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newstfionline · 9 months

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Friday, July 21, 2023

‘Disturbing’ decline in global nuclear security, watchdog says (Washington Post) Nuclear security risks are rising for the first time in a decade, according to an annual index released Tuesday by the Nuclear Threat Initiative, a Washington-based watchdog nonprofit that looks beyond the well-known nuclear threats such as weapons proliferation, and toward less widely considered problems, such as the storage of weapons-usable uranium that could be exploited by terrorist groups or the safety of nuclear sites during conflicts. The report marks the first time that the organization’s Nuclear Security Index, in an attempt to piece together a big picture of the global nuclear threat, finds that security had gotten worse since the dataset’s origin in 2012. The report also comes amid spiraling geopolitical tension over conflict near nuclear sites in Ukraine and stalling efforts at nonproliferation and international regulation. The renewed concern is understandable: Some Kremlin officials have openly suggested that Russia could use some form of nuclear weapon if pushed too far in the conflict, while Russian troops left the infamous site of a Soviet-era nuclear disaster, Chernobyl, in a dangerous state of ill repair after a months-long period of occupation and looting last year.

Drug onslaught pushes violence to record levels in Costa Rica: Security Minister (Reuters) The influence of Mexican drug gangs and increased cocaine output in Colombia have pushed murders toward record levels in Costa Rica, a top official said, casting a shadow over a country that has long been a beacon of stability in the region. Costa Rica closed 2022 with a record 656 murders. But 2023 is getting worse: the tally jumped 42% in the first half of the year compared to last year, official data show. “We’ve got a Mexicanization of crime,” Costa Rican Security Minister Mario Zamora said in an interview with Reuters this week, pointing to increased clashes between gangs in broad daylight that has Costa Ricans worried about both their safety and the impact on tourism, on which the economy heavily depends.

Protesters take to Peru’s streets (Reuters) Tens of thousands of protesters took to the streets in Peru on Wednesday in marches organized by groups opposed to President Dina Boluarte, while police arrested at least six. Many Peruvians accuse Boluarte and her allies of illegitimately removing and jailing her leftist predecessor Pedro Castillo, which led to sometimes violent protests through March in which 67 people were killed. The unrest is also fueled by longstanding anger over widespread poverty and deep inequality that has persisted even as the major copper-producing nation has grown wealthier.

Facing a Future of Drought, Spain Turns to Medieval Solutions (NYT) High in Spain’s southern mountains, 40 or so people armed with pitchforks and spades cleared stones and piles of grass from an earthwork channel built centuries ago and still keeping the slopes green. “It’s a matter of life,” said Antonio Jesús Rodríguez García, a farmer from the nearby village of Pitres, population 400. “Without this water, the farmers can’t grow anything, the village can’t survive.” In Spain, temperatures reached 109 degrees Fahrenheit on Tuesday. Such heat and extended droughts have presented the threat that three-quarters of the country could be engulfed by creeping deserts over this century. Faced with that reality, Spanish farmers, volunteers and researchers have reached deep into history for solutions, turning to a sprawling network of irrigation canals built by the Moors, the Muslim population that conquered and settled in the Iberian Peninsula in the Middle Ages. The channels—called “acequias,” from the Arabic “as-saqiya,” which means water conduit—have made life possible in one of Europe’s driest regions, supplying the fountains of the majestic Alhambra palace and turning the region, Andalusia, into an agricultural powerhouse. Many acequias fell into disuse around the 1960s. Now, the intricate system, seen as a low-cost and effective tool for mitigating drought, is being revived, one abandoned acequia at a time.

Russia’s latest threat (Foreign Policy) Beginning Thursday, any ships bound for Ukrainian ports will be deemed a threat and their flag states considered a party to the war on Ukraine’s side, the Kremlin announced on Wednesday. On Monday, Russia pulled out of the Black Sea grain deal, which granted ships transporting grain from the region safety. This comes as Moscow continued its third straight day of airstrikes against grain silos in the Ukrainian port city of Odesa. The United Nations has condemned Russia’s targeting of critical food supplies, but Moscow seems unlikely to curb its attacks.

A Current War Collides With the Past: Remnants of World War II in Ukraine (NYT) Clambering over boulders, past old tires and shellfish-encrusted scrap metal, Oleksandr Shkalikov ventured onto the dry bed of a vast reservoir. Out in this wasteland rested a haunting reminder of long-ago battles on this same swath of southern Ukraine: a swastika, chipped into a rock, had emerged from the receding water. The year “1942” was written next to it. “History is repeating itself,” Mr. Shkalikov, a tank driver on leave from the Ukrainian army, said of the World War II-era carving. “We are fighting this war on the same landscape and with the same weapons” as those used in World War II, he said, evoking the heavy artillery and tanks that still shape the course of a land war. Ukraine’s military history is cropping up on the battlefield as well. Terrain and rivers have often channeled the armies of today into the sites of some of the fiercest fighting in World War II, when German and Soviet troops swept over the valleys and the expanses of wide-open plains.

Auckland shooting leaves 2 dead, 6 hurt hours before Women’s World Cup opens (Washington Post) A deadly shooting in downtown Auckland threatened to overshadow the opening game of the Women’s World Cup on Thursday, although New Zealand’s prime minister said the event will go ahead as planned, with an increased police presence. A lone gunman armed with a pump-action shotgun entered a construction site not far from where many of the teams are staying on Thursday morning, barely 12 hours before the opening game. Two people were killed and six wounded, including a police officer. The gunman was found dead a short time later after a standoff with armed police. Prime Minister Chris Hipkins said initial investigations indicated that there wasn’t any political or ideological motivation to the shooting. Gun-related violence is rare here and gun controls are strict.

Quran burning threatens Iraq-Sweden ties (Foreign Policy) Iraq threatened to sever diplomatic ties with Sweden on Thursday over the desecration of a Quran in Stockholm. Swedish residents, with authorization from the nation’s police and protected by the country’s extensive freedom of speech laws, kicked and destroyed the holy Islamic text as well as stomped on an Iraqi flag outside the Iraqi Embassy. In response, supporters of Iraqi Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr stormed and set fire to the Swedish Embassy in Iraq and urged Baghdad to cut ties with Stockholm entirely. No staff members were injured. The Iraqi government has since condemned the facility’s partial burning, but Iraqi officials expelled the Swedish ambassador, recalled its chargé d’affaires in Sweden, and suspended Swedish telecommunications company Ericsson’s working permit “in response to the repeated permission of the Swedish government to burn the Holy Quran, insult Islamic sanctities, and burn the Iraqi flag,” Prime Minister Mohammed Shia al-Sudani tweeted.

As water shortages intensify Iran’s heat wave, authorities shift blame (Washington Post) Taps are running dry across Iran. On Sunday, a record-breaking confluence of heat and humidity translated to an off-the-charts heat index value of more than 150 degrees, at the very limits of human survival, measured at Iran’s Persian Gulf International Airport. Earlier this month, more than 1,000 people sought medical treatment after dust storms ravaged the country’s water-starved southeast. From Tehran to rural regions, people are posting videos to social media complaining of days on end in the heat without running water, their faucets emitting nothing but murky drops. The water shortages, which experts say are driven in large part by decades of mismanagement, are a long-standing problem. But they have grown more severe as climate change accelerates—and are an increasing driver of discontent, sparking protests and confrontations in recent years. In public messaging, Iran’s leaders have sought to deflect blame to the Taliban, which rules in neighboring Afghanistan, for restricting water flow in the Helmand River. Officials have also blamed floods and fallen rocks, for disrupting the operation of dams around Tehran, and ordinary citizens, for their consumption of water and electricity. But those explanations have left many unsatisfied, and still thirsty.

They fled Syria’s shattering civil war. Now, Syrian refugees in Jordan fear being forced to return (AP) As Jordan hosted regional talks this spring aimed at ending Syria’s isolation after more than a decade of civil war, Syrian refugee Suzanne Dabdoob felt a deep pressure in her brain and in her ears, she said, a fear she hadn’t felt since arriving to Jordan 10 years ago. Ahead of the meeting, Syrian President Bashar Assad agreed that 1,000 Syrian refugees living in Jordan would be allowed to safely return home—a test case for the repatriation of far greater numbers. Jordan’s top diplomat spoke only of voluntary returns. But panic spread through working-class east Amman, where Dabdoob and many other Syrians have built new lives in multistory, cement-block buildings. “I would rather die right here than go back to Syria,” said Dabdoob, 37, whose home was razed by airstrikes in the Syrian city of Homs. As Middle East countries strained by vast numbers of refugees restore relations with Assad, many Syrians who fled are now terrified by the prospect of returning to a country shattered by war and controlled by the same authoritarian leader who brutally crushed the 2011 rebellion. Even as public hostility and economic misery in neighboring countries has squeezed Syrian refugees, few are clamoring to return.

Escalating violence in Congo (AP) The United Nations warned that violence in northeastern Congo has escalated significantly, with more than 40 civilians killed in three days. More than 600 people have been killed and 345,000 displaced in Ituri province so far this year, according to Stephane Dujarric, a United Nation’s spokesman. Conflict has simmered in eastern Congo for decades as more than 120 armed groups fight for control of valuable mineral resources and some to protect their communities. Mass killings by rebel groups are frequent, and the violence has triggered an exodus of refugees. The statement comes on the heels of two attacks in the country’s northeast that left nearly two dozen people dead. Such attacks often uproot entire communities, and many residents flee to nearby displacement sites which are ill-equipped to receive them, compounding an already dire situation. The United Nation’s response plan for Congo is only 30% funded.

A Hare-Raising Tail (AP) It appears that the rabbits down in Florida are breeding like … well, rabbits. In Wilton Manors, a suburb of Fort Lauderdale, almost 100 lionhead rabbits are rampaging through the town, tearing up lawns. The bounty of bunnies was brought by a backyard breeder, who illegally released them when she moved away from the area two years ago. The lionhead rabbits aren’t the only invasive species plaguing Florida these days. Giant African snails can eat stucco off of houses while also acting as human disease vectors, while Burmese pythons have taken over the state’s swamps, preying on local birds and even deer. Off the state’s coast, lionfish are also on the prowl, devouring native fish species in the state’s reefs. All of these animals, like the rabbits, were once pets but began taking over local ecosystems after their owners released them.

#headlines #news

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damn-stark · 3 years

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Branded

Chapter 14 of Different light

A/N- This series will only get more exciting!!! I can’t wait!!

Warning- Angst, violence, talks of death and self harm, SLOWBURN.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“You know what you have to do,” his voice hissed in your ear.

It was now a memory, but it was so persistent that you swear he’s repeatedly saying the plan in your ear. It made the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stand up, it made your fear heighten and made you jumpy and unaware of your surroundings.

Yet that memory wasn’t as bothersome as the dark mark on your arm.

Or maybe that’s what kept the memory of the plan so fresh in your mind, because everytime you looked at the black outline, it was a painful reminder of the burden you now carried on your shoulders. Everyday after you got it marked on your arm was a reminder of the burden you now carried, a burden you couldn’t keep Draco away from. As much as you fought, he fell into the dark pit with you.

Yet there was one positive side to all the chaos. Draco and you were closer than ever before. It seemed that you were both inseparable now. He was kinder to you, he had dropped whatever petty, foolish anger he had for you and he no longer poked fun at you, nor did he annoy you, just like you didn’t annoy him either.

Perhaps it was because of how he had found out about your Dark Mark...that too was something you couldn’t forget—Draco had barged into your room after returning from school, he didn’t knock, nor give any warning he was coming. He just barged into the room most likely to demand an answer on why you never returned, or simply just to bother you about what had unfolded, that he was going to snitch. It doesn’t really matter why, all that mattered was he barged in. And when he did, he found you in the corner of your room, basked in darkness violently trying to scratch the Dark Mark off your arm, sobbing and bleeding on the floor.

Draco had stayed stunned in front of you, lost on what to do, he called at you to stop, but you only cried out harder and tried harder to remove that brand off. Draco tried, but he couldn’t bring himself to move, he was too stunned to this unknown part of you. So instead he ran to get Narcissa and watched her calm you down from behind her.

You never meant for him to see you, you wanted to keep a strong facade for him, but he caught you off guard. So maybe it was pity that made him change his attitude towards you. That or shared trauma now since you both shared the same burden.

Whatever it was, you were happy that you weren’t completely alone.

“So how did it go? Can he fix it?” You asked Draco promptly as you saw him walk out of the shop, Borgin and Burkes and join your side.

Draco scoffed and he shot a last glare at the shop. “The stupid old man is useless he can’t fix it without seeing it. How did you escape mother?”

You both stop a few feet away from the shop briefly to discuss what couldn’t be shared with Narcissa before you met up with her again. “It wasn’t easy, but I managed to get her off our back. So what are we going to do now? It’s not like we can move the damn thing. It’s enormous.”

A sly smirk curled onto Draco’s thin lips and he confidently revealed what didn’t surprise you. “I threw my fist down and threatened the old idiot, he was basically shaking out of fear, he’ll be cooperative and try something for a change.”

No matter how close you were, how much different he was, there were some parts of him that remained the same. It was the worst parts too. You wanted to scold him on his spiteful behavior, but as you parted your lips to argue, a bang close by the shop caught your attention. Both Draco and you looked to your side to identify what it had been, but when you looked there was nothing, the street was empty.

You kept your eyes searching the area for a moment longer while you dropped the subject and began to urge him away. “Let’s go.”

Draco didn’t hesitate to do as you said, leading the way out of Knockturn Alley and joining the main alley where nothing but the new big, bright shop of the Weasley Twins stuck out like a sore thumb even from several feet away. And how could it not with most shops closed because of what was happening in the Wizarding world. People disappearing out of the blue.

The news of the Dark Lord returning made everyone finally cautious and believe what had been repeatedly denied. Even if you were part of his cult, Narcissa was evermore so cautious and protective too, it seemed she was even careful around her own sister, she clung unto Draco and you, it was a surprise she even let Draco and you out of her sight.

But because she was out of sight for now, it left you with the perfect chance to wander off on your own.

“Draco, I’m going to see if I can find something to get rid of this scar,” you speak up as you come to a stop a few feet away from the joke shop. “Let’s meet up in the middle of Diagon Alley in fifteen.”

Your brother stops in his tracks and turns to meet your gaze, he puts his hands in his pockets and looks at you with a raised brow. “Alone?”

“Yes,” you nod, “I’m sure you have things left to get.”

“I suppose.” He squints his eyes and tries to see if there were cracks through your facade. But he found none. “Fine.” With one last look he turns and walks down the cobblestone street, turning a corner and disappearing to another street. Letting you put your hood on and slowly turn on your heels to walk towards the joke shop. Feeling as if with every step you took forward they became heavier, and your heart thumped faster. The need to turn around and just reunite with Draco was tempting, but you knew if you didn’t see your friends dreams come true you'd regret it.

So just as you reached the top of the small flight of stairs, you drew in a deep breath and slowly breathed it out as you stretched your hand out and pushed the door open. In that exact moment that you pushed the doors open, getting welcomed by the bright shop packed with many young people. As you stepped in, everywhere you looked there was something to see, different items that caught your eye and nothing left bland. There were things to use for pranks, and items for jokes, the whole shop just screamed out fun and joy. Everything was as expected for you, everything was what they talked about and you couldn’t help but let happiness fill your heart. You were proud of their achievement.

“Y/N?”

At the sound of your name, you freeze and lift your eyes from the shelf of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, to look at a purple wall and hesitate to look to the side to identify who it had been who called your name. Albeit they of course walked to your side to speak to you before you could run away.

“I’m surprised to see you here.”

You slowly twist your head to land your eyes on a familiar, cute brunette. “Harry.” You smile faintly, lifting your hand to pull your hood forward and try to cover the scar on your cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

His blue eyes stay on you and search your face and study your figure until he once again persists in talking to you when all you wanted was to go undetected. “It’s good to see you’re okay, you had me worried when I didn’t see you return to school.”

“Oh,” you drop your smile and feel your body tense. “Yeah, well, I got in trouble for being in the Ministry of Magic. I’m returning to school though and well it’s not like I missed much, I passed every class.”

“It’s still a bummer though.”

While on the subject of previous events, the memory of the loss he endured came to mind….not like it ever left, you would see Sirius Black’s death in your dreams many times. You couldn’t imagine what Harry was going through. You can’t even comprehend why he even approached you just now. He should be furious.

“About that day,” you mutter with an audible crack in your voice. “I’m sorry about what happened Harry...I’m sorry for your loss.”

Said boy's demeanor faltered and his eyes flickered away, but he only showed a faint sign of grief before he met your gaze and replied kindly. “Thank you.” A moment of silence passed and that’s when he caught a glimpse of your scar. “What happened to your cheek? Did you get hurt that day?”

He tries to approach you, but you quickly step back and cover the thing with your hand. “No.” You try to assure him with a lie. “Not that day...it was a spell gone bad. Nothing...to worry about,” you finish with an assuring smile.

His eyebrows furrow and he tries to keep his eyes on you, but you avert your gaze and try to just escape before he could see your lie. “Well I should—”

“I think it’s cool,” he blurts, causing you to snap your gaze back to him and feel your breathing hitch. “It suits you, you shouldn’t hide it.”

“I…” you pause and feel your face burn, and your eyes soften, you try to hold back your genuine smile, but you couldn’t help but show it proudly. “Thank you, Harry.” You share a lingering gaze and you notice his eyes drop to your lips, but just before you could do the same you remember where you are and the time limit you had. “I should go find Draco, he should be looking for me.” You move to walk past him, and as you make it past him, he points out something that makes you stiffen.

“I saw him in Knockturn Alley, you should look there.”

You swallow thickly, but turn to show him an unfazed sweet smile. “Thank you, I’ll see you at school.”

Harry waves at you and keeps his eyes on you until you successfully leave the store without catching the twins attention, and shamefully leaving without what you wanted to get.

Yet it wasn’t a bad trip, no matter what happened before, or the time went without being able to talk to him, Harry still made butterflies flutter in your stomach. After all this time.

——

“So what did you do this summer, Pansy?” You question the brunette in the compartment seat across from you, averting your gaze from the way she was stroking your brother's hair in her lap, and pushing aside the fact that you had found her annoying and rude many times before, because now none of it really mattered.

“I went to my vacation house in Italy,” Pansy revealed proudly, “I of course invited your brother to come, but he never answered my letter.”

“I was busy doing better things,” Draco said, hiding the fact that he wanted to gloat.

You rest your chin on your hand and sigh as you look at the sun beginning to hide behind the green passing valleys outside the compartment window. “A vacation sounds nice, I wish I could've gone to that one Island in the Atlantic. Going there still sounds tempting, I might just drop out and escape there.”

A smile spreads on Pansy’s lips, but Draco does the opposite and frowns, kicking your leg with his foot and seething out, “that’d be idiotic.”

You roll your eyes and hiss out, “it’s better than doing this.” Of course by “this” you meant what was connected to the brand on your arm. Who you had to work for.

“Blaise about time,” Draco said as the Zabini siblings returned from their private dinner with a new Professor named Slughorn. “What did Slughorn want?”

Clementine slides on the empty seat next to you and offers you a quick warm smile—No matter what you tried to do to keep her away this summer, or tried to do to avoid her today, she was stubborn about sticking by your side. She alongside her brother were there at your house the day after they returned from school, (albeit Blaise was probably forced to be there), nonetheless she didn’t let you isolate yourself and even if she didn’t know what you were forced to be, forced to do exactly, she was one of the few people that kept you yourself. Not a death eater, but yourself.

“Just wanted to make up to well-connected people,” Blaise answered as he sat across Draco and next to his sister. “Not that he managed to find many.”

Draco scoffs and throws himself off Pansy’s lap to demand a more clear answer. “Who else was invited?”

“McLaggen from Gryffindor,” Clementine chimed in.

“He only got invited because of his uncle's popularity in the Ministry.” Blaise continued for her. “Then someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw.”

“Not him,” Pansy exclaimed, “he’s a prat!”

You slid your elbow off the table and fully focused on the conversation, whilst also noticing the judgmental little stare Clementine and Blaise shared over Pansy, before Clementine continued to share names. “Regardless, Longbottom, Harry Potter, and that Weasley girl were also there.”

Draco's eyes widened and a scorching fire fueled by jealousy filled his eyes and seeped through his tone. “Longbottom?! What’s he got that's so interesting?”

The Zabini siblings shrug and Draco continues to seeth out his venom. “And of course, Potter, precious Potter. Obviously he wanted to look at the Chosen one. But that Weasley girl! What’s so special about her!”

“Careful Draco, anymore spiteful comments and I might think you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous! As if!” Draco scoffs dramatically and throws Blaise and you a glare as you both snicker at his overly dramatic reaction—“Well I pity Slughorn's taste,” Draco quickly changes his tone to a much more overconfident one whilst he lays back on Pansy’s lap. “Maybe he’s got a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn, probably hasn’t heard my sister and I are on the train or—”

“I wouldn’t bank on an invitation,” Blaise interjected, “Slughorn asked us about Notts father when my sister and I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn't look happy, and Nott wasn’t invited was he? I don’t think Slughorn’s got interest in Death Eaters.”

Draco and you share a quick panicked look, whilst Clementine smacks her brother's arm to scold him for such a true, yet daring comment. He of course pays no mind to it and just rubs his arm while Draco looks angry, but passes it off with a humorless laugh. You on the other hand just shift in your seat awkwardly, but don’t give any other reaction to it. You just let it fly over your head. Unlike your brother. “Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher. I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year. What a pathetic excuse for a school, I think I'll pitch myself off the astronomy tower before I have to continue for another two years.”

“Don’t say things like that, Draco,” you seeth.

“It’s true.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy demanded just as concerned.

“Let’s just say I don’t think you’ll see me wasting my time in charms class next year.”

Blaise snickers at Draco’s comment, making Draco pull his gaze from whatever he was looking at on top of his head to look at his friend and remark. “Amused Blaise? Let’s just see who’s laughing in the end.”

You look away from Draco and look down at your rings around your fingers and sigh. “I see Hogwarts, we better get our robes on.”

The Zabini siblings at your side slide off the seat to get their robes on and let you out to do the same. You walk to the rack above and reach for your small luggage, swinging it down and in that exact moment seeming to hear some type of gasp come from above. You look over your head, and from the corner of your eye you see Draco beside you seeming to look for the same source of sound. Yet, before you could investigate more, Clementine pulls your attention away. “Oh, I love your outfit, where’d you get it?”

You smile and glance at your clothes, “a shop in Paris. I’ll try to remember exactly where and I’ll tell you.”

“You better.” She finishes as she, like you and everyone else, pull on your green robes, waiting as the train comes to a shaky stop to wait for others to file out of the corridors to do so yourselves. Stopping at the door however, to look back at Draco lagging behind.

“You four go on,” Draco told you four by the door, “I just want to check on something.”

“Uh,” you hesitate for a moment, “okay.” Nonetheless you follow Clementine, Blaise and Pansy outside. You had the intention to wait for Draco, but nevertheless you were dragged to the carriage and returned to school. Where at least the atmosphere, the buildings, the halls, something as small and as insignificant as a decoration felt in many ways assuring. Seeing all of it made you happy to return to school. Unlike how home felt now….school was bright and an enjoyable place to be in. It was a chance to escape being home, you couldn’t avoid responsibility being here, but you avoided seeing the evil that you had to work for now.

The one thing that prevented this place to be a truly comforting place was seeing Professor Dumbledore. At the sight of him sitting down at the end of the hall, your heart dropped to your stomach, your breathing hitched and everything happening around you seemed to move at a slow pace; that’s where the loud commotion that was happening around the room seemed to tune out and drift to the back of your head, letting the cold words of Voldemort, echo loudly. “You know what you have to do.”

Chills spread all over your body and your chest tightened. Just as you could began to feel guilt deep through your mind, you snap yourself from your stupor and walk to sit around your house table, spotting Draco finally walk in alone and sit in between his friends, glancing towards Dumbledore just like you had and visabally seeming to mentally drift himself away from this room. Not like you were any different. Seeing Dumbledore reminded you what position you were in, it reminded you that you, like Draco, were in the dark pit surrounded by venomous snakes. No way out, no hope for—

Suddenly, before you could finish your thought, the sight of Harry walking into the hall incredibly late catches your eye. You sit up straight, but frown as you notice that he was bleeding from his nose. You have the itch to ask if he was okay, but you keep yourself glued to your seat and stay with the concern. Not like you had the time to ask him anything because Professor Dumbledore didn’t wait a moment longer to finally address the hall filled with students.

“Very best of evening to you all. First off let me introduce the newest member of our staff, Horace Slughorn,” the professor points to him as the new professor stands up and receives a big round of applause. “Slughorn, I'm happy to say, has agreed to resume his old post as potions master. Meanwhile the post Defense against the Dark Arts will be taken by Professor Snape.” Another round of applause erupts around the room, whilst you, like before, stay silent and just listen. But that got hard as the topic was changed to the master you served…

——

“...You know what you have to do…”

Your eyes snap away from the grey sky outside to focus on the tall man in all black in front of you.

“No one must know who you both work for, the brands on your arm must always remain hidden.” Professor Snape reminds Draco and you. “No matter how much either of you think you can trust your friends, you can’t tell them anything of what your plan is, or what you do outside of school. Everything stays between us. And if either of you need help—”

“No,” Draco cuts him in an agitated tone. “We don’t need your help because that task alone is meant for my sister and I. No matter what promises you seemed to make to our mother, we will find a way to do it all alone. We aren’t children.”

“Perhaps not.” Snape snapped back just as coldly, “but need I remind you this is not some school project Draco. This is a task for the Dark Lord, and if you get this wrong your entire family, including your sister and you will pay for it. Now is not the time to poison yourself with your pride. Accept the help you get offered. Because even your father knows how to play well with others.”

“I know that.” Draco hissed. “We are getting help. We just don’t need your help.” Draco shoots Snape a cold glare before sharply turning on his heels and storming out of Snape's office. Leaving you to clean up his mess.

“Thank you, Professor. We appreciate the advice, and I’ll try to make him come around.” You turn to leave, and as your hand is on the door handle, Snape throws out one last comment.

“How about you remind your brother what manners are as well. Seems with all the stress he’s gone under, he’s forgotten what those are.”

You respond with a stiff nod before walking out of the office and meeting Draco at the end of the dark hall. “Draco, you need to be kinder, he’s just trying to help.”

Said boy scoffs and shakes his head. “We don’t need his help. The task was given to us alone. Not us and Snape.”

“I know but—”

“But nothing,” Draco interjects, “we can’t afford messing this up. Not after father got sent to prison.”

You sigh and drop your gaze to the stone floor as you begin walking out of the corridor. “Right.”

“We’re going to make father proud.”

You blink to look ahead as you turn to another hall. You don’t answer Draco, but he didn’t need a confirmation to know you thought the same. Not like he'd hear any of it at the moment. His mind was solely focused on the door that could, or could not appear on the big empty wall ahead of you.

You passed by some birds chirping inside their cage, and stopped in front of the empty wall to wait. At first you thought the door you needed wouldn’t open, but you got proven wrong as the outline began to appear exactly as it did last year. Only this time the door led to another room. One packed with hundreds of lost, stored and hidden things that were packed away in tall towers scattered around the room, while the bigger items were more isolated around the room. The further you walked in, the more you saw inside the room of requirement. It was truly fascinating.

It was all breathtaking, except for the one item you came here to find. The one item that was the key to setting your plan in motion.

You stop before it, lifting your gaze to study it, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise, and goosebumps to grow on your arms. Nevertheless You stretch your hand out to feel the wood under your fingers, to just let yourself know that this was all real and not a nightmare. You turn to look at Draco, seeing him throw and catch a green apple in his hand, whilst he stops beside you and drifts his eyes away from the cabinet to meet your gaze, showing a serious expression that you could tell was laced with fear he was trying hard to hide.

“We’re going to fix it,” you say in the best assuring voice you could manage. “We’re going to fix this vanishing cabinet to complete our mission. I promise. We’re going to make mother and father proud.”

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs, @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine , @kokomaesadie @april-14-blog , @prettypinkpeachh , @pest-ill-ence , @ilovespideyyy , @m3ssytrash , @hogwarts-babe-blog , @yodaboo , @rafeyybabyy , @ms-dont-care , @seninjakitey , @aqua0928

#Harry Potter #different light #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x malfoy!reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #Harry Potter and the half-blood prince #harry potter x slytherin!reader #Draco Malfoy #narcissa malfoy #professor snape #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #fanfiction

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anonymousgeekhere · 3 years

Note

Tell me about your ocs I wanna hear all about em

Awww ok! 🥰 They‘re from a novel I’m writing.

1. Amy Castellanos

Demigod child of Apollo, female, 16, INFP, half Peruvian. She has the ability to control sunlight. Sassy as hell, quick to anger but has a big heart, impulsive, strong moral compass. She physically takes more after her mother: 5’0”, same curly hair as Apollo but dark brown, dark brown eyes, tan skin, small flat figure. Outside of trying to be a superhero, she loves coding and dancing.

2. Seraphina Castellanos

Mother of Amy and lover of Apollo, female, deceased before the book starts, ISFJ, Peruvian. Shy and sweet, majoring in art, people think this means she’s fragile but she’s anything but as she can prove to be very strong and brave when the situation calls for it. 5’4”, slight wave dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, tan skin, plump figure. Loves art and reading and cooking.

3. Aiwin Fenton

Not much I can say about who he is without spoiling... he’s male, 17, Japanese. Cold, clever, the voice of reason. 6’2”, straight black hair, amber eyes, fair skin, toned figure. Boy is a science nerd and likes cooking but no one knows.

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

The Sky’s Tsunami - Chapter 13

3rd Person POV

A few hours later, the Bus lands at the Slingshot. By this point, Natasha was back to her normal self, teasing (Y/n).

The two sisters walk down the spiral staircase, Natasha walking over, sitting at the end of hangar doors her back leaning against one of the walls.

"Hey Coulson, how's LOLA?" (Y/n) asks.

"Not a scratch," Coulson answers.

"How she should be," (Y/n) says with a smile.

Skye descends the spiral staircase and walks up behind (Y/n) and Coulson.

"Not a scratch," Skye says, making (Y/n) jump a little. Skye smiles apologetically before continuing. "But you're plane's totaled. I hope SHIELD insurance covers hijackings."

"Of course, under accidentals," (Y/n) says with a grin.

Skye chuckles lightly, crossing her arms. "What exactly am I signing up for?"

(Y/n) laughs, her (E/c) eyes sparkling and Natasha looks back, smiling at her sister.

"So far, the craziest show on Earth," (Y/n) says.

"Yeah, well, I didn't think it'd get this crazy, this fast," Skye reasons, "all for an object you're just gonna destroy."

"Slingshot is protocol," Coulson tells Skye.

"A weapon like the 0-8-4 is too dangerous for any person or country to have," (Y/n) continues. "People like Reyes would always be after it."

"What happened with Reyes, anyway?" Skye asks and (Y/n) raises a ginger eyebrow.

"She's being held at a SHIELD detainment facility," Coulson tells Skye. "I expect the Peruvian government will negotiate for her release. She probably won't spend much time in jail."

"No, I mean what happened with you and Reyes?" Skye asks. "You totally did it back in the day, right?"

(Y/n) chokes back a laugh as Coulson replies, "That's classified."

Skye laughs as Coulson walks away.

"We blew up a plane," Fitz says as he walks down the stairs with a cooler of beer. He holds out the cooler and (Y/n) takes a beer out and goes to sit beside Natasha. (Y/n) hands the beer to her sister and Natasha takes it with a smile.

"Hey, come on," Fitz says, sitting down in the middle of the doors, Simmons taking up a place beside him. "So, it'll take about a hundred and eighty days to reach the Sun. Of course, if they'd used hydrogen-fueled APUs, but they're having fun."

"How man of those have you guys had?" Skye asks as Ward and May sit down on either side of FitzSimmons, taking a beer from the cooler.

Simmons laughs, "Skye, it's important when in the field to unwind from time to time."

"Yeah, yeah, especially after a hard day of everyone almost dying," Fitz pipes up.

"Which doesn't happen every day, right?" Simmons asks and the Romanoff sisters exchange looks. "It''s an anomaly - an irregularity."

(Y/n) and May meet gazes and May smirks at the former assassin.

"Not . . . the norm," Simmons says.

"Speaking of 'not the norm,' whose idea was it to blow a hole in the plane?" Coulson says and (Y/n) glances around before speaking.

"I said that the door -" (Y/n) begins, but Skye interupts her.

"May and (Y/n) said that the doors were tied to the pressurization, so I thought -"

"So we," Simmons emphasizes the word we, "thought it was the only way to release them."

"It was everyone's idea, sir," Ward says and May nods.

"Yes," Fitz adds. "Quite genius, really."

"Nice work," Coulson says and (Y/n)'s eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Fury's not gonna like this," (Y/n) says and Natasha nods. "I can't believe it took us six days to blow a hole in the side of this plane."

"Oh, time for blastoff," Fitz says and everyone looks at the rocket. Fitz pinches his nose, "Launching . . . In three . . . Two . . . One."

The rocket blasts off and (Y/n) leans into her sister and Natasha nudges her affectionately in return.

"The trajectory will take it beyond the Lagrange point so that it doesn't hit Herschel."

"And there haven't been any coronal mass injections, so it shouldn't lose telemetry."

"Guys," Ward tells FitzSimmons. "English."

"Really, Rushman? Really, Coulson?" Fury asks Coulson, (Y/n) standing to the left of the agent. "Six days? It only took you six days to take a completely renovated piece of state-of-the-art machinery and turn it into scrap?!"

"Our team acted with our authority," Coulson says and (Y/n) nods in agreement.

"Don't talk to me about authority," Fury says softly, his voice seething with anger. "Do you know how much this plane cost? It's got a bar." Fury walks over to the said bar, placing his hands on it. "A really nice one. You talking to me about authority. You know, I have the authority to downgrade your asses to a Winnebago."

"We're aware of that, sir," (Y/n) says, meeting Fury's gaze steadily with her own.

"Well, I want it fixed just like you found it," Fury says. "So don't have FitzSimmons going making modifications, like, like a damn fish tank." He turns to (Y/n) now. "Send your sister to me. I know she's here."

(Y/n) nods and jogs downstairs where she finds Natasha and Skye talking.

"Tasha?" (Y/n) says as she steps off the final step.

Natasha looks over and hums in response.

"Big Boss Man wants to see you," (Y/n) says and Natasha nods. She says good-bye to Skye and retreats upstairs. "Oh, FitzSimmons!" (Y/n) says and both scientists stick their heads out the lab doors. "We're gonna have to kill the fish tank."

Fitz pouts and Simmons nods dejectedly.

Word Count: 943 words

Taglist:

@rail-me-romanoff

@theofficialzivadavid

#Skye #skye x fem reader #skye x romanoff reader #skye x reader #Daisy Johnson #daisy johnson x fem reader #daisy johnson x romanoff reader #natasha romanoff x sister reader #honorary dad phil coulson #dad coulson x romanoff reader #mom melinda may x romanoff reader

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disneyat34 · 4 years

Text

Saludos Amigos at 34

A review by Adam D. Jaspering

In 1941, World War II was raging. A number of Latin American countries were beginning to sympathize with the Axis Powers. The Roosevelt administration did not want fascist ideology creeping into the western hemisphere. The State Department needed an ambassador to steer South America towards US interests. They needed Walt Disney.

Walt Disney Animation Studios was in a precarious situation in 1941. For starters, Disney Studios made an irreversible pivot towards feature filmmaking. After the success of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the company expanded. The Hyperion Disney Studio had been abandoned for the larger, more lavish, and pricier Burbank Studio. It was a great cost, but one Disney hoped to offset with his next few pictures.

Disney expected up to 75% of his gross revenue to be earned internationally. Because of the war, the European film market had dried up. As a direct result, Pinocchio and Fantasia were financial losses. Disney had spent too much money and was not earning it back.

These financial struggles culminated in the most infamous labor dispute in the company’s history. Layoffs were imminent, and Disney could only promise security to a small fraction of his 1200 employees. This was the tipping point for the Disney Studio staff.

While Disney proved his mettle as a cartoonist and filmmaker, his business savvy was underdeveloped. Disney was running his big company like a little company, not delegating tasks or departmentalizing. There were wild discrepancies in employee pay and benefits. Animators earned anywhere from $12-$300 a week for the same output of work. Disney, unsympathetic to his employee’s complaints, refused to amend his practices. The ensuing Disney Animator’s Strike lasted from May 29 to September 14th, 1941.

As a result of downsizing and retaliatory firings, Disney Studios exited the strike with only 694 employees. A majority of them, rather incensed by the ordeal. Disney needed three things to keep his company afloat. First, enough money to keep production financially stable. Second, a new market to sell his films until Europe became viable again. Third, he needed to recuse himself from duty until animosity subsided. The US Department of State could provide all three.

The deal was simple. Disney would embark on a 10-week goodwill tour to South America, financed by the United States Government. He would visit Argentina, Brazil, Chile, and Peru. Disney would convince the populace, media, and politicians that The United States was an ally worth keeping. For his cooperation, Disney was given federal loan guarantees, staving off bankruptcy.

Disney brought sixteen faithful employees along on the journey. They were a combination of animators, writers, and composers. They were tasked with soaking up the culture, atmosphere, and influence. Disney Studios would use these inspirations to create two films especially for Latin American audiences: Saludos Amigos (1942) and The Three Caballeros (1944).

Saludos Amigos is comprised of four independent segments, each one centered on a different area of South America: The Peruvian highlands, the Chilean Andes, the Argentinian Pampas, and Rio de Janeiro. Between these segments is video footage of Disney and his crew touring the continent. Perhaps to bookend the segments. Perhaps to ground the cartoons in a sense of reality. Perhaps to pad the runtime; Saludos Amigos is only 42 minutes long!

The first segment is titled Lake Titicaca, taking place at the namesake body of water, resting on the Peruvian and Bolivian border. The short features Donald Duck on vacation.

Donald Duck is one of the most popular characters in the Disney pantheon, and this is his feature film debut. He is appearing in a short within a movie, but it still counts as a feature film debut. Donald is a very static character. You know exactly who he is, what he is capable of, and what sort of situations he will find himself in. Some misfortune will befall him, he’ll overreact, and his anger will exacerbate the situation.

How he behaves in Lake Titicaca is exactly how he behaves in every short. Donald plays a tourist vacationing in Peru. He gets altitude sickness. He upsets a llama. His boat sinks and he’s plunged into the lake. The rope bridge he’s walking across falls apart, sending him careening down a gorge. It’s funny, the slapstick is well done, and it is paced well. It is a very typical Donald Duck cartoon.

It is so representative of Donald Duck, it could easily serve as a stand-alone short. It didn’t need to be part of a movie at all. There’s no massive increase in artistic style. No daring adventure in animation techniques. No groundbreaking backgrounds or design. Disney raised the bar for five consecutive films. Now he was lowering it.

In fairness, the artists did depict the Peruvian environment in a vivid manner. It’s a travel advertisement that doesn’t feel like one. The native craftwork, clothing, and culture are on full display, just as intended.

For the first half of the short, anyway. Partway, the focus drifts away from Donald Duck visiting Peru to Donald Duck’s wacky hijinks with a llama. In short, Lake Titicaca does a decent job of portraying Peru. However, the focus is on Donald Duck first. Peru is simply the backdrop.

The second featurette is Pedro. Pedro is a personified airplane, the baby in a family of personified airplanes. Pedro’s father’s job is carrying the mail between Chile and Argentina. Every day, he flies over the treacherous Andes. One day, Pedro must fill-in for his father. It’s a parable about growing up and accepting responsibility.

The task and the journey is formidable. It’s made all the more complicated by Aconcagua, the tallest mountain in South America. More than an obstacle, Aconcagua is also personified. He is an angry and territorial mountain, with the ability to control the weather. Whenever planes bother him, he creates storms. It makes little sense. Personified airplanes also make little sense. Clearly, we can accept a large quantity of silliness.

Much like Lake Titicaca, Pedro is enjoyable, but offers little in terms of cinematic grandeur. It’s easy to understand why. Disney and his group returned from South America in October, 1941. Saludos Amigos debuted in August, 1942. Cinematic grandeur was not the goal. A finished product was the goal.

Throughout the rest of the 1940s, Disney would be releasing a series of package films. Shorts, cobbled together without much rhyme or reason, released as a feature. The combination of Disney’s financial woes and reduced staff forced him to dial his filmic aspirations back. For the foreseeable future, his productions needed to be fast, cheap, and accessible. Saludos Amigos was the forefather of these films.

While the cartoon is underwhelming, it’s not necessarily bad. The major problem is, Pedro offers a very poor representation of Chile. Lake Titicaca offered Peru and its environments as a backdrop. Pedro seems determined to ignore its setting. If young Pedro was carrying mail from Denver to Sacramento, and a personified Pike’s Peak was giving him grief, very little would be changed. There is no Chile in this cartoon dedicated to Chile.

Chileans themselves were well aware of this slight. Chilean cartoonist René Ríos “Pepo” Boettiger was especially frustrated. After seeing Saludos Amigos, Pepo created a truly Chilean cartoon character. Condorito, an animated condor, debuted in 1949. Beginning as a simple comic strip, Condorito has been syndicated internationally, featured in his own comic books, been adapted to TV, film, and a webseries. He remains popular in Chile and throughout Latin America. It’s easy to get inspired by art you like. You can also be inspired by art you don’t like.

Next in the program is El Gaucho Goofy. Here, Disney staple Goofy makes his feature film debut. By 1941, Goofy’s schtick was drifting away from narrative-driven comic shorts and towards a parody of instructional videos. Already, he had “instructed” on baseball, skiing, swimming, fishing, and martial arts. These themed shorts would continue all the way to the 1960s.

El Gaucho Goofy aims to teach the differences between an American cowboy and a South American gaucho. Both have the same job, tending to cattle on the open prairie. The short highlights the regional and cultural differences.

A defining aspect of these satirical Goofy shorts, Goofy is at constant odds with an omniscient narrator. Goofy either tries and fails to follow the provided instructions, or follows the instructions too closely, resulting in disaster. The slapstick is one mere aspect of the humor. The remainder is a dissonance between what the narrator deadpans, and what Goofy actually delivers.

El Gaucho Goofy is funny in its own right. What’s more, Goofy is truly representing the life of a gaucho on the Argentinian Pampas. The short is basic, but entertaining, informative and detailed. Another strike against Pedro, outclassed in dignity and competency by Goofy.

The final segment of the film is Aquarela do Brasil (Watercolor of Brazil). Here, Donald Duck is employed once again. Not simply a sightseer in a foreign land, Donald is paired with Jose Carioca, a parrot and enthusiastic Brazilian patriot. Donald’s fiery temper and bad luck are sidelined for a whirlwind travelogue of Rio de Janeiro.

At the time of filming, Rio was the third most populous city in the western hemisphere (it’s currently fifth). It was the clear intention of the filmmakers to highlight the urban metropolis in all its modern glory. A deliberate rebranding of South America as not just farmers and rural villages. South America also houses centers of industry, culture and commerce, on par with New York.

But when featuring Brazil, one has an obligation to depict the country as a whole. The urban splendor must be paired with the natural beauty. The Amazon river basin and the Pantanal are magnificent natural wonders. Their unique ecosystems and indigenous life contribute to Brazil’s evolution as an empire. Even miles outside the city, there are sights to behold.

The Disney animators depict the natural landscapes well. They create a beautiful watercolor wonderland. A disembodied paintbrush swoops in from offscreen, creating the world in real time. We are given a contrast of deep greens, vivid fluorescents, and rich pastels. It’s very post-impressionistic in style and saturation.

When the short introduces Jose, it shifts into an exploration of Rio de Janeiro’s cityscape. Jose shows off trademark Brazilian interests, including nightclubs and a cachaça bar. Here, Donald partakes of his first glass of cachaça (a Brazilian spirit distilled from sugarcane, quite similar to rum).

Saludos Amigos, not fully intended for children, has no shame depicting Donald Duck drinking hard liquor. For what it’s worth, he doesn’t seem to enjoy it. Not that the drink tastes bad, Donald can’t stomach alcohol at all. It’s a strange thing to both feature alcohol as a cultural highlight to be respected, but also outwardly discouraging the beverage to a percentage of the viewing audience. Such is the problem of using a children’s cartoon character as a cultural ambassador.

The character of Jose Carioca has a lot of personality. Even more when compared to an oddly subdued Donald, serving as an everyman and American analog. Jose is a passionate, excitable motormouth who launches into long monologues in his native Portuguese. He is often oblivious to Donald not understanding. He has much love for his native Brazil, and is quick to share it with everyone. He especially loves music and dance.

So much so, the movie has no choice but to end on a samba number. Like Fantasia before it, Saludos Amigos has no coda, no outro, and no farewell. Just a title card reading “The End.” Combined with its 42-minute runtime, I can imagine many audience members sitting confused in the theater, waiting for the movie to continue.

Saludos Amigos was never intended to be a masterpiece. It was a piece of propaganda and a tax write-off cobbled together in less than nine months. There are individual elements of the movie to be enjoyed, but nothing especially noteworthy. Had it been made by any studio besides Disney, it would be relegated to obscurity. Not that Saludos Amigos is a celebrated entry in the Disney canon.

The story behind the film’s production is more interesting than the movie itself. Walt & El Grupo, a 2008 documentary, fully detailed Disney and his South American tour. It’s clear that The Walt Disney Company, owner of the archival footage and distributor of the final work, had creative control. Details of Disney’s interoffice troubles and financial debts are briefly mentioned, but the film focuses instead on a recreation of his South American tour. The end result is a very dry, unengaging film.

Despite every problem with Saludos Amigos, it did improve American/South American relations during WWII. The Axis powers had tried to influence South America, but by 1944, Latin America fully embargoed both Germany and Italy. Saludos Amigos didn’t achieve much, but it helped stop fascism from conquering the world. How many movies can make that claim?

Fantasia Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs Pinocchio Bambi Dumbo Saludos Amigos

#Saludos Amigos #Walt Disney #Walt Disney Animation Studios #Disney #disney studios #Film Criticism #film analysis #review #Disney Canon

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queenmendes · 4 years

Text

things are changing | extra

shawn x reader x connor

a/n: so I know I said this is the last part but I lied! There are proabably 2 more after this. This was a short filler that just happened so please let me know what you think and who she picks! xxx

big big big thank you to @local-neighborhood-biderman for helping me so much!

____

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been wallowing in self pity since you arrived back in Toronto. Shawn and Connor have not left your mind; along with the last moment you saw them. The anger and then regret that flashed through their eyes broke your heart. It felt like you caused all of this drama because you couldn’t choose between one boy.

Your life became one of those romantic dramas you constantly make fun of. Of course, your pity party wasn’t getting this situation out of your mind. Memories from tour played through your head like a movie.

Tomorrow is the first show in America. Currently, the whole team and band was explore the city of Portland. Everyone completely jittery and ready for the show to come. Tour has already been amazing.

“Oh, let’s go in here.” You grabbed his hand and lead him into the little shop. It was small but cozy and cute. It seemed to be a jewelry shop based on the displays up front but the further you walk, the more options you see. In the back, was an older lady sitting behind a large table with different colored beads and lose, empty bands.

“Would you like to make your own bracelets?” The lady asked, gesturing to the empty bands. You quickly nodded before picking up two of the bands and handing him one.

“You make mine and I’ll make yours?” You suggest, smiling widely. He knew he couldn’t say no. Not to that smile. You quickly got to work, picking out the beads you wanted. Deciding to go with a more manly vibe; you picked up black, blue and some green beads. Placing them in an easy pattern on the band, you stop and grab a small white bead that had Y/F/I on it. Then you take two beads that made up your initials, sliding them onto the band along with a bead that was your favorite color. Placing it in the middle of the other beads, you quickly finish up.

“Here.” He said, grabbing your wrist and tying your new bracelet on. You smile as you see that he put his initials on the bracelet; just like you did.

“I love it.” You say after tying his bracelet onto his wrist. The two of you shared a big smile, before paying the lady. He quickly but gently tugs you out of the little shop, and down the streets of Portland. The two of you carefree while you had the chance.

You’re eyes never left the bracelet that was still tied around your wrist as you replayed that memory. You haven’t taken it off since he put it on. To you, it symbolized the connection shared between the two of you.

Denver. You were almost positive that is the city you are currently in. After travelling endlessly, it’s hard to be completely sure on where you are at. Needless to say, the show was amazing as always. The crowd was breathtaking and gave off a great vibe. Now, everyone was on their assigned bus as the journey to the next city was about to start.

You already showered and refreshed yourself. Now, everyone was lounging around the bus, relaxing. Soon, he came and joined you; away from everyone. The smell of this fresh shampoo hit your nose and made you smile at the familiar scent.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, his face awfully close to yours. You motioned to your headphones.

“Jamming.” You smile before offering him one of the buds. He immediately recognized the familiar, smooth voice of Hozier’s Almost (Sweet Music). He sighed as he leaned back, resting one hand across his stomach and the other on your leg, tapping to the beat.

I've got some colour back, she thinks so, too

I laugh like me again, she laughs like you

He watched in awe as you softly sang along to the words. Your voice wasn’t perfect but the look of complete and utter content on your face made everything seem perfect in this moment.

I wouldn't know where to start

He doesn’t know where to start with you. He could write a whole book about just your laugh. The things you did to him without even realizing. Like right now. You had no idea the effect you had on him. The way he smiled without realizing it, just by seeing yours. Or how at the sight of you, his heart jumps out of his chest. Your laugh makes him laugh. How you are goofy to put him back into a good mood when he is feeling homesick. You had no idea that your soft singing was going to be the moment he realizes how strong his feelings for you are.

“What?” You stopped singing as you noticed him staring you; not moving, not even blinking. You sat up straight and wipe your face. “Do I have something on my face?” You asked. He quickly shook his head; his slightly damp hair flying around.

“No. No. You’re perfect.” He whispered and you almost didn’t hear him. He smiled as you looked down, bashfully, but the smile on your lips could be seen by anyone.

Hozier’s voice filled your apartment as you tidy up a bit. It was time for you to stop sitting around all day. But no matter what you did, something brought up another memory of him. The bracelet, to your Spotify playlist, to your favorite TV show. All of your favorite things were connected with him.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” He grumbled as the two of you huddled on his bed in the hotel you were staying in for the night. A lot of the band and crew went out to explore but the two of you were feeling lazy and decided to stay in and have a marathon.

“You chose the last TV show. It’s my turn.” You said as you scrolled on your laptop, looking for the series. You glanced at him from the side of your eyes and had to suppress your smile as you saw him cuddling into your blanket. “Okay, shall we begin?” You retorchically ask because he really did not have a choice.

“So, who’s is that guy again?” “What the fuck. The siblings are lovers? What is this shit?” “Awe its a puppy.” “Why do you like this show again?” Those were a few comments he made in the first half of the episode of Game of Thrones. As annoying as he was getting, his commentary was hilarious.

“Just hush up and watch it. I promise you will like it once the show gets going.” You said, as your head tilted up from its position on his chest. You weren’t sure when or how the two of you ended up in this position but you weren't complaining. He was warm and a great snuggle buddy.

He wouldn’t admit it but you were right. Once he shut up and watched the show, he got really into it. So much that he watched the first 5 episodes in one sitting.

“Alright, so it’s pretty good-” He stopped talking once he noticed you were fast asleep. You’re cheek was pressed up against his chest and your arm was wrapped around his waist; a light death grip on it. But he wasn’t complaining. You looked adorable with your mouth slightly parted and little, soft snores coming out. It made it even better that you were wearing on of his hoodies. This easily became his favorite moment between the two of you. Which is why he decided to snap a quick picture of you on his chest before shifting slightly and falling asleep next to you. He swears it was the best sleep he’s had all tour.

Your hands softly traced over the hoodie you found in your suitcase. It seemed like a good idea to finally unpack the bag that has been sitting by the door for the past week and a half. You didn’t even realize that you took this piece of clothing with you. The all too familiar cologne hit your nose as you held the navy blue hoodie up to your chest. It didn’t hit you how much you missed him until you realized his comforting smell was almost gone from this hoodie. It made you more eager to slip it over you head and cuddle into it; wishing it was his arms instead. But you’d have to settle for the oversized hoodie.

For now.

_________

Tag List (UNBOLD WOULD NOT LET ME TAG)

@turtoix @physicshawn @im-a-stranger-thing @shawn-youth @dreamersseeincolor @spn-marvel-nerd @someinsanefangirl @tinycertain @unsolvedhearts @ykicantbefoundwithyou @marissje @mae-petite-etoile @michellemxndes @curlyfan @haileyofthefandoms @whoopcalpal @chaotic-ness @arypesanchez @shawnmendes048 @sweetheartmendes @justinshawntom @carolineclds @ludiclove @kamustyles @loveylangdon @redrebecca @weliove @maximumcoffeesublime @introvertedrhi @peruvian-bae @iamanerdnot @lovablefangirl @foreveralone19588 @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @ly--canthrope @night-girls-world @we--f0und--w0nderland @rodneywaber @xtmd5 @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @alphabeteeee @shawnandconnor @zigzagsandzebras @danidomm @mariamuses @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson @shessoparticular99 @pitreshawn @char-m-e @riverdalexvixens @bloodorangemoonlight @the-diabolic @xxamzxx @lilya-petrichor @royalexperiment256 @aspiring-fangirls-world @curlyshawnie @tempsta @sleepybesson @sunrisebrashx @calum-booo

#Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes #connor brashier #connor brashier blurb #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier fluff #shawn x reader x connor #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes x reader

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loverabbitss · 4 years

Text

Drippin’ Like Honey

Y/N P.O.V.

I was out at the store shopping for me and my girlfriends. Since, there's three of us food tends to fly by especially because they eat about five meals a day each. I say girlfriends yet their actually my capturers. They brought me from my family when I was seventeen. Apparently my family needed the money to survive because bills were getting higher, so my parents made the executive decision to sell me.

I will forever hate them for this. When I was first sold to May and April I was resistant. Picking up on my anger and hesitation they tried treating me with care and compassion, but all they got in return was anger and rebellion. So, they started treating me more aggressively. They would feed me when they wanted to, they made me watch them have sex, which wasn't just one or two rounds then done. They'd make me clean up their up off the sheets. If I resented I was put in a room by myself with nothing but a bed and bathroom.

Besides that I'd get spanked. If I ever tried to escape I was beaten until my ass had their hand prints on it. It took me a while to truly get accustomed to them because I was so angry with life. I hated how I had no control over anything. However, I stopped fighting back because I felt it wasn't worth it. That's when May and April say me changing and they changed as well.

They would only make me do things sexually if I wanted it, which now means I won't be waking for weeks. Also, they let me be free, but I still belong to them. I'm brought out of my thoughts when the cashier calls for next in line. After I finish I start on my walk home with three huge bags of groceries. Honestly, this is the only reason I've been pissed lately. They have been sending me to buy groceries making me carry these heavy bags home. Then, when I get home they want me to cook for them. They treat me like a fucking maid and I'm fed up.

I get home after some struggle. I place the bags down to get the key unlocking the door. Once inside I hear moans, grunts, and skin slapping. My eyes roll, typical them fucking each other and wanting me to do everything else in this house. Walking to the kitchen I kick my shoes off then put the groceries away. Slowly the sounds decrease and I know that they've ended that round. I doubt that their finished.

Once, I'm finished in the kitchen I feel a tail brush against my leg. Looking done I see Rima, our Peruvian flat-faces cat. I pick her up kissing her head as she snuggles into me.

"Hey mama, those girls making too much noise for you?" I coo rubbing her fur. She purrs softly enjoying the feeling.

I walk to our room and when I enter I see both of them wrapped into each other. April with her hand on May's ass. Their both drenched with sweat and cum dripping out of their pussies. Ignoring them I was over to our shared closet grabbing my robe because I want to get out of this dress.

"Babygirl, come join us." May requests.

"I think I'm good." I respond.

"That wasn't a question Y/N." April growls.

I put Rima down because when I snap I don't want to drop her mid argument.

"Fuck you." I snap.

"That's no way to speak to your daddy." May says.

"Yeah well if I had one I wouldn't have to be so angry." I bark back puffing then walking back into the closet searching for some pajamas.

While searching I feel hands on my waist twist me around. A angry April is in my face seeping red.

"Since, when have you learn to be so disrespectful?" She asks.

"Since, when both you horn dogs couldn't keep your dick in your pants just to do some simple errands." I growl. I feel April's grip tighten on my waist.

"You could've told us how you felt. You always do, why stop now?" May asks from her position on the bed.

"Because it wouldn't matter anyways I'm just a sex slave and toy to you two. That's all I ever was. I don't even know why I tried to convince myself otherwise." I reply.

Before May could respond April pulls me into a heated kiss. At first I tried not to kiss back, but her lips are so soft and the kiss was filled with passion. Every emotion she felt was put into that kiss as she lifted me up causing me to wrap my arms around her waist. Slowly, we break the kiss once air becomes an issue.

"One, your so sexy when your angry. Two, you know we're in love with you and we're sorry for not being as active in helping anymore. Your right we have been caught up with having sex together or with you that we haven't been doing daily errands and for that we apologize." April says.

"I accept your apology, but" I stop then tug on her horn lightly making her whimper a bit.

"If you ever do that again I will end this relationship." I finish.

Her eyes flash bright gold from her hazel eyes. As you can tell she likes the aggressive type. You'd think May was the soft one, but no way she's right below April. They both fight each other for dominance, although, when it comes to me they know that I'm submissive.

April carries me back to the bed dropping me down. I sit up and from the corner of my eye I see a flash of light blue. A slick tongue makes its away around my ear and my body shivers.

"Papi's going to fuck that pretty pussy hard." May husks in my ear. My pussy flusters becoming very wet.

"Look at our babygirl May she's blushing." April teases.

I duck my head a bit then a hand lefts my head back up.

"Don't hide from us babygirl your to gorgeous for that." April says.

I feel hickies begin to liter my neck. Automatically, I move so that my neck is easily accessible. Hands start undressing me untying my dress. I didn't wear anything underneath because there was no need to.

"Gosh your so sexy." April growls as she crawls on the bed getting between my legs.

Her hands wrap themselves around my thighs parting them.

"No no, let's lay her down." May suggests pulling away from her artwork on my neck.

April agrees and they lay me down. She gets between my legs again, her face right in from of my pussy. Her smile widens.

"You smell delicious baby." She moans licking her lips.

She takes no time diving in. I moan moving my hand to her horns holding onto them. May comes in from of me with her fat cock ready to play. I open my mouth allowing her to enter her favorite place. Her eyes close and she's lost in pure bliss as I begin sucking her. April curls her tongue and my back arches. The motion caused me to take May down my throat.

"Fuck babygirl! Just like that." May moans.

Her hand goes to the back of my head and she stills my actions. She starts fucking my face relentlessly. May was lost in her own bliss and April was destroying me with her tongue. She swirls her tongue around my clit as she sucks on it. I moan around May's cock making her tighten her grip.

"I-I-I'm c-close. Take my cum like a go—ughh good cumslut" she struggles to demand.

With three last deep thrusts May cums down my throat. Her warm cum just keeps flowing. Suddenly, my stomach clenches and my hands are gripping April's horns tightly. She moans against my pussy, which takes me over the edge and I'm squirting. I pant heavily and the girls look at me shocked because I've never squirted before.

"We need to get you angry more often." May says.

"Try me and you both will be using dildos to fuck each other." I reply. They both pout.

I lean up on my forearms kissing both their pouts.

"Mmm, I can't feel my legs. Daddyyyy whyyy." I whine. She smirks.

"Because you were being bad." She responds.

I'm lifted from the bed and sunken down onto May's cock cowgirl style. I moan loudly still being sensitive. I feel a finger enter my ass and I groan.

"Your almost there baby." May encourages me as April prepares me for her cock. I grind slowly on May. She grips my hips helping me adjust.

"Papi your so big, your stretching my little hole out." I moan.

April slowly slips in two more fingers and my asshole clenches around them. I bite my lip to keep from whimpering. She cock is two inches thicker than May's so it's hard for her to just slip in.

"Ready babygirl?" April asks.

I nod. She takes our her fingers and lubricates her cock. Slowly she slips her cock into my ass I moan loudly throwing my head against her shoulder. Her hands wrap around and grip my breasts pinching my nipple piercings. Both of my holes clench when she tugs them a bit.

"Oh fuck yes." I moan softly.

I begin to bounce on both cocks. One of April's hands wraps around my neck and the other stays on my breasts. Soon May starts pounding into my pussy and April picks up the message pounding into my ass too. Skin slapping, moans, growls, grunts we're evidently loud throughout the house.

"Ahhh I'm so full." I moan loudly.

"Your so tight." May groans.

My holes clench around both cocks making them grunts. We were fucking like animals without a care in the world. We were loud screaming and moaning. Sweat dripping like honey down our skin. After continuous pounding me they both stilled in me as they came together feeling each other cum. The feeling of their cocks shooting cum into my snatches forced me into cumming hard. I screamed their names knowing that I probably disturbed the neighbors.

"Shit papi and daddy!" I screamed.

I leaned against April for support as we all came down from our high. She whispers into my ear.

"Your going to look so good with our cum leaking out of your holes." She smacks my ass. I bite my lip.

From there that lead to 10 more rounds 5 of which were on our bath tub.

We all had sweat Drippin’ like Honey.

Hey lovelies, I hope you enjoyed this imagine! Don't forget to vote, comment, and share!

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goodnightallwhites · 3 years

Text

V is for Victory by Zenalite

Chapter 1 - Chance Ever since we were young Victoria knew how to put me in my place. I fell in love with her in the sixth grade. With her lush nut brown hair and the light brown eyes - not with her body. I remember my father came to our play at school and told me, “That girl of yours has got one hell of an ass.” I’m mortified now as I remember it, but at the time I thought nothing of it, nor did I understand what having a “hell of an ass” meant. By the eighth grade… I got up to speed. I used to sit by my desk and watch her ass swaying in tight jeans all day long, dreaming of touching her bubble but. Or at the very least holding her hand. Really, I could’ve gone for anything. I'd have gotten hard from holding a straw for her while she drank so long as I could do it. During one project we had to do she informed us of her background: German and Peruvian. Well, damn. That accounted both for her dictatorial quick temper, curvy little hard body and cheerful thoroughness all at once. Instead of saying a word to her, though, I only watched her interact with the jocks from my class. Watched as they put her arms around her and pulled her romantically in their laps. As they felt her up without a worry in the world, and as she half-assedly told them to stop while loving every second of their dirty caresses. I crazily decided to write her a letter for Valentine’s Day and sneak it into her school bag. Only after I did the deed did I realize that I hadn’t remembered to put down my own name on it. But relief washed over me as well. I couldn't begin to imagine the humiliation if she turned me down, which happened to be the only option. I'd have to quit school. Or kill myself. The very next day Victoria came to school asking guys individually if they had written anything to her, with enough anger in her tone to scare them off. She seemed pissed off, but also genuinely interested in finding out who was behind it. We had never spoken before, not even once to greet each other. But when my turn came she sashayed over to my desk, flooding the air with her spicy perfume, and asked, “Did you write this?” Her torso rose before me, with her budding breasts showing under the thin blouse. A small gap of smooth skin between her blouse and jeans showed her toned tummy and the fuzz that went down... I blabbered out an affirmative answer. As I sat there frozen, the other classmates that had been trailing after her following the drama pointed at me and cackled, making fun of my letter. “Next time, just give it to me yourself,” she said coolly. "Why did you write me a thing like that anyway?" "B-Because I like you." "And?" She folded her arms expectantly. "So what?" "I don't know..." "What were you planning to do once I found it?" "I don't know..." Victoria clicked her tongue impatiently. "Were you going to ask me out or something?" Was that a friendly tip? "I wanted to." "So do it. Let's get it over with." The others had gone quiet and stared at us. I couldn't breathe. This was too intense. "Will you go out with me?" Victoria rolled her eyes in disinterested boredom and sighed. "I guess. At least you wrote me something, unlike these other dickwads. But don't waste my time. Make it nice." After that we started dating, if you could call it that. We went out together and talked. For my first date I got her flowers and a plushie, to which she reacted with great hostility, asking, "Do I look like a kid to you?" In spite of the comment though, she held on to it fondly and took it home afterwards. Being so naive and inexperienced, I had no idea what to make of it all. But at school Victoria still hung out with the popular kids, and the guys made no attempt to acknowledge that she was taken. If anything, their behavior went up a notch, and I’d often see them lowering their hands to grab her butt, all the while shooting me a wink of acknowledgement. Fucking assholes. It was around that time that I realized black guys would be the biggest problem. We had a classmate by the name of Lee that made a move on Victoria whenever possible. She could be chatting with her friends during break when he’d slip behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, grinding against her candidly and kissing her neck. Or he would give her a playful smack on the ass whenever the teachers asked her to distribute the corrected papers to the other kids. Victoria made no moves to stop him. If anything, she seemed to relish the attention she got from all the guys and especially from a strong and athletic stud like Lee. A guy which all the girls seemed to want. Whenever we got a substitute teacher and things got super relaxed, she would often go to sit on his knee, only to get swept up into his arms and nestle up in his lap. Can't you see me? I would wonder. I dared not say anything. I considered myself lucky just to be able to talk to her. It was enough that we went out every weekend, even if it seemed more friendly than romantic. We would talk about our family life, about her hopes for the future. "I can't wait to get away from my parents," she confessed to me. We were sitting at one of the tables in the park having some McDonald's. "I'm so sick of them. They won't let me do anything." It seemed to me like she did far more than anyone else. She certainly dressed provocatively... "What do you want to do?" "Honestly?" Victoria chuckled grimly and bit into her burger. "Anything they don't want me to. Fuck them." It seemed to me that we were getting closer. She even let me hold her hand on our dates, and said good night to me in the evenings in text. The way she acted when we were together seemed completely at odds from the bossy and bitch yet high-energy way she acted at school. But at the formal for that year, Victoria danced with Lee the entire night. Whenever I went to her she dismissed me with, “Later.” A few of the kids drank in the bathroom in secret, and she did too. I sat at one of the tables with the rest of the rejects and watched as Lee danced up close to my girlfriend and moved his hands all over her body in ways I never dreamed of. And unlike the other white jocks that were reprimanded by the teachers for doing anything, the teachers avoided eye contact with Lee and Victoria so not to be put on the spot, knowing perfectly well what went on. Victoria wrapped her slender arms around Lee’s neck and the two kissed deeply. My girlfriend. Kissing another guy at our formal. I was supposed to remember this night. To treasure it. She knew I would be watching. We even talked about it on our last date. I wanted to go home and cry. Lee felt her ass through the dress. But soon his dark fingers came down low enough to caress her thigh, and after went up and under the dress to knead her ass. And they spent the rest of the night glued to each other... I just got up and went home, too frustrated to think. I never mentioned it to her. A few days after that we went on a date and I made an attempt to kiss her when we separated, only to have her pull away. “Uhm, maybe another time…” “But why?” I asked indignantly. “You kissed fucking Lee!” Victoria’s eyes shot me a piercing glance. “So? I can kiss whoever I want. If you have a problem with that, let me know, and I’ll find a boyfriend that doesn’t. If you want me to kiss me so bad, just let it happen. The better you are to me, the more likely it is I’ll kiss you.” Then came the night I got my first kiss. It was the height of summer break and Victoria hadn’t answered my texts all day. We hadn’t even seen each other face to face in over two weeks, though her Facebook was full of new pics she uploaded from her outings downtown and to the beach. She called me at around 2 a.m. “Heeeeeey, baaaaaabyyy,” she drawled. “What’s up?” “I was… sleeping. What’s up with you? I’ve been texting you all day.” "Oh, I know. Sorry! I was just busy all day... Are you home by yourself?" As a matter of fact, I was. My mother worked night shifts as a nurse, and Victoria knew that. “I am.” “Could I come over and spend the night?” I sat up in bed anxiously and flipped the covers off. Back then I still wore some Star Wars pyjamas. What times. I need to change, I realized with urgency. “Y-Y-Yeah. You can come over!” “Okay, great. I’ll come right now. I hope you don’t mind I’m bringing a friend.” “No… Not at all…” I should’ve known in advance what kind of “friend” she meant. But I hurried to get myself changed for the big event and clean up my room enough to be welcoming. When Victoria showed on my doorstep all alone, I thought the night was saved. She didn’t bring anyone after all. A flimsy sequin dress hugged the curves of her body tightly, especially around her wide hips and round butt. Even in these few months of summer, her body seemed to get thicker by the day. She shambled inside on uncomfortably tall heels and gave me a peck on the cheek. “My friend’s parking right now. He’ll be in soon.” Her friend turned out to be a massive black guy whose name I never learned. To say that he wasn’t in our age group was an understatement. The guy must’ve been at least in his late 20s if not in his 30s at the time. Not only were his arms covered in tattoos, but a scorpion had been inked around his brow as well. Victoria introduced me as her boyfriend, at which point the guy grabbed me into a tight hug and patted my back amicably. Okay, so he’s not that bad, I thought at the time. Maybe nothing bad will happen at all. Everything changed as soon as we got in the bedroom. Both he and Victoria went over to my bed and began to make out, while I sat down at my desk chair, watching them go at it without a peep. Unlike Victoria, the guy acted a lot more passive and a little out of it. I kept seeing his gaze wandering to the window. Could he really have this happen to him so frequently that he could act totally disinterested? Victoria started to play some rap on her phone. She kissed his neck and arms, then slowly lifted his shirt and took it off. It was just so clear from her behavior that she was the thirsty one that couldn’t get enough. And that made me hard as well. Her lips pressed against his hard abs and his pecs over and over, her dainty fingers rushing over the black skin to feel the hard-packed muscle flexing underneath. Drunken with lust with and willing to do whatever he wanted her to. I knew at that moment that whatever he had asked at her, whether it was to break her cherry or have her kneel so he could piss in her mouth like a urinal, Victoria would’ve submitted happily. The lure and the power of BBC became all too apparent even from my perspective. At length his massive hands wrapped around her waist, then slowly came down to grab her perky butt. He lifted her dress and exposed her ass. All Victoria wore was a high-waisted thong. It was the first time I had ever seen her… like that. My small dick raged at full mast but I dared not touch it. The black fingers dug into her young, soft asscheeks and massaged it, playing with her teen ass however he pleased and smacking it for good measure as they made out. Victoria only giggled happily in response and whispered to him. At some point she turned around and met my eyes. I jerked at my seat with surprise and embarrassment. “It’s okay, honey,” she said calmly, almost lovingly. “You can touch yourself if you want.” That was all I needed. I leaned back and stroked myself as I watched my girlfriend worship this alpha male that she lusted after, ogling the way his black fingers went all over her white flesh at leisure, in a way mine never would be allowed to. Only black guys for her. This was porn in real life. Not even. Far better than porn. I could not have pointed out a moment in my life when I felt better than right then, jerking myself off as I watched her offering her young body to a black guy in my own bed. “I love you,” I heard her whisper hotly. “Fuck me.” “And go to jail?” He laughed. “I don’t think so.” Her nails bit desperately into his flesh. “Please, Daddy. I need it… I need your big black cock inside of me.” He frowned. “What you need is a good spanking.” “Then spank me, Daddy.” Victoria practically begged for it, grinding herself against his crotch and putting all the sultry energy she could into her voice. "Please spank me and teach me a lesson, Daddy." Our black friend suddenly lifted her up and brought her facedown on the bed, with her ass in his lap. The moonlight streamed through the window and put the spotlight on the intense curve of her bubble butt. The two perfectly round asscheeks rose tantalizingly, topped by two cute dimples that were inked out by the shadows. His black hand came down to rest of her ass, and for a time even he seemed in awe of its perfection. The wonders of a nice teen ass. Fresh and completely available to him to do with as he pleased. His fingers caressed it gently, then sank into it roughly. Victoria yelped and laughed darkly in response, but he quickly bundled up her thick hair and yanked her head back, arching her back and in the process and getting her butt to curve upwards. “Punish me, Daddy, please… Please punish me. I’ve been such a bad girl.” At first he smacked it only jokingly. But seeing as she begged for more and seemed to want it hard, he began to slap it outright. That rough and rugged black hand whipped discipline into the fourteen-year-old white ass and taught her a lesson about black superiority neither she nor I would soon forget. Victoria, who had begged for it, now lost her slutty voice and cried out for him to stop for real, bringing her hands back to ward off his blows. Didn’t she realize it was far too late for that? The guy grabbed her wrists together and held her still, not coming down upon he ass with all the annoyance built up by her interruption. Not play - real punishment. The soft flesh jiggled and rippled with each hit, while Victoria howled in her palms. Her toes curled as the burning agony overtook her butt, her whole body twitching from the waves of pain that went through her. Not once did the stud relent. Not once did he listen to her cry for mercy. He only gave her what she begged for. He finished off with a sigh, leaving Victoria whimpering like a child as she wriggled her reddened ass high in the air. Almost as if she wanted more. Her body convulsed in response to the rough treatment. I couldn’t help but wonder… Did she come? I certainly had. The black guy caressed her hair and quieted her down, at which point he brought her back up for a makeout session. Victoria double checked she had his number right and held his hand lovingly as she walked him out. She came back into the bedroom, still trembling slightly. “How do you feel?” she asked me. “G-G-Good,” I managed to say. “How about you?” Victoria grinned and threw her head back. “Amazing. That was so fucking hot.” She turned around to show me her red butt. A few spots of blood glimmered. “How do I look?” “You look wonderful.” Victoria giggled grimly. “Is that so? Yeah, I could see you enjoying yourself as well. I was worried how you’d react to that. But I’ve been pleasantly surprised. I must say I’m… happy that you’re my boyfriend.” She looked away as soon as she said that, but not before I could hear the shy crack in her voice and the blush in her cheeks. This was what made her nervous? This? “I’m glad you’re my girlfriend, too…” Victoria said nothing for a time. Then she turned around, came over, and kissed me. Our first real kiss. I awkwardly struggled to learn in the space of a few seconds how to do it, but all I could do was press my tongue awkwardly against hers. She broke it off, laughing. “You’re terrible.” Seeing my disappointed reaction, she added, “But I’ll teach you how to do it properly.”

#bbc #story #interracial

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mraaronwhite · 3 years

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THE GOLDFISH

We sat in the conservatory of my weathered, beach side cottage, overlooking some tomato plants and a splintered oak bench that I collectively called my back garden. Now, being a cottage, you would be forgiven for thinking that this was a small affair, the kind of cottage that malicious, child-eating witches would inhabit deep in the woods. Not this cottage though. There was actually too much room believe it or not. Well, too much room for a man and his cat at least.

You see, I grew up in a cramped, narrow excuse for a flat in Edinburgh. Usually being able to touch two opposing walls at once. So, when I inherited this place, a fortnight ago, from my recently deceased Aunt, it was a breath of fresh air to say the least. It felt like the perfect excuse to have a party. Not to celebrate my Aunt just dying (she was a grumpy old boot, mind you) but rather the fact that after twenty-three years of always wanting a place of my own, I finally had it.

I messaged the group chat, letting them know of the upcoming shindig to mark my housewarming, informing them that they would all be coming. None of them having a choice in the matter, I joked. There were ten of them in the group, eleven including myself, and we had been inseparable since the later years of high school. That fact surprises most people actually. Given that when folk head off to university, college or go backpacking through Asia, they normally lose contact. After all, it’s a perfect chance to reinvent yourself, and doing that sometimes means saying goodbye to some folk.

Not us though. We had to be different. Having nearly been out of high school for as long as we were in it, our collective friendship was as strong as it ever. We hadn’t all been together in nearly a year as well, so when I sent out the invites, they all jumped at the chance.

The night itself exceeded my wildest expectations. We laughed, we sang, we laughed again. It was a night of pure merriment and happiness and it will live forever in my head as one of the high points of my life. As I sighed a breath of relief when I moved into my sand surrounded home, I did the same when I saw all my friends together again that night. My face literally started to hurt with the amount of smiling I was doing, which only made me smile all the more.

All good things must come to an end though I thought, and as the clock flashed one in the morning, the designated drivers began ferrying home their passengers. Before they left however, we had but one tradition to enact. An exclusively Scottish ritual that you have to do at the end of a good party. Listening to Runrig’s Loch Lomond at full volume and jumping up and down like a bunch of toddlers on a sugar high. Once the song was over however, the party was too unfortunately. One by one, they said their farewells and staggered down my grassy strewn path. They waved and honked their horns until eventually they fell out of sight, becoming part of the jumbled mess of streetlights and other late-night travellers.

I ventured back inside my new home and couldn’t help but feel lonely. Lonelier than I had in a while. At least I had Bean though, I thought to myself. She was my ashen-haired feline companion, and we’d been through thick and thin together. I don’t know what I’d do without her to be honest. She’s a nervous wee thing though and doesn’t do well around crowds, so had been chilling in the spare room for the night. That was until I opened the door of course, and then she was out of there at damn near mach four.

As she sniffed and scratched her way around the room, I flung myself into the heap of cushions and blankets people had sat on in the conservatory, their lazy attempt of tidying up before their departure I concluded. I sighed, letting out a small chuckle. Planning on just kipping there for the night, I shut my eyes and soon felt myself drifting off into the endless depths of my unconscious.

A distant toilet flushing filled the house and swiftly brought me back to reality. Then click clack, click clack, click clack. Footsteps. They were closing in and at this point I was on my feet, starting to panic. I had never been in a fight before, but I was about to be if my theory of a murderer checked out. In my drunken state, I never thought to question why someone would go to the toilet before killing me. I looked about the conservatory, trying to see something I could use to defend myself and grabbed the first thing that came to me. A tube of Paprika flavoured Pringles. In hindsight, I could have probably picked something a little more useful, but hey ho, that’s what a night of binge drinking and anxiety gets you. Then as the “Murderer” got closer, she appeared in the doorway. Clio DeLuca. My best friend.

“Where did everyone go??” she said, cool as a cucumber, leaning on the frame of the door.

“They left like half an hour ago” I replied, my face a picture of confusion “What the hell are you still doing here though?? We all thought you left ages ago” I asked, half laughing, while letting out a sigh of relief.

“Funny story. I went to the toilet and kinda just fell asleep half way through.” She told me, sitting down the arm of the raggedy couch. Then flopping onto my makeshift bed, that I had been nice and comfy on only moments before.

“What are you like??” I said, now properly belly laughing. “You might as well get comfy, the buses stopped at eleven.” I paused “Sooo, do you want another drink?”

“Yeah but my heads splitting, nothing hard.” I was about to offer her some of the special stuff but she got in before me “Oooh in fact, have you got any hot chocolate??” She asked, looking up at me with those wild green eyes, that I first met oh so long ago.

“Now we’re talking” I exclaimed with glee “I’ve got just the thing!” I then marched off into the kitchen, meeting Bean as she was having a nibble at some of her biscuits. I flicked the kettle on and shouted through “What one you fancying then?”

“I dunno - hic” she mumbled. The sounds of her then rolling off the couch and wandering through soon followed. “What kind - hic - you got?” she asked, parking herself at my breakfast bar.

“Weeeell” I started, opening my cupboard I that housed my secret obsession “I’ve got your normal supermarket kinds - Cadburys, Galaxy, Bournville?”

“Yeah, one of them is fine” she chimed in.

“Nah, that’s the boring stuff. I’ve also got white chocolate, orange, peppermint, vanilla bean, salte” Bean scuttled into the room, hearing this, thinking I was talking to her, to which prompted Clio to scoop her up.

“Well hiii, where have you been hiding all night??” Bean purred, gladly accepting the cuddles and attention. Clio looked back up at me, staring through her shadowy locks that fell onto her face like a waterfall in the night. “Please continue” she smiled, nodding at the cupboard, all the while still scratching Bean’s belly.

“Ah yes, where we, so we’ve got salted caramel flavour, cinnamon, apple pie and the Pièce de résistance of my collection, genuine Peruvian hot chocolate.” I turned back to her “Think I’m gonna go for the Peruvian blend, you?” I asked. She was back looking at Bean again, given her some more lovin’. She’s always had the attention span of a goldfish, and I always found it quite funny. “I’ll just make the you the same” I laughed.

“Sorry, aye, sounds lovely.” I spooned the mixture into two bulky mugs, hearing purring and some meows coming from behind me. “Sooo” she started, “When did you become the Ramona Flowers of hot chocolate?” she jested.

“What you talking about, I’ve always been into hot chocolate?” she started to speak before I cut her off “Cream and marshmallows by the way??”

“Ooh yes please” Her eyes lit up “But yeah, I know you’ve always liked it but this is like obsessed. Like I’m scared if I don’t like this” she paused, while pointing her head at our mugs “that you might actually kill me.” She looked so sincere as she told me this.

“Shut up” I pleaded, in the moaniest voice I could muster “You know, I don’t have to let you sleep here tonight, I’m doing it out of the pure goodness of my heart.”

“Nah I’m being serious, and once the papers find out, you’ll probably get a cool nickname as well. The hot chocolate killer, perhaps? Whadda ya think, Bean?” She gave a solemn meow.

“Fuc..” she cut me off, looking aghast, while covering Beans ears.

“There’s children present” she shot back, with a hint of faux anger and a wry grin. I then simply mouthed my retort, all the while giving her the finger. Then, just as quickly, she flipped it right back at me. We then both had a good giggle as I stirred our drinks, plopped in the marshmallows and squirted the cream on top.

“Shall we?” I asked, while gesturing to the conservatory with my head as my hands were full. She cradled Bean like a new-born, stood up and we both made our way through.

I gently placed our steaming mugs down on the glass topped coffee table, moving some meekly filled beer bottles out of the way to give us some room. We both fell back into the warm embrace of the couch, prompting Bean to hop out off Clio’s lap and curl up between the two of us.

My Bluetooth speaker, which sat in the corner atop some books, echoed out the tunes of my Spotify playlist which I had shuffled at the beginning of the party. Turning it to a whisper when folk left, I turned it back up again to fill the room with some life.

Looking about, the room, and the rest of the house was an absolute state. Crisps everywhere, too many cider cans to count and an embarrassing amount of smarties lay scattered about the floor, from when I was trying to toss them up and catch in my mouth earlier in the party. A dozen or so polaroids were sprinkled about the place as well, and when one caught my eye lurking under the armchair in the corner I got up and quickly collected the rest. “Get any good snaps?” Clio asked, while taking a generous sip of her hot chocolate, leaving a lovely big creamy moustache under her petit, turned up nose. I smiled, deciding not to tell her. “Daaamn, this is gooood!” she exclaimed, in a warm, satisfied tone, telling me she loved the drink just as much as I did.

“Told ya!” trying to not look smug “Let’s see here” I pondered, thumbing through the small pile of photos. “Hmmha” I grinned, looking at Clio, who was puffing her cheeks and making her eyes go crossed “That’s a good ‘un” handing it to her. She flung herself back onto the seat, seeing the picture.”

“Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with us?” she chortled, leaning forward again to take another sip of the sweet goodness. Her face then quickly soured “Can you skip this one, it reminds me of when I worked in Asda. They played the same six songs on repeat. It was actually hell.”

“Us!?” I asked her, while I pulled out my phone, skipping to the next song “Speak for yourself! I take only good photos.”

“Is that right?” she laughed back, cocking her head, proceeding then to snatch the bundle of photos from my hands. “We’ll see about that” in a determined tone, while furrowing her brow. I took the opportunity to indulge in the heated sweetness of my mug and no less than ten seconds later “Here, look at this, what the hell are you doing with your lips?” shoving the polaroid at my face.

“Its called blue steel, look it up” I confidently hit back.

“I dunno what that is but you LOOK like a goldfish”

“I think you’ll find I look damn sexy” making sure to sound as cocky and arrogant as I could.

“And by sexy” doing air quotes with her fingers “I take it you mean the lesser known definition of the word, meaning to look like you live at the aquarium at Dobbies?” she ranted, putting one her best condescending voice as she could.

“You know, sometimes, your words, they hurt.” Looking back at her, attempting to appear actually upset and offended. She could always see right through my piss poor acting skills though, and we both just started giggling again.

This is the norm for when me and Clio hang out. I make fun of her, she makes fun of me, we laugh about it and on and on it goes. It’s been our routine since primary four, when we first met, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The rest of that night was no exception, we bantered about for a bit then did some actual serious talking as well. Our sexuality, putting the world to rights, family shit. The usual kind of deep topics you chat about after a night of drinking and partying, and before we knew it, I looked at my phone and it flashed 4:33AM.

Bean had migrated over to the open window by this point, she was doing some serious loafing. Presumably to cool down I thought. The dregs of our hot chocolate sat in the now cold mugs and the two of us were cosy under a massive blanket. Her head gently rested on my shoulder.

I peered out through the double doors that lead to my garden, amalgamating into the sands and shells of the dark beach. The North Sea lay before me, stretching as far as the eye could see, eventually bleeding into the never ending abyss of space. An army of stars littering its canvas, shining down on us mere mortals below.

I stared at the colossal entity that was the cosmos, trying to make shapes out of its burning suns. I was at a loss at how the early astronomers of prehistory were able to see anything apart from a jumble of distant polka dots. “Hey” I whispered, gently nudging my shoulder.

“Hmm” She softly moaned to let me know she was listening.

“Do you see anything up there? You know, in the stars.” I continued, still whispering. She craned her neck back and opened her wild grassy eyes to look up at the sky above.

“I dunno” she looked from corner to corner, eventually pointing toward the right of where we were sitting “There’s Orion’s belt.”

“Nah like I mean something new, not an already existing constellation.” I prodded.

“I really can’t say. What can you see?” she asked, shutting her eyes getting comfy under the blanket again. I gazed about the dark blue sky with great curiosity. Then, directly in front of me, high above the wispy clouds I faintly made out the shape of goldfish. Probably because it was on my mind from earlier, but nevertheless, I could see it clear as day. I jostled Clio’s head once again.

“Look, there, right in front of us. Can you see a goldfish?” Groggily sitting up, she focused to where I was pointing and tilted her head.

“Yeah, I can actu…” She trailed off, as did my music. Both of us were looking at the fish in the sky, but now, the stars in our newly discovered constellation were twitching and swirling. They also began glowing much brighter than the other stars in the sky. Both of us were transfixed. The whole thing eventually started pulsing. Going dim and then shining bright. It was slow at first but then gradually got faster and faster. Then, and I’ll remember this moment until my dying day, it appeared in front of us.

There, in the obsidian blackness of the sky, it shone down on us. A gargantuan, glowing goldfish. It swam about as if we were looking through the cold, wet glass of an aquarium. Darting about the night sky as easily as it would have underwater. Its visage, although similar to a normal goldfish, was still very different. Apart from the obvious size distinction, the one before us existed purely as an outline defined by the stars. Its body was see-through, the same inky darkness as the rest of space. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and neither could Clio given her jaw was almost touching the floor. We were both outside by this point, wanting to get as clear a look as possible.

“Te.. tell me you’re” I mumbled “you’re seeing this as well” I eventually mustered, breaking the silence. Clio simply nodded, staring unblinkingly at the godlike being as it swished and swooshed through the cosmos.

“Okay” she finally said “Either we’ve fallen into some weird sci-fi novel or you spiked my hot chocolate” trying to make sense of the impossibility of what was happening.

“Why isn’t it cold though? I asked, looking up and down the beach, and after a few moments had passed, she eventually processed my question prompting her whip her head at me.

“There’s a massive floating fish made out of stars in the sky and you’re worried about the weather? She half yelled, with great incredulity.

“Clio, its 5 in the morning. In February. In Scotland. It should be freezing.” She thought about what I was saying and looked about as well. “Its warm though, and there’s no wind.” I paused “And no noise for that matter.” I paused again “I don’t understand”.

“It’s weird” she started “I feel like I should be scared or freaked out or… something” she looked at me “But.. it feels right. It feels like we were meant to be here. To see” she paused, looking back at the fish who was still merrily swimming about the sky “whatever this is.” I felt the same way, in my gut. I knew that whatever was happening wasn’t meant to hurt or frighten us. So, I began walking forward, taking Clio’s hand as I did so. We walked far onto the beach. It was still warm, still completely quiet.

We eventually reached the waters edge, as close as we could get to the being in front of us, when we notice that the sea itself had stopped. It plateaued to a complete halt. No waves. No tide. Nothing. It looked like a gigantic mirror, that stretched out past the horizon. Reflecting everything that was happening above. I bent down and dipped my fingers in, expecting it to be solid but it was just as wet as the normal sea. Just completely still. As if someone had hit the pause button.

I sat down, cross legged on the shore, as did Clio, and we watched the fish for hours. It swam to the left, to the right. It swam far away, getting smaller, then past the horizon only to jump up again as if it was a dolphin doing tricks.

The sky was gradually getting lighter, now a dusky blue, and we both knew that the fish’s departure was upcoming. Potentially any minute now. It suddenly came to a gentle stop, high in the twilight sky. It was looking right at us, into the deep-seated depths of our souls.

Now, I’m not an emotional man, it takes a lot to upset me. Even the most heart wrenching of films doesn’t evoke a reaction. But at the very moment, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Not out of sadness, or even happiness. It was just raw emotion. I could tell by Clio’s sniffling that she was having a similar reaction.

Then, as mysteriously as it arrived, it vanished. Its image fading back into the now pale blue of space. The stars that made up its outline, in their original position. It’s retreat from our world meant that it was back to normal, and in perfect synchronisation, the temperature dropped to just above zero, the wind blew at our backs and the once static waves drenched us in salty seawater.

Needless to say we both screamed out in discomfort, then looking at each other deep in the eyes, we embraced. I hugged her tighter than I had ever before, never in my life had I felt as close to someone as I did in that moment and I could tell she felt the same way. We swiftly then ran back to my cottage to warm up. After a nice warm and soapy shower, a fresh change of clothes (her having to borrow some shorts and a hoodie) she joined me on the couch, where we first saw the big fish, only a few hours ago.

We sat in the conservatory, in silence for the most part. My tomato plants blew in the wind, gently tapping against the glass of the doors. Bean now sitting, curled up between us. Purring softly as I patted her silvery fur. Clio eventually spoke.

“Y’know, no one is gonna believe us” she said, in a solemn tone.

“No” I sighed, while shaking my head.

“Then why should we tell them” she exclaimed. “They’d think we were insane”. I acknowledged her sense; everyone, anyone we told, would think we were mad.

“I just don’t get why” I interjected, to which she looked puzzled “Why did that happen to us, what does it mean?”

“Does it have to mean anything?” I couldn’t help but furrow my brow, not being content with her answer “Look” she began again “When you see a sunset, a deer in the wild or you’re caught in the middle of a thunderstorm, do you ask why?” She paused, looking at me “No, you just enjoy them for what they are. Beautiful acts of nature.”

“But what we saw, Clio. It was Impossible. It shouldn’t have happened. It defies all the laws of physics that we know.”

“So?” she said, shrugging, casually as ever.

“So, don’t you want to know how all of that was possible?”

“Of course, I do, but even if I did, it wouldn’t make what just happen any more meaningful. In fact I think it would detract from the whole thing.” She could tell I was confused, which only made her smile, sit right next to me and take my hand in hers “When you see a magic trick, when you see a magician pick the card you were think of from thin air, what’s the best bit about it?” She said, looking right at me, with her wild green eyes. I thought about it for a few seconds.

“The trick” she smiled even wider “The mystery of it all and the trying to work it out.”

“And if you knew how it was done?” she continued

“It would ruin it.”

“Exactly.” I finally got what she meant and appreciated our night-time visitor all the more. I put my arm around her, pulling her into another hug. Gently kissing her on the side of her head.

Things aren’t beautiful because we understand them or know when they’re going to happen. It’s the fleeting mystery and spontaneous nature of it all that truly makes it exciting. The late-night conversations, when you can’t stop dancing with your pals, warm hot chocolate, a cat’s affection, silly photos with funny faces and stargazing with your best friend. Its moments like these that make you really appreciate the wonderfully weird gift of life.

#Goldfish #sci-fi #scottish #short fiction #short story #weird #fun

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princessvalperez · 4 years

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Solo One

-𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚: August 15th, 2017

-𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Abuse, violence, drugs.

-𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜: Your Teeth In My Neck By Kali Uchis

𝘽𝙖𝙗𝙮, 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙣𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡?

𝙄𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚?

𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪?

𝙊𝙝 𝙤𝙝 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪?

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙉𝙤 𝙤𝙝,

𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙞𝙩 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧, 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧, 𝙤𝙝 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧, 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧, 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧

Sainty..." The smooth Spanish accent rang loud and clear as the slender figure of Valentina Perez wandered the halls. It was currently 2 am, on a hot summer night. Val knew it was August, the month of her birthday. But, exact dates were hard to keep track of here. It was like Casa Rosado, the name given to her boyfriend and his partner’s mansion, was in a time warp. She often found herself losing track of what day it was if she didn't check her phone or watch the news.

Those were two things she tended to avoid. The nasty headlines about the "drug addict Princessa" were hurtful. Some people in the media knew the truth, they knew Valentina was stuck with her boyfriend. She wasn't selfish or crazy like they made her out to be, that version of her came later. But, corrupt politics were big in this city. Her beautiful city of Lima was being run by the drug business. Peru had recently been influenced by neighboring countries and was quickly becoming a hotspot. The drug money kept wealth in the country, specifically the capital. It wasn't her parents who ran their kingdom, it was the drug lords who supplied money to the towns and the schools and the hospitals. So, Valentina's family was being blackmailed. No, she wasn't taken hostage but rather stuck due to loyalty to protect her family and a sick love she had for her abuser.

Santiago, or Saint, ran Lima and the people in it. He belonged to one of the biggest drug rings in all of Peru. He had an incredible amount of power and the government turned a blind eye to his group with the use of bribes and threats. He was years older than the currently seventeen-year-old girl and had the ability to manipulate and use her. He had fully convinced the naive young princess that he owned her and for now, she accepted it. They were three years in and she was too paralyzed by fear to leave and blinded by what she thought was love. Val had the ability to just walk away but, so much was at stake.

“Mi flor, why are you awake?" The deep voice of the man asked. Val had ended up in the basement, where Saint was currently sitting at a table, cutting cocaine. The designer drug ran this country and it was how Saint and his partners stayed in power. His words like a sweet melody to her as she sauntered over to his side. He had a special way of doing that, changing personalities instantly. Just a few hours ago he was screaming at her about how worthless she was and now, his arms were wide open for the Latin girl. He was a con artist, a psychopath and a master manipulator all in one.

"Couldn't sleep.," Val mumbled tiredly, taking a seat in his lap as she tugged down the big t-shirt she wore. It was one of the rare moments the drug house was silent. It was just them and the few security he kept scattered around at all times, everyone else had gone out of the night, all of the associates and their young "girlfriends". Val and Saint, in the middle of an argument, decided to stay home. Usually, the mountainside fortress was full of people, including young girls forced into this life, similar to but worse than her own situation. The women were kept around for company and relationships but, mainly for the sex, drug preparation and drug-delivering in and out of the country. The Peruvian government still hadn't caught onto how severe the drug problem was getting, it was only known in the capital. So, young females traveling in and out of the country for "vacations" wasn't suspicious.

Gently, not to mess up his concentration, the girl wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into his chest. "Have a bump.," Saint commanded, nudging her chin up gently as he brushed long dark strands of hair from her brown orbs. Val complied, it was the only drug she partook in but, Saint had her basically addicted. With a rolled-up $100 bill, Val took a line and then Saint proceeded to do a few. With her head tilted back the young princess paused for a moment and then went back to silently watching him work.

“So, um, Elio texted me again. He wants me to come to visit the palace for a few days on my birthday.." The submissive girl began, nervously nibbling at her bottom lip as she helped package the white powder. Saint didn't speak, her just continued to work but, his face began to harden. Val knew what was coming if she continued to push him but, she wanted to see her twin brother, she wanted to see her family after two months of living here. "We're only half an hour away from the palace. You could come or if you're busy one of the girls could come with me. I would take one of your drivers and you would know what I was doing at all times and.." Her nervous rambling was cut off by the sharp tone of the older male.

"Aye, ¡Cállate! Valentina. I can't hear myself think." The male dropped what he was doing and abruptly stood up from the chair. His expression hardened as he towered over the sitting girl. "You asked me earlier and I said no. Why would I change my mind? No, means no." The petite girl frowned, biting down on her bottom lip a bit harder. Usually, she would just nod and comply. Saint was incredibly overprotective and at times delusional. He suffered from bipolar disorder. Combine that with drugs and the paranoia of the illegal business he ran and you got the unstable person he was. Today, however, Val fought back. She was growing tired of it, of always being obedient and Saint was noticing the fire burning behind her usually calm brown orbs.

“I’m going.” She stated calmly, glaring at the male as she stood and began to walk away. “I’ll have El pick me up tomorrow and I’ll be back by Sunday.”

“Walk away and see what happens, I dare you—“ he growled, watching in silent fury as she paused, flicked him off and proceeded to continue to the stairs. It was something she had never done. Val was calm in nature and sweet. But, he was drawing the hot-blooded Latina out of her.

“You ungrateful bitch!” He roared out, running after the teenager. With a yelp of fear, she began to run up the steps, staggering along the way but almost reaching the top. She was no match for the older man. He easily caught up to the princess, grabbed her arm and threw the girl down. Val caught herself before she could tumble down the steps. Screams of anger and fear intermixing as she tried to escape him.

No one would come to help her. No one would rescue her— this was Valentina’s reality. Swiftly he cornered the princess, grabbed her head roughly and slammed it against the drywall. Instantly, she crumbled, whimpers of pain coming from the young girl as she clutched the back of her head, liquid coating her hair.

“I told you no..” Saint spoke calmly again, crouching down where his girlfriend laid, crumpled up in a ball as she blinked off the double vision and dizziness. “Next time, don’t disobey me, mi flor. I hate having to do that.” He finished, pressing his lips to her forehead.

With all the hate and anger she could manage Val drew her hand back and punched him right in the nose. It was something she had never done in all of her seventeen years. It didn’t phase him much but, the man did stumble back a bit, eyes wide with shock.

“Little brat, don’t make me do it again. Get up, I’ll call someone to come tend to..that.” He motioned to her bloody hand, glaring at the girl before leaving.

“I’m not your fucking flower.”

#royalpainsroleplay

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sometimesrosy · 5 years

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I wasn’t in fandom then but why did people think Bellamy was a bad guy in S3? Its weird to me people thought that I mean I wasn’t HAPPY w/Bellamy I was frustrated he was lead by Pike(I prefer mentorKane)he did terrible things but hasn’t EVERY character??At NO point did my brain think Bellamy=Bad. There are shows that turn characters to a villain but watching S3 I actually saw S1 Bellamy w/ the volume turned up he was an ass but it was him overprotective & there was more to it than we saw

It was a BIG fandom discussion. And it was on both sides of the dumb shipwar Bellarke vs CL.

Let me put this behind the drop because the harder it is for people to access the fewer people who want to start pointless fights will see it.

CLs thought that Bellamy was the bad guy because they believed that Lxa was the hero of the story, the sky people were invaders and colonialists, and Bellamy was the one who stood between Lxa and victory. HE’S the one who led the charge. HE’S the one who cause war and violence and stopped peace from happening, which, they believed, was Lxa’s goal, because she was the good guy and her love for Clarke was pure and good and Clarke was the love interest heroine and the Hero’s reward for being the hero. That’s my read. They looked at CL as a classical romantic fantasy/fairy tale with L as the warrior king and Clarke as the fair princess. Fair enough. But they were getting the wrong story out of The 100, because that wasn’t the direction The 100 was going.

However, their story made Bellamy, the evil love interest who wanted to take Clarke away from the hero, into the villain of the story. He was the one who stopped the hero from reaching her goal. Therefore, that made him the villain.

Never mind that Lxa wasn’t the hero, Clarke was, Bellamy was the co-protagonist not the villain, the POV characters are told to us in the title, The 100, they are NOT the marauding enemy. Or that ADC had a contract on a bigger show where she was a main. It was a ship-based interpretation that made Lxa the star of the show, Clarke the reward, and Bellamy the villain. And BOY did they hate Bellamy.

If you ask me, the bellarke fandom ALSO adopted this idea that the sky people and Belamy were written as villains. But instead of taking it as the CORRECT interpretation, they decided that JR was the enemy who was now VILLAINIZING Bellamy, and ruining the show, taking the heroic POC hero of the story, and demonizing him in a racist story where all the POC characters are colonialists intent on taking over the POC “coded” grounders.

I didn’t see much POC coding in the grounders. To me, the stylization was more viking than say, african tribal, or native american. Maybe some Hun. Their decision that the grounders were POC coded was basically limited to fur ideas.

they used bronzer and makeup to appear darker (they apparently did not live through the 80s, decade of bronzer and deep tan.)

clarke had dreadlocks. (those are literally not dreadlocks. dreadlocks don’t fall out when you get caught in the rain.)

the bindi-helm of awe that the commanders wear, and the influence of eastern religion on their beliefs. (that is there but I don’t think it’s enough to make them POC coded. And I am speaking as an actual buddhist, nam myoho renge kyo.)

that grounders are barbarians which they think=POC, and The Ark is tech advanced which they think=white (an equivalency which I personally think=racist.) now i just googled barbarian tribes and do you know what I discovered? All the barbarian tribes were damn europeans. :/

I don’t know, man. I think a lot of the reading of Bellamy as a villain was misinterpretation, and adoption of shipwar and fanwar antagonism.

They were ANGRY at JR making Bellamy go through that and also at “giving” Clarke to Lxa. They BELIEVED the CL’s interpretation and took it on because it fed their anger and outrage. They wanted to fight, not understand the story.

They ignored that almost everyone in the Arkadia story was minority. With the Filipino mixed race dude as the center of the story, whose soul was being fought over by the “good” half peruvian peace maker and the “bad” black warmonger. The support for that story was, a troubled white girl, a middle aged asian woman, her asian son, a gay black man, two white girls (one of whom died,) a gay white man, and a black man who died. Bellamy had to choose his commitment. Be the good guy or do whatever he must for his people and be lost. He chose to be the good guy, because he is the hero, and he was the hero of the arkadia story. (Jaha’s story was separate and not part of that political story, so Raven, Abby and Jasper were in that story, not Bellamy’s.)

But you know, every time someone came up with evidence to back up their interpretation, someone called them delusional. or everyone called them delusional, even if their “delusions” were actual canon. So people stopped believing in canon and started making up their own interpretations based on outrage, political positions, accepted dogma, and your standard online battles.

#the 100 #i survived season 3 #people like their misinterpretations and fanwars and don't care if they are based on canon or logic

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bambamramfan · 5 years

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I've just returned from some travels throughout Southeast Asia, and I was struck once again by how pervasive and dominant American culture is worldwide. Our music, movies, celebrities, fashion, and sports are basically the lingua franca for all other cultures that would otherwise have nothing in common. I've encountered humble farmers in the Vilcabamba range of the Peruvian Andes that live at ~17,000 ft elevation in remote villages who harbor a passionate love for early 2000's era WrestleMania. I've met with Jordanian Bedouins who live in tents but can sing every word of Kanye West tracks. And now I've talked to Thai mahouts who live among elephants in the hills of Chiang Mai who have an eye for the apparel of Supreme, an overpriced American skateboarding brand

Sometimes it seems like this level of cultural penetration doesn't even make sense. Ads for televisions in Bangkok prominently featured the new Benedict Cumberbatch Grinch flick, which is strange when you consider that all of 0.7% of the country are Christian and they most likely lack the cultural context of Seussian canon to begin with. Other instances are genuinely sad: at the big S2O festival that closes out Songkran (the Thai New Year celebration), the stages for local acts - which included music, but also muay thai fights, for instance - were almost completely empty as everyone there congregated around C-list American acts like Steve Aoki and 3lau. Hearing a masseuse in a Thai bathhouse humming Drake's In My Feelings leads one to wonder just how much of the Buddhist nation's hypersexualization is attributable to western influence

However one media property above all others has stood out to me in my travels, and that is the Marvel Cinematic Universe Avengers films. This perhaps shouldn't come as a surprise given that it is the #1 highest grossing franchise of all time in terms of ticket sales, but these movies are culturally dominant all over the world. Ask a cabby in any city you find yourself in and even if he only makes it to the movies once every couple years he will tell you about his love for these films. The new one, Avengers: Endgame, just tripled the midnight screening records in China. Which is funny because...

Well, because the main hero of the MCU is called Captain America. He wears an American flag as a costume. He is, from his very origins - and this is played with in-universe, explicitly - a piece of outright propaganda for the US government. And this character is expressly the most heroic figure in the franchise, who other characters turn to for moral leadership because of his unimpeachable integrity and unquestionable virtue. He may not be the strongest or the fastest or the funniest of the heroes, but you can count on the guy in the stars and stripes who answers to the name 'America' to make the right calls and be the good-est good guy in every encounter. It is almost beyond parody how nakedly this franchise propagandizes its country to the world's youth - and it becomes even more absurd when you recognize that these other countries frequently lack the cultural context of the 80 years of cheesy comics we take for granted and are often encountering these characters for the first time fully-formed on the big screen

And this is fascinating because the Chinese government is very controlling about the media content that its citizens consume. There is a de jure quota on the number of foreign films admitted per year - currently 34 - and the State Council has banned entire areas of subject matter from appearing on its nations screens, e.g. time travel which critics speculate is to deter oblique commentary on current political affairs and/or fantasies of changing the fate of the nation. Homosexuality is also banned in Chinese media, leading films like Bohemian Rhapsody to become borderline incoherent in the wake of edits. Even cleavage has become restricted. Lastly, China has cracked down on "the promotion of Western lifestyles", noting that all programming must comply with Chinese Communist Party ideology. Yet somehow they've let the biggest film series in their country be about the heroic "Captain America", paragon of moral virtue, standing up to tyrants and despots, championing the dignity of the individual over the cold utilitarian calculus of the villain

I kept tossing these thoughts around my head as I watched little Thai boys run around with Captain America branded red white and blue squirt guns during the Songkran water festival. You could not dream of a more successful global propaganda campaign than what Disney has stumbled upon completely by accident (the Avengers films are largely the result of Marvel selling off its more popular characters e.g. Spidey, X-Men, etc during a rough financial period). And it's gotten to the point where these films are globally too popular to block; the very last thing Xi wants is to incentivize millions to get in the habit of bypassing party censors over something as trivial as a superhero flick

Which raises the question of exactly how far these films can go before encountering pushback from state censors. Iron Man 3 - starring, in RDJ's egotistical, alcoholic, womanizing, career capitalist Tony Stark, probably the exact antithesis of the attitudes the Chinese Communist Party is trying to inculcate in its citizenry - had a villain that was literally called 'The Mandarin' based on a yellow peril character devised during the Cold War, and was China's second highest grossing film of 2013. Now, granted, the cinematic version sidestepped the issue by making the character a blonde Anglo - as well as adding special Chinese only scenes in an attempt to appease cinema's fastest growing market. But what about when Disney won't budge on matters the CCP can't stomach? After recent rumblings about bringing an LGBT superhero to the screen - as is promised in Star Wars and Harry Potter franchises, as well - will China and similarly minded governments face a reckoning? As I see it their choices are A) entirely capitulate to Western values pervading their media; B) begin more aggressively blocking Western films, angering their citizens and corporations; or C) rely more and more heavily on Bohemian Rhapsody -style cuts in perpetuity, ushering in a future best defined by a hapless cgi animator editing in digital pants at the behest of some bureaucrat, frame by frame, forever

#propoganda still doesn't work #but people act like it does so these are interesting dynamics to discuss

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