes and then at your lips…and then your eyes…and then your lips

and his lips were so pretty

“You know what I want?” you asked, “I wanna know if there’s anything you want from me”

he furrowed his brows in confusion

“Why are you always being like this to me?” you went on

“Are you trying to get into my pants?” you blurted out

and then instantly regretted it  

especially when he said “Do I really seem like that kind of person?”

“I’ve heard stories about you…” you said

“What kind of stories?” he asked

“Of you hooking up with half of our school back then” you said

he laughed???

and then said “And does it matter how many people I’ve had sex with?”

“It makes me think that’s what you want from me, too. And if that’s the case, I’ll have to disappoint you” you said

“Jesus, Y/N. I want to date you” he said

when I say you were shocked it would be an understatement

hot-tattooed-bad-boy wanted to date you??

and you must have signaled those exact words just by your expression

because he said “I’m telling you again, opposites attract. Don’t you at least wanna give it a try?”

of course you wanted to

“Alright…but I’ve never done this before” you said

“We’ll take it slow, I promise” he said

and then “That means I can finally tell you how goddamn adorable you are”

was it gonna be like this forever??? he compliments you and you feel like your cheeks are on fire???

probably

“I’ll bring you home, come on” he said, swinging his arm around your shoulder again

even this gesture made you shy

you didn’t even know how to respond

and this time, being behind him on the motorbike felt like a whole new sensation

now you were close to him, knowing he wanted you there as much as you did…

and it 100% made you scream on the inside

when he dropped you off, you didn’t know if you were supposed to hug him???

you awkwardly handed him his jacket back

“So, where are we going on our first date?” he asked

“First date?” you asked

“Yeah…people who date usually go on dates, don’t they?” he teased you

“Um…what about the cinema?” you suggested

“Fine, let’s see what they’re showing and I’ll text you, okay?” he said

and he texted you remotely fifteen minutes after you had arrived at home that night

…

so you went to the cinema the next day

before the date, you were essentially losing your mind

what were you supposed to wear??

would he care what you wore??

but even if he didn’t, you wanted to look pretty

your anxiety was kind of going through the roof for hours before he even arrived

he had picked you up, somehow looking even hotter than usually??

or maybe those were just your hormones going insane

“You look beautiful” he said when you had climbed onto the motorbike behind him

“And you look handsome” you had replied

his smile had a faint shyness in it, but only for the blink of a second

at the cinema, you weren’t sure how to act differently around a crush than when you were with friends tbh

did you want to hold his hand?? hell yeah

did you do it?? absolutely not

did you want to point out obsessed you were with his body art?? most certainly

did you?? oh no way, you weren’t gonna expose yourself like that (yet)

luckily, he was easy to talk to and had the patience of a saint

he grinned at you when you would become shy, as if it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing EVER to you, especially in front of him

he also probably called you cute like 13 times whilst you were waiting for the movie to begin alone

in the dark, your hands brushed whenever you both reached for the popcorn at the same time

when you looked over at him, he was chuckling

“Are you doing that on purpose?” he whispered

“No way!” you whispered back

“No? I am” he said

you didn’t even know how to respond to that

but he seemed very pleased with himself when he tilted his head at you flirtingly

were there supposed to be this many butterflies in your belly at only your first date?

what have I gotten myself into??? you thought

…

afterwards you walked back to his motorcycle, shoulders brushing now and then

you were in the middle of analyzing every second of the film you had watched, gesturing around in the air and talking excitedly

he leaned against his motorbike and grinned at you in pure admiration while he listened

mid-sentence you suddenly said “Sorry, did I get too invested in this? Do you wanna bring me home now?”

“What? No, if anything I wanna listen to you for another few hours” he said “Do you wanna come back to my place?”

you didn’t know if he was flirting or joking again, but his face was serious

plus you weren’t sure what ‘coming back to his place’ really intended

and once again his sense for reading your mind struck

“I’m not talking about having sex, if that’s why you look so worried. This is only our first date, remember? If you simply don’t feel like it, that’s cool, I’ll bring you home” he said

“No, I want to go with you” you quickly changed your mind “But I have to be home by midnight, or my parents will worry”

“I’ll get you back home by then” he said, smiling in triumph

…

his flat impressed you in a couple of ways

you admired that he already lived alone

plus it was so much more organized and cleaner than you had expected it from a college boy

his bedroom was your favorite part of the apartment

there was no doubt it was his and only his place

posters of his favorite films were plastered on the walls, his bedsheets were dark, a neon sign hung above the headboard of his bed and in the corner, a vinyl player stood

you loved the windowsill that gave you a view out of the fifth-floor flat and had the impulse to sit down there, to watch the cars pass by on the street underneath

“make yourself at home” he had said

and somehow you had ended up on his bed, right next to him

he let you rest your head on his arm while he listened to you

not only did you discuss the movie you had seen

you also talked about literally anything either of you loved

and you realized quickly, that aside from the different way of living, you had surprisingly many things in common

he put on his favorite plate on the vinyl player so you could listen to the music he loved

when he laid down next to you again, he offered his open arms

for the first time, you put your cheek against his chest, listening not only to the music but also his heartbeat

you remember liking his cologne and how warm he was

“I’ve never been so close to someone who wasn’t my friend or family” you admitted quietly

“Does it feel different?” he asked

“Of course” you said

did he not realize???

how your heart hammered against your ribcage and butterflies were flooding your belly and how there was only him in your head and his stupid cute smile and his tattoos and piercings and deep voice and ohmygodhisvoice

but when you looked up from his chest and checked his expression, he looked equally as fond as you felt

“Being with you feels different from being with other girls to me, too” he said

“It feels so much better” he added then

“What do you see in me that you don’t see in them?” you asked suddenly

“I have to admit, at first I thought it was cute, teasing you and seeing you get shy, well, I guess it still is. I liked the idea of getting to know someone with such a completely different image, so sweet and good” he said

and as he did, he softly brushed his hand over your lip

you thought you were going to have a heart attack

“But damn you’re so funny and kind…how can I not want you this way?” he said

and he looked so honest, almost vulnerable, a sight you never thought you’d see

“In which way?” you asked

“In every way” he said

and with one look, he erased all fears you’d had about him and how he might have felt about you

suddenly you understood why people went on dates all the time and searched for love…

at some point you realized how it was past midnight already

he drove you home quickly, and luckily you didn’t get into too much trouble with your parents

this time when he dropped you off, he gave you a hug that made you want to stay in his arms forever

from then on, your feelings could only get worse and you were stressed about what it would do to you

you thought your crush was bad then?? it was nothing

within the next weeks, you fell head over heels for the cliché bad boy and there was no way to stop it

you had told him you didn’t want to prioritize a relationship over your education

so 90% of your dates ended up being study dates

although he was the biggest distraction in your life, this way you at least got a little something done

usually, it went a little like this:

you’d be sitting down at a library table, with him across from you

your head would be buried in a book within minutes, only occasionally looking up at him

and he’d be busy telling you all things he could possibly come up with:

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are? I know, even if you’re not looking at me”

“There’s a really cute girl here, but she’s ignoring me. Do you think she likes me too?”

“Hey, do you wanna go out with me sometime, like…on a date? A real date?”

“You know what other people do at the library? There’s an empty space way in the back, I can show you…”

yes sometimes he’d say suggestive things to you

but they were jokes, simply a part of his character

he never pressured you to do anything

even your first kiss took a while to occur

it was one night when he brought you home from a date (this time a real one)

when you said your goodbyes, you suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of affection

his eyes were so warm and only on you, always

softly, his tongue swept over his bottom lip, teeth toying with his piercing

“Can you kiss me?” you asked

something sparked in his eyes…he had won even more of your trust, and rightfully so

his fingers gently lifted your chin, and you always thought you’d be nervous through your first kiss, but no…it was serenity

it was butterflies peacefully floating and fireworks going off all at the same time

had you known how good this felt, you would have asked him to kiss you way earlier tbh

the whole evening until you fell asleep you couldn’t stop smiling

and you liked to think even in slumber, the corners of your mouth had been curled upwards because of him

from then on, kissing him had turned into your favorite pastime

it was especially bad when you tried to have “study dates” at his place

90% of the time, your studying turned into making out with him

oh? you’re taking a break and getting a glass of water from the kitchen? oops now you’re on his sofa, sitting in his lap and kissing

the way he handled you with such confidence and made flirty remarks all the way through your make-out-sessions only reminded you of his experience

sometimes you felt bad, knowing he was holding himself back

other days you wished he wasn’t so hesitant with touching you less innocently

but sometimes you did stop him, if his hands wandered a little too far down your torso, or if things seemed to get too steamy

he would always apologize, even if you told him there was nothing wrong

but his confidence made you feel more comfortable with every time you were in his arms

!!!SMUT AHEAD IN ITALICS

one day you were in the middle of watching a movie on his bed

but all you had been thinking of were his lips and hands

when you kissed him, things quickly turned more intense

only this time you asked him to go further

initially, he was worried

“I wish I could make this more special for you” he said

“If it’s with you, it’s perfect, no matter where and when” you assured him

the first time, he was the most gentle he’s ever been with you

because he had never pressured you and you had chosen this exact moment yourself, you weren’t even close to as nervous as you thought you’d be

and from then on, you only became more comfortable when it came to sex

you could tell he loved showing you and trying new things with you

and before you knew it, he was actually showing you that empty space at the back of the library he had joked about

usually, you were hesitant to do anything risky in public

but when it was late and the library was nearing closing hours, it was almost fully vacant

he could never get enough of your innocent eyes while your lips were wrapped around his cock, kneeling on the carpet floor of the university library in front of him

he’d never get over when he fucked you from behind, two of his fingers in your mouth, muffling your moans while you were hidden behind the bookshelves

other nights he’d show up outside of your house in the middle of the night, just because he missed you so much

*cough* querencia *cough*

there was something about nighttime that made you feel as if you were the only two people in the world

then it would be him and you in his bed, on his kitchen counter, his sofa, his shower or any random wall of his apartment

now you might have understood why the girls loved him

but they didn’t love him the way you did

!!!SMUT ENDING

he loved showing you off to his friends

some of them looked equally as intimidating as him

but as you had learned, most of that was simply looks and wasn’t to be taken seriously

when you hung out with his friends, he had you sitting in his lap, usually bragging about something you had done or said to him

you were like his personal, pretty gem and he was making sure everyone knew

and as much as he wanted you to be known to his friends, you wished you could have told your parents about him

one day, they would understand how much you loved him

they would be able to look past his tattoos and pierced skin and see how amazing he was

but for now, he was your little secret

every night, he sent you a goodnight text right before you went to sleep

sometimes he’d attach a picture of himself

in his pajamas, with messy hair and heavy eyelids, even he looked almost cute to you

other nights, when he was still out, it’d be a mirror selfie, with his hair pushed back perfectly, lifting his head so you’d see your favorite tattoo of his on his neck

his clothes pitch black and shirt lazily tucked into his belt on one side

his eyes would have the cocky gaze you knew from when you first met him

only now it was only meant for you

his message would read:

“I love you angel. See you in your dreams”

#optional bias #optional bias smut #bts smut #bts scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #ikon smut #ikon scenarios #btob smut #pentagon smut #pentagon scenarios #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #nct smut #nct scenarios #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #monsta x scenarios #monsta x smut #txt scenarios #x1 scenarios #onlyoneof scenarios #onlyoneof smut #the boyz scenarios #the boyz smut #a.c.e smut #a.c.e scenarios #winner scenarios #golden child smut #golden child scenarios

[mvnvgedmischief]

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter:  4/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse

words: 3. 8 k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Sirius knew that work was going to be high stress all day. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about the way he would continuously have to talk to people, when all he wanted was some peace. He wanted downtime. Time when he didn’t have to think about how he needed his paycheck to put food on the table, clothes on his brother’s back, pay bills to keep his lights on, wifi for homework. Regulus occupied his thoughts at all times, protecting him was Sirius’s only priority these days. He didn’t have time for anything else. Not his friends, not his interests, not music. Nothing could come between his focus and his brother’s wellbeing, because if it did, Sirius would never forgive himself. The consequences were too dire. So instead, he just wished for downtime that wouldn’t come, and prayed for the weekend to approach even faster. 

The weekend, when he could finally sleep again, albeit not well. The weekend, when he had the time to take a breath, even if it was only brief. Because his weekends were also spent finding ways to better equip his apartment for his younger brother, going to long grocery runs so Regulus had lunch to take to school, meal prepping all of the things he couldn’t bring himself to eat for dinner. He was definitely tired of all of the ways his mind was spiraling out, he didn’t have the time. He didn’t fault Regulus for it, it wasn’t the teen's presence in his life that was causing all this stress. It really was his own fault. A bit of crying at that first hearing had given Walburga and Orion the satisfaction of a victory over him at that first hearing, and they seemed to crave more of that chaos. They wanted to watch their children suffer, and this was how they chose to do that. So instead he spiraled in the privacy of his own home, because he could practically hear the words they burned into his mind whenever he saw them, and feel the ache of old beatings. 

But it was only Thursday, and that meant he still had to do this all day, and  then get berated by the rest of the team for not attending their weekly bonding happy hour. If he was lucky,  no  one would ask him to go. He knew he should be less terrified of them asking, most of the people on his team were his friends. There was simply the question of Remus, and Sirius didn’t have the time to be thinking about him in the first place. 

He didn’t have time to think about  the way his hair curled just the right way to fall into his eyes when he slept, or the way his caramel freckles made him look sunkist. He didn’t have time to think about the  pink scars that ran down Remus’s face or how they got there. He definitely didn;’t have time to think of the comfort  of his hand combing through Sirius’s own mop of unruly curls. So instead, he needs to  put  all of that out  of his mind. It wasn’t going to help him do well at work. It wasn’t going to solve his problems. He didn’t have the  time for this, nor did he have the emotional bandwidth. Perhaps that was why Sirius was conveniently avoiding the idea that he had asked Remus on a date. With some luck, Remus would think he was just an asshole who ghosted him. That was definitely complicated by the fact that they worked together, that he couldn’t just disappear. He wanted to, he really did, because there was simply no time. 

He set up his deliverables as though he had made tons of them, because his employment in this company  rode on it. Just two months ago, he was pegged to be promoted within the next two cycles, and now he could barely hold on to his sanity enough to handle his workload. He was so fucking tired, and he had so much on his plate. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the long day of meetings ahead of him. He had no true motivation to do his job right now, all he knew was that his exhaustion was no excuse. He knew that his boss, Alice, was giving him a whole lot of leeway right now. She was probably doing more than she should to help him. Being a mentor on the senior design team didn’t mean she needed to keep tabs on his personal life and pick up his slack. 

“Sirius–” 

When Sirius focused back into the meeting he was calling into, it occurred to him that they’re talking to him. So he did what he always did, blamed it on a shoddy connection. 

“Oh, sorry, can you repeat that? My audio cut out.” 

“Remus was saying that some of  the poems could probably use illustrations, and he was wondering if you had any ideas on which ones needed it.” 

“Thanks, Peter.” Sirius was glad that he knew the people on this team, that Peter and James were as close to him as anyone could be. Because otherwise, he’d probably be fucked. 

“So I was looking through them, and I was thinking Bite, Magick, and Love I could probably use larger scale illustrations. But at the same time, we don’t want to crowd the book. How attached are you to the current order or page arrangement?” 

It felt too close, but he was lucky that he had at least read the titles of some of the poems in the first half of the book. Sirius knew Remus didn’t actually know what his level of involvement was. He thought it was just doodles, but Sirius would be responsible for presenting everything from kearning and font choice within the pages, to illustration and cover art to the design team. He was integral to the success of this book as a product, and he  needed to start acting like it. 

“I’m pretty attached.” Remus sounded cold to Sirius, and he wondered what exactly he had done wrong in this meeting. And yet, he didn’t have time to think on it. He needed to keep things moving, keep getting valuable information out of the author. Hook up be damned, Sirius needed this book to actually get off the ground. 

 “Okay, well we should get a meeting on the calender to discuss. What poems and what scale of illustrations you want–” 

“Shouldn’t you be deciding what the illustrations look like and the logistics of those. Isn’t that what you  get paid for?” Remus really wasn’t making this easy on Sirius. But he had dealt with bigger demons and divas then whatever this attitude was. So he put on a light and airy smile, one they’d never know didn’t reach his eyes over the low quality webcam and nodded. 

“If you’d like to take a hands off approach with the design work, that can absolutely be arranged. But in the case of a fledgling project with a new author, the design team, myself included, really hope to prioritize your artistic license so that we can get a better sense of your vision for your literature, should Quill move forward with other publications in the future.  We can provide a completely in-house service, with as much input as you feel necessary during the design process, and deliver collateral towards the end of the project when final edits are done, if you would prefer, Mister Lupin.” 

Sirius practically wanted to scream. He needed Remus to stop fucking with his job, with his livelihood. He couldn’t lose this project. He needed all of the billable hours he could get if he was going to justify the overtime he needed in order to provide for his brother. This was ridiculous. But his clinical and polite answer must have thrown Remus, because he didn’t get much more attitude out of him. The back and forth had ended. So instead, Sirius pulled up his deliverables for the week, which included new iterations for the covers, and twelve illustrations for the three poems he had mentioned. 

He noticed the way Remus looked at his drawings, like he was pained by whatever his thoughts were, and Sirius wants to scream that he’s under no obligation to think that they’re good. But then he remembers that Remus seemed to be nitpicking on purpose, based on his critique of the design system itself. Sirius didn’t have the time to deal with that level of petty, just because he hadn’t been answering. He was too busy. He had too much on his plate. So instead he continues his presentation. 

“I don’t like any of these. Maybe you should start over.” Remus sounded vindictive, even mean. Like he was doing this out of spite.  Sirius could feel his heart drop in that moment. He didn’t want to start over. He didn’t have the time. 

“What do you not like about them?” Sirius is trying to salvage his work while he can. 

“The vibe is off.”

“Oh, is there something specific that throws it off or...” Sirius trailed off, wondering what exactly he needed to change. 

“No, it’s the whole thing. All of them are just off.” 

Sirius needed to think quick on his feet. He didn’t have the time to start from scratch, so he pulled up his original thumbnails that he had discussed with Remus. 

“These are the original sketches we discussed. I moved forward with the ones we talked about. I’m happy to rework those sketches,” no, he wasn’t. “But if there’s another sketch that you think would fit your vision better, please let me know.” He felt like he was pleading with Remus not to hate his artwork. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a blow to his self esteem to hear that everything that he did was bad. 

“No, I would suggest you start over.” 

Sirius nodded, his mind immediately whirring with ways he could start over and re-design this project. He really didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to do hundreds of thumbnails to get set on thirty, only to be destroyed in a meeting again. Especially when Remus seemed so excited about all of his illustrations before the meetings. It felt like too much. He didn’t have the energy for this kind of behavior. 

Luckily, Marlene directed the conversation away from Sirius’s work. The rest of the call went on without a hitch, like the only person who’s work Remus had a problem with was Sirius’s. He knew that it was more likely for Remus to have a problem with him, because design work was usually something an artist thought of as easy; however, this felt calculated and cold. If Sirius had been avoiding Remus before, it definitely wasn’t about to get better. So instead, he listened to the end of the meeting, and started the project all over again. He could do this. It was an unremarkable critique. It didn’t matter.

#sorry this ones so short #Marauders #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders era fic #marauders drabble #regulus black #regulus black fic #regulus and sirius black #black family #sirius x remus #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #wolfstar angst #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #remus x sirius #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #modern au #modern marauders #my shit #unremarkable days

[chattingwiththelightkeeper]

A Big Bang, Mr. Spock, A Vintage Toy, And The Newer Submissive...

After an insanely long day being a good worker bee, I was doing more work at home with the TV on as background noise. There was a Big Bang Theory marathon on and it was serving a great purpose of entertaining me during breaks in my work. Then suddenly found myself caught up in an episode where Penny purchased for Leonard and Sheldon new and mint in box Star Trek toys from the 1970s. To make a long story short, Sheldon gives in to his id, breaks open the box, and plays with his toy. This adventure turns tragic and humorous when the toy breaks and he goes to great lengths to hide this while attempting to exchange his broken toy with Leonard’s still mint inbox. Sheldon’s antics as well as the process he follows to admit what he has done provided a welcome break from my work crap-o-la. This pause in my work did spark a thought about kink and hopefully, over the next bit, you can see how Penny, Leonard, Sheldon, Mr. Spock, and a 1970’s Star Trek transporter toy made my brain think about what it is like to be newer to the lifestyle and submissive.

Sheldon’s broken transporter toy caused me to think back to my childhood and I think we all knew a kid who was always breaking their toys, on purpose and this child’s parents would simply buy them a new one to replace the broken toy. No matter how many times or the expense this spoiled youngster would just be given a new toy as a replacement. Sadly, some of these compulsive toy breakers did grow up and find their way into the world of D/S. However, now that they are all grown up the toys they are breaking are not G.I. Joes or smashing Ken and his car through Barbie’s dream house. They are preying upon and attempting to shatter something much worse, the new submissive.

I want to chat about how someone new to the lifestyle can potentially discover these toy breakers before learning this life lesson through experience. First, know these people are not dominants but are predators who are out looking to prey upon those who are new. If you have almost been or have been victimized by one of these creep-its do not blame yourself because they are very good at what they do.

I want to start by talking about an experience most people who are new have and they are hopping around Tumblr, FetLife, or the kink-friendly site of their choice on a dark, starry night and they stumble upon someone who has created an image that they are an expert. Now on many sites that are kinky-based or friendly, many people are amazing leaders within the community and they exist side by side with the faux expert and their evil spawn, the predator hunting new people. I can imagine that it can feel very challenging to try to figure out which is the wheat or the chaff, so I have some suggestions that my help identify those with bad intentions:

They will often be dismissive of others in the community. The thoughts and opinions of anyone who dissents from their views are dismissed and disparaged.

These people may use phrases like sub trainer or even scarier sub breaker. Remember, even though a person may be a new submissive, they are still unique and their likes/desires do not need to be trained and certainly not broken.

They will not want someone to seek opinions or ideas from others, especially if those thoughts vary from their own.

If they post writings and not just hardcore porn, their writings/thoughts may feature soft, sensual D/S images where the pictures are powerful, inviting while designed to mask what is hidden in the words. While not all who use words and images together are bad but it is imperative to focus on strictly the words by removing the visual from your mind.

Look for contradictions. For example, if a d-type says they are a feminist or they support women’s rights but when you carefully read their words phrases “like all women naturally desire a dominant partner” or “women were designed to serve their leader” appear.

Blog posts and their expressions will often contain references to taking, seizing, overpowering, or any other word/phrase that denotes submission is something that can be taken, captured, demanded, or simply expected. Submission can only be freely given by the submissive and I believe a dominant will never ask for or in any way attempt to coax it from an s-type.

Anything that implies a submissive is weak or not as powerful as a dominant. Submissives are not weak or in any way shape or form less than a d-type.

Do not fall for the old line that a real submissive will or will not do/act a certain way poppycock. It is up to you to decide what is real or not. Just because you want/enjoy something that someone else dislikes, does not diminish or take away from who you are or make you less submissive. If you see or hear this line of crap-o-la, know what it truly is, an attempt to bully you or someone else into doing as the dumbinant wants.

Relationships, kinky or vanilla, are still partnerships. People who are dismissive of this should be looked at with a wary eye.

Beware of fake news in writings and blog posts. Some of the more creative predators will appear to reference scholarly work to support their beliefs. Even though you see references to legitimate scholars, for example, Dr. So and So says, there never is any documentation. Writing a kinky blog post does not sound like a place for documentation, but if you are going to using other’s work to support a thesis or use a quote, documenting the source (right down to the page number) is imperative because it is the right thing to do (which speaks to the person’s honesty) but also so the reader can verify that the quote or information is not taken out of context or fabricated. Remember, “All quotes on the internet are true” - Abraham Lincoln.

Be wary of those who use dominance to hide their insecurities. No matter how accomplished an individual is, everyone has insecurities. Some claim dominance but will also deny having even a single insecurity.  Should you encounter this, channel your inner Robot, “Danger Will Robinson, Danger!” Robot, Lost In Space.

Never accept or allow someone to tell, imply or suggest that you should distance yourself from family and/or friends. Those that prey often look to break a submissive from their support system.

Build friendships with other dominants and submissives so you can seek advice from them. Even if they are casual, they can be a sounding board and second opinion.

Being dominant is not an excuse to not be respectful to others. Those who express that a dominant cannot be courteous or are so cocky that their behavior is asshatted, need to be stepped away from.

The only person who knows what you want and is YOU. Do not allow others to suggest they know better than you what your thoughts and desires are.

If you feel that you are being manipulated or if a dominant is making you question your sanity, RUN! Always trust yourself and your feelings.

We all have heard the expression that life is short, but also remember there is no reason to rush into things. Take your time, learn about yourself and what you want. You do not need to jump into any relationship or be pressured to do so. It may take you years before you feel comfortable in the lifestyle. There is no hurry. Life is a journey, enjoy it.

Always be careful with the information you share with someone online as predatory individuals can use this against you. Think of it as having your “rights” read to you. Anything you do, say, or share can be used against you, so always be conscious of what you are sharing.

Building trust is a great thing but when you are vetting someone, always verify.

If the conversation is led or focused on kinky play, sex, or both, this is a red flag that this is all the individual is seeking.

Always inquire about safe words and run faster than Forrest Gump from anyone who says they refuse to use/dislikes them. Being submissive does not in any way remove your right to say no for any reason and at any time.

There is no one true way to get your kink on and what works for you is amazing. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.

Lastly, dating in the world of kink is a very complex process. Your vanilla friends may complain about the complexities they face but do not forget that kink relationships have to work as vanilla relationships while blending in D/S. Do not fall into the trap of trying to just match fetishes because the perfectly imperfect partner will fit both your traditional, vanilla relationship needs as well as your lifestyle needs.

Thank you for taking the time to read this as I know it is a bit on the long side and many people online seem to have the attention span of a nat, so I appreciate the investment of your time. I also hope that some of my thoughts will help keep a newer to the lifestyle person from having a bad experience while giving lifestyle veterans a pleasant reminder on safely getting to know others.

As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2021