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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Mine

4. Making friends 101

Genre: Yoongi x OC

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.4k

“Have you decided what you’re going to wear to this thing?”

I nearly jump out of my skin as a wild Sebastian wanders into my room. I’m still a little on edge from the stalker a few days ago.

“What thing?” I ask, folding my clothes as I repack my suitcase. We’ll be heading out tomorrow morning bright and early for Hong Kong. It’s quite the trip from Paris, and I wish that we could have scheduled things out a bit better. We’ll be in Asia for the next three weeks before having to turn around and come back to Europe.

From there, we’ll finally head back to the states for the final stages of promotions and the premier. Nobody was too happy about the revised schedule, but neither did they dare pass up extra promotions in Asia thanks to a certain K-pop group.

“You know...this festival we’re invited to.” Sebastian makes himself comfortable on my bed, smirking at my agonizingly organized suitcase. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

As if I could forget about that. “It’s my most reliable source of anxiety, what would I do without it?” I chuckle sarcastically as I struggle with a thick sweater that refuses to lay flat.

The film festival has been on my mind quite a lot since I first found out that we were invited to it. While now I know what really happened; that it was Kim Seokjin that invited me and not Min Yoongi, I still can’t help but feel a pang of fear every time it’s brought up.

Really, the topic of what I’m going to wear to what may be the most awkward meeting of my entire life is at the bottom of my long list of worries.

“I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to wear.”

I raise my eyebrows at my friend. This is the most he’s hung around me for the past week, and I welcome the promise of banter. Heaven knows I could let off a little steam.

“Oh? Do tell.”

Sebastian stretches like a cat on the bed and I giggle at the sight. His eyes light up when he looks at me, imagining what else he could do to make me laugh.

“Here’s what I’m thinking. People over there are...stylish. Like, they wear edgy cool clothes all the time. So I’ve got to represent, you know? I’m thinking of raiding Saint Laurent or something in preparation for this festival. It sounds like it’s a pretty big deal over there. There’s bound to be lot’s of people.”

It’s not very often Sebastian gets super into fashion, but when he does, it’s a guaranteed laugh for everyone involved.

“Saint Laurent? That’s your whole paycheck, buddy.”

“Hey! Don’t ‘buddy’ me, you little weirdo. If you’re nice to me maybe I’ll take you along.”

I roll my eyes at his offer, however tempting. “No thanks. I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, you know? Everyone is already expecting me to be tripping over my feet the second he walks in-”

“He? C’mon, Car. He’s not Voldemort, you can use his name.”

I flush when I realize that I’ve been purposefully avoiding speaking about Yoongi directly.

“Whatever. What I’m saying is that it’s already awkward enough. I don’t want to show up looking like a girl getting ready to go to her first prom.”

“Nonsense,” Sebastian hands me another sweater when I reach for it. “More like your second prom.”

He’s met with a sweater to the face.

“Shut up, you’re not even helping me with anything. Why are you in here?”

Sebastian makes a show of folding my sweater. “I’m in here to make sure you’re getting ready to leave tomorrow and that you aren’t passed out on the floor from anxiety or something.”

I wince from the unspoken words. Like before.

“Yeah, I’m ready. And I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look all that convinced, but lets it slide for now. “You know, things are only going to get more intense in Hong Kong. The closer we get to Seoul, the more intense things will become.”

“Not. Helping.”

🌙

I wish Sebastian didn’t have to be right all the time.

The second we get off the plane, it’s a madhouse. Like a literal madhouse. People are shoving, cameras flashing, and the questions are being yelled right into my ears. They’re mainly in English, a few in Cantonese, but there are quite a few in Korean as well. It’s easy enough for me to drown out the latter language, but the ones in English do their job well enough.

“Cara! Cara! Have you been in contact with Suga?”

“Are the two of you attending the festival together? What are you going to wear?”

“Just give us a smile, Cara! Cara!”

We don’t have a lot of security, only about three guys. Soon enough they’re surrounding me, and I am being moved along within a sea of black clothing and mumbled orders. I’m just able to crane my neck to see Sebastian pushing through the mess of reporters, tugging Rhea along behind him. She catches my eye contact and waves me forward.

I fight against the pang of guilt that hits me as I realize that this is all because of me. Never did I think that things would get this bad. I never thought that I would have to be surrounded on all sides by bodyguards.

By the time we’re shoved into the car waiting for us outside, I’m out of breath and so is everyone else.

Sebastian and Rhea share my car with me. I’m not sure whether I should try to sleep or apologize or resign-

“Cara?” Rhea’s hand grips mine as she gives me a reassuring squeeze. “You ok?”

I give her a shaky nod. “Y-yeah. I think I’m fine. We’re just going to the hotel, right?” I give out a sigh of relief when she confirms. Good. I could use a bed right around now. Especially because we spent a good chunk of our flight going over the promo schedule for Hong Kong and it looks like it’ll be pretty much nonstop starting tomorrow morning.

I hate to ask, but I also know that if there’s another stalker waiting for me in my rooms I won’t be able to sleep at all, no matter how tired I feel.

“Could we...check my room-”

“Already on it,” Rhea says with a sympathetic smile. “I sent a couple of people ahead of us to check all the rooms out. They should be done before we even get there, no worries.”

I relax a little, thanking her for her foresight. We fall into a groggy silence after a bit, the car ride from the airport to the hotel being about thirty minutes. Hong Kong is small, but it’s packed. With it comes traffic and bright shiny buildings that I can’t help but gawk at.

For living in the big city of Seoul for two years, I can’t help but be amazed at big cities like Hong Kong. They never get old.

I’m so distracted by those shiny buildings that I almost don’t notice my phone lighting up with an incoming call. Its vibrations finally pull me from my daze, and I smile as Bong-cha’s photo smiles up at me.

I took the photo for her on her first day of school after she changed programs. She’s grinning like an idiot in front of an intimidating building, holding up a big thumbs-up. Bong-cha has always hated the photo. She says she looks like a kindergartener on her first day of class. I agree, which is why it’s my contact photo for her. Purely just to piss her off.

“Wow the love of my life is calling me again? You must really miss me.”

Bong-cha’s laugh is either a beat too late or a touch too loud, but I notice it immediately. The knots in my stomach that were just beginning to untie themselves suddenly tighten up again.

“Yah, have you landed?”

Oh, right. I was supposed to text her when I landed. “Umm...yes. A little while ago. We’re in the car now.”

“I knew you’d forget to text me. You always do.”

“Hey, that’s not true! And you can’t blame me this time. The airport was a mess. I hardly had enough time to whip my phone out and text you when people were trying to claw their way down my throat.”

Again, she’s a second late in responding. “It was really bad, then? I was worried about that. You have bodyguards, right?”

“Yeah, we do. Just three, though. I felt bad, I had to ditch the rest of the crew to walk between the bodyguards. Everyone else had to fend for themselves.”

Now it’s silent for more than a few seconds, but something that sounds like hushed voices breaks it.

“That sounds hor-”

“Bong-cha, what’s going on over there? Are you at work or something?”

It’s as though I break some sort of spell, because suddenly a laugh tears through the silence, but I know it doesn’t belong to my friend.

Last I checked she doesn’t sound like a windshield-wiper when she laughs.

There’s something about it that has me furrowing my brows in a mixture of confusion and anger. Rhea and Sebastian share a look, not entirely sure what’s going on in my conversation but understanding my expression.

Bong-cha is in the middle of trying to explain. “Well, yeah, I’m at work. We got to talking about you traveling today and the boys wanted me to call you and check in on you and-”

“Am I on speaker phone?” Again, silence. I’m getting real sick of the silence. “Kim Bong-cha, I swear if you put me on speaker without even telling me, I’m going to catch the next flight to Seoul and-”

“Aaand there’s the Cara I know and love!” Bong-cha interrupts, confirming my fears. I’m definitely on speakerphone. “Please, we both know you’re too busy with work to come over here, even if it’s for a good cause like the one I’m sure you were about to explain. Also, the boys say hi.”

The boys. She says it so casually, as if we all went to high school together and are just checking in with each other to see how life has been.

“The boys? Like, all the boys? Also, you only called me because they told you to, and not because you were genuinely concerned for me? I see how it is, Bong-cha. That’s low.”

Before my friend can defend herself I hear a voice that sounds too much like a certain Kim Seokjin.

“You’re right, she is funny!”

I snort, fighting the blush on my cheeks. Am I really on the phone with BTS? What world is this?

“Is that Seokjin?” Even just saying his name makes me feel like a giddy middle schooler.

“Yeah,” Bong-cha responds.

“Well, you’d better watch out Seokjin. Once I’m done beating Bong-cha I’m coming after you.”

“M-me?” Jin has the sensibility to sound a little scared. “Why me?”

A dry laugh sounds, but I can’t tell who it belongs to. Few others have such a distinguishable laugh as Kim Seokjin.

“Bong-cha told me that it was you who started this whole mess with the film festival! Do you know how much anxiety you’ve caused me?!” My anger from this entire mess infuses me with more boldness than I could have mustered in this situation otherwise.

There’s some scuffling noises on the other side of the line, followed by a few grunts. Jin shouts in disdain.

“Yah! I was just trying to help! You’ll be thanking me!” A door slams, blocking out any further shouts from the man. I can’t hide the grin that splits across my face as I imagine what must be going on over there.

“Ok, he’s gone. I’ve banned them all from this room for the duration of this call.” Bong-cha reassures me. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I was calling to ask you something, actually. Don’t feel any pressure, but I think it may help relieve some stress on both sides-”

“What are you getting at, Bong-cha?”

She takes a deep breath. “Is it alright if I give Yoongi your number?”

My jaw falls open. I’m about to freak out when I realize that there’s a small chance that somebody may still overhear me on the phone. Barely composing myself, I respond to my friend, ignoring the obvious shake in my voice.

“Does he actually want it? Because it sounds like all of this has been thrown on him as much as it has me.”

“Er...yeah. He wants it. He was trying to ask about you today, but in that way where he doesn’t want it to look like he’s asking about you, you know? So I finally told him that he should just get your number so he quits bothering me about it. It’s been like this all week. So I figured I’d just give it to him, if you’re alright with it?”

In most situations, I know what to say. I’m usually pretty good at coming up with something to say in order to keep the conversation flowing. Maybe when Graham Norton dropped the bomb on me about Yoongi, I wasn’t the best at it but I at least inserted little comments here or there.

Now, I’m not really sure what to say anymore. It seems that the second I begin to relax and feel like I’m finally getting a handle on this, something happens.

It’s that same fear that I’ve had since I was a child kicking back in. It seems silly, in a time like this. I’m a completely different person since then, in a completely different environment. And yet, that fear that I’ve carried with me all my life comes bubbling back up to the surface.

“Bong-cha…” I struggle to keep a neutral expression as I’m aware that I’m not alone in the car. “I’m not very good at making friends.”

Any other person would be quick to jump in and reassure me. Any other friend would race to recall experiences that would prove my claim wrong.

I guess that’s why Bong-cha is my best friend. She doesn’t do any of those things, instead quietly listening and thinking before she responds.

“You know, Cara…” she begins in a sincere tone. “Maybe that’s not the point. Maybe you’re not meant to be amazing at making friends. But you’re really good at letting people be friends with you. Which, honestly, is a talent. A weird, obscure one, but a talent nonetheless.”

What’s meant to be a laugh comes out more as a sigh of relief. Bong-cha always knows what to say.

“I’m going to do some research on that talent, because I’ve never heard of it before.”

“So...are you alright if I give it to him? I think he wants to just apologize to you more than anything. I swear he won’t be weird with it.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, mulling it over. Honestly, at this point, what do I have to lose?

“Yeah, go ahead.”

🌙

I’ve barely lugged my suitcase inside and collapsed on the bed when the first text comes through. I immediately jump up, senses on high alert. It would be a lie if I said that I haven’t been on edge just waiting for my phone to ding ever since I got off the phone with Bong-cha. Bracing myself for the bite of disappointment when it’s the “Young Rising” group chat, my heart nearly stops when I see it’s an unknown number.

UNK: Is this Cara?

UNK: This is Bong-cha’s friend, she gave me your number.

“Ah, he’s smart,” I note as I realize he didn’t give me his name just in case he mixed up the numbers. I quickly save his number in my phone, the action making me feel a little strange.

ME: Yes, this is Cara.

I overthink the four-letter message for way too long before I press send. I sound cold, but I don’t know what else to say. It doesn’t take long for three dots to appear on the screen.

“Oh, no. He’s typing. What do I do if he’s typing?”

I’m ashamed to admit that I consider chucking my phone out the window for more than thirty seconds. Only the ping of my phone stops me in my train of thought.

MYG: Have you made it safely to your hotel?

I blink at his message. The fact that I really don’t know this man at all is hitting me like a ton of bricks. He seems kind though...from the twenty or so words he’s typed. That’s all you need to judge someone’s character, right?

ME: Just made it, actually.

Pausing, I quickly type out a message before he can respond.

ME: No need to worry

Well, if this isn’t the most dry conversation the earth has ever witnessed. I cringe when I see the three dots pop up again. He’s probably thinking the same thing and is looking for a quick way to end this entire conversation.

MYG: Good, although I think I may need to worry. It sounds like the airport was out of hand today.

ME: ...were you eavesdropping on my conversation with Bong-cha?

MYG: Speaker phone doesn’t count as eavesdropping.

ME: It does if the person doesn’t know she’s on speaker!

I have to wait nearly five minutes before he responds again, and the tell-tale ping of my phone has me rushing over to where I left my phone on my nightstand, leaving my toothbrush on the bathroom counter.

MYG: I’ve thought about it, and I think I need to apologize for eavesdropping on your conversation with Bong-cha earlier today.

ME: That was easy.

MYG: I think I’ve made things difficult enough for you, don’t you think?

Huffing out a laugh, I nod in agreement.

ME: You have.

When more than ten minutes pass without a reply, I convince myself to take a shower. Then I persuade myself to stand in the shower for more than three minutes, even though I’m itching to see if he’s replied yet.

Fifteen minutes later there’s still no reply. Cozying under the covers I stare at my phone, answering a text from Bong-cha asking if Yoongi has texted me yet.

Even though I’m a fan of the band, I can’t say that I’ve ever really gone out of my way to learn a lot about them. Beyond the music, I know very little.

At least, that’s the excuse I give myself as I watch video after video about Suga: the biggest baddest soft boy in the universe.

It’s nearly two in the morning before I force myself to put my phone down and get some rest. The thought that maybe my text came off more harsh than I intended it to has crossed my mind several times, but it’s too late now to try to take it back.

It’s nearly four in the morning when the sound of my phone vibrating drags me out of my slumber. Groggily, I reach for my phone, hissing as I hit my elbow on the nightstand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groan, squinting at my phone. “I swear, if it’s Bong-cha at this time of night…”

MYG: I’m sorry.

MYG: I’m trying to fix this, thank you for being so kind and patient. Things will get better.

MYG: You don’t have to come to the festival, just so you know. Let me know, and we can cover for you somehow. Make up an excuse. Don’t feel like you have to come, or even speak to me. I’ll understand.

MYG: Sorry for texting so late! I just realized what time it is. Go to sleep. Sorry if I woke you up.

MYG: Sorry.

I’m caught between feeling choked up about the apology and trying to even wrap my mind around the fact that Min Yoongi is up in the middle of the night typing out an apology text to some girl he’s never met.

“Who even are you? Who does this?”

Hardly trusting myself to write back a proper reply, I squint into the screen as I hesitantly type letter by letter. Writing in Korean at four in the morning is not one of my strong points.

ME: I think I’m more exhausted by the amount of times you just said sorry than with what time it is. Go to sleep, Yoongi.

It takes all of thirty seconds for a reply to come through.

MYG: 😅 I guess good morning, Cara.

ME: Good morning, Yoongi.

I fall asleep watching the three dots on my phone appear and disappear as Min Yoongi ponders what next to say in this unlikely forming friendship.

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hongnanglen-arina · 3 years

Text

“You’re mine. Only.” | Kim Mingyu

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Mingyu x fem reader

Warnings: half naked drunken people at a chaotic party, jealous dom!Mingyu, fingering, penetrative sex, oral fem receiving, mentions of exhibitionism, sex without protection (you should always use protection!)

Words: 4.785

A/N: Hi there! It’s finally done and I died several times writing the steamy part. Hope you’ll like it and it makes sense lol. As always, English isn’t my first language so excuse my grammar ♡

—

You inhaled sharply.

Today the guys held a little party where you had a 3 hours long competition with Wonwoo and Minghao over Mario Kart and Tekken - which you didn‘t plan at all. It just happened after Wonwoo excitedly had to tell you about how often he won against Minghao and that ‚literally no one could ever beat him’ which just called for your gamer heart to add a comment, leading you three to the said challenge. Much to your boyfriend’s dismay because he wanted to have a good time with you and with that he meant having you close to him and also having your attention most of the time. Not being absorbed into games, especially with one of his friends that he knew was interested in you in the past - or what he had told him when Mingyu finally confronted Wonwoo. He wouldn’t lay a finger on you he said. You belonged to him now and that he knew he said. That his friendship with Mingyu was more important to him than a girl he just had known for half a year he said. Mingyu knew that Wonwoo didn’t lie but every time he saw his friend look at you there was a suggestive hint. Maybe it wasn’t and it was just Mingyu‘s imagination but for him it always was when it was directed to you or because of you. He let you play Mario Kart and tried to chat with Vernon about a new idea he had for the Hip Hop unit, beer in one hand and nodding whenever he found something good or interesting but every other time his eyes flew back to where you were sitting with his friends, sitting between Minghao and Wonwoo on the floor while Jun, Seokmin and Seungkwan on the couch were cheering loudly for the gamers. For Mingyu’s taste, your leg haven’t had to touch Wonwoo but he tried to keep his cool and pray to himself that you would end it soon and come back into his arms. But you didn’t.

Because after one hour of Mario Kart - important to say that you had won most of the rounds - Minghao mentioned Tekken and you were all in to beat Wonwoo‘s ass there as well. But he was better than you thought since you haven‘t played it for years resulting on having match after match, always different fighters, fighting against Wonwoo in the game and also somehow in the living room without a break. While the other boys were laughing about how competitive you and Wonwoo were, Mingyu found it harder and harder to suppress his jealousy when he watched Wonwoo trying to tear the joystick out of your hands or when you tried to cover his so that he couldn’t attack you.

‚Too much skin ship‘, Mingyu thought to himself while chewing on his lip, the third beer in front of him already empty. He thought about how he could get your attention without being mean or make you angry. Although he knew you had lots of fun hearing you laugh or let out a playful complaint, he wanted you to look at him but it seemed as if you’ve totally forgotten about him, which was stupid but he couldn’t help himself. Although you lived together, woke up together, had breakfast and lunch together and got ready for today’s party together, he wanted his girlfriend by his side. As selfish as it seemed.

Vernon was in a deep conversation with Woozi so Mingyu got himself a new can of beer and walked over to you, sat down on the floor behind you, pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

“Ah Gyu, tell him who’s better. It’s definitely me, right??” You turn your head slightly to give your boyfriend a short puppy smile, just to playfully glare at Wonwoo the next second. Mingyu tried to smile and didn’t show his annoyance, holding the can in front of you. “Here drink some. It will help you loosen up a bit-“ “Yeah drink it and loosen up so you can finally accept the true master here, hah!” “Never!” You still took a huge gulp from the beer and thanked your boyfriend with a peck on his cheek but then your attention was elsewhere again. Sighting silently, Mingyu tried to get ready for a long night without your loving attention...

...when the apartment door swung open and a very drunken Seungcheol ran into the living room and stopped abruptly in front of the tv. "You're blocking the tv", Jun whined while Joshua finally joined your group and pushed two tipsy boys into view, Dino and Hoshi. Seokmin asked them what they have been doing the whole time and Joshua tried to explain how he actually planned on making Sandwiches but since his two friends ate almost all the stuff instead of helping him, he called their favorite restaurant and asked for a delivery, still complaining, "I thought alcohol wouldn't hit you that quick if you ate something but those two taught me better. Can anyone babysit them for me please?" You looked between the boys when your eyes stopped on the oldest boy in the room. Before you can ask, you hear Minghao. “Hyung, you’re interrupting a very fierce battle. What are yo-“ “Oh my god, what are you doing!?“ Without a warning Seungcheol started to strip in front of everyone, causing you to cover your eyes. Jeonghan angrily yelled at him and tried his best to slap his hands away from opening the zipper of his pants while everyone else laughed, made disgusted sounds or cheered him on to take it all off. Meanwhile you in Mingyu’s strong arms giggled and told him how funny his friends were. He agreed and almost forgot about his previous aching feelings about you and Wonwoo.

From that point on, the party was a lot better in Mingyu's opinion. You gave him more attention, hushed kisses here and there, your beautiful smile reflecting his whenever you looked at him, your small hands touching his arms or hands to show him that you haven't forgotten about him when you talked to the other boys. And also the fact that Wonwoo wasn't sitting next to his girlfriend anymore added to his relieve. After the food was gone and everyone drank their favorite drinks, the atmosphere loosened up more and more. Some screamed at each other instead of talking normally even though the music wasn't that loud, some started to dance to others singing karaoke and some still tried to change Seungcheol's determination on getting naked.

"Y/N, I totally forgot about that game I got last week. I have it in my room. Come, I'll show it to you." Wonwoo stood in front of you and Mingyu, his eyes smaller than usual since he had alcohol like everyone else. Just when you were about to agree, your boyfriend cleared his throat, his grip around your waist getting stronger. "Well, can't you get it and show it to her here? Or should the both of us follow you to your room?" Wonwoo raised an eyebrow at Mingyu's words and licked his lips in thoughts. Just when Hoshi let out a terrified scream, which could have come straight out of a horror movie, everyone turned to him and saw the disaster. Dino threw up on Hoshi and Seungkwan. Minghao covered his mouth in disgust when Jeonghan rushed to the youngest, half scolding half cleaning him, sending the others next to him death glares because everyone knew that they had to take care of Dino. This was Jeonghan's special plea this morning and all the boys had agreed. But real chaos broke out when no one noticed how Vernon and Seungcheol had a rapping duet just in underwear and the latter was just about to remove the last piece.

That was the perfect time to leave.

So now you just inhaled sharply, being squished between the cold wall and Mingyu in your apartment, his eyes bore into yours. He was quiet the whole walk back to your shared place and you thought you almost sobered up at the time you had arrived but the quick motion when he spun you around and against the wall made you a little dizzy. "Gyu, w-what's wrong?" You dared to ask in a careful tone. It worried you a little when he didn't say a word in the full 47 minutes walk - yes you checked the time since you had nothing else to do. It wasn't a nice silence, it made you anxious. "Did I do something wrong? If yes, please tel-" "Have you ever noticed Wonwoo's look?" You blinked confused. Why was he talking about his friend? "Wonwoo? His look? His clothes or what do you mean??" Confusion written all over your face and Mingyu bit his lip. "The look he gave you the whole time? The smirks? How he licked his lips more often than normally? And when he was sitting next to you.. when he always touched your shoulder or so?" Finally you started to realize what it was about and you slowly lifted your arms to cup his cheeks with your hands. "Don't tell me you're jealous? You know I don't see him that way. Also I am pretty sure it was the alcohol speaking if you thought he gave me different looks or it was the alcohol in his system. Whatever it was-" "You're mine." He cut off your words and you tried to decipher his expression. He didn't seem angry nor disappointed. It was more a dominant one that he showed with his whole body. Your thumbs brushed over his skin in soothing motions, your eyes looking up to his dark orbs. "I'm yours only, forever." His gaze softened a bit at your words, leaning in your touch and closing his eyes. Mingyu hummed approvingly but then a playful smirk danced at the corner of his full lips, his eyes opened again, studying your face. Without realizing, you swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what this specific smirk meant. You felt his leg shift and settle between yours and you automatically looked down, quickly up again to see a wider smirk.

Mingyu leaned forward, his lips close to your ear when he whispers. "Then show me. Show me that I'm the only one. When my leg is between yours.. what should my girl do, mh?" His breath tickled you, causing the little hairs to stand up and covering your skin with goosebumps. All of a sudden, you felt adventurous and smirked as well, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him. Without deepening it, you let them massage against his for a couple of seconds and pull back, your head tilted to one side. "This?" Mingyu let out a deep chuckle. "... uh uh. Wrong. I'll give you one more chance. Call yourself lucky." You teased him, making a thinking sound and pouted playful at him. "That's too difficult. Maybe I'll need a hint?" Another deep chuckle, he shook his head amused but then his eyes were fixated on yours again, without a warning, his thigh pressed against your core, making you gasp in surprise. Your boyfriend nodded at your reaction, seemingly satisfied. "Still difficult, baby?"

Biting down on your lower lip, you started to grind against his leg. You’ve been together for long enough that he knew what you liked. And one of those things was to ride his thighs. They were muscular and strong. Just like his arms. You held onto his biceps while moving your hips, looking him in the eyes. Mingyu was watching your every move. A smug grin plastered on his handsome face. “First I wasn’t too happy with your choice of clothes for the night. Don’t get me wrong, love. Seeing you in my clothes, how you almost drown in them, I love it. The problem was more your leggings. Whenever I saw how Wonwoo looked at your legs.. I couldn’t help but to think of pulling you away and claim what’s mine. Even if I had to do it in front of him.” “And the others?” “I couldn’t care less.” “Mingyu-“ “He liked you.”

Your motions came to a halt while you looked up at your boyfriend with your mouth slightly hanging open. Before you could ask anything, he continued. “After we got together, he confessed. Promised me his feelings were gone for the sake of us but whenever I see his glance at you, it tells me differently. I know you would never do anything but seeing this.. wants me to show everyone what we have.. maybe it’s a guy thing, I don’t know..” His voice changed to a confused and apologetic one while he talked and tried to explain himself and somehow you understood. The tall boy rubbed his neck and looked to the side, avoiding your gaze. You didn’t know about his best friend and his feelings for you, only seen it as a friendly gesture towards you. Mingyu cleared his throat and murmured, “I’m sorry y/n, I’m an idiot to think like that, right?” Finally looking at you again, he pressed his lips to a thin line, a way to deal with his nervousness, his eye brows lifting a bit while he waited for your answer. He was cute. “Yes, you’re an idiot.” Immediately his shoulders dropped, a pout forming on his face. “But only for telling me all that while I’m squished between my boyfriend and the wall and trying to get off on his thigh, that I oh so love! Because I’m horny!” Mingyu blinked taken aback and you quickly covered your mouth with your hands when you realized what you just said. Were you so desperate that the fact your boyfriend just told you about didn’t worry you? Somehow it worried you but you wanted to deal with it later. You two have solved other stuff before. You were more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. You could overcome everything, together. But.. just not now. You giggled sheepishly and after a short while, he joined. Gently taking your face in his big hands and whispering a hushed ‘you’re unbelievable’ against your lips before kissing you passionately.

It made you breathless and needy for more. Your hands fumbled with his shirt, hoping he would understand and he did. Pulling back a little just to get rid of it, his hands grab your ass and place you back on his thigh, pushing you down so that you could feel his muscle against your core once more. You bit down on his lower lip while your hips moved against his leg. Mingyu groaned in your mouth, one of his hands roamed over your body until it disappeared underneath your hoodie, finding your breast and kneading it over your bra. “Mingyu..” You whined between kisses. It felt so good even through the layers of clothes but slowly you grew impatient. You wanted more. Of course your boyfriend noticed it. Smirking, he easily lifted you up and without saying anything, your legs wrapped around him, your hands holding onto his broad shoulders. He made his way over to the black leather couch in the living room and let you down carefully so that you were laying on your back. For a second, you adored Mingyu’s handsome features in the dim light. How he was looking down at you through his wavy bangs, his tongue poking against the side of his cheek before he placed his hands on your body. Pushing your hoodie up a little to be able to hook his pointer fingers under your leggings, pulling your leggings off of you in one swift motion. You gulped impatiently when his weight met you on the couch. He instantly crawled between your legs, wasting no time to leave open mouthed kisses at your inner thighs, biting here and there to tease you. He enjoyed hearing your surprised gasps and hushed whines. Smiling against your hot skin, he pulled you closer to him and breathed in your sweet scent. “Before meeting you, I’ve never thought a smell would turn me on so much. Wow, I was so wrong.”

You couldn’t help but to blush at his words and the moment he pressed a kiss on your clothed core, you gasped. His tongue licked over the spot he knew your clit was hiding underneath the soft fabrics. Flicking and poking until you started to lift your hips in hopes to feel more. Your silent plea reached Mingyu as he circled his middle finger over the now wet spot while watching your hips move. “You’re so beautiful, babe.” Your eyes met his when he removed your panties, throwing them behind him and lowering his head between your spread legs. The excitement caused your breathing to speed up, the conversation from earlier long forgotten when his tongue met you once again but now without the distracting fabrics, making you yelp. With two fingers, he carefully spread the skin near your clit to get better access, knowing exactly that it would intensify the feeling if he stimulates you like that. “Ahh god, Gyu. Don’t stop!” Your hips met his mouth with every attention he gave you. With every suck on your sensitive nub, you gave him the sounds he loved hearing so much.

He didn’t warn you when he circled your entrance with his other hand and slowly inserted a long finger. You arched your back, your whole body shuddering. While your walls adjusted to his digit, he continued his assault on your clit, letting the tip of his tongue flick faster over it until he started thrusting his finger in and out after knowing you were okay.

Your hands grab the couch over your head while you tried to grind against your boyfriend, slowly noticing the familiar feeling deep inside of you build up. “M-more please..” You whined, causing Mingyu to smugly smirk at you but you didn’t notice it until he made you look at him with his next words. ”I bet, Wonwoo could never make you feel this good.” Your eyes widen, the blush on your cheeks grew when you met his dark gaze. Even in your dark living room, you could see him good. The dim light showed his well built upper body better than ever through his tight dark grey shirt, rising your anticipation. A second and third finger entered you and you moaned out his name. Your walls clenched around him, showing him how talented he is. In the first months after you started dating, he teased you a lot. Only because he wanted to get to know your body better. Where your sweet spots were. What you disliked. And that time really payed off. His middle finger found the rough patch within you and you gasped surprised, your legs tried to close but Mingyu is faster, keeping them spread enough with his elbows. “Prepare yourself of not closing them anytime soon, babe.” He speed up the pace, watching you from between your legs, enjoying the way your body shook, how you tried to grind your hips against him to finally reach your orgasm and you succeeded. There was no time to warn him nor to ask him for permission. It just happened too fast all of a sudden. After your high pitched cry, he helped you ride out the strong waves of pleasure, still moving his fingers and kitten licking your clit until you started to whine and tried to get away from his touch.

A low chuckle ran through your spine when his lips were still touching your core. “I love the sound you make when you cum. And… the juice you produce.. for me. You know how delicious you are, don’t you?” His words made you feel warm. You wiped off some sweat from your forehead when you lowered your gaze to get a better look at him, noticing his devilish grin. Mingyu was proud that he could make his girl feel this good. He was sure, no one could do it better than him. The memories from the party returned to his mind, how his friend asked you to follow him to his room. How he licked his lips while asking you that. On purpose or not, it didn’t matter to Mingyu. Wonwoo knew exactly how he could seduce people without trying too hard and even though Mingyu trusted you, he always had those pictures in his head especially when he had alcohol in his system.

Pulling out his fingers from your core and sitting up on his heels, he ignored how you flinched at the loss and even whined his name. Something else was clouding his mind. Pictures of what could have happened in Wonwoo’s room were flying around in his head as his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, discarding his pants and boxers in one swift motion and wiping off your juice from his chin. All the while you watched him carefully but still with adoration. You still felt his dominant aura and you knew he wasn’t done with you. Wondering what he was thinking because he had mentioned Wonwoo before, you slowly moved to a sitting position, causing him to stop pulling his shirt over his head. “Baby, let me help you with it.” You said in a sweet voice and took the cotton out of his hands, not breaking eye contact. He seemed hypnotized when his shirt slowly brushed over his head and you placed it beside the couch on the floor. For a while you two just looked at each other but his gaze was more like a predator watching its prey. You swallow.

“Baby.. you’re the only one I need. You know that right?” You begin, careful with the choice of words. “I would… never do the things we do with someone else.” For a second, his expression softened but it quickly changed again. “Get rid of the last pieces of clothes.” You were about to each out for him but let your hand drop after hearing his words. Following, you grab the hem of your shirt and removed it from your body, just as your bra until you were finally naked like him. You saw him lick his lips while his eyes wander over your bare chest and up to your flushed face again. “Only I can see you like this. Not Wonwoo, Not anyone else.” He said, inching closer and pushing you back onto the couch again, just to crawl on top of you, his legs spreading yours again. “He can’t have you like I do.” You were about to say something when he kissed you harshly, showing how much he means his words. Wondering if he was still under the influence of his drinks, you can’t help but to moan against his lips, which he used to slip his tongue through your teeth, swirling it around yours. All whine his hips grind down into your core, smearing your juice over his length. You tasted yourself on his tongue and let your fingers brush through his wavy hair, pulling him even closer. “I’m your girlfriend, not his.” Is the only thing you could say before he bit down on your lip and pushed his cock into you without a warning.

“Ahh fuck!” You cried out, trying to make him slow down in grabbing his hip but he just pushed further, filling you completely. At first it burned, the stretch was so intense, you couldn’t help but to clench around him, your nails digging in his flesh. “You’re always so tight for me, only for me.” His low voice made goosebumps to form on your bare skin. Mingyu changed his position a little, resting his arms beside your head when he pulled out almost completely to push back inside. A shuddered moan left your lips. You needed time to adjust. Although you had come a while ago, his fingers were not the same size as his length. You always needed time to relax around him but he seemed so lost in his dom state that he wasn’t as sweet as usual. His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his hot breath tickled you, hips still moving back and forth. “Tell me, babe. Would you like to be fucked in Wonwoo’s room? We could sneak in and I would make you scream my name. His bed would hit the wall with every thrust. We would be so damn loud. And he would notice at some point and come to his room, seeing us on his bed. And he would hear how you praise me. How you ask for more… and how we say that we love each other.”

You didn’t know that you had a thing for exhibitionism until now. Between hisses and groans, your boyfriend told you those sinful fantasies that you automatically clenched around his cock. Would you really enjoy being watched by his best friend? Also knowing that he used to like you? “I.. would show him what we have.” His hips snapped forth with such a force that the whole couch moved an inch and you gasped for air. “G-gyu!” “I’m going to show the whole world what we have.” Your eyes flew open when he sat back up, his warmth on you suddenly gone. But you had no time to complain when his big hands secured your hips in front of him to take you hard and fast. Turning your head to the side, high pitched whines left your lips while you felt his cock push in and out of you with such force and speed, you saw white dots in front of your closed eyes. You tried to find anything to hold onto until one of your hands grabbed a pillow above your head, the other on his thigh, digging your nails into his flesh as your legs began to shake. Mingyu changed the angle a little, now thrusting up into you so that he could hit that specific spot over and over again, making you scream his name followed by incoherent words that should actually be praises but thanks to his hard thrusts, you weren’t able to speak properly. The leather couch below you squeaked and you were sure that your neighbors heard it but strangely you didn’t mind. It turned you on even more.

Through gritted teeth, Mingyu pushed inside you, stood still while grinding against you before pulling back to repeat the procedure again and again. Your knuckles turned white when you tried to endure the intensity. You loved slow and sensual sex with him but once in a while you two would ravage each other like wild animals and you loved both. It was a perfect balance no matter who was in charge. And it seemed like thinking of his friend as an opponent turned Mingyu on as well. Because deep down he knew that you were his and his only.

“G-gyu… I….”

“I.. allow you to cum all over your boyfriend…. but tell me first… who’s making you feel so fucking good?”

“Y-you! You, Mingyu! Only y-you!” You had difficulties to speak, the orgasm so close that your thighs were pressing against Mingyu’s sides, his grip tightened on you.

“F-fuck, cum with me, y/n!”

Before he finished saying your name, your second orgasm washed over you with such an intensity that you heard your own blood in your ears combined with Mingyu’s growls as he shot his load deep into you, his body shaking between your legs. He was mumbling things that you couldn’t understand. After a while, he slowed down until he stopped completely, carefully flopping onto you, your sweaty bodies rubbing against each other while you tried to catch your breaths. With your last strength, you lifted your arms and let your slender fingers massage his scalp, tugging at his soft strands here and there. You felt him smile against your neck, tired from your act just as much as you were. “If Wonwoo is the reason for good sex with you, I should look at him more often, don’t you think?” You halfway joked but when his body stiffened, you wished you had never spoken those words.

With a heavy groan, he propped himself up on his arms to look at you. You weren’t able to read his expression. Suddenly nervous you said something wrong, you started to chew on your lip. “I’m… I didn’t mean it like that-“

“So you’re up for a session in his room?”

“W-what?”

You noticed the infamous devious smirk spreading across his face and you knew you were screwed.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #svt #svt smut #smut ff #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #mingyu #kim mingyu #carat #wonwoo #seventeen

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tessagracerichards · 3 years

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I saw [TESSA RICHARDS] at a coffee shop in [MANHATTAN] today. I forgot how much [SHE] looks like [ZOEY DEUTCH]. They are a [TWENTY-SIX] year old [CHILD LIFE SPECIALIST] who’s been in NYC for [THREE YEARS] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [TENDERHEARTED AND NURTURING] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [BLUNT AND GUARDED]. [SHE IS LOVE BY PARACHUTE] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio. — [saxon, she/her, 26, cst]

Out Of Character

Hello hello bbies! I am Saxon and this is the absolute labor of my love Tessa, please love her even though she doesn’t deserve it! I am very open to connections, ideas and plotting so please, please, please do not hesitate to hit me up if you want to conjure something up with my disaster child!

Also please forgive the mess that is this intro and her Pinterest, she’s been around for years so things have built up and gotten chaotic over time. I really told myself I would shorten her intro but I didn’t manage much, please look away.

Basic Information

Full Name: Tessa Grace Richards.

Nickname(s): Tess, Tessie.

Date of Birth: November 10th, 1994.

Gender: Cisfemale.

Pronouns: She/Her.

Orientation: Heterosexual.

Language(s) Spoken: English, Sign, Spanish.

Background

So Tessa was born to an unwed couple who were in their mid 30′s at the time, her mom thought the two of them were hopelessly in love until Tessa was four and dude just dipped? Her mom came home one day and all his stuff was gone, no note or anything, he emptied their account and they haven’t ever heard from him since.

Her mom is an absolute saint of a woman however (think Lorelai from Gilmore Girls meets Donna Sheridan from Mamma Mia), just an absolute quirky angel of a woman who definitely took in and helped abandoned animals but was also the place all the kids in town knew they could go if they had shitty parents/living situations or just a bad day and they needed a safe place to go? So obviously she stepped up and took down all dudes pictures and just raised Tessa like the single boss she is.

Tessa grew up into like an angel of a kid but oh buddy was she a chaotic one. Total tomboy, full of insane energy and personality, always on the move and exploring and doing things she shouldn’t be. Definitely the type to show up back at home as the suns going down just covered in dirt and bumps and bruises. 100% knocked her own baby teeth out from falling and slamming her face and had two front silver teeth as a little kid.

She was never very girly and because she grew up in this southern town that was just full of very critical asshole kids from more well-off families than her own was, particularly the girls who were very prissy, she definitely ended up clicking more with boys and quickly became ‘one of the guys’. Like undoubtedly had an all male friend group and was definitely the girl that girlfriends would be paranoid about while all the dudes were like confused as to how their girls were jealous because Tessa was just like another guy/little sibling, there was no interest on either end.

Has slight anger management issues? Like she’s chill but when she blows up man does she blow up. Pushed a girl down a flight of stairs at school after she made a remark about a friend, the family pressed charges and Tessa had to go to anger management classes and serve community service hours. She also got kicked out of school and just decided not to go back, went online and just got her GED at seventeen instead.

She realized her hometown didn’t have much to offer her and it wasn’t where she belonged, nor was she ready for college, so she took what money she had saved and instead purchased a sprinter van and began road tripping around the U.S.

At some point along the way, dumbass met a boy that wormed his way into her heart and it was a kind of a slightly unstable relationship because she would try and push away from him and her feelings but he always drew her back? Already has a shitty relationship with love after her father and two not ideal high school romances. Dude tried though and even proposed after like months of them being together and she panicked and ran but still he drew her back and they agreed that they should chill with the idea of engagement/marriage? There was always another girl in the picture though and even though he assured her that his feelings were with her, his actions often seemed to show otherwise.

After yet another break, the two ended up sleeping together but she definitely realized that he wasn’t in love with her at all/anymore so she saved herself the conversation and just dipped before he woke up and ran, spent a solid week just out partying/drinking and ended up sleeping with some stranger and then ended up pregnant with no clue as to which guy was the baby’s father. Whether fortunately or unfortunately, it was the one night stand’s who decided he had no interest in being around.

Obviously she knew she needed to change her course and focus on becoming a mother and setting up a future for herself and her child, but not being financially independent enough, she reached out to a lifelong friend who allowed her to move in and began to figure out school.

She’s always been a big fan of kids (worked for a daycare after school, got involved with a charity that worked with orphans/orphanages while traveling) and so she decided that she wanted to be a child life specialist and is still in school but also working an internship with Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital.

Ended up having a little girl named Addison (Addi), this child is her whole world and she’s definitely the mom that posts about their kid too much on social media but she’s just turned Tessa’s life around and helped her mature in ways she wouldn’t have without her and she just loves her kid more than anything/anyone else.

Personality

A dork? Literally the biggest dork, the dorkiest of dorks, just a whole friggen dork. This child rambles like you wouldn’t believe and her mouth 100% works faster than her brain so like you never know what to expect but she’s just a happy, friendly, sarcastic little bean with social anxiety and a heart of gold tbh.

Also an aggressive lil’ lady though, like 12/10 chance she’ll throw hands if you want to fuck with or say something about the people she loves.

A chaotic soul as well like down to party and have a good time and will definitely drink a dude under the table, definitely broke her ribs two summers in a row from a drinking game because this child doesn’t know when to slow down or chill out, she’s just trying to live.

But also the mom friend? Like even before becoming a mom, she’s used to taking care of people and making sure everyone’s good like? 100% convinced her friends to do dumb shit as a teenager and then turned around and tended to their wounds. Also if you’re in her house and it’s meal time, you’re eating. It’s not an option, like sit and eat dinner and tell me about your day.

Emotional as hell, like definitely cries during commercials and Disney movies, but like if you’re trying to tap into her serious emotions she’s gonna shut that shit down. She keeps people locked out tbh and just jokes about the serious shit in her life if she does talk about it.

Desired Connections

Friends; could have lived in/visited Texas and met when she was younger, met while she was traveling, met through her charity work or just after her/them having moved to New York recently.

Exes; so her most recent ex is off limits because it’s based off a real connection but like either of her exes from high school? The first one (cheated on her) would have had to have lived in Texas for some time but the latter (only with her on a bet to see how long it would take to get in her pants, she broke dude’s nose when she found out) could have been visiting friends/family for a summer? If anyone has a character that works for these I’m down for the drama.

Hookups; Tessa is very weird about hookups/one night stands so this is a little limited but my girl definitely needs a few.

Half siblings; so Tessa’s dad basically bailed when she was little - maybe he had another family? He could have had a kid before her who he also bailed on, could have started a family during the same time or after, he could have stayed there for them or bailed on them as well? They could know about Tessa, or neither could know about the other? Tessa pry wouldn’t know about them because she made it a point to never bother searching for this man let alone any family but literally I’m down for whatever other ideas you’ve got on this one!

Patients; if anyone has any younger siblings or kids of their own that perhaps Tessa helped or is currently helping take care of through her internship? She does everything from work in the hospital to house calls and works with both the medical and therapeutic aspects of things.

#villageintro

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architectuul · 3 years

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Navigating the Venice Architecture Biennale Opening Weekend: Between Observing and Belonging

Thursday, 5th June 2014. 3:30pm Here we are! After trying to climb three different fences, we have finally made our way into 2016 year’s Venice Architecture Biennale opening event. We managed to find an access point that was hidden enough from intrusive eyes as well as from the hyper-controlled entrance of the Giardini della Biennale, located at the south eastern end of the island. Our objective is to reach the pavilion of Great Britain’s press preview, which kicks off at 4pm and to which we have not been invited.

A large crowd waiting to hear the presentation for the opening of the Home Economics exhibition at the Great Britain pavilion (2016). | Photo © Cristiano Corte

Read also “In Vino Veritas Biennale Style!”

Guests are slowly congregating around the national building, where the event is about to start. This year’s chosen theme is A Clockwork Jerusalem, commissioned by the British Council and analysing Britain’s Modernism in cities and the legacy of planning, a subject that my friends and I hold a certain fascination for. The ribbon cutting ceremony is usually an opportunity for the curators to explain the concept behind the project and to contextualise it within the broader theme of the biennale, this year being Fundamentals. But a pavilion opening is also much more than that. It is a chance to feel part of an international community of architects and urbanists that come together to celebrate the best out there; to belong.

Walking along one of the main avenues in the Giardini della Biennale. | Photo © Lavinia Scaletti

As in many opening ceremonies, the pavilion’s entrance is packed with guests that you can barely hear the speaker. You start looking around the audience, checking faces to see if some are recognisable. When you finally come across a familiar one, a feeling of complicity arises. Is it because as visitors we feel that we are in the right place at the right time, being one of the very first to look around the long-waited exhibition? Or is it because the opening weekend is generally attended through an invite only? Funnily enough, at that specific event we did not speak to anyone other than amongst ourselves.

Great Britain pavilion entrance during the 2014 Venice Architecture Biennale, with the exhibition noticeable through the door. | Photo © Cristiano Corte

It was two weeks before our final exam of our architectural education. The decision to travel was not taken lightly, as we had to weigh out between the risk of losing precious study time to which our future careers seemed to depend on, or taking part in the celebration of this renowned exhibition, where architects from all corners converge. We chose the latter, but with the foolish condition of working in between one event and another. As expected, our laptops stayed in the suitcase for the entirety of our stay.

The Biennale usually lasts from May to November and we could have attended any other week within that period. Why did we feel the need to go at this specific time? As students, we tended to see the Biennale as the grand event of the architecture scene, a reference point in the professional and social life which follows for the next two years to come, and one definitely not to be missed. It certainly comes with a level of spectacle that showcases a generally forward-thinking and diverse work. And what a better way to observe all of this than with the theatrical Venetian backdrop! That year, Rem Koolhaas, one of the most acclaimed figures in the contemporary architecture scene, was curating the Venice Architecture Biennale. Perhaps this was also an occasion to come across him or any other prominent architect?

People gathering at a ceremony event during the 15th Venice Architecture Biennale in 2016, curated by Alejandro Aravena under the theme Reporting from the Front. | Photo © Lavinia Scaletti

The opening ceremonies seem to be over for the day. My friends ask, ‘what next’? We are told there is a specific bar on via Giuseppe Garibaldi, a few minutes away from the Giardini, where biennale attendees slowly proceed to. We decide to join the gathering too and end up sitting on the pavement amongst many others. The place is bustling with people that the drinking activity spills out onto the street, creating a composed party atmosphere. Throughout the evening, we move from one place to another in a similar procession, following the crowd, strolling through the city.

It is interesting to think how most of our journeys during that particular weekend seemed to be somehow planned. While you had to make clear decisions about what pavilion ceremony to be at, the schedule for the evening and night activities felt more settled. Despite our evident tiredness, we decided to attend most of them, at times engaging in conversations with others. The mere fact of being there, surrounded by architecture gossip and informal talk, made us feel gratified.

The large scale shell structure designed and built for the project Aqua Alta inside the building hosting the Paraguayan Pavilion (2014). | Photo © Pedro Kok

Through the remainder of the weekend, we decide not to visit the primary Biennale sites and instead explore the events around the city, being easier to attend and usually not requiring a formal invite. Partly accidentally and party planned, we venture out into the building hosting the Paraguayan pavilion, a country where I spent most of my childhood. The opening ceremony is on and the atmosphere cheerfully busy. We start chatting to other students and architects who are each of them giving us an interpretation of this year’s project Aqua Alta, curated by Sergio Ruggeri and designed by architect Javier Corvalan and the Colectivo Aqua Alta, with the participation of students. While gathering around a large-scale wooden shell structure, we hear the exhibition message is to emphasise the importance of water in Paraguay and of the ‘less is more’ philosophy. This seems to fit perfectly with the main Biennale theme.

It is a pleasant surprise when you step into these less publicised locations, somehow out of the main Biennale itinerary, and generally requiring an intentional diversion. While we assisted at a few pavilion openings within the principal sites during our stay, very few gave us that level of intimacy experienced at these smaller events, where we were able to get a thorough understanding of the concept behind each project. Often less busy, these out-of-boundary ceremonies present an opportunity for meaningful conversations and encounters. Attending the Paraguayan exhibition launch, did we feel less of an observer and more part of a group? Possibly. And we even got to try some chipa guazu, a national dish made of corn that I had not eaten for over 10 years!

***

VAB 11: Lavinia Scaletti

Lavinia Scaletti is an urban designer living in London. She currently works in the public sector for a local authority, developing place-based strategies and frameworks for different neighbourhoods and giving design advice. Her interest in city planning is driven by her desire to create more sustainable and playful places for people. She holds a master’s degree in architecture from the Royal College of Art, where her projects investigated the themes of housing and urban regeneration. She previously worked at public realm and urban design consultancy Publica and has professional experience in France and Chile. In 2016 she was a selected fellow in the EU-funded Future Architecture Platform and her work has been featured in exhibitions across Europe, including Italy, Spain, Austria and Slovenia. She is passionate about urban culture, particularly traditional markets and the life between buildings.

#vab #venice architecture biennial #cold cases

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jeanjauthor · 3 years

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Hello there. Please can you do a guide on how a king would live in the Medieval Era/Middle Ages? (Daily routine, hourly tasks/things they occupy themselves with each week) etc. Thanks.

Unfortunately, there's a LOT of ground to cover in that request, because the Middle Ages covers basically from 600s-1500s, and is presumed to be European, which means a gazillion kingdoms big and small. The best I can do for you is to point you at some possible times & places where there might actually a number of resources.

There isn't a lot of information on the early period stuff outside of Byzantium (Eastern Roman Empire), but you might want to look at resources covering that empire/timeframe as Romans were notorious for writing down almost everything. There may be more information floating around Charlemagne (the start of the Holy Roman Empire).

Next era could be in England, the time of Richard the Lionhearted (Richard II, his brother King John & the Magna Carta era, etc), also the Empress Maude (Empress Mathilda, mother of Richard & John) who lived in France, etc--her epitaph reads something like "Daughter of a King, Wife of a King, Mother of a King, but Never A Queen"...so you know there's going to be some history there.

Other spots that have royals that are fairly well studied: the Borgias and their influence across Mediterranean Europe, the Holy Roman Emperors of Austria, et al, all the way up through to the court of the Sun King, Louis XIV of France (admittedly more Age of Exploration than Middle Ages). With these latter timeframes, remember that a king's life gets more complicated and regimented by customs & rituals the closer you get to our most recent centuries, less complicated the further back in time you go.

For much of the above 1000-year timeframe, the daily life of kings wouldn't be that much different from the daily lives of nobles--better than peasants, with people to do your cooking, cleaning, and laundry--and if if you were lucky, you'd be able to read and write, though not always. The daily schedule would vary from place to place, time to time, and would not necessarily reflect our own mealtimes of breakfast-lunch-dinner for a start. Breakfast might be something simple like fruit, cheese, bread, or it could be pottage (porridge, a mix of grains & dried fruits, or leftover veggies & meat, etc), or it could be an actual elaborate meal, depending on the era, etc.

Daily concerns, there wouldn't be the agricultural labor expected of 90% of the population, and not so much any of the crafting labor expected of most of the population, though it's possible a king could have an interest in blacksmithing, leatherworking, even doing spinning. (Spinning was done by everyone, regardless of age or gender, though social class did have some effect.)

For absolute sure, most kings would definitely spend a few hours a day, either each day or most days a week, in combat training, weapons practice, mounted combat, and of course riding, since they could afford the horses. It is also possible some kings did their own falconry, but as rearing, training, and caring for hawks, falcons, etc, is a daily job, that would more than likely actually be the work of the king's falconer, with the king knowing enough of how to handle the bird (well, one hopes he'd know enough).

Hounds (various breeds of dogs) are depicted quite frequently in the presence of kings, so having a loyal canine companion would be a high probability (cats would be around, too, and might be favored), and while the full training and responsibility of feeding wouldn't be on the king's shoulders in all likelihood, dogs are much more likely to stick around than fly off back into the wild than, say, a hawk, so the king would have a lot more daily contact and interaction with them.

I include hounds and hawks because one of the things a king would be expected to do was to hunt. A lot of places had rules about the deer in the king's forests belonging to the king, to the appointed game wardens, to the local nobles...but hunting down feral animals was also an expected job of the nobility, so feral cattle and pigs, wild boar, those would be skills a king would train for, and would certainly have specialist warriors and huntsmen to surround him when going out on one of these hunts.

The king (or queen) would likely have petitioners arriving to speak with him. In earlier eras when travel was more difficult, these would probably be less formalized, but might still be frequent enough to require a formal royal court session (you know the one portrayed in movies, with the audience members, the petitioner being announced and brought up to the throne, etc).

Remember, however, that the earlier you go, the smaller the facilities, the less regimented-by-custom the activities, the less formal things will be--the king might hear petitioners in the solar (a room with a lot of natural light, where the royal family would hang out and do things indoors), the equivalent of sitting down in someone's living room and having a chat over coffee or tea. (Or rather, small beer, lightly alcoholic and drunk instead of water because after being brewed, it was more sterile and safe to drink, plus, calories!)

There might be specific days when the king does have royal court sessions, but again, that'll depend on timeframe, nation size, ease of travel, and overall frequency of petitioners asking to be heard...along with how close an acquaintance or how unknown they are to the king. Some would bring gifts as bribes in the hopes of getting their petition favorably handled...but this wouldn't always be guaranteed. (iirc, there's a cueniform tablet saying that a pair of sandals "in the greek style" had been brought to a king in the Middle East as a gift, and that said king had ordered them returned, though the reason why was not written down, wrong size, wrong person, wrong petition, who knows?)

The king's taxes would have to be assessed, with reports coming in and orders going out across the kingdom at certain times of year. This could be in the form of coin, crafted goods, or raw resources such as grain, lumber, ore ingots, etc. He would have to see to whatever passed for a standing army, making sure from time to time that they were being kept well-trained and well-armed--not all kings or kingdoms or eras had a standing army! But there would be a group of warriors whom the king would be able to call upon, professional or voluntary (or voluntold, as the case may be).

This is because one of the duties of a king (at least a good or reasonably competent one) would be to ensure the kingdom--ts peoples, livestock, resources, borders, etc--were kept as safe as possible from invasions, raiders, roadside banditry, random skirmishes between disgruntled nobles, possible uprisings, etc.

Another duty (presuming good or competent) would be to engage in diplomacy both within (disgruntled neighboring nobles) and without (neighboring nations, potential trade partners farther away, etc) their lands. This could involve sending diplomatic couriers with letters, or it could involve sending spies to integrate and ingratiate their way into the ranks of the persons or groups trying to be spied upon and/or influenced in certain ways.

Queen Elizabeth I of England had a very widespread network of spies and informants throughout most of her reign, and engaged in diplomacy while wielding the weapons of knowledge and influence upon her opponents--not necessarily her enemies every time, but her opponents. (Mind you, she also had a temper at times, and could make threats with the best of them, but most often she chose to try things diplomatically to start, at least from what I understand.)

One more thing to consider when it comes to Medieval Europe and the monarchy. The Church's power stretched everywhere--even after Protestantism got started!--so a monarch would be expected to bow to the religious expectations of piety, etc. They'd be expected to pray near-daily, would certainly be expected to attend masses, and would without a doubt be expected (pressured or coaxed) into giving gifts to the Church.

When King Henry VIII got pissed off at the Catholic Church (and was strapped for cash), he did an about-face to Protestantism so fast, there were monasteries and churches in England literally in the midst of upgrades and renovations that got informed all the Church lands belonged to the king now, so bugger off, but leave all the valuable silks and gold and silver behind, kthxbai! *doorslam!* That was because the Church held a lot of lands, and a lot of wealth, and the king was tired of not having all that land and wealth himself.

In earlier periods, the fear of Excommunication was strong, because Christianity was what tied disparate peoples together...gingerly and fragilely in many cases, but even if you couldn't speak each other's language, you could mumble along the Latin phrases for the prayers and services of a mass, and your unintelligible buddy over there would know and nod along and mumble them, too, hey, you do have something in common!

In later periods, when trade became quite widespread and strong, when secular interactions could hold together alliances, not just the "we're all in this together as fellow worshippers," then it became easier to break away from the Church's hold, and to not fear excommunication so much. (Shunning can be a powerful social activity regulator.) So that's something to consider: how strong is the influence of the local religion(s) in your area? The heart of Byzantium, Constantinople, had many religions working and living together for years. A lot of that was live-and-let-live in attitude. Other areas were very...fanatical...about their specific local belief systems, and so the local sovereign would be expected to go along with that, or be trampled by the zealotry of their population base.

...As you can see, there is quite a lot to consider. The daily life wouldn't always be the exact same 9-to-5 office hours, but there were certain rhythms to the day, the week, the season (life was very much seasonal in medieval times), and the passing of each year. But in many ways, there would be many similarities.

#answers #a day in the life of a king #so much to cover!

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bluebellhairpin · 5 years

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Ocean Eyes

Arthur Curry/Aquaman X Siren!Reader

A/N: Lol, I finally watched Aquaman. The eye candy in that, wow lemme tell you-! - Nemo

Song: ‘ocean eyes’ by Billie Eilish

Summary: After being washed into a lagoon after a storm, you’re found by a half-bread Altantean called Arthur. He helps you escape, but not after some cost.

Masterlist

The ocean was your home.

The people in it were yours. Even if they didn’t want you, they were still yours.

In your world of seas, the Atlanteans were the ones that ruled it, and as far as the line of power went, you were pretty low on it.

Atlanteans were up top, then fishermen, sea creatures, sirens like yourself, then the creatures of the deep. The only thing on the list of power after you was the monsters, which didn’t give your kind a good name.

You were a siren, one of the creatures of the not-so-deep deep, and no one liked you. You were all bumpy scales, long dark tails, pointed teeth, spiked fins and big black eyes. By appearance along you weren’t approachable, and by the grizzly stories told of your kind by both those on land and in water you were marked as completely wild.

But as the tides changed, a storm brewed, and you met someone who completely changed that.

----------

You woke groggy. The water around you was warm, and moving slower than normal. You could see the startings of light coming from above the surface. That already set off alarm bells in your mind, not used to being so close to the surface meant your eyes weren’t used to it. The fact the space you were in seemed rather small, also meant that you’d have nowhere to run if a human came.

You started exploring the place you’d found yourself in, and decided it was a lagoon of sorts. While some areas were shallow, others were deeper and lead to caves. But in short you were stuck. The storm that got you in the lagoon caused waves that were much bigger than they were now, and you had no way of climbing over the sand or jumping the rock walls without being seen.

Obviously you started to panic, if any humans found you you’d surely be killed or shipped off to live in a glass container for other humans to laugh and oogle at.

A splash from the water nearby made you snap out of your panic, instead moving to find someplace darker to hide.

You had no idea what caused the noise, but being so close to land meant it could be a human. And it was a human, but something in your mind told you he wasn’t going to hurt you, not unless you gave him a reason to.

You kept watching him from your hiding spot, watching as he moved permissively through the water as if he belonged there. Once he spotted you, you swam off, slinking back into the darker parts of the lagoon in hopes that the human didn’t follow. The problem was that he did, and did so rather quickly.

Not only did he follow you were no free-diving human would, but he seemed to be breathing, and it only worried you more that he then spoke.

“What are you?” he asked, letting himself float in the middle of the slight trench in the lagoons center. He let you circle him, and he looked tense as if you might be a predator, you didn’t want him to think that so you stopped in front of him.

“You’re an Atlantean?” you asked, ignoring his question in turn for your own. He smiled and shook his head, eyes squinting as he tried to look at you in the darkness.

“Not really.” he started, “I’m a half-bread. They don’t like me too much.” You made a small ‘oh’, letting out a breath. “So are you going to answer my question?” he asked, smile turning smug.

You moved forward, letting the little light that reached where you were hit your head and upper-half. You saw him shrink back slightly, looking at you in disbelief before cautiously moving forward to look at your closer.

“I’m a bit of a monster.” you said, tone light seeing as you felt he could take a joke well enough.

“I’ve seen monsters.” he said, shaking his head again. “You’re not half as bad as what they are.” As he finished speaking you moved around to circle him. Now getting closer you found how different you were to an Atlantean.

For one atlanteans didn’t have scales or dorsal, pectoral and pelvic fins. From what you saw, the color in their eyes was less, and barely any of their teeth were as sharp as yours. And with your tail, you were almost a half length longer than he was.

“You’re nothing like the fishermen.” he mumbled, and you shot around to meet him face to face, now a lot closer than before.

“Don’t,” you started, eyes narrow compared to his wide ones, “ever compare us to them. It’s unfair.”

“Us? I still don’t even know who you are.”

“A siren. Whoever is left of us stay hidden, it’s not like I’d expect you to know.” you said, moving away into the shadows again.

When you turned around to check on him, he’d disappeared.

----------

You didn’t see him for another three days, not that you expected to see him at all due to your abrupt conversations end before. It was either he didn’t visit the lagoon often or you were too busy trying to find a way out before humans found you.

As the three days passed, more and more humans appeared at the lagoon shallows during the day, you guessed since it was summer that they went near water to cool down like other land animals.

Your time in the lagoon was wearing thin, and with every day that passed you felt more and more likely to be found.

When the half-Atlantean came back, he seemed surprised to see you.

“What’re you still here for?” he asked, starting the conversation with another question. You shrugged.

“Too little ways to get out. Too many humans. Too little area for error. I could go on, but I won't.” you said, swimming in circles to ease some of your nerves.he nodded to your words as you spoke.

“How’d you get here to begin with?”

“Storm. High tide. Too close to shore like the idiot I am.” he thought at your words.

“I could help you get out.” he looked at you, eyes clean and understanding. “Tonight.”

----------

You waited under the surface near one of the rock boundaries.

He’d explained everything to you that afternoon, telling you his plan and his name.

Arthur would alert you to him being there, then you’d be free to make the jump over the wall. You’d felt you could jump before, but the wall was high, and sharp, and you didn’t want to get spotted. So Arthur would keep watch, direct anyone who came close away, and meet you once you were over the wall.

It was a seamless plan. Perfect in a way. But you should’ve guessed with a creature like you, after having met someone as kind and judge-less as Arthur, that something was set to go wrong.

And it did.

Not only did another summer storm roll in, dry and thunderous and billowing wind faster and faster and the minutes ticked on, but someone did come. They came to the lagoon, and they’d come for you.

Not that you’d noticed they came, not until you were above water, halfway over the wall.

You were shot down from your jump to freedom and open seas, landing on the rocks at an awkward angle that caused your arm to hurt, and a searing hot pain in your tail that definitely wasn't there before. Through the wind, the rain, and the waves you could see Arthur on the banks nearby, beating a man again and again while two more lay on the sand getting drenched with rain.

With your chest heaving and tail completely aching, you managed to pull yourself into the water with a dull splash, welcoming the cold and salt like a long-needed embrace.

With a heaving chest, you swam your was to a cliff face, near enough that Arthur would find you, but not close enough that the others would until daylight.

You clung to the rocks like a lifeline, and in a way they were, seeing as without them the waves could push you right back into the lagoon from where you came.

You didn’t even notice Arthur was with you until he tried to ‘fix’ whatever was causing you all the pain. Letting out a yelp, you let go of the rocks, sliding back into the water with Arthur following.

“(y/n), look at me.” he said, grabbing your face in his hands to push your eyes to look into his. “You got harpooned. I’m gonna need you to be really brave.”

----------

When he told you to be brave, you expected him to just pull the harpoon out of your tail. But when you woke, you found that you were somewhere you’d never seen before.

When you managed to sit up, the view from in front of you was something you’d never even imagined seeing. So much for the Atlanteans not liking Arthur that much.

You moved, finding your tail healed enough that you could swim at a slow pace, and made your way to the window. Below creatures of all kinds swam, buildings of all sizes were around, and you wished so much that you’d be allowed to stay, even for a little longer. But you figured that now you were awake the Atlanteans would want you gone.

A door behind you opened, and in came Arthur, along with another Atlantean, a fisherman, and some guards. You swam closer to the opposite wall, trying to put distance between yourself and the group. Your entire demeanor was tense, fin flicking back and forth, telling them you’d want nothing more than for them to go away or to simply be released back into the open ocean.

The fisherman swam forward, holding a hand out to you in a way someone would help a creature that was scared.

“I am Princess Scales, of the Fishermen. I want to help you.” Scales said, speaking softly, “You already know Arthur. With him is Nuidis Vulko. They won't hurt you either.”

“I can tell. Those behind them I don’t think are as harmless as they’re trying to seem.” you said, following the wall and swimming a little closer to the group.

“(y/n), please.” Arthur said, moving to stop a few breaths in front of you. “We both know you could thrash them, but give them the benefit of the doubt.” he added, quietly smiling at you. You looked over his shoulder at Vulko and the guards, sending a sharp-toothed hiss at the latter before turning back to Arthur.

“Can’t I just go?” you mumbled.

“Well,” Scales started, almost anxiously wringing her fingers together as she looked at you, “Times have changed, and thanks to Arthur the Atlanteans all want to meet you, They-”

“So they can poke fun and mock me. Study me like the monster I am. Cage me just like a humans would if they’d gotten to me before he did.” you spat, pointing at Arthur, now understanding why he was being so nice. “I should’ve known you’d be just as bad as everyone else.”

“That’s not it-”

“It’s not? That what it sure looks like!”

“Arthur.” Vulko said, stopping Arthur before he spoke further. “(y/n), I understand that you could be feeling trapped, but like Princess Scales said, times have changed.”

“How much?”

---------

After a lengthy discussion about morals and times changing, you were reluctantly pulled along to a much bigger room. One whose walls were lined up to the brim with Atlanteans who were waiting to see you. You looked ahead and saw that there was a throne, but it was empty.

“To whom am I to speak to if there’s no one here?” you quietly asked Arthur. He smiled at you, and then you realized.

It all made sense. Surely Atlanta wouldn’t have let you in with a half-bread unless they were special. Arthur was their king, he could do with you whatever he wanted.

“People of Atlanta,” Arthur started, addressing the crowds and yet looking at you the whole time. “Meet the siren.”

#arthur curry x reader #aquaman x reader #arthur curry imagine #aquaman imagine #dc x reader #dc imagine

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popwasabi · 5 years

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“They Called Us Enemy”: George Takei Recalls Interment and Its Cautionary History

Written by George Takei, Justin Eisinger, Steven Scott

Illustrated by Harmony Becker

This past weekend I got to make my annual pilgrimage to the nerd Mecca capital of the world; San Diego Comic-Con.

It’s a fun and often exhausting experience between panel hopping to see your favorite movie or TV show actors speak and standing in line often for hours just to see them or to buy merch in the Dealer’s hall.

(At least it wasn’t hot this year.)

Every year though, somehow or another, I always meet at least one celebrity be it intentionally or accidentally. Last year I got to run into Billy West, best known for his voice acting roles on Ren &Stimpy and Futurama, the year before that it was MMA legend Josh Barnett who is a huge comic book geek and before that I met my all-time favorite TV composer Bear McCreary. This year I got to not only meet, but cross a massive name off my bucket list, in George Takei.

(^It me...)

Takei needs no introduction of course; the outspoken OG Star Trek alum is now firmly an internet personality of sorts and hugely popular figure amongst my generation and nerdom alike. But he wasn’t there at Comic-Con to talk about Star Trek or any number of Science Fiction related items to his acting past. No, this time he was here to promote his new graphic novel “They Called Us Enemy” based on a much darker period in his life; the infamous internment of Japanese Americans in concentration camps across the country during World War II.

Takei has never been shy about his opinions on politics and society and definitely very open about his time in those camps but this graphic novel helps not only shed a light on his own personal experience there and all the nuanced feelings that came from that but just how deplorable Executive Order 9066 was on American History.

Now, with the recreation of concentration camps this time along the southern border indefinitely imprisoning migrants seeking asylum in our country, Takei’s graphic novel reminds us all why this is so wrong and why we should not turn our backs again.

“They Called Us Enemy” is one-part history book detailing key events, people and often distressing quotes from our politicians on Japanese-American concentration camps but three-parts a visual and written history of Takei’s family journey from pre-WWII internment to the present. Through his parents, his father a first generation Japanese American, his mother second generation to how the events of Pearl Harbor unlawfully stripped them of their dignity, they try their best to make sense of the situation while keeping their children from baring the weight of this shameful period of history. What is an “extended vacation” for Takei and his siblings is a prolonged agonizing experience of doubt, humiliation and degradation for his parents and the toll it takes on his father especially is told through the panels of this graphic novel.

I think the most astounding thing about this graphic novel is that it isn’t especially bitter. It’s upsetting for sure, and bitter in parts, as Takei certainly wants his reader to feel how his family felt through this period in American history but he makes a point of showing how inevitably in all things in America, the wheels of justice may be slow but they do not stop moving forward as long as there are those willing to fight for it. How Takei’s family handles this humiliating and degrading experience is both brave and sad all at once. Takei, for his and his younger siblings, part are completely ignorant of the situation they’ve been forced into and his parents do their best to keep things as normal as possible for them through this ordeal treating it as a long “vacation” for them. They do this despite the fact they’ve been forcibly torn away from their homes, given no time to pack their things, given nametags like cattle and forced to sleep and live in conditions befitting of farm animals.

America may not have led anyone into death camps, during this period, as the Germans did with the Jews but as Takei points out it was still based on fear of a perceived “enemy” and still forced Japanese Americans into these horrid conditions and to do things that our constitution and Bill of Rights explicitly states against for its citizens.

But for Takei, as a child back then, it was an adventure of sorts for he and his siblings that was shielded by his parents to keep him from grasping the full scope of what was really going on. In this way, the graphic novel is somewhat bittersweet; sweet that George and his siblings through the tireless effort of their parents was able to enjoy some level of a childhood within the camps but bitter that as he grew older he finally understood why he was there.

Through Takei’s writings and Harmony becker’s wonderful illustrations we get a grasp of the simultaneous joy and pain that Takei associates with this period in his life; how his mom, when given little time to grab her own personal belongings when the soldiers came, grabbed only things for her children such as sweets and a sewing machine to fashion them new clothes in the camps as to keep their childhoods alive, and how his father helped organize camp leadership and helped lead these disillusioned Americans who had no idea what the future held or if there was a future there at all.

It was in these camps in fact that Takei discovered his love for acting and theater, as funny as that may sound, as camp members were able to show movies within its barb-wired fences. Takei would use this inspiration when his family returned to Los Angeles to become an actor down the line and eventually take up his famous role as Sulu in “Star Trek” and the reason largely was because of the camps. As the graphic novel states Gene Rodenberry (Star Trek’s original creator) wanted a show that envisioned a future where a diverse cast of people worked together for the benefit of all humanity and having an Asian American not only be present in this cast but be a resourceful, responsible lead was paramount. Takei understanding how taking on a role that could give Asian Americans agency in popular media wanted the part immediately as it could help show the country that people who looked like him weren’t the enemy.

Fifty plus years later and he is still advocating for that representation and need for diversity today.

(Being God damn fabulous at it too)

The graphic novel does lay out many things that most average Americans are probably not familiar with; the fact that much of these Japanese-Americans belongings were liquefied and sold off after they were taken from their homes, that many of them tried to join the fight against Japan after Pearl Harbor but were turned away because of their race, and of course after the US finally needed more troops they conscripted members of these very same camps, people they had openly vilified and wrongly detained, to enlist later to become the 442nd Battalion the most decorated group of its kind during World War II.

It’s again infuriating and uplifting all at once; as Takei points out the people who chose to enlist from the camps were as much patriots and heroes as those who chose not to and who could blame them? Many Japanese Americans saw it as an opportunity to prove they were indeed Americans and show the country that had wronged them that they were as patriotic as their white counterparts. For the others it was an act of civil disobedience showing that they didn’t need prove anything to the country that had turned their backs on them.

Takei’s family chose the latter in this regard and nearly lost everything in the process.

The path toward justice is often a long and degrading road for victims and the unjustly accused. For Japanese Americans during this time it took damn near half a century before reparations were made and by then many of its oldest prisoners had passed away not knowing that America had admitted their guilt.

Its sad and if reading about this part of history and seeing what’s happening now at the border doesn’t make your blood boil, I’m not sure what will.

“They Call Us Enemy” does a great job of not only informing Americans on what happened during this time period and Takei’s very personal story in between all that, but offers a stark warning about repeating the mistakes of the past as we are now at the border. We cannot keep going with this cycle of endlessly vilifying folks for simply looking the part of “the enemy” regardless of their legal status or us being at war with countries that happen to look like them.

I’m of the mind that people deserve inalienable rights regardless of citizenry. Locking up people and throwing away the key indefinitely and ripping children from the arms of their screaming mothers (Something we didn’t even do to Japanese Americans) without trial is FUCKING WRONG PERIOD and ill-befitting of country that self-labels itself as the “greatest” on Earth.

If we are to pretend we are the good guys in any of these types of conflicts we better start acting like it. FUCKING NAZIS in Nuremberg were given trials after World War II; you cannot tell me an “illegal” doesn’t deserve a chance at a hearing.

I’m often very angry and bitter about the state of the country these days and where we appear to be trending as a society but Takei’s book is not all doom in gloom when it comes to its warning on where we currently stand on justice. As the graphic novel states:

Our strength as a country is that we are capable of change, we are capable of becoming the pillars of democracy and justice that we profess to be through the valiant efforts of those who fight for it. Whether it was the Abolitionists of the Civil War period, Martin Luther King during the Civil Rights era or for these wrongly interred folks, Fred Korematsu, Yuri Kochiyama, Wayne Collins, or Daniel K. Inouye, we will always find a way to move forward as long as brave individuals come together to fight for what’s right.

We can be those brave individuals too, so long as we stand up, voice our disapproval and move the needle of our democracy. We still have all the power here to affect change. We cannot let the wrongs of the past continue on in our present, our democracy and the very fabric of decency, respect, and justice depend on it. Takei’s family and 120,000 plus Japanese Americans who suffered through this depend on us being better for the present and future.

Don’t turn your back on it. Not now, not ever.

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missjosie27 · 4 years

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Year 2 Part 5- Quidditch for the Ages

Hey, guys!

Welcome to my 5th chapter for Year 2. Spoiler Alert: it’s my first time writing a Quidditch match so I hope I did it justice.

As a warning, I do hope my readers who are Slytherin can forgive me xD But in all seriousness what happens in the story now is a backdrop for growth and understanding later. Especially for David. I do not intend for Slytherin to be the ‘evil’ house in this story. But it will take time.

Enjoy!

For the second Halloween in a row David found himself in the hospital wing, only this time it was for an injury suffered by someone else, notably his best friend.

Madam Pomfrey had appeared suspicious when he gave the explanation for what happened, which was basically that Rowan wasn’t feeling well and was exhibiting ‘flu-like’ systems. This was definitely stretching his fibbing ability, as common colds and the flu could be cured readily by most trained mediwizards and staff. But though Rowan woke up, he was still shivering heavily, multiple blankets wrapped around his body, sipping hot chocolate to warm his body. Thankfully, the head of the Hospital Wing didn’t ask too many questions, allowing him to stay for a brief period.

“I’m sorry this happened, Rowan,” David apologized in a low voice, so Madam Pomfrey couldn’t hear them. “It’s my fault.”

“D-Don’t worry about it,” the Indian preteen reassured him through chattering teeth. “We both wanted to find this vault, remember? It’s important to you.”

David rubbed his hands together and looked away. Rowan would be fine, but an unpleasant guilty sensation spread through him. Losing Jacob had already been painful enough and that had been his fault too. He didn’t want to gain back a brother but lose a friend.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, honestly, trying to redirect the feelings of shame.

“Like I g-got hit with the Knight B-Bus,” Rowan responded, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. “One made out of pure ice.”

“Madam Pomfrey will have you out of here in no time. She’s never failed anyone.”

Rowan smiled to again assure his friend he was not angry nor sore over the situation.

“I t-told you, d-don’t worry about me. I should b-be back in a day or s-so. Go out and l-learn as much as you c-can in my absence.”

The talk came to an end as Madam Pomfrey gently ushered him out, saying that her patients needed rest (though most simply needed buckets after eating too many sweets). As soon as the hospital wing doors were shut, he was surprised to see Penny standing outside. Her normally bubbly features were colored with worry and even a bit of disappointment.

“David, what happened?” she asked simply.

“Merlin’s beard, Penny, how did you know where we were?”

“You forget, I know almost everything around here. But it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. You and Rowan didn’t show up for the feast.”

David smacked a hand in the middle of his forehead. He should have known Penny of all people would be the first to notice them gone, given that her group of friends and his were virtually synonymous. She had an eye for this sort of thing.

“I assumed you were going after the vaults again,” she continued when he didn’t respond.

“You caught me, okay?” he admitted, not bothering to lie. “Are you angry or something?”

“I’m not angry, Dave,” Penny told him, taking a few steps forward. “I was just worried and wanted to make sure two friends of mine were okay. I take it Rowan isn’t?”

“He’s fine but it’s still my fault. We found the vault door, and I became reckless. I touched it and it immediately began firing off some kind of freezing spell and one them hit Rowan. Got him here as fast as I could.”

“Well that’s good he’s okay, but wasn’t Madam Pomfrey suspicious?”

“She was, but as far as I know she didn’t alert Dumbledore or any of the other Professors. Told her he was feeling ill and left it at that.”

Penny breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s strangely fortunate. You definitely don’t want anyone else finding out, there’s enough competition out there as it is. Especially with Merula. I keep hearing rumors about her and none of them good. They say she’s recruiting her own gang to try and find the vaults and still wants you out of the way.”

“What else is new?” David groaned. “Well, anyway, thanks for letting me know about this Penny.”

But she stopped him again as she gazed into him with those sparkling, blue eyes that reminded one of an innocent doe.

“Dave, you can’t keep doing this by yourself.”

“That’s why I have Rowan with me.”

“He’s just one person and he narrowly avoided getting seriously hurt. What if you’re next?”

The twelve year old Gryffindor wasn’t really concerned with his own safety, not in the conscious sense. He had never considered he might become injured or fall victim in the quest to find this vault. Jacob was the main focus, not him.

But then again, Penny also had a point.

“You’re right. I do need to be more careful, but I promise nothing will happen to me.”

“We both know that’s a promise you can’t keep,” she told him seriously. “I’m only asking you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t keep me out, Dave. Next time you plan on entering a cursed vault, let me know so I can help.”

The offer was so genuine, it overrode his desire to protect her. How could one turn down Penny Haywood? Moments such as these showed why she clearly was a Hufflepuff through and through.

“Okay, Penny. I will.”

An enormous hug and an even bigger smile indicated from the blonde indicated all was well.

“Thanks, Dave! Please tell me when Rowan gets out of the hospital wing.”

Despite the warm and fuzzies from Penny, there were more questions to be asked and many more to be answered. What was inside the vault? Did it have anything to do with the vision he received when he touched the door? And what did Voldemort have to do with this?

Is this what Jacob went through when he tried to find the vaults?

Deciding he didn’t want to know the answer, suddenly realizing he was quite famished David shoved his wand back into his pocket and went to see if there was anything left to eat at the feast. Maybe Tonks had saved him a treacle tart or two.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tension ran high within the school the next few days, but for once the reason was not due to cursed ice. The first Quidditch match of the season was coming and it featured the two biggest rivals within the interhouse competition: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

Anyone who knew anything about Hogwarts knew that the two houses had a history going back to the infamous duel between Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, which eventually led to the latter of the two leaving the school. In the modern context, students of each house generally disliked each other, and it sometimes graduated to outright hatred. Throw Quidditch into the equation and that animosity often boiled over into war. The bold, brave, athletic lions versus the cunning, calculating, underhanded serpents.

David, being on one side of that rivalry, was not exactly unbiased but he didn’t particularly care. His experience with Slytherin was not a positive one thus far, the primary culprit being Merula Snyde and her constant antagonism towards him and his friends. Being a mere second year, he was not the main target of any of the older Slytherins’ ire but it seemed that no matter what he did, she would never cease in her relentless bullying and badgering. The afternoon potions class Friday prior to the match only served to fuel his own animosity towards the silver and green.

Rowan had still not been released from the hospital wing, so he was left on his own to complete the brew Snape gave them for the day. David was not unskilled in the subject but it was difficult to focus on your potion when there was a constant thorn in your side sitting at your table.

“Where’s Khanna, Grant? I still see he’s noticeably absent.” Merula taunted him through the steam of the bubbling cauldron.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” David shot back, doing his best to ignore her. She was one of only a few people capable of getting underneath his skin and to do so now would be unwise with Snape watching.

“Oh, please. It doesn’t take a genius to know you and that four eyed creatine were off searching for the vaults during the feast. He’s probably still trying to unfreeze himself in the hospital wing.”

“Well we agree one thing, Merula, you’re certainly no genius.”

The Slytherin girl ducked as Snape walked by, adding a pinch of unicorn horn to her potion before returning to her taunting.

“Full of jokes but no substance as per usual, Grant. You’ve found nothing, but I’ve been investigating the vaults myself and you wouldn’t believe what I found.”

“I’m sure it’s quite fascinating. Much like your inability to shut the hell up.”

But true to form, Merula was both stubborn and relentless.

“Khanna is gone but I’ve been working with people to locate and break the vault curse before you. Whatever is inside will belong to me, so you may as well give up now.”

So, Penny was correct in her information that Merula had her own little posse. Of course, the Hufflepuff was rarely wrong but to hear it from the Slytherin herself was more concerning. At the risk of going down the rabbit hole, David took the bait and indulged her.

“What makes you think you’re going to open the vaults before me? I bet you’re no closer than I am.”

“I’m willing to whatever it takes, Grant. That’s the difference between you and I.”

“The difference,” he said, while stirring his cauldron counterclockwise. “Is that I’m merely trying to find my brother. You on the other hand are like every other Slytherin that ever lived- selfish, deceitful, and power hungry. So stick that in your pipe and smoke it.”

Merula gave him her usual nasty leer.

“You’ll be regretting those words soon enough.”

“Or what?”

“Or else,” cut in a smooth, silky, dangerous voice. “I shall have to give both of you detention for not finishing your work on time and disrupting my class.”

Their conversation had gone on far too long, evidently, as the greasy, beaked nose of Professor Snape bore down upon them, his expression far from pleased.

“Sorry, Professor,” David apologize in an attempt at damage control. Snape was not quite as passionate a Quidditch fan as McGonagall, but he never passed up any chance to humiliate or show up the other houses. Non-Slytherins were extra careful not get on his bad side leading up to a match.

“I don’t need your sniveling excuses,” he dismissed sourly. “But what I do need is an explanation. Several ingredients from my private storeroom have been stolen in the last few days and I’ve received word you are the culprit. What do you have to say for yourself?

Dave couldn’t help but deliver a tongue in cheek response.

“And what makes you think it was me of all people?”

“Perhaps it’s in connection to your search for the cursed vaults? Or because you, like your brother, insist on testing the boundaries of this school and my patience? Whatever the reason, I have no desire to know what goes on in your warped, tiny mind. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t give you detention for the rest of the year.”

The rest of the class’s eyes were on them now, Ben looking quite afraid, while Charlie looked on apprehensively (Jae was already asleep by this point). But it wasn’t their reactions David keyed in on, rather it was Merula’s that gave everything away. Her eyes were alighted with malicious glee, a knowing smirk plastered across her face. It was then and there he knew she was the one behind this.

“I don’t know. But I would ask Merula given that she looks as though Christmas came early.”

That threw the second year Slytherin in for a loop as the malicious glee quickly evaporated into a frantic denial.

“Only someone as pathetic and desperate as you would try and pin this on me, Grant! You’re just as loony as your brother!”

Snape looked over at his pupil.

“Is this true, Miss Snyde? What credence do you give this accusation?”

“None,” she said but her response did not meet her eyes. “If I want to see him expelled it’s because he’s a disgrace and a danger to Hogwarts.”

David fully expected Snape, the most blatant in expressing favoritism towards his own house, to simply take Merula at her word and be done with it. Which is why what happened next came as a shock to everyone.

“I genuinely wish you weren’t lying.”

Merula’s eyes looked as though they might pop out of her head.

“Excuse me?!”

“As I have stated before you are an absolutely atrocious liar, especially for a Slytherin. You will stay after class to receive your punishment. The rest of you, finish up your potions, put them on my desk and get out.”

No one needed to be told twice. David, hardly believing his luck, was content to do as Snape instructed and followed the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins out of the door while Merula was forced to remain behind. But as he was about to head down the hallway, the preteen gave into temptation and placed himself at the edge of the stone wall close to the door. He needed to hear why he was not assigned the blame, and his rival faced the brunt of the potion master’s wrath.

“Professor,” he could hear Merula use a falsely innocent tone she only used to get out of trouble. “I don’t understand why I’m the one being punished. It was Grant, not me.”

“Save your pathetic explanations for whichever idiot among your posse has the time to listen.”

“But…I-”

“Do you really think I was blind to the fact that this was a scheme cooked up by you and your housemates? Or that when I was tipped off by that gigantic oaf Mr. Lee, I failed to notice traces of Boomslang skin on his hands? No, this was an ill-advised, foolhardy endeavor that was unworthy of even the lowliest of our house. And as such, you will come by every Friday evening to clean the storeroom you stole from until Christmas. Is that clear?”

Evidently, she did not, because Merula continued to argue.

“But Professor! You hate the Gryffindors and Grant! Why do I have to serve detention?”

“That is neither here nor there,” Snape growled, the anger increasing in his voice. “Our house prides itself on cunning and ambition. You possess the latter but not the former, Miss Snyde. Grant saw right through your attempt to frame him and the fact that he did means you didn’t even bother to cover your tracks. Consider today a test, a test that you failed.”

“But-”

“The next ‘but’ to come out of your mouth will ensure another Friday added to your lengthy detention sentence. Now, begin cleaning at once lest you continue to test my patience.”

That was all David needed to hear and the reaction was one of slight surprise and relief. Snape was punishing his own student not out of fairness but for being sloppy, which he supposed made sense. It also meant that he had time to visit Rowan later in the evening and with any luck, they’d be able to watch the Quidditch match tomorrow.

As he exited the dungeon, he came across an unsettling sight, however. Standing in the hallway, chewing some Drooble’s gum was the Slytherin girl known as Ismelda Murk, the one who had attacked Charlie on the train earlier in the year. She said nothing as he walked by, but carried a most wicked, frightening smile and never took her visible eye off him, her other eye shrouded by her shoulder length, black hair.

“Creepy,” David muttered to himself, but gave it no further thought as he made his way towards dinner. There was a Quidditch game to be played tomorrow and now more than ever did he want to beat Slytherin.

The lion did not concern itself with the schemes of snakes.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At last the day came and the sunny, crisp November morning was pulsing with excitement. Gryffindors and Slytherins alike donned their colors- jackets, jumpers, scarves, gloves, hats, flags, banners- it had all the feel of a classic in the making featuring Hogwarts’ two biggest rivals.

It was all the more surreal for David, who grew up listening to Quidditch but had never seen a match even at the most rudimentary level. It was another activity his mum severely restricted growing up. But there were no parents here to tell him ‘no’ and little to contain his excitement. He was ready for this.

Adding to the general atmosphere was the fact that the Gryffindor Quidditch team had two new extraordinarily talented members in Charlie Weasley and Skye Parkin. True to his word, it was the skill not the broom that earned the second eldest Weasley the spot of seeker. So proud was Professor McGonagall, she ended up ordering him a new comet series for proper matches. David had only heard rumors, but anyone who witnessed Charlie play was floored by the speed, quickness, and precision he possessed. True to his humble nature, his friend never talked much about his own Quidditch abilities but retained quiet confidence. If half of those rumors were true, Gryffindor was in good hands.

The second name among the new arrivals was Skye Parkin and this one generated even more buzz than Charlie. Skye was also a second year and was from the famous Parkin family, a clan hailing from the high hills of Scotland legendary for their long line of successful Quidditch players. So prominent they were, they had even founded their own Quidditch team, the Wigtown Wanderers.

Unlike most of the old families, the Parkins did not belong to any particular house and were spread out evenly at Hogwarts spanning the centuries. Her brothers had been placed in Ravenclaw and Slytherin respectively, but Skye was the only child who had inherited her father Ethan Parkin’s Gryffindor courage. Every bit as talented as her brothers, she was placed as a chaser and excelled in the natural instincts required for the spot- passing, positioning, and speed. So anticipated was her debut that some were saying she was better than her father at the same age.

In David’s personal opinion, that was quite a lot to put on a single twelve-year-old girl but he had seen Skye in class and at the lunch table on numerous occasions. She was truly fearless and did not blink at a challenge, even from older students. Notorious for her poor grades, she was not an academic favorite among the staff, but McGonagall had given her enough tutoring to ensure her grades were adequate enough to join the team, so determined she was to win the cup.

In addition to this good news was that Rowan was finally well enough to leave the hospital wing. Though Quidditch was not his forte, David managed to convince him some fresh air and healthy competition would be good after being cooped up in a ward for three days. Not to mention Bill would also be there cheering on his brother so it provided an extra incentive.

Waking up that morning, David wasted no time in getting dressed and making sure Rowan did the same.

“Ironic. I’m usually the one trying to get you out of bed,” his best friend grunted.

“Yeah but that’s for boring stuff. This is Quidditch!”

“Remind me again, why I should care?”

In a sequel of their first day at Hogwarts, it was David’s turn to throw a pillow at Rowan.

“Because we need to be there when we kick Slytherin’s arse.”

“….”

“Also, Bill’s going to be there.”

“Coming.”

It didn’t take long for the boys to get dressed, fill up on a breakfast of sausage and eggs, then head down to the pitch where the entire student body filed in. They found their seats in the Gryffindor section alongside Bill, Jae, Ben, and a few others.

“Dave, Rowan,” Bill greeted warmly. “Good to see you both. Grab a spot.”

“We’ll be standing up most of the time anyway,” Jae told them. “If this is anything like most Quidditch matches.”

“Or if you want to see,” Ben pointed out.

“Well I’ll certainly be on the edge of my seat given this is Charlie’s first match. He’s been dreaming of this moment for years, so I know how it important it is for him. Plus, I promised Fred and George full details in my letters.”

“Fred and George?” David asked, puzzled as to who he was referring to.

“My younger twin brothers,” Bill elaborated. “Tricky little devils they are, always up to no good. Constantly driving mum crazy,” he added with a laugh. “But they’re also aspiring Quidditch players themselves. They can’t see Charlie in person but it’s the next best thing.”

“Is this really such a big deal?” Ben wondered aloud. “I mean, I know we aren’t friends with the Slytherins but still.”

A half second later, one of the bigger Slytherins from the bleachers parallel to theirs shouted “Gryffindor sucks Abraxan cock!!!” while the rest of his friends laughed hysterically, pointing and jeering.

“Does that answer your question?” Bill asked rhetorically.

“Crushing Slytherin is the only thing that matters,” David affirmed. “Personally, I wouldn’t mind rubbing it in Merula’s face if only to get her to shut up.”

“You and that girl are something else,” the eldest Weasley chuckled. “But in all seriousness, we have the best chance at the cup this year since James Potter last played for Gryffindor. Skye Parkin is quite the sensation and my brother isn’t too shabby himself.”

“He’s that good?” Rowan pipped up.

“You guys don’t know Charlie like I do. Unless dragons are involved, Quidditch is his primary passion. He was zooming around the house with a toy broom from the time he was three. Trust me, he’s very good.”

A tap on the shoulder alerted them to the presence of Penny and her group consisting of Chiara, Tonks, and Diego, all of them donning the Gryffindor red and gold for this occasion.

“Hello you courageous Gryffindors,” Tonks quipped. For this occasion she had morphed her hair into a spiky, red and yellow mullet which was quite the sight to behold.

“Hey guys!” David said cheerfully. “Glad to see you’re supporting our side today.”

“Are you kidding? No one in their right mind would support Slytherin over Gryffindor,” Penny remarked making a sour face.

“Most of our house is supporting you today. As are the Ravenclaws,” Chiara informed them.

Indeed, she was right. Though not all of them chose to wear red and gold, most of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students were choosing to sit far from the Slytherins, who were congregating in their own little sphere.

“The Slytherins are, shall we say, not well liked among the rest of the school,” Diego shrugged. “They tend not to play fair or with honor, so I am told.”

“You’re giving them too much credit,” Penny replied to him, her normally chipper face again turning disdainful. “Slytherins almost never play fair.”

“Be that as it may, they still usually field a decent squad year after year,” Bill spoke sagely. “And they came in second last year to Ravenclaw. Titus Hammersmith is going to go the extra mile to ensure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah well Titus can sit on a pin. Personally, I’m just excited to watch Skye Parkin for the first time. I’ve heard she’s amazing!”

That caught David’s attention as he gazed over at the blonde.

“I didn’t know you were such a Quidditch fan, Penny.”

“Are you kidding? I know everything there is to know about it! And the Parkins are legends. That’s another reason I’m supporting Gryffindor today. Her dad is incredible, and I know she will be too.”

David laughed before glancing over at Rowan who looked noticeably uninspired.

“Cheer up, will ya?” he said while elbowing him playfully. “Match hasn’t even started yet and you already look as bored as I do in History of Magic.”

“I’m sorry, Dave. I guess sports just aren’t really my thing, you know? I’m more of a thinking kind of person when it comes to fun.”

“Just you wait, Rowan,” Bill encouraged. “By the end of the day you’ll have an appreciation for this. Quidditch is like nothing ever experienced before.”

Just then a loud, booming voice cut across the chatter, so loud in fact, it echoed across the pitch.

“Ladies and gentlemen I’d like to welcome you all to the beginning of the 1985-86 interhouse Quidditch season! With the first of the six matchups yet to come I can guarantee a 98.7 percent chance of excitement! Especially with these two notorious rivals, Gryffindor and Slytherin!”

Peering up into the booth, David saw a burly blond boy seated next to Professor McGonagall, megaphone in hand, the Sonorus charm in full effect. The enthusiasm espoused was only matched by the look of pure joy in his face, as though talking Quidditch was just as exciting as playing it.

“Who’s that?” Ben asked aloud.

“Murphy McNully,” Bill answered straight away. “Third year in our own house. Absolute nutter when it comes to Quidditch. Don’t get him started or he’ll never stop talking.”

“Why doesn’t he just play himself?” David joked.

“Because that chair isn’t just for kicks.”

Diego handed him the binoculars and indeed Murphy was not merely seated in a common chair, rather it appeared the chair was his main method of transportation as it was coupled with wheels on each side.

“Why does he need a wheelchair?”

“No one knows,” Jae said, tossing up his yellow hoodie to keep warm. “The way I heard it, if you ask why he clams up. Just about the only thing that gets him to shut his hole.”

“Rumor it was dark magic during the war,” Tonks whispered.

The speculation ended as a sudden whoosh alerted them to the arrival of the first team from the lockers.

“And here come the Gryffindor squad!” McNully announced with gusto. “Parkin, Barrett, Blishwick, McLaggen, Weasley, and Brown. Captained by Orion Amari!”

Cheers went up from seventy five percent of the stadium with only the hisses and boos from the Slytherins spoiling the unanimity. For David, the sight was amazing as he awed at witnessing actual Quidditch players race around the pitch. The red was quite distinctive, even in the glistening sun, the seven starters flying in an impressive V formation.

Another whoosh of wind announced the arrival of the infamous opponent which Murphy wasted no time in pointing out with almost equal gusto.

“And here are the Slytherins! Radcliffe, Rowle, Rosier, Chapman, Fernsby, and Burke. Captained by Titus Hammersmith!”

The cheers and jeers reversed this time, as the boos became louder while the screams of support were largely drowned out.

“This Orion Amari bloke looks like he already got hit with a bludger,” Tonks snickered as she passed the binoculars to Chiara and Penny who also giggled.

David couldn’t deny that she had a point. Upon closer inspection, the Gryffindor captain had the face of someone who was ready to soak up sunshine at a beach, not an intense, grueling Quidditch match.

“Orion is a bit eccentric; I’ll give you that,” Bill laughed. “But looks can be deceiving, he knows the game and he knows how to get the best out of people.”

“So how come we only won a single game last year?” Rowan asked.

“He was only made captain halfway through his fourth year. Plus, they didn’t have my brother or Skye Parkin,” the eldest Weasley added with a confident smile.

The referee Madam Hooch approached the center of the pitch to release the bludgers and the snitch while simultaneously giving warning to each team.

“I don’t need to remind you I want a nice, clean game. Captains, shake hands.”

Orion and Titus did so, though the latter definitely looked like he was trying to crush the former’s hand. However, if Orion felt anything, he did not show it, his mellow expression unchanging. For the lanky, blond Slytherin, his face turned to a scowl indicating his displeasure and dislike.

Without further delay, Madam Hooch threw the quaffle into the air and the match was on.

“And there goes Slytherin in their main line of attack with the three R’s, better known as Radcliffe, Rowle, and Rosier, a top of the line chaser squad from last season who nearly set the record for the most goals in a single season with fifty seven. Rowle ducks and passes it to Rosier, dodges the bludger and flips it to Radcliffe, she shoots...!”

Thankfully, for the Gryffindors, the keeper Liam Brown punched the ball away and into the hands of Orion who headed up the field.

“Spectacular play by the Gryffindor keeper, and there was only about a 37 percent chance of a save there!” McNully continued to ramble. “And there goes Amari and my word folks, he’s broom surfing!”

Indeed, it was an impressive display of skill as Orion smoothly navigated his way past the Slytherin defense despite their attempts to knock him off his broom. But instead of taking a shot on goal, he feigned a throw, cutting back around and tossing it back to a wide open Skye Parkin, who took the quaffle and put it through the main hoop for the first points of the game.

“And there you have it, folks! Rookie sensation Skye Parkin, daughter of the world famous Ethan Parkin, with the first points of the game and of her career here at Hogwarts!” McNully shouted excitedly. “Gryffindor leads 10-0.”

David and company cheered loudly while Penny jumped up and down screaming, “I told you she was good! I told you!”

And that wasn’t the end of the scoring. Bill had proven correct about Orion and his methods. Though he was unorthodox, the sheer unpredictability of his moves meant that the Slytherin beaters were constantly missing their mark and the chasers could move with ease. Before long, he and the other Gryffindor chaser, Ruth Barrett, had scored another goal apiece, making the score 30-0 in the Lions’ favor.

“It’s really something, isn’t it?” David yelled over the noise to Rowan.

“Orion and Skye are amazing,” came the agreement.

Indeed, the fireworks only continued from there. Slytherin did manage to put a goal past Liam Brown to get on the board, but the celebration was short lived as Skye managed to punch the quaffle out of Rowle’s hand, snag it, and race single handedly towards the goal. Dodging the attempted bumps from Deanna Radcliffe, Skye slipped underneath her resurfacing on top and scored on the right-hand hoop for her second goal.

“Did you see that?! Merlin’s beard did you see that?!” McNully exclaimed. “By George what a move that was!”

It was so crafty, no one on Slytherin had any time to react. And judging by the look on Skye’s face, David knew she was loving every second of this. She was truly in her element.

The Gryffindor defense continued to remain solid throughout the game with the beaters McLaggen and Blishwick scattering Slytherin’s three Rs time and time again. But the real story was Skye, Orion, and Ruth, who as a collective were nearly impossible to stop. Seeing a live game for the first time, David began to get a grasp of what made this unit so incredible. Orion was fluid and freelance, but always aware of where his teammates were, his passing skills exemplary. Ruth Barrett was a model of efficiency, there was no aspect of her game above the others, rather she was simply consistent at everything- passing, scoring, and flying. And then there was Skye. Just twelve years old, she was running circles around the Slytherins, too fast to catch and too agile to hit with a bludger. Together, the three were making their opponents look silly. It wasn’t until the first dirty play of the game that Skye’s one weakness was exposed.

After scoring her fourth goal to make the score 90-20 in favor of the Lions, she failed to notice Hammersmith coming straight towards her whilst she celebrated.

WHAM!

“Look out folks! The Slytherin captain has just attempted to knock Parkin off her broom and into next week! That’s an obvious foul which no doubt Madam Hooch will be quick to call!”

He was on the money as the hawk eyed referee began to berate Hammersmith for the foul while Skye attempted to stop herself from careening off the pitch. Eventually she managed to hang on and right herself, flustered, but otherwise unharmed.

Boos rained down on Hammersmith, who snarled at his detractors.

“I told you they don’t fight fair,” Diego remarked.

“Crawl back to your hole, wanker!” Penny screamed down at him, causing some of the boys to raise their eyebrows.

“She really is a fan,” Jae muttered.

But she wasn’t the only one. David was yelling insults too and even Rowan got in on the act at the blatant attempt at sabotage. Some of the Gryffindors began throwing food and other objects as Madam Hooch tried to wrest the situation back under control.

Though Skye was not hurt, her teammates did not take kindly to the insult. In retaliation, Henry McLaggen crushed a bludger at Hammersmith while the penalty shot was being set up, catching him painfully in the stomach. Rowle then flew up and punched him in the back of the head while Liam Brown rushed over and caught the Slytherin with a right hook.

At this point, things were getting out of hand and Hooch was screeching her whistle for the ruckus to cease, but it was an unlikely source who stepped in to prevent an all out brawl. Orion flew down to the commotion and put himself in the middle, separating Gryffindor and Slytherin alike. David couldn’t tell what was saying but it had the desired effect as his teammates eventually backed down, as did their opponents.

“What on earth could he have said to diffuse that?” Ben asked, shocked as everyone else.

“I have no idea, but whatever it was, he deserves a medal for special services to the school,” Bill observed, grabbing the binoculars from Diego.

“Are the Slytherins always this dirty?” Rowan asked him.

“Not always. Sometimes they’re so good they don’t need to. But Hammersmith doesn’t fool around. If he can gain a psychological edge, he will.”

“I just hope Skye is okay,” Chiara said quietly for the first time.

“She better be,” Penny growled. “Or else I’m going to pay a personal visit to the Slytherin common room tonight.”

David, however, looked up at Skye and saw that not only was she fine, she was glowing. Far from being angry, she gave a laugh and took the quaffle for a penalty shot. Calm and collected, she easily punched the ball past the Slytherin keeper Jessica Burke to make the score 100-20.

“Seems fine to me,” he said aloud.

Nothing confirmed this more than what Skye did next. A confident smirk plastered across her face she rushed past Hammersmith, causing him to flinch which garnered a laugh from the crowd.

“She’s more than fine,” Tonks snickered. “She’s got the whole Slytherin team eating out the palm of her hand.”

Play resumed and with Madam Hooch on the lookout for any more shenanigans, both sides did not attempt any more roughhousing. However, the Slytherin defense seemed to double their efforts as Hammersmith and his counterpart Malcolm Chapman kept hitting bludgers furiously at the Gryffindor chasers to keep them at bay. This paid off in the end as Felix Rosier snuck a goal past Liam Brown putting the score at 100-30.

“We’re up by seventy but I’d feel better if this ended soon,” Rowan groaned.

“Are you still not enjoying yourself?”

“Are you kidding? Of course! I want to win this thing!”

David and Bill shared a knowing smile, quite pleased they had converted their friend.

“Well don’t hold your breath,” the eldest Weasley told them. “Quidditch matches can last for days if need be. No one goes home until the snitch is caught and Gryffindor’s lead isn’t large enough to make up the difference if Slytherin gets to it first.”

“They’d need to be up by one hundred and fifty points,” Penny explained to Rowan. “Personally, I could watch Skye score goals all day.”

While that was true, David had a feeling that Charlie would have to come up clutch. Lost in the hoopla of the scoring and scrappy play was the fact that the snitch had not been seen once over the course of the match. The second Weasley patrolled the skies, tailing Douglas Fernsby, the Slytherin seeker now and again but there was no luck so far.

“You think he can pull it off?” he asked Bill, who was scouring the field for his brother.

“Trust me, he can,” came the confident reply. “Once he spots that little golden ball, it’s game over.”

Suddenly, the roar of the crowd rose a few decibels as people began pointing.

“And here we go, the first attempt to end the game!” McNully boomed into the microphone. “Charlie Weasley, the promising Gryffindor seeker has gone into a full long sprint for the snitch!”

Seekers occasionally feigned going after the snitch to throw off their opponent, but this was not one of those times. From a distance, David could see that Charlie had a determined, hungry look on his face. A tiny glint of light confirmed that was indeed after the snitch and closing in fast.

“He’s going to do it! He’s going to do it!” Bill yelled over the noise, grabbing onto David in excitement. “Come on, little bro!”

The snitch was notorious quick and difficult to see, but the young Gryffindor seeker was not to be deterred. Fernsby of Slytherin was on the other side of the pitch and had no chance whatsoever. It was simply a matter of seconds.

“Look out!” someone yelled.

Out of nowhere the the Slytherin chaser, Rowle, came in like a bullet with the clear intention of knocking Charlie off his broom. But in a stunning display of broomsmanship, the Gryffindor simply slipped underneath his broom, hanging upside down as Rowle crashed into the ground. Righting himself, Charlie regained his focus, stretched out and caught the little golden ball in his right hand, ending the match.

“WE WIN!” Bill screamed to the heavens as the rest of the Gryffindors began jumping up and down like maniacs.

“And the match has ended!” McNully said hoarsely into the megaphone. “And what a stupendous display from the young Gryffindor seeker! Simply amazing I don’t think I’ve seen a move like that in all my years watching Quidditch and I’m thirteen years old! Gryffindor wins, 250-30 in the biggest route of Slytherin in fifty years!”

The commentary was soon drowned out by the increasing tidal wave of cheers and roars from the crowd. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws joined in the celebration, Penny chief among them, who was almost as ecstatic as the Gryffindors.

For his part, David whooped and hollered in the celebrations, being engulfed in a tidal wave of hugs and high fives, food smuggled from the Great Hall raining down on his head. The solemn faces of the Slytherins were long forgotten as the stands began to clear out and the party headed back to the Gryffindor common room.

Victory did indeed feel good, and for a short time, it was enough to overlook any complications involving Merula, the vaults, or Slytherin in general. They could hide in the grave of Salazar himself. Fortune favored the bold.

It was time to celebrate, courtesy of two brave Gryffindors in Skye Parkin and Charlie Weasley.

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hunnywrites · 5 years

Photo

Sixteen Candles: Part Four

Summary: It’s the day that Vivian has been looking forward to nearly her entire life: her sixteenth birthday. But between her sister’s wedding overshadowing her big day, and praying that her crush Billy Hargrove will finally notice her things aren’t going too well for her. If she can just survive the under the sea dance at her school and avoid the really weird and creepy Tommy H her night might be salvageable. Maybe.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: We’re nearing the end guys! I think the next chapter is gonna be the last. Enjoy!

“God that was a stupid movie.” Robin groaned as she and Vivian made their way out of the Hawk theater.

“I know,” Vivian said with an eyeroll. “They could pick anywhere in the world, and the Russians decide to invade some lame ass midwestern town? Like that’ll ever happen,” while the pair had decided early on that the movie was a total dud, they had entertained themselves by poking fun at how ridiculous it was. At least until Nancy Wheeler’s little brother and his friends started complaining that they were being too loud and started a popcorn war with them. But even that had been better than the movie. “Even Patrick couldn’t save that one.” she said with a sigh.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not picking out the movie next time,” Robin teased. It was late now. Most of the shops on Hawkin’s main street had closed for the night. “You know…maybe we didn’t think this plan all the way through.” Robin said as she surveyed the empty street.

Vivian frowned and looked over at her. “What do you mean?”

“We totally don’t have a ride home,” Robin laughed softly. Vivian groaned loudly and threw her head back. Just when her night was starting to look up, it was going right back down hill. “Enzo’s is like a block over. We could always go ask your parents for a ride home.” she offered.

Vivian shot her an unamused look. “Right. And let them know that I ditched the dance and Carol? This birthday sucked ass, but I don’t want it to be my last.”

Robin let out a snicker. “Alright, alright...well, I do have one suggestion,” she offered. Vivian raised an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna like it…” she warned.

“As long as it isn’t asking my parents I can live with it.” Vivian said.

Robin turned, nodding her head towards the entrance of the movie theater. Mike Wheeler and his friends were crowded around the bike rack, chattering excitedly and unlocking their bikes. “No,” Vivian said, crossing her arms. “No! Absolutely not. Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“Viv, it’s either this or we walk home. And I really don’t think you’ll wanna do that in those shoes.” she said, nodding to the heels that Vivian had borrowed from Sarah. Vivian didn’t move. As much as she didn’t want to walk home, she definitely didn’t want to ask a bunch of middle schoolers for a favor.

Robin rolled her eyes, taking Vivian’s arm and practically dragging her over to the group of preteens. “Yo, Wheeler! We need a favor.”

Mike Wheeler whirled around, sending a death glare back at the two girls. “Tough shit!” he called back.

A red head that Vivian recognized to be Max Mayfield, Billy’s step sister, rolled her eyes dramatically and let out a tired sigh. “Ignore him. What do you guys want?”

“We’re kinda stranded,” Robin admitted. “Can we maybe hitch a ride with you guys? My house is like a block over from Dustin’s and Vivian lives down the street from Mike and Lucas. Piece of cake.” the group, excluding Mike, looked at each other as if they were telepathically discussing it. Vivian shifted uncomfortably behind Robin. She absolutely hated the idea of riding home on the back of some 13 year old’s bike.

Finally Dustin stepped aside, motioning to his bike. “Your chariot, m’lady.”

“You guys are the best,” Robin said as she perched herself on the wheel pegs of Dustin’s bike. “Come on, Viv. Stop being a baby and get on the bike.” she teased. While Mike had made it clear that he did not agree on the plan, Lucas was the one to offer Vivian a ride home.

Vivian eyed the bike carefully before letting out a loud huff. “Fine. But I’m so never forgiving you for this.” she kicked off her heels, holding them tightly in her left hand as she balanced herself on the small wheel pegs. At least everyone she knew was probably still at the school dance. She wasn’t sure she’d ever live something like this down if anyone were to see her.

She had a near death grip on Lucas’ shoulders as they took off down the street. Suddenly Vivian realized that she had basically put her life in the hands of a thirteen year old boy she didn’t know and regretted choosing not to walk home.

“Hey, aren’t you Carol’s sister?” Max asked, riding alongside Lucas on her bike.

“Unfortunately.” Vivian muttered.

“Isn’t there some dance? How come you guys aren’t there?��

Robin let out a loud snort and looked over her shoulder at the two red heads. “That’s a looong story, kid. You don’t wanna get her started.”

Vivian glared at the back of her best friend’s head before looking back over at Max. “Let’s just say I’d rather be doing this,” she motioned down to the bike before gripping Lucas’ shoulders harshly again after almost slipping. “Than be at that stupid dance.”

Max let out a small laugh and shook her head. “You sound like Billy.”

---

Billy had told Cheryl they could stop by Tommy’s for a few minutes. That had turned into nearly two hours. He had lost her at some point pretty early on. Cheryl never really want to stick around with him at parties and he didn’t really care very much about finding her. He had considered just leaving. But Cheryl had a habit of getting absolutely shit faced and passing out. And as much as she annoyed him, he couldn’t just leave her knocked out in one of the upstairs bedrooms and hope Tommy would get her home safe.

“Yooo, dude! How come you don’t have a beer?” it was Tommy. He threw his arm roughly around Billy’s shoulder, spilling some of his beer onto the carpet. He was too drunk to notice. “Hey, have you seen Carol anywhere? If she’s up in my mom’s closet trying her shit on with Cheryl my mom is gonna kill me, dude.”

Billy shrugged Tommy’s arm off roughly and straightened out his blazer. “No, Tommy. I don’t know where she is. You got a phone in your room?”

Tommy gave him a blank look, like he was trying to decide if Billy was speaking English or not. He blinked a few times. “Huh? Oh! Yeah, dude! Up in my room. Who’re you gonna call? Gonna invite Cheryl over?” he asked wriggling his eyebrows.

“She’s already here, dipshit. You were just talking about her,” Billy said with an eye roll. Tommy was so wasted Billy was surprised he was able to keep himself upright. “How ‘bout you cool off on the beers and go find Carol, huh?” he clapped his friend on the back before moving around him and making his way upstairs.

Tommy’s bedroom was thankfully unoccupied. Billy guessed it was probably so dirty that it would chase off any couples looking to fool around on his bed. It wasn’t like he kept his own room spotless, but even Billy shuddered at the idea of sitting on Tommy’s bed while he called Vivian. He grabbed the phone that was sitting on the nightstand and dialed Carol’s (technically also Vivian’s) phone number.

He ran an irritated hand over his face as the phone rang. The answering machine picked up, and Billy slammed the phone back into its cradle with an annoyed huff. Maybe Vivian was still at the movies. He’d just have to call back tomorrow. That was unless Cheryl was able to work her charm on him and have him back under her thumb before the night was over. He kinda doubted that was gonna happen though.

“Biiillyyy…” a voice called from the hallway. Cheryl. Speak of the devil. Jesus Christ, this night just keeps getting worse, he thought with a groan. “Billy, come on honey, let me in!” she whined.

When he opened the door, Cheryl was dressed in a fur coat and about three pearl necklaces that he assumed belonged to Tommy’s mother. She was pouting up at him with a can of beer clenched tightly in her hand. “How come you locked the door?”

“I didn’t.”

Cheryl frowned. “Oh...well what are you doing in there anyways? I’ve been looking all over for you,” Billy definitely didn’t believe that. “I was thinking we could have some alone time…” she ran her hand up his chest, her long fingernails scratching gently at his skin.

“I’m not in the mood, Cheryl.” he pushed her hand away.

Cheryl fixed her glossy eyes on him and scowled. “What do you mean you’re not in the mood? I mean,” she motioned to her body. “Look at me, Billy.”

Billy rolled her eyes and gently took her by the arm. “You’re wasted. Let’s go home, huh? Tommy’s gonna be pissed if he sees you in his mom’s shit.” this is part of why he hated going out with Cheryl so much. She was like a giant child. More often than not he was just chasing her around and making sure she didn’t get herself killed.

Cheryl yanked her arm away. “No. Fuck Tommy. I’m having fun! God, you’re so fucking boring. I don’t know why I put up with you!” she let a heavy sigh and slid down the doorway, plopping down onto the floor. “You wouldn’t be anything at school if it wasn’t for me.” she grumbled.

Reason number two why Billy hated Cheryl, she was a bitch whether she was drunk or sober. He could sit and argue with her in Tommy’s doorway, or he could remove himself from the situation so he didn’t have to deal with her anymore. He chose the latter. Without another word he slammed the door shut.

“My hair!” he heard Cheryl whine from the other side of the door. He ignored her and picked up the phone once again, jabbing the buttons to dial Vivian’s number. It rang and rang, but no answer. “Oh fuck me,” he spat, slamming the phone back down. Billy let out an irritated huff and ran his hand over his face. He jumped a little when the phone rang beside him. He eyed it for a few moments before slowly picking it up. “...Hello?”

“Who is this?” a woman asked.

Billy frowned. “The hell do you mean who is this? You called me.”

“Are you the little hooligan that’s been calling here all night and swearing at us?”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, look I’ve been trying to call Vivian. Is she there?” Billy only assumed the woman on the other end was Vivian’s grandma. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

There was silence on the other end before a man answered. “Whether Vivian is here or not isn’t really your business. I don’t think we want our Vivian having anything to do with a boy like you.”

“Look, gramps, I can just keep calling until she answers.”

“Well we’ll just have to make sure that she doesn’t pick up the phone! Now goodnight!” and with that he hung up. Billy could only stare at the phone in his hand. There was a screech out in the hall that quickly distracted him from calling back and giving those two little old prunes a piece of his mind. The screech was followed by a loud cackle that could only belong to Carol.

“My hair!” it was Cheryl. Billy swung the bedroom door open to find Carol knelt down beside her best friend, dressed similarly in a fur coat and string of pearls, and clutching a pair of scissors along with a large chunk of Cheryl’s strawberry blonde locks. Billy couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not funny!” she sobbed. “This all your fault! You closed my hair in the door!”

Carol crawled forward towards Cheryl. “Shhh, shhh. Cheryl, honey,” she let out a snort, covering her mouth. Carol’s expression turned serious again as she regained her composure. “It’s fine, ‘cause you’re not stuck anymore! And your hair will totally grow back!”

Cheryl’s expression momentarily softened until Tommy found his way upstairs. He let out a loud laugh that had Cheryl crying all over again. “Dude, what happened to your hair?! You look like a total mental patient, Cheryl!” he laughed. Carol sent her boyfriend a stern look before nearly breaking into a fit of giggles with him.

It was a moment like this that made Billy think that maybe there was such a thing as karma. He managed to control his laughter and clapped Tommy on the shoulder. “Well, Tommy, I think it’s time I head off.”

Cheryl’s face twisted into a scowl. “What? You’re just gonna leave me here like this?!”

Billy only shrugged. “...Call me when your hair grows back.” he said before he retreated down the hallway, the sounds of Carol and Tommy’s drunken laughter travelling behind him. His night definitely wasn’t going the way that he’d hoped, but seeing Cheryl’s butchered haircut definitely had things looking up.

---

Vivian couldn’t get comfortable. She had been tossing and turning on the couch for the last hour and a half and still couldn’t manage to find a position to sleep in. Carol managed to make it home before their parents. She’d waltzed in drunk off her ass and laughing over something about Cheryl’s hair. Vivian couldn’t really make much out between Carol’s slurring voice and her laughter.

Vivian had helped Carol up to her room and into bed before she made enough noise to wake up their grandparents. It was a pretty thankless job being the younger sister. It wasn’t like Carol would remember any of that night and thank Vivian for it the next morning. Especially when she couldn’t even remember something like her birthday.

When their parents had come home with Sarah they seemed in pretty high spirits. Kevin was spending the night at the hotel with his parents so Sarah could avoid seeing him before the wedding. Apparently Enzo’s had actually done it’s job and impressed his parents. They’d managed to make it through dinner and drinks without a single argument or backhanded comment from Kevin’s mom. Which Vivian was thankful for. She definitely wasn’t in the mood to hear Sarah bitch and moan about how her life was over.

The kitchen light flicked on, and Vivian watched as her dad shuffled in and grabbed a glass of water before he turned his attention to her. He awkwardly lingered in the living room's entrance. “Can’t sleep, kiddo?” he asked.

“The couch sucks.” she muttered. ‘

He chuckled. “I know. It’s almost over though,” he let out a heavy sigh. “One more day and this’ll all be behind us...well, until you and Carol get married,” he joked. Her dad fiddled nervously with the belt of his robe. “Vivian, I um...I have to apologize.”

Vivian frowned and sat up. “Apologize for what?”

“Your birthday,” the look in his eyes let Vivian know he felt very and truly sorry about how her big day had gone. “I can’t believe...everything’s been so busy with Sarah’s wedding...I know it’s no excuse. It’s your sixteenth birthday. It’s a big deal for a teenager, you know? Just trust me when I say that your mother and I are definitely going to be making up for this once the wedding is over.”

It was like the sky had opened up and there were angels singing. Finally someone had realized. “...Does this mean you’ll buy me a car?” she asked with a teasing smile.

Her father chuckled. “We might have to discuss that before I make any promises. You don’t hate me, do you?”

“No! I mean it was totally the cherry on top to like a royally shitty day, but...unless me saying yes gets me a car.”

“Nice try. You wanna talk about your royally shitty day? It’s the least I can do.”

Vivian shook her head quickly. “It’s fine. Really. It’s boy stuff, daddy. I so totally don’t wanna talk to you about boy stuff.” plus she didn’t really know where she would even begin with the Billy subject.

“Oh…” he shifted uncomfortably. “Well...just, you know, make sure you’re being careful…”

Vivian was pretty sure that her face was as red as her hair. This almost wasn’t worth him apologizing for forgetting her birthday. “Oh my god. No. Dad, no. It’s so not like that. I mean he barely even realizes I exist…”

Her father frowned and sat at the end of the couch. “Well, why even bother with him?” he asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because, daddy, he’s Billy. You’re always saying that mom barely even spoke to you in high school. It’s like the same thing.”

“Wait, is this that little punk that’s always hanging around your sister?” he asked. Vivian gave him a pleading look. He held up his hands. “Alright, alright. I won’t judge. But can I just say...I understand having a crush. It’s part of growing up. But you don’t want to mess around with any boy who isn’t bending over backwards to get your attention. You’re worth it, honey. The right guy will see it.”

She liked to think Billy tried a little. He had invited her to Tommy’s party. He had been the only person aside from Robin to tell her happy birthday. Was she totally delusional? “Thanks, daddy. I’ll keep that in mind…”

He patted her on the knee. “Anytime, sweet pea. Alright. I think you and I need to get some sleep, huh? We have a long, long day ahead of us tomorrow.” he sighed with a tired smile. “But in a little over 24 hours it’ll be all about you. Promise.”

Vivian snickered and nodded. “Deal. Night, daddy.” she knew that he was right. Robin had said something along the same lines so many times that Vivian had almost lost count. But she was sixteen. She could let herself have some stupid crush for a little while longer, right?

It was her birthday. She could do whatever she wanted.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x oc

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herefortheace · 6 years

Text

Masterpost: People in “Ace Discourse” DO Hate Aces and Aros

And it’s despicable and scary and it needs to stop.

I’ve made most of this post before, but I’m creating a new one because 1) I didn’t expect how long it would get and failed to include a by now much needed “read more” at any point and 2) tumblr won’t let me update the old post anymore via reblogging.

So before I copy the old links and add new ones, a not so brief explanation of why this is necessary.

People, for some reason, after years of blatant evidence to the contrary still claim “ace discourse” has NOTHING to do with anyone hating aces and aros, that not even a single person involved (or anywhere) does. By blatant evidence for people here hating aces and aros, I mean everything from pathologizing our identities to comparing us all to violent misogynists and white supremacists to wishing harm and death on us. Yet the anti-ace/aro crowd will claim we’re just making it all up because we’re hysterical liars who “wanna be oppressed”. It’s a blatant and nasty silencing tactic, but sadly not ineffective because people fall for that shit.

Which is why I originally made this post and am now making it again.

A too influential bunch of people on this site have spun a wild narrative wherein aces and aros are this super privileged group of people who essentially can’t be harmed and whom it’s therefore funny to treat like shit. They also act, over and over, as though asexuality and aromanticsm are some sort of evil idoelogy rather than minority orientations.

A lot of us - most of us I see around - belong to various oppressed groups, but the anti-ace/aro crowd has worked hard to erase that, because it becomes very obvious very fast that it’s not funny to sexualize aces and aros or compare us to Trump or claim our orientations give us an “oppression fetish” when you keep in mind who exactly they are saying it to (I’ve spoken at length about the anti-ace/aro crowd’s efforts to erase aces and aros of color and how they make me furious as a WoC here, but you’ll find plenty proof among the links below). This is not just incredible bullshit, but harms especially the most marginalized of us.

As does the more general willingness of the anti-ace/aro crowd to throw misogyny, racism, ableism and all sorts of bigotry around as a weapon against us. A ton of the links here contain some seriously dehumanizing shit.

Whatever else you may believe, asexuality and aromanticism as identities do not confer any social privilege and do not make people impervious to or deserving of harm. And frankly I should not need to say this.

But apparently I do, and I also (after all this time still) need to prove we’re not just making it all up for attention or to trick people, so here we go. I’m mostly copying the old parts (1-8) of the list as-is because I don’t have time for anything else. Also, while my point definitely isn’t that every single person involved loathes aces and aros, this crap didn’t suddenly come into an already existing “ace discourse” (by that name) either - it’s a huge part of how it got started and was a deliberate move by many to make it gain traction.

This is by no means a complete list, but the shit the anti-ace/aro crowd on this site has pulled includes:

Comparing aces and aros to Trump (and pretending this is funny)

Comparing aces to Pence

Comparing aces to Ronald Reagan (and pretending this is funny)

Comparing aces to a literal slave owner

Making fun of aces not being accepted by their parents and of aces finding this upsetting (making it into a crytyping “joke”)

Making aces feel shitty/shaming them for telling their parents they’re ace because it’s supposedly “unnecessary”

Saying if we tell family about being ace, it’s no wonder if they send us to therapy

Doing their best to sexualize the orientations of aces, in so many cases. The link before these two is also connected to that. They treat our orientations like (graphic) details about “our sex lives”, frequently acting like if we want to talk about them ever we’re gross/creepy

This one is also “nice” re sexualizing aces (one of many examples of ppl also engaging in sex-shaming while they’re at it, saying only one’s partner should know anything about one’s “relationships with sex”. Except this person goes kinda even further)

More sexualization, when I say this freaks me out as a WoC, I’m told this white person gives no fucks and wants me to be miserable

Another person who says the identities of aces but also of aros need to stay between them and their Partners because they’re “TMI” and inherently sex-shaming somehow

Oh yeah did I mention, much the same with sexualizing aros and ppl frequently link our identities to misogyny and to using people while they’re at it

Making light and fun of ace WoC asking to not be sexualized because don’t we know aces have done Bad things and so we deserve it/don’t get to complain

One of many examples of white people who hate aces+aros talking over PoC and trying to erase us from our communities (+usually when we call that shit out they don’t care. This is actually one of the more cordial responses I’ve come across despite the lack of apology lol.

Another example of white ppl in the anti-ace/aro crowd talking over aces and aros of color here complete with that person condescendingly lecturing a PoC about racism

People like this saying outright they hate aces

Saying sex ed shouldn’t teach about asexuality

Outright stating they think being ace/aro gives people privilege (because supposedly aces+aros both benefit from conservatives pushing for abstinence)

Outright invalidating the identities of aces (who don’t have the attitude towards sex they think they should have)

Calling asexuals demons

Outright calling aces and aros a “plague” and saying aces/aros regardless of other identities all need to be kicked out of the LGBT+ community.

Erasing the identities of people who speak out against anti-ace/aro shit to declare them “straight” or “cishet” …or saying that treatment is what they get for being “traitors to their own community”

Ignoring the boundaries of aces/aros who have them blocked and don’t want to be vagued to make fun of them …

…or even to continue sexualizing them after they have made it very clear that shit freaks them out (cheerfully doing this to a WoC)

Someone saying asexuality does not exist and “encourages slut shaming”

Spamming the ace positivity tag with vile hate (ppl have talked a lot about how this harms and endangers especially mentally ill ppl)

“aces are embarassing“ in the positivity tag

Posting nsfw content in the ace positivity tag and being completely unapologetic, apparently using the reasoning that our identities are inherently nsfw anyway (see the “TMI discourse” aka people sexualizing our identities)

Calling aces and aros a “sexuality fandom” while pretending we’re a group full of people with every privilege imaginable, bored of being accepted by everyone and of having no Actual Problems in our lives. This kind of nasty erasure constantly goes on and is a big tactic in this mess tbh

Wanting aces to be “exterminated”. For good measure putting this in the ace positivity tag

This disgusting vile shit that I don’t even know how to sum up but it includes wishing death on someone

Talking about wanting aces/aros dead after somehow misunderstanding(?) a post that was very clearly not about asexuality or aromanticism

Graphically telling aces to die

Specifically telling ace kids to kill themselves

Did I mention that many people in this mess have wished death on aces and aros and that they often put it in positivity tags. Some of the most messed up shit I’ve seen is missing because I didn’t reblog/respond to it at the time or can’t find it right now

And I know anons don’t count as hard “proof” for anything but have the less graphic one of the death/rape threats I got in my inbox for speaking out against anti-ace/aro shit (still kinda eerily detailed though. Not linking the other one because it is extremely graphic)

Part 2:

Comparing aces to a literal white supremacist (in the positivity tag)

Again someone invalidating the identities of aces who don’t have the attitude towards sex they think they should have

Sexualizing aros again, not caring about how it affects particularly aro PoC. And here two other ppl sexualizing and demonizing aros, like in posts further above claiming (non-ace) aros just use people for sex (said on positivity post).

Someone sexualizing aces again and engaging in sex-shaming at the same time, as usual with the claim that literally no one but a partner “needs” to know our orientations

Those Rachel Dolezal comparisons I mentioned made by non-black/white people who want to use antiblackness for what they call “ace discourse”? Yeah here is one white person doing it and here is another, even worse example where a white person goes “this is like if I pulled a Rachel D. and put on blackface and used the n-word…” (paraphrasing here). Here is the latter person utterly dismissing me being upset by their antiblackness (because black ppl’s pain only matters when it’s useful)

[For ppl who don’t know: Rachel Dolezal is a white woman who pretended to be black and built her career on it. White people sure as hell do not get to compare this shit to anything that is not antiblackness and use black people’s pain for their own purposes.]

A white person using antiblackness as a weapon against aces and aros in general (aka “ace tumblr”), acting smug regarding how supposedly we’re all so racist and “get triggered” by black people existing. (I am so tired of white ppl using racism as a cheap “gotcha” against aces and aros - groups which include PoC. And who then ignore or belittle PoC who call them out)

White person randomly informing WoC aces/aros can have white privilege

Again someone claiming ace privilege exists and here another person doing it adding to the post further above, claiming aces/aros have privilege for being ace/aro and that this is the case bc people who don’t have sex are privileged (wrong definition of asexuality… also of aromanticism??… and also no. No.)

What I mentioned about ppl telling us asexuality/aromanticism are not orientations but only ever modifiers? It’s happened a lot but here’s one example. And here’s someone outright saying aro aces don’t have an orientation but only modifiers.

Here’s the same person who said aro aces don’t have an orientation later turning around saying the orientation of aro aces is determined by how they behave and who they have sex with.

Another person putting nsfw shit in the ace positivity tag (link is to nsfw text)

And people try really hard to justify despising aces and aros by pointing to shitty people who share our identities/orientations. Honesty is secondary in this. Here you have someone taking a shitty post from an obvious nasty troll blog to say this is why ppl hate aces, and later when having the troll thing pointed out to them saying they already know. The post got over 3k notes.

“asexual shouldn’t even be a way people identify themselves”, with a second person in the thread agreeing

Part 3:

Someone saying they hope all aces “get checked out by a doctor” first (holy shit)

Saying asexuality is not a sexuality aka more invalidation like in posts further above

Someone calling aces a “turbo virgin club”, then declaring if an ace gets upset about it this shows their immense privilege

I’m 96% sure this is a troll and/or worse but here’s someone using absolute bullshit reasoning to claim asexuality is an inherently racist/antiblack identity (…on a black person’s post)

Speaking of racism, someone claiming vile crap and utter bullshit about aces including that we are all white

Once again a white person trying to use (extremely vile) antiblackness for so called “ace discourse”

Another incident of a blatant troll post getting nearly 3k notes because people wanted to use it to demonstrate how horrible aces/aros are, since we supposedly made up the fake slur “arobot”. Explanation in link, but basically no, “we” didn’t, it was an ancient pretty blatant troll post.

Again someone linking aromanticism to misogyny and to using people for sex

Someone in our positivity tags basically claiming aces and aros in relationships are selfish leeches who demand things but don’t give anything back. Talking as if we don’t deserve “time, effort, attention and love” and as though people in relationships with us are to be pitied

People spamming the ace positivity tag with nasty negativity and hate (once again)

Someone repeatedly wishing rape and like so often death on aces and aros (among other things) in our positivity tags. This person also put nsfw content there and spammed the tags

Again someone specifically wanting ace kids dead, talking in the positivity tag about hoping they get hit by a bus

After someone in this thread talks about the worry of being sexually assaulted for being ace, a person responds with the vilest victim-blaming, claiming shit like “it is easy to learn how to defend yourself“ and worse that I don’t want to put here. If you want details check the link

A number of screenshots of extremely vile posts, out of which two older ones weren’t listed here before: one is about wanting aces/aros to have “full blown panic attacks” and “cry themselves to sleep” over being marginalized/erased by society;

the other utterly disgustingly talks about wanting aces/aros to face torture and medical experimentation and death (the person brings in concentration camps)

This anon was also among the screenshots just now: extremely graphic torture and death threat I got from someone because they hate all us “ ~uwu~pure~smol~aceys~”. There’s wanting to peel the skin off my body as well as gun violence and sentiments that echo the post above

Since we’re already talking anons, somewhat graphic rape/death threat I got in my inbox, this time using the “dare I say meme” that is frequently employed to shit on aces and aros (still leaving out the most disgustingly graphic threat I’ve received bc I don’t want to link it)

Part 4:

“I would actually fucking slaughter aces if I could“

Listen this crap is terrifying and at this point I’m just tired. I could add the same sort of shit to this list over and over. Yet there’s still a huge crowd here denying any of this is happening, who’ll come to posts about ppl hating aces and aros to declare that no one does and we’re all just making it up or too clueless to understand what’s Really Being Said, because that’s how they like to paint aces and aros and anyone who supports us. It’s unbelievable and so so horrible and draining.

It needs to stop. I hate putting this negative crap on ppl’s dash but what’s going on is just so harmful and there’s not much else to do about it I can think of. Aside from people condescendingly explaining to us all the time none of this is happening (or outright calling us liars the moment we don’t put the links directly on a post and claiming we’re making this all up to make other aces/aros feel unsafe holy shit), I’ve also had ppl come to this very post (the original version) saying it’s just “mean words on the Internet” so I shouldn’t talk about -isms here and ppl literally wishing us dead.

Please help get word around that this is happening and a serious issue if you can? (But also if you can’t please don’t feel bad about that)

Part 5:

Someone saying ppl only get to headcanon extremely privileged characters as ace/aro

Someone spouting the incredible, unironic line: “isn’t that the point of being ace?? to desexualize yourself??“

Telling aces to date non-aces otherwise they’re automatically abusive for “taking sex away” from their partners (holy shit)

As I mentioned, if we speak about the anti-ace/aro shit on this site, ppl love to try and shut us up by coming to our posts acting like we don’t know what we’re talking about or are deliberately lying for example because they’ve not personally seen what we’re talking about, and they can get really utterly horrible about it

Someone making up an insult (”stiff”) for aces to mean “a prude who cant keep their trap shut abt it “ (the person also posted a screenshot of a dictionary entry of the word in the positivity tag where “a dead body” is listed as one of the definitions)

Same person saying aromantic means “a boring person nobody will ever love”

Yet another person sexualizing aces, making fun of how supposedly we constantly talk about wanting to “fuck”… and about wanting to be led around on a leash in public

Two people defending hating all aces and comparing this to statements about privileged groups like white people, because ace/aro privilege I guess

A white person mocking me having experienced racism in “ace discourse” while heavily implying I must be lying (while demanding proof and no I’m not saying asking me for links is the problem)

Another person outright defending hating aces, except it’s okay and not bigotry according to them because it’s… not our existence that’s the problem but us existing as aces??

Part 6

Saying ace/aro identities belong in the DSM

And also a post I really want to talk about that made me add to this post again:

Saying asexual/aromantic people are “weird” and “ugly as fuck” and we id as ace/aro because “no one wants us” (I got an extremely vile anon once that made a similar “argument” and this line of thought is neither new nor harmless)

The thing about this post that makes it especially horrible and made me put it here almost right away? The notes. There are tons of people who responded to that post with approval and if you check, you’ll see them acting like aces/aros being treated like this and getting upset about it is just one big joke. There are many people going “lol that’s mean but true” and “lmao careful they’ll use this as proof they’re oppressed haha” (paraphrased) and otherwise talking nasty shit about aces and aros. This is fucking vile and the kind of shit you’d expect from anti-sjws, but nope, “ace discourse” everyone

Someone saying ace awareness week should not be a thing because they’re already “painfully” aware we exist

Did I mention when we talk about any of this people immediately in big numbers rush to silence us, dismissing and mocking us out of hand and painting us as hysterical liars who “just wanna be oppressed“ because who gives a shit about aces/aros saying they’re being harmed

As a bonus, let’s return to the anons for a moment, which I’ve not talked about much before:

Someone telling me to die after I made more posts calling this sort of anti-ace/aro shit out

Someone telling me they want to ally with conservatives and shoot me and also other aces, calling aces a “plague”

Someone telling me sending the above to a black person has nothing to do with racism, and also that asexuality is a symptom of mental illness/trauma that needs to be corrected, not a sexuality. They tell me to “get fucked” so I’ll be fixed

Right after these asks I also got a nazi in my inbox (”88″ is nazi code). Make of that what you will

Another person coming to my inbox calling aces a plague and wanting us all dead

“Tumblr aces are deserving of every drop of loathing they get”

And now back once more to the posts people actually put their blog names on (aka most posts by far on this list, so no one skimming better try to claim this is primarily about anons just because I put a few in)…

Reacting to hateful vile anons by claiming we must have sent them to ourselves (why? because they say so), such as graphic anon rape/death threats. Nasty on so many levels and encourages people who hate us further to send shit like that

Part 7

People thinking it’s appropriate to tell a black ace woman (me lol) she has an “oppression fetish” just based on her minority orientation, in response to her asking ppl to not do EXACTLY that

Someone comparing asexuality to a kink to mock the idea of and paint as gross aces talking to family or anyone not involved in “their sex life” about their orientation

Same person in a wild post calling all aces “demons” (as ppl keep doing)

Someone not only as so often comparing aces to Trump with a moodboard, but also including the word “fascism” in ace colors in it (this is an older post)

Someone coming up with the wild conspiracy theory that people upset by aphobia (along with inclusionists) are actually largely the alt-right trying to disrupt activist communities wtf I can not make this shit up (the person being ace themselves does not make this better or any less anti-ace/aro. This is fucking vile)

Someone mocking all aces by calling us “aceys” and talking about wanting to fight us, and another person approving of this and calling aces speaking out against it “dumb” and my legitimate anger “cute”. Also apparently being upset by this at all means I’ve “deluded” myself into thinking I’m oppressed

Same person who said the above claiming aro aces are somehow straight

Mocking aro terminology and aros for calling their partners (who they may or may not be married to) anything but “friends”

People (once again) painting aros as monsters who by virtue of being aro treat their partners without basic respect and decency. Also making aro identities all about wanting to “fuck” people without loving them, or caring about them in any shape or form. This shit is both sexualizing our identities (as usual) and nasty as hell in general

Another person outright saying they hate aces and trying to justify this by comparing it to venting about a privileged group, as if ace privilege exists rather than asexuality being a minority orientation

Someone (as too many ppl have done) comparing aces to “incels”, dangerous misogynists who are frequently rape apologists/rapists

Silencing tactics still include viciously mocking aces/aros speaking out against any of this shit and painting us as irrational, Senselessly Angry, and evil like in this bullshit “parody” post of what I (and two others?) have supposedly been saying. Apparently when I make posts like this one, that is what the OP gets from that… somehow. People keep doing shit like this to me, and painting black women as hysterical and angry for no reason when we’re legitimately upset is not a new move?

While we’re on the topic of antiblackness and misogynoir, remember how ppl love to send me graphic anon threats? Yeah this person purosely invoked the image of lynchings while doing so, aware themselves it’s racist and admitting they don’t care, as long as they can tell a black person they’d like to “hang me from a tree” and then also all other ace ppl, because “ace discourse” has proven to them we’re evil apparently

Part 8

Saying there’s somethong “wrong” with aces and aros and that we need to get professional help, and that our orientations are “unnatural”. There’s way too much pathologization among these links

Comparing aces to Ayn Rand, a racist rape apologist among other things. Apparently it makes for a fun moodboard about how we’re evil (and hate poor people?? wtf)

Once again someone comparing aces to incels (for some reason people love associating aces with misogynists, rape apologists and rapists, hmm)

Someone sexually harassing a user for simply saying to ignore/block aphobes, putting extremely explicit sexual content into the post’s notes, very possibly trying to deliberately trigger the OP. This is disgusting af

Someone saying asexuality isn’t a real sexuality (again)

As usual someone putting negativity in the ace positivity tag like we don’t deserve to have positivity - this time about how we’re “idiot aces” and all “cishet”

Talking about how this masterpost that, you know, has literal death threats on it and not few of them is hilarious

Here we have someone after being linked to this masterpost defending the Ronald Reagan and Trump moodboards (while completely ignoring all the other shit on this list)

Someone spewing the old bullshit notion that conservatives love aces for our supposed “celibacy”, with the typical implication of ace privilege or at least the idea that being ace makes those of us belonging to various oppressed groups less oppressed (or that we don’t exist at all lol)

Here’s an older post where someone cruelly made fun of an anon on an ace blog non wanting to get a pap test, presuming it’s due to internalized oppression and treating that as funny and inherently mock-worthy (the post got lots of approving notes at the time), because haha aces “valuing their virginity more than their health”, even though 1) the anon said nothing of the sort and 2) even if they had, people not wanting to get health care due to messed up ideas surrounding “virginity” is not funny either. (And this sort of ridicule is nowhere near comparable to correcting actual misinformation)

Making Kylo Ren ace/aro moodboards because aside from real life fascists it’s fun to compare us to fictional ones

Since we’re on the topic, another, older post that has a lot of people comparing aces to various fictional abusers, mass murderers, fascists, etc., “joking” about how these are the characters we can have as “ace representation”. And then ppl going “lol it’s just a joke haha silly aces not getting the concept of humor” in typical bigot fashion, something the anti-ace/aro crowd does A LOT

Meanwhile once when I in response to someone comparing aros to Voldemort (based on him being incapable of love) made an aro-spec Hermione positivity post using the same meme the Voldemort post had used, emphasizing her good qualities/sense of justice, a whole wild mess happened that included people making jokes about (house elf) slavery on my aka a black woman’s positivity post and calling one of the most commonly hc-ed as black characters demonic and equating her to Taylor Swift… for among other things the evil trait of having an issue with, you know, slavery.

(Later a white person tried to in a separate post paint me as hysterical/irrational for getting upset about this, completely [and deliberately] erasing the fact that it was about race at all in that retelling of things. Not that it’s not bullshit and extremely telling to gleefully heap negativity on a positivity post like this in general, but damn.)

But back to comparing us to real life fascists, someone literally said “cishet asexuals act almost identical to white supremacists and nazis” because saying this about a minority orientation which includes aces TARGETED by white supremacists isn’t fucked up at all I’m done

For the xth time someone outright saying they hate aces

Here we get tons of misogynoir again from someone making a sort of Nicki Minaj ace moodboard that compares ace inclusionism to her breasts/”silicone implants“, and someone else approving of how hilarious that supposedly is. It’s pretty fucking gross tbh, the OP even put it in the Nicki Minaj tag

Fitting in with the above nicely: someone suggesting that subsets of aces and aros be called “breeders” (this is an older post)

Calling asexuality and aromanticism “cults” and comparing them to scientology among a ton of other vile shit including once again pathologization

Calling (non-ace) aros “objectifying assholes”

More demonization of aros, claiming as so often that being aro is the same as fetishizing and using people

Once again someone calling aces (or well just ace girls this time because misogyny is fun) ugly and claiming we’re all white (because racism is also fun)

Part 9

And here finally the new part that tumblr wouldn’t let me add to the original post the usual way. Not to repeat myself but I’m exhausted. And pissed. Remember these are all just examples. And I’d like to say there won’t be more in the future but who am I kidding.

Making light of comparing aces to incels, who are still dangerous misogynists/rapists/rape apologists. How dare aces and especially ace women be upset about it

Another person making light of (nasty moodboards) comparing aces and specifically ace teenagers to vile af dangerous bigots

Again someone comparing aces to incels (....who apparently no longer oppress women, at least if they’re ace)

They really love that incel comparison

They love it a lot. Yet another person comparing aces to incels (while defining asexuality as “not wanting to fuck”). Someone else joining in and going, “Is ‘turbo virgin’ better for u”

The same ppl as in the link above continuing to be horrible+apparently thinking ace and aro WoC are no longer oppressed by racism and misogyny. Did I mention I could not make this shit up

Also if you scroll a bit, there’s a link there to one of them telling an ace to “get laid” to be fixed (this link here leads to the same thread as the one above)

Once more comparing aros to Trump

White person thinking it’s a good idea to equate aces/aros of color upset about being compared to white supremacists with white ppl upset about jokes about white ppl

“asexuals go to hell”

Claiming it’s just “crying racism” and funny that I call call out, you know, all this pretty blatant racism, such as comparing aces and aros to slave owners/white supremacists to give just one example of the literal dozens here (even sth on the level of that anon wanting to lynch me apparently doesn’t count as racist for the OP there what the hell even)

Pathologizing our orientations, saying aces all have some “underlying issue” and that we just id as asexual as an excuse bc we don’t wanna “work through” said issues

Again someone claiming aces can’t have sex, making fun of ppl saying otherwise (apparently we physically can’t this is so wild)

Again ppl claiming aces and aros are basically all white, hurting (and pissing off) aces and aros of color bc that’s always fun. Also I’d argue some not that subtle misogyny there but decide for yourself

Among other things claiming aces are obsessed with sex which uhh uncomfortable+creepy. If ppl’d stop sexualizing us that’d be fucking nice

Another nonblack person comparing ace inclusionists to Rachel Dolezal (not giving a shit about black ppl’s opinion on the matter)... and then claiming antiblackness isn’t racism (when coming from other PoC)

Claiming asexuality is a “specific sexual preference” that no one wants to know about and also the same as “not fucking”. Literally saying (as ppl in this mess do so often) we should literally mention our orientations to NO ONE but our partners bc of this. AND not giving a shit about being told this sexualizes aces including aces of color

As usual pretending we make all the shit documented in this post up (and let me repeat this post was just meant to have EXAMPLES, there’s way more horrible crap out there)

Ace girls are apparently “like straight girls, only worse”. And that regardless of other identities

Using the term “acehets”

Another person referring to “acehets and arohets”

Apparently asexuality and aromanticism are “technically het” now

Calling aces (explicitly+deliberately ALL aces) a “cancer to the lgbt community”

Saying a black aro ace woman wouldn’t have time to be “melodramatic” (=make posts like this one lol) if she had more sex. I CAN NOT MAKE THIS SHIT UP it’s so incredibly sexist, racist, and creepy omg. There’s already examples further above of this person’s misogynoir BUT DAMN

Here we have some pro Trump, pro gun person after going “fuck tumblr ace culture” talking about how aces aren’t oppressed (especially those of us to whom guns or ppl like the president they support are an incredible danger I’m sure lol) and how dare we make our orientations “our entire personality”. This is all so wild help me??

Remember when we talked about how ppl like to when we talk about this despite all the easily available proof accuse us of lying/being hytserical/just “wanting to be oppressed” as a silencing tactic? Yeah here we have someone calling me speaking out against some of the (racist) shit listed further above “delusional”

Linking being ace to being a nazi (”Been noticing a lot of these “Asexuals” are also nazis”)

More linking being ace to being a nazi (”You can't spell asexual without axis power”). Did I mention the anti-ace/aro crowd is wild and despicable af

The solution to people being this horrible to us is CLEARLY for us to “log off” so why the hell are we whining

This white person wants millions in “emotional damages” from people with ace headcanons for characters belonging to various oppressed groups, including characters of color. Because clearly others acknowledging the existence of aces of color must be incredibly painful for them. Wtf is the anti-ace/aro crowd even. Also, this is what aces and aros of color mean when we talk about constantly being erased by ppl wanting to pretend our orientations are somhow “white” identities - frquently like here under the guise of protecting us from those evil aces and aros aka ourselves.

Putting “your flag is ugly and so are you“ in the ace positivity tag

Same person posting in the ace positivty tag about wanting subsets of aces to get hit by a bus

Okay I know further above I’ve directed you to such unbelievably vile anons they must be getting old but I’m gonna put just one in this part: wanting aces dead but it’s our own fault because the ace community on tumblr made them into a shitstain devoid of decency who thinks fondly of people dying based on them sharing a minority orientation!! They had no problems with aces before!! And it’s just if we’re on tumblr that they want us dead really!! Using this site like other people makes us... wait for it... “incel equivalents” apparently

Aaand here the nonblack ppl go again with the comparing ace inclusionism to antiblackness/Rachel Dolezal, one of them specifically complaining they got called antiblack for it when clearly this white person also doing it proves it’s okay

After as the anti-ace/aro crowd loves to do pretending none of this is happening, this person admitted that yeah sure their crowd compares aces and aros to misogynists and racists, but it’s not because of our orientations but because we’re Bad, and if we claim otherwise we’re manipulative and just wanna victimize ourselves!!

racism and comparing PoC (because their asexuality continues to not magically turn aces of color into white ppl) to their oppressors are apparently still funny (”date an asexual who thinks reverse racism exists“)

Someone talking about wanting “porn of aces” where aces are raped and turned into “hypersexual sluts”. The person adds, “ESPECIALLY if it’s real”. This shit is VILE AND DISTURBING AF HOLY CRAP

And apparently aces who have sex are by virtue of this themselves rapists now, along with anyone who consensually sleeps with people they’re not attracted to?? Wtf even. (These people REALLY want to villify us and for us to not enter relationships - if we don’t have sex with a partner, we’re absusive, but if we do, we’re rapists. We’ve had both these “arguments” now I fucking can’t.)

Again someone posting (in the ace positivity tag) about wanting an “ace concentration camp”

“asexuals get death challenge”

And listen I WISH I was making this shit up and that these posts all didn’t exist. Then I’d not have to deal with the knowledge that a ton of people here don’t even see aces and aros as human beings, constantly throwing -isms and nasty af shit in general at us and pretending when aimed at us it’s somehow okay. People are doing all this to us, and trying to claim we deserve it, based on our MINORITY ORIENTATIONS.

It’s wild, it’s despicable, and it needs to stop. And I’m going to say it as many times as necessary.

#ace discourse #aphobia #asexuality #aromantic #masterpost #crapcourse mess #rape cw #abuse cw #sexualization /#suicide baiting cw #death threats cw #rape threats cw #concentration camp mention //#victim blaming mention /#long post

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that-shamrock-vibe · 5 years

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St. Patrick’s Day: Celebrating Irish Culture

It’s that time of year again where for one day in the 365 rotation, the people of Great Britain are given an excuse to drink to excess and penalize anyone who forgets to wear green. For us who have Irish heritage we often treat is as both a serious and lapse event, we still get drunk but feel it is our duty as Irishmen and Irishwomen to do so.

However, unlike other religious holidays such as Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving for our American cousins, the religious foundations of this day have long been lost and only really celebrated by those devout to religion.

This, fortunately, does not concern me as I am not religious. However I have recently been feeling an itch to learn more about my Irish roots and maybe it is just the time of year or the fact I have been feeling rather reflective lately, but I thought I may as well start this journey by talking about what I do know to the faceless masses online.

My Heritage:

Okay so I know I am 1/4 Irish on my father’s side, my granddad is fully Irish as are my 9/10 great-uncles and great-aunts. I know the names of two of them but to be clear I do not come from the type of family where all the extended family is known.

In total I know I have a mum, dad, sister, brother, 3 uncles, two sets of grandparents a cousin and just under a dozen great-aunts and uncles collectively from both sides. I know for a fact my dad’s side of the family is expansive from my nan’s funeral but the only ones I could point out there are the great-uncle I know and my second cousin(?) who I only met there and who was absolutely wasted. No one does a funeral better than the Irish.

I also know my great-aunt on my mum’s mum’s side (her sister) has a daughter and granddaughter, aside from that and the fact my cousin is pregnant I am at a loss to where everyone else is on my family tree.

I also know I am from Irish descent on my mother’s side as my great-great-great grandmother is Irish to some degree and her daughter and my great-great grandmother hails from Ireland but again no one living knows the actual heritage there. Either way for me it’s very little but adds to what I already have from my dad’s side.

In the grand scheme my heritage doesn’t mean anything really. To my knowledge our family is not religious, my dad essentially denounced god when my brother died and aside from attending a religious youth group during our pre-teen years, my sister and I have never had an interest in religion. I am Pagan and more specifically Wiccan but at this point in time not practicing and the only things I worship at the moment are JustEat or alcohol.

It’s also note-worthy that I didn’t grow up surrounded by my dad’s family, as mentioned earlier the first time I met the mass of them was at my nan’s funeral back in March 2013 and that became a drunken haze which didn’t really include much socializing. Because of this, and because I have moved cities a few times in my life, I haven’t got a natural brogue more commonly known as an Irish accent.

Interestingly though, because of being brought up in the generation where TV raised us, which took place the generation before any screen raised kids, I have adopted a very fractured Irish accent which only comes out in certain situations such as when I converse with other Irish people and almost catch their accent. Also certain words and phrases I say in everyday conversation will sound Irish, words like “Word(s), World and generally words containing that “or” sound will come out as Irish.

Irish Folklore:

There is a lot to be said about Irish folklore also, not least about the legendary creatures the country is for, specifically Leprechauns and Banshees.

For instance, I always believed that my sister was a banshee because when she used to get angry her shrieks were earsplitting. There is an old wives tale of if Irishmen were to track their family history back long enough, they would discover they had a banshee as an ancestor. Some tales about banshees believe that their physiology is a curse that is passed down through the generations. So it stands to reason that my sister could very well be a banshee.

Leprechauns meanwhile are supposed to be creatures of luck that travel on rainbows and continuously recite limericks. If one is caught then he is supposed to lead you to their pot of gold which is traditionally said to be at the end of the rainbow.

While there are many other creatures and tales in Irish folklore, such as Selkies which are essentially Celtic Mermaids, none of them are really as talked about or celebrated as the aforementioned two creatures and St. Patrick’s Day.

The only other mainstream celebration in folklore other than the three is the symbolism of the lucky four-leaf clover which when in possession of an individual is meant to grant said individual luck. This is also a reason as to why clovers and shamrocks are often used as visual representations for luck.

Who’s Dublin Got:

So as I mentioned before, my dad’s side of the family hails from Dublin and when I mentioned that to a classmate, his response was to ask “What is there in Dublin?”. My first response was to retort with “More than Hull” but I thought better of it and instead decided to educate both him and myself.

When it comes to famous people from Dublin, there are some I know are from Dublin and some I had to research. For instance I know the singers Danny O’Donoghue, Sinead O’Connor, Nicky Byrne and Brian McFadden are from Dublin. The latter two of whom are/were members of Westlife which is a boy/man band based in Dublin. Their manager Louis Walsh is also from Dublin and his pets Jedward are also from there, those two aren’t the best of examples but I digress.

In terms of acting talent, Colin Farrell, Poldark’s Aidan Turner, Game of Thrones’ Aidan Gillen, the Gleeson family consisting of actors Brendan, Domhnall and Brian are all from there as well as Sherlock’s Andrew Scott and Michael Gambon.

What It All Means:

So what being Irish means to me, in terms of looking deep and not just saying it’s an excuse to drink, wear green and say a few stereotypical one-liners, is more of a sense of longing to belong. Because I have never been around the Irish congregation of my family for longer than a funeral and I haven’t even been to Ireland I literally just have the superficial Irish tropes which everyone simply believes I am playing up rather than being genuinely Irish.

As mentioned before, I don’t have an actual Irish brogue and have traces which when they appear I get told I am putting it on...I am not. Yes I like to drink, particularly Guinness, whisky and gin, yes I like the colour green and cannot remember where the favoritism started. All I know is green is great and green suits me. But I don’t just want to be a stereotypical Irishman.

My ambition in life has always been to travel, one place of interest for me to visit is definitely Dublin to get a feeling of my heritage and my family history.

So in conclusion, I want to thank everyone who has made it this far down and say that while this has been quite a deep and personal post it is also something I hope brings some poiyancy and food for thoughts.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, drink, be merry, stay safe and have a think about what these days and traditions really mean to you. In the mean time post your comments and check out other posts.

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littleawkwardmess · 5 years

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What they don't tell you about adulthood.

6 months into adulthood and it’s already baffled me how ill-prepared I am for this new phase of life. But that is not all…

I was never excited about adulthood. There’s something about that word that triggers nothing but a tinge of fear in me. I guess I’m just too used to the comfort of having things simple and easy. I’m a person of routine and certainty, and adulthood, although is routine, never is certain enough for me. Think of it this way: when you were in school, there’s always a rather clear path– be it finishing a project, or completing an exam, or simply just making it through another lesson. And there’s summer, there are parties and all sort of things that keep your head above the clouds for a while.

But there’s no predetermined path in adulthood. There are so many ways to make it (or not make it) in life that it confuses us. I remember the first time sourcing for houses a few months ago, starting with zero experience. I remember going through houses and houses trying to find the right fit. Some houses were terrible. Some were okay. Some doesn’t even look like how they were on the photos. But no one ever really told us what to look for in a rented house. I guess we were lucky enough to find one that we thought was the ideal house (of course, we didn’t know how to negotiate and check before buying, so we did run into minor issues when we actually live there for a while). After all, we really just did go with our gut feel, and despite minor issues, I guess now we know what to do and what not to do.

Next comes the first few months of work (and the disenchantment of routine). I know I said I’m the person of routine, but ironically, I’m not a fan of repetitive work. I guess when you started your first job; there are tonnes and tonnes of things you don’t know. People tend to underestimate what fresh graduates can do, and because of that, we as fresh graduates sometimes underestimate our own power. We forgot that we’ve spent years in school going through arduous late night projects, pulling all-nighters to get an assignment done or juggling 5-6 projects all the same time. We forgot we are as capable as we believe we can be. And just because the world sometimes treat us as if we were incapable, we should never let that determine our fate. I remember the first month of doing repetitive design work, just because someone above me told me so. I remember saying ‘yes’ to everything because I don’t trust my own guts. I remember struggling to love my job because the things I did were neither what I truly love nor (most of the time) agree with. Only when that ‘supervisor’ was gone and I had to step up and exert my own opinions did I realize they were actually valued. Only at that point in time did I realize I have it in me to make a difference to how I feel about my job every day. I can’t say I’m excited to wake up every day and go to work (because some days are just not my days), but I can safely say there are more days of excitement at work than there are of boredom and disenchantment. But I was lucky. Who knows what had happened if that chance to step up did not just fall from the sky? So if you are a fresh graduate like me who got disenchanted by your job, maybe it’s time you give your self a push and believe that you have it in you.

Now comes routine – the good one that keeps life in order. It takes me at least 2 months to get the right rhythm to my everyday life. Time is always in demand, but the truth is, adulthood makes it so much harder to manage. Every day we spend on average eight to nine hours at work. Some people had it easier (like me), and some people had it worse (shout out to all the all-nighters, the night-shifters, the ones in the ‘wrong’ time zone). Ideally, another seven to eight hours should be for sleep, so we only have eight hours left every day for the rest of our routine. It sounds like a lot, but minus off the commuting time, we are probably left with six hours for eating and resting (some people don’t rest either…). I used to have plans to study language (and many other skills) once I graduated. I used to believe I would have more time once I started working but boy I was so never so wrong. The first 2 months into adulthood, it dawned on me that I truly have very little time every day for anything. I struggled with squeezing in workouts, meal-prepping, meeting up with friends (hardly ever did), and simply getting some downtime to watch my favorite shows. That was when I realize routine is what’s going to make it easier. So I start setting up meal-prepping day, resting day, 1 hour every day after work for working out. It was tough at first, but eventually, once I got the rhythm of it all, things start to fall into place and I find myself more at ease, and even have time to play some board games with friends or binge on my favourite shows. So do establish your own routine. It may sound boring, but it’ll definitely save you time for more exciting stuff.

Lastly, love, friendship and other things in adulthood. The only thing I can say is to treasure people around you. When we were still in school, we didn’t realize how big our social circle actually was. We can have up to 20 friends whom we meet often. We spend the most time in class, at the canteen, and even after class. It was easy to maintain friendship with, let’s say, with at least 10 people then. (Some people have a lot more than that in their social circle but I was very much an introvert so yes I will be humble with the number). But in adulthood, your social circle shrinks and keeping friendship requires effort. Again, I was lucky enough to be staying with some of my friends, so it requires a bit less effort to keep in touch with them. But for the rest of that 10 people I mentioned above, arranging meet-up alone is just a pain. We have our busy schedule, and believe it or not, we all have a ‘going-out’ quota every week too. Some people can afford to go out 6 days a week; some only 2 (I belong to the latter group btw). So it becomes incredibly difficult to keep in touch if we don’t put in the effort ourselves. Same with relationship. Treasure the short moments you have with your loved ones. Treasure those dinners, those weekends lazing around because both of you are too tired to go out (but occasionally please go out, it freshens the relationship). Forgive people if they are late. Forgive people if they complain too much, or if they look gloomy. Chances are they are fighting a battle (at work) you may not know of. Drop them a message randomly if you haven’t heard from them for a while. Be the one to initiate meet-ups even if it sometimes gets nowhere. Truth is, we all just need to know that we are remembered.

There is much more learning to do. I haven’t even touched the area of financial planning (because I’m guilty of delaying it for too long). And then there’s the topic of ‘when will you get married?’, which I also prefer to talk about only when I totally figure it out (I still get a shock whenever I hear someone of my age or slightly older is getting married, so obviously I’m not that used to this topic yet ><).

Adulthood is never easy, but comes with it a lot of space for growing. It’s bizarre to see, but also a wonder to witness how a few months can change you so much. And that did not just happen to me; I saw it in people around me as well. If you are struggling with adulthood, I hope this was helpful, or at least comforting to know there’s a fellow struggler here too. But I do believe we can all make it.

Until then, happy adult-ing!

#thoughts #reflection #adulthood

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storywool · 6 years

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Happy Birthday, Cap

Request: Hey! Can you do Steve Rogers x reader? They fight, argue and tease each other, but secretly in love in love with each other and then one day somethaang happens and it slips?

A/N: So, I kind of went overboard with this one. It was too much fun writing not to go overboard, though. Let me know what you think!!

Word Count: 5,621

It comes once a year, like all holidays do, but this one has a different style. For instance, Christmas is usually characterized by family, love, warmth, and presents. Halloween is characterized by costumes, candy, and the things that lurk in the night. Valentine’s Day is characterized by love, candy, and happiness.

But the fourth of July, aka America’s Independence Day, is characterized by alcohol, grilling, and fireworks. Its energy is chaotic and wild, and takes no prisoners. Even if you’re not American, you celebrate the fourth of July, and if it’s ironic celebration, no one really cares.

Y/n was the latter type of person. She was American, born and raised, but didn’t honestly celebrate the fourth of July with pride. The America she lived in was nothing like the America the founding fathers wanted with they signed the Declaration of Independence back in 1776. The America she knew was tyrannical, evil, and spiteful. The America she knew cared more about its corporations rather than its people, and hundreds of thousands of Americans didn’t even have the resources to celebrate this day. How could they afford fireworks, food, beer, and all the other things associated with the fourth of July when they couldn’t even afford a roof over their head?

Though Y/n felt this way, she did still celebrate the fourth of July. She just kept the heavy chip on her shoulder as a reminder that she’s celebrating what America could have been, not what it currently is. Plus, it was Steve’s birthday, his 100th birthday at that. That was something she would celebrate wholeheartedly. Sam and Y/n worked all night decorating the common room with decorations. The most notable decoration was a piñata of an eagle wearing Uncle Sam’s hat. Y/n found it at a party store and just had to get it. They filled it with red, white, and blue themed candies. They also got loads of streamers, balloons, and a ‘pin the shield on Captain America’ game. She knew Steve would kill her for that one, but it was too good to pass up.

At nine AM that day, most of the compound (Y/n, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, and Natasha) dressed to the nine’s in America themed gear, grabbed noise makers and a speaker, and barged into Steve’s room blasting “Team America”. Y/n, Wanda, and Nat jumped up on Steve’s bed and blew the noise makers in his face until he had no option other than to wake up. When he was mostly awake, they sang “Happy Birthday” at the top of their lungs.

“Hey do you remember that one time I punched Hitler in the face?” Tired Steve asked.

“It’s not like you let us forget it.” Y/n replied as she took a seat on his bed.

“That’s because I want to remind all of you what I’ll do to people who piss me off.” He sighed and pulled the covers over his head. Y/n rolled her eyes and yanked the covers down so he would have to look at her.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to punch me in the face then because I’m not leaving until you get out of bed.” She grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him up to a sitting position.

“Come on Grandpa, it’s not every day you turn 100!” Bucky cheered. Steve traded an ‘eat-shit-and-die’ look with Bucky before sharing that look with Y/n. She just smiled at him, loving the misery she was putting him through.

“Says the guy who is older than me.”

Bucky scoffed, “By one year asshole.”

“Steve, come on. We’ve got lots planned for today!” Y/n pleaded.

Steve groaned loudly before throwing the covers off of himself and exposing his bare chest and boxer shorts. Y/n took a few extra moments to admire his chest and muscles, which were deliciously defined. The group cheered sarcastically as he sluggishly got out of bed.

“Can I have some privacy to get dressed?” Steve asked.

“I guess we can make that happen.” Y/n responded and jumped up from her spot. The group filed out the door, but Steve asked Y/n to stay back for a second. She really didn’t want to just because she knew she’d end up staring at his chest too long.

“Yeah, what’s up?” She tried to sound nonchalant.

Steve grabbed a t-shirt from his closet and threw it on over his head quickly. Y/n involuntarily sighed, letting go of a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding. “What embarrassing things have you planned for today?” He only partially smiled.

Y/n scoffed and crossed her arms. “I’m offended! When have I ever purposely embarrassed you?”

“Every time we go to the grocery store you try to embarrass me.”

“Well maybe they shouldn’t play such funky 80’s music. If they didn’t play that music, I wouldn’t dance in the aisle.”

“That’s a damn lie and you know it.” Steve laughed. Y/n smiled and blushed slightly.

“You also just make it so easy.” Y/n leaned against his dresser. They always bickered like this, ever since Y/n joined the Avengers. It was usually fun, sometimes even flirty, but Y/n and Steve were known to get into an argument every now and then. They often had the same points of views on issues, but they had different ways of going about it. Steve just did whatever he felt like doing, while Y/n paid a little bit more attention to the rules. “Plus,” she added, “You know how I feel about birthdays. I gotta go all out.”

At least he should know how she felt about birthdays. She loved them and loved celebrating them. Life was something to be celebrated, and the day you came into this world should be part of that celebration. There didn’t have to be a big party or lots of presents; as long as you have your friends and loved ones, that’s all you needed.

But a big party definitely helped, especially when you’re Captain America and your birthday is Independence Day. This was New York City, home of Elise Island, so the city tended to go all out with the fireworks and celebrations. Y/n knew that Steve didn’t like fireworks because the noise reminded him of the war, so she thought a party would help to distract him from everything else. At least that was the plan.

“Yes, I do, but you still haven’t answered my question.” Steve said as he tied his shoes.

“Don’t you want to be surprised?”

“Y/n, I hate surprises.”

“No you don’t. You just hate the bad ones. Now come on.” She reached out for his hands, and he placed his in hers hesitantly. She pulled him up from the bed so he was standing and towering over her. God, he was so tall, she thought as she very obviously stared at his plump lips. She had thought about kissing those lips so many times.

Y/n, focus, she told herself.

They exited the bedroom and walked straight into the decorated common room. Steve’s first and only reaction was him rolling his eyes and sighing. “What’s all this?” He asked rhetorically.

“We were just getting ready for tonight.” Nat replied.

He turned to Y/n, “Um, what?”

“Your party, duh.” Y/n answered matter-of-factly. “Big day, lots of stuff planned, remember?”

They all headed to the dining room where they had a delicious breakfast prepared by the onsite chefs. They had eggs, bacon, waffles, and lots of other decadent delights. Once satisfied and full, Y/n clapped her hands, excited to get the attention of the group.

“Okay, so as we all know, we’re celebrating Steve’s 100th birthday today. Not many people make it to 100 and get to look the way he does.” Y/n and Steve traded a small grin, “And as much fun as birthdays are, they’re also reminders that life is short for most people who aren’t genetically modified super soldiers.” Steve and Bucky raised their glasses to each other, which earned a laugh from everyone at the table. “And because life is so short, we- and I mean Bucky and myself- decided that today, you should embrace life’s brevity.” Bucky turned around to a table behind him and grabbed a piece of paper that he handed to Y/n. It read ‘bucket list’ in big, messy handwriting that belonged to none other than Steve Rogers. Y/n turned the paper to face the group.

“Where did you find that?” Steve questioned with a smile on his face. He hadn’t seen that list in forever.

“I was going through some stuff a while back and found it in a box in the back of my closet.” Bucky said. He was also smiling.

“God, I think I made this my senior year?”

“Yep, on prom night after your date ditched you and we decided to get drunk at a park instead.” The two old timers laughed at the memory. Y/n couldn’t help but smile and giggle with them. She loved seeing this side of them. It was so un-Avengers like.

“Buck went on and crossed out anything you’ve already done, like win a metal of armor or,” she pointed to one of the lines and chuckled, “fly in an airplane, and crossed out things that aren’t relevant, like meeting FDR. Anyways, today, Steven Grant Rogers, you are going to complete your bucket list. Well, as much as we can complete before your party at eight.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, Dixie Chick serious.” Y/n said. Steve only understood the Pitch Perfect reference because Y/n forced him to watch it on several occasions. Even though he wasn’t a fan, he liked spending the time with Y/n. She was such a touchy person that they’d almost always end up cuddling in some way, shape, or form on the couch, especially if one of them fell asleep. Honestly, if it weren’t for Y/n, Steve would still be very poorly versed in modern pop culture.

She handed the list to Steve, “Pick which one you want to do first.” He scanned the list, looking for something that stood out to him. He didn’t know which item he wanted to do the most, so he did what any indecisive adult does: he placed the paper on the table, closed his eyes, circled his finger around the paper, and placed his finger on a random spot. He opened his eyes to find his finger on item ten: get a tattoo.

“The finger has spoken.” Y/n joked.

“What’s it saying?” Sam asked.

Steve cleared his throat and dramatically read it. There wasn’t a member in the group that wasn’t super excited. The fossil known as Steve Rogers was going to get a tattoo today.

“Do you even know what you’d get?” Bucky questioned.

Steve chuckled, “Actually no.”

“You could add a layer of excitement and let someone pick it for you.” Nat suggested. Steve mulled the idea over in his head; it would be exciting and spontaneous, both things Steve was notorious for.

“I don’t trust any of you to pick something that will be on my body permanently.”

“Eenie meenie minie mo it.” Y/n recommended.

“Well seeing as you’re the only person at this table with a tattoo, I guess I’d trust your judgment the most.” Steve said, motioning to Y/n. Her face transformed into one of shock. She was certain he would have asked Bucky to pick it out for him, seeing as they were best friends.

“Wait, you don’t want your best friend since high school to pick it for you?” She asked.

“I know nothing about tattoos, especially tattoos in this day and age. You’re the man for this job, Y/n.” Bucky replied. Y/n sighed at the heavy load on her shoulders. She had to pick the perfect first tattoo for Steve.

“Are you okay with that?” Steve asked.

“Oh, definitely. Just give me…an hour to think of something and draw it up.” She got up from the table but turned back to the group before she left, “I can’t go to a tattoo shop and not get one, so Steve, since I’m picking one for you, you have to pick one for me.”

Steve tried his best to hide a smile that was creeping onto his face, but he wasn’t doing a good job. Honestly, he was kind of flattered that Y/n wanted him to pick a tattoo for her. It didn’t help that he was helplessly in love with Y/n, either. To Steve, deciding a tattoo for her was an intimate and personal thing. Y/n was a thoughtful person and deserved a thoughtful tattoo.

“Aye, aye captain.” Steve said.

After their allotted hour passed, Steve and Y/n jumped into the car to head to a shop outside of Manhattan. The others decided not to come so they wouldn’t overcrowd the shop. The shop was owned by one of Y/n’s college friends, so she had been there before and knew it wouldn’t take long. It was also the only place open on a holiday.

To add even more excitement to the experience, Y/n and Steve decided they weren’t going to show each other what they picked out. It took a lot of trust, but Y/n trusted Steve more than anyone else. She knew he wouldn’t pick something she wouldn’t like.

“Is that Y/n Y/L/n?” A guy at the front desk with huge gauges in his ears and sleeves of tattoos on both of his arms asked when the pair walked in.

“Live and in the flesh.” She said as she ran over to give him a hug. “How’ve you been Nic?”

“Eh, can’t complain, just working mostly. What about you?”

“Good, good. Yeah, I actually got recruited to the Avengers about a year ago.”

“No shit, that’s awesome! Always knew you’d go far with that brain of yours.” Nic grinned from ear to ear. Y/n was a genius in school, and though she wasn’t technically a superhero, she was an incredibly useful asset to the Avengers team. Tony recruited her after hearing her graduate school thesis defense on using magnetic waves as intergalactic communication. Tony thought this was important after Thor and Bruce disappeared for months. Her research ended up being crucial for a lot of the work Stark Industries was doing.

“Yeah and this is my partner in crime!” Y/n gestured to Steve.

Nic looked starstruck as his brain processed who was in front of him, “Holy shit, you’re Captain America!” Nic stuck his hand out and Steve shook it hesitantly. He didn’t really want to be nice to someone who appeared to be flirting with Y/n, but this was also the man who was going to permanently paint his skin.

“Pleasure.” Steve said coyly.

“Steve’s actually here to get a tattoo.” Y/n told Nic, breaking the awkward interaction between Nic and Steve.

“Righteous! What are you wanting to get?”

“We actually picked out tattoos for each other, and we want it to be a surprise.” Steve said.

With that, Y/n offered to go first since she knew what the experience would be like and apparently, her tattoo wouldn’t take as long as Steve’s would. Y/n let Steve pick out the spot too, and he picked her inner bicep on her right arm. Steve put a blindfold over her eyes too so she wouldn’t be able to take a peek at it.

“Alright, you ready?” Nic asked.

“Born ready.”

The engine of the tattoo gun hummed deliciously, sending chills up Y/n’s spine. The things people said about getting tattoos were true: once you get one, you can’t stop. It was less painful than it was irritating, but was worth it in the end. Your body is a temple and you should be able to decorate it the way you want. That’s why Y/n had so many tattoos (she had nine and this would be her tenth).

After about thirty minutes, Nic wiped the tattoo one more time. “Okie dokie, you’re done! Go look.” Y/n took off her blindfold and practically ran to the mirror, Steve right on her heels. It was a triangle with a black and white mountain landscape inside the triangle. In between two of the mountain peaks was a rising sun with cute little sun rays coming off of it. There were trees lining the bottom of the mountains with delicate flowers underneath some of the trees. Y/n audibly gasped when she saw it.

Instantly, she knew why Steve picked this tattoo. Y/n very rarely went on missions with the Avengers because, unlike Tony, she didn’t have a super suit. However, one time, they had a mission in Wakanda and needed all hands on deck. Y/n worked in the lab with King T’Challa’s sister, Shuri, on some new technology. During this trip, they had a little downtime, and Y/n really wanted to explore since she had never been to Wakanda. Steve and Y/n went on an expedition to the mountains and they hiked to the highest peak. They had some dinner and a bottle of wine while the sunset; it was absolutely breathtaking and romantic. It was also the first time Y/n realized she was in love with Steve, and the first time Steve realized the same about Y/n.

“Oh my god, I love it.” She whispered breathlessly. Words couldn’t even being to describe the love she felt. She turned from the mirror and threw her arms over Steve’s neck. His hands wrapped around her waist and held on tight- just the way Y/n liked it.

“Thank you.” She whispered in his ear. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to.

Nic finished cleaning up the mess he made during Y/n’s session and called Steve over to the chair. Steve let Y/n pick the location too, and since it was his first tattoo, she picked somewhere that wouldn’t be super obvious- his right shoulder.

Steve’s tattoo took almost an hour once all the shading and line work was said and done. Steve didn’t feel any pain but could tell with a simple glance that his skin was bright red. He jumped up and jogged to the mirror. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the work of art forever etched into his skin. It was done in the traditional style, which was very common back during World War II, and he knew that’s why Y/n picked that style. The tattoo itself was an orange and red phoenix that was surrounded by a white ribbon that read “still I rise”.

The quote came from Steve’s favorite poem, “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou. He first read it shortly after coming out of the ice, when he was catching up on things he missed. After meeting Y/n, who was very involved with civil rights issues, he gave the poem another read, and he realized the importance of it, not just for black people but for women as well. No, Steve was not a black person or a woman, but he grew up poor and sickly, was bullied his whole life, and was an orphan. He understood some of the struggles people could face. That poem resonated with him.

Adding the quote with the phoenix, the symbol of rebirth, was surreal for him. He knew that the phoenix was supposed to symbolize his return from the ice, to emphasize his resilience. The phoenix gave the quote even more personal meaning; like a phoenix from the ashes, still he’ll rise. Also, the traditional style was one of his favorites, and one of his best friends drew the tattoo.

He was at a loss for words. It was everything he had expected and more. It was pretty badass, too, which was essential for America’s favorite superhero.

“You like?” Y/n asked at Steve’s unusual quietness. He turned from the mirror to face Y/n; their eyes made contact and it seemed like the world around them completely disappeared. It was just them, sharing this unintended intimate moment.

“It’s amazing. Thank you.” He said in an almost sultry voice. Chills ran up and down Y/n’s spine, and she did her best to conceal the shiver. It didn’t really go unnoticed by Steve.

A loud noise behind them pulled them from their weird trance. The noise was just Nic cleaning up and he accidentally dropped something. Y/n and Steve awkwardly paid and made their way back to the compound. Y/n stared at her saran-wrapped arm the whole ride home. She couldn’t get over how good it looked and how well it matched her aesthetic.

“You really do like it, right?” Y/n questioned, filling the silence in the car.

“No I hate it. I already scheduled an appointment to get it removed.” Steve traded a glance with Y/n. She laughed sarcastically.

After arriving home and showing the rest of the group their new tattoos, the group decided to tackle another bucket list item. This time, everyone could participate, since item fifteen- ride every ride at Coney Island- was something everyone could do. Coney Island had expanded a lot since Steve’s last go around on a rollercoaster there, so there would be plenty of fun to be had. They even bought express passes when they got there so they didn’t have to wait in the crazy long lines that holidays usually brought to Coney Island.

Y/n knew being back here would be weird for Steve and Bucky, since the last time they were here was back when Bucky went into the army. If it was bothering them though, they made no indication of such. The group was thankful for this because they could all have fun. Even the crowds were having fun seeing these large, built men and women trying to fit in the little rollercoaster carts.

The best part of Coney Island though was the photo booth that was set up near the food vendors. Y/n loved those things and excitedly tugged on Steve’s sleeve like a child when she saw it. “Can we do it, please?!” She begged. He tried to act like he didn’t want to do it, but Y/n knew he was just as excited as she was.

The photo booth was too small to fit anyone other than Steve and Y/n in it, but the others said they were fine with not being in the pictures. They climbed in the booth and Steve fed the machine a dollar, giving them no time to prepare the pictures. In the first one, Y/n slugged her arm around Steve’s neck and pulled him into a side hug while making whatever weird face she could. The second picture was of Y/n with her arm still around Steve, but she did bunny ears behind his head. The third picture was the funniest by far because when Y/n was removing her arm, she accidentally punched Steve in the face right when the camera clicked. They were laughing too hard to do anything for the last one.

When they saw the pictures though, Y/n knew instantly that the last one was her favorite. Her eyes were closed because she was laughing so hard, but Steve was staring at her with this look in his eyes, like he had never seen anything so beautiful. Y/n looked at the picture and saw love in Steve’s eyes. Of course, she didn’t say anything to Steve about it for fear of making things awkward. She was content, for the moment, with the fact that she knew what the look was about.

They stayed at the park until about six, when Y/n suggested they head back to the compound to get ready for the party. They packed into cars, drove to the Avengers compound, and went to their separate rooms. Y/n took a shower, making sure to wash her tattoo well, and dressed in a casual, but cute outfit. She knew she’d be doing a lot of dancing, plus no one dresses nicely for a fourth of July party. She put on a nice, loose navy top, denim shorts, and brown sandals. After dressing, she put a little bit of makeup and blow dried her hair. It was almost 7:30 by the time she was done.

When she was finished getting ready, she went out to the common room to finish setting up. Since they put up most of the decorations earlier, it was quick and easy. They just had to set up the food table and take the cake out to thaw. They also got coolers filled with alcohol ready.

Steve came out not too much later, dressed in a gray v-neck and dark blue jeans. The shirt was cut just right, so anyone looked at him would see a good bit of his defined chest, and his jeans hugged him in all the right places. His hair was still messy and wet from his shower, and Y/n could tell he touched up his beard a bit. Y/n had one thought when she saw him: snack. He was looking so delicious she just wanted to grab a fork and dig in.

“Is anyone home?” Steve waved his hand in front of Y/n’s face. Apparently, she had zoned out while she was thinking about all the things she’d do to Steve if she could.

“What?” She shook her head to bring her back to reality- and sanity.

“Do you need help?”

She glanced at the time on her phone. It was about ten minutes until eight, which is when people were supposed to show up. All the Avengers were there already, as was some none Avengers like Scott Lang, Maria Hill, and Sharon Carter. Y/n was wary about inviting Sharon since Steve had a weird history with her, but he said that they both agreed to just be friends. Y/n hoped things wouldn’t get awkward between the two tonight.

At eight o’clock sharp, people started to file into the large room. The walls vibrated from all the noise and the temperature in the room seemed to skyrocket. Never before had this many people occupied this room, and none of the Avengers really knew how to feel about it. It was exciting, but weird. Thankfully, the alcohol was flowing and for most of them, that was a good thing. Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky couldn’t get drunk, but that didn’t mean the others couldn’t have some fun.

Y/n was feeling a pretty good buzz by about nine o’clock. The sun had set completely by that point, and firework shows all around the city were starting. Most of the party guests had moved on to the deck- except for one. Y/n found Steve resting on the balcony outside of his room, which was away from everyone else.

“Why is the birthday boy not at his own party?” She asked when she found him. He jumped, not expecting someone to walk up behind him.

“Jesus, Y/n, you scared me.”

She apologized as she took the seat next to him. “What are you doing out here? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Hiding from you.” He said jokingly. “No, I just needed a minute. Lots of people.”

“Oh I know right. I did not expect this many people to say yes.” She took a swig of her drink Sam made for her; he called it “the Capsicle” and boy was it strong. She handed the cup to Steve but he shook his head no. “Suit yourself.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a little bit just watching the fireworks explode all over the city. Steve was the first person to break the silence, “You know, I used to love fireworks. I used to act like they were a little birthday present for me.”

“Dude, you’re the human embodiment of America. These fireworks are for America, so in some ways, they are for you.”

“It’s not the same anymore. Maybe I’m just an old man, but they’re too loud nowadays…reminds me of bombs.”

“So why are you out here alone then?”

“I’m not alone now am I?”

“No one’s ever truly alone, especially you Steve. You have an army of people behind you that would do anything for you. That includes distracting you from things you don’t like. Why do you think I threw you this party?” Y/n said sincerely. She would genuinely do anything for him. She knew only a handful of others that she would do just about anything for. The great thing was she knew Steve would do the same for her in a heartbeat.

Steve looked at her, waiting for her answer. She rolled her eyes, “I knew you didn’t like fireworks, so I threw a huge party with all these people hoping it would distract you. But then you had to come out here and be all mope-y and brooding…defeats the purpose.”

Steve stared at her, similar to the way he looked at her during their photo booth shoot. She had the biggest heart of anyone he knew; she was so compassionate, empathetic, and loving. She always found the positives in life, even when the whole world around her was dark.

“Thank you for the party…actually for everything.” Steve said so quietly that the moment turned from friendly to intimate. Steve was being sincere and he needed Y/n to know that. “You’ve completely changed my life since Stark recruited you, and I know the others feel the same.”

Y/n was touched but found it hard to believe. “You’re just saying that.”

Steve angled his body so he was facing Y/n directly; Y/n mimicked his body language unconsciously. “No, I mean it. Y/n, you keep us human. You help to remind us, to remind me, that there is still good out there. Every moment, no matter how terrible, has something positive about it. Stark has said multiple times that Stark Industries and the Avengers would not be where they are today if it weren’t for the work you’re doing. And he’s not just talkin’ about work in the lab. You’ve changed every one of us in some way. Stark’s nicer, Bucky smiles more because of your dumb jokes, Wanda’s more sociable-”

Y/n cut him off, “And you? What could I possibly change about you?” She had to know since his opinion of here was the one she cared about most.

Steve stared into her eyes. He knew what he wanted to say, but didn’t know if now was the time. If Y/n has taught her anything though, it was that life is short. ‘Embrace life’s brevity’ was what she said early. She was right- Steve needed to embrace life’s brevity. He never knew if he was going to get another tomorrow, or even another tomorrow with her.

The words ran off his tongue, like these were the words he was always meant to say, “You’ve helped me fall helplessly in love with you…not that that was hard to begin with.”

Y/n was dumbfounded. Out of all the ways she imagined tonight to go down, Steve admitting he was in love with her was not one of them.

“What?” She said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/n, I’m in love with you, and I have been since I met you. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin things, and because things are just so great the way they are, but I can’t deny myself the simple pleasure of admitting my feelings to my best girl.”

Y/n blushed a hundred shades of red and felt tears sting her eyes. She couldn’t believe that he was being sincere. Captain America was in love with her- a nerd from upstate New York with a bad temper and the coordination of a baby deer. Steve Rogers, in all his 6’0” glory, was in love with her. It just didn’t make sense. Yes, she was completely head over heels for him, but for him to feel the same way felt foreign.

Y/n was sure she was dreaming, but even if it was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up anytime soon.

Steve was taken aback by her silence. He was sure she felt the same way; all the signs were there. He was starting to grow embarrassed at the thought of him emptying his heart out to someone who didn’t feel the same way.

He opened his mouth to say something, but in a moment of pure courage (and maybe with some help from the alcohol), Y/n crossed the space between them. She took Steve’s face between her hands and brought his lips to hers, crashing them together in a kiss that knocked the wind from her lungs. On instinct, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her onto his lap while her hands found their way around his neck and into his hair.

The stolen kiss tasted like salt but felt sweet as chocolate. It was passionate, fervent, and delicious, but also delicate. It felt like worlds were colliding in the kiss. Neither one of them really wanted to pull away but had to once breathing became more difficult.

“I love you, too.” Y/n whispered lovingly after a few moments had passed. She cupped his face gently and stared longingly into his eyes. Oh, how she had waited for this moment. She pulled him into another, calmer kiss. She smiled a playful grin, “Come on, time to open your present.”

She climbed off his lap and pulled him up by his hand. “Oh really? What is it?”

“It’s less of a what, and more of a who.” She replied seductively. Steve was no longer fighting her grip and let her drag him into his bedroom.

“Happy birthday, Cap.” She whispered before they became consumed with lust, with each other’s bodies. They found their way between the silk sheets and for a moment, everything was exactly as it should be: pure and raw and full of love.

Tagged: @mickeyimagines

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nanuri169 · 6 years

Text

Candy Shop Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Summary: Alexis is the leader of a small, but thriving community, hidden deep in the woods. It seemed that the people living there have found a small, fragile understanding of peace. How long can a quiet life last when Negan finds them and shows interest in what the small colony has to offer?

Chapter 5:

Alexis regretted taking Marcus to the scavenging trip the minute they walked out of the gate to meet the Saviors. He had a scowl on his face when Negan hopped out of his car, greeting them with a wide grin that lingered on Alexis.

"Behave."

She whispered after elbowing Marcus. He just glared at her to which Alexis rolled her eyes. Usually he was quite the expert on scavenging. Marcus had an eye for things and found hidden treasures quite often. But he was obviously distracted. Since Negan left yesterday, he had annoyed Alexis with small remarks about how the leader of the Saviors looked at her as if she was some tasty piece of meat.

But she couldn't understand why he bothered so much. Alexis and Marcus never intended to have a serious relationship. It was nothing more than sex. They trusted each other and Alexis valued his advice highly, but there never would be anything romantic. Not mixing politics with emotions was her number one rule and she had this slight feeling that Marcus didn't get that.

"You ready to find some shit?"

Negan playfully wrapped his arm around Alexis' shoulders, but she immediately shrugged him off. God, this would seriously end in some giant pissing contest between Marcus and Negan if she wasn't careful.

"Yep. Where are we going?"

She scanned who was sitting in the car. He had brought three other people, one of them being Simon in the other truck. In total they were seven now, which was a proper group size for a smaller scavenging trip.

"Surprise, darling."

Rolling her eyes again, she wanted to walk towards the truck with her people, but Negan stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"You're coming with me, Lexi."

"Are you serious?"

For the second time today, she shrugged him off.

"Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely."

His attention had shifted from Alexis to Marcus. The latter threw death glares at the other leader and Negan obviously didn't like it. How stupid could Marcus be to mess with him? Did he really want to destroy all that Alexis had built.

"Marcus. You and Jerry go in there. Now."

Her voice was dangerously low, the tip of her bat pointing towards the truck, not leaving anything up to discussion. Marcus gaze shifted to Alexis and he opened his mouth to argue, but then remembered how Alexis usually reacted to disrespect. With gritted teeth, he walked towards Simon's truck together with another one of their communities' man.

"He's your boyfriend?"

Negan held open the car's door for her, his eyes still on the man that just joined Simon. He had yet to learn that Negan couldn't stand being looked at like this.

"No. We're just fucking."

Alexis said bluntly and let herself fall into the seat. She could hear Negan's chuckle through the closed door, while he walked around the vehicle to get inside himself. Starting the engine, he pulled into the dirt road in front of the truck.

"You could get every guy on this planet into your panties and you really keep yourself a fuckboy?"

The young woman surely didn't miss that Negan just admitted that he really found her attractive, but she kept her face void of emotion.

"Well, since the biters are particularly nasty in bed, there's quite the lack of choice. But we can also stop pretending that you don't fuck around quite much at home, can't we?"

This topic was way too personal for Alexis' liking and it was seriously none of his business, but as usual he just wouldn't shut up.

"Hey, I don't fuck around. I just screw my wives. I'm a good pal."

A frown formed on her forehead when she heard the term 'wives'. She better not imagine what that meant.

"Wives? Plural? You keep yourself a harem?"

Negan laughed, his eyes darkening when he thought about the pretty young women that were just there to pleasure him.

"Damn straight. They chose to live that way and seriously, who the fuck cares for that old rules? We do whatever the hell we want, because we make rules, right?"

Shrugging, she had to admit that he had a point. People like Negan and Alexis were the winners of the apocalypse. She didn't know how his life looked before everything went down, but Alexis was far away from being in charge of anything.

"What have you been doing before the world went down?"

To be honest, the question slipped her lips more or less involuntarily. Of course she was curious, but she had sworn herself to not get into such personal with Negan. Here she was, asking him one of the most sensitive questions she could up.

"You won't believe it, but I was that normal suburban guy. A gym teacher."

His expression darkened a little when Negan thought about his past, surprising himself that he told Alexis without hesitation. He wouldn't say that he trusted her, but he was sure that she wouldn't take advantage of such knowledge.

Alexis' expression was unreadable, but then this small, rare smile crossed her lips.

"Yeah, I can't really believe that. You, a teacher? That kids sure as hell went out of school with the pottiest mouths ever."

Negan couldn't help but let out one of these booming, genuine laughs when he remembered these times. It had been easier, but he had to admit he didn't really miss it. He was better off now. He nearly overlooked a bump in the road and Alexis clutched the armrest tightly.

"I loved chasing those kid's asses around. But I was everyone's favorite teacher. And yeah, swearing got me into trouble quite often. What was your guess at my job?"

Sparing her a side glance, he grinned to himself. Breaking through her hard facade and making her loose up a bit was his favorite task these days.

"I don't know, owner of a strip club would've come to my mind."

Her pearly white teeth flashed as she hid a laugh from erupting. Negan chuckled and suddenly ripped the stirring wheel around, to which Alexis growled lightly in annoyance to his harsh driving.

"Would've probably brought me more money. But I'm seriously not good at sharing the pussies that belong to me."

She felt the hooded gaze her gave her and Alexis shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to keep up her composure. One second he made her laugh, the other he was again this offensive, trying to make her a offer she ignored.

"I guess you won't have to share anything if you drive us to death."

Smiling in success to make her uncomfortable, he ignored her remark and returned back to the questionnaire.

"Well, Lexi, how did you earn your bucks? Stripper? Table dance?"

She rolled her eyes at the whole question. Slowly she was giving up to correct him from calling her Lexi. It was hopeless to get this through his thick skull anyway.

"I was a teacher, too. English and computer sciences."

Negan's head now fully turned around and he looked her up and down in surprise.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me. I can totally imagine that, nerdy glasses, short skirt, to make it a hard time for those poor boys in your class. Hell, I would've screwed your brains out to no end."

There was a time Alexis probably would've fallen for a guy like him. But that girl had died when undead fucks started to eat people. That girl wasn't the mother of a beautiful daughter.

"Don't get your ego up, I wouldn't have let you. I was married."

Her hands clenched into fists when she let that fact slip. Of course it wasn't anything that would endanger her or her people but this conversation was taking a turn in the whole wrong direction.

"Me too. But be fucking honest with yourself, would that have stopped any of us?"

She wanted to shoot him a glare, but then her sharp eyes fell on something in the far. It could've been nothing, but she had to check.

"Stop the car, Negan!"

The leader of the Saviors frowned and glanced into the rear mirror shortly.

"Wha-"

"Stop the fucking car!"

He stepped on the brake, hoping that Simon would react quick enough to not shove the truck into the car Negan drove.

Alexis already had the door open when the vehicle came to an abrupt halt. She jumped out of the car, earning her confused glances from all the men in the cars. Holding her hand above her brows, she shielded her eyes from the burning sun.

"Are you nuts?"

She heard Negan's angry voice faintly, she was too concentrated.

"Shut up!"

Her voice was barely a mumble. Simon now stood next to her, too staring into the distance. He seemed to see it, too. There was something that looked like a flat building, but it was covered by bushes, trees and vines. Then Alexis thought about the maps that laid on her desk in her office and remembered that in those woods that were in front of them had been a hiking trails. And sometimes at the beginning of such trails, there were supply stores. They just had to check. It looked like no one had been here for long.

"Boss, you should look at this."

Simon called Negan, who came out of the car with a groan. His right hand man held out a pair of binoculars for him. He looked through it and Alexis could see that grin spread on his face again.

"Lexi, I fucking love your eagle-eyes."

Alexis was filled with excitement as she motioned for the other men to come out of the truck. They did a short briefing, in which a problem rose up. The cars wouldn't come much closer. The group had to walk the short distance to the building, which was always a risk. Walkers tended to appear out of nowhere sometimes.

Anyway, they took the risk and were rewarded for that. Without any incidents, they got through the already plant covered area. No one had been here in a long time. It was one of these rare places that were forgotten as in the beginning, nobody bothered to look at a lonely store close to the woods and now that nature took it back, no one could see it. Adding to that, it was definitely Savior territory, so people better stayed far away.

Alexis and Negan led the small group walking side by side, clearing the way. Peeking inside, the store seemed rather quiet, but that didn't mean anything. When they walked inside, they knew why it was better to be careful: two heavily decayed biters stumbled towards them. They must've heard them coming as they were already halfway towards the door.

Before any of their people could even pull a weapon out, Negan and Alexis were inside and simultaneously bashed their bats into the creatures' heads, letting them drop to the floor after the first, heavy swing.

When they looked up to see the store nearly untouched and full of supplies, both leaders couldn't help but grin widely and doing something that would definitely become their interpretation of a high-five: Alexis held out her bat and Negan lightly prodded Lucille against it.

Simon grinned lightly to himself and spared a look at Marcus, who obviously didn't like that his leader got along so well with Negan. But both of them were sure that these two together were a force to be reckoned with.

After the moment of simply enjoying the sight of a full stuffed store, the leather clad backs parted ways and started on their mission to get as much stuff out of here as possible. They wouldn't get it emptied all at once, so they had to get back some times soon.

Food supplies were of course the most important, but tents, sleeping bags and clothing were too very interesting. An outdoor store was heaven for a scavenging trips, because those always had been the closest to be useful during an apocalypse. The food wasn't tasty, but edible for a long time and the other stuff was practical and durable.

Alexis ignored Marcus' stares the whole time and worked together with Simon. He actually seemed to be a nice guy. They kept some small talk and laughed a lot, which was quite refreshing.

"Hey, quit the fucking flirting. Sy won't leave my ass behind for your pretty boobs, won't he?"

Negan padded Simon's shoulder harshly and laughed. His mood was at its apex, it was obvious.

"Well, you know that I'd do much for a pretty girl..."

Simon laughed and Alexis just shook her head lightly smiling.

"Not that one. Territory's marked here."

Grinning, Negan looked over his shoulder to Marcus, his statement definitely ambiguous. But Alexis didn't even notice. She was distracted by the high shelves. Some cans were up so high, not even Negan or Simon could reach them and they were really tall. Pre-apocalypse they must've used ladders for them, but there were none to be seen.

Without further warning, Negan suddenly wrapped his arm around her thighs and lifted her up with ease. Alexis slapped her hand to her mouth to keep herself from shrieking and was ready to unleash a salve of insults, but she kept it in. After taking a deep breath, she swallowed the colorful language that described her distaste for his rude manners and started roaming through the high up shelves, finding lots of useful stuff, including first aids kits and some vitamin pills. She let them fall into a duffel bag that held out by Simon.

"You'd do literally anything to get my ass into your face, right?"

Alexis usually hated to rely on anyone, even in the smaller sense. She didn't like to be carried and things like that, because there was always a chance that she would be dropped. But somehow Negan's strong arms felt safe, he was probably the last guy who would accidentally drop her.

"Fucking true, sweetheart."

When he placed her back on her feet, the group was done raiding the most important things. They all carried at least three large, heavy bags when they stepped out of the building.

"Boss...?"

They just stepped back through the thick bushes when one of Negan's men in front of them came to a sudden halt. Alexis peeked around him only to see something that horrified her deeply.

It wasn't just one herd, it were two. They were directed towards each other, close to the cars. For some time, Alexis already noticed that the behavior of the biters changed. There were less loners stumbling around, they tended to gather in herds. What was even more frightening was that they were rotting grossly day by day, but they were obviously getting quicker. The unsatisfied hunger for fresh meat was probably making them faster.

There was a slim chance that they could get to the cars unnoticed, but they sure as hell wouldn't get away until the walkers passed. Of course they could also go back into the store, but it was obvious that the old door wouldn't keep them safe if the creatures noticed them and Alexis could already hear groaning coming from the woods behind them. They were cornered and every decision could lead to their instant death.

But Alexis was a leader. She needed to make those decisions.

"To the cars, now!"

She whisper-yelled and before anyone could even open their mouth, she already ran towards the vehicles.

Tag List:

@greengellybean

#negan #negan x oc #negan's thirst squad #sanctuary #walking dead #zombie #love #multichapter #simon #saviors #walkers #negan fanfiction #twd negan

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