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finelinevogue · 1 year

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starry eyes

summary - harry’s the captain of the ice-hockey team and there’s a house party to celebrate their win

warnings: alcohol and weed consumption, alcohol anxiety, house party, lots of kissing

word count: +3.2k

pairing: ice-hockey boyfriend!harry x college!reader

You arrived to the party late.

It was kind of your thing though, turning up late. If it weren’t for your boyfriend, Harry, you’d turn up to events weeks late or even weeks in advance. He was your personal calendar reminder, but unfortunately he had drunk too much beer to remind you what time the party was starting.

It had been the last game of the ice-hockey season and Harry, the captain, had brought it home with the final goal. He had scored and won for the entire team, which is why the whole school was now celebrating in his frat house.

Being the captain’s girlfriend, you had an obligation to be there but you’d take the opportunity to get drunk with Harry any day. Feeling euphoric with him was another planet of love.

“You ready to get fucked tonight?” Kora asked, laughing after coming out of the bathroom with a small bag of white powder.

“You already are fucked, babe.” You laughed, standing in front of your full length mirror and adjusting your dress. Harry had always told you that you could arrive to his parties in joggers and you’d still be the prettiest girl there, but you wanted to put a little more effort into yourself tonight.

Your black dress hugged your body perfectly and you actually felt really hot. Your tights were really sheer and had darker black hearts running up and down the length of them, your ankles and feet covered by your Docs. Your outfit didn’t show much colour so you added one of Harry’s red checkered flannels over your dress. Leaning into the mirror you rubbed your fingers under your eyes to smear away the mascara that had fallen.

“And you’re going to get fucked, our darling Y/N, by your champion of a boyfriend.” Sloane wolf whistled at you as you checked yourself out.

You blushed thinking about Harry’s reaction to your outfit and just getting to see you in general. You hadn’t managed to see him since the game and so you were eager to see him and kiss him for all he was worth.

“We ready ladies?” Bertie asked, picking up his phone and holding it out to take a group picture before you all left.

It turned out to be a video of you all being excited to party that Bertie added to his story, which you only knew because Harry texted you almost instantly after it was uploaded.

H🫂: juust saw berts story. get here quick but get here safe. i need to kisss youuuuu xxxx

He made you giggle with his text and everyone teased about how your relationship was still in the honeymoon phase 2 years after you’d got together.

It wasn’t a long walk over to Harry’s house, but it took you longer because you were all drunk walking and Kora needed to wee behind a rose bush.

The frat house was so busy to the point people were queueing up outside just to get in. The people outside the front door had created a party outside just to keep them drunk before they got inside, afraid to be sober upon entry. All of the ice-hockey team and their significant others would already be inside, since they all had first priority access. That’s the only reason you walked to the front of the queue, because you knew the bouncer and he’d let you in instantly.

“Suckers!” Kora shouted at all the young teenagers that were here to get a glimpse of their ice-hockey team players rather than actually get drunk.

The bouncer let you inside easily, along with your trail of friends. Each of you were just as drunk as the other, but maybe Kora was a different kind of drunk to the rest of you.

Once you were inside you were greeted with a chorus of hellos, since you were quite well known thanks to Harry. That and the fact you were known for being the kindest person on campus. You were always there to help others and never cared who someone was or where they came from. You were a good person and that’s why people trusted you enough to be friends with.

After hugging a few people, you made your way to the kitchen to take a few more shots.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see where Mitch was calling your name. You smiled and waved him over. Mitch was Harry’s best friend and regular weed supplier. Some nights you and Harry would drive to the beach and escape college life for a night, whilst sharing a blunt or two. It wasn’t something you and Harry did regularly, but it was nice to feel a different kind of high for the night.

“Mitch, hey bud!” You raised your shot glass up to him and then knocked it back with a sour face. “Congrats on the win!”’

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him slightly, not hugging him too tightly because you reserved the best hugs for Harry only.

“Thank you, yeah.”

He pulled his blunt out of his mouth and passed it over to you. You held it between your fingers and took a heavy drag of it, letting it burn the back of your throat before blowing the air back out. When you’d puffed it back out, you handed it back over to Mitch thanking him.

You normally would’ve taken more of a hit from Mitch’s stash, but you weren’t really keen on getting high tonight, Getting drunk was enough. Plus you’d rather get high off Harry.

“Y’seen H?” You asked.

“Saw him about.. twenty minutes ago.”

You nodded and stood next to him as you watched the rest of the room become electric. The music was playing some house party playlist off Spotify, you could tell. There was a group of people dancing with each other, another group playing beer pong and then just people dotted everywhere talking, shouting, to each other in conversation.

Many of the team players were hooking up with their respective girlfriends and boyfriends, only making you crave Harry that much more.

You kept bringing your bottle of red up to your lips to swing as you watched the room like it was a movie on a TV screen, laughing when you saw other people laugh.

Bertie came into the room with his boyfriend in towe, Alex, who was also on the ice-hockey team. Both of them served themselves drinks whilst talking to you.

“Hey, Alex, have you seen Harry?” You asked yet another team member of Harry’s.

“Um, not for a while, no. Sorry.” He shrugged and wrapped an arm around Bertie’s waist.

You smiled softly, but inside your heart was breaking over not finding Harry sooner. You were getting anxious to see him now and the alcohol was going to cause tears if you weren’t careful.

“Hey, Mitch?” You poked the guy next to you, who was passing his secret stash onto Bertie and Alex.

“Hm?” He leaned down so he could hear you better.

“I’m going to go try and find Harry.” You pointed to the exit of the room and Mitch nodded in understanding. He got out his phone and texted Harry that you were looking for him as well. He was a good friend.

Mitch made you check your phone just in case Harry had sent you a message, but your phone had no service since there was so many people in the building. You sighed and tucked your phone back into the flannel shirt pocket, with shaky hands. That was your first sign a breakdown was on its way if you didn’t find Harry soon.

You could handle your alcohol quite well normally, but only because you drank within your limits if Harry wasn’t with you. If Harry was with you, you didn’t mind drinking a bit excessively because you knew you had him to take care of you and be the emotional support blanket required if the alcohol turned into a breakdown. So, the fact you hadn’t found Harry yet and you’d definitely exceeded your alcohol limits made you very anxious and very aware of how tipsy you were.

You were glad you wore your Docs.

The amount of people that were crammed into the house was impossible, making it very difficult for you to see anyone beyond two people. People kept on tapping your shoulder and expecting a conversation out of you, but you had to politely decline because you only wanted to find Harry for now. You weren’t focused on anything other than finding Harry.

“Excuse me. Excuse me, please. Sorry.” You repeated over and over again as you tried to push through the crowds of people.

Thirty minutes later and you were entering a new room, this one even more crowded than the last. It was very loud in here too, or maybe it was because you were sobering up after looking for Harry for so long. You were simply going round and round in circles, but nobody seemed to know where he was.

Your heart was pounding what felt like outside of your chest from the anxiety the alcohol was giving you. You pulled the flannel around you and the collar up to your nose momentarily, breathing in Harry’s cologne just to feel like he was somewhat close to you. You continued through the crowd, getting pushed back by random people and your feet getting trodden on by dancing feet.

“Y/N!” Harry’s voice shouted over the crowd so loud you were worried that he would shatter his voice.

“Harry?” You questioned quietly to yourself, spinning in circles trying to find the source of his voice.

“Y/N!” His voice shouted louder and your eyes teared up after thinking it was just your mind playing tricks on you, after wanting him so desperately.

Then you saw him push a drunk guy out of his way to reach him. He smiled brightly when he saw you and you pushed through some more people to reach him, your brows furrowed in determination to reach him.

Your heart slowly healed itself as you got closer to him, feeling more and more comfortable and safe by the second.

When you finally met him, you went straight in for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his waist and you squeezed tight, swaying slightly as you held him close. The moment felt infinite and you wished it could’ve been as he wrapped his own arms around you, picking you off the ground slightly and onto your tiptoes. You laughed as he spun you in a little circle, holding on tight to you.

You laughed and loosened your hold on him to finally look at him. Both of you kept ahold of each other as you looked at each other, hazy eyes burning into one another’s.

“You look so beautiful.” Harry said softly and even though the room was booming with loud music, you could make out every word he said perfectly.

“You won.” You congratulated him on his game win and he nodded his head lightly.

“I was looking everywhere for you.” He said. “Been going round in circles for an hour looking for you.”

“Me too.” You laughed, cupping his cheeks in the palm of your hands. His cheeks were warm from the flush of pink that was drawn out by the beers he’d drunk.

“I thought you might’ve just been late, but then Mitch said he’d just talked to you and that he hadn’t smoked enough to hallucinate yet.”

You dipped your head and rested your forehead on Harry’s firm chest, right over where his heart was beating rapidly with the anxiety of finding you. Turns out you had both been as desperate as the other to find each other. Your arms dipped too, snaking around his neck and hugging him close again. Harry’s arms relaxed on your middle, underneath his flannel shirt.

Someone then bumped into the back of you and you turned around to see who it was, but Harry had already cupped the back of your head to keep it safe from any more bumps, whilst shouting, “Hey, watch where you’re going will you?”

He was known for being too kind to actually start a fight, but people did know not to mess around with you otherwise there would be an issue. Luckily the guy apologised to you both and everything was fine.

“You okay?” He asked, leaning over so you could hear him.

You nodded against his chest and brought your head out from hiding. His eyes were as bright as the stars that hung in the night sky and all because you made him feel that way.

“Can we go?” You nodded your head in the direction of the door, wanting to escape this sweaty room with all the drunk dancing people.

“‘Course.”

Harry took a tight hold on your hand and walked through the sea of people towards the door. Every time you lagged a little behind him, due to someone dancing a little too hard, he would wait patiently for you to squeeze through whilst still holding your hand tight.

You were half-way to exiting, when he stopped right in front of you and pushed you a little ahead of him. Both of you were still holding onto one another's hand, but this time you were leading.

“Can see whether you’re alright this way.” Harry had explained the reasoning to you.

You continued to move through the crowd and look back at Harry for reassurance every now and then, but before you could count to ten you were out of the room and could breathe again.

Harry quickly tugged on your hand and pulled around the bannister and up the stairs, making you shuffle along behind him. People were passing by and trying to stop Harry for a chat or a photo, but he kept on walking past with a smile with his only focus on you in his hand.

You knew he was taking you to the hideout upstairs.

The hideout was a small room at the top of the house, in the attic, that was filled with a pool table and video games on one side of the room and then the other was equipped with beanbags and blankets. It was yours and Harry’s favourite place to come to if you both wanted each other alone for a while, since no one ever bothered to come up here during a party. It was made even safer by the fact it had a pin-code to even get into the room.

Once you were both in the attic, alone, Harry walked you over to the beanbags in the furthest corner and flopped himself down backwards, making a dramatic sigh as he did so. You watched him with a smile as you did so, trying to cover it up when you noticed him looking at you with starry eyes again.

“Well, c’mere then.” Harry tugged on your hand to make you fall down next to him, but not hard enough to actually make you move.

“Actually.. I think I’m going to…”

You pretended to walk away but Harry was quick to sit up and pull you back to him, stronger this time so you did fall onto him. You laughed on your way down, cautious of where your knees landed in case you hurt Harry.

“No. You’re staying here, with me.” Harry wrapped his arms around your waist and held you against his body. Laying flat on top of Harry you felt safer than ever and were glad you went through those moments alone to get to this one.

You hummed peacefully as you snuggled your face into his neck, breathing the same cologne that had been on his flannel shirt - only this time it was stronger.

One of Harry’s hands pulled your dress back down your bum so if anyone walked in they wouldn’t get a free show. It was little gestures like that which made you so aware that you’d chosen the right guy to fall in love with. It was a gesture so small that people might even miss it, or call it insignificant, but to you it only made your heart grow for him more.

“Missed you today.” You said, your voice slightly muffled from being so pressed up against Harry’s body.

“Yeah? I missed you too.” Harry’s hand had now slid underneath the flannel shirt and was rubbing up and down over your back, a feeling so comforting you could call it home.

“You always get too busy on game days and I don’t get to kiss you enough. It’s unfair.”

“It is unfair, baby. I agree. I’m free to kiss you now though.”

“I know. I’m choosing to cuddle with you instead, in case you’re needed again tonight and you can’t sleep over at mine.” You lightly admitted to not being able to sleep without him by your side.

“Screw whoever needs me. I’m sleeping at yours tonight and we’re sleeping good.” His arms tightened around you protectively, afraid someone would ruin the moment.

“But maybe we can kiss a bit too?”

“Never going to say no to you, baby.”

You moved your head out of his neck and hovered it above his. You felt his hands move out from underneath the flannel and up to cup the back of your head gently. One of your hands stayed by your side and the other came up to cup his cheek again.

Both of you gazed your eyes over each other, sometimes dipping down to see your lips. Harry then pushed your head forwards with his hand and sealed your lips with you. He tasted exactly the remnants of the party downstairs, with a lovely mix of beer and whatever else he had been drinking.

You moaned when his lips pushed a little deeper, making your head follow his in an effort to not part your lips. Harry pried your mouth open with his tongue and made short work of tasting you all over, noting the taste of weed on your tongue. He tasted cherry sours too and it only made him crave more of you.

“I… love.. You… So much.” Harry said in between kisses, not wasting a single second more to tell you. You always knew it, but it was always a bright moment to hear it again and again.

You hummed in agreement, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He turned his body so yours fell off his and back onto the beanbag carefully. His body then hovered over yours, the weight of his chest pressing against yours and grounding you to him. You’d never felt so safe and loved.

You tried lifting your head to kiss him again, but his lips weren’t puckered ready for yours.

“No. Say it first.”

“I love you.” You told him and he could tell by the glint in your eyes that you honestly meant it.

“Don’t ever stop telling me.” Harry made you promise by linking his pinky finger with yours and then you both kissing each others pink fingers.

“Well, then don’t ever stop loving me.” You counter offered and Harry was quick to kiss your pinky finger all over for that promise.

“Impossible. Absolutely impossible.”

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wonik1ss · 20 days

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౨ৎ Stay Until 2 ? — kim minji

001. age changer + written | masterlist

taglist : @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @jjkills @kimakento @fluffyji @somedaydream @emphobics @zey1ltn @lovepjohootoa @takpayahtahu @nwjsenthusiast @baewonlove @aeriniee @mygfiswonyoung @heekkicr @jinsoulinator @addorations @ssoursss @klvarchives @yerimbrit @gayforalll @haerinsloverr @slowlydifferentbluebird @yawnzlvr @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @kimakento @deersteel @hannibangggg @popasi @rianosis @jkwsel @eternalgayshits @dearyujimin

you took a deep breath before you turned on your stream. after a few minutes the comments started to roll in and your giggled did too. minju being one of them made your smile burn brighter.

“hay bun buns ! today we are going to be doing something a little different.. one of you will get to play fortnite with me..”. as you sighed your rolled your eyes at the comments.

@juju.beat — LET ME JOIN AND WHOP YOUR ASS !

@fan2821 — YAHH

@fan3826 — I miss haerin :(

“your so funny minju !”. you rolled your eyes as you looked to see minju donated 0.33 cents.

@juju.beat — suck it ;D <3

you made a heart to the camera then flipped it off, and more and more comments came.

“if you want to join me just check my newest tweet and put down your Fortnite user and discord so we can chat why’ll we play !”. after posting the tweet for a few minutes you just talked to your fan. while a couple miles away sixteen year old hyein was ecstatic to join her favorite youtuber. hurriedly hyein responded the the tweet her favorite bts playlist playing in the background.

then after a few minutes of geeking out hyein stationed herself at her computer loading Fortnite and discord in her pink pajama’s.

“hyein-ah get to sleep now !”

“yes mom !”. hyein ran to turn of her lights and after a few minutes turned on her leds. meanwhile you finally stopped drowning on about your new cat. opening up twitter for your stream your scrolled and waited a few minutes.

“and…. hye_iup on Fortnite and discord won ! pls accept my friend requests and we will finally start some gameplay !”. hyein eyes half opened jumped. did you actaully say her name?

just to be sure hyein checked and you were requesting to follower her. after some breathing exercises hyein accepted voice and joined your discord call.

“hi.. how are you?”

“42”. you paused. surely your hearing things..

“ok.. do you want to just jump-“

“ofcourse can’t wait to beat you this will be soooo easy”. you sat stunned for a minute before your competitiveness kicked in.

“I’ve been practicing !”. hyein pretend to yawn.

“we’re you practicing that one time haerin snipped you on her first game..”. your chat erupted and your jaw dropped.

“stop trash talking me and join the game!”. hyein giggled and then game began. a few fans snuck there way into your game and tried to help you. mean while hyein was dancing with a chicken.

“you have been quiet for a while.. um..”

“hyein ! and I’m dancing with a chicken ! remind me of my own..”. it took you a second to digest everything the girl had said.

“I’m grinding my ass off and you’re dancing withs chicken?”. for the discord called you heard two shots.

“she pulled a gun on me.. how disrespectful ! chicky would never do that to me..”

“your chickens named.. chicky..”

“Im.. se-twenty I’m not that creative sorry !”. after a few more minutes your both got into a flow. hyein would be doing some thing weird like dancing with the whole avatar crew.

“kinda wish kora was here though-“. you hummed and then heard two guns go off.

“she killed everyone”. you burst out laughing while hyein held a funeral for the gang.

or even meet you face to face but not know because you changed your skin.

“ugh.. idk why people choose bright skins there just asking to be killed..”. hyein went off for a good ten minutes before someone donated to you telling her that was you and she burst out laughing. two hours in hyein was complaining about her work when the game started to come to an end.

“like why did this old as teacher yell at me for not knowing geometry ! like- girl I learned that two years ago calm down”

“so your 17..?”

“totally”. as soon as that word left hyein’s mouth her character evaporated into thin air.

“WHAT THE- omg what !”. you giggled as Hyein went off.

“unfair !”. you could here her pout through the screen so you tried to brighten her mood.

“hay is it ok if I get your number so we can play more..? everyone seems to love your yelling..!”. hyein scoffed, but you were right. you usually had 50-200k people watching but you broke your highest record and had 3million people watching.

“uh— sure give me a sec..”. as you tapped your fingers on your desk hyein ran to her phone on her bed. after texting her bestfriend wonhak thirty times with no response she sighed and went back to her chair.

hyein was a troubled teen. with mostly b’s and some c’s and a f in phys ed. so when she asked for a phone for her sixteenth birthday she got a fat no. but you were y/n y/l/n ! so when hyein got back on the call she gave the only number she knew.

“sorry but I have school tomorrow bye ! can’t wait to beat you later !”. you giggled as after hyein left you ended your stream too. but as hyein brushed her teeth and finally went to sleep at twelve you texted ‘her’ at 12:15. the thing was the only number hyein knew that wasn’t a parents or cousins was minji her favorite cousins bestfriend.

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop idol x reader #kpop imagines #kpopidol #kpop gg #kpop smau #kpop girls #reader x idol #reader insert

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joelswritingmistress · 4 months

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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 31

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Dr. Miller sat behind me with his arms wrapped around me in the outdoor tub. Watching the snow fall around us was surreal.

“Is it possible that I like this place even more than the castle?” I asked aloud, sinking an inch deeper into the water to cover the tops of my shoulders. I smiled to myself when his lips touched my neck.

“I think I do, too.” Dr. Miller walked his fingers down my stomach and it made me giggle. “When did you know?” He asked.

“When did I know?”

“That you, uh..”

“When did I fall in love with you?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Dr. Miller nibbled gently on my earlobe now.

“Mmm..” I closed my eyes. “I think I fell in love with you a little bit each day.” My hand linked with his across my midsection. “Until it built up to what I'm feeling now.”

“What are you feeling now?” He asked quietly against my ear.

“Like I never want to be away from you.” I pulled his hand up out of the water and kissed the back of his knuckles. “Like I could do this forever.”

“I could, too.” Dr. Miller continued to kiss along my neck and his arms tightened around me. “You make me a better man.”

“How does something like this happen?” I wondered the thought aloud. “I've dated around and tried to find what we have. No one else ever came close.”

“I guess these things just happen.”

I turned around to face him. “I want you every second of every day.”

“I know the feeling.”

I kissed him, finding a spot on either side of where he sat for my knees. The sudden cold against my back from emerging a few inches out of the water sent a chill up my spine. It didn't phase me.

Dr. Miller’s arms hugged around my upper body as his tongue fought for dominance over mine. Being up in the woods on the lake truly felt like some personal utopia.

We kissed. Our bodies merged. We held one another. Neither one of us held back.

Inside, after being exposed to such extreme hots and colds in the outdoors, we snuggled naked together beneath the fluffy down comforter in the bed in the loft.

I didn't know if I was warm or cold or somewhere in between. But my body felt perfectly relaxed and content in Dr. Miller’s embrace.

Long after he fell asleep I laid there awake. The moonlight cast a glow outside and I could see the snow still falling gently upon the outside world out the window.

This is even better than the castle.

I glanced over at Dr. Miller beside me. He was curled on his side, facing me snoring away. It made me huff a single, quiet laugh to myself. It made me feel like he was just as content as I was.

For whatever reason, at the late hour, I thought of the name Lou Brackett. The man who had left Dr. Miller the house and all his money.

Do I have to teach you everything? Tori had jokingly said to me at lunch when she Googled Lake Kora.

I decided to take her lead and reached for my phone on the nightstand. I punched in the four digit passcode and then clicked on the explorer icon. My thumbs typed away and searched specifically, Louis Brackett New York State.

Like any search, a collection of links popped in the form of a neat, little list in Google. Pictures of four or five different people showed up on the top and I decided I would just click on the first link - which offered every single person by that name from here to Florida.

Louis Brackett, age 52. Current city: Tampa, Florida

Louis Bracket, age 22. Current city: Raleigh, North Carolina.

The list went on, and so I went back and added the word obituary to it. I clicked the first link this time and began reading about the man. It matched up to the timeline Dr. Miller had said to me. He was in his late twenties or early thirties, which would have put Lou Brackett’s death anywhere between ten and fifteen years ago. The Lou Brackett I had found died thirteen years prior and was seventy-eight years old. The cause? Cancer. Surviving family members - zero. There was mention of the tragic death of his granddaughter, Linda Brackett.

I went back again, searching the two names together. I almost lost my breath when I read the headline of the first news story.

Grandfather Confesses to the Murder of Ace Deerfield on Death Bed.

I clicked on the link and my eyes traveled below to the contents of the main article:

Louis Brackett watched Ace Deerfield walk out of court as a free man. He had been on trial for brutally murdering Brackett’s 17 year old granddaughter, Linda Brackett. As the tragic result of a mistrial, Deerfield avoided a life sentence and served only six months in a county prison.

“He winked at me,” Brackett claimed with tears in his eyes. “That bastard winked at me because he knows what he did. There was evidence of it. He was caught doing it and because of a technicality, he gets to walk.”

The details of the case are too gruesome to detail, however there were various images of Deerfield smiling and smirking throughout the notorious trial. He was also thought to have been linked to another unsolved murder; however no charges have ever been filed.

As most of you know, Ace Deerfield was murdered fourteen months after he walked out of prison. It remained unsolved - until now.

Brackett, who also lost his wife to cancer six months ago, laid in his hospital bed with tubes up his nose attached to an oxygen tank and meekly asked hospital staff to phone the local police. They obliged, and when officers arrived on scene, the grieving grandfather confessed to the murder of Deerfield.

“He knew details that only the person who murdered Ace Deerfield would know,” Officer Bryan O’Connor explained. “We aren’t offering any more details, as the case is still unfolding.”

Less than two hours later, Louis Brackett passed away from his illness. He was never formally charged with the death of Ace Deerfield.

Wow. That wasn’t what I expected when I searched up Lou Brackett. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. The skeletons in the metaphorical closets seemed like they were never ending. I turned to look at Dr. Miller. None of this had to do with him specifically, but the story was so wild I knew he had to have some insight to it.

Stop blaming him. I knew it would be unfair to bring it up now. If he was close to Lou Brackett, which apparently he was, it would be cold to bring up something so morbid and sad. The poor, terminally ill man turned to murder to avenge his granddaughter’s death because justice hadn’t been served. Her killer walked free.

Poor Dr. Miller has been surrounded by tragedy.

I placed my phone back down on the nightstand and pulled the covers up past my shoulders. I ran a hand through Dr. Miller’s hair and kissed his forehead. In his sleep it made him stir and turn without waking up so his back was to me. I cuddled myself around him, wrapping my arm around his midsection and kissing the back of his shoulder.

“I love you,” I whispered to him, despite him still being asleep. As much as he took care of me, I wanted to take care of him. He needed it - I could tell. Despite the money, the confidence, the lavish house, the charisma and the ear-to-ear grin, there was a lot of hurt; a lot of pain. I wanted to be the one to dull that pain. The future could certainly be sunnier than the darkness of the past.

I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against his bare back, holding him tight. Nothing was going to take this man away from me. He deserved a happy next chapter to his life. I was honored that I was chosen to be the one to give that to him.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @smolbeanzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

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todomitoukei · 16 days

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I went through the old chapters where Dabi and Ujiko are included to take a deeper look at the relationship between these two.

Did you translate the conversations between the two of them into chapters 221 and 222?

I find the way Ujiko speaks to Dabi in the English translation strange. I'm curious if that's really how he expressed himself in Japanese. If I remember correctly, it seems to me that you translated a line of Ujiko's related to Dabi and it sounded less strange than in the English version. That one with "Dabi, you've got sharp eyes!" or smth like this

Hi there!

I only translated that specific line way back when Ujiko and AFO being involved in Touya's backstory was just a theory (long time ago).

I also did a translation of chapter 350, where Ujiko tells us that part of Touya's backstory, which also features a short conversation between the two.

Going back to chapter 221 and 222, here's a breakdown of the parts before the "good eye", starting with this part in chapter 221 (the first two speech bubbles can be found in the other post I linked above)

「そうじゃ違うんじゃこの子らは中位下位とは違うじゃよ～

最上位（ハイエンド）じゃよ

より「マスターピース」に近付いたスーパー脳無じゃ！

凄いじゃろうこれまでとは違うんじゃよ！！！」

「そう ; sou 」 = so 「じゃ ; ja 」 = to be 「違う ; chigau 」 = different 「んじゃ ; nja 」 = explanatory particle 「この ; kono 」 = this 「子ら ; kora 」 = children 「は ; wa 」 = topic particle 「中位下位 ; chuuikai 」 = middle class, lower class 「とは ; to wa 」 = quotation particle 「違う ; chigau 」 = different 「じゃ ; ja 」 = to be 「よ ; yo 」 = emphasis particle 「最上位 (ハイエンド) ; haiendo 」 = High End (the kanji mean the most upper class) 「じゃ ; ja 」 = to be 「よ ; yo 」 = emphasis particle 「より ; yori 」 = than 「マスターピース ; masutaapiisu 」 = master piece 「に ; ni 」 = directional particle 「近付いた ; chikazuita 」 = approached 「スーパー脳無 ; suupaa noumu 」 = super nomu 「じゃ ; ja 」 = to be 「凄い ; sugoi 」 = amazing 「じゃろう ; jarou 」 = right 「これまで ; kore made 」 = until this 「とは ; to wa 」 = quotation particle 「違う ; chigau 」 = different 「んじゃ ; nja 」 = explanatory particle 「よ ; yo 」 = emphasis particle

＝"That's right, they're different. These kids are different from the middle and lower class ones~ It's a High End (top tier). It's a Super Nomu, close to a masterpiece! Amazing, right? It's different from anything up until now!!!"

You best believe he chose the word masterpiece to piss off Touya here on purpose. Unfortunately, and maybe on purpose, we never get shown Touya's facial reaction to that, and he most likely played it cool on the outside, while on the inside wanting to set the whole place on fire.

The next little bit of dialogue between the two occurs in chapter 222:

「ならば荼毘にはハイエンドのテストに協力してほしいのう！！

趣味が！！審美眼がとても合う！！接しやすい！！」

「ならば ; naraba 」 = in case; as for 「荼毘 ; dabi 」 = Dabi 「には ; ni wa 」 = directional particle 「ハイエンド ; haiendo 」 = High Ends 「の ; no 」 = possession particle 「テスト ; tesuto 」 = test 「に ; ni 」 = directional particle 「協力 ; kyouryoku 」 = cooperation 「してほしい ; shitehoshii 」 = want you to do 「のう ; nou 」 = explanatory particle (adds emphasis) 「趣味 ; shumi 」 = preference; liking; taste 「が ; ga 」 subject particle 「審美眼 ; shinbigan 」 = aesthetic sense; sense of beauty 「が ; ga 」 subject particle 「とても ; totemo 」 = very 「合う ; au 」 = to fit/match 「接しやすい ; sesshiyasui 」 = easy to deal with/attend to

= "As for Dabi, I want you to test out the High End for me!! (Good) taste!! Your aesthetic sense matches a lot!! It will be easy for you to deal with it!!"

Obviously, in retrospect, knowing that Ujiko would have turned Touya into a nomu too, the "matching aesthetic sense" line feels even more rude now.

And finally Touya's response:

「話聞いてンのか」

「話 ; hanashi 」 = story 聞いてン ; kiiten 」 = to listen 「のか ; noka 」 = question particle

= "Are you listen to my story?"

The 'story' being him just a second prior to this having said he will go off on his own since he is in the middle of recruiting someone (don't do it!).

#dabi #translation #222 #221 #bnha #mine #ask #lov

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backgroundagent3 · 18 days

Note

for the character ask, daisy johnson!

Thank you so much for the ask! 💜 I love any excuse to talk about Daisy Johnson.

First impression: I'm trying to squeeze my brain here, but all I remember was trying not to like her at first because I knew se was a double agent for the Rising Tide. It goes without saying I failed miserably about three episodes in.

Impression now: She is my favourite character of all time.

Favorite moment: I really can't choose, but one that comes to mind was the final fight of season 5. I think it's a very underrated fight scene, because it's the end of the world, her dad is dying, she has been recently betrayed and tortured by her friend, and she still goes into battle BY HERSELF against Talbot, and if that wasn't bad enough, when she's about to die a horrible death she realises that the only way she can save the world is if she takes the serum and basically condemns the person she loves most to his death. It's so heartbreaking and poetic, but very cool to watch, and I just love so much it, idk.

Idea for a story: This is angsty but I would love to read something where the events of 5.14 are properly dealt with. May watches the security cameras and goes ballistic on Fitz, and Daisy gets time to grieve and heal. They get Coulson back and he's horrified, and Jemma is so conflicted but she's there for her best friend.

Unpopular opinion: Since apparently I can't stop thinking about season 5, here's some more. I think she actually did a good job of leading the team in season 5b. Especially if you consider that she's been recently tortured, her family doesn't seem to care, she has no experience, and hasn't gotten a good nights sleep in about 5 years. She might be tough, but hello? IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?? You have to be at least a little bossy if you wanna make it through that. Also if you're gonna be a baby and call her a hard ass maybe you should have thought twice before joining SHIELD.

Favorite relationship: If it's romantic, then Sousa. I love them so so much, they're literally perfect and despite my obvious outrage at season 5, I will forever love the AoS writers for somehow pulling that off. As for platonic relationships, I'd say May. She's the perfect mother figure for her, and I love the parallels between them. I think Daisy has the best relationships in general, but this one is my favourite. Honourable mentions go to Coulson for being the most unhinged dad ever, and to Jemma for being the sweetest friend in the earlier seasons.

Favorite headcanon: before she goes off to space at the end of season 7, she rebuilds Afterlife with the help of Sousa and Kora. I've said this before, but I think they are actually the perfect team to do this. Kora has lived in Afterlife her whole life, she's seen Jiaying help people go through Terrigenesis, and she's been though it herself in a much healthier and safer environment than Daisy. Sousa is reasonable and calm, which are good qualities to have when you're helping someone who's terrified and potentially dangerous. He has experience leading people, which I think would make him a good mentor for the Inhumans. So Kora has the experience, Sousa has the qualities, and in my opinion, Daisy has a nice combination of the two. She has a different and much more horrifying experience of Terrigenesis that people who accidentally go though it can relate to, and she has spent years exploring and controlling her powers, so she knows what the deal is. And she's also a good leader, so where Sousa can help the Inhumans pre-Terrigenesis, she can train them after if that's what they want. Because that's another thing, SHIELD may be funding Afterlife, but they've learnt their lesson and they're not sticking their noses where they shouldn't. They accept new recruits and help train them, but if that's not what the Inhumans want, then SHIELD helps them get settled back into their normal lives. Anyways this got long but it's one of my favourite headcanons, so there you go.

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry for rambling, but I have a lot to say about Daisy. 🌼💛

Character Asks.

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banabotch · 26 days

Text

Chemistry

Description: Some things are given the perfect name. Natasha finds beauty in that. Some things are and sound as they appear, nothing deeper hidden underneath. Just a word and an obvious definition. That’s why she’s a fan of one-night stands. It’s not deep. It’s one night. Then, it’s over. So, you can imagine she’d get upset when one moves in.

Warnings: (Nat x OC! Series) smut, cringe-worthy awkwardness, angst, fluff, death, war, typical MCU stuff, trauma

(Prologue)

Kora considers herself lucky. The bar isn’t-by any means-packed. In fact, there were only a few people occupying the space. It eases her mind, being less overwhelming than a nightclub. She doesn’t want random people grinding up on her or slipping something in her drink. She wants a good fuck, and that means being pickier. Unfortunately, her luck didn’t supply her confidence. That’s a job for liquor.

She makes her order: a screwdriver, double. Kora always found that alcohol provided her with lust. She found it particularly hard to see more than aesthetics without substances. Even with them, she preferred to close her eyes, preferred the absence of them, of who was fucking her. It often made her feel weird; different; outcasted. For a girl already so set apart from her age group, from society even, it only added fuel to the fire. So, she drank.

“Another?” The bartender asks, a thin line of sweat on his brow, rag thrown over shoulder, looking down at her. One could say the man was gorgeous, and Kora noticed. She looked at him a moment, considering his words, feeling the beat of the music thump around her and the heat of her drink swishing down her chest towards her liver. She could use another.

“Yes.” She doesn’t have to ponder on it for long. She’d been there 2 hours now, drinking and drinking, starting to worry that maybe she isn’t as pretty as she thought. She had a few guys come up to her, but none were attractive.

Come to think of it, she doesn’t think anyone hot ever had come up to her before. If it did happen, her guess is their mouth made them ugly. She wonders if she would mind taking the bartender home.

She supposes that she would, if the opportunity arose. There’s something about men she can’t have that turns her on. It’s exciting, being desired so badly that a man would risk his job to be with her.

“Penny for your thoughts? A drink?” A woman speaks beside her, drawing her out of her head and back into the dark room. She swirls the last of her drink in the bottom of her glass, hesitating. Something inside her is bubbling. She figures she’s excited to make a new friend.

“It’s not much of a party in here, is it?” Kora smiles, gesturing to the quiet atmosphere. The woman is pretty, that’s for sure. She doesn’t look like she belongs in a place like this. It’s so run down, gloomy, and cheap. It’s not the setting Kora would imagine to meet someone that looked like her.

“That’s why I like it.” She smiles back, ordering that drink with an air of comfort. Kora assumes she’s a frequent flier, maybe even friends with the bartender, a man she thanks by the name of Kevin. She calls him Kev, flashes a smirk, and returns her attention to her drink.

“You don’t like parties?” Kora can’t stop herself from asking, the question leaving her lips before she can so much as think about it. Something about the woman is captivating and Kora can’t look away.

“Most nights, I don’t. You’re looking for one?” Her eyebrow raises, drawing attention to the woman’s eyes. They aren’t brown, but they seem dark from where she sits. Kora finds herself leaning forward, trying for a better look. She blushes at the realization of her actions, leaning back in her seat awkwardly as she runs a hand through her hair, similarly raking through her mind for an appropriate response.

“No. No, I was just thinking that it’s surprising a bar this close to the university isn’t packed.” Kora’s blush deepens at the look she receives from the other woman. She can’t decipher what it means, but it’s gone soon enough.

“Are you disappointed?” She questions, finishing her drink and waving for another.

“No. I was relieved, actually.” Kora smiles, looking away from the woman’s cherry red lips and the way they press firmly against her glass.

“Oh?” She smirks, raising her brow, yet again. This time, Kora only glances at her for a second, looking at her own drink, and taking a sip before responding.

“My friend wanted me to get laid. Although, most the guys in here are old, so I think I’m off the hook.” Kora laughs, glancing back at the woman. She doesn’t know why she’s talking so much, rambling on to someone she only just met.

“You don’t want a good fuck?” She asks, her bluntness throwing the girl off-guard. Kora’s surprised she didn’t blush, or choke on her drink. The woman asked the words casually, gluing her eyes to Kora’s as if she hadn’t been the one speaking, as if she had only been listening; observing.

“Not from an old man.” She laughs, looking around the room again, as if to solidify there was nobody to catch her eye.

“Their loss.” Her voice is low, and Kora feels her heart speed up. The woman looks so casual and confident that Kora is desperate to appear a similar level of carefree.

“They’re too fragile, I think.” Kora doesn’t know how she meant for it to come off. She’d never have this conversation sober. Maybe that’s why she got drunk.

“So you like it rough then?” She smirks, watching an embarrassed blush color the girl’s cheeks.

“I don’t know. I definitely don’t like it weak.” She smiles, taking another sip of her drink. There’s nearly an air of awkwardness, one Kora knows is her making, but the other woman paints over it quickly.

“Has no younger man tried to pick you up?” She gestures to the rest of the bar, which has increased in size since Kora first arrived. Kora notices, as the woman moves, that the light bounces off her hair, making it shine in an almost red hue. It makes her wonder what color it really is, if it feels as soft as it appears.

“They have.” Kora avoids the woman’s intrigued gaze. She feels embarrassed, as if she’s been caught acting a way she’s not supposed to.

“I don’t doubt it.” She sounds so sure, so much so that Kora can’t help but glance up, almost as if to see if her face told another story.

“You asked?” Kora is not easily distracted by flattery, even when drunk. She’s suspicious now, her own eyebrow raising with a scrunch.

“That, I did…I wanted to ask why you haven’t gone with them, but that seemed too crass.” Her voice sounds slightly unsure to Kora. She appears utterly at ease, as if she’d just spoke about the weather. It confuses Kora slightly, who feels a strange sense of far-off excitement at what it could mean.

“Oh.” Kora doesn’t know what to say. However, she is desperate to keep the pretty woman talking. “I guess they just weren’t good enough.” Kora mentally curses herself at the arrogance, but the woman is only amused.

“So you play hard to get?” She smirks at this, takes a drink, and Kora looks away.

“Not usually.” She blushes, embarrassed by how easy she must sound. A woman as pretty as the one before her has likely had many men kneeling at her feet. Kora sees no possibility of this girl going home with just anyone.

“What changed?” The woman speaks again, turning her body slightly, as if to make the other girl more comfortable or open.

“I haven’t been satisfied.” Kora almost slaps a hand over her mouth. Her words came out sultry, sexy, and with a sense of challenge. The alcohol must’ve gave her more than confidence.

“Yeah? That’s a shame.” Her voice is raspy, and her pointer finger runs the rim of her glass. Kora feels her eyes burn with gloss, as if watching that act had burned a hole, all the way down to the apex of her thighs.

“It is?” Kora feels her eyes snap to the other woman’s, desperately trying to read the words. They could mean anything, if she really thought about it.

“If I had a pretty girl like you, well…” The woman smirks, taking a swig of her drink, and emptying the glass. Kora notices herself watching as the alcohol is pushed down the woman’s throat. She notices the eyes smugly looking over at her, waiting for the moment Kora realizes that she’d been caught. Kora catches her eyes, but surprises the woman.

“Well?” Kora pokes, trying her best to appear the way the woman was. She keeps eye contact, straightens out her posture, and tries her best to look neutral. She can’t find it in herself to not see how this goes, but she doesn’t want to look desperate.

“Well…” A devious and arrogant glint passes over her eyes, “I’d fuck you just for saying that.” The words sucked air from Kora’s lungs and lit a fire below her stomach.

“Too bad nobody has me.” She shrugs, a playful glint in her eye as she mixes her drink slowly with the umbrella straw.

“Oh, no. That’s no bad thing, sweetheart.” She purrs, causing Kora to look up in confusion.

“Why’s that?” The other woman is confusing Kora in many ways, but at this, she’s starting to think it’s just a game. It’s fun, but not quite what she’s looking for.

“If nobody has you, that means I get to fuck you and not feel bad about it.” She states, finishing her drink without even the slightest reaction.

“You think you’re gonna fuck me?” Kora may be affected by the woman’s words, but something inside her wants to play with the other woman too, payback almost. She was on the edge of disappointed, about to jump off and kill the question of her desire. The woman had put her there and pulled her back just as carelessly.

“You don’t want me to?” Her eyebrow raises, an amused expression raising her face. Kora hates how the woman can keep her cards drawn in close, how she remains so constantly cool and sexy.

“I-What if I didn’t?” She poses the question with procrastination, part of her scared of her own answer, of her own desire.

“I’d call you a liar.” She states, drawing over the bartender to close her tab. Kora can’t find a response, blown away at the knowing arrogance of the woman before her. “Look, I’m heading out. You can come with me, or you can stay here. I don’t care.” Kora watches as the woman stands, pulling out a wad of cash to count, before leaving a generous tip. Kora notices even her actions are careless, as if she had no concern over getting mugged. It turns her on, makes her feel strangely safe. No woman is stupid enough to be careless in New York City.

This woman? She lacks fear, which Kora finds enthralling. As the woman turns to leave, she finishes her drink and runs after her, gripping a surprisingly muscular arm to steady herself. For the first time in years, Kora is excited.

—-

A sound akin to a squeak slipped from Kora’s mouth when their lips smashed together. It felt tingly. It made her tingly. The woman’s mouth was warm, really warm. It made the cool air of the hotel room seem a little more cold, or maybe that was the fan. She couldn’t think about it. When hands cupped her jaw, Kora found herself leaning into it, enjoying it. She got lost in it.

She whimpers when she’s slammed against the wall. The woman pushes closer to her at the sound. She’s getting more confident, more aroused. Kora never thought a kiss could feel so good. She wondered how the rest of the night would go when she already felt like this. It made the Apex of her thighs feel warmer.

A hand drops to her neck, wrapping around the back, pulling her into the woman. Kora’s own hands set themselves on the woman’s hips, feeling her curves, sliding up her tank top to touch the soft skin of her waist.

The woman groans at this, pulling back to leave hot kisses down Kora’s jaw, heading to her neck, where her pulse thuds and her heavy breathing only gets heavier. A soft moan leaves her mouth when the redhead finds her sweet spot, pulling the skin tight and into her mouth, caressing the sting of her teeth with a wet tongue.

Kora raises a hand to the red hair in her line of sight. She sighs at how soft it is. It feels better than she had imagined. She runs her fingers through it, and she can’t help herself. She tugs. A grunt falls from the woman’s lips, who was working on slipping the dress past Kora’s shoulders. The woman allows herself to be tugged up, back into a hot and heavy kiss.

A firm grip lands on Kora’s hips. They’re pulled up and into the other woman, who grinds back, and Kora moans. The hands slide down, feeling for the bottom of her dress, sliding up her thighs, revealing her lacy panties. A strong thigh slips in between her own and she can’t hold herself back. She grinds down, feeling her throbbing get better.

She lets herself fall into it, back and forth, back and forth. When she fails to kiss back, lips leave hers and drop to her neck again, sucking harsher. The hands on her hips guide her, moving her again and again against the rough fabric of the woman’s jeans. Even as she shudders, as one hand finds the woman’s hair, and the other slips under her black leather jacket, feeling the tight muscles of her back shifting with movement, the repetition stays the same. Even as she moans, as she clutches the woman tighter to her, breast to breast, and face falling into the crook of the neck before her, the woman keeps moving her.

Forward, now back, forward, now back. Forward and her stomach is clenching, growing more uncomfortable by the second. Slightly faster and she can only focus on the coil in her belly. It’s getting hotter, twisting harder, and she knows she’s close to getting what she so badly wants.

“You’re moaning so pretty for me, sweetheart.” That’s all it takes. Just 7 words wrapped in the sweet sound of her voice, dripping with sex. Kora’s thighs clench around the woman’s. She gasps against her neck, letting herself come undone, arching back into the wall behind her, feeling the familiar warmth of lips returning to her neck.

The woman stretches her high, continuing the grind against her thigh, feeling the warm wet path of juices on her leg. She sighs at the feeling, at the woman grasping onto her, at the sweet taste of sweat on her neck, and the soft skin under her dress. She can feel the girl shift, the overstimulation likely growing uncomfortable. The woman loves it. She wants more.

“Please.” Kora pants, the sound coming out at the level of a whisper, with the tone of a whimper. She doesn’t know why she’s begging, or how to ask for what she wants, but the woman appreciates it nonetheless. She can tell by a groan at the words.

She’s pushing them backwards, further into the room. Kora’s knees hit the mattress, and she climbs back shakily, situating herself comfortably in the center, the woman staring her down, taking in every inch of Kora.

It almost leaves her uneasy: the hungry look on her face. If she wasn’t feeling the same way, she’d close her eyes. But she keeps them open, locking them with the woman, seeing what she missed in the bar. They’re green. They’re sharp and careful and calculating. They’re bold and make her want to look away, to cower. She blushes instead.

Those eyes gloss just a tad more, getting closer and closer, until they drop to the dress, to her hips. She climbs up, on all fours, hovering over Kora, looking down at her with pure lust. She takes in the sight. The straps to her dress are still pulled over her shoulders, down her arms. Her collarbone is exposed, and the woman runs her eyes over it, jogging down to her cleavage and walking lower to the curves accentuated by her dress. She smirks at her thoughts; reveling at the body below her; ready for some real fun.

Slender hands slide down under Kora and pull her up. One hand holds her like this, steady in the air. Kora nearly moans at the display of strength. Her hand falls to the woman’s arm, feeling her up, all the way to her shoulders. The woman unzips Kora’s dress, a slight blush rising up her neck while she’s being felt.

Suddenly, Kora drops. A gasp leaves her lips, blush darkening. The woman smirks again, watching her body react to the fall. Her breasts bounce, her arms brace, pushing her chest up, and the dress slides further up her thighs as her leg comes up to steady herself. The woman smiles, but it’s not sweet or comforting. It’s dangerous.

Her dress is removed delicately but quickly, slipping down her waist without the slightest scratch. She’s surprised by this. Although, that emotion could be the product of the woman’s warm body slipping between her legs, pushing her deeper into the bed.

It all feels so good. The weight, the way hands gripped her hips, felt her stomach, her breasts pressed against the other woman’s. She’s never been with a girl before, and Kora finds herself slightly anxious. She doesn’t know how to make the other woman feel good too.

Her own hands fall back into the red hair. She loves the silky texture, and even more so enjoys the feeling of soft lips on hers. She decides to take more control, sliding her mouth across the woman’s jaw, feeling her clench, dragging her fingertips over the tight muscle. She places a kiss there, and continues down. The girl’s neck is nearly burning, but it feels nice. It’s like hot tea on a night without sleep, warming her insides, tasting so sweet, and filling her head with a fluffy swirl of daze.

The woman smells like sweat and honey. Kora finds herself breathing it in, almost as if to save it for memory as she licks a stripe up her neck, stopping occasionally to suck and wrap a leg around the woman, pulling her further into Kora. The woman breathes heavier, but doesn’t allow this for long.

“Tsk, I’m not the one getting fucked tonight, am I?” Her voice is raspy, dark, and oh so pleasant to hear. The words turn Kora on even more than she’d like to admit, more than she understood to be possible. That, accompanied by the woman gripping her jaw, forcing her face closer. Their breaths mingle, Kora’s lips tickle with the air, her nose picking up the sweet scent of whiskey.

“No.” Kora breathes, letting the woman pull back.

“That’s right. So be a good girl and keep these hands to yourself.” Kora watches the woman grab her wrists, pulling them up above her head. Her hips raise, gliding along the woman’s toned torso. The pleasure only lasts a second, a hand firmly holding her hips down into the mattress. A pout finds her lips and the woman smirks.

Kora’s hands are left lying there, her hips devoid of relief, and the woman sinks lower. Their eyes are linked, a never ending staring contest taking place. Kora is curious. She doesn’t know what’s going to come next. The woman is craving a reaction.

A manicured hand runs up Kora’s chest, snapping the strap of her bra against her skin. Kora gasps, the slight sting matching the fire in the woman’s eyes, the contact making her all the more wet.

Her other hand starts at Kora’s calf, running up lightly, reaching her knee, her lower thigh, and just slightly higher. She’s right below where she’s needed, just watching, running her thumb back and forth in a featherlight manner. She watches Kora’s chest rise and fall with heavy pants, the glazed look in her eyes, the twitch of her hips, the tight hold on the sheets above her head. The woman doesn’t linger here long and for that, Kora is glad.

The hand on her thigh stops moving. She leans back on her legs, her hands pulled to her own thighs. She looks contemplative; excited but undecided. Then, she climbs up. She straddles a leg, pushes her knee up into Kora’s sex, and drops her torso over the other girl. Kora moans, grinding down on her again. With hands holding her up on either side of Kora’s head, the woman smirks.

“Arch for me.” Kora is taken aback, but does as she’s told. Her breasts touch the woman’s above her, with only the fabric of her bra keeping her from feeling more than a light skim over her nipples. Just then, the woman reaches under her, undoing the clasp on her bra as if having read her mind. She pulls it off gently, sucking in a breath at the sight. Kora blushes.

“So pretty.” She purrs, gliding a black fingernail over her collarbone, down, down, down, until it brushes against the soft skin of her nipple. Kora’s stomach flexes, her hands gripping the sheets tighter, anticipation filling her veins, raising goosebumps on her skin.

“Thank you.” She breathes, her cheeks burning hot at the look she receives. Kora feels desired and equally so, desire. The woman turned her head just slightly at the gratitude, confusion tugging at her brow only for a millisecond, before she relaxes and a smirk grows again. Something about Kora’s words seem to turn her on.

Kora gasps as a warm, wet mouth lowers on her lower breast, sucking slightly. Her other hand rises to give attention to the other. She sharply tugs at the nipple, surprising Kora, whose back arches slightly, a pretty noise escaping her mouth while her hand drops to the woman’s hair. She runs her fingers through it, holding the back of her head to ground herself. The woman groans against her, a ripple of vibration releasing a soft whine from Kora.

“Did the pretty girl forget?” Kora stills at the words. She hadn’t realized she’d gone against the rules. She rolls her eyes, annoyed.

“Must have.” She snarks.

“Your hands stay up here.” She practically growls, firmly holding her wrists above her head with a challenge. When Kora realizes she can’t pull away, her legs clench around the woman’s waist, and she sighs. She hadn’t expected the woman to be so strong.

Pressing her hand over Kora’s underwear and hearing a gasp, the woman smirks. “For someone so wet, you really should listen…Only good girls get to cum.” She whispers in the girls ear, shrugging as she moves her hand away from the soaked cloth and the hips so desperately searching the air for contact.

“Wait…please.” Kora begs, the ache between her legs beginning to pulse. She can’t remember ever being so worked up before. She also can’t remember sleeping with a woman.

“Only this once…because you asked so kindly.” She purrs, ripping the panties from her skin. Kora hears the fabric rip and a hand hushes her complaints, settling itself over her lips. Excitement flows through her veins and a finger slips through her folds. She gasps, lifting her hips into the feeling, satisfaction filling her breaths as her clit receives much missed attention.

As it starts slow, with soft circles around the bud, Kora begins to shift around, pushing into the hand that only pulls back to the same level of ghostly pressure. The feeling is good, but not enough. She can’t stand the lightness of the touch, the breeze of her fingers, instead of their full presence.

“I need more. Harder.” Kora begs, her words muffled by the hand covering her mouth. She locks eyes with the woman who had situated herself straddling a hip, one hand still hiding Kora’s lower face, the other below sight.

“Harder? What’s the magic word?” She husks, turning her hand to drag her fingers down Kora’s mouth, pulling her bottom lip out, feeling it shake with anticipation.

“Please.” She breathes, watching with hooded eyes as the woman takes her in completely, as if she had to consider Kora’s body, as if she wasn’t sure if she felt like giving in so easily, as if she longed to watch a struggle.

“Good girl.” She purrs, smirking as she soaks in the sound of the moan pulled from the girl beneath her. She’s enjoying this too. Kora can tell. She can feel the wetness on her hip, the wetness that’s discolored the jeans she still wears, making Kora frown. She wants to see skin too.

“Take off your clothes.” Kora pants, almost moving her hands to help. She caught herself before she could, her arms only slightly twitching with the thought. Either by this, or her words, the woman’s eyes light up. Kora feels uneasy by it, in an exciting way.

“And I thought you had manners.” She says raspily, pulling away from Kora’s body with a teasing frown. The girl stops herself from protesting the lack of contact, instead watching the woman unbuckle her jeans, pull the zipper down teasingly slow, and begin to wiggle out, looking up through her lashes as she makes eye contact, savoring the moment, the look on Kora’s face, the feeling of air brushing her damp skin.

She slides her jacket off her shoulders, folding it in half and tossing it onto a chair near their bed. Kora’s legs shift together, and the woman notices, but so does Kora. Kora notices the toned muscle and prominent veins on the woman’s arms, the skin of her lower belly, as that too becomes exposed, and the hunger she feels. She aches to reach up and run her hands over her stomach, to feel the ridges in her abs. She’d enjoy any contact at all.

“Better?” The woman asks, her eyebrow raising in question. Kora nods, having enjoyed watching every sliver of skin become exposed while the tanktop came off. She feels awe-struck, lying there, staring up at the women who’d yet to touch her again. “Use your words.” She orders, crossing her arms over her chest, covering the black design on her bra.

“Yes. Much better. Please fuck me.” She whines, begging, pleading with her. Kora’s sex feels uncomfortable. It’s pulsing, begging for contact, aching so badly to be filled. She’s desperate. The woman loves desperate.

Slowly, the woman sits how she had, sliding her hands over the girl’s stomach, using it to steady herself as she straddles Kora’s hip, sighing at the pleasure of it. She looks up, taking in Kora’s breasts, their perkiness, her neck, littered with a hickey or two, her mouth, open and panting, her arms pulled up over her head, and her hands that take hold of the comforter, yet again. She grins, watching the girl’s hooded eyes widen and her mouth part further with a hoarse moan as she slams her fingers into the girl’s pussy.

In: harsh and deep, out: pulling against her spongy walls, each thrust searching deliciously for that one special spot. Kora closes her eyes, her face scrunched in pleasure, her mouth hung open, silently moaning.

Gasp after gasp, and she feels herself getting closer and closer. Her stomach feels like it’s shriveling up, sucking for air, for release. Then, it stops. Nothing is inside her anymore. She feels her sex clenching around nothing, her eyes opening in confusion. The woman waiting for her, for those glossy eyes to open.

Just as Kora moves to speak, to question her, it starts again. It’s slower this time, it’s not enough. She feels herself clench again, sucking the woman’s hand further inside her. Suddenly, she gasps, stars lining her vision as if she had stood up too quickly. Her hips shoot up, making the woman slide down her thigh, a trail of wet heat following her. The woman moans, throatily, unexpectedly, and it’s a noise that has Kora’s thighs shaking, awaiting more pleasure.

“Keep your eyes open this time.” The woman almost looks annoyed at her, setting her hand on Kora’s lower stomach, pressing her weight into it as she pulls herself back to her prior position. Kora moans at the pressure of her hand, pleasantly surprised at the feeling.

Kora doesn’t have time to respond. The words are stolen from her tongue and her mind when two fingers enter her this time, gliding against that spot gracefully.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” She groans, skillfully fucking Kora whilst maneuvering up her body. Kora moans, her hooded eyes glossed over so much that she wonders if tears will fall. The slender fingers pump into her faster, and Kora feels it all. Every edge and side of them rolls smoothly against her walls. She feels almost perfectly full, another finger stretching her slightly.

“Oh my go-od.” Her whole body begins to shake, the sting of the stretch lighting the match in her belly, fireworks just seconds away from releasing from their container. Lips press softly against her neck, a vast difference from the hard thrusts of her hand and the rough grind of her wrist against Kora’s clit.

Kora heard the pops of the beautiful lights in the sky. She must have, because her ears are ringing and her vision is gone and all she feels is pleasure. She’s sure she’s moaning, she has to be. It feels so good. It lasts longer than expected, the woman stretching it out with lazier thrusts and gentle caresses on her breasts.

It’s then that Kora knows she’s screwed.

#avengers #natasha romanoff #marvel #natalia romanova #natalia romanoff #natasha x oc #fan fic #fanfic #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff smut #prologue #black widow #wlw tag #wlw love #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut

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abnerkrill · 4 months

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Nik! Did you watch Rebel Moon? How was it?

Yes hello this is my 4 star review of rebel moon on letterboxd.

But first: a professional, somewhat critical review of rebel moon that engages with the film well, especially regarding anti-colonial themes, and isn't just knee-jerk regurgitated Snyder haterism:

And now more of my thoughts: [edit: Oh No, He Went And Talked For 3 Hours About It, Thanks For Coming To My TedTalk:)

No one has a better knack at putting together a cast list SO ATTRACTIVE TO THE BISEXUALS. read it and weep, boys. (Jena Malone is there too but really just for 1 set piece)

...Jena Malone's one (1) scene set piece features her as an alien spider woman with legitimate grievances against the Empire who now wants to kill kids because all her kids were killed. Like, so valid, girl. Also, did I say Jena Malone as an alien spider-woman? And this is just one scene.

Look, if that pitch doesn't hook you, this film may not be for you, and that's okay, but by GOD my people are the people who hear "Jena Malone alien spider woman" and perk up. I love you, freaks.

The cinematography is ace and always will be under Snyder's direction. music by Tom Holkenborg SLAPS. Costuming and design overall is super super strong. (People on this hellsite are always complaining about inadequate, boring as hell sci-fi design and you get RM and you don't appreciate it for what it is. WAKE UP.)

Costume showcase! Second from the right in this photo showing off those sweet sweet sci-fi costume designs is my beloved non-binary they/them revolutionary Milius. CANONICALLY non-binary, let me add. Imagine SW doing that lmaoooooooooooo D*ve Filoni would fuckin keel over and die

Kora! Our tragic female protagonist of color who's over 40, with a dark edgy sexy background. [KIDNAPPED AS A CHILD!! DEAD FAMILY!!! DEAD LOVER!!!!!!! SHE FAILED TO PROTECT HER WARD FROM ASSASSINATION!!!!! SHE IS THE MOST WANTED WOMAN IN THE UNIVERSE!!]

Bitches on tumblr LOVE taking failmen with sad backstories from media and blorbifying them, but the second it's a woman? please. If this was a man people would be writing the filthiest x reader smut you've seen since Mandalorian S1 came out. If this was a man you'd already have seen 20,000 fan drawings of her with her muscles and tits OUT. God where's my Kora fanart.

I personally have no problems with the plot of this movie (part 1 of 2) being "we must collect warriors to fight the evil empire." That's kinda fantasy story 101 and I still love new, varied interpretations of that plot.

If there's not much interconnecting plot because Kora's just gathering fighters, it's kinda like... that's the point, babes, they'll actually get to it in part 2. We're just at the "forming the team" stage. I revel in that part of a fantasy film and I always want it to be longer, so this film is like catnip to me.

Uh, yeah, this is getting long. More under the cut.

Entertainment professional nitpick time! I've seen someone say RM would be better as a TV show to introduce a new character each episode. And I truly don't think that fixes any of the problems this person has with the film, while introducing way more problems. (Who the fuck would go in on an original concept TV show where each episode introduces a new hero. You could not sell that pitch to a studio, ever, and viewers would instantly check out if they didn't like the introduced character of the week, and the same complaints would be made: it’s just a new character intro blah blah blah. This wouldn’t fix anything! It would very much make it worse!)

Me, like every day, through gritted teeth: that's... not... how... tv... works...

Like be realistic for a hot second with me. Television is not "long movie"—it is a different medium with different rules. Yes, the past decade has blurred many lines between TV and film, but they're still different mediums, and when people blur them ("it's a 10-hour movie!") the results often suck ass, because you either lack episodic structure or you lack feature structure. Snyder is a feature filmmaker who has never worked in TV. Whenever features people jump into TV, it's a whole other learning curve! They're usually terrible at it! You want Snyder to have to learn a new medium? You want him to learn 5/6-act TV structure from scratch? You want him to (horrified gasp) lead a writers room? Those are not his strengths, baby. Let him play in his space opera sandbox.

And I'm not done! You want the casting team to have to deal with the headache of getting feature film actors to star in a TV show? (Pay cuts! Longer commitments! TV production timelines!) You want to do that to me, personally, and fuck up the TV landscape some more by going, "Oh, we can basically just make a Longer Feature Film in TV"? Fuck off with that. TV has different production realities and different basic story structures. A [long] film [with two parts] is still a film, in structure and production practicalities.

Truly, Tumblr media studies brains (derogatory) at it again.

To each their own, but again, I think RM's structure is fun because it gives me more of the goodies (badass, varied character intros) for the price of one (2-hour film.) Like... that's the good stuff, that's often the most exhilarating part of a film for me. And contrary to popular belief, it's not intro to intro without rising tension or stakes. It builds tension as it goes because new facets of resistance against the Motherworld are explored in each character's intro scene. New ways they fight back, new worlds on which they fight back. And a ticking time bomb of the King's Gaze (king's gays lol) catching up.

Here, have a trailer bc Tumblr's mad at me for too much text in one block.

youtube

...I like the RM characters. I want to spend time with them and see what other zany shenanigans Snyder will have them do. (Alien bar fights! Taming a space gryphon! Lightsaber battle!) I like the side-quest-y, exploratory, space opera sandbox playground nature. It's fun, and like, again, if you don't perk up at the concept of collecting cool characters like action figures, this film may just not be for you.

To me it's a polycule. Like, the most messed up polycule in the whole galaxy, but it's a polycule.

Speaking of: THE CHARACTERS ROCK. Yeah, we're missing some significant character development because Netflix truncated Snyder's 4-hr, R-rated film into a 2-hr PG-13 version (likely to be able to release the 4-hr cut later, drum up new press, and get more eyeballs on the movie in total in a few months.) That's... not really Snyder's fault [even though he claims he's in on the plan... some part of me thinks it was Netflix's idea and not his. Stinks of studio meddling.] And it's not indicative of the quality of the actual film, which I currently see as more of an abridged version of the R-rated film that's gonna come out and fill up some of these story holes.

If people are judging the film for not being the 4-hour version, and then decide not to see the 4-hour version, that's their call, but it's kinda shitty to act like the 2-hr version is all there is. Like it probably wasn't Snyder's call to do a 2-hr cut! He's said that the 4-hr one is a whole different movie. I betcha the common criticisms (not enough character development, just jumps from character intro to character intro without interconnection, lack of structure) will be helped, if not outright solved, by the longer cut.

I think people are also happy to take a Part 1 of a movie if it's, say, Dune, and the source material has another part, so Part 1 is allowed to be fucking boring, whereas people don't give that kind of allowance to original sci-fi movies, WHICH IS A REASON WE DON'T GET ORIGINAL SCI-FI. If you're painting with as huge and cosmic a palette as space opera Rebel Moon, the 4-8 hours total across the 2 four-hour parts is kinda bare minimum for an epic. So... patience is a virtue? Let part 1 have elements of IT'S KIND OF A PROLOGUE?

What's that saying? If you want the rewards of space opera worldbuilding with an ensemble cast, you must submit to the mortifying ordeal of 2 hours of setup. Geez. Enjoy the wacky exposition or get out of the space opera genre.

Yeah, that leads me to the point of people who don't enjoy space opera are getting mad at RM for fulfilling the promises of the genre. You might truly be happier elsewhere. The whole thing is over-the-top, huge-scale MELODRAMA and I thrive on melodrama. If it's too cheesy for you, don't come to space operas!!!!!!!

On that note, people have said RM is too tropey and too Star Wars-y. But like I said. If you don't love the tropes get out of the genre!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you aren't here for bloodier/hornier Star Wars get out of RM!!!!

Another big idea I would be remiss to skip over. RM is an explicitly, deliberately anti-colonial, anti-imperial text—far, far more so than any other mainstream sci-fi currently being released. Well-intentioned liberals love to tout Star Trek/Star Wars as progressive media but they really hedge and defang all their political commentary, especially in their 21st century franchise form—think the SW sequels/shows straight up woobifying K*lo Ren in realtime and the Trek shows that (while fun!) are really often just nostalgia bait.

RM is pretty fucking radical. Its theme basically is Kill Nazis—or in expanded form, something along the lines of "The empire will eat up everything of value in the universe unless it is met with unified armed resistance built on solidarity."

And just look at RM's casting. We're not colorblind here; we're very color-conscious. (That's a rant for another day, but I've really started to despise colorblind casting for its extremely well-intentioned-liberal "we're all the same" mentality. It just winds up erasing.) Anyway: RM features the explicitly American-English-Afrikaans empire vs. the Algerian Amazigh protagonist, Black freedom fighters, Japanese revolutionary... and like. Snyder's always gonna be into Vikings so obviously we have Space Vikings too, whatever. Look at me, I can criticize Snyder too! The Poor Sad Space Vikings are not the strongest part of the film!

...Anyway of course the empire vs. revolution is absolutely kind of Star Wars-y since RM is highkey Snyder's Star Wars, but it goes so much further than SW dreamed (or, perhaps, nightmared). SW's rebels/resistance continually get defanged because they're kind of foundationally space magic/singular hero's quest deals, and modern SW with the exception of Rogue One/Andor is just politically, socially stupid. In contrast, RM is about forming a coalition, without something like the Force to help you out. I could write an essay on the ways RM starts in the same place Star Wars starts but takes its politics so much more seriously, so much further.

While I'd argue "good politics" and "artistic quality" rarely correlate, RM is explicitly and doggedly a text about the colonial empire that exploits, enslaves, abuses, and seeks to utterly control marginalized people groups in its quest for domination—and god, I would LOVE to see a resurgence in very fanged, very angry political sci-fi.

One more aside. Snyder has been rightfully criticized for his earlier works basking in fascist-adjacent, hypermasculine aesthetics; 300 is notably super duper racist in how it depicts savage/monstrous Persians vs. Beautifully Good White Spartans Defending Their Culture. (more on "300 Bad" stored up in my brain if anyone wants THAT rant.) To Snyder's credit, none of his films since 300 have really done that—parts of Batman v Superman and his cut of Justice League purposefully poke fun at it. The hypermasculinity is kinda still there, but it's subsumed in the service of melodrama and mythic-flavored cinema, and it's kinda a staple of the action genre anyway, and if you're gonna criticize Snyder without criticizing EVERY ACTION MOVIE EVER, that's just more regurgitated Snyder haterism.

No one is doing mythic action like Snyder these days. No one has the balls and the command of melodrama & operatic visuals. And it comes clearly from Snyder's background in art & art history because all his shots are jam-packed with symbolism and meaning and allusion. So criticize the film for its weaknesses if you like but geez, if I see another post railing about the lack of CRAFT in RM, I will start biting. ALMOST NO BLOCKBUSTER HAS THIS LEVEL OF CRAFT. It's okay that you don't understand visual storytelling, babygirl, but please don't accuse Snyder of lacking craft.

Sorry, you've triggered Cinema Defense Mechanisms in me, I'm gonna have to sit down for a while after this.

I have more takes. Takes hot enough to fuel the King's Gaze (king's gays lol.) But I'll end with a funny observation: I transed my gender (cheers, shouts, hoorays) just about the time I was getting ready to watch Rebel Moon, and in one shocking, epiphanic moment I turned to my partner and went "Of COURSE I'm a man. I like Zack Snyder." So........... do with that what you will.

#rebel moon #dragoninthelibrary #rebel moon spoilers #long post

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found-family-tournament · 1 year

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Found Family Tournament Round 1 Part 2 Group 6

Propaganda and further pictures under the cut

SHIELD Team: Phil Coulson, Melinda May, Daisy Johnson, Jemma Simmons, Leopold Fitz, Antoine 'Trip' Triplett, Alfonso 'Mack' Mackenzie, Elena 'Yo-Yo' Rodriguez, Lance Hunter, Bobbi Morse, Enoch, Deke Shaw, Daniel Sousa, Kora (They're a fluid group)

Submissions are still open!

The SHIELD Team:

Running theme of the show is finding family/making a home in people, ALSO they have a really unique and excellent and realistic bittersweet ending - not separating forever, they do grow in different directions but that doesn't mean they're not family or that they never see each other again ALSO they get bonus points for the exchange "This is my family." "Of course." in the last season when the one character (who never had a family) is faced with losing this one (she doesn't lose them! things change but the love remains) hhhhrrggh it does things to me

Hershel Layton, Luke Triton & Flora Reinhold:

Sorry, I got no propaganda for them yet :(

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taurussoulastrology · 4 months

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Mythology Series #1

Persephone (asteroid 399)

The goddess of spring and queen of the underworld, AKA Kora, was the daughter of Ceres(Demeter) and Zeus (Jupiter). Throughout the story, I will keep it as Ceres and Zeus.

Even though Persephone isn't part of the planets and is only a minor asteroid, her mythology and archetype is a story to know. In my opinion, I see her connected to the Taurus Scorpio access. She's also part of the triple moon symbol as the waxing crescent representing the maiden. Her mother Ceres is represented by the full moon, the mother, and Hecate, the waning crescent as the crone. If you're into rituals or getting into them and looking for a goddess to work with, Persephone is one to consider. I work with her and feel very connected to her through my natal chart placements.

So there are quite a few different stories about how the goddess of spring also became the queen of the underworld, I will tell it the way I know and how I feel it fits best with her in my mind.

So The Story Goes Like This. One beautiful day Persephone was out picking flowers when she was kidnapped by Hades (Pluto) and brought down to the underworld. (She would have been kidnapped by Hermes which is Mercury as no god was able to cross to the underworld or back, in another series we'll talk about Mercury as he was messenger of the gods since he was not a god himself he was able to go to the underworld and back.) Ceres was so distraught trying to find her daughter as she was extremely close with her. She begged Zeus to send Hermes to go fetch their daughter. What Ceres didn't know was that Zeus promised Persephone to his brother Hades so they would be married. Persephone was not happy. She longed to go back home with her mother. Ceres being so angry, she used her power and made it so that there was no harvest for the mortals. Zeus freaked out! He loved being worshiped by the mortals, and with no harvest, the mortals got pissed and vowed to stop worshiping him. So he talked to Hades and asked him to send his daughter back home. During this time, Pluto/Hades had been trying to get Persephone to submit to him by beating her and raping her, but she refused to be his queen. He had even promised that all the gods would worship her, but she was not interested. She just longed to go back home. Zeus asked Hades to please send her back, and he agreed since she wouldn't submit to him as the story goes. But he's sneaky, before letting Persephone leave, he asked her to at least eat something. So she ate six pomegranate seeds and then let Hermes take Persephone back to her parents. Ceres was so thrilled, she used her powers to bring back the harvest. She then thought that it was too easy to get her back and asked Persephone, "Did you eat anything before you left the underworld?" Persephone told her mother about the pomegranate seeds. Again, her mother became enraged as these seeds made Persephone connected to the underworld. So Persephone would have to go back in order to stay alive. She would be allowed back to Earth for springtime, but would have to return to the underworld again. When Persephone would have to leave and the harvest ended (Autumn Equinox, Mabon), and when she came back, so did the foliage and grains (spring equinox, Ostara). Eventually, Persephone made the best of her situation even though her mother was not happy. Ceres refused to change things to the way it was.

Persephone stepped into both roles; the goddess of spring and queen of the underworld.

This story shows how to integrate both the light and the dark. It shows great strength and inner power. It shows how you can transform yourself with a change of perception and willpower.

Now I equate Persephone to the Taurus-Scorpio axis because we have spring in Taurus season, the foliage and flowers are all in bloom (and even thousands of years ago spring equinox was actually during Taurus season). When Persephone goes back to the underworld that starts the Autumn Equinox, but remember Libra was once part of the Scorpio constellation, and that's when we have the equinox. Also, Scorpio is ruled by Pluto and is the sign and energy of transformation. As I mentioned earlier, she's also part of the triple moon symbol (below), being the waxing crescent. So if you work with the moon, you're working with Persephone in a way already.

Like I mentioned, there are many versions to the story, and with mythology, we can change them a bit to fit the times we are in or to fit how we resonate with it.

Finding an archetype or archetypes to connect to can really help any healing process. Also knowing the archetypes of our solar system can help you better understand astrology and your own charts.

I feel I resonate with Persephone through my chart as my Cancer moon is a waxing crescent, Ceres is cazimi to my Taurus Sun 8th House. Persephone/Asteroid 399 is also in wide conjunction to my North Node, they both inconjunct my sun/Ceres and Pluto/Ascendant. During my solar returns, it's spring, and everything is in bloom when the sun conjuncts my Ascendant it's during autumn equinox.

Some items to use for rituals to work with Persephone:

●Offerings - pomegranate seeds, lily's, narcissus(yellow flower similar to daffodils), roses, violets, crocus, iris, jasmine, or larkspur, bones, apples, acorns, bare branches, milk, honey, red wine, or corn. These all depend on the time of year. Also you can use these to decorate your altar with.

○Really, you can use any spring flower as she is the goddess of spring!

●Wearing a floral crown or an iron crown depending on the time of year.

●Wearing pastel colors during the spring and summer; dark colors in the fall and winter.

●Using our wearing garnet. The word "Garnet" is derived from the Latin Granatum and can be associated with pomegranate due to the color.

●Carnelian, ruby, onyx, obsidian, or any red or dark colored crystal. Garnet, obsidian, and onyx are wonderful protection stones, too. The dark stones are symbolic to shadow work, rest, and renewal. The red stones are symbolic of passion, connection, and renewal. Using green colored stones during spring or clear quartz and amethyst for anytime of year.

*There's also a great book about her if you're interested in learning more about her and rituals to work with her. It's called 'Persephone's Pathway' by Jennifer Heather.

The symbol below represents Persephone and is a combination of Ceres and Pluto along with the Cresent moon and 6 dots to represent the 6 pomegranate seeds.

#MythologySeries

#TaurusSoulAstrology

#Persephone

#AstrologyCommunity

#astrology community #Persephone #mythology #archetypes #i love astrology #asteroid 399

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mndvx · 11 months

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REBEL MOON (2023) | Empire Magazine Exclusive Images Zack Snyder’s Sci-Fi Epic Rebel Moon Is ‘An Accumulation Of Everything He’s Done Thus Far’

You could never accuse Zack Snyder of taking the easy road. Throughout his career, the filmmaker has made a habit of facing up to Herculean tasks – whether being the person to finally unite the Justice League on screen, or to successfully adapt Alan Moore’s master-work Watchmen, or take on a reinvention of Dawn Of The Dead as his first feature film. But all of that pales in comparison to Rebel Moon. For his next project, Snyder is cooking up a whole new universe – quite literally – in a multi-part sci-fi blowout. And while it draws from several significant cinematic touchstones, its signature is all Snyder’s own. “I feel like this movie is an accumulation of everything he’s done thus far,” producer Deborah Snyder tells Empire in our world-exclusive Rebel Moon cover feature. “There’s so much to it, and so much thought in the production design and the languages and the characters.” It’s easy to agree. Rebel Moon looks to have a similarly expansive plan to his DC ‘Snyder-verse’, this story already split across two movies with plans for more to come. As a sci-fi war story, expect similarly burly, imaginative action as Army Of The Dead and Sucker Punch. And for sheer, ambitious world-building? Well, Snyder has long been flexing that muscle, building it up across his whole career. Taking inspiration from Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai, Rebel Moon sees a group of galactic heroes – including Sofia Boutella’s Kora, Charlie Hunnam’s Kai, Djimon Hounsou’s General Titus, Doona Bae’s Nemesis and more – band together to help the peaceful moon of Veldt stave off the demands of the evil Imperium. In particular, Ed Skrein’s Admiral Atticus Noble. Split across Part One and Part Two, Snyder is able to let his story breathe. “If we cut it down to one movie, we pretty much know how that goes. By page 15 we’re on the road. With a recruitment movie, trust me, I know,” he laughs, acknowledging his own history of assembling ensemble casts. The difference between a single three-hour cut and the two-part approach will be felt. “There are no surprises in that [single] movie,” says the writer-director. “Four hours is a whole different kettle of fish.” If Part One will be about getting the band together (with all the action you’d expect from a Snyder joint), then expect an even more explosive Part Two. That, says Zack Snyder, is “the war movie, like a Normandy invasion film, but with the first hour in France.” Except, France is now, well, space. Most importantly, the two-part scope will allow time to establish the cast of characters, and the significant stakes for all involved when it comes to standing up to the Imperium. “It’s very much a movie about, ‘What would you sacrifice yourself for?’” poses Snyder. “Everyone’s a little bit broken, but there’s a real catharsis in the journey.” The rebellion begins here.

#rebel moon #zack snyder #sofia boutella #charlie hunnam #netflix #CINEMAAAA CINEMAAAAAA

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macabr3-barbi3 · 4 days

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new love, new skin (Vox x OC)

"When Vox falls to Hell in 1958- when he is still Vincent- he meets her; sweet, beautiful, golden Kora, who fixes his busted screen and gives him something he hadn't known he was missing. How long can a good thing last until it falls to pieces?"

(Hi everyone I have an actual OC now that I'm working on a series for! I hope you love her as much as I do and a big thanks to @fraugwinska for helping me plan and develop her character and being her biggest fan so far ❤️If you read my oneshot request 'Heart Reset' this is that same character- that will be left as Reader Insert though and can still be read separately from this series 💕 the series will provide more context to their relationship before the events in that fic)

Tags: First Meetings; First Kiss; Falling In Love; shitty apartments; adding tags as I update so things aren't as spoiled lol; Vox goes by a different name; Fluff and Angst; lots of fluff; Lots of Angst; fast burn lol

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55804729/chapters/141678643

January 1958

There’s a body crouching over him, soft wisps of hair trailing over his bare chest as he squints against the red of the morning.

What was that fucking phrase? Red in the morning, sailors take warning, or some shit along those lines. Sound logic if the aching pain in his skull was anything to go by- he’d have to give Ma a ring, tell him that one of Pop’s shitty old sayings finally made some sense to him. But God, if he wouldn’t kill someone for an aspirin right now. His head ached, some distant pain behind his left eye that throbbed through his entire body, and he lets out a soft moan when he tries to open it and his head splits with the agony of it.

“Hold on,” a quiet voice tells him- the sound is a balm to his fried nerves. “Give me just a minute, I’m trying to find- yes! ” There’s metallic clanging close to his head before its lifted from the ground and placed on something soft- a jacket maybe? What had he been laying on before? “Don’t open your eyes yet,” the voice tells him, and part of him wants to resist- who the hell did they think they were telling him what to do? - but it's overridden by the pulsing pain in his head that says that’s actually probably for the best. He lays there as the person- he thinks it might be a woman- fiddles with something next to him. He opens his mouth to ask her a question-

And the next thing he knows he’s propped up against a wall in some sort of dump, the throbbing behind his eye gone and no longer having to squint to see. The sky is still red, which is weird, but he ignores that in favor of looking at what’s around him. There’s busted glass and plastic nearby, a cracked television lying on its side, a pile of rusted wires and tools and what could be his shirt, maybe. He didn’t remember what he had been wearing when he passed out but it looks to be roughly his size even if it is covered in blood. Then again, maybe that was just a side effect of the weird sky. He tilts his head up to look at it and- fuck, yeah, he’s still a little too dizzy to be doing that. He brings a hand up to his head, to rub at the sockets of his eyes like he usually did, and his fingers bounce uselessly against glass when he hits some kind of glass.

“Shit, you’re awake,” he hears to his left, and he turns to see this woman- at least, he thinks its a woman- approach him, crouch low to the ground like he’s some rabid animal. She… almost looks like a dog, he thinks, like a golden retriever but a little more human in the face besides her nose and the floppy ears that adorn the top of her head. Her arms are covered in a dusting of fur that reminds him of his ma’s dog back home, soft and silky from the looks of it where her limbs stick out from the men’s t-shirt she wears. “Don’t freak out,” she says, eyebrows drawn in a way that implies that she definitely thinks he’s going to freak out.

He watches her sit on her knees next to him and then she’s reaching out to touch him- hands on either side of his face, turning his head left and right. She runs her fingers up the side of his head and it… doesn’t feel like he thinks it should. He makes a noise of protest and she smiles at him, sharp little canines peeking out from the crooked grin. “What’s your name?” She asks him, and it takes a second longer than it should before it comes to him.

“Vincent,” he tells her, “but I don’t- why did I forget it?”

“I’m Kora,” she offers with a hand held out, and he doesn’t look down as she says it, just lets her shake his arm. “Forgetting is normal at first- stuff will start to come back to you.” She goes back to her inspection of his face and head, and he finally has the sense to pull back.

“Where am I?” He finally asks, and her smile falters only slightly as she stands, holds a hand out to him to take to help him up. He braces an arm on the wall and stands without her help, legs trembling a bit until he straightens his stance, head feeling oddly heavy. “What did you do to me?”

She fiddles with her hands before him, and he notices that she has little black claws on the ends of her fingers. “I… really think you should be sitting down, when I tell you,” she says, and when he shakes his head she sighs. “Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you. This,” she says, gesturing around the dump, “is Hell. The Pride Ring, if you want to get technical. As far as what I did- I helped you.”

“Oh. Well, that’s not so bad,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “So I died, huh? Knew it was coming for me, doll, I guess I just didn’t think it would be so soon.” He looks around the area, finally recognizes that the red in the sky was coming from a giant pentagram that stretched beyond his vision- very on brand. “How did I die?”

The woman- Kora, he reminds himself- looks away. “I’m not sure,” she tells him. “I wasn’t with you when you died. I just… happened to be nearby as you fell.”

“As I…” He looks up at the sky, distant blurs coming through the atmosphere like stars, and it hits him like a truck- the searing pain as he hurtled through the sky, flesh burning, body shifting and reshaping before he had struck the ground, the blossoming pain, agonizing crunch when he had landed on his head. His hands fly up at the memory, trying to grip at his hair like he used to when he was stressed and finding a smooth plastic surface with no grip, nothing to hang onto. The thread of his sanity tightens, threatens to snap as he feels around like she had, to the back of his head- a clunky old television , not unlike the one that sat on the ground a few feet from them- and the now smooth surface of his face.

“I… I did the best I could,” Kora says quietly, and he snaps his head to look at her. “I don’t really have a lot of knowledge about electronics but it wasn’t too hard to match the wires up to the new one when I followed those from the old one. I think the wire for your left eye got damaged in the fall though- there’s probably an expert around here somewhere, or there will be one in the next few years if you really want to get the color fixed…” She keeps talking but Vincent has turned away from her, dropped to his knees in front of the old television on the ground- his fucking head mere hours ago, apparently- and uses it to look at his reflection.

And fuck, yeah- he was a television, alright. Just like the one at his ma’s place, thick rimmed frame in that tacky yellowish white. Not even one of the nice ones like he had had at the news station. His eyes are huge and red, one outlined in the same electric blue as his pupils, and when his mouth drops open in disbelief he sees the teeth. Huge, razor sharp, they seem to grow and warp with his mouth as he moves it, testing expressions. He lets his lips hang open and sticks his tongue out, pulls at it with his fingers. It had to be Hell, because no way would something like this be possible anywhere else. How could he have a screen for a face and still have a functional mouth and tongue?

He starts to laugh, low and manic, cutting Kora off in the middle of whatever she had been talking about. He couldn’t even remember how he died, how fucking funny was that? And now he was in Hell, no clue how he got there, basically freshly lobotomized into a new head, and his only companion was a mutt that wouldn’t stop fucking talking to him. She approaches him cautiously, hands held out in front of her like he might bite- fuck, with these teeth, maybe he should. “Get the fuck away from me,” he laughs, and he can feel the thread pull taut, stretch to its limits as he laughs and backs away from her, away from his old head, into the wall.

She drops to her knees in front of him, isn’t put off by his laughing or snarling in her face. “It’ll be okay,” she says, and reaches a hand out to his face. It comes away wet - how the fuck was he crying right now? “I promise, it’s okay. You’ll be fine.” His laughter dissolves into sobbing, and he can’t tell how his head ended up wedged against her shoulder with her arms around him.

It’s a good fit though, and he guesses that counts for something.

With some effort, since his legs didn’t seem to want to work, Kora manages to get him back to her little apartment outside of a place called Imp City. Vincent had tried to help- he really had- but his body felt limp, television head slumped uselessly against her shoulder as she essentially dragged him. He pulls himself together and apologizes to her at least, because his mother raised a goddamn gentleman, and she waves it off. “Already did it once,” she says cheerfully, “I had to drag you to the junkyard when I saw that your head was… you know.” She gestures to it as she helps him settle on the couch, head falling back against the firm cushion. “I saw that your mouth opens- do you want some coffee? Or water? It’s not as good as it is on Earth but hey, it’s something!” She flutters around the kitchen area, the faint smell of ground coffee beans filling the tiny space, and Vincent takes a look around while she burns off some of her apparent nervous energy.

He had seen some shitty apartments before but Jesus - the place was a shithole. It was neat enough, he supposed, Kora’s things put away neatly on the limited shelf space that she had, a soft green blanket draped over the back of the couch that he runs his hands over. But paint peeled off the walls in chipping swatches; strange stains covered the ceiling; there was a gap where the window met the sill, and a warm breeze was drifting through it. He could hear faint yelling from both sides and above them, and it reminded him so much of his first dorm in college that he can’t help but chuckle.

Kora’s head turns to him, one ear quirking up in curiosity. “Sorry,” Vincent says, “just. This place is a dump. No offense,” he adds when her face falls.

She still offers him a smile. “You’re fine; I know it's not great but it’s what I can afford and it was close to my- my friend.” Her eyes go distant for a moment, lost in thought staring at the wall behind him until she shakes her head. “But this is where we are anyway- you don’t have to stay, of course. I just figured you could rest here for a bit before you go on your way. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay, I think. I mean, besides-” He waves vaguely at his head as she hands him the cup she holds, taking a deep gulp of the too-hot coffee. It scalds his throat on the way down, which he should probably be more upset about, but he’s mostly just pleased that he has sensation at all. He would have to find some spare time to really inspect his body beyond the head swap and the new sharp tips to his fingers, blue and pointy where they’re wrapped around the mug with some cheesy, upbeat saying on it. His skin is blue as well, a dark navy that continues up his arms. “So what am I gonna owe you for all this?”

Her brows quirk up. “For the coffee? Nothing. I’ll pay you to take it off my hands.” She smiles at him, a little peek of sharp canines as her lips part.

“Nah, for helping me. I’m not dumb, I know nothing comes for free in life- I assume it's the same in the afterlife if that’s what this shit is. I don’t have any money, you know.”

She shakes her head, the gold of her hair glinting in the glow from the shitty light that hangs overhead. “Nothing owed- there’s no debt. I really am just trying to help.”

“Then you’re stupid,” he says bluntly, manners slipping out the gap in the window, and to his amazement she doesn’t take offense- she laughs, loud and bell-like in the small room, the sound occupying all of the space between them.

She swaps cups with him, replacing his empty one with her full one that she had yet to take a sip of. “Maybe I am,” she shrugs, “but you’re reaping the benefits either way, aren’t you?” She pours the last of the coffee into the mug she took from him and settles onto the floor, leaning back against the cabinet under the sink. Better Latte than Never, the ceramic tells him from across the room where its held in her hands, and she smiles up at him from her new position. “The way I see it- you’ll either also be a good person and be thankful that I’m helping you, maybe wash the cups when we’re done as a sign of gratitude; or, you’ll fly off the handle and kill me, in which case I would be back in a couple days anyway and we’d have to do this again.”

He hesitates, surprised when his head lets off a staticky hum. “What if I’m a good person and I’m thankful but I don’t do the dishes?” He takes one had off the cup he still holds- Bean There, Done That, this one says- and waves his fingers at her. “I’m not sure if all of me is electronic in some way. I’m not trying to get electrocuted so soon after… fuck, why can’t I remember how I died?”

The look she gives him feels like pity, makes him want to snarl and show off his new, sharp teeth. “It happens for a lot of people. Your mind kind of has to re-acclimate, process all the new information, the new form. It’ll come to you soon, I’m sure.”

“Do you remember?”

She flinches, the lines of her face deepening a bit as she stares down into her coffee, still untouched. “I do- I wish I didn’t, sometimes, but it’s always there in the back of my mind, you know? Everyone is different though.”

Vincent sighs and moves his hand like he means to brush his hair back, the action purely muscle memory before he remembers that he doesn’t have hair anymore. “Gotcha. I guess I could at least stick around that long, until I remember just to make sure no one is out for my head or anything.” He looks down at himself, remembering now that his chest is bare from where she had apparently taken it off him to use as a pillow in the junkyard. “You wouldn’t happen to have any clothing I could borrow, would you?”

“Oh, of course!” She picks herself up off the ground, sets her still untouched coffee back on the counter and dips through a door in the hallway, emerging with her spoils that she throws to him- a large black t-shirt that simply says fuck in slanting cursive. “I can swing by somewhere later and get you some other things, that might be a little tight on you since you’re bigger than I am.” Kora watches him for a moment, her cheeks flushing a bit before she turns away. “You know what I mean. Broader in the shoulders and all.”

His smile feels strange on his new face, but it's genuine at least. “Gotcha. Thanks, doll.” He chuckles a little at the way that she makes a point of turning around while he put the shirt on, stretching tight but not uncomfortably across his chest despite how oversized it probably was on her. With her turned around he can see the tail that sticks out of a hole in the back of her pants, long and fluffy and the same gold as her hair.

Decently clothed, he indicates that she can turn back around, and she swaps their cups one last time. She pulls a jacket off the back of the door and slips her arms through it, and at his raised eyebrow- or, he figures, the image of a raised eyebrow- she grabs a bag off the floor, full of what appears to be things like newspapers and small packages. “Happy as I was to help you, it did make me late- I was just stepping out for an early morning walk when I noticed you falling, and fixing your screen took a little longer than I thought it would. You’re free to hang out until I come back- or I guess you could rob me blind if you’re that desperate for a couple books, punny coffee mugs and a blanket. That would show me, huh?” Kora’s smile is soft but he can see the vague uncertainty behind it- maybe she did think that’s what he was planning.

Vincent shrugs, leaning back into the couch. “I’ll try to resist the urge,” he says, and her face brightens.

“You can make more coffee if you want,” she says. “And you’re welcome to read anything on the shelves- there’s not much but maybe that will also be a deterrent to stealing them.” She glances at the clock on the wall, indicating a mere nine in the morning. “I’ll have to go right from the hub to Viv’s- its a diner nearby, just a little extra cash,” she explains when he gives her a confused expression. “But I should be home before midnight… if you’re still here.” She finishes her little speech, looking a little embarrassed. “You can also leave though if you want! I’m not gonna like. Hold you hostage or anything.”

The smirk that takes his face over feels natural, finally- a face he used to make that he can make again, the memory of his muscles not betraying him with something that doesn’t feel the same. “I don’t think you could if you tried,” he says, looking her over, and Kora flushes and fumbles with the straps of her bag.

“Drug your ass here from the junkyard, didn’t I? I’m stronger than I look.” She lifts her chin in defiance, the move letting her catch sight of the clock again. “Shit, I really gotta go- maybe see you later, Vincent?” She says it like a question instead of a statement, the tilt of her eyebrows hopeful.

“Yeah,” he finds himself saying, “I’ll still be here. I’ll stay.” She flashes him a brilliant smile and ducks out the door, lock clicking into place. Vincent sees her through the window unhooking a bike from a lamppost, throwing her hair up into a ponytail before she catches sight of him through the window. She throws him a wave and she’s off, bike shooting down the street and leaving him behind.

It only takes an hour or so to get bored of lounging on the couch after Kora leaves, and then he’s walking down the short hallway and opening the first door he finds- the bathroom. He strips all the way down, pants and borrowed t-shirt folded neatly on the toilet while he inspects himself in the mirror that hangs off the back of the door.

At least he was still fucking hot, he muses to himself, twisting his torso to get a good look at every inch of himself. Thankfully, everything from his neck down appeared to be normal biology; when he looks a little closer at a deep gouge in his neck he thinks he might be able to see some wires but he doesn’t want to mess with it, risk messing something up so badly that he dies again. His blue skin is covered in blood from the cut, and he rifles through the cabinets to find a washcloth, wiping himself down gently and throwing it in the sink. He continues his inspection- his muscles are still lean and firm like they had been when he was alive. He even had some cool stripes along his ribs and thighs and biceps, scar-like in texture when he touched them. He flexes at himself in the mirror, lets that cocky smile take over his features, and-

Yeah, there he was; even if his face looked a little different now, that was the Vincent that he knew himself as. Confident. Self-assured. Strong. Sexy. He appreciated Kora’s help, he wasn’t ungrateful, but he probably would have been fine on his own. Eventually, anyway.

He examines his back, the stripes extending across the expanse of it before wrapping around the sides. After a solid examination he lets his eyes fall between his legs, satisfied enough with what he sees- he takes himself in hand for just a moment, another minor inspection to make sure everything seems to be in working order, before he pulls his clothing back on and crosses the hall to the other room.

Kora’s room. It smells like coffee and almond, her bed haphazardly made with threadbare sheets of pale yellow and dark blue. There’s a table under the window with what looks like an assortment of junk on it- when he gets closer he can see that it’s… still an assortment of junk, but themed junk. Beads, colorful pieces of paper, scraps of metal and a variety of colored markers and pens. There are little sketches on the papers and what looks to be the start of a piece of jewelry that Vincent picks up to inspect. A little pawprint made of bits of metal, like one might see on a dog collar. He chuckles and slips it into his pocket- he figures if he does end up leaving this would be something to remember the strange woman by, a little token of her kindness to him.

He briefly glances in her closet, a couple dresses and pairs of trousers hanging. Her t-shirts and undergarments occupy the drawers of the dresser, neatly folded along with her pajamas. There’s a photo on her nightstand, Kora and someone that looked like a bat, winged arm slung over her shoulder and a close-lipped smile on her lips.

Was this her friend that she said lived nearby? The reason that she stayed in this shitty place?

He exits the bedroom, closing the door behind himself and coming back to the living area. There are sticky notes everywhere; on the dying plant by the windowsill (fucking water me!!!), on the fridge (low on eggs and milk), on the coffee table (talk to Viv about changing shift). He looks through her kitchen drawers- two sets of silverware, he notices- and moves on to the shelves that line the walls. Duplicates of titles he had seen or heard of on Earth, low budget cookbooks, anatomy and medical texts for both human and non-human beings. He briefly glances through the latter, but can’t seem to find anything about bodies only partially made of mechanic materials just flipping through the pages.

He picks a couple of books off the shelf- the Chronicles of Narnia, the covers say, which might be a little low grade for him but he didn’t have the mental capacity to really focus on anything other than not dying a second time out of boredom.

Vincent is a third of the way through the second book when the lock of the door turns and Kora enters, setting her bag on the floor and slipping off her shoes before she turns and sees him stretched comfortably across the couch. “You’re still here!” She picks up the bag and thrusts it towards him, forcing him to dog-ear the page he was on so he didn’t lose his place to take the offered package. “I brought some leftovers from Viv’s- I didn’t know what you liked so I just got a bit of everything, you go ahead and take what you think you want and I’ll take whatever is left.” She grabs a couple plates out of the cabinet and sets them on the coffee table. “Let me change and swap out the sheets on the bed- you’re taller than I am so you can take the bed-”

He puts a hand up- he was fine accepting help but he drew the line at letting her sleep on the couch. “Wait, hold on Kora-”

She halts in the hallway. “Are you not staying?”

“No! No, I mean- I am staying for now but I don’t want to put you out. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She snorts, a rough, charming noise that echoes in the hallway. “You’re sure about that?”

Vincent shrugs, his smile feeling a little more normal again. “I’ll figure it out. A gentleman would never displace a lady from her bed.” He shoots her a wink, making her blush and scurry into her bedroom. He opens the container she had handed him and takes a deep sniff of the meal, his mouth watering as he forks some of the meat and potatoes and vegetables onto one of the plates. As a courtesy he puts the rest of it on her plate, as close to even as he could get it.

When Kora reemerges her hair is pulled into a loose braid, wearing another oversized t-shirt that hangs to the middle of her thighs. It should be scandalous, for her to have so much skin exposed, but… it suited her, he thought. She looked comfortable, and cute. And really- it was Hell. Who was left to judge her here? Or him for that matter, if he watched the muscles of her legs flex as she crossed the room to sit across the table from him, smiling at the plate he had prepared for her.

She notices the book that he had been reading, fussing for a bit at the folded page where he marked his spot and using a bit of paper on the stand from the restaurant as a makeshift bookmark. They talk a bit about the books, her having read what was out of the series before she died and waiting for the rest of them to trickle their way down from up top. She’s a good conversationalist, he’s surprised to find, and they pass a good bit of time chatting before the weight of some good food in his stomach and the stress of the day hits him like a truck, his yawn making his screen warp and stretch. She notices- of course she does- and is immediately rushing around again, racing to get a pillow, another blanket, did he need the radio on?

“Kora.” She pauses mid stretch onto her tiptoes, already having brought a pillow and another blanket and now reaching for a radio that sits on a higher shelf in the room and switching it on. “You’ve done enough for me today. Thank you, but seriously- I’m fine. Go to sleep.”

She goes flat again, arms crossed and fiddling with the sleeves of her shirt. “You’re right- God, yeah, sorry, I just get- Right. Sorry.” She offers him a smile, pulling her braid over her shoulder and flicking the end of it. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

He finds himself nodding, even as he’s wondering how loudly the door would squeak if he crept out after she fell asleep. “I’ll be here,” he says. “Good night.”

“Night, Vincent.” She exits the living area, the sink running in the bathroom- brushing her teeth maybe? - before her bedroom door opens and closes.

He watches the clock, giving it an hour before he rises from the couch and approaches her bedroom. The door opens silently, not so much as a creak, and his excuse he had come up with for if she was still awake dies on his lips when he sees that she’s completely out, face slack and sweet in sleep. He closes it behind himself and heads for the front door.

She was a nice woman, and he appreciated her help. But he didn’t need her- he didn’t need anyone taking care of him. He would find his own way like he had on Earth, what little bits he can remember. He would rise on his own without any help. Hell couldn’t be that much different.

He hesitates for a moment before swiping the book he had been reading off her table to take with him. He would probably have to find the rest of the series somewhere, eventually, but he couldn’t just leave something half finished now that he had started it. He gets to the door, even goes as far as unlocking and twisting the knob before he realizes that he doesn’t have any shoes. He was determined to be self-sufficient again but really- there was only so much a man could do with no shoes.

And no money.

And nowhere to live.

He still opens the door and peeks out into the street, the night quiet and the red of the pentagram distantly glowing. Its dark and a little smelly, strange shadows around every corner, fucking eyes on the mailboxes and shit. He turns back to Kora’s apartment; softly lit by light of the radio screen; small but comfortable and homey.

He closes the door and settles back onto the couch, folding his legs up in a way that allowed him to fit somewhat comfortably on the furniture. He pulls the blanket over himself, feeling his screen get dimmer as his mind goes blank. He would make a more solid decision about what to do in the morning, but as of right now he didn’t think Kora would mind him staying a bit longer.

What could be the harm in sticking around another couple of days?

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