#LOVE that the two are basically mind-melded on a WHOLE NEW LEVEL now where just a look is enough to move in perfect unison | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jiminrings · 3 years

Note

umm can we like do one where he touches y/n? Like he's all nervous but wants to make her feel good and she directs him through the whole thing?! Idk just sexy times hehehhe

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

jungkook sees you wearing a button-up blouse and all his inhibitions are ruined; alternatively, stem koo touches you for the first time

Jungkook’s shy — shy to the degree that he can’t find his voice when you quietly compliment him on his hair, but not shy enough to try and hold your hand whenever the two of you pass Hyeji or any desperate (yet unfortunate) classmate of his.

Jungkook is shy, but that doesn’t mean he’s subtle.

He’s not subtle with the way he looks at you from top to bottom with his eyes wide and his breathing shallow. He could swear up and down that he's quiet and have in fact given Jimin the spook of his lifetime at 2 in the morning when he creeped up on him, when all his poor friend wanted to do was drink water. Jungkook swears he's not obvious, but he's oblivious to the way you could hear his breathing.

He's not subtle with the way his eyes follow your movement and his speech is interrupted, unknowingly putting an end to your discourse on how every other beverage in the world, besides coffee, is considered decaf.

He actually forgets to breathe for a second and he feels every single thought vanish from his mind all at once, his focus only zeroing on you.

“Is that a new shirt?”

You're just about to present your argument to him when you suddenly feel the lack of noises of disbelief from your boyfriend, turning to him in the exact moment that he springs you an unrelated but very important question. "This shirt?"

Jungkook sees you point to yourself and he can't be subtle with how eagerly he nods. He decides then and there that maybe having no shame wouldn't be so bad after all, because seeing you chuckle at what seems to be an innocent question (and you still assume that it is) eases his embarrassment.

"Mhmm, it's new. You noticed?"

All the inhibitions loitering around his mind fly out the door the moment you respond to him, a happy yet surprised smirk on your face after seeing his interest. Jungkook's face, however, turns even more flushed because then does it click that what you're wearing isn't a part of a plan.

What you're wearing — as in the pale pink and silky button-up blouse, with the short sleeves, the relaxed lapel collar, and the low dip; as in the same blouse his eyes are fixated on, with the fitting and cut on you making it seem like it's only made for only you — is not a grand rouse to tease him.

The shirt you're wearing that gives you the loveliest silhouette and the sheer two handfuls of cleavage that Jungkook wants to volunteer to hold up, isn't a plan.

There is no plan for Jungkook.

There is no plan at all.

“Yoongs and Jin want to go to this bazaar later," your voice breaks up the static in Jungkook's mind which makes him gulp, "Jin’s just fixing up in the office and Yoongi’s picking up something from the post office.”

He's confused when you don't comment on your shirt further and you just go straight to telling your boyfriend about your own plans with your friends for the day, his mouth hanging open.

There's no intention nor malice behind your shirt that's meant for him or anyone else in that matter. He knows you're fond of giving him a nudge every now and then, but you never act on the same thing twice.

He knows that you wait for him, you respect his decisions, and love him so-dearly even if he's always caught in the middle of sexual innuendos that just fly over his head and you have to chuckle and shake your head throughout all of them.

Not only does Jungkook know, but he's dead sure that he wants nothing more in life right now than to hold your shirt open and suck on your boobs.

“I like this shirt.”

He comments all of a sudden and it sounds more like a confession than it is a statement, the straightforward and deeper tone of his voice making you peer your head at him.

You were initially supposed to go into the bathroom to change into your pants because your silk top doesn't exactly go with pajama shorts that have tiny hearts on them and have been worn on several occasions by Jin when all his clothes are in the laundry, but Jungkook shoots you a look that you can't deny.

He's sitting at the edge of your bed with his hand outstretched, the usual pout on his face is gone and surprisingly replaced with a clench on his jaw that you can't quite decipher yet.

“Thanks. I like it too," you giggle when he pulls you by your hips, making you tower over him while he's sat down. The look on his face looks happy, relaxed even, but there's still the clench on his jaw that you pay extra attention to.

Jungkook's hair is a little longer now and therefore much more noticeable when he combs it back with his hands, the lines that his fingers leave from weaving through them being indented. It shouldn't really be your main concern but you can't help but think that his jaw looks sharper this way, symmetrical to how his strong brows are visible with his hair out of the way.

You snap out of it when you realize that there's no furrow to Jungkook's eyebrows and that means he isn't angry or anything of the sort. There's no unease bothering him that you could think of, but it worries you even more when he looks even more stern now.

"Are you-"

You physically can't find the words because Jungkook takes it upon himself to grab you by your hips and make you hold onto his shoulders as the only way to make yourself stable, his mouth immediately diving into yours that makes you meld to him out of instinct.

There's something in the way he's kissing you because you could swear that it feels a little more desperate and needy, not that Jungkook's kisses never felt that way because they always do, but you could just feel it deeper in all senses.

You grunt the moment he accidentally bites on your bottom lip with his teeth, giving him a second to catch his breath but he feels absolutely helpless with the way he's now eye-level with your cleavage.

"Wasn't supposed to do this today."

He mutters to your mouth as soon as he desperately dives in back for a kiss, this time pulling you towards his body to make the both of you fall back to your bed, the sudden movement so unlike him that your squeak resonates but gets swallowed by his tongue anyways.

"Do what today?" you ask with only half a mind because to put it bluntly, Jungkook feels different today that his sudden barrage of deep and desperate kisses pulled the breath out of you.

Jungkook shifts beneath you and only then does it register in your mind that you're lying on top of him, gathering yourself to sit closely beside him instead and it's the moment you feel the bulge in his sweatpants graze the inside of your thigh.

“Jungkook?” you ask half-entertained and half-curious as to what made him this hard in a matter of minutes, oblivious to the gravity of your blouse and what's beneath it that drives him near the edge. “You need help?”

“No.”

He answers quickly yet he enunciates it as clear as he could, his voice heavy on the tip of his tongue with finality.

His answer leaves no room for discussion and the roughness in his voice makes you squint, tilting your head at him when he next spoke.

“I wanna help you.”

Jungkook pulls himself up from his lying position and kisses you languidly this time, easily making you somehow bored because it's tame compared to when he kissed you minutes ago, but you never get the chance to deepen it because he's trailing his lips to the shell of your ear, biting on it softly.

“Help me how?”

It's a loaded exhale that leaves your boyfriend as you basically just asked him to elaborate on how he wants nothing to do but to bury his face on your tits and change his place of residency to the valley between your chest.

Jungkook kisses down to your throat and he lets his tongue linger there, sucking so lightly that it makes you imagine if he's even doing so, but you can't tell because he's making your head tilt back on purpose.

“I can touch you, right?" he asks politely as he drags the tip of his tongue to your clavicle, his eyes looking up just as kindly for confirmation. "Can I?”

"Of course you could," you shiver when Jungkook places his thumbs underneath your arms and right to where the band of your bra extends from the cups, the goosebumps on your skin not going unnoticed because your boyfriend chuckles right to your ear.

“I was actually planning on asking you if I could try and touch you next week because I was too nervous,” he admits just as sure but not as forward this time, licking his lips as he lowers his head to meet your tits that are pushed together, only seeing the limited skin that your blouse allowed. “B-but you just looked too pretty today.”

You've come to realize in situations such as these, Jungkook says the first thing that comes to his mind. There's no filter and no barrier because he says what he needs to say the moment his mind throws in the words together. Could be a little incoherent at times, but his boyish charm is just something that proves to you how genuine he really is.

“Cute.”

Jungkook hears you mutter under your breath as you peer up at him, your roles being reversed as you're now the one who's sitting on the bed and he's the one towering over you, the sight of you being laid-back with your hands supporting you making the gears in his head turn.

He lurches at you again before you know it, just one more chaste kiss to replenish your taste on his tongue before he starts to unbutton your blouse.

“Calm down,” you chuckle when you see his fingers trembling but you make no move in helping him, in fact, you become even more relaxed as you look at him fiddle with the buttons.

“Sorry. I just really, really can’t wait to see you," he only apologizes half-heartedly, barely undoing the second button because he's so jittery and excited that he can't contain himself.

“Oh! Right,” you snort and it makes him wonder if you've suddenly had you eureka moment that's totally unrelated to the situation right now. “I forgot you’ve never seen neither my pussy nor my boobs.”

The harmless jab you make at him gets him to deadpan at you, scoffing with his whole chest at your teasing, magically curing his trembling fingers.

“Heh. I’m getting there, miss,” Jungkook rolls his eyes sarcastically and makes sure to stress on the last word to try and get into your nerves as much as you do with him.

He beats you in getting the last word because his hands get to the button that holds the peak fullness and weight of your tits, seeing with his own two eyes on how your boobs are full and almost spilling within your bra.

Jungkook gulps and he'd pay to see the replay of your tits that went from a tight cleavage to expanding fully after being released from the confines of your blouse, the unmistakable bounce of them spilling out from your top forever engraved in his mind.

“Oh my god.”

His hands work on autopilot to peel off your shirt, leaving you in your bra and shorts alone. Jungkook leans in from the side to look at your back so he could undo the clasp of your bra by himself, a heavy sigh leaving him when he feels the peak of your tits from underneath your bra press right to his chest when he undoes the clasp.

He tilts his head back to see his handiwork, his pupils dilating even more at the sight of your bra completely removed and your tits out for him to see.

Jungkook literally pauses right in front of you and for a second you're scared because you think you've broken him, a breathless giggle leaving your when you bring your thumb up to wipe the corner of his lips.

“You’re drooling, handsome.”

You're not sure whether it's because you pointed it out or it's the term of endearment, but atleast any of the two or perhaps everything you've done for the matter is what sets him off.

Jungkook wastes no time and lets his large hands squeeze your boobs tightly, moaning when he feels the soft yet firm flesh in his palms.

"That's it," you whimper when he squeezes them again, feeling the pressure out of your boobs being rubbed right off with how he rolls them in his hands, "just like that."

Jungkook's moan gets stuck in his throat when he rolls your nipples between his fingers and he gets a whine out of you, but he's positive that a chill ran up his spine and resided there the moment he squished your tits together.

The visual alone of your tits pushed together and cupped by his hands makes his cock twitch, a needy whine shamelessly tumbling out of his lips before he can even hold himself back.

"Fuck," he mutters as he licks his lips at the sight, turning his gaze to look at you. “Have I ever told you that I dreamed about your tits once?”

Jungkook's out of the blue statement makes you choke on your moan, willing your eyes open to look at him.

“What happened then?”

You ask as casually as you could to reflect your boyfriend who looks like he's just now remembered this tidbit at the heat of the moment, all while still rolling your tit between his hand while he plays with your nipple using the other.

“You let me suck on them,” he hums, giving you one of the sweetest smiles you've ever seen, suddenly stopping his ministrations so he can grip you by the shoulders while he speaks into the crook of your neck. “You let me suck on your tits for so long that I fell asleep with them in my mouth.”

The bluntness of his words shoot straight into your core, his hazy eyes smiling at you when you try to bounce back. It's admirable, really — looking at you looking at him like you could eat him up, all the while your hands are unconsciously holding his wrists, trying to put them back to your tits where they belong.

“You want that?” you coo to him when you feel him kiss the corner of your mouth. “I do have to leave in less than an hour though.”

Jungkook laughs and he knows you're serious, but he takes his chances anyway, knowing deep-down that he can't pry you away from your friends with a crowbar even if he wanted to.

“Do you really?” he play-whines to your neck as he kisses down the center of your chest, “can I tag along? I won’t talk the whole time.”

The laugh gets stuck in your throat the moment you feel Jungkook's mouth attach to your nipple, his tongue swirling boldly at the bud and the accompanying moan he has out of sheer enjoyment in sucking your boob render you helpless.

“It’s okay,” he hums with his mouth full of your boob, looking right at you when he suckles more harshly this time. “You’d let me do that next time, right?”

“R-right.”

It's only rare that Jungkook makes you speechless and your lack of words is something that shoots straight into his ego, feeling a lot more confident with the way your moans are amplified in his ear.

“I loved my dream that night,” he almost moans just by thinking about it, “remember when I said I couldn’t come over because Jimin needed my help with his thesis?”

You don't answer but Jungkook doesn't seem to like that, grazing his teeth on your nipple while he twists the other that it makes you jolt and actually think before your brain turns into mush the second after, vaguely recalling the time that he was talking about.

He's satisfied with the way you nod eagerly, a sweet smile that fills you up from the inside-out.

“I lied.”

“You lied?" you ask in disbelief but there's no real anger behind it. In fact, it even sounded like you were thoroughly amused. "You know how to lie?”

Jungkook breathlessly laughs to your jab, audibly 'ooh'-ing at your reply which makes you giggle even louder.

It's nice, actually, but there's another version of nice that you can't quite explain when Jungkook slaps your tit from the side and it makes your giggles cease, replaced with a moan that racks through you and makes your boyfriend tremble by the knees.

“I jerked off to the dream version of your tits,” he says with no shame while he furiously rubs your nipple in small circles, “and I cummed so, so hard in my hand that I felt too ashamed to see you that night.”

The dots only connect in your mind later on, realizing that Jungkook's voice did sound too hoarse and rushed for him to be only irritated at Jimin's thesis which he could eat for breakfast.

“Oh baby,” he hears you moan and it only makes him desperate to make you feel even better, his hand on the groove of your spine when you arch your back in pleasure, “you’re so good at this.”

“I am?”

His usual shy demeanor, especially from being praised, is something you highly treasure and is currently being showcased at the moment, keening from the warmth of your words.

"You are."

“I’m not gonna lie,” Jungkook chuckles to himself and the deepness of it makes you look for his warm touch even further, “it’s gonna take me like, four business days to not be nervous and finally eat you out.”

There's something about Jungkook that is unshakeable all the way down to your bones, seeing to it that he's in the middle of sucking and grasping at your tits, but he's also telling you how nervous he actually is and is making you laugh with his candidness.

“Don’t have to be nervous, Koo. You make me feel good anyway,” you pinch at his cheeks and he melts at your touch for a second, but tries to worm out of it as it hits him that he shouldn't be the one who's taken care of today. “But okay. I’ll wait for four business days to have you eat me out.”

Jungkook laughs with his whole body when you go along with him and his specific timeframe when it comes to psyching himself out, taking the time to see you laugh and the way your face turns into his favorite view before his hand goes elsewhere.

You're perfect, actually.

"You're wet."

Jungkook trails his finger on the center lining of your pajama shorts, and it reminds you of the fact that you haven't cummed yet and it seems that your boyfriend's not quite done with you yet.

“And whose doing is that, hm?”

Jungkook toothily grins, kissing you sweetly on the lips that you feel him smiling throughout. "Me."

He lowers himself down for him to be eye-level with your clothed core, his nose brushing against the lining of your shorts that it makes you writhe briefly, your shuffling coming to a halt when he holds you in place by holding your hands.

Jungkook's eyes are easily fixated on the shape of you that's curved into the fabric of your shorts, the wet spot that's growing the more he takes his time staring right back at him.

You clearly didn't expect it, which is why you obscenely moan to look down and see Jungkook diving in and inhaling you directly, his nose brushing against your clothed clit in the process.

“You smell so sweet.”

His lips press ever so gently to your mound that it makes you shudder with how soft he does it, looking down to see Jungkook closing his eyes who looks up at you with hooded eyes at the same time.

Jungkook winks before he closes his eyes and wastes no time in kissing your core as how he'd kiss your mouth, his pressure just as rough when he's desperate.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" you whine needily because as much as he's giving you, he's not giving you all because you realize that there's still a barrier between you and his tongue. “Y-you sure? Four business days? Can’t I have a rush order here?”

He finds it amusing that you're trying to banter with him in order to level yourself, and it's cute actually, but Jungkook knows better.

“Nah. I'm imploding on the inside from trying to psych myself out, y’know.”

He carelessly replies and before you can even add into the conversation, your eyes train on your boyfriend who's suddenly stopped, a plead growing in the back of your throat.

Jungkook closes his fist but only juts out his middle finger that’s in a closed knuckle, looking as if he's knocking.

"W-what are you doing?" all the words die down at the tip of your tongue when you feel his knuckle trail up at the seam of your shorts, stopping at the spot where you shudder and let out the faintest of whines.

"Don't you mean who?"

Jungkook drives his knuckle into your clothed clit and the shrill moan he gets makes his skin light up on fire, taking pleasure in seeing you writhing underneath him and moaning his name.

“Am I doing good?” he asks as he drills in his knuckle, hiking up your leg on his shoulder as he uses the extra space from beside you to his advantage

“You’re doing great, baby,” you almost feel like crying with how good you feel, willing your eyes open to see Jungkook who's just as lost in pleasure as you are, “so, so great.”

“Are you s-seriously,” you ask in between moans, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach intensify in waves, “gonna make me cum in my shorts?”

Jungkook works even more diligently now that you mention it, the sweat from his forehead dripping all the way down to his neck as you make the happy mistake in observing on how fucked out he looks while making you feel good.

“I can clean you up. Suck your cum out as much as I can.”

Jungkook hits the nail in the head because you find yourself gushing before it could even register in your mind that's consumed in a high.

And true to his word, Jungkook does suck up the proof of his doing so eagerly that you have to pull him up by his hair gently. “S-sensitive."

Your boyfriend lets you regain your breath as he proudly lies down beside you, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand as he looks fondly at you.

Jungkook looks so proud of himself and you make sure to tell and make him feel just as much, a sincere kiss pressed on his temple.

“Not gonna help me out of my shorts?”

“Four business days.”

You change to your actual bottoms in the bathroom and you have to grip at the edge of the sink because your knees keep trembling, actually chuckling to yourself with how this situation fills you up with pride.

You come out to find Jungkook sitting on the edge of your bed in a prim and proper situation, having changed into your jersey that he takes the liberty of stealing and wearing every time he comes over.

He's holding your bag in his hands, flashing your phone and the notification that Jin's coming home in ten minutes and Yoongi's arriving not far off.

Jungkook has a blush on his cheeks and he's back to his sheepish state, nuzzling your neck in comfort while you smother his face in kisses.

“Did I do good?”

“You did perfect, Koo.”

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

#stem koo #stem koo misc.#jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook writing #jungkook fic recs

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dex-xe · 3 years

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I've made Spotify playlists inspired by each of the ghosts and I've made these little written pieces to talk about them. if you wanna read them, please go ahead - if not then enjoy the music!!

This is Robin's playlist:

Somebody Told Me - The Killers

Robin is a stadium rock kinda guy, I guarantee you that. I’ve said this before multiple times but I love the idea of Alison trying to find music for all the ghosts that she things they’d like and he’d totally like music where he could watch gigs and festivals of people just going mental and jumping about. (I have actually written a fic here about Robin having watched stadium rock so yeah, go read that if you’d like!)

Starman - David Bowie

I feel like this is obvious cause space boy but also I interpret the song as being about the idea of accepting change. The Starman sits above Earth and knows things that “will blow our minds”, they understand more than humans do or ever could know much like Robin who has seen more than can be imagined and is wise beyond his time.

The Universal - Blur

This song encapsulates the two primary things I drew from in making Robin’s playlist which are space and the passage of time. But yeah, it’s kinda a sci-fi-esque song that I think is quite fitting. I’ve also seen a lot of discusison about how it’s a commentary on the downfall of society under the epidemic of believing everything you read which is like conspiracy theory Robin talking about the moon landing not happening and the Earth being flat.

Space Oddity - David Bowie

Just the image of Robin as a spaceman makes me happy, I saw some fanart of the ghosts in the outfits they described at clothes club and the one of Robin was so good!! (They are all great but that one in particular is super cute). If I can find it then I’ll link it here.

Spaceman - The Killers

Again, space vibes. Not writing much for this one because it’s self explanatory but also I’m writing this while listening the playlist through and I’m still searching for the fanart from the previous song XD

Run Boy Run - Woodkid

(Found the art) That scene where Robin is running through the woods to fetch Barclay in BitN always reminds me of this song because of like the fast pace and the way it would nicely meld with his like stompy running through the woods.

Starlight - Muse

Actually not chosen for the space theme (although it helps). Basically just the idea of being so far away from those you love, I feel like it goes so underappreciated that Robin is not a few centuries or even just a handful of deacdes away from his life like all the others but he is literally MILLENIA from his family and community. He must miss them so much, I think the whole “everything comes, everything go, but moonah always there” (not a quote cause I only have until the song finishes and can’t to search for the correct line) really indicates just how lonely he must be after literally thousands of year. He spent ~40,000 alone before even Humphrey turned up???

Carry Me Home - The Killers

See above answer but add in the idea of not really belonging where you are, like I said he’s 1000s of years older than anyone else and is way more out of his time than anyone else.

Dark Side - Blind Channel

This would obviously be one of his favourites from this years Eurovision so I had to include it, again I just think he’d really like energetic music so I think it’s a good call.

Baby You’re a Haunted House - Gerard Way

I wanted to include this song in someone’s playlist because, well it’s obvious, but I think it’s a pretty decent song. But yeah, I settled on Robin because of the lyrics focussing on like having to be happy and positive in love while dealing with trauma and inner demons and stuff and I think that’s potentially very Robin cause of the fact he’s been at the house for years and watched everything come and go. He’s positive and upbeat despite the obvious trauma he’s experienced.

Love Illumination - Franz Ferdinand

Basically thought to be about the idea that destruction and boredom is all around us so we look towards things that make us happy and spark love to distract from that. (According to Wikipedia) Alex Kapranos said that he would look to the bright lights of Blackpool for that love - the idea of light and illumination being important to Robin’s distraction and boredom-aliviation in the afterlife.

The Whole of the Moon - The Waterboys

Space boy space boy space boy. Kinda about the idea of somebody seeing and understanding more than others… obvious but yeah I really like the song and am very fixated on Robin’s process of growing into a world that is so unnatural to him but picking up on modern ideas through his time.

Ghosting - Mother Mother

I felt the need to include this for someone so after much debate settled on Robin cause he’s been there for so long and it’s just a nice vibe for him.

Kidz - Take That

I know this is about protest and uprising etc but I think the idea of questioning authority and the very concept of reality and looking to turn things upside down fits nicely with Robin’s loves of conspiracy theories and his unwillingness to accept things straight off but instead question everything he sees.

Cities In Dust - Siouxsie and the Banshees

This is one of my favourite Siouxsie songs: it’s about the destruction of Pompeii and I again think that’s very Robin because, like I said, he’s experienced the destruction of everything around him. Obviously on a completely different level to the fall of Pompeii and over a long period of time but everything he once knew lies in dust but he can’t escape what the world is like now.

Teenage Kicks - The Undertones

It’s just a punk anthem and just a classic, you know?? I have no further explanation but I dare you to tell me this is not a Robin song XD

Across The Universe - The Beatles

It’s not particularly about space or the universe but the vibe is good and the line “nothing’s gonna change my world” is open to my interpretation as being like holding on to the past while watching things outside your control change.

Fly Me to the Moon - Joytastic Sarah & YungRhythm

This is an obvious choice, clearly, but I wanted to include this version because it’s more modern and more representative of Robin’s acceptance of the new world and new ideas.

20th Century Boy - T. Rex

The meaning of this song are very much up for debate, I’ve never been able to interpret it I don’t think. But it just gave me Robin vibes, maybe it’s because of the modern pop culture references which make me think of someone kinda out of their time picking up modern ideas and kind of regurgitating it - much like Robin’s instant believing of conspiracy theories etc.

Apeman - The Kinks

Obvious but yeah, caveman. Kinda nostalgic for simpler times as it lists like tons of things that are shit about todays world (nuclear war, inflation, over population) and how much easier it would be to live in a society without those things - things Robin has grown up into rather unnaturally.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghost robin #Spotify

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endless-vall · 3 years

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It meant everything - Drake x Olivia fanfic

Summary: It doesn’t mean anything. Until it does.

Author’s note: Another Drake x Olivia fanfic. From Olivia’s POV. A lot of time jumps. Pretty much sums up how I see them ending up together.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Olivia pulled herself out of Drake’s embrace, just long enough to spit out these words.

“I know.” He pulled her back in, his lips rough and voice hoarse and so demanding, but Olivia was just as eager so she let him take this one,

and they continued right where they left of. Striping each other of their clothes in a secret passage of the palace, where no one could ever interrupt them.

He pulled her back in with a passionate kiss, almost brutal, but it was just what Olivia needed right now.

The hole in her heart bled, but at least she was able to put these thoughts aside while she was entangled in Drake’s arms and limbs and -- OH

Who knew that Walker could make her feel that good in the pit of her stomach and make those sounds get out of her mouth?

Amber and Liam had just announced their engagement.

Sure, they both knew it was coming. They were both living in some sort of a fantasy that one day they’ll wake up and realize that their heart laid someplace else. She wanted Liam to love her, and Drake wanted Amber.

But life wasn’t always as easy and fun, and sometimes your heart broke into millions of pieces.

And suddenly you find yourself finding comfort in the arms of the last person you could’ve imagined. And this is how their story began.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” This time, she barged into Drake’s room. He was laying on his bed and reading something on his phone, not expecting anything or anyone.

Drake understood immdiately, and put his phone away.

Olivia was half naked by the time she reached his bed, and Drake was already basically in underwear.

He caught her in his arms as soon as she was close enough, and threw her onto the bed with some mix of hunger and need in his eyes.

It made Olivia’s stomach twist with excitment, and she bit down on her lip.

He quickly found himself between her legs, and Olivia’s arms gripped at his sheets.

“Dammit Walker, faster!” She ordered. “AHhh-”

They were standing in opposite sides of the ballroom. In the middle of the Unity tour.

But their eyes crossed and suddenly they knew. Without saying a single word.

They met at the exit of the ballroom, behind closed doors.

“This doesn’t--” She started saying, but got cut off by Drake. “Mean anything. I know, let’s go.” He took her arm in his and lead the way.

Olivia’s breathe caught in her throat at the way he lead her by her arm away, but other than a soundless gasp, she didn’t let him know.

That night, she drifted off to sleep before she could sneak out of his room.

She woke up, the sunlight shining throught the window. “Is it morning... Already...?” She mumbled, forgetting where she was.

Her words stirred him awake, and he slowly opened his eyes and faced her.

They were both lost for words.

“I should- I should go.” Olivia threw her dress back on, not minding how she looked, she just wanted to get the hell out of there, as fast as possible.

Someone might’ve saw her, in her way back to her own room. But even if they did, they wouldn’t know where she was coming from.

Besides, Olivia had the tendancy to look great at all times.

Olivia was going throught a lot. Even after the hole in her heart started melding and it didn’t hurt as bad when she looked at Liam and Amber together, she was still facing the consequinces of her parents betrayel of the crown, and what it meant to her people nowdays.

Her aunt was back, it almost felt as if she came back from the dead. And Olivia, well... She didn’t trust her.

It was a shame, she couldn’t even trust her own blood.

She had no one to talk to about these... Kind of stuff.

So the next time...

She didn’t run that early in the morning.

Instead, she laid in bed until she was completely awake. The birds were chirping outside the window, and she had her back to Drake.

She could feel him behind her, just barely touching her.

She finally turned around, to meet his eyes just as awake as hers were.

“Were you watching me for a long time?” She asked, raising an eyebrow but you could make the hint of a smile on her lips.

“I was wondering when will you sprint out like last time.” He snarked at her.

“Do you want me to?” She asked, voice unwavering.

“It’s not what I said.” He protested.

But other than that, his face was mostly unreadable.

Some nights, especially before they find themselves hot and naked in each other’s arms, she’d see the real Drake. Vulnerable.

But in the morning, he’d be the same old Drake she knew. Closed off and untalkative.

Did she really want to confide in him, of all people?

Or maybe it was that it was him, of all people, that made her trust no matter what she told him, it wouldn’t change his opinion of her.

Until that other night, she’d always leave before morning came. And that other night, was a slip-up. She felt so secure and warm in his embrace, she fell asleep before her judgment caught up to her. But today? It was a concious choice.

And the thing is... Olivia didn’t start to regret it.

Olivia rested her head on her arm, positioning herself over the pillow. She studied Drake for a long time. He didn’t say a word, either. It’s like he was studying her too.

“What is it?” He asked, eventually.

“You’re not that bad, Walker.” Olivia simply said. It was easier than what was going through her mind.

“Don’t get all mushy on me, Livie.” Drake amused himself with the nickname, a smile spreading over his feature.

“You did not just call me that.” And before he could see it coming, her pillow was already meeting with his face, and the sound of giggles rolled around the room.

They met for a late night drink. It was the day before Lykithos’ turn in the Unity tour.

“Whiskey?” She offered, although she didn’t know why she bothered. It was all he drank anyway.

“A woman after my own heart.” He let out before he could catch himself. They both froze for a second, before Drake bumped into her shoulder and made a joke out of it.

Olivia shook her head in disbelief, as if she was done with him, but a smile played on her lips.

She poured two glasses, before joining him on the couch in her guest room.

Tomorrow everyone will arrive. But today they had all the palace to themselves.

She even sent all the staff home.

“Did you send everyone away so no one will see us?” He asked after a couple of drinks.

“Yes... And no.” Olivia admitted.

Drake raised an eyebrow at her, distracting himself with his glass, but his gaze rested on Olivia questioningly.

“I did ask them to go so no one will spy on us... But no for the reason you’re thinking of.”

“For what reason, then?” He put his drink down, watching Olivia carefully.

It was clear to Olivia, by that point, she’d moved on from Liam. It didn’t hurt anymore when she thought about him. When she saw him with Amber. When she helped pick out stuff for the wedding.

But maybe, just maybe... Someone else started occuping the place in her heart.

It was too early to admit that, and it wasn’t the reason she asked him privately today.

“If I tell you something... Will you promise to keep it a secret. Even from Liam?”

Drake considered for a long second, but eventually he nodded. “You can tell me everything.”

“I... Think my parents had more involvment than just the coup. But I’m too afraid of what I might find out, if I go down that route.”

She was right. His opinion of her didn’t change. And he didn’t judge her, either.

“When you’ll be ready, you’ll know. And we’ll all be there. But until then, I’ll be here.”

This night felt different.

They took their time.

taking off each garment of fabric of each other. Caressing and worshiping every new exposed skin. Kissing passionately but also tenderly.

Biting and cursing but also hugging, and kissing everything away.

Sex with Drake was always great. But this was a whole new level.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

A heaviness in Olivia’s chest lifting, ever so slightly.

She woke up facing him. It was almost time to get up and get everything ready at the Duchy.

Soon the servents will arrive and not so long after the other guests.

Drake smiled at her, still half asleep. He moved his hand up to caress her cheek.

“You’re so beautiful...” He mumbled, eyes fighting to stay open.

Olivia hesitated, but she smiled and covered his hand with her own.

That night, she learned more about her parent. But more importantly, she learned it wasn’t over. Her aunt and Anton (”Justin”) had a bigger ploy at play.

She was betrothed? What? And to... That poor excuse to a human being?

Not that it meant anything to her. Not that it’d stop her.

But right now, she had bigger problems.

Annuling the marriage, and standing up with Cordonia.

She will not be going down her parent’s footsteps.

“Olivia, wait” Drake was running after her.

“I don’t have the time right now, Drake.”

He took her hand in his, and put it over his chest. “Let me help.”

It was both the motion of stopping her, but also sharing something deeper.

She sighed, eventually.

“Fine.”

It was the day of Liam and Amber’s wedding, and Anton has been defeated.

Assassins slayed, enemies defeated, and a happy celebration in front of them.

They both watched as Amber went down the aisle.

As Liam and Amber promised to love each other forever.

As they sealed it with a kiss.

“Great party, huh?” Drake stepped in Olivia’s way, two flutes of champange in his hands.

He offered her one.

“I’m impressed.” She took one in her hand.

“Exquisite. Slaying assassin is my second favorite activity. And throwing my aunt along with Anton behind bars has defenitely made my night.”

They clincked their glasses and drank from them.

“So...” Drake lowered his glass.

“Did it mean anything...?” He finally dared to ask.

“With Anton?! Of course not--” “No.”

“Oh.”

Olivia stopped in her train of thought.

She considered for a moment, a smile spreading on her lips without even trying.

“It meant... Everything.”

#playchoices #the royal romance #trr #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #drake x olivia #olivia x drake #dralivia #my writing #fanfic

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saladejin · 4 years

Text

Broken | Seokjin (M)

Seokjin x Reader | idolverse au, established boyfriend!Seokjin | Pining, rough smut, fluffy undertones

Summary: Free time is hard to come by for the two of you, but soon another problem arises in the form of his beloved bandmates.

Warnings: Rough sex, swearing, mature and explicit themes, wet dreams

Word Count: 4.9k

<< masterlist

* Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’.

Skin tingling with excitement and breaths coming out in short gasps, your hands found purchase buried deep within his thick strands of hair.

His lips melded themselves to your own while his fingers roamed your figure expertly. He knew exactly where to touch to turn you into a whimpering mess, and he would never stop learning. It was like your body was a panel of buttons, and he the curious child wanting nothing more than to find out what each and every one did.

“Baby…”

The man slowly grinding his hips into your clothed core didn’t respond to your plead. You wondered if his brain was too occupied, because you knew yours was surely gone. Your fingers traced the firm outlines of his abdominal muscles and travelled upwards to use his wide shoulders for leverage. You could hear his hurried and shallow breathing the more you swivelled your hips to create the desired friction.

Another moan tore from you when you felt his hands moving everywhere at once. Their familiar warmth cupping your aching sex attentively. You arched at the memory of his fingers trailing the sensitive outlines and openings.

“Seokjin, I need you,” You gasped, looking upwards but feeling frustrated that the shadows masked the face of your lover.

You reached forwards for him, eager to have him in any way you possibly could…

Oh to hell with it all!

Reality was fucking harsh. You awoke with groan of disapproval and shifted your sweaty body around in the sheets hesitantly. Just as expected, you felt a certain slickness coating the insides of your thighs again.

This was literally the third sex dream you had conjured up in the past week or so. Each time you snapped open your eyes to find yourself cold and alone in your bed, you felt the wave of disappointment washing over you growing stronger. God, you missed him.

I just want him back in my arms. I just want him.

You sighed as you imagined the smiling face of your long-term boyfriend, the one and only Kim Seokjin of BTS. Life was pretty hectic considering you both worked taxing jobs, with him being a world famous idol and you being a full-time teacher at a private academy a fair drive away. Time had become very difficult for you both to find, but lately Seokjin’s had completely cancelled out when the band began promoting their new album overseas. After that, the bucket-loads of fame brought on caused even more difficulty and restriction on you both.

If it wasn’t for the strong bond and resilience you both upheld, the relationship would have broken to pieces a long time ago.

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and got up to start the day, trying to ignore the sexual frustration tearing at your insides. A tiny light winked at you from the screen’s surface.

“Good morning my love, I hope you slept well x”

You felt the fluffy warmth spread through you as you reread his text again, but rolled your eyes when you thought about how you actually slept.

Should I let him know? It would probably cause problems.

You shrugged because caution had never been a part of your relationship in the first place. Direct teasing was what created so much of the chemistry between the both of you, and it was almost always much to the disapproval of the other members.

“Good morning! It would have been better if I was getting fucked by the real you and not a dream.”

You watched with an evil cackle as the three little dots appeared and disappeared several times.

“I’ll have to tell my dream-self to do a little better. It’ll only be a few more days until I’m the one breaking the bed again, sweetheart.”

You felt so pathetic for getting turned on by his simple cheesy text, but you were so starved at this point you couldn’t really blame your brain for weakening. He was due to come back to Korea in the next few days, so you really wouldn’t have to long to wait.

“Sounds promising, I’ll order a new one tonight.”

You left the room chuckling quietly to yourself. The weight of his words usually proved fruitful, and the fact that you had both freed up a single weekend was exciting enough. This rarely ever happened so you knew you were both super keen to spend time together for two whole days in a row.

It’s sad to think how even that has become special.

You settled down with your breakfast, already falling into the usual routine of your daily texting with Seokjin. He usually sent you all kinds of funny pictures with the other members, as well as beautiful photos of any places they went. You found yourself having your own private tour each and every day, and you always thought about how caring he was to take all that time out for you.

Not for long. Soon, (Y/n), soon you won’t need to see anything but the bedroom.

You really needed to clear your sex-driven mind.

The door swung open and you threw yourself into Seokjin’s arms without hesitation. He had arrived back late in the night and had already slept off most of the jet-lag before texting you to let you know he was on his way to your house. You had almost certainly jumped out of your skin in surprise, because even though you knew you were both longing for each other, you still hadn’t been prepared at all.

“Sorry babe, I tried to stop them but they wouldn’t listen,” Seokjin grunted lowly into your ear, and you tried your best to stifle a shiver at the sound to think about the words.

“Noona! It’s great to see you!” A voice boomed, and you leaned back from the broad chest of your boyfriend to see Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok filtering in behind him.

“Guys, oh! How have you been?”

You moved to give them all friendly hugs, hoping to mask your utter shock. You glanced behind to see Seokjin gritting his teeth in cleverly hidden annoyance, but you knew him too well for it to be completely invisible. There were slight bags underneath his beautiful brown eyes.

He probably didn’t even tell the boys no, knowing how much they’ve wanted to visit lately.

You invited everyone inside and offered drinks immediately. The fun chatter built up and you left the bustling boys to themselves to go and get some water for them. If you had known they were coming and staying for a while, maybe you wouldn’t have been so quick to throw on the horribly risky lingerie set you’d bought a few weeks ago.

Soft footsteps sounded behind you and suddenly your body was being turned around to press backwards into the kitchen bench. You ran your arms up to loop around Seokjin’s neck, grateful that the kitchen was walled off from the other guys and their watchful eyes.

“I wanted to come here alone,” Seokjin exhaled, seemingly in a daze as he moved one of his hands down to grasp loosely at your waist. You ignored the fire spreading from his subtle touch and craned forward to press a loving kiss to his plump lips.

“I missed you so much, I wouldn’t care if you brought your whole fanbase with you.” You blinked pointedly.

He cracked a smile and pressed another tender kiss to your lips, the wet sound echoing through your mind jarringly. You knew if you focused your attention on his uneven breathing you would lose what little control you had left. It was bad enough that he had started to push his body further into yours as the seconds drew onwards.

“I haven’t had you in so long,” he sighed and sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to lean in and close any distance you might have had. You felt the heat pooling in your lower regions like some kind of dam had broken. His needy and darkened gaze called for your touch and attention loudly.

“(Y/n)-noona? We brought you a gift from America, do you want to open it now?” Jimin’s voice called from the living room. You realised with a jolt how filthy the current scene would seem, as Seokjin almost had you sprawled out on the surface of the bench. You probably would’ve let him take you right then and there too.

You looked at your beloved boyfriend knowingly before squeezing his biceps in reassurance and pushing off the edge of the counter. His loud disappointed sigh basically summed up your entire mood, but you knew you still had the whole upcoming weekend to yourselves.

“Coming!” You smiled tightly, preparing to walk out with the glasses of water in hand.

“Well fuck, you could be,” came Seokjin’s irritated mumble.

You tried your best to fight down the sparks of arousal at hearing his angry rasp behind you, but it was all pointless in the end. Your level-headed boyfriend bickered with others quite often, but when he was actually angry, boy that was another story.

Last time you had seen him that worked up, it had been over how he couldn’t get a certain dance move right even after hours upon hours of practice. He had come over with all his muscles tensed up from the building fury, and when you had offered to relieve his tension, he hadn’t hesitated on fucking you hard into the early hours of the next morning.

That’s a memory I should not be thinking of right now. Next thing I’ll be dropping to my knees right in front of the boys!

You shook your head, trying to concentrate on the words Jimin and Taehyung were speaking as they described each perfume they had discovered and brought back. You were so grateful for their thoughtfulness and thanked them so many times for the presents, but your eyes kept wandering to where Seokjin was sitting with his legs crossed conveniently; his eyes averted and fingers tapping to a random rhythm against the arm of the couch.

It had been way too long. It was almost too much for you to stand being in the same proximity as him, and even if he felt the same there was nothing either of you could really do except wait it out.

Your panties were soaking as you smashed in the code for Bangtan’s dorm. Seokjin had been constantly riling you up for the past hour over text, and now that you had finally managed to make your way over things were very heated for you. Your fingers trembled with adrenaline and you cursed when you accidentally punched in the wrong number more than once.

He had managed to score the whole dorm to himself for a small amount of time. This was an absolute triumph, because even though you had both freed up the weekend, escaping the members was truly another task in itself.

“Jin I-”

“Baby I’m so glad you’re here!” Seokjin’s noticeably forced shout caused you to stop in your tracks. The shock tightened its grip as you realised you definitely weren’t alone.

Your boyfriend sat on the couch surrounded by his smiling bandmates who were joking amongst themselves, but you knew by his painfully apologetic eyes and conspicuously placed couch cushion that this hadn’t been planned at all.

“Hey noona, we finished practice early so we could have a movie night!” Jungkook greeted as he jumped up to hug you warmly. You just couldn’t let the disappointment hang around for long when this bunny made an appearance.

“Hey Kook-ah.” You smiled sharply, trying to edge away from him so he wouldn’t accidentally feel what you were wearing underneath.

Fuck, Seokjin knows what it looks like too…

You locked eyes with your boyfriend and you both silently conveyed a sorrowful message.

Yes, you would need to do some more waiting apparently. Children were high maintenance, but you knew if this would’ve gone completely your way you would have dragged him into the nearest bedroom and ridden him like your life depended on it.

Sometimes he was just so caring it hurt; quite literally in your case if your weeping pussy had anything to say about it.

“Um, so what are we watching?” you asked through clenched teeth, smoothing down your skirt in hopes of hiding any ‘evidence’. You looked up again to see Yoongi slouched deep in his armchair and felt your heart thump when his piercing eyes flickered from you to Seokjin knowingly.

Shit, I forgot how perceptive this guy was.

You could see the hints of a half-amused smirk tugging at the rapper’s lips, and the fact that Seokjin’s cheeks were reddening gave away that he had noticed too. You had no time to feel the mortification creep up on you since the younger ones were already dragging you towards the couch.

“We picked a great action one, you’ll love it,” Taehyung rushed excitedly and barely even gave you time to comprehend what he was saying.

“Sorry we haven’t got enough room on the couch,” Jimin clicked his tongue, eyes scanning the room intently for a spare spot. You smiled and opened your mouth to say you were fine on the floor, but someone slipped in before you could speak.

“It’s fine, she can just sit on Seokjin’s lap like she always does. They’re together after all,” Yoongi suggested while craftily masking his intentions under a smile. You saw the way the smirk still poked through his guise all the same.

This sneaky bastard.

But you would admit, this had created the perfect opportunity to tease your boyfriend a little. Usually you wouldn’t hesitate at the chance, but this time you knew you would probably suffer just as badly. Seokjin met your eyes and gave the tiniest shake of his head in warning, there was no way he would be able to handle himself if your ass was pressing itself against his rock hard cock.

“Guess there’s nothing wrong with that.” You shrugged and watched as Jin’s expression crumbled into one of darkness and defeat. You knew exactly what was in store for you, and you loved it.

Yoongi covered the bottom of his face with one hand to muffle the chuckle threatening to break past. You smiled towards Hoseok and Namjoon on the other couch before strolling over and glancing down at your boyfriend with lidded eyes. He opened his arms for you, just as usual, but you felt the vital difference as soon as you sat down onto his muscled thighs.

A deep exhale brushed past your ear as he shifted underneath you, and every inch of your skin tingled with heat as you felt the prominent outline twitch suddenly. He was so aroused it was almost too much for even you to bear.

“Please try to stop moving, please (Y/n),” he blew into your ear almost silently. You couldn’t suppress the shiver that racked your form at the sensation of his breath, but this only caused a tiny grunt to fall from his lips. Damn, you were both way too sensitive to each other tonight, and Yoongi knew it too. The sly fox only sat there watching you two with the biggest shit-eating grin you had ever seen.

“Okay it’s getting good, everyone be quiet from now on.” Jungkook brought a finger to his lips, bunny eyes gleaming with enthusiasm as he grabbed Taehyung’s arm and ran to sit back down on the floor. Seokjin had his head bent forward to rest against your back as his whole body tensed up. You knew he was struggling to keep himself together.

“(Y/n) I’m about to lose it, stop fucking moving.” He shuddered as you unintentionally moved to get more comfortable. You just knew he was about to reach the breaking point, but he would regret everything if he exposed you both so quickly, so you reached to squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“Not here. Come over after the movie and we’ll make it real good,” you leaned down to whisper almost silently into his ear so nobody else could overhear. His lip was bitten as he registered the words, the tension from the implied promise hanging thickly in the air. If he had really wanted to calm himself down he would’ve sat on the floor himself not even minutes in.

You almost squeaked when he rolled his hips slowly upwards just once. Just small enough so you could feel what was waiting for you, but not noticeable to anyone else in the room. Even Yoongi had shifted his attention to the movie and had forgotten about the two horny beings sitting on the couch barely two metres away.

Minutes flew by as you struggled to keep your attention anywhere else, but you kept failing time and time again.

“Hey Jin-hyung?”

Your heart skipped a beat as Seokjin’s minuscule grinding came to a halt, a large breath trying to casually leave his lungs.

“Yeah?” His low voice crackled slightly.

“Now that it’s over can you help me with that hour-long vocal training thing you were talking about?” Jimin asked as he got to his feet and dusted off his shirt from the popcorn pieces.

Wait it’s over?

You were aghast as you looked over to see the credits of the movie scrolling down the screen. You had literally been focusing on the hard outlines pressing into your clothed heat the entire time. Now the cold dread and disappointment lodged itself deeply into your chest as you looked back to gauge Seokjin’s response. Your underwear was nothing but a scrap of wet cloth at this point.

“Argh! Fuck this!”

To your utter surprise, you felt two large hands swooping down to pick you up somewhat roughly. Everyone else gaped as Seokjin yanked you into his chest and marched furiously towards the hallway where his bedroom was. You were left to helplessly cling onto his neck as he abducted you away from everyone else.

“What was that about?” Hoseok was quick to pipe up, wondering why his eldest bandmate had gotten so agitated. Jimin quickly held up his hands to show his innocence, but Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged amused glances.

“If I were you, I'd go plug in your headphones.”

You were breathing heavily as Seokjin kicked open his already ajar door, not even caring if he made enough noise to alert the whole building.

“Are you okay babe?” you huffed, watching in amazement as he proceeded to close the door by knocking it with his hip sharply. He didn’t utter a word and only growled before throwing you onto the bed.

Excitement crawled up your body as you were suddenly being pressed into the mattress, his lips were on you in an instant, hungry and desperate. Nothing could be heard but your occasional gasps for air as the primal urges took over.

He needed to have you, and you needed to have him inside you as soon as possible. You positively ached for it.

“Sorry, I just can’t waste time right now,” Seokjin grunted, eyebrows still furrowed from the irritation lingering in his mind. You knew this look. This was the look, the one that had gotten you mercilessly drilled for hours on end. Your heart almost stopped at the strong surge of arousal licking at your abdomen.

“No foreplay needed, I’m flooding myself right now.”

He locked eyes with you for one electrifying moment before licking his lips and pulling you close to his heated body. Without warning, he plunged one hand underneath the edge of your skirt to search for proof of your words, and your lusty whimper mingled with his pleased moan as he ran his fingers along the dripping entrance he found there.

“Fuck, I could slip in so easily.”

You eyed the prominent bulge growing even larger in his pants, but couldn’t act because you were now both too busy undressing yourselves. He was as ravenous as a starved dog, and there was barely a moment where he wasn’t marking your skin or leaving wet kisses in his wake. You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself either, and the sinful noises falling from him only drove you onward.

You let out a breathy moan as he flipped you onto your stomach roughly. You caught sight of his tensed muscles briefly, and you knew he was so worked up it was insane, yet exhilarating at the same time.

“How will you take me?” You moved one arm to sweep your hair over your shoulder, letting him see the entire expanse of your arched back and rounded ass on full view.

“Wow, just like this. I can’t make it slow tonight, I want to fuck your brains out (Y/n),” he almost whispered, voice low and raspy with desire. You didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were filled with a familiar fire, but the thought caused a fresh wave of need to hit you full-force, and suddenly a trail of your own hot wetness slid down your thigh.

“My God, are you trying to kill me?” He groaned and you heard the breath leaving his lungs harshly. The ripping of the condom packet made you jump in anticipation. You arched your back further and sighed, completely ready for this bundling ball of pent up frustration to unleash his wrath onto you and your pussy.

His hand smoothed down your back and you felt the tiny hairs rising at the sensation. This upped sensitivity was going to be the death of you both, and you knew he could also tell by the way your thighs trembled with longing.

“Head down, my love.”

With that he thrust forward and made sure to follow through with a smooth grind of his hips. You cried out in pure pleasure as his length eased past your soaking folds with little resistance. You shifted backwards to meet him, but still winced at the somewhat tight fit. It had been a while, but at least you had plenty of time to get accustomed.

“O-oh, oh that’s good,” He moaned painfully above you, but you knew the serenity wouldn’t last. He was too frenzied to stop at any moment. His hands were already gripping firmly at the tops of your thighs to spread your bent legs further apart.

A plethora of bruises later, but I’m not complaining now…

You sunk your teeth into the nearest pillow as he began setting a punishing pace. Your walls were being battered by his cock, and he was hitting that sweet spot so rapidly you were already coming undone beneath him. You angled your body higher and couldn’t help but moan wantonly at how he hit you in even deeper places.

“This is for all the time we could’ve been fucking,” Seokjin growled through gritted teeth. “A whole weekend, this is a whole weekend in one.”

You widened your eyes at his words, feeling tears prick at the corners from the pure amount of pleasure building up in your core. He twisted you so you rotated on his cock to lay on your back again, and only groaned in approval when your head and shoulders were met by his headboard with a dull ‘thud’.

“Don’t hide anything, I don’t care if they hear everything,” he breathed into your ear as he spread your thighs open once more, the surface of your skin visibly glistening with your fluids. He took in the sight eagerly before looking up with darkened eyes. You knew how completely messed up you were, but he looked pretty fucked too with his flushed complexion and shuddering breaths.

You opened your mouth to reply, but he shoved his thick cock back into your heat unexpectedly, and your words came out in a garbled scream. This new missionary angle felt even more deliciously sensitive and deeper.

“That’s it,” he grunted, brows creasing in concentration as he watched every little contortion of your expression.

He fucked hard and fast, not leaving any room for thinking as you climaxed shockingly. Your thighs shook and your whole abdomen clenched as the orgasm racked your form. Your cry of relief could probably be heard by the whole dorm, but you couldn’t let your mind wander to that when Seokjin picked up the pace again.

The feeling of your walls spasming around his length caused his common sense to fly out the window. He lowered his body onto yours so he could enter you quickly and easily, your beautiful and breathy noises edging him further to the edge he so desperately sought.

Your shoulders and back continuously edged further up the headboard as he pounded into you. You could vaguely hear the banging of the wood against the snowy white wall behind, but your attention was ripped away as another orgasm abruptly bloomed and jerked your entire body into uncontrollability.

Seokjin reached up to still your shoulders, throwing his head back in complete ecstasy as he allowed the slow rhythmic rolling of your muscles to send him over. He groaned loudly as he came, abdominal muscles tensing as he breathed deeply and gently moved his hips to ride out the finish. You were a sight to behold below him, eyes closed and swollen lips hanging open in blissful shock. He watched in admiration as your clammy body continued to jolt occasionally from the aftershocks.

No words were spoken, but you felt his lips against your skin through the haze clouding your mind. He tenderly trailed the outlines of your neck and jawline as if saying ‘thank you, I’m sorry’. You only gasped as another wave of sensitivity coursed through you from head to curled toes. You could still feel the heavy weight of him nestled inside you, but you didn’t want him to leave.

“You’re always so good to me baby. I needed that.” He sighed and almost reluctantly pulled out of your soaking folds slowly. You whined as the sharp feeling almost brought you closer to the edge again, but the stimulation was just too much. He inhaled sharply in stunned disbelief and moved to calm you down with soft words of encouragement.

“I-I think that’s the best sex we’ve had. You were amazing and fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced,” You breathed out, eyes still closed and one hand resting over your eyes as you tried to see anything other than stars. His deep chuckle sounded from somewhere beside you as he got up to dispose of the condom. You sighed before also getting up to use the toilet and clean up a little.

“If only we could go at it for two days…We waited for so long,” he murmured as you returned from the bathroom to see him pulling on some loose pants. You looked around and found one of his large shirts to throw on before climbing back into bed with him.

“Well considering how rough you were when you were angry, I wouldn’t mind getting you like that more often.” You smirked as you cuddled into his chest, trying your best to ignore the dull ache flaming from your lower regions.

“What? (Y/n) if you wanted me to be rougher all you had to do was ask.” He snorted, reaching down to smooth away some of your hair and pull you further into his arms. You hummed as he pecked tiny kisses down your bare arm.

“Well, I guess I just found out.”

The next morning you woke a little earlier than usual. Seokjin still slept soundly as you smiled at the sight of his slightly parted lips and fluttering eyelashes. He was so adorable when he was like this, but then your mind flashed back to the smouldering heat within his gaze and the rough pumps of his hips last night.

Well everyone has their duality I guess.

You took a deep breath as you swung your legs out of the bed, wanting to prepare your boyfriend an amazing breakfast for making you feel so good the night before. You made it to the door with a little difficulty, but as soon as you tried to walk normally the ache flared from your vagina and you stumbled forwards into the hallway.

Your knees bent at awkward angles as you tried to shuffle down the passageway, wincing while keeping one hand clenched at your pelvis almost as a reassurance. Damn, he had seriously taken away your ability to walk this time.

You grunted in exasperation, yet somehow didn’t completely hate the sore feeling. You looked up in determination to get to the kitchen but felt your breath hitch when you saw Yoongi and Namjoon sitting at the bench eyeing you in shock.

Shit, they just watched me amble down the hall like a newborn deer.

“Uh, maybe you should get some rest (Y/n),” Namjoon suggested with a kind smile tugging at his lips. He had a half-eaten slice of toast in front of him, and you felt hunger bubble up in your stomach at the combination of smells.

“God knows you didn’t get any last night…” Yoongi mumbled and you stifled a surprised chuckle as Namjoon wacked his fellow rapper’s shoulder, utterly horrified. You leaned against the wall as they looked to you for a response.

“Well,” you began with a smug raise of your eyebrows. “I’d be lying if I said you were wrong.”

#kim seokjin #jin smut #bts jin #rough jin #fluff and smut #bts seokjin #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #reader #yoongi is a little shit #bts #saladejin

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aeondeug · 3 years

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There’s a lot of things that I felt while reading the end of the comic. The one thing that really hit me hardest in the emotional feels though was Ichigo managing this sort of perfect mix of his power sets and combining them together. And when Orihime looks at him and is scared because of the like whole Vasto Lorde stabbed Uryu incident he tells her that it’s ok. He is still him. And then he proceeds to go on this explanation of like. How the powers come from his specific family backgrounds and he wasn’t able to meld them together before but now he can. He isn’t great at it yet, he admits that too. But he can mix them and all and isn’t afraid of them.

I’m mixed. Specifically I fall into that lovely european hell stew thing on one half and then the other half it’s Mexican. I grew up and still live in an environment where it is regularly told to me that Mexicans aren’t really people. That we’re somehow monstrous or animalistic. We show up as drug dealers, gang members, overly sexualized women who are seductive as hell and down to fuck in media. When we’re talked about by papers, writers use words like “hunt” when talking about us. And casually people just talk about how we’re stupid, angry, sexist, and so on and so forth. Just like as casual ass conversation.

This is a very easy environment to grow like a sense of intense self loathing in. And a violent denial of what one is. I read a story recently written by Kim Sa-Ryang recently for a class called Into the Light. Kim Sa-Ryang being a Zainichi, a Korean living in Japan, writer. In it there’s this kid named Haruo. His mom’s Zainichi. His dad, people think, mainland Japanese. When she gets in the hospital people talk about that. Just talk loudly about the fact that his mom’s Korean. The kid starts crying and shouts “That’s a lie! My mom’s not Korean!” and he turns to his teacher, also Korean, and begs him “I’m not Korean! I’m not! Tell him, Mr. Minami!” And that just hits me. Really hard. Because that’s what I was like as a kid. That sort of self hatred and denial.

Which takes us back to Bleach. Bleach we’ve got like. Ichigo being nervous about or in denial about the whole hollow inside him thing. It’s a tough topic. A thing he kind of hates. Which makes sense. It’s very spooky and this whole time hollows have kind of like been things he’s fighting and they’re like angry and violent. They’re not evil. They’re people who need help and he helps them. But they’re still emotions just run absolutely rampant. And he has to take time getting over this. Incorporating it. And even at the end of Arrancar he hasn’t perfectly figured it out. And we learn that this all comes from his father and the soul realer half of his family. And this is a thing he only learns in his teens.

But then he learns another thing. He’s also in his late teens when he learns that his mother was a Quincy. Literally no one told him about this. It’s just a thing he learns later. He knew about the like trauma that the Quincies have as a whole and the genocide they went through because of Uryu. But it’s been a sort of distant thing. And now he’s learning oh actually you’re a Quincy too and like your mom has this complicated thing going on with how she was raised. Because of what she is. This all just kind of being dumped in an arc where the ancestral father of the Quincies has gone “Oh yeah I like rule all Quincies and have weird blood based mind control basically yo”.

I said, again. That I’m mixed. The rest is a european stew and most of that is like something I am extremely disconnected from. With one exception. And that one is the Ukrainian side of the family. Growing up I didn’t really know about this much. The word “Ukrainian” was used but was never talked in any more detail than like “Oh we’re part Scottish, family is from Nova Scotia too”. But like in terms of things that we’ve got foodwise. A lot of it’s Ukrainian foods. Things like pierogi, cabbage rolls, etc. We had weird things about food. We always had more food than anyone else. We had a particular love of imperishables in specific and hoarded those. There was a strong emphasis on not wasting any food. Extremely strong. And we’re always eating. Always. Think Kyoko from Madoka levels of constantly snacking. We also hated Russia and communists. This I didn’t think much of because most Americans do. But like. My family had and still has a particularly strong hatred for it. One that when I compare it to like general worries burns far, far hotter.

I learned, in my teens, that my family went to Canada. I learned when they did. And I was able to finally piece two and two together with that whole Holodomor thing. The Ukrainian genocide by the USSR. No one told me about this. That we were refugees. It was just a thing I learned much later on in life. Just like oh wow huh. We’ve got like this generational trauma thing that literally no one talked about. Something that’s just dropped in my lap later on in life and I have to figure out how to cope with this sudden new info of like “Oh yeah by the way we were almost murdered by a genocidal regime that happened and that’s why we collect cans of food.”

So we have this moment of Ichigo perfectly synthesizing those two halves. The spooky, scary monster but it isn’t actually monstrous half from his father. The suddenly learned in your late teens that your family were victims of a genocide side from his mother. And he combines them together. He admits that he’s still not too good at things. That he’s still figuring things out. But he’s able to look at them both head on. He’s able to figure out how they interact. How to combine them together. Because he’s both. He’s both and he’s still him and being both is part of why he’s him and why he’s still him.

Given like my life. My experience. This hits really hard. It means a lot. I do get why people go “Oh well it’s just bullshit. Ichigo is just all these things already and then he learns that he’s also a Quincy? What the fuck!” Because like, yes, it does seem very “Oh look how special he is” and it does get used to give him special super powers. But I look at it and I just see me. The person having to untangle weird fucked up self hatred towards one part of me. The person having to untangle that so much of my behavior draws back to this trauma no one felt I had any need to know about. And the person who has to find out how to meld that all together and to accept it all.

At some point I’d like to look into this more formally. Less personally. Grabbing stuff from the comic. Pointing out how Ichigo just assumed he was like just Japanese. Talking about that with quotes and stuff and bringing other works and writers and what not. But for now I suppose this will do. Ichigo’s a mixed kid. And one whose ultimate power comes from untangling that all and melding it together. That means things to me.

#bleach

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jedivoodoochile · 4 years

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Release date : 12th May 1972

The Rolling Stones – Exile On Main Street

First manager Andrew Loog Oldham said in the sleeve notes to the Stones’ first album: ‘The Rolling Stones are more than a group, they are a way of life’, and of no album is that truer than Exile On Main Street. The legend persists that it was all created in the dank basement of the former Nazi headquarters in Villefranche-Sur-Mer in the Summer of 1971, although a large portion was overdubbed in sessions in Los Angeles, where other songs were created from scratch. Some of the other recordings predated the trip to France, having been recorded in the UK, at Olympic Studios in Barnes.

However, the SPIRIT of the basement prevails throughout and it is the murky swampiness of the whole endeavour, extending to Mick Jagger’s all but indecipherable vocals, that have seen it acclaimed as the Stones’ most complete statement and possibly the most rock album the band ever made.

The guitar sound is largely due to Ry Cooder, whose involvement in the sessions of 1969’s Performance soundtrack, showed the possibilities of the ‘open G’ tuning on the guitar. Crucially, the guitar is tuned to a chord, but in Keith Richards’ book Life, he describes how he discarded the 6th (lowest) string, giving the lowest string (now a G) the role of a drone, quite appropriate to the blues. It also allowed the mega-riffs of the Mark 2 Stones’ biggest hits: Honky Tonk Women and Brown Sugar, which underpinned new member Mick Taylor’s melodic country/blues lines, melding to create a whole new style. Even now, the first chords of either of the above will pack a dance floor anywhere in the UK. With reference to Exile, the most prominent use of the 5-string open-tuned guitar is on Rocks Off, Happy, Ventilator Blues, Tumbling Dice and All Down The Line.

The Stones had recruited the sensitive 20-year old Mick Taylor in 1969 from John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, where he became the third stellar lead guitarist to play the blues in Mayall’s band, following Eric Clapton and Peter Green. His first sessions were for the Let It Bleed album, overdubbing guitar on Country Honk and Live With Me plus some pivotal parts for the Honky Tonk Women single on the 1st June session that ended at 3:15AM.

Honky Tonk Women went to #1 in the UK and the US in July 1969, followed by the Let It Bleed album in December, another triumph. Any doubts created by the subsequent 18-month gap in releases were dispelled by the release of Brown Sugar in April 1971 (another US #1), followed in May by Sticky Fingers, possibly the strongest Stones album to date, and one that showcased the guitar interplay between Keith Richards and Mick Taylor, alongside some great songs, including Sway, Wild Horses and Bitch.

Having recorded sessions at Olympic Studios in Barnes, London, which included tracks like Stop Breaking Down and Sweet Virginia, The Stones had continued recording and writing in the Summer of 1970 at Stargroves, Jagger’s English country house, with the Stones’ own mobile recording studio, a move that became standard operating procedure for other UK bands, including Led Zeppelin. The mobile came in handy when the Stones discovered that in signing with US manager Allen Klein, their copyrights had reverted to him, so when they severed their connection with him in 1970, their income came under threat. They were also in a cash flow crisis, at a time when the UK taxman took 93% of high earners’ income, so they felt that the only thing to do was to get out of town, planning to spend at least 21 months outside the UK from 1971 onwards.

According to Bill Wyman, the band had at least working versions of seven tracks to take with them, including Tumbling Dice (original title: Good Time Women), Black Angel (which became Sweet Black Angel), Stop Breaking Down and Shine A Light.

In early April 1971, the band decamped to France, Mick Jagger marrying Bianca in St. Tropez on May 12th and honeymooning on the Riviera, before settling in Paris with his new bride. Keith Richards rented a villa, Nellcôte, in Villefranche-Sur-Mer, near Nice, while the other band members rented houses further to the west. The basement at Nellcôte became a makeshift studio to record using the band’s mobile recording studio.

In interviews with Ian Fortnam for the 2010 reissue of Exile, Keith Richards and Charlie Watts gave their contemporary perspectives on what went down: ‘They couldn’t get you in jail, so they put the economics on you, the old double whammy,’ said Keith. ‘So the feeling within the band was we’ve got to show them we’re made of sterner stuff and prove you couldn’t break the Stones just by kicking them out of England.’

The band again called on the services of their mobile studio and parked it outside Keith’s villa in order to carry on the recordings for the next album, the second on their own Rolling Stones records label, although according to Keith Richards, that wasn’t their first intention. They had been planning to look for studios in Nice or Cannes, but in the event, the band came to Keith, with the Stones mobile in residence from June 7th.

American producer Jimmy Miller had supervised the two previous albums, but the Nellcôte sessions were much more difficult to coordinate, partly because not all the band were around at the same time. Recording continued sporadically for some months until the French authorities began to apply pressure to rid themselves of the Stones and their entourage, who by then were engaged in various levels of illegal behaviour.

Drummer Charlie Watts was about three hours away, in Thoiras, west of Avignon, and bassist Bill Wyman and guitarist Mick Taylor were ensconced near Grasse, so at least one of the songs on Exile was made without them, although the album credits have never been clear about who actually did what. In the case of one of the most Stones-sounding recordings, very few of the Stones were initially on it. Happy, a showcase for Keith Richards’ vocals and guitar, has producer Jimmy Miller on drums and Keith doubling on bass. The basics were laid down between noon and 4PM one afternoon, with just Miller on drums, Bobby Keys on baritone saxophone, and Richards on the rest, including the lyrics and lead vocal.

Charlie Watts loved Jimmy Miller. ‘I thought he was the best producer we ever had. Jimmy was a hands-on type of guy. When we played he could never keep still, so he’d always be banging something; a drum or a cowbell’ [check out the start of Honky Tonk Women]. Miller insisted that Charlie‘s drums be tested in as many of the basement’s labyrinth of rooms as possible, before settling on one that had the right balance of natural ambience and proximity to the guitar players to maintain the vibe. It took a week or two to get the setup right, but after that, things apparently settled down.

The schedule did become a bit strange, as recalled by Keith Richards. ‘It became known as Keith Time, which in Bill Wyman’s case made him a little cranky. Not that he said anything. At first, we were going to start at two PM [every day], but that never happened. So we said we’d start at 6PM, which usually meant around 1 AM. Charlie didn’t seem to mind.’

But when Keith was on form, he would deliver, as with Rocks Off, which, according to engineer Andy Johns, involved a playback to Keith at 4 or 5AM. Keith went to sleep in mid-track, so Johns took that as the cue to get his own head down, driving the necessary half-hour home. He was just nodding off when the phone rang – it was Keith, asking where he’d got to. So Johns drove back to Nellcote – another half hour – at which point Keith picked up his Telecaster and played the second guitar part on Rocks Off, straight through.

The sessions were at least the backbone of the album. Said Keith: ‘A lot of the songs started off with an idea. Mick’s playing harp, you join in and before you knew it you had a track in the making and an idea working. It might not be the finished track; you’re not trying to force it.’

There was also much space for the interplay between Richards and lead guitarist Mick Taylor. Keith: ‘Brian [Jones] and I would swap roles. There was no defined line between lead and rhythm guitar, but with Mick’s style I had to readjust the shape of the band and it was beautifully lyrical. He was a lovely lead player. I loved playing with Mick Taylor.’

Some of the songs were collaborations, like All Down The Line, which, according to Keith Richards, he started with the basic idea of ‘I hear it coming, all down the line’ and handed it over to Mick Jagger to develop. Richards was extremely prolific and came up with many songs which didn’t eventually make on to the final release, including Head In The Toilet Blues, Leather Jackets (although Bill Wyman lists it as having been recorded at Olympic), Windmill, I Was Just A Country Boy, Dancing In The Light,(noted as possibly being one of Mick Jagger’s), Bent Green Needles, Labour Pains and Pommes de Terre.

Richards described the self-imposed pressure that he and Jagger felt when requiring themselves to come up with song ideas in anticipation of the arrival of the other musicians. Casino Boogie came about when inspiration was lacking and they decided to follow the William Burroughs ‘cut up’ technique (also used occasionally by David Bowie), whereby a book or newspaper is disassembled into component words, which are then re-assembled to create a new lyrical direction.

So, contrary to popular belief, the whole album wasn’t recorded in the South Of France, although most of the backing tracks were. As Keith Richards notes in his book Life: ‘What we brought to LA from France was only raw material for Exile. The real bare bones, no overdubs. On almost every song we’d said, we’ve got to put a chorus on here, we’ve got to put some chicks in there, we need extra percussion on that. So LA was basically to put the flesh on. For four or five months in LA in early 1972, we mixed and overdubbed Exile On Main Street. According to Bill Wyman, most of the Stones flew to LA on November 29th, 1971, followed later by the Wymans, for sessions that went on til February 1972.

It seems to have been planned as a double from an early stage, Richards mentioning ‘all business advice’ that warned against it. Which, to be fair to whoever was dishing out the advice (probably Ahmet Ertegun and Atlantic Records), was usually correct – double LPs had to be competitively priced, but they cost twice as much to manufacture, were heavier to ship, and their length and quantity of material meant they were harder for the public to assimilate, more difficult to review objectively, and took longer to get on the airwaves, at a time when multiple singles releases off an album was not the norm.

At Sunset Sound in Los Angeles, the basic tracks of at least Rip This Joint, Shake Your Hips, Casino Boogie, Happy, Rocks Off, Turd On The Run and Ventilator Blues were given numerous overdubs, including all the piano and keyboard parts, all lead and backing vocals, plus more overdubs of guitar and bass. The sessions included new recordings of Torn And Frayed and Loving Cup and saw Mick Jagger coming into his own, finishing off the vocals and bringing in other contributors.

A host of other musicians assisted the Stones on the LA overdubs, including Nicky Hopkins and Ian ‘Stu’ Stewart on pianos, and a mass of backing vocalists including Gram Parsons, Clydie King, Joe Green, Venetta Fields, Tamiya Lynn, Shirley Goodman, Dr. John, Kathi McDonald and Jess Kirkland. Jazz sessioneer Bill Plummer added upright bass to Rip This Joint and Turd On The Run, Al Perkins from Manassas played pedal steel guitar on Torn And Frayed, Billy Preston contributed keyboards to Shine A Light, and Richard Washington played marimba on Sweet Black Angel. Stalwart Bobby Keys played sax, with Jim Price on trumpet and organ on Torn And Frayed, while producer Jimmy Miller played drums and percussion where necessary.

The first hearing that the public and broadcasters had of Exile was the single, Tumbling Dice, one of the most multi-layered, murky, uneven recordings any band has ever released, and yet it is probably one of the Stones’ five finest records. There is something to listen at every turn, the rhythm is insistent, the lyrics are compelling, there’s rollicking piano, sweet Mick Taylor licks, (and his bass playing, the loudest thing on the track, is exactly wrong, but exactly right). Mick Jagger’s lyrics are almost indecipherable and mixed so far back they’re practically only a texture, but the whole thing is the Stones personified – far from perfect, but still fantastic.

As Keith Richards said in 2010: ‘Mick’s always seemed to have something of an ambivalent attitude to Exile… ‘, and here indeed are Jagger’s comments from 2003: ‘Exile is not one of my favourite albums, although I think the record does have a particular feeling. I’m not too sure how great the songs are, but put together it’s a nice piece. However, when I listen to Exile it has some of the worst mixes I’ve ever heard. I’d love to remix the record, not just because of the vocals, but because generally, I think it sounds lousy.’ Well, it could certainly be mixed with more clarity, but to do that would be to lose its essential Stones-ness, which would upset the millions to have bought it thus far.

Preceded by the UK and US Top 10 hit Tumbling Dice, Exile On Main St. was released in May 1972. It was an immediate commercial success, reaching #1 worldwide just as the band embarked on their celebrated 1972 American Tour, their first for three years. The second, and only other, single from the album, Happy, got to #22 in the US in July.

Many critics judged Exile On Main St. to be a ragged and impenetrable record at the time of its release, but the UK’s Richard Williams, writing in Melody Maker, praised the album in a review entitled ‘The Stones: Quite Simply the Best’. He said the album ‘is definitely going to take its place in history’ and ‘it’s the best album they’ve ever made. This is an album which utterly repulses the sneers and arrows of outraged put-down artists. Once and for all, it answers any questions about their ability as rock ‘n’ rollers.’

Keith Richards has the last word: ‘We didn’t start off intending to make a double album; we just went down to the south of France to make an album and by the time we’d finished we said, ‘We want to put it all out.’ I was no longer interested in hitting Number One in the charts every time. What I want to do is good shit – if it’s good they’ll get it some time down the road.’

#the rolling stones #exile on main street

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evien-stark · 4 years

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✧I Need You✧ Chapter 93

Trying to resume business as usual was tough over the next few days. The thought kept running in your mind. Thor had returned to earth. Thor had taken Jane and then gone back to Asgard. All within a couple of minutes at best. And right before then there was some anomaly Tony and Bruce had been tracking. This all seemed weird. And complicated. And… probably dangerous.

You remembered that night at the charity ball, when Jane had barged up into your penthouse and demanded answers about Thor. As she had every right to, and nowhere else to turn. Thor had disappeared after the Battle of New York- had not called or spoken to her, even though he could have. A sentiment you understood and sympathized with. But then what sense would it make that he should appear so suddenly, grab her, and then leave? And right in the middle of a skirmish with the police?

It was all strange. And absolutely spoke of something dangerous on the horizon. The Avengers needed a better way to get in contact with Thor, if he was going to be gone so far away all the time. This Asgard… his home. You really knew nothing about it. Which unnerved you all the more. And you just couldn’t stop thinking about it. Now more than ever. Thor’s sibling rivalry with his brother Loki was what had turned earth upside down. Had threatened its safety, its people.

They were aliens too. Just like the ones Loki had brought. Something serious had happened to or with or even because of Jane. Something that had mildly spooked Tony and Bruce. While Bruce, of the two, was certainly more spookable… the fact that Tony had been basically on lock down in the lab since coming back from lunch that day- and very clearly didn’t want to talk about whatever findings he was finding… it didn’t bode well. Things like this never boded well. And you weren’t sure, so soon after the bruise that was still aching in your heart, in your mind, over everything you’d been through similar to this… you weren’t sure you could handle something like that again so soon.

Sleep, as always in moments like these, eluded you. And Tony- really, did he even know the meaning or point of sleep? You were starting to guess he may have been less human than you thought, and only really lied down when you asked him to. Otherwise he’d be up, buzzing on cups of quadruple shots of espresso, thinking and learning and doing late into the night into the next morning into the next day… Endless. You worried about him. He sunk so deep into these things. Because he was worried.

Same as you.

When you went down to the lab nearing four AM that morning, he was writing all sorts of equations over a long expansive holoboard that was taking up half of the back room. Several screens were on stands beside him. He had those blue tinted glasses on. Bruce- ...Bruce’s head was down atop his folded arms. More human than the rest of you. You gave him a little pat-pat on his shoulders and a small gentle ease of your hand over his back. He didn’t startle, only mumbling briefly, looking up at you with blurry eyes. You gave him a gentle smile and a little nudge. Didn’t take much to get him out of the lab and into bed where he belonged.

But Tony…? Once the room was clear save for the two of you, you stepped closer, not surprised when he gave you a glance out of the corner of his eye in the middle of writing something else on the board. Well aware that you were there. Reaching up you rubbed your palm between his shoulder blades. “You gonna tell me what’s really going on yet?” You didn’t consider this lying quite yet, the massive amount of information concealing he was doing.

...but it was toeing a line. “If I knew, I’d tell you, honey.” But this… this you believed. The only thing that drove Tony crazy like this was having massive amounts of data and not being able to put it all together. The only thing that stressed him like this was knowing of something yet not knowing what to do about it. Not having a solution.

“Well… what is it you’re working on?” If he babbled science and numbers at you, there was probably little chance you’d be able to understand it. Maybe for that reason it would be a waste of his time to even try.

He took a breath, stopping his scribbles, standing back from all his work. “Something’s going on over in the UK. Science is starting to not look like science anymore. Which- fine- kinda used to nonsense going on over there- but-” You felt a little better when he started rambling. “That abandoned factory where they found Foster- where Thor went- that gravitational anomaly had been there for longer than we had a hint of it. And when her team went to go check it out, it was kind of like… poking a bear. Whatever she did- she made it worse. And Thor showing up throws a whole other bag of peanuts into this.”

Thor was probably the key to all of this, really. You couldn’t help a sigh, holding a hand to the side of your face. “I’d really like to give him a communicator or something…”

At this Tony let go of a breathy chuckle. “If I knew how far Asgard was, I’d know how far I have to throw a satellite into space.” Something seemed to register properly, he turned quickly to one of the work stations nearest, and lifted a very familiar friend. “Here, by the way.” He settled a newly finished Heart Reactor into your palm. In the middle of all this mad supposed science, he’d been working on getting an upgrade for you. Along with… “And these- upgraded voice commands- plugged right into the suit. Better wide spread radius on the audio. Fully programmable. Upgraded tech pack. Higher heat resistance…”

Like the first time he had presented you with them, he held out a little black box and opened it for you. The earring cuffs that you’d basically exploded into dust had been changed to a slimmer cuff with a tapering, almost vine-like soft rounded line that trailed down the part that would rest over the shell of your ears. Like the last, it was easy to tell he’d crafted these with thought and care and love.

You took them from the box and clipped on one, then the other, feeling a little light buzz as they lit to life and melded comfortably to the shape of your ears. His genius for tech would forever be beyond you. But the fact that he could just make things like this- what were they… nanotech if you remembered correctly. Millions?- of ...computers? Robots? Both? All working together simultaneously to protect you. Guard you.

Already you felt safer with them back on. Maybe if you’d had them that night… you could have called for help… You wondered if Tony had been thinking the same thing, too. And reworked all of this in his guilt. ...wondered might have been a mild word, considering you knew in your heart that was true. “Thank you.” Smiling up at him.

He returned the sentiment by pulling you close, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Drawing you in tight to him. There, you rested your head against his chest, eyes closing, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. And then the rumble of his words as he spoke. “I love you. When I crack this thing, I need to-”

JARVIS cut him off. “Sir, the gravitational field is weakening in the same spot- the anomaly is expanding once again.”

“Any gamma bursts?”

“Not at this time.”

Annoyance flickered hard then between the two of you- solely belonging to Tony. He stepped away from you, going back to the board to scribble an angry mess over some of the contents. “That doesn’t track.” You stood back from him, hands nervously clasped together, as he started writing angrily. “JARVIS-”

“My mistake, sir- something is rapidly approaching earth- trajectory marked on screen- gamma flux levels rising.”

You thought you heard a shriek. A high pitched ring was whining in your ears. “Approaching earth? What does that mean? How could you know that?”

Tony was pulling the screen up and closer. “Yeah, well… throwing satellites into space has many uses… not just a floating cell tower...”

“Tony-” Reaching out to take a hard hold of his bicep, both miffed that he’d done something on that scale and terrified, because this sounded a lot like-

“I said I didn’t know how far to put it out, not that I didn’t-” It trickled in to him in that moment. What he’d been pointedly ignoring. Because now was absolutely not a good time for him to dissolve. Much in the way that you were. He turned, taking in your sudden trembling, laying a strong hand to your shoulder. “Honey. Look at me. We don’t know what this is yet. It could be anything- JARVIS could be getting a little overzealous. Might not even come close to us yet. It’s pretty far out-”

JARVIS stopped him again. “While I sincerely appreciate your undermining me, sir, Darcy Lewis is on the phone. She says it is urgent.”

You quickly answered, “Put her through, please!”

Her voice came not a second later. “Uh- hello? Is this the Avengers? Because I think I got one of yours over here- Thor and Jane just kinda came back-”

You and Tony talked over each other. While you requested, “Put Thor on please!” He demanded, “Hand Jane the phone.”

Which left Darcy confused. “Uhm… which one? I could put it on speaker…”

The two of you shared a mutually confused look. You started. “Thor will know what’s going on.”

Tony crossed his arms. “Thor will know what’s coming. Jane’s a scientist. She’ll know what’s happening.” Which- for him- meant filling in the blank spots that had been perplexing him. And figuring out how to fix whatever was going on. He held a hand up. “Never mind. Don’t worry. You talk to Thor.” Then taking his phone out of his pocket, “JARVIS, get me Dr. Foster.” Then paced away.

So… while he was getting information from one of them, you supposed… “Darcy, can I talk to Thor, please? And LUNA, can you transfer it to my cell-” Taking your own phone out, holding it up to your ear. Less noise to distract Tony. There was a lot happening all at once, you recognized the sound of another phone going off- Jane’s presumably- and then when Darcy said here and you recognized the switch, you couldn’t help not only your excitement but your anxiety as well. “Thor!!”

“Ah- hello- is that you, Lady? It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Thor, what’s going on?” Tony, in the other corner of the lab, had started talking rapidly, so you put a hand over your opposite ear and turned away. “Something’s got Tony all worked up- something bad I think, and you guys are at the center of it all-”

“Lady please take heed- something Jane has called the convergence is upon us. One of Asgard’s enemies means to utilize it and unleash a weapon called the Aether. We don’t have much time.”

Though it made you feel awfully guilty, you couldn’t help but let your mind stray there. “...is it Loki?”

A short silence cut between the two of you until his solemn tone stepped in. “Though Loki was driven by madness and malice and it hurt your people- he helped Jane and I. And it cost him his life.”

“Thor- I’m… sorry-” Really. For the most part. Loki was responsible for a lot of the hurt, the pain, the destruction- the loss of life that still haunted both you and Tony, but… you were still trying to figure out just how much of him was responsible. Like… who loaned him that army? And had that scepter been controlling him, too? You remembered that yellow static…

Questions for another day.

“Now is not the time for grieving, though I appreciate your sentiment. Jane and I have to go- Malekith will be here soon.”

“Tony and I can come help- we can assemble the other Avengers-” Feeling a sudden sense of dread. Whatever was heading towards earth- that was this Malekith. And from the sounds of it, he had some sort of weapon of mass destruction.

New York all over again… how could you let Thor face that alone? His team needed to be there!

“Stay where you are, Lady. I assure you Jane and I have this handled. If you and Stark come, you’ll only be putting yourselves in danger. ...aside that… this has become very personal. I will end Malekith’s aggressions. For all of Asgard.”

“Thor-!” Was he crazy?? What was the point of all of you- and- besides that- he was bringing his shit to earth. AGAIN. This man needed a severe talking to. Fury hadn’t been 100% correct with the way he’d wanted to handle things but god damn it. This was getting truly upsetting.

“This is Asgardian business, I will finish it myself!” Something was upsetting Thor, though. He’d never spoken to you like that before, even if you’d only known each other a short time. He’d always been very kind and sweet to you. The loss of Loki-... was it driving him that far? “...when I am finished, I will find you. That is a promise. I know we have a lot we have to speak on.”

“Thor!” It was evident the call was over. He didn’t answer, and the slice of the other line ending abruptly was all too evident. Yet still, “Thor!” Heat filled your veins. This was stupid. Foolhardy. And worst of all…

“Honey?”

You threw your phone to the table and then pressed the Heart Reactor to your chest, double tapping afterwards. The suit up felt slicker, somehow. Perhaps he’d heightened the sequence. The way it shaped against you felt better somehow, too. You turned to look at him, not yet activating the helmet. “Asgardian business my ass. He’s bringing aliens to earth. Again. And I’m not gonna sit here and wait around for his say so to protect our own people.”

“Now, honey… to be fair…” Tony stepped closer, putting his hands on your arms. “He’s an alien. Remember. So technically he’s already brought at least one.” He was trying to lighten your mood. It wasn’t really working. When he gathered as much, as you continued to gaze at him, he rubbed his hands up and down your arms, giving a deep nod. “Yep. ...yep. We gotta go. If what Jane said is right, we’re not even gonna make it on time. But I always liked being fashionably late.”

Good. Tony was on board. It eased a brief flash of a smile over your lips. “Should we get the team?”

“No time. You and me. Let’s go.”

It was your turn to nod. “You and me.”

---------

The sun wasn’t even up yet as the two of you took off from the balcony. A little after four thirty in the morning. Great time for a fly. You had LUNA route a course, locked to Tony, and wherever these gravitational anomalies were finally meeting at a head. Apparently Greenwich University in London. Seemed like a small place to start an invasion- if this was that- but then again, you only had the grandness of the Battle of New York to compare it with. Really… a smaller location was ideal. Because maybe that meant this wouldn’t be this bad.

You hoped to god that was right, because you hadn’t woken the other Avengers. Before you’d had a whole team ready to go. Relatively speaking. Now you were just going to beat some sense into Thor, for the most part. If this was a grave situation, surely he’d have allowed your help- Asgardian business or not, right? Before had technically been his business. It had been his brother. And yet he’d still allowed and even cheered on a team effort. But not here. So… not as bad, right?

That was really all you had to hold on to. Your only hope. Because if this was another big battle ahead of you… you weren’t sure you were ready yet. You were so tired. You were always so tired. There was just never any time between one incident and the next.

“Anniversary’s coming up, you know.” Tony’s voice shook you from your dizzying thoughts, and your eyes focused in on the image of him on the left side box on your display.

“Thinking about that at a time like this?” Despite the rather odd timing, you couldn’t help a smile.

“Four years. Edible Arrangements has been trying to sponsor our anniversary for a couple of months. Should I give in?”

“Edible- ...what?”

“It’s the basket full of food- usually fruit nobody likes and-”

“I know what it is. I’m asking why.”

“Fruit and flowers are the traditional gift for the fourth one. And you can’t imagine how many florists are trying to get free press. Basically every shop in the city.”

JARVIS blared an alert on the exact opposite side of your display, alerting you to the fact that an alien ship had entered the atmosphere. And would be touching down in approximately five minutes. You were nowhere near close. “Little early to be making plans. Considering. But… let’s go away.”

“Anywhere you want. Pending current survival status. Which, to be fair, I’m calculating as pretty high.”

Your smile was a touch more bittersweet as you looked at the picture of him on your screen. “I trust your math.”

“You should. It’s always right.”

---------

Fashionably late was a term stretched a little too far by the time the two of you made it to the epicenter of all the goings-on. There had been flux after flux, reading after reading- things you didn’t understand. So much so that you had to silence some of the data on your display. It was really only for Tony, he was tracking that stuff, making sense of it. Knew what to do with it. He’d only shared it with you because he didn’t want you to be out of the loop. But to be honest… looking at it made you more confused. Better off without it.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, as even miles out, you could see the impossibly large, big black T shaped ship looming. It had wedged itself at some nexus point in Greenwich, that much you’d been told and understood. The rest of it…? This Malekith was like the rest of them. After some sort of power and blood. Why couldn’t life just… not be full of people like that?

But just as the two of you broke the airspace around the campus, it seemed too little too late. The ship was going down- and as you both made a sharp bend around a building, you saw it was going down right on top of Jane- who was covering a very unconscious Thor.

“I’m up top, you get the base!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Splitting up to span the length of the ship, both of you curbing its trajectory of fall with your hands out. It was incredibly heavy. So much so that even with the power and help of the suit, the boost of all your jets, you were struggling intensely. “We’ve got no good place to put it!” Even if the thought was to bring it to the ground, there were buildings and people everywhere. No good spot to just place it without putting it on top of a bunch of property.

“You wanna put it back in space??” There was a plan. You could take off and hope you had enough force and fuel to just push it back where it came from.

“Any other options?”

“Excuse me!!!!!” There was a voice beneath you. One you were acquainted with, but not familiarly so. Amidst your dual struggles to keep the ship from collapsing to earth, you and Tony both looked towards the ground. LUNA centered in on the man yelling on you, zooming in enough for you to see. Dr. Selvig. You remembered him from his SHIELD files. The man Loki had captured some months ago. “TEAM IRON! Let the ship go!!!”

“Are you crazy?!” Your nerves were perhaps a little too frayed for this. You needed sleep.

He raised some sort of device over his head, shaking it at you. “I’m going to put her back where she belongs!!”

Something must have clicked, just as the ship pressed down on the both of you a little harder, Tony suddenly looked very panicked. He abandoned his post, sending you further down as your suit started warning you about the physical constraints- and you felt just about all of your muscles about to snap. “Honey- let go!”

Before you could even think about doing so, he swooped up underneath you, only about fifty feet from the ground- from getting crushed, grabbing you in his arms and flying away. You were helpless in that moment, clinging to him. “What’s going on!? Tony, what about them?!”

The answer happened right in front of you. The ship came to a quick crash. But not on top of Thor and Jane. Safely out of the net of danger, Tony stopped to a hover, still holding you in his arms. The both of you watched the ship get swallowed up by- ...well. Nothingness. It fell into some sort of hole right atop Thor and Jane and disappeared completely. Almost like it had just blipped from existence.

“What- what was that??” Finding yourself slightly breathless. Because the implication here was…

“Well. If my math is right-” And it always was-”...we almost just got pushed onto another planet.”

It was really just all too much. Too much to even think about putting into words. So instead… “Maybe Thor really did have a handle on this.” Looking down, zooming in on the picture of him now sitting up, and Jane hugging him tightly.

But as a military jet flew overhead, and the both of you looked up, Tony rolled his eyes. “We’re basically paper pushers at this point.”

“Janitorial staff, more like it.”

Because England’s military was here. There were police coming on to the scene. That meant there was clean up to do. And, as Tony brought the both of you back to earth, meeting a growing crowd of armed forces, he raised a hand, his helmet sliding back. “Hey. Avengers business. Don’t mind us.”

So you zipped your line of sight up across your screen, setting the command to deactivate your helmet, next. “As the head of the Department of Damage Control, Stark Industries is now declaring this a clean up site. Please stand back.”

A strong hand clapped over your shoulder and you half turned to see Thor standing behind you. A little beaten up, but smiling. “Lady, Stark. Good to see you. I told you I had this handled.”

Tony made a face at him. “Oh great. You wanna handle the authorities? Because I was kind of in the middle of something back in New York.”

At this, Thor’s smile dropped and he gave Tony a couple of slow pats on the back. “I think I shall… leave these matters to you.”

You weren’t exactly smiling at Thor, but not quite a frown either. “It’s good to see you too, Thor. And when you get a minute, we need you back at the Tower. We’ll handle this for you- only if you promise you’re not about to disappear.”

Jane scoffed. “Hey, he has to promise me that first.”

Thor’s lips were pulled thin in a grimace. “About that…”

You let the two of them go. And while you and Tony were busy with the authorities and foreign governments, Thor did disappear again. Asgardian business you supposed...

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter Ninety Three

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buri-art · 5 years

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If you don't mind me asking, how come you're able to live and work in Japan (and China?)? Where did it al begin? I'm just really curious! Thanks!

I don’t mind, thanks for asking! Turns out I’ve been doing some advising on this topic lately. (Scroll to the bottom for specific advice!)It all began with Digimon…

I’ve always had a history of moving from one obsession to another, starting back with Barney the Dinosaur. Then when I was 11-years-old I found myself very curious about that weird Japanese show on Fox Kids, which looked so different from the Western cartoons I was so fond of. What I caught of it kept me surprised–my stereotypes about it were wrong, the characters and their situations were complicated, and plot had depth? What was this and why did it make me care so much??Well, once I decided I was hooked, I was hooked. Obsessed overnight. I needed to know everything there was to know about it, including the country it came from. Guess I better learn Japanese, I thought.

That thought didn’t go away. I generally got obsessed with anime and Japanese culture, anything I could get my weeby little hands on. Wanting to know everything about Japan led to curiosity about China too, because if you’re going to stretch far back in the origins of Japanese culture, eventually you’re going to get interested in the big collection of nations and time periods known as Ancient China. (Stuff like Fushigi Yuugi and the anime rendition of Condor Hero sure helped drive that interest.)I stayed obsessed with Japan all through my teen years (and started Japanese study in earnest when I was 16) and I chose a college where I could start studying Chinese. It seemed like the natural progression in my studies by that point, but I guess other people thought it was surprising. Or they called me a traitor. (I can tell you now that lots and lots of people wind up studying both.)

Anyway, I went in to college with a pretty wide knowledge of East Asia, but studying it from all sorts of angles, getting good advising in school from nerdy professors, and studying abroad certainly made my understanding more nuanced. Going to a small school where it was easy to stick out also helped me get a good handful of work-study experiences and special attention for my particular passions. (It helps that a couple teachers were enamored with traditional Chinese culture, another loved Heian aesthetics, another wrote a dissertation about the production of shoujo manga, and another loved to give students free food. Now those are my people.)What most people find surprising was that even though I had a heavier course load in Asian studies, my major was Economics. I was concerned about finding work with only nerdy Asian studies, and I felt like I needed to save the world by working at an NGO and sacrificing my personal happiness for the sake of the poor and underprivileged. (I still feel like that, but thankfully there are more ways to support NGOs than only by working in them.) In my research topics I usually had a special focus on developing nations in Asia, and I made sure to get a good understanding of the whole region, not just, like, Edo period gay samurai fanfiction (yeah, that was totally a thing).Well, anyway, I never worked at an NGO. I went to grad school to keep working on my Chinese while keeping up independent Japanese study (including the JLPT), then I worked for the one international company in my hometown doing stuff for their Asian side of business. It was cool if you had any interest in engineering, but I didn’t. I like culture. The weeb shit, as it’s known. All according to keikaku, I became a Coordinator for International Relations on the JET Program (it’s not all English teachers!), and had the time of my life in Matsue (my love for that place is seeeeerious). That’s when I took my wide knowledge of Japan and started getting deeper knowledge, by doing anything and everything, especially practicing naginata, tea ceremony, and competitive kimono dressing. (I like to say I broke the weeb scale a long time ago.) Even among CIRs, who all speak Japanese fairly fluently, I guess I was noteworthy for my nerdy knowledge of obscure pieces of local culture, and my enthusiasm for sharing it. That’s just me being my obsessive self, folks. But yeah, lots of JET Program participants are obsessive and eager to go out and experience things. Aaaahhh, my people. After that, I felt I needed more experience in China, so I got a teaching job (which is relatively easy to do, if you’re a native English speaker). Due to my work schedule and living in Shanghai as opposed to like, Wuyishan or even Hangzhou, I didn’t devote as much as to cultural classes as I originally planned on, but I did practice tea and martial arts throughout my time there, and I continued to work on my Mandarin and gaining obscure cultural knowledge, but especially gaining experience melding with society there. Although it was more overwhelming, I do feel much more competent with my Chinese skills now, and I still love a lot of the culture and have so much more traveling I want to do there. I can still nerd out so hard for so much there.Moving back to Japan felt like a very natural course of things. I know a lot of people who have been happy to be Japan-nerds from a distance, or do the JET Program for a while and then just go back to visit, but at least for now, I don’t see myself happy with only visiting. I have personality flaws, like being very inflexible, that make me work very well in a rigid society like Japan. I’m too used to good convenience stores to live happily without them. I enjoy speaking Japanese all the time instead of taking occasional opportunities. Also, my niche skill set is kind of useless in my part of the US. I did try to find work here, really. That being said, having niche skills means that when I’m useful, I’m super useful. Job searching from outside of Japan was a lot more challenging than applying for the JET Program (which any JET applicant can tell you is not a simple process, but once you’re in, you really appreciate how much they handle for you in matters of moving abroad). It was really, really nerve-wracking to turn down two very good corporate job offers in favor of a somewhat new hotel chain. I really wanted to enter the tourism industry because this feels like the only place (outside of academia) where I can use all my obsessive studies of mainstream and obscure but especially traditional culture, and where my gushing about how much I love stuff is actually useful. Plus, it’ll make use of all three of my languages, not just one or two at a time. I hope this will work out for at least the next few years, if not forever. I also hope that if I live in the US in the future to be closer to family*, then I’ll have enough industry experience to work in hotels here or start a tour company targeted at Asian clients. (*Family is the primary reason I still consider long-term life in America, and it’s a big one, and worrying about them is the hardest part about living abroad. Excessive humidity in a lot of Asia is another reason I might choose to live in the Western US.)But like, now my hobbies are my job. While it won’t be the bulk of it, wearing kimono and performing tea ceremonies is no longer something that makes me cool and special and unexpectedly useful, it’s going to be what I need to be professionally competent in (eeeeeeep). This is the kind of stuff that obsessive teenage Buri would have swooned to know, but also totally expected. Career-Buri is a little more level-headed about it and also very grateful to have these opportunities. So anyway, advice!!—If you think you want to do anything in China or Japan, START STUDYING THE LANGUAGES NOW. Yes, I know they’re difficult. No, there’s no perfect program. Whatever you’re going to use, just do it consistently. Fluency is not actually required for a lot of jobs, but hot damn, some language skills will help. (For reference, I passed N1 of the JLPT before starting JET, and passed HSK5 while I was in grad school. I studied for HSK6 while I was in China and would have had a 50/50 chance of passing, but chose not to because it’s not actually that useful for the price I’d pay for it.)–To get a work visa in either country, 99 times out of a 100, you’re going to need a Bachelor’s degree. Your major is not usually as important as simple proof of graduation. Many places will care about your grades, though, so try to keep them up. –Teaching is still the easiest way to get there. There’s a wealth of programs to recruit you, but I suggest trying to steer clear of places that only provide a stipend instead of a salary, or small dispatch companies with questionable reputations. The JET Program is probably the best way to teach in Japan because of the level of support you get, but I’ve known people who had good experiences on the larger dispatch companies like Altia or Interac as well. For more direct hires, there are English tutoring companies (like English First (EF) or Coco Juku) where you might have students of all ages, as well as companies that focus on very small children (where you’ll basically be a glorified preschool teacher). On that note, many kindergartens and other for-profit education companies (like what I did in China) will hire directly, but your experience can vary widely. Finally, you can also look into international schools, but your teaching credentials will be much more important. Any background in teaching, or TESOL certification, will be a boon to your application (and at some places, your paycheck). –All of these places will want to see that you are a dependable, flexible person. Getting experience abroad, being able to speak frankly about challenges you’ve dealt with, and showing a willingness to go anywhere and do whatever is needed will look really good on your interviews. I say this a JET Program interviewer; the people who displayed the most patience and maturity were the people we felt best about giving a high score to. Those are the people we like to send out into the communities. –As we like to say in the JET Program, every situation is different (ESID for short). That applies to every teaching situation you might yourself in abroad.–You don’t have to be a teacher (after all, I only did JET because of the CIR position, I loved it!!). But you’re going to have to be really competent in whatever else it is you’re doing. Headhunters, such as at Pasona Global (which has branches in many Asian countries), are really, really good to work with, but they are most likely to hook you up with corporate jobs in big cities. If that’s what you want, awesome. (I wound up finding my hotel through a Japanese job searching site specifically for tourism related work. Other industry-specific fields may have their own job hunting sites, possibly in English, possibly not.) Language competency will be a lot more important if you take this route. –If at all possible, STUDY ABROAD!!! Many people will get the experience they want doing this instead of dealing with the frustrations of working and residing abroad. It’s a good way to see how much you love it and decide if the frustrations are worth it. Plus, it really helps your job applications. –Even if you can’t work abroad due to your personal situation, PLEASE TRY TO TRAVEL THERE!!!! When you’re interested in another culture or a foreign language, it means so, sooooo much to be there, even if it’s temporary. I don’t just say this as someone who has chosen tourism as my calling (though I am more than happy to give travel advice), I say this as a passionate nerd. I feel you. I get you. You need this. –Back to studies and stuff though, if you’re going to major in some form of area studies or foreign language, it is difficult to get jobs with that alone. Consider double-majoring in something that will play into that, or which will open other career options. Money is kind of important, especially if you’re going to have to pay for flights across the Pacific.

–That being said, study what you care about too. You know how oddly useful my elective class about Non-Western Theater has been!?!? And if something in anime catches your attention, for goodness sake, you’re on THE INTERNET. If you liked Jubei-chan, go study samurai, if you like Fruits Basket, go learn to make onigiri, if you like Mob Psycho 100, then go—well—um—go work out, being physically healthy is also important!!

Well, anyway, that’s long enough. Good luck to all you nerds out there!! KEN TANAKA LOVES YOU and all that good stuff!!

#wow this got long #tl:dr #I'm a nerd and that might help you too

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zenosanalytic · 7 years

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Discovery: Lethe II

Ok so, first off, I just want to say that this was Everything I ever wanted Trek to be :|

Intimate, ambiguous, detailed examinations of non-human cultures

POLITICS >:] >:] >:]

diplomacy as heroic and dangerous

A Starfleet and Fed where Feelings and mental health are just as important and valued as strategic or tactical concerns.

relationships and The Personal tied directly to principles, institutions, and larger events

exploring relationships, personalities, ethics, and what it means to be alive in the World through symbolic, fantastical situations

positive, life-affirming, sympathetic, casual sex portrayed without objectification or exploitation

tortuously sympathetic villains

damaged people behaving badly and portrayed with nuance and sympathy

Trauma affecting people, affecting the World through people, and people dealing with Trauma in various ways with various levels of success and healthiness

AMANDA!

Sarek being a bad Dad

Sarek being locked in a glass-case of Emotion

People being called out on their Shit

Science officers being all “Fuck it; let’s get Weird!”

Concise, confident, tight sci-fi writing. For example: the basic idea of the mind-meld-machine is established clearly and crisply, and doesn’t degenerate into technobabble, or rely on magic disguised as tech(quantum! nano! tachyons! etc, etc). Everything clinks together, everything runs smoothly, nothing snags, contradicts, or confuses

This ep really impressed me with how incredibly savvy the crew making this show is, and how much they think about how the fanbase will potentially be reacting when they see the eps. There were moments in previous eps like this, but Lethe is repeatedly fan-conscious, and without ever endangering the 4th wall. The “Disco” sweats can be explained -it’d be easy for NBC to promote “Disco” as the preferred nick in the fandom without seeming to- but the writing for Ash in this ep, and how it interacts with the theory that he’s Voq, is just so obviously aware that people would suspect this.

The rest of this got kinda long, so I’m putting it under the cut.

Catching Ash

When Lorcas says “you fight like a Klingon”, Ash responds not by joking or treating it as a compliment(which you might expect given his ingratiating lie about his kill count), but by trying to explain it away and apologize for it, like he was worried by the comment, and in a way -“Klingon guards beating on me for 7 months, I was bound to pick something up”- that emphasizes his awareness and toughness; calculated to appeal to the sort of person Lorca has shown Ash he is. The things he says to Burnham about loss and death; the potential irony of having him, twice in the episode, emphasize and explain humanness; the way his concern for Burnham conveniently ingratiates him to Lorca(by following his orders over the mission) and builds an emotional bond with someone Lorca obvsl considers an asset; all of these have both innocuous and foreboding interpretations. There are even these little subtle touches to his performance that aren’t entirely out of the realm for a human, but oddly Klingon-aggressive: how he hits the table to emphasize the here-and-now when talking to a stranger; his sarcastic dismissiveness towards Tilly and Burnham’s discussion of her emotions. And then there’s his speech about death, failure, and loss to Burnham, something that could have easily come out of the mouth of a Voq trained to act like a human.

Even the title of the episode can be read as playing into this. Titles so far have been thematic; sometimes even used in the episode themselves. Lethe, of course, is the River of Forgetfulness in Greek Myth, on the shores of which the Dead leave the memories of their former life. But who is “Crossing the Lethe” here? Who is doing the forgetting; who is putting their past life behind them? The ep is about Sarek and Michael’s memories and bond, not the denial or loss of them. The final scene in sickbay establishes that Sarek has not forgotten the Meld which saved him in the nebula anymore than the past which binds him to Michael; he lies to avoid the shame of his betrayal, of facing the harm he’d done to Michael(a person he loves), and all the emotions that act and knowledge dredges up in him(not a terribly Vulcan way to behave, lying to avoid consequences).

The point of Michael’s role in all of this is that she hasn’t forgotten any of it. Nor has Lorca forgotten or placed anything behind; his inability to forget and refusal to heal is the engine of his subplot, of his trauma, and of his villainy, in the ep and in the series as a whole. Lorca’s attachment to the Pain he has Chosen drives him to manipulate a friend, to abandon her to torture and degradation, to push, manipulate, and oppress his crew, and to sleep with a phaser under his pillow at night.

But, if Ash is Voq, all this talk about his humanity and about what is is to be human, is a rejection of his Klingonness; a kind of forgetting. It is the final step in a deliberate, decisive setting aside of his past life for the sake of his mission to save and unify the Klingons under T’Kumva’s philosophy. And there’s another aspect to Lethe, too, which could potentially play into this; lethe also means “concealment”, and is the negated element within the Greek word for truth, alethia(lit. “unconcealment, unoblivion, unforgetfulness”). Lorca and Sarek are both concealing and dishonest in this episode but, if Ash is Voq the Torchbearer, it would also apply to him as well. It’s a very nice meta-element to the ep, a kind of non-subplot-subplot, and their deliberate cultivation of it shows an awareness of and desire to engage with the fandom which I appreciate.

Ok, so WOW; that’s a lot of text!, but I’m not done yet.

Our Faces, Our Selves

This ep had some truly great Tilly moments. The gesture she does when she says “personality” was Endearing and characterizing as Hell. Whether it was written in or if Wiseman added it herself, it’s a wonderful example of the non-aggressive physicality her performance has displayed so far. Also -though technically a Burnham moment as well- the contrast between her natural stride and the precise form Michael runs in was both Fun and Great. “Computer, green Juice, extra Green”; Perfect u_u “*whispered* computeraddsalsa... Ohmygod you are so scary!” Magnificent u_u u_u “Oh Kaaay >:|... He actually is, though.” Majestic u_u u_u u_u

The intent to make Cadet Tilly the “Emotional Heart” of the show is extremely obvious, but it actually works because of just how well executed in basically every respect(even something as small as allowing her face to be blotchy and blemished invites audience attachment) it is. And because her personality is basically that of a puppy-dog, and puppies aren’t terribly subtle either, the obvs intent doesn’t grind up against her characterization, or Wiseman’s performance. Her humor is effortless, natural, youthful, and casually disarming. The interlocking web of support between her and Burnham -Burnham teaching her the discipline of excellence and pushing her to pursue it; Tilly engaging her emotionally, sometimes even pushing, without being disrespectful- is convincing, earned through time and interaction, and endearing. That she is simultaneously in awe and protective of Burnham, yet cognizant enough of her weaknesses, and at ease/trusted enough with her, to prompt socialization when she balks out of anxiety, awkwardness, and shame, is entirely believable. And her FACE! The ways Wiseman uses her face, the subtle little things she does, in this episode are just... So Wonderful. I kinda feel like going back over the previous eps just to see if I missed similar work in them.

Frain’s face work as Sarek in this ep is equally impressive. We see more of it in the third contact, but for some reason it’s the stuff in the second contact that stood out most to me. At that point it hasn’t yet been made explicit that Burnham has an incomplete understanding of the event and Sarek’s reactions to it but here -in the minor hesitation and stony, unnatural setting of his jaw and torso as he too slowly turns away from the director; his blinking look and respectful nod to Michael; the blink-and-you-miss-it shaking of his jaw and lips; his emotion-controlling intake of breath before he breaks the bad news; his gulp and the tension in his eyes as he looks at Amanda, the pleading tone as he offers his dishonest explanation; the sorrow on his face and shameful lowering of his head as Burnham asks to leave- we see the first signs that things aren’t as they appear.

And then the third contact. In the initial struggle with Burnham his eyes are particularly important, though the angle obscures them somewhat so this is mostly done through blinking. When she asks “is it worth dying over” there is a flash of stubbornness -he opens his eyes wider, raises his head to look at her straight- followed immediately by a lowering blink and assessing rove of his eyes over her face. As she says “let me in” he blinks and looks down, considering. As he says “I never lost faith in you” he rapidly blinks two or three times, then squints. Finally there’s this little tongue-flick he does on “I will show you”, a mannerism usually associated with consideration or nervousness, that just really stood out and sold his discomfort to me.

Then his talk with the director! When Frain says “Acceptance with honors is her due” there is this wonderful chain of expressions, starting with a raise of the eyes and forehead on “Acceptance” and ending with a slight clench and drawing back, then jutting of the jaw on “due” that just screams pride, assurance, and arrogance. Sarek knew that, by the logical terms of Vulcan society, Burnham had more than earned her place. Then the blinking drawing back of his head at encountering the Director’s racism; his contained, hidden affront at not just the personal insult to his child, and thus to himself, but at the illogic of the Director’s bigotry, yet obviously too common and accepted to challenge publicly if he can voice it so openly to someone of such high social rank. So Sarek dodges the subject; moves it back away from race and the personal onto ideological grounds, hoping to turn the situation around by trapping the Director in the essential contradictions of his position while subtly seeking to defuse his anti-human bias by dehumanizing Burnham via discussing her as a work rather than a person. His face conveys this too; he turns and dips very slightly it to the left, looking partially side-eyed and from under his brow at the Director, conveying cleverness but also a self-satisfaction, as if he’s looking both at the Director, and above him at his vision of wedding Human and Vulcan cultures. The Director out-maneuvers him by turning his argument around; bringing Spock into the discussion. At “Twice” Frain snaps his head up, as if struck. Questioning Spock’s relevance his head shakes, his eyes tighten. At “Non-Vulcan” Frain gives an almost relieved negation, shaking his head, closing his eyes with brows angled down, saying “Spock is” only to be cut off by “Half-Vulcan”. Then the deepest cut; the Director, smirking, goes on to call Spock “another one of your Experiments”, not only insulting him by dehumanizing his children, but also through sarcastic irony; the Director’s tone and face expresses a suspicion Sarek is emotionally attached to them, thus his statements are also mocking these “unVulcan” feelings Sarek might have for them. And then Frain’s wiggle of the lips and blank eyes at “not-quite-Vulcans” just... DAMN!

Ok that bit was... also very long, so I’ll stop there X| But, like I said, EXCELLENT face work, both enough to convey to the humans watching his feelings, and the sort of Vulcan disciplined suppression Trek fans would expect, and I was really impressed by it. But before moving on, I just want to point out a clear but subtle irony here. Green’s performance as Burnham is far more controlled in her reactions to witnessing this racism and anguished betrayal, keeping it mostly to her eyes, and the ever-present tension between her brows. The rest of Green/Burnham’s face remains disciplined and contained in a way Frain/Sarek’s does not, nor that of the Director. Basically, her self-possession out-Vulcans both of the Vulcans present, disproving the Director’s racist arguments. Just really excellent physicality in this ep, even on the smallest details.

Sympathy for the Devil

This was a really great ep for Lorca, too.

I feel like it’s pretty clear that Lorca’s the central villain of Discovery(as much as any one person is “The Villain” rather than nebulous concepts like “misunderstanding” and “arrogance” and “cultural chauvinism”), but he’s a very well and ambiguously written, sympathetic villain. That, inevitably, invites the audience to sympathize with him and forget that he’s the villain. With the Tardigrade set free and Spore-Drive Displacements no longer getting top-billing it’s been awhile since the audience has seen him directly harm other people. It’s been two weeks since we saw him goad his crew by playing the anguished, fearful, dying screams of human colonists over the com. And last week we saw him being friendly with SF Command, being captured, having his weaknesses taken advantage of to torture him, and seeming to think his way out of a terrible situation with insight and daring. We also saw him betrayed by Mudd, and learned his tragic backstory. All of this invites sympathy, and the forgetting of his past misdeeds.

And at first the ep reinforces that. We see him testing and extending his trust to Ash, showing concern for Burnham, risking his ship to both save a long-loved character(Sarek) and protect the protagonist, and finally reconnecting with an old friend through nostalgia and positive, respectful, mutual affection.

But under all of this -except re: Burnham and Sarek- there is a disturbing tremor. The angry, cold and calculating way he crushes that cookie; his private order to Ash; how quickly and masterfully he makes his meeting with Cornwall about their friendship, then escalates its intimacy, step by seducing step. And, just as inevitably, that tremor eventually explodes into a quake that shakes it all down. Rather symbolically(this series LOVES symbolism ^u^) it is Cornwall’s tracing of his scars which triggers his breakdown. In an instant his facade of control collapses, and Lorca goes from driven and in-control to a shaken man on the edge of breaking, sweat-sheened and begging not to lose his ship.

His trauma, in itself, only sympathizes him more of course, and how he deals with it -suppression and bluster when he can hide it, frantic deal-making and pleas when it is revealed- does so as well, to a point. Lorca is revealed once more as a manipulator, but he hasn’t yet harmed anyone. His renewed professions of concern and respect for Burnham sound like Sarek’s manipulations in reverse, but it takes the last scene -the camera panning to focus on his phaser after Lorca had abandoned Cornwall to the Klingons, paraphrasing her own words to justify it to Saru, the audience knowing that she was the only person who knew how far he had fallen and could remove him from command- to retroactively make them, and his scenes with Burnham at the start of the ep, Sinister. By casting aside an ally, friend, and lover the moment she became a threat to his power and ambition, the show reminds the audience of just how villainous and dangerous this tormented man truly is.

There’s a lot more to talk about here -I particularly think this was a very insightful episode about how this show conceives of Vulcan culture- but I think I’ll give the other issues their own posts.

#Star Trek #ST: Discovery #Lethe(Episode)#Lieutenant Ash Tyler #Sylvia Tilly #Sarek #Captain Gabriel Lorca #zA's Outside Viewing #zA's Trenchant Literary Criticism #TV Shows #Acting #ST: Disc Theories #ST: Disc Analysis #analytic posts

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beanmaster-pika · 7 years

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Petunias and Black Lilies

Title: Petunias and Black Lilies

Rating: T for some profanity

Characters: Xanxus, Aria

Genre: Friendship, general

Words: 5,314

Summary: Being the Donna of a largely matriarchal famiglia, Aria sometimes forgets that the rest of the world sees her as just that—a woman. But if they refuse to recognize her ability, she’ll help produce something they will recognize. (In a parallel universe, Xanxus makes the Vongola stronger without becoming the tenth boss or being frozen in ice first, mostly because of a certain someone’s meddling.)

The first time she meets him, she is twelve; the Giglio Nero is officially under the control of a steward until she comes of age (officially, mind—she’s feeling out her capacity in this world, her steward encouraging her here, cutting her off there, and providing her with endless records of mafia history to draw wisdom from), and he is the ten-year-old adopted feral of Don Vongola. The adults look down on him. The children are divided, some siding with their parents, others more cautious. Aria is of the latter.

She knows, when she meets him, that he is dangerous. Flames thrum and roar within him, untamed and wild, and his eyes are angry, proud, untrusting.

She immediately decides she loves him. She’s always been fascinated and enamoured by dangerous things: guns, knives, the men and women who will one day work beneath her; Xanxus is slightly different in that he is not hers, but not by much. She knows that when they grow up, he will either be a great asset or a terrifying enemy.

Therefore, Aria decides to get to know him and love him as a person. She prefers her lovely dangerous things as allies, thank you very much. Fortunately, Don Vongola makes things very simple for her.

“Hello, Aria,” he says kindly, kneeling down to speak with her at eye level. Being the holder of the Vongola Ring, he knows with unerring certainty that she will one day ascend to the head of the Giglio Nero and should be treated with caution. That does not, however, mean that he can’t try for an alliance. “This is Xanxus, my son.” The feral dodges the hand that moves to ruffle his hair, vestiges of a snarl at his lips. Oh, getting to know him will be so fun, Aria can already tell.

“Nice to meet you,” she says with a genuine smile, holding out a hand to shake. He eyes her suspiciously, but grudgingly takes the hand after a subtle nudge from his father.

Actually touching him, she can feel the strength of his Flames. They’re even more powerful than she thought, stronger than some grown men, and she doesn’t doubt that he’s strong enough for the Vongola ring. It really is a pity that his blood will disallow it. Nevertheless, he’ll definitely grow to hold a position of high power in the Vongola, bad blood or no, and if that doesn’t work out for him, maybe she’ll be able to entice him into the Giglio Nero. Goodness knows they need all the one person armies they can get. So she stands, regal as a queen despite her puerile appearance, and meets his eyes with dignity. There is something akin to recognition flickering through them at the treatment, and he in return gives her grudging respect, giving her hand a firm shake before releasing it.

“Nice to meet you.”

Don Vongola looks positively delighted by this development, probably because Xanxus doesn’t look like he wants to kill Aria anymore. “Well then! I suppose I’ll just leave you kids to it, then,” he beams. “An old man knows where he’s not wanted. Xanxus, accompany her, would you?” And before his son can even formulate a response, he sweeps off to speak with Don Cavallone, pleased as the cat that got the cream.

“We’re a bit young for matchmaking,” Aria comments when he’s gone, drilling straight to the heart of the matter. Xanxus stares at her, alarmed and dumbfounded.

“Matchmaking?” he blurts out. His innocence concerning politics is cute, in Aria’s opinion.

“Matchmaking,” she affirms seriously. But then she smiles, and bounces on her toes. “But never mind that. Like I said, we’re too young. What do you want to play?”

Xanxus looks like a deer in headlights. It really is adorable. “I… Whatever,” he mumbles, scuffing the ground with his shoes. Okay, so clearly not a team player. Maybe something of an introvert. Or, more probably, he’s trying to meld into his new higher station and has no idea. Tutors don’t teach this, Aria knows, and it’s a crying shame no one’s seen fit to take the initiative to help him out. Enrico, she knows, is busy building up a scathing rivalry, partly to toughen up the new kid for the famiglia, partly to protect his claim as heir; Massimo is bookish and probably hasn’t interacted with him much at all; and Federico, well, he’s at that time in his teenage years where he can’t be seen going around with a kid brother or it’ll be uncool. Maybe he’s a little bit sulky about having his spot as the youngest taken, too, but he’s a good egg, if a bit mischievous, so Aria thinks that they’ll be fine on that front. But for now, Xanxus is growing more awkward and reclusive by the second, so she needs to do something about it.

“Alright,” she says briskly, mind racing to what kind of games might be good. He’s a street kid, so he won’t mind any rough and tumble, but he also has to think of his standing in their society. He’s far behind the others due to his origins in the slums, so something a little more refined might be in order. Something to challenge him, too, with tactics and strategies and no small bit of finesse, yet still fun.

Oh, yes. She has the perfect game.

“Do you want to steal a cake?” she grins. He stares back, shocked once again. But. Well.

“You’re on,” he declares.

Aria, Xanxus is quickly realizing, is not an average girl. Oh, sure, she’s pretty enough and she giggles and titters, and she wears frilly dresses and nice shoes, but she’s got a life and mischief to her that he hasn’t seen in any of the vapid girls and young ladies he’s met while standing at the side of his father. Actually, she kind of reminds him of his stepmother, eyes going calculating as they focus on their target, mapping out ways to go about accomplishing the mission.

But that’s where she’s different, mainly. Forget niceties and politicking and underhanded social engineering, she’s ready for a fight.

Xanxus can see it. Quite clearly, in fact, and he’s surprised no one has called her out on it, not when the girls here are supposed to be pretty and giggle and wear nice, unsoiled clothes. Her hands are clenching and unclenching, her stance is loose and her muscles tensed, ready for action. There’s a fire in her eyes that Xanxus sees reflected when he stares into mirrors, but it’s different from his. Purer, somehow, he can tell; and bright and warm where his fire is darker. More angry. He doesn’t doubt that he’d win if they fought–she may be taller than him, but he can tell he’s stronger. And that’s the funny thing; she sees this, his angry fire and strength, and doesn’t shy away or hold him at arm’s length. Instead, she reaches out. Xanxus can count on his hands the number of people here who do that, and two don’t count because they’re his parents now. It’s interesting, to say the least, so he’s going to roll with it.

“That one,” he says, pointing at the large créme-colored one that Leonardo Apine is eyeing. It’s one of the biggest at the party. Aria’s lips quirk into a grin.

“Bigger is better, in this case,” she says approvingly, “but it’s also harder. Think we can do it?”

“Try me,” he growls, and he’s on the streets again, hungry, about to snatch something. He’d never gone for anything big, a roll or an apple from a negligent vendor, but no one’s paying attention here because apparently a lot of rich people are either insipid or trusting. Must be all the security guards. And besides, there aren’t any consequences here, maybe a cuff on the ear and a word of reprimand, but nothing else. No beatings. His father doesn’t like violence and Carlotta much prefers making people feel guilty, so what has he got to lose? “We’re going to have to deal with Leonardo first. He’s the only one who’s really going to focus on it. Then when my father makes his speech, we’ll get it.”

“It’s on the other side of the pavilion,” Aria recognizes, nodding, but then prods him to think harder. “But that’s a basic plan. What if something goes wrong?”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” he scowls. Her face falls, and for some reason, he feels like he’s failed. A trial, or a test, with the reward being the acceptance he’s been striving to get here, so he tries again. “If Leonardo doesn’t look away, one of us can throw pebbles at him from the bushes, and the other can go get it. He’s standing near it, so anyone else who would notice will be more focused on him because he’s a wimp and screams like a little baby.”

“And if someone accuses you of hurting him?” Aria counters bluntly. “They don’t really trust you yet, and I heard you broke his nose last week.”

Xanxus doesn’t miss a beat with the answer. “Well, that couldn’t be right. I was playing with you the whole time.”

Aria grins then, excited and approving, and he knows he’s passed. They rock-paper-scissors for who does what and then split up, Xanxus circling around into the orchard and Aria slipping into the crowd. Leonardo Apine goes ever closer to the cake, and Xanxus winds up his throwing arm, and then everything goes to hell.

“May I have your attention!” his father shouts. “Thank you all for attending!” There is a short bit of polite applause. “As you all know, my youngest son recently came to live here–not Federico, I assure you. He’s still off at boarding school, don’t worry.” Polite laughter. “No, this is different. When we found him, we were astounded.” Xanxus is cursing under his breath now, hunting down Aria in the crowd. She’s biting her lip, worried, and they have no way to communicate so he has to improvise. Taking careful aim, he tosses one of his pebbles. It hits her leg, grabbing her attention. He throws another one, and it skitters against the pavement, giving her his location. She looks over, and he meets her eyes, tense. “He has the Flame of Wrath that was seen only before in Vongola Secondo, and that was how we knew. He’s very young, but we know he’ll be powerful, so please welcome him! Xanxus, would you come up here?”

Aria deliberates for hardly half a second before mouthing ‘go.’

He feels like he’s failed again, but this time… this time, he’s failed himself.

Aria meets back up with Xanxus after Don Vongola finishes introducing his new son. It’s a pity that they couldn’t nab the cake, but that’s alright. They’re only children. They can learn from this, and grow, and besides, Aria already has a contingency plan prepared, though Xanxus doesn’t know it. Plus, no one’s died. This is a children’s game, after all. It’s alright.

Xanxus doesn’t seem to think so, though. He looks angry and frustrated, teeth gritted and fists clenched as he walks over, and now Aria’s worried because again, it’s a game.

(Granted, so is Monopoly, but that’s another story she really doesn’t want to get into right now.)

“What’s wrong?” she asks immediately, catching his hands in hers and sending pulses of her Flames through them. She’s nowhere near the effectiveness of a Rain, but the atmosphere is languid and relaxed, and she’s keeping herself calm, so maybe the Sky’s harmony will work. But his Flames fight back, they don’t want to be tamed, and Aria is forced along for the ride and finds herself facing a tidal wave of self-loathing. Um. Wow.

“We didn’t get it,” he hisses, still furious, and now Aria knows it’s at himself. “I didn’t factor in the old man. And now we’ve lost our chance.” He looks on the very verge of berating himself, too; Aria recognizes the signs from one anxious Sun in her famiglia, and this is all wrong, so her hands move from his hands to his face and slap his cheeks lightly.

“Hey,” she says, slightly reprimanding, fixing him with a stern glare. “It’s okay. This isn’t a raid on an enemy family, and we aren’t grown-ups. It’s okay to mess up. This is a game, you know? A game.” He doesn’t look at all assured, but he does look very confused, and he opens his mouth again to speak but she squishes his cheeks and cuts him off. “Besides, this is a… a whatchamacallit… a learning experience. It’s harder for us to move around because we’re important, right? And there are people who know we are. We’re constricted because of our place in society.” A different kind of constriction than his previous place, she doesn’t say, but it looks like it’s dawning on him and he’s listening now, and putting together the puzzle. She’s trying to teach him, he knows now, she can see it in the way his eyes are no longer defensive, but still slightly hostile, and curious. Good, so he’s a quick study. This will make assimilating him into society much faster.

“You’re like Carlotta,” he notes, and she’s caught off guard partially because she wasn’t expecting him to say anything, partially because it takes her a beat to recognize that Carlotta is the name of Don Vongola’s wife. So Xanxus doesn’t call her mother, but also doesn’t call her an ‘old lady.’ Interesting. “You’re making me fit in. In a real sneaky, underhanded way.”

“I guess,” Aria allows. He’s not exactly wrong. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Xanxus stares at her for a moment before saying, “The old man is always talking about how it’s important to make allies.”

And just like that, they’re friends.

They both get terrible stomachaches for devouring all of the cake after that, but Aria pesters her steward to allow her to visit the Vongola more often. Xanxus studies hard and trains harder, scowling the whole way as he pushes for becoming the ninth’s successor. He learns how to shoot a gun before she does (she never quite forgives him for that and hits the training ranges as often as she can once she’s able, but she just can’t seem to surpass him. He’s got a skill with the gun that she can’t hope to match, but she can damn well be better than a great many others) and earns his stripes after protecting the ninth from a drive-by shooting. Aria’s steward is horrified by how disappointed she is that she wasn’t there, but there’s not much he can do about it except repeatedly tell her to look after her health and welfare once she becomes the boss. It happens on her seventeenth birthday, and she and Xanxus drink like fishes in celebration. The hangovers are killer, but Aria thinks it’s worth it, because once Xanxus has been drunk under the table he apparently turns into a giggly drunk, and that’s something that she’ll treasure forever, especially since she knows that it’s not likely to happen again.

There is one thing that worries her, though.

“I’ll catch up with you soon,” he’d murmured when he was still a brooding drunk, slurring slightly. “Just you wait. I’ll be the tenth boss, and I’ll make Vongola a hundred times better than it’s ever been–and a thousand times better than the Giglio Nero.”

She knows it won’t happen. She knows it’s physically impossible for him to inherit the Ring. But that night in the bar, she’d felt sentimental, and instead of chuckling and ribbing him like she does whenever else they breach the subject of his legitimacy as heir, she leaned over, ruffled his hair, and smiled. “I’ll take you up on that challenge.” And that was that.

“No,” Aria says again, warding off Leonardo Apine’s advances, “I really can’t.”

“Just one drink,” he insists, smiling gleefully at her obvious discomfort. “After all, you’re a boss, aren’t you? It should be fine. Just a little drink between a couple of mafiosi, it’ll be fine.” He does so enjoy mocking her.

She bites back a sigh and stamps down on the urge to blow her hair out of her eyes where some of it has fallen out of her chignon. “No, I really can’t. I have a prior arrangement,” she explains.

“Well, surely they can come, too!” he crows, the delight in his eyes taking on a fever pitch, believing himself to be calling her bluff. Fool. She almost pities him.

“Is that so?” a voice rumbles, and the prior arrangement makes himself known as muscle and anger and fire.

Leonardo pales, immediately backtracking in his words as he attempts to scramble away. “X-Xanxus!” he sputters, glancing back and forth between the other and Aria and connecting the dots. Once he’s done that, he finds his options depressingly bleak. “S-So sorry! Didn’t know she was yours.” Shaking, he bows his head slightly and bids goodbye before getting the hell out of there.

“Mine?” Xanxus echoes when he’s gone, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yours,” Aria shrugs. “He assumes.” She snorts. “It’s like he can’t believe that I’m a genuine boss with independent thought and ability.” They share a grim chuckle at that, knowing that it’s exactly what the moron thinks. They’re traditional mafia, after all, and women… Well, women don’t have much place here except in the home. The Giglio Nero, though ancient, are small and unassuming, most of the donnas having husbands to parade to the outer world as the boss, and few realize exactly how much they do, and they like to keep it that way, but Aria, well. Aria doesn’t. Neither did her mother, for that matter, but then, her mother had never ordered any raids. In that, Aria’s different.

For now, though, she will put the cynical musing aside; there’s a bar to visit and a friend to catch up with, and she’s got the funniest story about Gamma to share with him and maybe some earth shattering news to deliver if they get drunk enough. They leave with no haste, but little leisure, and catch a cab to take them to the bar. The driver takes them for a couple. Aria doesn’t blame him. Xanxus is quick to correct him with a complementary angry growl, which is always amusing to no end, but it’s… subdued, a little bit. Less bite, more bark, and considering the fact that Xanxus is almost all bite, that’s worrying.

She doesn’t mention it. She has the worst feeling the reason is going to come out tonight and she’s milking the peace for all it’s worth.

During the drive, she takes off her heels and begins massaging her aching feet with a hint of Sky Flames, heaving a relieved sigh as she does so. Xanxus raises an eyebrow.

“Thought women don’t suffer in heels,” he notes.

“You clearly need to speak with Zia Carlotta more,” she snorts. “She won’t be as obvious about it as I am, but damn these things are like death traps.”

“Can’t imagine walking in them.”

“Yeah? Try fighting in them.”

They carry on like that, arguing and teasing, and Aria is struck by the thought that she’s really grateful for nights like these where she can treat Xanxus like she treats her men instead of the heir to another famiglia; his shoulders are less tense, and he looks like he might actually be enjoying himself somewhat, just. Talking. And laughing. With someone near to his own age, someone he can see as equal without compromising his strict, fanatical belief in his rights as Don Vongola’s heir, an actual friend of sorts whom he can relax around.

(She’s heard rumors about that young swordsman, naturally. Of course she has. But she’s known Xanxus since he joined the Vongola, and he’s only known him for a month, tops, and the difference should be obvious.)

The fact that she’s feeling this nostalgia and sentimentality now is even more worrying. It’s almost as if she’s wallowing in something that will never happen again.

They reach the bar without incident and immediately head to the counter. Xanxus is a regular, it seems, and drops her a recommendation before ordering his own drink. He’s got better taste in alcohol than she does, so she follows the recommendation and charms the barkeeper with a smile.

“It’s really freaky how you do that,” Xanxus mutters, sipping his drink. Aria laughs a little, her lips on the rim of her cup but not drinking yet.

“A woman has to use what she can in a world ruled by men,” she chides. He grunts an approximation of an agreement, and they chat for a while. No horrible truths are revealed, he laughs at the Gamma story, and they depart without incident. It’s enough to make an already paranoid girl nervous.

Her worry, as it turns out, is not unwarranted. Xanxus has decided on walking back, and she follows. He drops the bomb then.

“I’m not the Ninth’s real son.”

His voice is steady, but Aria can hear waves of anger within it, cascading and roaring with what she’s sure are betrayal and disbelief. She’s also having a spot of trouble on the disbelief front–she’d never expected that he’d just… tell her this. Xanxus is a proud man, as he should be, given that he was raised Vongola, and this admission of horrid truth is uncharacteristic of him, and tells Aria with startling clarity exactly how much trust he places in her. She purses her lips in a thin line and stares at his back. He turns, then, to look at her, and takes in the calmness of her demeanor despite the fact that the rational response would be at least some level of shock, and then he states flatly, “You knew.”

“You don’t seem surprised by that,” she responds, tone carefully neutral. The fury in his eyes is contained for now, and she’s earned some degree of tolerance as his childhood friend, but she knows she must tread carefully–no one has ever tamed the feral; he’s merely gotten trickier, wiser to their ways and exercising more self control. That’s what’s making him more dangerous now; he doesn’t just have his Wrath, he’s got brains to go with it and can’t be dealt with so easily by making confrontations a battle of wits. He barks out a short, humorless laugh. Almost miserable, she’d say, if she didn’t know him better.

“Thought you might,” he says. “You’re Giglio Nero. You’ve got all that shaman seer shit going on, right? Must’ve been a no brainer. Did you find it funny? Helping me better my chances at becoming the tenth boss even though you knew it wouldn’t ever happen?” His voice is rising, and with it, his rage, his self control slipping; Aria knows she needs to do something quickly but is cut off. “You knew all along, didn’t you? So why didn’t you tell me? Friends–hah!” He spits at the ground near her feet, and she grits her teeth. If she were Don Vongola, she would be trying to deal with this with placating words and contradicting force. However, she’s not Don Vongola, she’s the Donna Giglio Nero, and Xanxus’s childhood friend, and she knows that the best choice here is to fight fire with fire–placating comes later.

She takes a step forward. “We are friends,” she snaps, matching his anger with her own force. He looks angrier, but no more unreasonable, which is a good sign. Also slightly satisfying, because she practically wrote the book on dealing with Xanxus and is glad that it’s coming in handy here. “And next don or not, you’re still Vongola. Family isn’t totally by blood. And the Vongola are a pillar in our world, and they need to be strong, so by God I was going to help. The Giglio Nero isn’t up for power grabs, not while I’m the boss; and you’re one of the strongest they have.” Xanxus looks like he’s going to try to argue, but since he’s such a mess of superiority and inferiority complexes, she doubts his arguments are going to make any sense and presses forward. “Xanxus, why do you want to lead the Vongola? Answer me that, at least.”

That makes his pause and think. Good. If she can facilitate his rationality, then he’s more likely to actually listen to sound advice. After a moment, he begins, in a hoarse, halting voice, “I want- I want to make it strong. We’re weak, under the old man’s rule. Too friendly with the weaklings and sycophants. Enrico, Massimo, Federico–they’d just continue on like him. We’d fall into ruin. And I don’t want that.” The fire in his eyes is controlled now, and even more fervent; he prizes the Vongola–or his idealized image of it–above all else, and that’s showing here. “But why do you need to know that?”

Aria draws herself up to her full height–still shorter than him, but no less powerful or august in bearing. “Because we’re friends,” she reminds him. “And I need to know your intentions before I can support you here.” Xanxus looks thrown off by this, like he hadn’t expected she’d offer assistance. She can understand why, she supposes; a fight for succession is more or less declaring civil war within the famiglia, but that doesn’t change the fact that garnering outside support could be plenty useful in such a campaign. The Giglio Nero have always had cordial and fairly intimate relations with the Vongola, and as such, her support could carry a heavy weight in the political side of the fight. Most of the Families in the Vongola’s official alliance are in it for the power anyway–the ‘weaklings and sycophants’ Xanxus had spoken of so contemptuously–and they’re more than likely to just go along with whichever heir happens to be strongest or most cunning.

Of course, that’s only if Xanxus refuses to back down, and if Aria knows him, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

He’s regarding her now, cautious. “I never said anything about needing support.” “You also never give up on your unhealthy obsessions,” she fires back. “You’re planning something.”

“And why should I tell you?” he counters. “You could be colluding with the old man, maybe you have been from the start-”

Yeah, she’s gonna cut him off right there, and she does with a sound slap. He looks startled by this, given that she rarely engages in fisticuffs with him or even fights in general, but that’s good. The shock leaves his mind open. “Xanxus,” she says, enunciating clearly, “you are the greatest fool I have ever met. First of all, why on earth would he enlist an eleven-year-old’s help, and second, just why would I go against you just because some old man told me to?”

The gears are turning in his mind now that logic has penetrated the haze of anger and betrayal, so she throws in a reassurance before changing tacks. “I’ll help you however I can if necessary, but Xanxus, I don’t think this is a good idea. The ninth and his closest circle know without a doubt that you aren’t Vongola by blood no matter how much you are one at heart, and the Sky ring will reject you as ultimate proof of that. You’ll have to start a bloody massacre to get that position as decimo, one that will make lasting ripples, for you and everyone who supports you, and quite frankly…” Her hand moves to her abdomen as she delivers the final blow. “If at all possible, I’d like to avoid my baby being born into a period of war.”

If her arguments were slowing him down before, now she’s rendered him positively frozen. The fire dies out in his eyes, replaced by utter befuddlement. “Baby?” he repeats, bewildered.

“Baby,” she affirms. “I’m pregnant. I won’t tell you by whom, or the whens or wheres or hows, but there’s an Aria Jr. growing in my womb and I would be honored if you’d be her godfather.”

Xanxus is silent for a long while, absorbing that. When he speaks again, it’s slowly, as if he’s making sure he’s got his facts and inferences right. “You’re pregnant,” he says. “With a child.”

“Yes, Xanxus, because there are totally other things I can be pregnant with,” she snorts, rolling her eyes. He shoots a glare at her but continues.

“And… it’s going to be my godchild.”

“Well, only if you accept the position, but that’s the general hope, yes.”

“And… wartime isn’t a good time for it to be born.”

“Obviously. And I’ll be sending her to be raised by her father if there’s going to be a fight.”

“How-”

“Seer.”

“…Right.” He goes quiet again, contemplative. Aria waits patiently for his conclusion. “…I was going to attempt a coup on the ninth and my bro-” He cuts himself off, hesitant as he ever gets.

“Your brothers,” Aria prompts, because she has no such qualms about his current identity crisis. And was, past tense, that’s a good sign.

“…My brothers.” He stops again and studies Aria’s stomach. It’s an exercise in futility since she isn’t showing yet, but maybe he’s drawing something from it on a spiritual level. He comes to an apparent conclusion, and while no heavy load of intangible tenseness visibly removes itself from him, he looks less like he’s going to do something crazy and dangerous. “…Guess I’m not, anymore.”

And Aria is relieved. Her victory here, she realizes, is directly attributed to how close they’ve grown over the years, and the suddenness of her surprise, and maybe even a little bit to the alcohol Xanxus has consumed, but what she knows for certain is that her friend is not going to be frozen in Dying Will Ice in this timeline. Years won’t be stolen from him. He’ll live his life. And you know what? It’s going to be a damn good life.

Laughter, slightly hysterical, bubbles out of her now as she grabs him and pulls him into a hug. “It’s good to hear that, you great galumphing idiot.

Omake

“Can I name her?” Xanxus demands a few months later, eyeing Aria’s swelling belly as he pushes a stack of completed paperwork out of the way.

“What? No,” Aria says, startled. “She’s my baby, not yours.”

“But I’m going to be the godfather,” he argues. “I’ll call her Uni.”

“What kind of a name is that?” Aria demands, taken aback. She’d been expecting a proper, well-used name, like Bella, or Columbine, not, you know, something that sounded like he’d come up with it off the top of his head.

“Uni, because she’s part of the reason why the Vongola are still uni-fied.” Xanxus smirks as Aria gapes at him in disbelief.

“Get the fuck out of my office.” When she finds out who taught him how to pun she’s going to skin them alive and rip out their intestines.

(A/N: Petunias, in the language of flowers, means anger or resentment, and as you probably know, giglio nero translates to black lily. I hope you enjoyed this! *grins* Aria was surprisingly fun to write, though Xanxus stopping because of a baby does seem a little far fetched to me. Comments are appreciated!)

#pika's post #pika's writing #khr #xanxus #aria #finally done yay

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allyinthekeyofx · 7 years

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Fading light -Part 2- 6/6

PART ONE - Chapters 1-6

PART TWO - Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three Chapter four

Chapter five

NOTES - There are another two parts to this fic - keep that in mind when you get to the end of this chapter. That’s all I’m sayin’

PART TWO

CHAPTER SIX

There have been no more nosebleeds. Not since that frightening day in the park has Scully lost so much as a spot of blood. But this time, what she is actually losing is so much worse, because this time, as the tumour pushes an unrelenting path in to her brain, what she is steadily losing is herself.

The first time I really noticed was about a week after I had brought her home from the hospital, a week after we had sat cross legged on the couch, facing each other as we fed each other forkfuls of coconut Birthday cake and vanilla ice cream. And for a few hours I had been happy. The pain in my injured hand not even really registering as I watched my partner laugh as I dabbed a blob of butter cream on to the end of her small, sculptured nose, leaning forwards in response to the playful challenge she threw down to me from those sparkling blue eyes. And just for a few hours we forgot everything as we lost ourselves in each other.

Should we have made love that night?

Probably not; Scully was still weak from the blood loss and by rights shouldn’t even have been released from the hospital, but there was an unspoken need between us that we couldn’t ignore so we just took it steady, tempering the passion through necessity and truthfully, something happened to me that night as I gazed down at her enlarged pupils; perfect lips that were swollen from a hundred teasing kisses and my whole perception of life seemed to shift slightly on its axis, rendering me almost unconscious with love for this woman. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before – a joining of two souls that nothing would ever tear apart and I swear I could almost see the shadows melding in to light around us, chasing away the darkness, leaving only this love, a love so blinding in its intensity that I somehow knew it would survive somehow inside me even as the physical structure was taken from it.

Maybe it’s true that love is eternal. I don’t know. But that night, just for a few moments, I felt sure that it could be.

And as Scully gently cupped one of her small hands around my face, her eyes told me that she felt it too.

I held on to that feeling in the days that followed as Scully’s headaches intensified; rendering her unable to function on any level at all for more than a few minutes. I lost count of the hours I spent holding her against me, spooning myself around her as I gently tried to stroke her pain away. Sometimes I succeeded. Most times I didn’t. And it became very obvious very quickly that it was time to up the pain meds.

She cried then. Huge wracking sobs that almost tore me apart, knowing as she did that stronger medication was the first small downward spiral towards the abyss and she had fought so hard, so fucking hard to deny the need to herself and to me. Until one day when I came home from work to find her curled in a ball in the bathroom, surrounded by the sickly sour-sweet scent of her own pain induced vomit clutching her head as tears and snot marred her beautiful face; screaming at me to make it stop.

To please just make it stop.

We already had the morphine; prescribed by Dr Zuckerman, to be used when things got bad. He had shown me how to inject her, an action necessitated by her refusal to be admitted to the hospital where her pain could be better managed and if I had initially baulked at the idea when she first suggested it as a compromise, when it came right down to it, plunging the needle in to her that first time to stop her hurting was singularly the easiest fucking thing I had ever had to do in my entire Godforsaken life.

I had held her then, right there on the bathroom floor, I rocked her gently until her anguished cries gradually tapered off in to occasional hitching sobs and she turned and buried herself in the folds of the jacket I hadn’t even had time to remove, knowing then that, even if she couldn’t voice it, she needed me there; that I could deny it no longer.

That night, after I had cleaned her up and carried her to the bedroom, laying her gently down as she succumbed to the medication now numbing her senses I picked up the phone and called Skinner to let him know I required an indefinite leave. That for as long as it took, I wouldn’t be returning to work.

It put him in a difficult position. I know that now. Because Scully and I, on paper at least, were nothing more to each other than partners. Work Colleagues. Bureau policy on the fraternisation between male and female agents was very clear and while relationships surely occurred on a regular basis, it was never acknowledged. And yet here I was, expecting to be granted a leave of absence without a single question being raised; but he managed it. God knows how he managed it but I received the paperwork just 48 hours later, the box labelled ‘expected return date’ marked ‘unknown’.

And to my surprise, I effectively walked away from my life’s work without even a murmur of dissent.

Because the X-Files suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

Nothing mattered any more except Scully.

Don’t get me wrong, we still had a measure of normality. The morphine, whilst sometimes leaving her fuzzy and disorientated, did its job admirably and without the constant pain, Scully was able to carry on. Her appetite was poor though and she began to lose weight, beginning to look as sick on the outside as she was on the inside. But despite this, she was still my Scully. She still laughed, still poked me in the ribs playfully when I overstepped the mark, and still admonished me when I casually dropped my discarded clothes on the bedroom floor instead of crossing the few feet to the laundry hamper. She could still beat me hands down at Yatzee and Clue , grinning at me with satisfaction at my frustration when I lost over and over again despite my best efforts.

Oh yeah, she was still my Scully.

We spent hours walking. Usually around Rivergate, as slowly winter turned in to spring and new life began to bloom around us. The irony of that wasn’t lost on either of us I don’t think.

Occasionally we got in the car and just drove. Aimlessly driving, needing in some unspoken way to keep moving forwards. We just let the road take us, stopping if something or somewhere caught our interest. Often she would fall asleep with her head resting against my shoulder, and I would find somewhere to park just so I could look at her. Sometimes being with her was so excruciatingly painful that something hard and cold took up residence in my chest cavity, stealing my breath from me and rendering me incapable of speech. And she knew; she always knew when I was falling and she would find a way to emotionally catch me before I hit the ground.

Only very rarely did we talk about her cancer.

We both refused I think, to allow ourselves to be defined by it or more crucially, for our relationship to be defined by it.

Until one day, one frightening day, when Scully began to drop random words in to her sentences, substituting in a way that clearly made sense to her but only to her. And even more frightening was that she was totally unaware that she was even doing it. The first time it happened I thought she was kidding.

Had you big time Mulder

But it was all too clear that she wasn’t.

She had refused all offers of a further MRI scan, arguing that since she was on no actual treatment protocol, tracking the progress of the disease was pointless. But really, I think she was simply afraid. I didn’t blame her since I seemed to spend every waking hour suspended in a state of perpetual terror that gnawed at me with an uninterrupted tenacity that would have, if I’d allowed it to, swiftly rendered me unable to function on even the most basic level. I wasn’t sure I was ready to physically have to face the demon that was slowly and relentlessly taking her away from me, not ready to have to weigh the time we had left in weeks or months. It was just too damn painful.

So instead, we made memories. As best we could at least.

A trip to the fair where we rode the ferris wheel again and again, laughing as the wind whipped around us, her slapping me at the centre of the chest in mock admonishment as I made the car rock when we were right at the top of the arc. And I kissed her, slow and deep as coloured lights twinkled beneath us and the starlit sky stretched to infinity above. I kissed her with my eyes wide open, to preserve this moment in time for ever. The sight of her face, flushed as it was with almost childlike happiness as I prayed to whatever God controlled the universe to please let me keep her for one more week, one more month, one more year; knowing the futility even as I wished that it could be so.

Because day by day, it was becoming clear that there was no stopping the progression of the disease, that the Scully I had fallen in love with so many years ago was slowly being taken. Not just from me, but from herself.

Her short term memory was becoming poor. For the most part she managed to hide it from me although I know she was in the habit of checking to see if her toothbrush was wet; to check that she had remembered to clean her teeth in the morning. And that she had begun to carry a small note book and pen with her in to which she jotted small snippets of daily life, to refer back to should she forget. She never asked me for help in that regard, fiercely trying to hang on to her independence, refusing to be cowed by the relentless damage being wrought upon her by this cruel disease.

I had reconciled myself to the fact a long time ago that this time there would be no miracle cure. That any intervention I had thought might come had been nothing but a scant hope from a desperate man. I had been stupid to even think that there might be. Because finally I knew, that everything leading up to this point had been carefully orchestrated and calculated. To give her back to me the last time. To allow me to fall in love with her, only to take her now was almost too heinous an act for me to comprehend.

On one night, not so very long ago, Scully had made me promise that I would continue to fight for justice. For her, for me, for everything and everyone who had been taken from us both. And I promised. Of course I promised. I would promise her the sun moon and stars if I thought it might bring her peace.

And when she was gone, when I had finally let her go, I would beg for her forgiveness before putting my gun against my temple and pulling the trigger.

Because without her, there could never be justice.

Because no amount of legal or moral recompense could ever be equal to what they have taken from us.

And now, as I sit on the sofa, listening to the sound of Scully’s desperate sobs from within the bedroom where she fled, I no longer have any fight left to give. I feel hollow inside. As though my heart has been ripped out of my chest.

Because this evening, as we curled up together on the sofa to watch TV, my beautiful, brilliant partner with her incredible mind, the woman who re-wrote Einstein when she was 23 years old, discovered that she could no longer read; that the words on the screen meant absolutely nothing to her.

And as I watched her literally fall apart before me, months of futile denial finally becoming undeniable, something cracked and broke free from her and she fought me with everything she had as I tried to take her in my arms, to soothe her even as I knew that there was nothing I could hope to do to make this right. Watching helplessly as she sought escape from me.

I didn’t follow her.

I couldn’t follow her.

Because I am alive and she is dying. For perhaps the first time she has to acknowledge that she is dying.

And I will give her the time she needs to at least begin to make sense of all this and then I will hold her against me as I search for the words that will convince her to keep going, to keep fighting.

Because I can’t lose her yet.

I just can’t.

XXXX

I think I fell asleep for a few minutes. I have no recollection of even closing my eyes, but the shadows in the room have deepened slightly. My watch tells me that barely half an hour has passed, but the apartment is quiet. The sounds of Scully’s distress have silenced and I decide to risk going to her.

But when I enter the bedroom, I am suddenly frozen with an inexplicable fear that paralyzes me. I am unable to move as I realise she isn’t there. And like a magnet, my eyes are drawn to the centre of the bed, to the leather holster that usually holds Scully’s service revolver in place.

It is empty.

And she is gone.

My eyes narrow as I see a single page torn from a book has been left alongside the holster and with shaking hands I pick it up. My throat is burning with a combination of raw fear and an all encompassing guilt that I fell asleep.

She was hurting and I fell asleep.

I recognise the page as being the preface to one of Scully’s favourite books, a collection of poems and anecdotes that speak of love, of remembrance. Of loss.

She knows that book by heart.

‘ Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away in to the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly the way it was. I am I and you are you, and The old life we lived so fondly together remains unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in to your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well’

And even as I am scanning the words, I hear a noise, a strange animalistic keening sound that builds in volume and intensity until I realise that the sound is coming from me as realisation slams into my consciousness.

No Scully. Please No. Not this. Never this.

And I literally throw myself out of the apartment, screaming her name.

But there is only silence.

CONTINUED PART THREE

NOTES - Credit for the beautiful piece of writing at the end goes to Henry Scott Holland (27 January 1847 – 17 March 1918) who was Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford.

#Fading light #my fic #cancer #angst #msr #not everything is as it seems #but sorry anyway

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dinakaplan · 5 years

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Is Peanut Butter Good for You? Everything You Need to Know

Peanut butter is one of the most popular foods in the world. It’s simple, easy to use, and pretty darn tasty. But is peanut butter good for you?

Peanut butter reigns as one of the world’s favorite foods.

Some estimate that the average American kid eats around 1,500 PB&J sandwiches before graduating from high school. And according to the National Peanut Board, a jar of peanut butter can be found in over 90% of U.S. households. Is yours one of them?

Mine is. I love peanut butter! Whether I slather it onto a slice of whole grain bread, mix it into a curry sauce, or meld it into a warm and satisfying soup.

One of my secret late night snacks: a banana dipped in peanut butter! I also love smearing it on the inside of celery sticks. And my dad has even been known to spread it on a slice of cantaloupe!

There are endless ways to enjoy peanut butter, but that leads me to an important question. Is peanut butter good for you?

To answer this, let’s examine this cherished pantry staple.

Unless you’re in the 1% of people who have a peanut allergy or you have a severe case of arachibutyrophobia (the fear of getting peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth), read on.

Get to Know the Basics of Peanut Butter

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Did you know that peanuts aren’t actually, botanically-speaking, nuts?

They’re legumes. Legumes are the edible seeds or pods of plants. Other legumes include beans, peas, and lentils. But from culinary and nutritional perspectives, they are indeed very much like nuts.

Grind up roasted peanuts into a paste and, voila! You’ve got peanut butter.

Who came up with the idea of mashing up peanuts, anyway? George Washington Carver, an American botanist and inventor, is often erroneously credited with inventing peanut butter. Carver did find a lot of uses for peanuts — over 300 to be exact — but he didn’t come up with peanut butter.

There’s actually evidence that, long before Carver, roasted peanuts were being ground up by the Aztecs and Incas.

The peanut butter that we know and love today emerged from the work of multiple people at the turn of the 19th century. Marcellus Gilmore Edson patented peanut paste in 1884. In 1895, Dr. John Harvey Kellogg (the fellow who more or less invented corn flakes) patented a new process for making peanut butter. He then advertised it as a protein for people without teeth.

Peanut butter continued to gain popularity over the next century, and the rest is history.

You can now find peanut butter-flavored everything, from cookies to snack bars to cereals. Peanut butter itself comes blended with many flavors now, too — chocolate, vanilla, cinnamon, maple, and I’ve even seen cookie dough.

People love peanut butter because it’s affordable, simple, and versatile. And to most people (though definitely not everyone), peanut butter is delicious. But is it also nutritious? Let’s see what it has to offer.

Peanut Butter Nutrition

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It’s fair to claim peanut butter as a good source of protein. And even a small serving also contains a lot of important vitamins and minerals.

In just two tablespoons, you’ll find 8 grams of protein and 2 grams of fiber. It’s also a remarkably rich source of manganese, niacin, vitamin E, magnesium, and phosphorous.

Here are 3 Excellent Reasons to Eat Peanuts:

1) Peanuts Are a Healthy Plant Protein

The protein content of peanuts is around 22-30% of total calories. This makes peanut butter a great plant-based protein source.

Peanuts offer more protein than any actual nuts. They also contain all 20 amino acids, including arginine, which is important for heart health.

2) Peanuts Have Complex Carbohydrates and Fiber

Peanut butter contains complex carbohydrates. And it’s low on the glycemic index scale, so it won’t spike your blood sugar.

It also provides fiber, which will help you feel fuller longer. And it helps feed the beneficial bacteria in your microbiome.

3) Peanuts Are a Crucial Source of Nutrition

Peanuts are an energy-dense and nutrient-dense food. And they’re a highly filling food.

It makes sense, then, that peanuts have been used as an important source of nutrition for people on difficult expeditions to remote areas, under challenging conditions. Peanuts have helped people travel to Antarctica, fly into space, and trek all over the world. Peanuts have also played a crucial role in the elimination of malnutrition in several African countries.

Keep in mind that, as nutritious as it is, it’s easy to eat too much of this high-calorie food. Just two tablespoons contain two hundred calories, including over 15 grams of fat. If used as a staple food, peanut butter probably won’t help you lose weight.

And if you have diabetes or insulin resistance syndrome, then you may need to be vigilant with all high-fat foods, including peanuts, since there are some studies which correlate high-fat consumption with increased risk and severity of these conditions. Moderation is often key to reap the most benefits.

Is Peanut Butter Good for You? 5 Health Benefits of Peanut Butter

See all the reasons eating peanut butter can beneficial for your health:

1) Peanuts are High in Antioxidants

In fact, they have as many antioxidants as many powerful fruits, like strawberries.

Antioxidants help your body to counteract oxidative stress that can lead to chronic disease.

Peanuts contain one particularly potent antioxidant, resveratrol. Resveratrol may help reduce your risk of cardiovascular disease, Alzheimer’s disease, and cancer.

2) Peanuts Can be Good for Your Heart

A 2015 study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association looked at the impacts of nut consumption on mortality risk among just under 72,000 European and African Americans of low socioeconomic status.

They found that those individuals who ate the most nuts — especially peanuts (which they considered a “nut for the purposes of the study”) — had the lowest risk of death overall and from cardiovascular disease, in particular.

3) Peanuts Can Help Prevent Cancer

In addition to antioxidants, peanuts are great sources of vitamins, minerals, and fiber.

A 2018 study in the Nutrition Journal looked at peanut, pine nut, and almond consumption among 923 colorectal cancer patients and 1,846 controls in Korea. For both men and women, a higher intake of nuts (at least 3 servings per week) was strongly associated with a reduced risk for colorectal cancer.

Another study in 2013, published in Breast Cancer Research and Treatment, looked at peanut butter consumption and risk for breast disease in preteen girls.

The researchers followed 9,000 preteen girls for 15 years, finding that those who ate peanut butter at least three days per week had a 39% lower risk of developing benign breast disease as they got older.

4) Peanuts Can Help Keep Your Brain Healthy

Peanuts are rich in unsaturated fats, vitamin E, and B vitamins, all important for brain health.

Some studies have shown that eating nuts can help improve cognition, memory, and recall.

Other studies have found that peanuts, in particular, produce a certain brainwave associated with better sleep, improved immunity, and the natural healing ability of the body.

Peanuts are also high in niacin, a nutrient found to be beneficial in the prevention of Alzheimer’s disease.

5) Peanuts Can Help Fight Stress

Peanut butter contains a phytosterol called beta-sitosterol, which has been shown to help normalize high cortisol levels in studies of endurance athletes.

Cortisol is also known as the body’s stress hormone, so eating peanut butter may help manage feelings of anxiety.

The Controversial Components of Peanut Butter

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The standard recipe for peanut butter is pretty simple: peanuts.

Yet, different brands may add other ingredients to change flavor, texture, or even alter its nutritional profile. Some of these additives can be questionable. And others can be downright dangerous.

Where and how the peanuts used for peanut butter are grown can also affect the healthfulness of the end product.

Here Are 6 Things to Consider When Choosing Peanut Butter:

1. Sugar

As in all-too-many processed foods, food manufacturers use sugar to add sweetness to peanut butter. I was recently at the store looking for a new brand of peanut butter to try. I was appalled by how many of them (even varieties labeled as being “natural”) contained added sugar.

I’m sure you don’t need another lecture on the health problems caused by added sugar. It’s a primary culprit behind obesity, heart disease, Alzheimer’s, and practically every other major chronic disease of our times. And it’s not just in donuts and candy. A surprising amount of the sugar in the modern diet is snuck in as an additive to foods (like peanut butter!).

2. Salt

Salted peanut butter can carry up to 50 to 75 milligrams of sodium per tablespoon.

If you use peanut butter often and want to reduce your sodium intake, look for unsalted versions. And if you make your own peanut butter at home, buy unsalted peanuts.

3. Oil

As if 15 grams of fat in every two tablespoons wasn’t enough, many peanut butters also contain added oils.

Some of the biggest peanut butter brands, like Skippy, use fully hydrogenated oil, which has been linked to many health problems, including heart disease.

Many of the more natural brands of “no-stir” peanut butter contain added palm oil. This comes with ethical concerns. Palm oil plantations are a major driver of deforestation in the rainforests of Indonesia, Malaysia, and Thailand. Bulldozing old-growth forests to plant rows of oil palms destroys the homes of native people and already endangered species, like orangutans.

There are also reports of palm oil corporations violating human rights. They clear farmland and forests without permission. And the companies involved provide unsafe working conditions and inadequate pay to their workers. If you’re going to eat palm oil and you don’t want to contribute to these major problems, look for a “fair trade” certification as a step in the right direction.

4. Aflatoxins

Here’s a nutty fact: peanuts don’t actually grow on trees or bushes. They grow underground.

Peanuts grow best in hot climates, which means they’re at heightened risk of containing aflatoxins. Aflatoxins are a group of toxins that can be produced by fungi in humid conditions. They’re concerning because they have been known to increase cancer risk in humans.

Other foods at risk for containing aflatoxins include corn, figs, cereals, cottonseed, and tree nuts.

How do you choose a peanut butter with the lowest amount of aflatoxins?

Consumers Union tested a variety of peanut butter brands. They found that the lowest concentrations of aflatoxins were in the most well-known brands.

This is probably because they had the best hygiene and most effective testing methods. On the contrary, fresh ground peanut butter found at the supermarket had the highest aflatoxin levels.

In general, I’m a fan of fresh foods and local production. But due to the aflatoxin concern, when it comes to peanut butter, I recommend that you opt for a variety produced by a well-known company. And one that contains only peanuts (and maybe salt) as ingredients.

This is one food where it’s best to steer clear of the bulk bins and “fresh ground” found in many natural foods stores.

If you choose to buy your own peanuts and grind your own butter at home, be sure to examine and throw out any nuts that don’t look right. Moldy, shriveled, or discolored peanuts belong in the compost pile, not in your peanut butter.

And as a side note, researchers at Johns Hopkins University found some evidence that certain plant compounds may be able to counteract the negative effects of aflatoxins. These include chlorophyll in green vegetables, like spinach, and phytochemicals in such root vegetables as carrots and parsnips.

5. Pesticides

Unless you buy organic peanut butter, chances are, that unassuming jar contains more pesticides than you’d like.

According to the USDA Pesticide Data Program, there are eight pesticides commonly found in peanut butter.

The most common is Piperonyl butoxide, a known endocrine disruptor, a possible carcinogen, and a threat to honeybees.

When consuming peanut butter, the best way to reduce your exposure to pesticides is to buy a certified organic brand.

6. Genetically Modified Ingredients

Another reason to avoid peanut butters with added hydrogenated oil? The oil used usually comes from a genetically modified crop.

Rapeseed, soybean, or cottonseed oil are some of the most commonly used. And the majority of these crops are genetically modified in the United States.

There’s been talk of another genetically modified component that may eventually reach jars of peanut butter everywhere: allergy-free peanuts.

Scientists are hoping to be able to alter the genes for the proteins in peanuts that cause allergic reactions. They haven’t accomplished this yet. And there are some doubts that the end result would be as rosy as promised. However, it is something to keep in mind for the future if you want to avoid GMOs. (For more on non-GMO and organic certification, click here.)

A Note on Peanut Allergies

Odds are that you know someone who has a peanut allergy.

What’s interesting is that there’s evidence that suggests we might not be as allergic to food itself as we are to what’s being done to food.

For instance, in the United States, our food system is teeming with GMOs, artificial flavorings and ingredients, fillers, chemicals, and dyes. Peanut butter is no exception.

Peanut allergies have seen a dramatic increase in the last decade. Around 2.5% of children are now allergic to peanuts, which is a 21% increase since 2010.

The good news is that we’re more aware of this as a society. And medical professionals are better equipped to diagnose and treat them. Parents also have more ways to help prevent their kids from developing peanut allergies.

In 2017, the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases released new guidelines for how and when to start introducing infants to peanuts to reduce their risk — as early as 4 to 6 months old.

And it goes without saying, but it’s worth saying again: If you have a peanut allergy, don’t eat peanuts.

How to Choose the Healthiest Peanut Butter

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To select the best quality, healthiest peanut butter, here are some guidelines:

Choose organic to reduce pesticide and GMO exposure;

Make sure it contains only peanuts, without unnecessary extras like sugar and oils;

Avoid the bulk bins due to aflatoxin risk; and

Choose kinds that separate; healthy peanut butter needs stirring.

Making your own peanut butter is also incredibly easy.

In a high-speed blender or food processor, simply add peanuts and blend until a paste forms. You can even add a little cinnamon, vanilla, raisins, or dates to give it a different flavor.

The Verdict: (The Right) Peanut Butter Can Be Healthy

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Most of the peanut butter eaten today is chock full of added sugars, salt, and genetically engineered hydrogenated oil. And people often pair it with sugary jam and smear it on white flour bread.

Unless you work for the Skippy PR department, you’ll probably agree with me that this is not a healthy way to eat.

But it’s not the peanut’s fault!

A healthy peanut butter made with nothing more than peanuts can be a fabulous addition to most people’s diets. It’s a remarkably affordable source of abundant protein and fiber, as well as many other nutrients. And it tastes pretty good, too!

Tell us in the comments:

Do you eat peanut butter? Why or why not?

If you do, what are your favorite ways to enjoy it?

Now that you know the answer to the question, is peanut butter good for you, do you have any other questions about peanut butter?