#anyway the movie is less fuck the rich and more what about the deep desire to fuck the rich

[surprisearson]

The main critique I've seen leveraged at Saltburn is that is falls short of its message of "eat the rich". But like...I never saw it as as that. Saltburn (to me) is steeped in a specifically English class context of nobility. There is this gap that cannot be bridged. Oliver throughout the movie has this deep frustration that he does not permanently belong in the sphere of Saltburn. Multiple people specifically goad him with this fact. Oliver is privileged by most people's standards, but it isn't enough. It's not eat the rich as they're all terrible its eat the rich as consuming them, absorbing them, licking the plate clean. The film came across as less a class critique and a hornier knives out but rather a psychological horror story about desire and not being able to have what you want the most. Oliver will never belong truly at Saltburn. Oliver despite worming his way into the family never has physical intimacy with Felix. It's not skewering the rich, it's commenting on the deep desire to inhabit their skin.

#the critique that the cattons arent unlikable drives me insane #they arent bad because theyre individually bad people. thats the point. if you couldnt critique the rich because theyre nice and charming #well we wouldnt get very far #anyway the movie is less fuck the rich and more what about the deep desire to fuck the rich #saltburn

[strideofpride]

DAIR APPRECIATION WEEK 2021 DAY ONE: Why do you love Dan and Blair?

I broke down what I love about Dan and Blair into five parts under a read more below. The tldr is: their compatibility, their parallel arcs, their slow burn, the larger message it would've given GG if they were endgame, and finally their mature, adult relationship (aka "pure and simple love").

Warning: I basically wrote a fucking essay lmao. Cited my sources and everything.

I. Compatibility

Dan and Blair have great chemistry sure, but they have something that I don't think any other pairing on the show really had: common interests. They were pseudo-intellectuals who could talk about books, literature, art, etc. with each other ("Dan and I have a real connection. We did things like visit the Dia and debate Charbol versus Rohmer..."). And I know in TV world all anyone cares about is chemistry, but in the real world the key to a long lasting relationship is common interests.

And yet they are also still an opposite attracts pairing, just in the best way, where they are opposite in personality and background, but still share lots of common interests. Blair was the rich mean girl from the Upper East Side and Dan the "poor" loser from Brooklyn, but they still can relate to one another, they can still find stuff to talk about together, they still come to enjoy each other's presence and friendship.

And back to their chemistry: it isn't steamy chemistry 100% all the time (although they can certainly go there). Their's is a sweet chemistry, a chemistry where it's clear that they respect each other, that they know each other on a deep level, that they understand each other more than anyone else. It's a chemistry that you believe could lead to a satisfying marriage one day.

And I know I've said this before, but to me Dan and Blair are just soulmates.

II. Parallel Arcs

I am such a sucker for when two characters' life journeys parallel one another and Dair had that in spades. In season 1 especially, they were both dealing with the abandonment of a parent (Dan's mom/Blair's dad), they both lost their virginities and entered into sexual relationships with much more experienced partners (Serena & Chuck), and they both had their sights set on one school (Yale & Dartmouth - although come season 2 this became Yale for Dan, giving them even more in common).

I've also already talked on here about how you can parallel all of their other romantic/sexual relationships to one another, as well as how they both were abandoned by their best friends sophomore year. And, they both have a bad habit of going back to the same person over and over again (again, Serena & Chuck).

To me, Dan and Blair are almost narrative foils. Dan's relationship with his father starts out pretty solid but deteriorates over time - Blair's relationship with her mother is the exact opposite. Dan pines, while Blair loves to live in denial. Blair sees her life as a movie, Dan sees his life as a novel.

And that makes it all the more satisfying to see them come together, to learn to appreciate their differences, to accept their similarities, to see them grow together (albeit briefly) over seasons 4 and 5.

III. Slow Burn

A lot of people on here use this word incorrectly. If the characters kiss during season 1 (unless it’s under false pretenses) it’s not a slow burn! But Dan and Blair are a true slow burn (whether or not that was intentional).

From that hallway scene in 1x04, it's clear that Dan and Blair have a deeper connection and understanding of each other than they are letting on. We get brief glimpses into that in 1x15, 2x08, 3x18, and 3x22. All of that very slow build up makes it all the more satisfying when they become friends in season 4.

I truly think the W arc is the best written arc of the entire show. You very slowly see them accept their common interests, grow to begrudgingly respect one another, even begin to accept that there might be an attraction there. It never feels rushed, when they kiss in 4x17, it's earned (I use this word a lot - buckle in).

And then, yeah, the Louis arc was fucky (I stand by that they should've kept the love triangle Dan vs. Chuck, or Dan vs. Louis, all three was too much). But Dan standing by Blair through everything she went through that season was beautiful, to see her depend on Dan in her darkest moments, to see her realize that he's the one who will always be there for her...it just really, really worked.

And so that moment when Blair finally calls him "Dan" to his face, when it becomes clear they are finally going to be together...it's one of the single most satisfying moments in the entire show. Because, again, it was earned.

IV. Larger Message

As this video essay posits, the showrunners were left with a choice after the 2008 economic recession: "Either adjust to the times or lean further into an escapist fantasy where extreme wealth is the status quo...and lean they did. For the sake of providing their audience with an escape, the dark underbelly of extreme affluence became the show's core theme. The more it began to sell cynical opulence as standard escapism, the more the writers and fans turned on the less wealthy characters."

Furthermore, by revealing Dan as Gossip Girl, "It transitions him from pretentious soft boy to borderline sociopath, actively ruining the lives of his friends, family, and crush just to get a foothold in Upper East Side society. And then the show did something it had seldom deemed to do for a less wealthy character: it rewarded him...And thus, the show presented us with the most insidious message of all: wealth, privilege, and power corrupt...and that's okay."

By having Chuck & Blair and Dan & Serena as endgame, GG became one of the most cynical shows on the planet, where (to quote Constance Grady) "all relationships are transactional".

But yet: "The sole bright spot in the midst of this cold universe in which relationships are bought and sold like real estate came in the form of Blair’s brief season four romance with Dan...it marked the last hurrah of the first version of Gossip Girl: In a world in which money is so powerful that it makes romantic relationships indistinguishable from prostitution, Dan and Blair were working to create an authentic, meaningful bond outside of the influence of wealth and privilege."

If Dan and Blair had been endgame (and Dan hadn't been GG - although we all know that one is bullshit anyway), it would've been a rebuke to that ideology, it would've shown that there is more to a good marriage than a shared tax bracket, that a genuine connection is more important than wealth and privilege. That abuse does not equal love.

But alas, that was not the story they wanted to tell I guess.

V. Mature, Adult Relationship (aka "Pure & Simple Love")

I am personally not much of a fan of grand romantic gestures. I often find them shallow, childish, and showy. To me, it is far more romantic for Dan to have secretly written a book about Blair, for Blair to submit Dan's article to Vanity Fair, for Dan to say "it wouldn't to me" when Blair asks if it would matter if she was pregnant with another man's child (especially since this moment is (take a shot here), you guessed it, earned - we know he's being honest because we already saw him do this with Milo).

Now, I am personally not as much of a fan of the Met Steps moment as everyone else (Blair's desire to be royalty is probably the thing I like least about her), but that was probably Dan's grandest romantic gesture and yet...it's still so simple. It's really just a plastic tiara and a cab ride. Which is what makes it so beautiful. Because it's not about the money or the extravagance or showing off to anyone else...it's about Dan showing Blair he truly knows her. And to me, that's the healthiest way to do a romantic gesture.

I also love their bad sex arc in 5x18 because a) it's real - most real world couples don't have earth shattering sex the first time together, it takes time to learn what your partner likes and needs and b) because they actually (after getting drunk at Dorota's & Nate's) communicate about it and work out their problem like adults.

Because that's the thing about Dan and Blair - it's a real adult relationship. It's not a never-ending game of cat and mouse, it's not a fallback, it's not a bad habit...everything else just melts away when they're together. They grew and changed together...they learned to put aside their prejudices and see each other beyond their facades. They became better people together. They always had someone they knew they could turn to.

And that's what true love is supposed to be.

#I hope this is coherent #people will deserve a medal for actually reading the whole thing #dair #gossip girl #dairaw21 #dan x blair #dan humphrey #blair waldorf #gg meta #otp: dan loves me for me

[werezmastarbucks]

amalfi

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 1751

They were probably going out of their minds with worry out there. Even Damon must have already started feeling guilty. God knows what that monster Kai Parker could do with you in the prison world, where he had no other thing to play with, but you.

The sea air was sweet and salty, warm, and your lungs were breathing slowly for you, as you took deep pockets of it through your nose. You knew you couldn’t get healthier even if you spent the whole time at Mar Tirreno. It was rather frustrating that all the time you spent in the sun, warming up and bathing in the lovely May rays, you wouldn’t change a bit because your whole organism was on the loop, too. 

You were going through the CDs again. There were very clear, understandable rules in this world: for instance, never run out of music. You couldn’t function without music. It soothed Kai well, and it made driving everywhere easier. He wasn’t joking when he said he wouldn’t get behind the wheel unless there was a dire need. For that, he cooked.

He cooked so well. All the dishes you didn’t know the names of, he was eager to show off his talent of many years of training. He made food so good you wondered how a heartless person is capable of putting so much soul into it. He even taught you how to cook something, which was a big achievement. 

“Trash. Trash. Trash”, you chanted to yourself, throwing them out of the window. It was such a satisfying feeling to throw something out of the window of a car, even when you weren’t moving. You had to remind yourself though, that, once you get out, it would be littering. Here, nobody gave a shit. The planet didn’t give a shit. It did not acknowledge your presence, it wasn’t aware of you two quietly moving around its surface. It was hybernating. 

Kai was pondering on something, standing on the edge of the cliff. The sights here were beyond words. All the way to the horizon line, the light turquoise sea was calm and looked like warm lemonade. The sky was matching color, and the bright green trees shuffled nonchalantly in the lightest breeze that filled your skin and lungs. 

You’ve been arguing a little, about this and that, adjusting. The Florence fiasco left you feeling a little helpless (Kai raided the local antique library and found a spell that supposedly was used earlier for escaping from places such as this one; you’ve tried it; it didn’t work. Apparently, Bennett blood was still needed), and he wasn’t very supportive. Kai grew lazy and delighted with life like a fat cat; he didn’t even pretend anymore to be stressed out about being here. He was playing his own game of wearing you out into sleeping with him. Ever since you got here, you haven’t even kissed a single time, the shock of change, and the fact of being locked away and all. There was a certain moment when you realized you’re unable to think about romance, because you’re hybernating, too. You were searching for the way out, and pushing Kai to do the same. Although he slept with you every night, and you got quite used to him lying next to you, the unmistakable comforting heat of his body lulling you into sleep, you felt like you wanted to freeze in that moment. You felt like you were restricted by something. 

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” you suddenly realized, and turned to him. Your mouth formed an O. “Oh my god, it’s your birthday every day”.

Kai looked at you with the same look he gave you every time he thought you were being slow. Given his hyperactivity, and his sharp psychopathic mind never resting a bitching second, anybody would seem a little slow to him.

“I’m an eternal birthday boy”, he confirmed, a little sleepily, “it’s high time you start treating me accordingly”.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, starting the car. 

“You know it’s only us here, right? There’s no one to see you, or stop you, to judge you”, he said, cryptic as hell. The road was smooth, the asphalt glistened with heat, gliding car feeling its wheels like they were blades on ice. You went bananas and carjacked a 911 Carrera S for this place. This whole Italian vibe made you feel like you were incredibly rich. Life was sweet like shave ice with strawberry syrop soaking it through. You still waited for the other shoe to drop... looking at Kai, sometimes you thought, what if it never does? He’s crazy. His world is crazy. What if it’s not supposed to be bad here with him?

“I’m aware of that”, you replied.

“You don’t have to pretend”, Kai concluded, “you can admit whatever you feel for me. Sooner or later you’ll end up on my dick anyway. We like each other, it’s a fact”.

Your hands squeezed the wheel as you stared in front of you. Kai had a point. There was mutual attraction. 

There was mutual need, too.

“Maybe I do have to pretend”.

“What for?”

He tried to seem dispassionate, but you knew he was impatient. Kai Parker was a very impatient person. If he got to the car first, he’d always scream to make you move quicker. He knew there was no hurry whatsoever, but he hated to wait. He yelled at stoves. He cursed at traffic lights even though you obviously ignored them all. Just the sight of a red light pissed him off. 

Now, he had to be patient to get to the third base. He was somewhat cunning about it; his night embrace was a little more than just a cuddle. 

“We’re here less than a month. Who knows how long more it’s going to be? I mean, we can’t get bored at once, you know?”

Kaik blinked, processing.

“Right, princess. You want entertainment?”

You didn’t like the tone of that.

Perhaps the way he said it scared you enough to give you a nightmare.

You dreamt you walked down your street in Mystic Falls. It was so atypically dark your skin crawled. You didn’t hear them, but you could feel vampires were around you. They were not usual vampires, like Damon and Stefan - human, friendly, diverse and nice looking. They were monsters from 80s fantasy filled horrors, with long saliva dripping fangs, and, most importantly, demonic. An old feeling of supernatural presence, which startled you at night when Kai attempted to save you by killing you, once again made you freeze with horror. 

You walked faster, trying to get away, and praying for light. Not a single street light was on, you couldn’t even see it. The blackness was thick and absolute, and you knew you’d be attacked any second. Fear was physical in this one, stinging you, making it hard to move your feet. You tried running and stumbled upon something, falling on hard ground. Before you managed to get up, you felt somebody leaning over you, breathing down the back of your head. You were trapped. 

You woke up and stared into the darkness, expecting a painful bite. You’ve been bitten by vampires before. It was very painful, but you couldn’t imagine what it would feel like this time.

Trying to figure out where you are, just like always, you were afraid to move an inch not to produce a sound. Slowly, you moved your fingers, then your shoulders, and started feeling the weight of the blanket on you. You heard the sea. You exhaled through your nose and rolled on your back to see the empty bed. 

“Kai?” you whispered. You sat up and grouped, holding onto your knees. It’s always like that with nightmares; they go, and you stay in them. Brain knows the room is empty, but the mind is still captivated. You still expect them to jump out of the closet. And of all people, Kai Parker must be the one to save you. Why?

“Kai!” you called, irritated. Why the fuck, of all nights he pushes you almost off the bed with his invasive hugs, he’s not there exactly tonight, when you need human warmth to get your head straight. 

“KAI!”

The door opened slowly. He was standing in complete darkness, wide awake.

“What is it?”

You were silent for some time. Admitting your vulnerability to him would be about the last threshold. You’d have to completely love each other after this. You wouldn’t be able to let him go. It all now depended on how he’d react. 

“I had a nightmare”.

He walked towards the bed slowly, sat down and offered his shoulder. He always hugged you in this wide gesture, which he probably saw in a movie. It was a commercial dad hug, wide swing of an arm which then rested around your shoulder. The only times he felt humanly close was when he was clinging on you at night.

He settled on the pillows, bringing you close, and you finally let the air out with relief.

“You still get spooked?” he asked with surprise.

“Yes”.

“What was it about?”

“Vampires”.

He hummed. 

In this night calm, you were close enough to hear something beat in his chest. You asked yourself what curious chain of events made you end up together with this interesting individual. What comes out of it. 

His hand rested on your bare shoulder, fingers drawing uneven circles absently. He seemed a bit distant but he liked touching you. You could still smell your own perfume on his shirt from the day. You got that fragile desire to kiss him, to rub your face on his neck, to be close to him. 

“We’re really completely alone here”, you said.

“Yeah”.

“How did you know Bonnie and Damon came?”

“I felt it, I’m a witch after all”.

“How can you be sure there aren’t any beasts here? Something goes wrong, aliens slither into this dimension. Some chthonic monster. Some ancient spirits. Your own double, or demons. Or something”.

“It’s an empty place, Y/N, I just know it. I have been everywhere around, and I didn’t find anyone. I’d be happy to meet a chthonic monster even. But we are tremendously alone”.

At this moment the hug tightened because you brought him closer. 

“But I like it here with you”, he added, “it’s not that bad. People are boring anyway”.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine

[tinycaprisun]

a song not about love

title: a song not about love characters: chuck taylor x trent beretta word count: 1864 part: 1/1 warnings: mild cursing, no character names are said (but the perspective is alluded to be chuck’s and the “best friend” is trent) a/n: hi! so, holy crap i’m actually doing this... i know, it’s freaking me out too. i guess for context, yesterday i literally did not sleep at all and in a 5 am sudden burst of energy, this little fic came out of my brain. i’ve never posted my work online before, so this is kind of a big thing for me? also, this is so different from how i normally write because there is next to no dialogue, and it’s not, uh... funny? but it sure is something ahah

He won’t say it. That one fucking word that has been tormenting him for what feels like his entire life. He will not under any circumstance say it, or hell, even feel it. It sets you up for failure, for a gashing claw directly to your heart as it punctures and plays with what little you have left.

It’s like that song from Hercules, he thinks. The one where Meg is singing by the fountains about her feelings for Hercules and denying them every step of the way. It feels like that, except the brunette knows this isn’t some sappy Disney movie. This is real life, the one that made him hate himself every time he looked in a mirror. The one that gave him no other option to cope with everything that swirls in his mind at blinding rates than to drown what he does have away. 

Words were never his strong suit, with him always clinging to actions and movement, as more often than not, his mouth would betray him with what would come out of it. 

There’s this burning sensation, festering deep under his skin, well into the flesh, that tingles and jumps no matter what he does. It gets worse when he’s around. Not that he would know it, his friend was never good at picking up on just about anything. Itching, almost, with him unconsciously rubbing his arm over and over trying to forget that was where he had last touched him. A congratulatory pat, and that was it.  

The thought of already being dead crosses his mind. That perhaps, he is already dead, and that what he is living now would be his own personal hell. Set up explicitly to torture him for the wrongdoings of when he was alive. He wonders what that life was like, and if the people he knew now were there. That gave him no solace, as even if he were still living, there would still be his best friend there ruining it all.

Ruin in the best way possible, he amends. Because without him, the brunette can’t picture his life in any capacity. There would be none as far as he is concerned. There was so much of him that did not have, that lived in his friend.

Someone a long time ago said they were soulmates. Platonic, he assumed at that moment, was what the man meant. All this time later, he knows what he was getting at. He won’t say it, he never will, but he knows why the other man said it. That memory liked to crawl into his brain sometimes, replaying like a song you have stuck in your head until you can’t take it anymore and finally listen to it. It does not ease your pain, the song is still stuck. 

Soulmates were someone that housed all of the pieces of you that you did not have. The parts of you that you could fully - the word - because they were in someone else. Maybe that was why he liked keeping his friend around all the time. Because they were the same person.

Except they weren’t. His only slightly shorter friend was better than him at literally everything, not that it bothered him. It just made for more to... This was getting harder and harder to not say by the ever so slowly ticking seconds.

His mind takes over again. Blocking him even farther from reality than he already was, to think.

It’s the way he smiles, he ponders. But only when it’s at him. Tiny, unguarded, and sweet like pineapple fluff. Adoration is always in there too; along with warmth, and if he himself was feeling extra in his own head, intense longing. He silently prays for the last one. Never has been sure why, but he hopes with everything he’s got, that it’s in there somewhere.

What was longing? Catching his eyes across the room as they sparkle under even the dingiest of LED lights? They’re brown, like rich earth that used to be beneath their feet when they would do an outdoor show. Exposed from years of treading, letting others walk upon it without question, working down to its most basic form. It’s very core. He decides that him and the earth aren’t so different.

There is no reason to be like this. So deep into his own recesses that even the most forceful of tactics will not rouse him. Akin to a coma, however his eyes are certainly still working and there is definitely a concerned friend staring at him through their own pair of sunglasses and a neutral expression. 

He says something, slow and quiet like he usually does. It does not compute. His friend says it again. He cannot speak, but he can shrug while moving his gaze to stare past him.

It’s radiant over there, a shining oasis asking to have its glory basked in. Unsurprisingly, it’s him. Recognition helps bring back his question. Longing is time. All of it wasted, even if there is still so much to go. No mercy is given to him, not that he believed he deserved it.

His mind jitters and trails off again as it usually does. It’s his voice, he considers. Peering at him would make you guess it’s low and gritty, but he knows far better than that. His voice is of a baritone, but it’s far too uplifting and sometimes outright high to be anything else. Smooth also felt applicable, calmly finding its way to the right words and pitches as his hands say what his mouth can’t. He really enjoys that quality about him.

Reality is boring, he concludes. Sinking back into his cave of wonders and mostly misfortunes he calls his brain. He has his muse of which to think about... again, and the brunette couldn’t be any more content.

Content is the wrong word. Again, he is no good with those, but he does know that content is something he will never be. His is different though, for a reason he will not say. Fuck, are we really back to thinking about longing? For a third time? Is this what he wanted; to be caught in an infinite time loop, ala Groundhog’s Day, where he relives every thought he’s had for the millionth consecutive time? 

To be fair, that was how it always was when he saw him. Everything surfacing at the same time and he gets caught in the crosshairs, winning the wonderful luxury of wading through them again. 

His laugh is nice. His hair looks good today. The tank top he has on is way too tight fitting and leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Not hard to imagine anyways, he’s seen it a thousand times, having roamed it with his hands. But only briefly, and the idea sends him into a tizzy.

One that marks the end, the one that finally has snapped him and made him have a new goal. It’s like drowning again, except not in his usual Crown. This is one where he actually can’t breathe, unable to get above water safely and take those precious gulps he so desperately desires.

He is standing in front of him now, fueled by this very known force that has a known name that managed to carry his battered body to the other side of the room, without him even noticing. There is no one else in the room. Or maybe there is, but he can’t tell. For him, it’s only his friend and himself, which is all he could ever want.

His best friend asks him how he is. He does not answer. The other brunette seemed vaguely alarmed by this, commenting on this fact and letting the notion hang in the air. There is no true reply, not to what he is asking nor to anything else. They stand in silence, pressure building and concern rising, like a dam that’s about to burst open and destroy everything in its wake.

Being forward has always been his calling card. Breaking any tension or an awkward silence with little tact and a lot of bluntness. He’s rough around the edges, as are most things in his life. 

This one comes off as a cliff though, hurtling himself off of it and waiting until he hits the bottom. But there is none, all there is- is his best friend, still concerned for his well being, because of course he was. Did he really need another reason? 

Now there was even less reason to be cautious. If he didn’t say something now, the brunette was going to faint, the lights behind his green eyes going out like the flickering flames of a candle. Where he would drop, essentially dead to the world, straight to the floor and live there for eternity. Or until his friend kneeled down and checked on him.

That idea… The thought of waking up to his face. Seeing him tending to him because for his friend, life seemingly depended on it. But he didn’t know that. What he did know was that the thick and uncomfortable quiet that had filled the room; reminiscent of a smog like haze, was becoming unbearable. 

Caution. Wind. Blunt. Do it. He has to. He will explode if he doesn’t. His best friend is staring at him with what feels like baited breath and stitched brows. He looks completely mental, clearly needing to say something, anything really to amend the situation. At this point it doesn’t matter, he’s so gone for him that even if this irreparably damages their relationship, he would at bare minimum be rewarded with getting real sleep at night.

His mouth opens on its own accord, letting the words waterfall out nearly unceremoniously as he keeps eye contact with his friend.

“I’m in love with you.” 

He says it. 

The one fucking word that has been tormenting him for what feels like his entire life. He says it out loud, to his best friend’s face, with a few words before and after it. Sure, he could say that they don’t matter as much to this whole ordeal he got himself into, but truly, they make up the full saying that has been playing on loop on his head for months. 

His friend doesn’t react, not instantly, staring at him with a blinking gaze as either his brain self-destructs, or tries to figure out a way to let him down easy. Heavy doubt sinks into his bones, weighing him down and taking residence within him. 

It’s a new, hellish, spiraling sensation that the brunette was not ready for. He was used to his usual downward hole of thoughts, usually brought about by his unmitigated need to bash himself, but this… This feeling didn’t even compare, with it being so much more destructive and raw, it opened him up like he was a frog being dissected and leaving him vulnerable to the world.

He finally speaks, his words soft and slightly timid as he can’t seem to look away from him. Unlike what he was expecting, his friend's expression was open and understanding, albeit still taken aback by his forwardness.

“I… I love you too.”

#chuck taylor #trent beretta #chuckie t #trent? #no real names #aew fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #shut it liz #tinycaprisun writes #my writing #chuck tea #trenty b #fics #current song: why not me

[twiststreet]

As a guy, the dark q. is: am I really any different, but for opportunity? In hindsight, I've been in positions of power/influence over young women and haven't abused it (or thought of it), but (a) then again I never had the power of someone who wrote Hellstorm or midlist Hunter S Thompson fanfic, (b) I was otherwise a shithead in my 20s (and 30s!) & (c) back then I definitely walked past some hostile-environment-to-women stuff, I've been a bad "ally" and not part of the solution, so... (cont.)

It’s an interesting thought, and I’be lying if I didn’t say I’d circled it in my head, as (a) equally a powerless person who has never been so “tempted” (including those times I had exploitable underlings, clients, etc.) (b) am presently a bad “ally” (at least in that there are "the correct” opinions people have that I don’t hold, say), and (c) I’m a shithead now, today, definitely.  I’m a middle aged man, and as such, have plenty of weird baggage and ultra-weird interests to feel guilt and shame over-- the shame’s the fun part!  

Tangent: (I don’t want to get pegged though?  I feel like anytime I go too deep online lately, I’m picking up that, like, Gen Z or early millennial boy-girl relationships involves a lot more of the girls pegging the boys than it did when I was a kid...?  Maybe I’m just looking at the wrong hashtag.

But if a girl my age was like “wild”, it’d be like, okay, toys, bondage, tongue piercings, ecstasy, whatever, as long as you don’t have to listen to Dave Matthews just play along, and if a girl in her early 30′s, okay, she’s putting a finger in your butt, sure, fine... but if I feel like a girl who’s 20 right now says she’s “wild” to a boy, that boy better be down to get his brains fucked out with a strap-on cause that word just means something else now?  I’m too vanilla for that (even though I think you’re probably way less likely to have to listen to DMB).  I mean, I’m sure it was happening with my age group too, but in terms of statistical frequency, my gut says there’s been a spike-- a hunch, an intuition, call it what you will. All I know is I just don’t think I want to get pegged... As it is, I’m already like “awww I’m too old to know what double texting is”, I’m really feeling my age lately, and it’s like... I don’t know-- modern romance, you know... I mean, that’s a reason not to groom right there, if you ask me, the young people and all the pegging I assume is going on, but different strokes...)

The thing that makes me think I wouldn’t be in the Ellis kind of trouble (and let’s note the little renaissance today of “Brian Wood really was bad tho” because jeeeesus christ that fucking piece of fucking shit)... I don’t think I get off on power...?  I like just want to make out and then apologize a lot for being bad at making out, and for the girl to be like “No, this will be a funny story for my friends, keep going” (ladies).  I don’t want to like “Exert My Power” or “Feel Dominant” or whatever.

Like, I don’t know where that comes from but I don’t think you get that automatically with fame.  I mean, there’s a certain acting out-- I remember when I moved to LA, the thing celebs were doing was jerking off in front of club girls-- there were these articles about how that was the hot thing in LA celeb clubs.  (This was pre Louis CK, this was pussy posse era LA).    But pussy posse was having so much sex they were bored of pussy, and also they were showing off for like Tobey Maguire or that guy who did magic tricks where he held an ice cube in his hand for a long time.  The Ellis thing just seems different.  

I mean, but do I have like a darkness in me, like... because of like... “toxic masculinity” or whatever else?  I dunno. The “never been tested” part does nag.  Do I have Ellis’s thing inside of me-- like... “this isn’t sex-- this is revenge” or whatever?  That’s a wild question to even ask yourself.  I’d hope the answer is no.  I think I know myself enough that it wouldn’t be in my Top 5 list of things to do though, if i ever got famous. Though, one time I did tell a famous movie director (long story) that if I ever got super-rich and famous, I’d just go on a sexual victory lap “because I’d have a won and would deserve that as a reward” and just start having sex with all different kinds of people-- boys, girls, tables, chairs, quadruplegics, the blind, the deaf, burn victims, etc.  His response was “I thought this guy was going to tell me he liked my movies.”  It was a weird night.  (That’s actually a 100% true story).  

The harder question for me is ... what if I’d wanted a career in comics?  And I couldn’t afford enough therapy to rid me of that desire?  

Would I be Kieron Gillen, sitting there going “Well, I retweeted someone else--that’s enough of that! Time to write another 100,000 word 'writers commentary’ about my own comics”?  Would I be saying “I’ve not gone silent-- I’m listening” or whatever?  The game is the game is the game is the game is the game is the game is the game is the game is the game is the game.  As it is, there have been things I’ve known about that I just stay quiet about because I go like “well, it’s not my story to tell” and I think I’ve made right choices with all of those.  But ... 

I  can imagine playing the game.  I mean, I can’t imagine being one of those people being like “Oh the Watchmen TV show-- so important!  Such a prediction of what has happened lately!” I really genuinely think I have more fucking dignity than that.  And I’d like to think I’d have enough self-respect to not go full Molly Crabapple or Afua Richardson, and defend Ellis.  (I just don’t see much reckoning with the Cameron Stewart stuff happening, with this fun exception-- mostly people who don’t understand “lawsuits” yelling about comics journalism.  Litigation was a huge concern for everything I’ve ever written outside of this blog, anyways).  But how much would I have played the game?

I don’t know the answer to that about myself.  That’s one I don’t like thinking about so much, except just in that... I have my little projects, and I’m really happy with my projects, and that’s one of the reasons I’m really, really happy with what I’m doing with my free time instead... In summation: I enjoy myself a lot without needing to be pegged-- please don’t peg me!!

#Worst Hobby or Worstest Hobby?

[sabinefm]

( bruna marquezine , cis female , peach ) welcome to aida&stefano , SABINA REUBE ! thank you for choosing to stay here. in this form it says that you go by the SHE / HER , you’re TWENTY THREE years old , you’re originally from SAN FRANCISCO , and you’ve been staying here for ONE YEAR . it also says you’re known to be + RESOURCEFUL , but also - SELFISH. that really shouldn’t be a problem though. check in at the front , hope you enjoy your stay ! (the click of heels, hot sand under your bare feet, chocolate covered strawberries, the imprints a bra leaves on your skin, red lipstick staining your fingertips )

ABOUT THE MUN.  i hope this email never finds you 

hello all, my name is pepper and i have never been on time for anything, ever in my life sdjkdskj this is especially true today, rip. no but honestly, i never thought i would actually get accepted into this beautiful rp so i stalled checking acceptances cause i’m a Scaredy Cat and that made me really late, and then i ended up taking the rest of my coworker’s shift cause she had to go and thus ended up coming home even later than i thought which has made me really really late... BUT against all the odds i’m here! and ready to party! and tell y’all about my bby sabina! but first a little bit about me, i am twenty four (ew), i can’t cook (rip), and i currently spend most of my lonely quarantine days either watching anime or scrolling through tiktok. i am canadian but every canadian that meets me thinks i’m american and i don’t know why. when i was a child i had an irrational (or yk very rational) fear of sharkboy from sharkboy and lava girl, and tbh it has never left me. i was also afraid of gill from kim possible so you can imagine my horror when that fish f*cking movie won an oscar?? when i was younger i also thot god looked like king triton from the little mermaid cause he was white and he had a beard yk. it fit in my little brain. and finally i just recently discovered girl in red and therefore feel like i finally got my bi girl card,,, feeling validated in this chillis tonight. and if that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about me idk what will. anyways, that’s officially enough about me onto who we’re all really here for, ms sabine!

BIO.  the lengths i would go to to both get attention and avoid it... astounding  tldr ; daughter of a guy who created a dating site + app, came to a&s after leaving her husband to be at the alter after catching him cheating with her mother, wants to be a bad bitch, sometimes succeeds. 

THEN.

sabina came into the world the child of a mediocre stay at home mom and a penniless entrepreneur so it goes without saying that she had very little. her dad had a lot of passion and a lot of drive but no one would really give him a chance, and her mother kind of only married the man because she was expecting him to make it big enough for her to never have to work another day in her life so? yeah she was hella disappointed tbh 

but not sabina! she looked up to her father so much as a child. while her mom was kind of ~emotionally unavailable~ her father was too, but like at least he had a dream he believed in, yk? he wanted to help people fall in love and sabine being the big romantic she was as a child had never heard of anything so noble. her daddy was her hero. sabina honestly had big daddy’s little girl vibes until she was like 22 tkjsdkjd

one day when their family credit card got rejected one too many times sabina’s mother called it quits on yk the whole mother gig. she left sabina on a bench outside of the grocery store while she went to go home and ‘get some cash’ which even at seven sabine knew was a damn lie cause they were too broke to have any damn cash. and yeah that was the last sabina heard of her for a long ass time. it was a reverse ‘dad went to get some cigarettes’ situation but just as traumatic honestly. 

although not as much for sabine’s dad. that man literally saw his wife leaving him as a minor setback and moved on. he threw himself harder into his work, to the point where sabine barely saw him. this was the start of sabine desperately trying to compete with her father’s business for even a sliver of his attention. this was a battle she usually lost. 

sabine raised herself for a while there, since her father yk remarried his job and her mother was following the jonas brother’s cross country. she became both very independent and very lonely for a child, which was an odd combination that both haunted sabine for pretty much the rest of her life after that point and lead her to make most of her worst decisions. but that’s a story for another time, because right when all hope was lost sabine’s father won the lottery. literally. 

all at once they were five million dollars richer. they went from nothing to everything real quick. and this marked a change in the reube’s lives in a way sabine couldn’t have even imagine at the time. 

sabine’s father hector used the money to fund his business and that shit blew up! he created a site by the name of loveisblind that was in the ring with the likes of match.com and christianmingle yk, one of those dating sites. everyone on loveisblind is set up on blind dates based on the information they fill out on their profile and are only allowed to see each other when they reach a certain point of emotional intimacy. the site had wild success rates, and got very popular, blah, blah, the point was the reubes? suddenly rich af!

and you think that would give hector more time to spend with his daughter right? no. it gave hector the money to hire nannies for his daughter. 

yes, somehow despite hector no longer having to work himself to the bone, sabine saw him even less. tragic really. she really became that lonely rich girl trope real quick, and this is what unfortunately got sabine into the habit of seeking the attention she wasn’t getting from her father in other men and women, which she is not proud of. 

that unfortunately didn’t fill the void that sabine had but you know what did? making the loveisblind app so her daddy would love her. basically around the time that tinder started gaining traction and getting popular, people stopped going on the loveisblind site and started instead turning to apps. her father was trying and failing to get into that market, and sabina, being yk, actually a lot more intelligent than her father ever gave her credit for, created the app for his site and pitched it to him over his lunch one day. it was honestly one of the first times sabina can remember her father really paying attention to her in the longest time. it was also the proudest she’s ever seen him. 

the app was a big success! a whole new generation was using it and finding love, including one ms sabine reube. in the early days of the app launch sabine met her prince charming, christopher ‘kit’ johannson. he swept her right off her feet, and she fell HARD, and when they debuted their relationship it wasn’t long until they kind of became the face of the app?? like sabine’s father was the creator after all, the fact that his daughter found love on the app too was big news for a while. people followed their relationship and strived for something like that for themselves. sabine didn’t know it at the time but they were basically a walking advertisement, and her father was LIVING for that.

fast forward a bit and your girl went to yale for computer engineering and business (did her daddy’s status and money ease the way? maybe man, nepotism am i right) whilst kit went to harvard, they were long distance for a bit before they graduated and kit very publicly proposed (the whole thing was well recorded too, gotta get that gram), and then both sab and kit moved in together and both started working for their families respective companies. it was around then that sabine started to understand just how much and how often kit was cheating on her. it was a real wakeup call. 

sabine ended up breaking down to her father about her suspicions, and he basically ended up telling her to suck it up and think of the business. the fact was sabine and kit, the face of their new generation and one of the first successful couples from the app getting married and living happily ever after was amazing for the company. and the two of them calling the whole thing off just because of a little infidelity just wasn’t going to cut it. 

now once again, this is where sabine’s deep desire to be loved and accepted really bites her in the ass. this was one of the first times sabine’s father had ever really asked her for anything so... she did it. or at least she did her best to do it. she lasted until the wedding day around the time where she caught kit and her own mother (who she only invited out of a deep rooted need to actually know the woman who gave birth to her again) going at it in the coat closet of their wedding venue. yeah, at that point sabine pretty much snapped, blacked out, smashed a whole wedding cake over kit’s head, and took their honeymoon to venice on her own. she arrived at Aida&Stefano with running mascara in a ruined wedding dress trying to ask about a honeymoon suite. it was a whole mess, but you know what so is sab so at least she was on brand. 

NOW.

after sabina arrived she spent about a week mourning her failed almost-marriage and yk, destroyed family before she decided to fuck it all and reinvent herself. she desperately wanted to become someone new, someone unrecognizable from who she was before, even if it was only on the inside. so she cut her hair (the first step to every transformation) hardened everything soft about herself and made the irrevocable decision to become a bad bitch. she (mostly) succeeded. kind of. 

sabine basically curb stomped out the soft, hopeless romantic people pleaser in her and decided to become someone more unsympathetic. someone who puts her own needs first instead of burning herself up to keep others warm (cause what good has that ever done her before?). someone who people would be afraid to hurt but who wouldn’t even feel pain anyways. and to sum it up that person is a heartless bitch. or at least she tries to be.

i’m gonna stop here because this is already a lot longer than i wanted it to be and i haven’t even got to the other sections yet rip but you get the point i feel

PERSONALITY.  *feels nothing* mmm, don’t like that *feels something but like too much* mmm not a fan of that either 

most of this is tbd because i’m still developing her but

VAIN. the kind of girl who will file her nails or check herself out in the mirror while you’re talking to her. will reapply her lipstick in the rearview mirror of her car while she’s driving. checks herself out in any reflective surface, i mean i would too if i looked like bruna but Still 

KIND. even though sab tries to be a hard ass she’s probably the most loyal, generous, kind person you would ever meet deep down. like she puts on this persona of being heartless, but if anyone needs her she will be there for them. kind of hates that she’s such a softie sometimes but she can’t help it. 

EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE. doesn’t want to be hurt again and will do pretty much anything to avoid that. tries to keep people at arms length especially romantically. loves making friends though, and will indeed spoil them. 

HEADCANNONS.  who wants to hire me as their maid i’m not gonna clean im just gonna wear a cute maid outfit dust like 6 things and bend down a lot

has the vibes of that drunk rich aunt that’s always smoking like sexily as she looks far into the distance and wears like a super luxurious coat. will gossip with you. will buy you things your mom won’t. will cuss out your toxic father at the dinner table. that’s her energy.

unfortunately actually does smoke. i hate 

okay fun fact, the only reason sabine went to university for computer programming and business was because she felt her father wanted her to. she honestly has no real passion for the subject and just wanted to use her talent to make her father as proud of her as he was on the day she debuted that app to him. but now that making daddy proud isn’t like the only thing occupying her entire brain sabine like is like ??? wait what do i actually want to do with my life ??? and it took her a while to figure it out but after a while she fell back on one of her passions, art. she’s actually making a graphic novel aimed towards young adults about a modern day hades and persephone vibe, kind of about a girl who falls in love with the grim reaper and the lengths she goes to to chase after her (yes it is a Lady Reaper) into the depths of hell,,, it’s wild. she’s very proud of it but also kind of shy about it tbh. her go to critic is georgio, because she knows that little shit will be honest and yk what she respects that. 

but when it comes to making actual money your girl turns to cam work most of the time, because well. at the very least it’s quick, easy, and semi discreet. and sometimes she gets something out of it too. she figures it’s a win win, and she’s been doing it for about a year now, mostly because she absolutely refuses to use any of her father’s money. 

is allergic to cucumber. 

has a different 'relationship’ like every week or so, along with a few one night stands peppered in. unfortunately still attracted to people who are bad for her (kit for example was an asshole and a cheater and DEFINITELY conservative like she messed up on that one), but is also very afraid of falling in love again and letting herself get hurt, so she normally doesn’t let things last too long before she starts self sabotaging. 

if you ever catch sabine with like... her nails growing out or her nail polish chipped, something is wrong. like something is deeply wrong. sabine will have her nails done in the middle of the apocalypse, the only reason they would be less than perfect is if she is having a breakdown. always has colour on her nails, and usually it’s a shade of red, purple, or black. 

always has wild ass stories to tell about her tinder dates or one night stands and will tell them without shame for your entertainment. is a great storyteller honestly, a talent she got from her mother but she doesn’t want to admit that. 

fun fact, her mother mariah was PISSED when hector got rich AFTER she left him and tried for years to sue him or something but no dice. she was so angry and vengeful over the whole thing that she took the opportunity of being invited to her daughters wedding to get back at her husband where it hurt, his business. thus sleeping with kit. didn’t really think about how her daughter might feel about the whole thing because she was yk blinded by rage, but that’s just how mariah is so i mean,,, rip sabina. 

shops when she’s sad, or happy, or angry, or confused sdkjdsj will use any excuse to shop, and at this point she has more clothes than she knows what to do with. her style can be kind of out there at times, but she will let you borrow things though. 

she has a cat named momo. yes that is inspired by her being the peach skeleton. also has a parrot named poe i think. i also have the urge to give her a snake but... i will resist. so sabine wants a snake for sure 

her favourite colours are black and red

she is a horrible terrible driver. don’t drive with sabine unless you’re an adrenaline junkie or like want to die tbh 

her dad 100% set up the relationship between kit and sabine as a pr stunt, but sabine doesn’t know that yet and when she finds out her father used her like that ooh boy things are gonna get wildt. as it is now sabine just thinks she disappointed him and it’s kind of eating her alive. half the reason she’s staying here is because she doesn’t want to face him or yk her old life anymore. her father is so caught up in the shame she caused him that he hasn’t even tried to call her after the whole thing and the one time sabine got hella drunk and called him all he did was tell her what a disappointment she was and ask when she was coming back to work so we love ~parenting~

WANTED CONNECTIONS. girls will “🥺🥺🥺🥺” their way out of everything

close friends please and thanks, best friends also please, uh, can i get some awkward one night stands that avoid each other at all cost, can i get a neighbour who’s ear sabine is always talking off in the hallway between their rooms even tho they just want to go home but can’t because sabine is Oversharing, maybe a flirtationship, but also i would love an enemy (it could be for a ridiculous reason or a completely valid reason but either way please give it to me), someone she goes out dancing/partying with at piccolo, a sibling like relationship, a confidante, someone who she trusts to read her comic and maybe even do some linework, and absolutely anything else okay my brain is fried rn but i want it all! please like this and i will slip and slide into your dms <3

#ostellointro #me: *sees a nice neat intro at an appropriate length* I Want To Do That #this monstrosity: bitch you thot

[unikornu]

Page 2 - Initiation - Pre-war memories of Lucy Feit

The month passed since Lucy worked along with Harrison on nasty or weird cases that logic explanation was barely to be found there but gladly Harrison was already an expert on that and Lucy was open minded for even the craziest possibilities. At first he would wish to muzzle her snarky and uncareful mouth when asking questions around the crime scenes but eventually she got some of his words seriously and tuned down her attitude. He couldn’t blame her, being young and with less care than ever before, laying low enough just to keep her head on the neck.

Harrison became eventually like a mentor to her, a bit rough in his approach but it kept her impulsive nature at check. She had trust in his experience and she felt that behind his tough and roughed skin lies a softer man who just got highly disappointed at some chapter in his life and threw it all away just to do things his own dirty way.

- Sir, i finished the report. I came up with something since...idea of a robot looking exactly like our suspect feels a bit...off. She snapped a paper from a machine and handed it to Harrison.

Her desk was placed behind the wall sharing the room in his office and he even gave her the same comfortable leather chair as he had instead of these hard wooden ones since she got hooked up on a job. It was kind of big for her size but oh boy she could almost fall asleep in it when working late.

-Good job Feit. Good to see u are not a total failure afterall. He looked over the paper and added it to the rest of the records in a file. As she walked away back to her desk he took a few seconds of thought.

-Feit, come back for a second. I might have a special job for you from the Boss this time but only if you are one hundred procent sure u can pull this off. He pulled a photo and a crumbled note out of his jacket pocket.

- Really? My first real task from... down there? She was surprised that they would give her a try already but also a bit nervous.

- Consider that your trust ticket that you will be the right person for the real job. She reached slowly towards the photo but Harrison pulled it back.

- But that is serious Feit, no mistakes, no japing around, u do what you are told to do or you and me gonna have a problem. She nodded and stood placing the hands behind her back.

-Alright...this man is gonna be tonight as Sapphire night club, they already figured out his routine, where hes going, when. He somehow got his hands on a holotape with a list of some of our boys down there, today and he intends to use this. He handed her a photo of a middle aged man with a balding head, slightly more chubby. Nightmare of every secretary if that is their boss.

- I..know him. He was working few rooms away from me. Always bothering women around ugh, i never liked him. She folded a photo and slipped it in the pocket in her pants.

- That is why you gonna go tonight to that club, present yourself to a barman as a new worker and get that holotape from him, i don’t care how, just do it without him noticing. Also if u pull this off Sapphire is going to be your second base where u gonna join a girl named...Rosey on collecting data and other things we might need there. Barman, one of bodyguards and her are our people from the Boss so don’t talk to anyone else. He opened a bottle of whiskey and poured himself half a glass.

- Sapphire...isn’t that actually a strip club? You want me to be a stripper now?! She looked at him lowering a corner of her lips and squinting an eye.

- Cool down Feit, not a stripper. Rosey is already a one whore too many there. You gonna be her assistant...u know powdering her ass for a show and making sure the girls have all they need while charming the clients around and steal their shit for us, be it items or words. He took a sip talking about it as calmly as about a weather.

- I would also get used to heels and booze at your place if u gonna stick around there and i think amout of money u might get there will compensate for...struggle. He saw her smiling softy back when he mentioned a payment. She never had a chance to experience a luxury like that in her life that. Leaving her careless parents to a one room shitty apartment and climbing the ladder to a slightly more decent life. And she didn’t last long at the court neither so the smell of money was the one her nose was lurking for.

-Stop dreaming and move Feit! I want to see you with that holotape before the morning. He shooed her with a hand and came back to his files.

------

Gladly Ian was also taking a night shift so she didn’t have to come up with any excuse this time. Sapphire was a big night club placed a out of sight not very far away from the center. It had a wide parking area with tables outside and amount of neons that would give a dead one epilepsy. It was also very expensive one so only high or shady figures were coming there for a nice piece of ass and drink. And the club also respected privacy of their clients so no families even knew their husbands and wifes would lurk in such a place. Secrecy, luxury, beautiful women and money. Lucy saw one of bodyguards recognizing her and pointing with his head towards the back entrance. She took a right through narrow alley next to the building and entered the door that had a “Staff” sign written on it keeping her head low and face hidden beneath the hair.

She entered and to her surprise there was already a red haired tanned woman waiting for her, sitting on a bunch of beer boxes with a cigarette.

- They warned me you tend to be late so i lighted one. I’m Rosey. Want a smoke before the job? She pulled pack of out of her shiny bra.

- No...i should probably focus on a....actually you know what, sure. She pulled a smoke out of a pack and leaned down towards Rosey’s lighter. She had to get used with bad habits aswell if she was about to work in such a place.

- So how much u actually know about me? Lucy asked coughing a bit on a first puff.

- Enough to know that u might be just a girl for a job. Let’s go dress you up first. She stood up and guided Lucy through hallways filled with colorful rooms and lights and a smell of perfume.

- Isn’t it a bit suspicious for me to just come in here like that and work? I mean the manager doesn’t know....

- Look. She interrupted. - There is already so many girls and waitresses that anyone can barely keep up with it. And when u make this much money it tends to cover your sight on a situation. They entered her quarters. It was lighted with red and green gloomy lights, a dressing table filled with all kinds of jewelry and feathery scarfs , decorated with a huge mirror wearing a gold frame  along with a rack stuffed fully with skimpy and sparkly outfits. A room for star...but not star of movie but a strip show.

- That should fit you. And don’t forget the make up and a mask. We have a sort of carnival theme tonight. She handed her black sparkly skirt along with a fitting bra. Our target should be here soon.

- Alright, alright. Lucy took the clothes and hid behind the room screen to undress. - So what...brought u..u know, to this place and this job? She asked while pulling with all her strength the skirt on her tights jumping a bit in a process.

- Three words. Nothing-to-lose. I have no family and no one gives a shit about me anyway so i can do whatever the hell i want...and the money is good. She threw her a pair of heels that hit her in the head behind the screen.

-Ouch..good for you, i guess. At least u don’t have to lie to anyone, almost...

- Look at you, your lucky not to be a stripper or they would eat you alive. She chuckled as Lucy came out prepared, a bit stiff on the heels.

- So what’s the plan? I mean i know we are suppose to work together on this one. She spotted a bottle of booze on the table and shoved a sip down her throat to relax a bit and..to get used with yet one more bad habit as Harrison suggested her.

- Well, u go down and u just present yourself and tell him u have other special girl tonight since Tania got sick. Then i’m gonna take care of him and get that holotape and as we finish i will hand it to you. She explained as they left the room.

- Sounds too easy. Lucy pondered.

- Because it is that easy if u know how to charm...and lie..and steal shit swift enough. U will see soon enough. Rosey pushed her forward as their target entered a club.

--

Lucy pushed her breasts up and puffed her hair with hands before approaching their target.

- Mr Villin i assume? She approached man smiling with her teeth.

- Finally some service, direct me to Tania as usually honey. It’s already paid. He took a long look at her whole figure before taking the glasses off and hanging them on his pocket. He looked also high from drugs, his face all sweaty and red.

- I’m so sorry sir but Tania called in sick....but we have someone as wild and skilled as her. Please, let me direct you to her room, her name is Rosey. Lucy stroke a hair with a hand and winked at him feeling a deep disgust  inside but job needs to be done.

- Why didn’t they call me before then? Hmpf...ok fine. As they walked towards the guests private rooms he didn’t even try to hide he is staring at her ass swaying to the sides. - Aren’t u availble too honey? That ass of yours would look good on my....

- No sir, i’m making sure our girls are prepared for our every client’s desire. She interrupted before letting him finish his dirty thought and opened a door to a room where Rosey was already prepared for a private show.

- Shame...you would make a lot of money riding a rich man like me. She closed the room behind him and leaned against the wall waiting for the session to end. She could hear him calling her all the ugliest words woman could hear. 

- God..and that pig has a wife and kid. But suddenly a sound of struggle and choking reached her ears. She hesitated before peeking inside to not ruin Rosey plan but eventually looked inside.

- Get off me you fuck! He looked angry and high at the same time pushing her to the floor and choking her.

- I know what you trying to do you fucking whore! Yo..you fucking bitches are all the same. Money and dick ain’t enough for your cunt eh? He was angry and shaky from the high of drugs and booze.

Lucy shut and locked the door behind her. No one could know what's going on and they had no idea how he knew about the set up but something needed to be done and fast as he was out of control. The hatred towards this man finally found a release as she saw Rosey choking and struggling under his big cushy sweaty body. She shattered a bottle and stabbed him in the back repeatedly until he released Rosey and fell on his side. Just Lucy didn’t stop there. She sat on his chest and placed a glass shard in her both hands, shoving it down right in his throat few times. The blood spilled onto her face and chest.

- Fucking hell! Rosey grabbed a towel and covered his mouth along with a neck to not let any sounds leave his mouth while he was bleeding out. Lucy was breathing heavly and fast, frozen, the blood dripping from her hands and face. She killed someone for the first time.  

- It was not suppose to happen like that, shit shit..we need to do something. Rosey was wiping the blood from the floor aswell. Luckily there was no carpet. Something in Lucy mind shifted and her face turned from shocked to focused as she pulled herself up.

- Did he come with a car? She asked while going through dead man clothes left on a couch looking for a holotape and a keys.

-Yes, its parked right by the back entrance since front was full. Why? She clumped all the bloody towels together and looked at her.

- We..need to take him out, get him into car and drive away somewhere, get rid of the body, clothes, everything. Rosey nodded and peeked outside the room to make sure no one will see them carrying him outside. Luckly their bodyguard was not so far away so she could give the signal to distract the rest for a while.

- Fucking hell, he’s heavy. They struggled a lot but managed to pack him into his car eventually, shoving him into the back seat low enough to hide him out of the view and covering him with his clothes. They packed all the dirty towels into the baggage.

- Can you drive? Lucy asked while handing her a jacket to cover themselves a bit.

- I’m your girl. But you will have to get a license too eventually if this is how you do your bloody job. My god...he starts to stink, lets hurry. Rosey was not happy, she usually never let the plans go in this manner but she was lucky to have a backup that night.

- Thanks for help. He was bloody heavy and aggressive as fuck. Her face softened as they drove his car outside towards the nearest empty cliff.

- Don’t mention it...it was an impulse and since we will work together it would be shame to fuck it up on a first day like that eh? She wiped the blood from her face and sighted.

- You okay? I mean i know you saw blood and shit with Harrison but i don’t think you ever killed anyone before like that? Rosey looked at her with a concern.

- I’m fine...i will be fine. I mean, i know what i agreed to so..i will just swallow it and move on right? As they arrived to a cliff Lucy pulled a small gas canister and started emptying it all over the car sits and dead body.

- That’s my girl. You will be okay. Do you think tho Harrison will be angry? It kind of came out of hand. They let the car drive itself towards the cliff and crash down in a fire as it hit the rocks, burning down everything away.

- Kind of is a small word for what just happened. But how he knew? Lucy asked as they drank the rest of the whiskey that was left in a bottle they took with them.

- I have no idea but i’m glad you were there. Most important is that we have holotape and we cover all tracks from this night. Lets find a pick up and go back.

-----

Sun didn’t raise yet, it was still very early so Lucy kept her word to get the holotape to the office on time. Her face cleaned from all the make up but tired and pale from a whole night of work.

- I got the holotape and...well.. Lucy approached Harrison standing silently in his office with a back towards her.  

- You had one job Feit, get the fucking holotape and leave! He turned around abruptly grabbing her by a neck and pushing to the wall. - What the fuck happened there?!

- He somehow knew! I had no choice sir. She tried to pull his hands off for a bit of air but even with 50 years on his back Harrison was not one to joke with when shit hits the fan.

- Did you get rid of the body? Wiped evidence? He didn’t release her until he got all the answers.

-Yes! The bodyguard covered us and the barman knows so if anyone asks he came and left because Tania wasn’t available. His car is crashed and burned along with him outside of town. She fell on her knees and coughed as Harrison finally let her out of grip.

- At least that, goddamit Feit. Things never go smooth with you around. He sighted in disappointment but after a moment he offered her hand to stand up.

-But you did your job after all. Don’t take that harshly to yourself how i treat you but you two will have to be more careful. She took his hand and stood up.

- Yes sir. We will...

- And congrats kid, don’t let me down. He stuffed money roll into her hand and pat her shoulder. - Just don’t spend it all in one go will you?

She felt like stabbing this man was a final part of initiation but what meaned more to her was Harrison’s good word on a job well done. He was like a father figure to her later on that she never had any in her life, not wanting to let him down and help her evolve in this new world she stepped into.

----

Ian woke her up with a kiss on a cheek as he arrived to her apartment late in the morning. He noticed a small blood smear under her nose.

- Hey, how was your shift? Are you okay? He looked at her as she woke up a bit concerned about the tiredness on her face. Lucy pulled herself on her elbows towards him and looked him in the eyes.  She grinned and kissed him before pulling him to bed to catch few more hours of sleep.

- I have never been better my dear....

_______________________________

Note: I could say that later on Gage reminds her of Harrison a bit in terms of keeping her impulsive nature on a leash. And looking how age difference between Lucy and Gage would be around 8 years or so yeh, he does have experience and better approach to things while Lucy acts on instincts and impulses. (I have no idea how old is Gage but if i would give him in my universe 35 years Lucy would be 27). And in exchange for pistol training Rosey taught her a bit of charming skills and stealing, maybe a few dirty tricks aswell. And hell Rosey could dance indeed that’s why Lucy also likes to swing from time to time when familiar sounds hit her ear. Spending a lot of time in night clubs forced her to get used with smoking, booze and chems but Rosey had to keep an eye on her as she did tend to go over a bit too much at times. So far im happy to write this sort of shit tbh, makes my head a bit lighter from ideas.  

#fallout 4 #lucy feit #pre-war memories #lucy's diary #some violence #lucy's pre-war diary #omg this got a bit longer than i thought but i wrote what got into my head last night #more pre-war shit yay #i will certanly keep it going lol #my crap writing #gonna check for grammar too ofc so might do small edits meanwhile #i always think its all good but then i re-read and see things i didnt see before and rush to correct a letter or smth ehh

[anna-skeletons-gallery]

Joker X Teenage!Killer!Reader

Summary: You aren't a vigilante. You're just a nice teenage girl who's got supernatural powers from her necklace and who tries to survive and protect herself from the awful, disrespectful men of Gotham City by annihilating them from existence. Your inspiration was the man who started riots all over Gotham and also whom you mildly admired; the Joker. Who would have thought that he'd be slightly interested in you, though?

A/N:  Let's be honest, even if this movie doesn’t take place in the DCCU, this is still a DC character. Would it hurt if we add a few superpowers in this fanfic? I don't really think so. Also, I deadass didn’t know how to end this fanfic so I’m sorry if the ending is kinda trashy lmfao. Anyways, feel free to send me any requests y'all might have!

Warnings: Body mutilation, catcalling and public sexual harassment.

★・・・★・・・★・・・★・・・★

“And as we can see behind me, a third riot has gone loose on Wall Street this month. As for now, more people are participating than on the last two, yet there are no signs of their, so-called leader, the Joker who apparently escaped from Arkham Asylum about two weeks ago-” You turned the TV off. You didn't want it to be noticeable that you supported that type of stuff and raise suspicion from your coworkers, much less your boss. “(I don't give a fuck about what people might think of him. He's a fucking hero to me. He showed all those rich assholes what happens when you turn your back on the people that need help the most, leave them to die or just straight-up treat them like insignificant shit.)” You thought to yourself smiling while you finished mopping the floor of the restaurant you worked at. It was your closing shift today and as soon as your last chair was up the table of the restaurant and your boss left, you grabbed the front door keys, grabbed all your stuff and closed the restaurant's back and front door, you head straight to the subway.

It was a pretty chilly night, as usual. Once the subway arrived, you hopped in, put all your hair on each side of your front and put the big fluffy hoodie of your short black coat on. Although you and a strange man with a long purple coat and a black hat that covered almost his entire face were all alone in that big wagon, you didn't want to bring any attention from the next possible passengers. Unfortunately for you, that’s not what your luck had in store for you tonight. After arriving at the next station, two white, apparently wealthy and drunk men, got on the same wagon as you. You gave them a look. They looked like they got out of some kind of crazy party or club. You rolled your eyes and looked the other way, but apparently, one of them noticed your annoyance towards them and approached you.

“Hey, there! *hic* How you doin', hot-stuff? You’re lookin' *hic* real nice,” one of the sits right in front of you. God, not even the significant distance between the two of you could stop his disgusting alcohol smelling breath from going up your nostrils. “I’m sure you'd look *hic* even better in my bed all bent over. How much for one *hic* whole night, mama, huh?”

“(Ugh, men. Great.)” you think to yourself sarcastically before your eyes extend a little bit and an evil smile formed on your lips as an idea that popped up in your head. “(Wait, hold on... Oh, great!)”

“Hey, don't be rude! He’s complimenting you and asking you a question politely! At least take off that mask and show us a real smile!” the second guy says in a tone that kinda combined threatening and jokingly while sitting right next to his friend trying to touch your knee but you shove it away from his grasp. Although he wasn't as drunk as the other one, he still smelled like he took a whole shower with alcohol and you weren’t about to let a gross man who talked to you that way touch your body. At least, not yet.

You stayed calm and kept ignoring those guys in front of you until the subway stops at your station. You head out the wagon and just as expected and desired, the two men followed you while yelling at you in a failed attempt to get your attention. As soon as you saw a nice alley, you took a turn and waited for them to corner you.

“(Perfect.)” you think before leaning back on the wall of the dead end. They got closer to you. “Hmm... I’ve got nothing else to do tonight, y’know?” you say with your voice slightly high-pitched in an attempt to sound interested and completely seduced. “And to be honest, it has been a pretty boring day so far. Sooo... What do you guys think about having a little quick fun, hm? Here and now? For free, if you want.” you wrapped your arms around the neck of the least drunk guy and rubbed your left leg on his side. Both of them looked at each other like they just hit a nice big jackpot.

The least drunk one holds your leg up a bit more. “Shit! But out here?” he scoffs. “You sure about that?”

“Why not? Nobody will know. And nobody can hear us either. Now, why don't you start over here and find out what’s waiting for you?” you said pointing at your chest. The guy obeys you and unbuttons the first button of your coat revealing a pretty little rose quartz necklace. “Nice necklace,” he comments while going for the third button.  “Thanks. It's the thing that will help me send you straight to the gates of Hell.” he stops and looks at you as if you said something absurd. “What-?” Before he could even finish his question, your necklace started shining stopping his and his friend's whole body. You smiled childishly and walked back from them. This is the night they both die for approaching you inappropriately.

All it took was a small movement of your hand to lift up the two men in the air and slam them against the wall behind them. You could hear their panicked and pointless screams for help, but you stuck their lips shut so you could think of what to do with them. “Y'know? Most ladies nowadays carry pepper spray or pocket knives to protect themselves from creeps like you two. But for me? I carry something much, much better and far more interesting.” You took out a pair of surgical gloves and a long scalpel from your purse. After you put the gloves on, you took a black mouth mask with a white sharp-toothed grin print on it. You could see how the men were growing more and more terrified. You loved it. “Don't ask me how I got this shit, okay? Oh, that's right! You can't!” you started giggling at your own comment. “Don't worry. Just like you guys say to women before sex, I promise not to hurt you. I’ll be gentle with you.” still using your powers, you started unbuttoning one of the guy's white shirt and approached the scalpel to his body and started carving in his chest and torso the words he told you on the subway: ❛You'd look better in my bed all bent over.❜ His muffled screams gave you so much pleasure. His phrase was done, it was the other guy's turn: ❛At least show us a real smile.❜ “A smile...” you thought out loud. That gave you another idea. “Well, if you want a smile that badly, I can surely give you both one. And I can also make a little tribute to a certain someone.” you lowered the men a little, got face to face with them and began cutting the edges of their mouths upwards all the way to their ears to give both of them a big bloody permanent smile.

You backed up and gave them one final look to judge your work. You were proud of it. So proud you started laughing. You found their pain and suffering hilarious and delectable. You kept on laughing for a few moments until you finally calmed down, sighed and looked at the poor men who looked like they were on the verge of death. “Well, that was fun. Hopefully, this will teach you to not bother a girl because one day, you might fuck with the wrong bitch,” and with that said, you used the powers of your necklace to change into your clown costume. “and get what you fuckin' deserve.” Yes, your admiration for the Joker made you create a clown persona for yourself. After changing and letting out that last sentence, you cut the guys' wrists all the way up to their forearms making them bleed out and slit their throats twice. You wanted to be the last thing they see before dying. Once you made sure they were undoubtedly dead, you let them fall down from the wall on the dirty water from the alley.

Suddenly, a burst of laughter made you turn your face to the entrance of the alley just to find the strange man from the subway slowly taking his big coat and hat off, revealing a very unexpected surprise: the Joker. He threw his coat and hat on the dirty floor as if he could just get new ones with the snap of his fingers, and proceeded to walk towards you while applauding you slowly. Once he shortened the distance between the two of you he spoke “Well, that certainly was quite a show, sweetheart!” he said between laughter and eventually stopped. You couldn’t believe the man who started these rebellions against the rich of Gotham and killed Murray Franklin on his own show was standing in front of you and saying that he enjoyed the atrocious act you just performed.

You took your right hand on your chest surprised and pleased with his comment and smiled proudly looking at the dead bodies and then turning to see him again “The Joker complimenting my... Killing skills? Thank you so much, sir! I’m quite flattered!” you said giggling because of your little pun and doing a funny British lady curtsy to him. He was the Clown Prince of Crime after all. You wanted to show him your respect. “I saw the whole thing,” he said starting to walk around you and examining you completely. “the way these... Pieces of scum were talking to you on the subway, the way you, SOMEHOW, pinned them to the fuckin' wall, how you made sure they suffered for their actions,” he looked deep into your eyes while grabbing your chin “the way you gave them a smile in my honor,” you pulled your mask under your chin and offered him a big smiled that showed your teeth “and how you didn't let them go until you made sure they were dead. Not bad! Not bad at all.” You giggled and looked at the corpses. “Thanks, it really means a lot coming from you.”

“Your techniques are something special and you’re pretty interesting, doll. Your name?” you thought for a second. You didn’t really think of giving your clown persona a name. Then you knew what to respond. “Melody. My clown name is Melody.” you looked at him while he lighted up a cigarette and took a long drag. “Melody, huh? That’s a nice name. A name perfect for a murderer. Would you like me to walk you home?” you thought about it for a second. You respected him and supported him, yes, but allowing him to know where you live knowing how dangerous he is? You couldn’t risk your safety like that. “I appreciate the offer, sir, thank you very much, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline it.” he gave you a side-smile. “I understand why, no worries, doll, but first I would like to hand you a little something” he searched into his red suit jacket and handed you over a small card. You read both sides carefully. You raised an eyebrow. “A medical condition, huh? So that’s what it is?” he turned to you shocked and took the card from your hand “Whoopsie, wrong card!” he says with a chuckle and hands you over a different one with a direction. “Why are you giving me this?” you asked innocently. “In case someone as powerful and strong such as yourself decides to join me and my people, leave behind the boring working life and try something exciting, you’ll know where to find me.” you couldn’t believe the Joker thought of you as powerful and strong! You thought for a second. “How do you know I won’t use this to turn you to the police, though?” you didn’t understand why he trusted you this much after meeting you just a couple of minutes ago. “You won’t. And if you do, or someone else finds this card and chooses to be a snitch, it won’t matter. I always manage to escape. On my own or with the help of the people.” he took a long drag of his cigarette and exhale it while looking at his right. That looked awesome! As if he knew he was the big boss. You gave him a smile. “Thank you so much for the offer. I’ll think about it, but I gotta get back home now.” you started walking past him. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Joker” you looked at him and waved him goodbye. “And it certainly was a pleasure to meet you... Miss Melody.” you left the alley with a smile. You lied about thinking it over. You knew EXACTLY what to do.

#Anna is writing #joker x you #joaquin phoenix joker #the joker #joker #joker x reader #joker movie #Joaquin Phoenix #the joker 2019 #joker 2019 #Joker (2019) #joker (film) #THE JOKER (2019) #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #joker fanfiction #joker fan fic #joker fan fiction #dc fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fan fic #dc fan fiction

[chokedecho]

( LEE TAEMIN. QUEER. ) Rumor has it that ( WILHELM ‘BELL’ VON ) has been spotted skulking around  New York City streets recently. ( HE ) is a ( 23 ) year old ( VAMPIRE. ) They have a good reputation for being ( INDOMITABLE & LOYAL, ) but have also been known to be rather ( CALCULATED & BRAZEN. ) They’re known for being the ( COQUETTE. ) 

JAMIE, 24, GMT, THEY/THEM. please...... feed me plots...... love meme..... but also be gentle i’m overwhelm.... ヽ(◕﹏◕)ﾉ

TL;DR

bell is very new. he is a very new vampire & he hasn’t had a guiding hand or anyone pointing him in the right direction, so he’s a bit of a mess.

he was turned less than a year ago, here in NYC, but ran from the city when he found himself alone & scared. he’s been trying to figure himself out in distant cities since, but he’s found himself back here upon realising he needs to know answers from the person who made him the way that he is.

in his human life he was born & raised in germany, an orphan, so he has an accent and can occasionally struggle with finding his words, but for the most part he’s entirely fluent in english. 

he’s travelled and been on the move since he was old enough to leave the orphanage.

he’s been a criminal most his life, and he’s been a bit addicted to danger and seeking it out; it’s no wonder he ended up in a situation like this given the company he chose to keep and the places he hung around. 

he’s lustful in every sense of the word. it’s kicked into overdrive now, and he doesn’t know how to control himself or any of it ( which he hates ).

he has a cold tone, a sharp bite, a neutral expression; he seems apathetic at best, but when that devilish smile makes an appearance, you know you’re fucked.

give him friends please? he loves.... frens..... he’s so loyal ok and affectionate he just needs a place to put it all. he isn’t even hard to befriend so long as you don’t hear him being all  (ง •̀_•́)ง  and just immediately assume he’s not also (✿◠‿◠)

also angst though..... always angst..... just saying..... angst!!

THE LONG STUFF --- you really don’t need to read past this point lol

most people know what their first memory is, or have a rough idea of the time. bell is an exception to this. he has memories from being young, but ask him which came first or what age he was, and he’d draw a blank. instead, he’s had his story told to him, and for the longest time he’s been forced to believe it – he doesn’t like trusting the people that regaled it to him, but what choice does he have?

left on the doorstep of a church in germany. he doesn’t know where, doesn’t know when. he was barely a few days old, or so they believe. so he was told. there was no note, no comforting bed for him to lay, no blanket or toy. he was wrapped in a sweater, naked beneath, and crying out toward the sky. he was hungry, one could assume. he was cold, that much was clear. how he got there, or why he was left? no one has been able to fill in those gaps, and he doubts they ever will.

for a while he stayed at the church whilst the locals whispered, gossiped, tried to figure out who he’d belonged to, or where he’d go. eventually he was given to an orphanage, and it was a place like that where his memories began. there were so many, they play like a black and white film behind his eyelids. he can’t keep up, he doesn’t know which was first, which was last. fake parents nurtured him for a time or two, but nothing ever stuck. he grew accustomed to not having a home.

he remembers strict rules. he remembers sneaking downstairs after bedtime, putting in an old movie and getting lost in the monochrome world on the screen. he remembers it being so quiet he had to sit close enough for his eyes to be straining, lest he get heard and caught. punishment didn’t bother him, but the idea that he’d be monitored more closely and have to give up his films? that was enough. besides, he knew the words by heart anyway.

there were potential parents that came and went; nothing ever stuck. his first love interest was a boy in his orphanage, a couple years his senior. a boy who knew of bell’s obsession with the big screen, and who promised they’d move to hollywood one day. who promised him the world in return for certain favours. it was a dark time - bell prefers not to think of it now.

he remembers when the boy outgrew their orphanage. he remembers when he left, and he remembers waiting for him to come back.

he remembers outgrowing it himself two years later with his first love nowhere to be found.

sex was power. sex was a means to getting whatever he wanted, however he wanted, when he wanted it. it usually works out that way — young, defenceless, poor, the perfect recipe for a criminal. he never enjoyed getting his hands too dirty, but being admired? that he could handle just fine.

he’d been conning people out of their hard earned wages since he was a little child, and it only grew worse as he grew up. his favourite prey became older, married, rich men, for their fancy wedding rings, car keys (and the car), wallets, watches, even their clothes if they’re an adequate size.

motels were, and still are, his resting place. rucksacks filled with designer (stolen) clothes are his wardrobe, and bell von is the name he has given himself. von of what? of who? he’ll say he doesn’t need a family to be who he is, and that von period is enough.

he’s bisexual. he doesn’t know much about his own gender, doesn’t really question it, doesn’t care what he gets called. he’s an androgynous beauty, and apparently that’s an attractive quality to the weaker ones.

he’s always known how to fight, though not with fists. not with the clawing of his so pretty nails. he’s kept a knife strapped to his thigh like a garter belt for a decade, kept one tucked into the sole of his high heel boots in case of emergencies. he never enjoyed getting his hands dirty, but he would if underestimated. he refused to be a victim of anything or anyone.

he never should have fallen for those dark eyes and that chill that ran down his spine. he should have trusted survival instincts instead of running toward the danger, letting it sink it’s claws deep into him. that’s the expression, after all. soon the fangs followed.

as a human he was sassy. flirty. sexual. dramatic. a diva. now? now he’s in overdrive. lust doesn’t begin to explain the burning desire eating away at his insides. lust for what? he wishes he knew. wishes he didn’t feel like a starved, feral and ravenous monster being placed in front of a feast, gouging himself to the brim of death and never feeling like it could fill him.

where has all the money gone that he’s stolen? the jewellery? the cars? he doesn’t drive around in anything fancy, doesn’t live anywhere expensive, doesn’t flash around his cash or impulsively make over the top purchases. he keeps that to himself; maybe he’s attempting to write his future, since his past was told through word of mouth alone.

he has a passion for black and white movies, and an attraction to stealing the expensive perfumes of the wives of men he’s conned. he never enjoys the scent for longer than a day, and often resumes the use of his bargain brand, sickly sweet body spray. channel lipstick? he has several. fur coats? one in every colour. he’s never a day in his life dropped a dime on one, and he never will.

he wears makeup daily, smudged and smokey eyes, soft, luscious lips. rings in abundance, necklaces occasionally, though he prefers a choker. he likes to show skin, he likes to wear tight, see-through clothing, leather, black, fashion. he likes to look like a wet dream when he walks into a room, and he likes to make his presence noticed without having to ever speak a word.

he has a german accent, has been born and raised in and around berlin. his english is pretty fluent now, though occasionally it’ll break and he’ll lose a word or two. he’ll bat his lashes as a distraction whilst he attempts to find it, honey thick voice, low and seductive, making sounds to fill the silence as his fingers skim over his company’s thigh.

he can make a mistake look intentional, and anything intentional feel like a mistake.

#underworldshqintro #vampire.

[parsleybabe]

I’m so frustrated with my SIL. Whenever I’m trying to do something with my brother and her, her go-to answer is, “Sorry, I can’t afford it.”

Which, don’t get me wrong, is okay if you make very little money or just don’t want to spend a lot on going out all the time.

However, my SIL actually makes a lot more than I do and also a lot more than my brother does, while we’re working full time and she has less hours. She’s just REALLY bad at managing her finances.

As soon as she gets money, she spends it. Like, ALL of it and very impulsively so. And, often on unnecessarry items, like.... for example she once bought this giant stuffed animal for my niece, even though they don’t have the space for it, they already have TONS of toys, AND my niece didn’t even want it. Why buy it anyway? Because SIL saw it and thought it was cute.

She very often buys things that have a “present” character “for the kid”, even though my niece didn’t ask for those things, and has little interest in them once she has them. And SIL always buys them without any occasion, too. Not for a birthday or Christmas or anything like that, just randomly, whenever she sees something.

And this goes for small stuff, like toys or games, but also for really big stuff. For example, two months ago, she bought my niece a horse. You read that right, a living, breathing, shitting horse. Just like that. And then she bought a second horse a week later, because one horse on its own would get lonely.

I mean, WTF?

When I talked to her, she even admitted that the real reason why she bought them was “because I’ve always wanted a horse”. So, she’s really buying all of that stuff for herself. And I do understand the feeling of wanting to buy things you wished for as a kid, but couldn’t afford or weren’t allowed to have... I really fucking do, I’m doing the same thing with my doll collection. But, I only understand it, as long as you are responsible about it financially and with regards to the people around you.

When you talk to her about it, she’s always like, “I’ve thought this through. We can afford it. I get this amount of money, and I calculated how much it’s gonna cost per month and we're all good.”

The problem is, she’s not very good at calculating.

She makes so much money that she could easily put half of it (if not more) to the side and save it. But she just doesn’t. She always calculates so that she comes out +-0 at the end of the month. Based on her calculations, that is.

In reality she doesn’t factor in a lot of important things. For example, in case of the horses, she calculated

the original cost when buying them

insurance that covers operations

blacksmith

rough shelter costs

minimal food costs

rough estimate for accessories (saddle etc.).

She has enough for exactly that and then she has nothing left at the end of the month. What she didn’t consider was:

vet costs for any other non-operational treatments,

additional unexpected shelter costs (broken water pipe etc.),

real accessory costs (because it has to fit the horse, you can’t just buy the cheapest stuff),

AND any other unexpected non-horse-related costs (such as vet costs for their pets, broken appliances at home, car repairs etc. etc. etc.)

In addition to finances, she also neglected everything else. While claiming that she really thought things through, she didn’t factor in a lot:

She wants to save on food costs by planting and harvesting their own hay, but this means that my brother has to help do that, because she doesn’t know how to. And she claims she asked him and he agreed, but I know that he’s much more financially aware than she is and he knows they couldn’t afford buying the hay.

She found two girls to time-share the horse with, but didn’t consider that horse-sharers aren’t always as responsible as you wish they were. So, quite often, she or my brother have to step in and do the work.

There is no plan on who takes care of the horses should SIL and my brother want to go on vacation during school holidays (because they can't go any other time of the year, as SIL works at a school, and... obviously the horse-sharing girls still go to school and have the same vacation dates)

Have I mentioned that both SIL and my brother have severe health issues and shouldn’t be doing too much physical labor? Have I mentioned that, when she gets tired or something hurts, she just stops? And then my brother keeps going, despite the pain, because somebody needs to do it.

Thanks to her buying horses, my brother now has an additional daily workload of at least 2 hours. Even though he’s not interested much in horses. Even though he never had a desire to own a horse or learn how to ride a horse. Even though he‘s not capable to ride a horse (because of a previous spine injury). So that’s 2 additional hours of workload 7 days a week all year round without any of the perks of being a horse owner.

Not to mention, gifting a four year old kid a horse, just randomly out of nowhere for no particular reason, then letting the kid ride, but not involving her in the cleaning and tending of said horse, is just going to turn her into a spoiled little brat who never learns any responsibility and expects to get everything she wants whenever she wants it.

And that’s just the stuff I could list off the top of my head.

And the horses are just one example of many.

The sad thing is, my brother should just flat out say, “We can’t afford horses, so we’re not getting any.” But he doesn’t, because that would mean he’d have to argue about finances, which he hates, because he makes about enough to get by. Also, he’s not very good with words, and SIL is verbally superior during their arguments. So, since he can’t get through to her, he’d rather just not argue at all. He also doesn’t want to talk about it with me or anybody else of our family, because deep down he knows we’re right, and the whole horse things is negatively affecting their finances and his health. He just can’t bring himself to face it.

And, I KNOW NONE OF THIS IS MY BUSINESS.

What annoys me is that, whenever I’m home for a family visit, SIL keeps mentioning how "rich” I am.

The thing is, I do save up a lot of money, because I live very frugal. I don’t have a car, I don’t drink or smoke, I hardly ever go out, I don’t go on expensive vacations every year etc. etc. etc. So, I do have more money in my bank account than they do.

However, as I said, my brother makes more than I do, and she makes a lot more than he does. Together they make about three-four times the money that I do. And they pay a lot less taxes because they’re married and have a kid. Also, I pay rent because I live in a small 2 room apartment in the city (which is fucking expensive btw.), they don’t pay any rent at all for their apartment which is over 4 times the size of mine (because my parents let them live there rentfree - full disclaimer, please don’t misunderstand: I’m not mad at my parents, they helped me out a lot while I was in university even though they didn’t have much themselves, if anything I owe them! But back to SIL and my brother... they pay no rent), they don’t even have to pay for electricity, heating, water etc.

They should be fucking SWIMMING in money.

Instead, she never has any. And he has some saved up on the side, because he knows that he needs to be able to cover anything unexpected that she doesn’t calculate, but it’s not much, because he constantly has to cut into it.

So, when I’m there, or when they come to see me, I always want to do something together, like... go out to have dinner or go to the movies or something. Not even very expensive things, just small stuff. And her answer is almost always, “We can’t afford it.”

In the past, I often offered to pay for them, just so we could do anything other than just sit around. But, honestly? I don’t want to do that anymore. I would have no problem with covering for my brother, because I know how hard he works and how little he spends on himself. But for her? I’m just not willing to do that anymore.

#she's actually not a bad person #and she has many many good qualities too #like she used to work as a caregiver for disabled kids and she was so good at it too #she's also really open minded and inclusive towards anybody #and... just generally... she doesn't have any ill intentions or anything #but this inability to manage her finances responsibly #and the effect it has on my brother just frustrates me so much #personal #rant #sorry for the long read #gah

[ren-is-jers-husband-figure]

Anyway, here’s the fic for the start of the Mobster AU and how the kingpin of an Irish mob and a daughter of a famous politician have an 80’s movie style meet-cute. I don’t think I could have summed it up better than that.

(Let's stop the world) I'll stop the world and melt with you/(Let's stop the world) You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time/(Let's stop the world) There's nothing you and I won't do/(Let's stop the world) I'll stop the world and melt with you/The future's open wide.

If there was one thing that the political heiress to Kizami knew about political marriages, it was that the spouse who didn’t receive much gain was forced to leave a suffocating life. It still hurt that the man her parents had wed her to for these gains had rejected every notion of them ever trying to be anything like how a child dreamed of a married couple. It stung worse that he desired her adopted sister, those cruel eyes cutting through her to her core as his words provided the verbal equivalent of lemon juice in a paper cut. He was known for taking many women and men into his bed to claim their virginities, but her husband had deemed her as “Not worthy to share a house with me, let alone a night.” Perhaps the only thing that kept her from wanting to splatter her truth and brains from atop a skyscraper was the small group of people who worked at or went to the college she attended. Ah, and there also was her interest in theater.

Her junior squeezed her hand as they came to a dress and suit store in the mall, and rubbed her hand softly. “Senpai, would you like me to pick something nice for you here for the ball in a few weeks?” She asked, and the older girl hugged her junior tightly. “Senpai...”

She smiled at the bespectacled girl. “Thank you, Mash-chan. I’m glad I have you and Leo-chan and Mister Roman to trust. I just... can’t really trust my family anymore, my sister’s probably become a yanki, and pretty much only Merlin keeps me safe at my house. You have good taste, so I know you’ll pick something good!” She twirled a piece of her red hair on her finger as she followed her junior. Mash skimmed a few racks, and handed her senior a few dresses.

“I’ll be by the cash registers so you can show me, Jerilyn-Senpai,” Mash murmured reassuringly. She headed off to the cash registers while Jerilyn changed into one of the dresses in a dressing room.

Jerilyn later stepped out in a lilac dress, and tripped over her own high heeled shoes she was still trying to learn to walk in, stumbling forward into a stranger who caught her. “I-I’m really... sorry...?” She apologized, her voice trailing off as she caught the man’s face. “... Ah...”

The dark-haired man looked her over for a brief moment. “... You break any bones or twist your ankle?” He asked, a deep voice just barely above a murmur. She shook her head, and in spite of the red facial tattoos probably meant to be intimidating, concern colored his face. “... That’s good.” He helped her steady herself. “You... shouldn’t be careless. You might stumble into a worse person.”

She bowed her head apologetically. “I-I’m sorry, sir!” She looked up at him, and smiled sheepishly. “Thank... thank you... I’m usually less... scatter-brained... a-anyway, thank you, sir, I’m sorry for stumbling into you!”

He gave her a curt nod and observed her as she headed towards another girl. “... She was pretty cute,” he mused to himself as he made his way to the suit section. “Ah, right, can’t believe Cas is having me go to that dumbass party in his place. Dunno how he expects me to pretend to be him, thought my face was plastered on a buncha different shit.” He reached out and grabbed a hat and a tie. “I would rather wear what I am now, but that idiot likes to dress in outrageous shit, so...” A White-haired man waiting by the front of the store watched the exchange with amusement.

Later, Jerilyn returned to the mansion she, her bodyguard, and her adoptive sister lived in. “She’s not home yet, huh... what do you think, Merlin? The girl who can do as she likes but gets ignored, or the girl who receives attention at the cost of freedom... who suffers more?” She asked her bodyguard.

The white-haired man closed up a case for the gun he had on his side all day. “Depends, you know? My thinking is more colored by me knowing you since you were a baby, though, and having actually interacted with that asshole husband of yours, but you to me seem to suffer the most. You’ve always been good at hiding your pain, though, my dear niece.” He flicked her forehead, and she huffed at him. “I also personally hate being restricted, so that seems more painful. Anyway, that guy you bumped into at the dress store was pretty handsome!”

The heiress stared dumbfoundedly at Merlin. “... The guy with face tattoos? He... certainly was... do you know about him, Merlin?”

Merlin grabbed a white cat scurrying by and then picked up a little white dog, placing the dog in his charge’s lap. “Seems kinda familiar. Seems you’d have to run into him again for me to try to get a better glance. I have a feeling you two would hit it off.” He pinched her cheek and wiggled it as she glared at him. “I can set you up with a cute girl, too. Why should you be the only one miserable in your marriage when that bastard makes no secret of fucking everyone but you, that’s what I’m getting at, my dear. After all, a man who would rather have sex with the adoptive sister of the girl he married doesn’t deserve sympathy.”

She smiled wryly. “I almost half expected you to suggest relations between us, Uncle.”

“Oh, no, no, I’ve known you all your life, Jerilyn. Raising someone and then having sex with them, even a scoundrel like me draws the line somewhere! Plus, I know you don’t like my type.” His cat started attacking him. “Little bastard, I accidentally throw you out a window one time and you continue to murder me!! Piece of shit Cath Palug!!” She laughed as she hugged her dog to her chest. “This cat’s probably gonna be immortal so it can ruin my life. I hope I can find that guy again, or a cute girl if I can’t get him for you, dear.”

A few days later, Jerilyn was walking her dog with Merlin watching her back while under the guise of hitting on someone, and went to a dog park that he’d suggested as “kinda near a good mall, so you can take your little fluff ball there later.” She would have enjoyed seeing all the various dogs and marveled over their cuteness, had not her own dog started getting jealous every time she let out an “Awww.”

She rubbed her dog’s ears with a sigh. “Max, why are you like this,” she mumbled to him as he let out a huge sigh, and he jumped off her lap, dragging her along with him despite not even reaching her knee in height. “Maaaaaax...!” Her little dog barreled over to a peachy-colored poodle, and she took care to not slam into the poodle’s hoodie-wearing owner, and instead chose to fall on her behind. “Ow... I’m so sorry that my dog is... like that...”

The owner knelt down to check if she was hurt, and she gasped. “... You’re... that clumsy girl from the other day...” he remarked, and aided her to her feet. While she had opted for a bubblegum pink puffy dress-one of the few benefits of a rich husband who didn’t care about her meant that she could wear the cute Lolita dresses she’d longed for-he was wearing a hoodie, a shirt with an odd pattern on it, some basketball shorts, boots, and had on glasses, giving him a rather youthful appearance compared to the other day. “You seem to get into situations where you fall a lot.”

Jerilyn pouted. “I’m not trying to fall! This time, it was my Maltipoo, and last time, it was my tall heels!” He held back a snort and put his non-leashed hand on his face pensively. “Wh... what is it, Mister?” She asked, quickly realizing that this man was indeed her type, at least visually.

He grinned at her. “You’re amusing. I haven’t felt a sort of enjoyment like that in a while. It also doesn’t help me that whatever you called your dog sounds funny. My dog and yours seem to like each other, so... maybe they can enjoy each other’s company...”

Jerilyn looked down to see the two dogs looking like they wanted to chase each other. “S-sure... um... I’m Jerilyn Kizami.” The two unleashed their dogs, who proceeded to chase each other around their humans. She walked by the significantly taller man, who continued to gaze at her curiously.

After a few moments of walking, he leaned against a bench she sat on. “So you’re the daughter of that famous politician... you don’t seem like a liar type, though, that’s funny. Well, I’m Cu Chulainn. I do some bodyguard type stuff and sometimes do stuff for a casino. And I guess I got a dog, she followed me home once and I couldn’t ignore her despite her annoying me.”

Jerilyn twirled a piece of her red hair on her finger. “It was more a power move on my family’s part, I don’t even care much about that stuff. Your doggy is super cute, Mister Cu... My underclassman got me my little Max for me.... he likes to protect me and he thinks he’s big. He’s not as funny as my uncle’s cat, though. His cat hates him and attacks him whenever he’s in the room.”

“You don’t need to be formal and add a ‘Mister’. Cats aren’t my thing. Aren’t all little dogs like that, thinking they’re big?” Cu mused, and he slid a hand in his pocket after pushing his glasses up. “... You really seem to avoid talking about yourself.”

“... Well, yes... there isn’t much to discuss... I do some acting on small stages... I like cute things, mysteries, and... strange anime... I try to stay away from notice to avoid trouble...” She gazed down at her hands.

Cu took a seat on the bench with her. “Ain’t nothing wrong with wanting to live a quiet life. There’s something about not being self-absorbed and only discussing yourself that’s pleasant, a lot better than what I usually hear.” He caught her looking at him. “... What is it?”

Jerilyn smiled a smile at him that felt brilliant and melancholic in unison. “Thank you, Mister Cu...” He leaned in to brush a stray piece of her hair back, and she flinched. “S... sorry... I’m... not used to...”

Cu looked over her quietly. “... You’re too gentle to be like that... I’ll give you my number. If you ever need help and whoever regularly guards you can’t arrive in time, call me.” They briefly exchanged numbers, and his dog jumped into his lap. “You sure know how to kill a mood, don’t you, dog?”

She picked her own dog up and held him tightly. “Thank you, Mister Cu. I think, apart from my underclassman, you’re my first friend since I was put into that marriage...”

“F-friend?” He repeated. “I-I guess we are... that’s a first for me, someone who isn’t involved in the business... well, now it feels a little weird. Whatever you need, you can call or text me, my phone’s always on me.”

A few days later, Cu got a message while finishing a job up. “Hm, amusing,” he chuckled, and he dropped the bat in his hand to open the message up. The girl’s fun messages to him had become highlights of his day, and her sheltered viewpoint made for some fascinating tales she would send him. Earlier, she had sent a picture of her dog lying on his back while he was asleep with his legs in the air. This time, she had sent him a message about improv practice and asking what he was doing. He quickly replied, “Got some time off, so I went to do some batting practice. I hit it well each time.”

She sent a picture of herself smiling-most likely taken by that weird bodyguard of hers-and sent a message that said, “Sounds fun! Do you want to hang out?”

“After I get cleaned up. I have to get some stuff from my work. Want to meet up there?” He looked down at the broken computer on the floor. “That certainly ain’t gonna be salvageable,” he remarked. “... Same for you, too, bastard. You really musta pissed the lady off for her to call me in and silence you. Good thing I wore a suit from high school... I’ll get Billy to clean this up.”

The small time actress stepped out of the car in front of a casino, feeling self-conscious in the sweet lolita outfit she’d opted to wear. “I should’ve worn something more grown up,” she whined to herself, and asked a security guard where she would find Cu. The guard led her to what appeared to be the manager’s office, and her growing unease continued to gnaw at her. “... He’s the manager...? I thought he just worked at the casino,” she whispered to herself, and sat in the chair in front of the desk. She twirled her hair on her finger, nearly jumping out of the chair as the other door in the room opened.

Cu stepped out in a suit with his shirt undone, and a towel on his head. “Good grief, they couldn’t be any less discreet about sending them in...” he grumbled to himself, and then noticed the nervous actress in the room. “... I hope that we’re meeting to hang out and that you aren’t a surprise escort someone sent... not that I’d mind if you are...”

Jerilyn blushed, and flailed her arms to the point she fell out of the chair. “N-n.... not at all!! I-I’ve never even been intimate with anyone before!!” She protested, and her face grew more red as she realized his grin was focused on her. “I... I didn’t know you were the manager of the casino, Mister Cu!”

He helped her up, and she noted the pleasant rose scent from his hair. “‘Course I am. My teacher showed me how to run it, and I took over. It was a joke. What kind of uptown girl is a prostitute? Anyway, I got the stuff done, so do you want to come with me to a meeting I gotta attend?”

—————————————————-

Later that night, he came up to the gallery where this party-rather, a ball-was being held, glaring at the woman with a fur shawl trying to cling to him. “Aww, I knew you liked me, Cu, I’m so happy I could be your date!”

Cu grimaced at the woman and slapped her hand away. “I didn’t even invite you, Medb. And I still don’t like you, you just tagged along, and I don’t give a fuck anymore.” He looked around the place, and sighed. “What the hell do people do here, anyway? There ain’t even any art stuff in here.”

Medb snickered, and went to sit at a table. “Ah, yeah, you guys didn’t come from money. It’s just silent auctions of luxury stuff, pats on the backs, and that kind of stuff.”

[anodyne-sunflower]

Love me like you do (Part 23)-Balem series

A/N: Here we are. Part 23, geesh. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written lol I really hope you guys have been enjoying this ride, it’s definitely a pleasure to write. No, this isn’t the last chapter lol Anyway, Few notes: Famulus is Titus’ assistant in the movie, she’s a deer splice. Midian is a planet owned by Abrasax industries. I’m not entirely sure what color the moon on his gold collar is, but it looks red orange to me….I’m also not sure if it is a moon or something else, but fuck it. Ummmm other than that. Enjoy.

MOOD MUSIC: Paint it, Black by Ciara

***

The ticking of the grand clock on the ceiling resounded off the walls of his chamber, slowly lulling the Primary into a scene of emptiness. He could gaze all around this lavish room, with its aureate light across the walls, and find nothing short of silence. It had been this way for a long while, devoid of all life but that of his own when he took residence in it. He cherished his time alone, away from those who would seek his power or leech off it. But, for a time now, he found little solace in this empty chamber. Where that pendulum grated on his nerves and did little else but spin him into a frenzy of anger. His fingers curled into the papers on his desk, crumbling them into a mess as he seethed silently. His eyes darted towards the clock on the far wall, glaring deeply at it, as if the very object mocked his self loathing.

He could blame you, every illogical section of his mind wanting so badly to do so. To say that a single woman caused him to break into this pathetic pining individual he was now, but that would be unfair to you. Perhaps you had done what no other could in all his long life, but for that he should and truly was, grateful. He adored you beyond anything else in his world, he would not lie to himself anymore. You were the center of his universe, and he knew that no matter what became of you both, you always would be. It would be fair to say that was precisely what vexed him. The fact that a simple earthling girl, meant to become the very essence of his business, could so easily gain his love. You were beautiful, intelligent, but in the grand scheme of things there wasn’t anything particularly special about you. He had met and bedded many gorgeous women in his lifetime, none as fair as you, but equally capable in a sense to find themselves the holder of his heart. He could pretend that was the case, but deep down he knew exactly why you were the one to make him feel so alive. And the simplest way to explain that, was that you loved him without ever expecting more from him. He wasn’t a man who could change easily, and even though he could see you wished for him to do so on occasion, you never once begged or asked for it. You loved him for everything he was, it was raw and it was real.

Balem looked back again at the doors, conflicted on whether or not to give chase. He had a choice before him, and unlike his usual self, he had no clue as to what to do.

“Forgive me, my lord-”

Mr. Night came rushing into the Primary’s chambers, arms restlessly moving at his sides as he tried to catch his breath. He looked flustered, as if some grand thing had just occurred and he was all too eager to relay the information. Balem, however, was in no mood to entertain the splice this afternoon.

“Mr. Night-” he warned, slouching down into his throne with a sound of discontent. “I am in no mood.”

“Yes, my apologies, Lord Balem. But, I have urgent news.”

Balem rubbed tenderly at his temple, propping his elbow up onto the arm of his throne before waving his free hand for the advisor to continue.

“As commanded, my lord, your fleets have taken residence near Titus’ territories. Most of his ships have been eradicated.”

The Primary glanced up at the information, eyes wide for a minute. He had forgotten in his anger he had made such a request, and it brought little comfort to his distressed heart.

“Titus?”

“Alive, my lord. He’s currently en route to Midian.”

He nodded in response, not surprised Titus had somehow managed to escape the attack. In truth, he wished his younger brother had perished. At long last this rivalry would come to an end. Kalique was manageable, Titus was the wild card. And he was well aware that he would stop at nothing to gain his title.

“How disappointing.” Balem spoke apathetically, laying his hands in his lap and lacing his fingers together. It was an entirely reckless plan on his part, but in the aftermath he may as well find some degree of happiness in it. The less Titus had at his disposal, the better. “Pull back our forces, have Greeghan personally see to the storm gates, and if Titus wishes to speak to me…I want to hear of it.”

The advisor bowed, swiftly turning away and rushing out the door to give the orders. Balem was left to contemplate his next move, thinking just how desperate Titus must be feeling right now. So alone, with nothing but that hideous clipper of his to keep him sane. It brought him joy for a minute, knowing he dealt his message to the scheming little brat of a brother. But, he was aware that his own future was as bleak as Titus’ now. He had likely descended the family into war, and even though victory would surely be his, he would still be left just the same at the end. Empty of all in life, but the riches at his disposal and the power at his hands. He had always been cognizant of this fact, it was hard to ignore when all you lived by was the same values of the entitled code. People like him didn’t get happiness, they only grew rich and old, and in their time they learned one thing: fight for more time. All to get even richer and powerful, until you were the god of everyone and everything and no one could stand in your way. That was his aim, until he met you. He didn’t think it possible to want anything more than the power available to him, to constantly fight tooth and nail for it. Now it all seemed a fruitless endeavor, when at the end he’d find himself still hungry for more. Time was still worth fighting for, but it all meant nothing in the conditional sense. He could forever strive for wealth and power, but he was positive he’d never find anyone like you again.

The Primary gazed back to the exit, heart straining terribly in his chest. He wasn’t sure he’d ever grow accustomed to the feeling, but at the sting of tears in his eyes he rose from his throne. He would not shed a tear, but it was the first time he ever truly felt the pending loss of someone dear to him.

He strode towards the exit of his room, stopping just at the doors and coming to a conclusion. He would not lose you, not ever. You were his, and he would make sure of that. He left his chambers in a rush, walking down the halls and ignoring his staff and soldiers on his way to the servant quarters, where he was sure you’d be. Upon his arrival, the corridor appeared empty, save for one man who was busy cleaning.

“Where is she?”

The servant jumped at the gruff tone, pushing back into the wall when he found the head of the alcazar glaring at him. He had never spoke to Balem before, let alone made eye contact with the intimidating lord. “I-”

“Get out.” The Primary ordered in frustration, already knowing the servant was going to be useless to him. It didn’t take long for the man to listen, and he bowed quickly as he ran out of the area. “Fool…”

Balem looked around the corridor, noting every room and passing them by one by one. He didn’t recognize anything, all of the belongings in them unknown to him. He tried finding you, but it all appeared to be in vain. Until he heard soft humming coming from the showers, a sweet little tune that he had heard once before in the night. When you thought he was asleep, tracing random patterns upon his back and humming out that same song.

He brought his gaze to the shower area, slowly moving towards it and stopping just at the entrance. The servants showers were built into the marbled black walls, each individual area sectioned off by long draping gold curtains for privacy. As soon as he entered, the steam hit him, enveloping him in a warmth and scent that was all too familiar to his senses. It enslaved him, beckoning him forward to the shower it came from. His boots stalked along the water seeping along the floor, the ends of his cape now soaked as he found his way to you. Yet, he couldn’t possibly trouble himself with such a thing, for his mind was hooked on one person.

Balem paused at the end of the showers, standing before the curtain, and reveling in the enchanting silhouette within his line of vision. He was so fond of that bewitching form, every part of him yearning to have it back in his arms where it belonged. The longing had him propelling forward into the shower, hand coming up to shift the curtain aside. His eyes immediately were drawn to you, bathing under the heavy flow of water that came from a long spout above. Your hands worked the soap over your curves, your back turned to him as you ended your humming to extend your face into the stream.

His breath left him in awe, eyes scanning every inch of your bare body. He had never felt desire like this, his heart aching to be with you and body begging to have you. It was a passion that wouldn’t easily fade.

Your hands ran over your thighs, wet hair clinging to your skin as you washed and scrubbed at your body. The shower proved helpful enough, washing away the dirt and grime of the day’s work, yet ridding your heart of the turmoil it felt. If only for a few minutes. You were certain those feelings would return with a vengeance once you finished up. In fact, you were positive they’d haunt you for the rest of your days here. Balem managed to work his way under your skin, nearly controlling every logical part of you. There was so many things to detest about a man like him, and yet you adored him for all he was. That would never change, and you would just make peace with that.

You sighed into the water, closing your eyes as you tilted your head back and appreciated the heat spilling over you. It reminded you of him, his warmth, his caresses, the way he’d lean down and whisper intimate words into your ear. Bathing with him was a heavenly gift, one that you happily shared in numerous times. But, those musings only heightened your sorrow, knowing he didn’t want you anymore. You fancied yourself a strong person, but even heartbreak could tear the strongest people apart.

Balem advanced over the water, unmoved by the droplets seeping into his attire. His focus was primarily on you standing before him, so unaware of your effect on his being. He was so close now, one slip of his hand, and he’d be reaching out to touch you.

You angled your neck to the side, massaging at your shoulder that felt just a tad sore. The heat of the water loosened your muscles, making you moan in comfort at the feeling. As your nails glided along your flushed skin, a soft touch made you freeze. The feeling of fingertips moving up your mid back, and over your shoulder blade causing you to shiver. You knew that touch, but in the back of your mind you warned yourself not to believe it was him. You didn’t dare look back, heart already hammering away within your chest as those fingers walked over your shoulder and affectionately covered your hand. From the corner of your eye, you could see the glint of gold rings, his thumb sweeping over your knuckles in an enamoring way. It captivated your attention, tongue coming out to lick across your lips as you finally brought yourself to turn to him.

His other hand came to rest on your left arm, traversing up your now prickling skin as he pulled you back into his hold. You felt the black gems adorning his shirt prod into your back, his breath ghosting along your cheek as he leaned down.

“Turn around.” He pleaded, nose pressed into your cheek as he inhaled your scent. How he missed this closeness, just feeling you encased in his arms. He was a fool to have let it go before.

You did as he asked, tentatively turning in his grasp until you found yourself gazing into his handsome face. Most would break under the stare of him, finding that distinct barbarity in his gaze too difficult to comprehend or endure. You had felt that once, months ago when he held you to a wall and let that inviting voice of his seduce you. It was the beginning of the end for you then, little did you know his cold, calculating eyes would become such a pleasure for you to look into. All fear aside now, you simply allowed yourself to enjoy them, even as they bore down into you.

“What are you doing?…” It was a weak whisper, conveying the excitement and confusion in your heart. Balem offered no explanation, and without further question he lifted his hand towards you. The water above slid down his palm, cascading over his fingertips as they swept over your cheek. He touched you with such devotion, so unlike his typical callous nature that it made you pause in your thoughts. You couldn’t make sense of his change, but if those green eyes told you anything it was the deep sadness pooling within them. Something he so desperately wished to be unburdened from.

He trailed his thumb down, bringing it to your perfect lips and tracing over them. He relished the warmth of your breath against his fingertip when your mouth parted, a shaky breath leaving you at his attention.

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me.” It was said in despair, his words proving that he was finally at the end of his rope. He could no longer deny what he needed in his world, not when it was standing right in front of him.

You made to speak, eyes welling with tears when he leaned forward to press your foreheads together. There was many things you wanted to say, even some that would convey the struggle he had put you through, but all that was lost when he pushed you both back into the wall.

The water fell upon him, drenching his clothing, and completely flattening his usually slicked back hair. But, Balem only kept his attention upon you, his lips taking your own into a fervid kiss that left you positively breathless. You clung to his shirt, gripping tightly onto his sleeves as he cupped your cheeks. His lips moved slowly over yours, savoring every touch, every noise of pleasure until you begged for air. He would pull away momentarily, letting you recover before fulfilling his desires again. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough of you, but he’d resign himself to a fate of trying if it meant having you near.

“Balem…” You gasped into his mouth, simultaneously wanting to bring him closer and push him away. Your heart could only take so much of this, and you only wanted for him to know that. “I can’t…” You moved your face away, his lips brushing over your cheek from the sudden movement. The urge to cry was building, every single heartbreak he caused threatening to spill out. But, you forced yourself to keep those emotions at bay, unwilling to allow him the pleasure of your pain. Not that he ached for it, he would never wish to bring any harm to you.

“Little bird,” Balem kept his lips on your cheek, kissing it softly before moving away. He respected your anger towards him, but he wasn’t willing to part from you yet.

“Don’t.” You begged, an audible whine escaping you at the sound of his pet name. It always caused a mix of emotions to build, making it harder to ignore your desire to be with him. “Please…”

“Y/N…”

His sudden switch made you turn, brows knitting together in shock at the way he said your name. It was a rare sound to witness, and you could count the number of times he actually used it. Only this time it was sincere, as if he was trying to keep you calm in his hold. You glanced up at him, tears rolling down your cheeks when he tilted your chin up. His habitual icy glare replaced by a genuine look of adoration. He didn’t need to smile, he didn’t need to say much else, because you felt it then. An overwhelming tenderness that was displayed in the way he caressed your cheek, brushing off the tears. He ran his fingers through your wet hair, gently tugging you forward and into his arms. Your chin came to rest on his shoulder, eyes wide as you felt him embrace you, your breasts pushing into his chest as he held your head and waist in his hands.

You could’ve broke down then, allowing all your pent up emotions to rush out in a heap of sobs. But, you merely bit down on your lip, letting it quiver between your teeth as he hugged you to him.

Balem didn’t say anything else, he allowed you a moment, waiting until he felt your body still in its silent cries before unhooking his cape from the buckles on his shoulders. He gracefully pulled it around himself, bringing it over your bare body and wrapping you as best he could. He craned one arm around your back and hooked the other under your knees, lifting you protectively into his arms.

The cold cloth made you shake, but you didn’t care too much, your focus trained on the powerful man gazing down at you in his arms. He turned the water off, keeping you snug against him as he took you both to his chambers.

Neither of you cared when you passed others in the hallways, your eyes remained fixed on each other. Trying to disclose the extent of your feelings that had long gone unsaid. It wasn’t until you came upon his chamber doors that he looked away, taking you over the threshold into his room. It was so long ago when you came in here with the intent of fulfilling passions, an action you didn’t believe you’d be partaking in again. But, as he carried you across his chambers towards the large bed, you remembered how much you treasured those intimate meetings.

Balem set you down gently, your feet touching the ground delicately before he began removing his cape from around you. His eyes fixated on your face, one hand coming to tilt your chin up, the other sliding the cape effortlessly off your nude body. It fell in a damp heap on the floor, leaving you to tremble gently in the air of the room. He carefully walked you back, the heels of your feet hitting the edge of his bed, making you look behind to ensure you wouldn’t just fall. But, he held you close, his body heat already rolling off in waves around you. If only you could get him out of his wet clothes, you’d be even more welcoming to his touch.

“Here.” You trailed your hands up his chest, admiring the well made attire of his shirt. You couldn’t even imagine what all that gold and gems cost, but it worked well for the Primary. “Let me.” You traced the intricate patterns of his gold collar, running your fingertip over the bright glow of the red orange half moon. You never realized how detailed the contraption was, but it suited him for some reason. You unlatched the lock on it, opening it up and removing it from his neck. In some odd way, it felt deeply personal, as if he was allowing you the privilege of being this close. It was unlikely that anyone had ever touched, or cared for him in such a way. But, when you pulled that collar off and dropped it casually onto the cape, it was like a new appreciation for one another had developed.

Balem never faltered in his gaze, his expressive eyes now mapping the beauty before him. He pulled his shirt off, your hands quickly coming to explore his body without breaking eye contact. He cherished the lightness of your caress, muscles contracting beneath his smooth skin as you inched your fingers lower. His skin was cold to the touch, the water having clung to his clothing and chilled him to the bone. It increased the sensitivity of his body, a fact he wasn’t complaining over. Not when he had you splaying your hands over his chest and lower abdomen, your arousal clear in his eyes when you bit your lip.

There was an excitement in your actions, both of you journeying your hands and fingers along the other’s body with renewed vigor. It was like exploring something new all over again, the emotions behind your teasing touches and affectionate glances multiplied by the confessions in each of your minds.

“Kiss me.” You couldn’t take the lack of contact much longer, not with him towering over you in all his arousing splendor. As much as you would enjoy the foreplay of undressing the rest of him, your body was eager to be entwined with his.

Balem’s lips curled into a smirk, the love in his eyes now mixing with pure lust at your demand. You had rarely asked anything of him in bed, and when you did it was said in those moments of your rapture, when all else failed you and a simple ‘Don’t stop’ could be heard. How he enjoyed those loose lips of yours, often giving him what he wanted to hear even when you tried to fight it. So your demand would go answered, because he could not deny himself the pleasure of that pretty pout.

He cupped your face, thumb sweeping over your cheekbone as he tilted your head and leaned down. His nose pushed into yours, lovingly bumping together before he gave you what you asked for. His lips barely covered yours, allowing your breaths to mingle together, creating a wave of ecstasy for you both. You wanted to close the distance, but the part of you that enjoyed the sweet torment allowed him the slow dance of his kiss. So you worked at his pants, undoing the clasp that hung just below that V of his abdominal muscles. It only furthered your temptation, heart racing now as you lowered his pants and freed his swollen need for you.

He groaned into your mouth when the tip of his manhood brushed your stomach, leaving a slight trail of precum along your skin. It made you both breakaway from the kiss, cheeks now flushed with desire as you stared at each other. He made quick work of his boots, shoving off his pants the rest of the way before coming back up to admire you. The want was so palpable in the air of the room, and he wasted no more time in lifting you into his arms. He hugged you to him, just enough to get you onto the bed where he gently laid you down beneath him.

It was the chill of his lips that made you sigh out, lower back arching from the bed. Your fingers already tangled into the silk sheets, head tilting to the side in a passionate state.

“Balem…” you whispered sweetly, eyes shutting as he dragged his mouth over your breasts and kissed each one. He paid particular attention to your nipples, delighting in the way they hardened under his administrations.

“I’ve missed you.” He groaned in his pleasure, nuzzling your ribs and smiling when he heard that melodic giggle of yours. “You make me weak, little bird…” he said with such desired acceptance, closing his eyes as he nipped just below your breast. The ticklish sensation made you giggle and moan, body thriving on the attention he offered. His words weren’t lost on you, and though some may have found trouble in them, you just found love. For a man of his stature in the world, knowing you were the only thing he considered a weakness…it made your heart flutter.

“How?” You questioned, fingers running through his hair as he continued his path down your body. You could feel his fiery gaze upon you, knowing he was delivering a warning not to push him too far into this new territory. It only made you smile, a sigh moving passed your lips as he catered to your need.

Balem’s tongue lazily drew a pattern over your navel, licking over the now heated skin and coming to stop at your spread legs. He eyed you from his position, an amused smile on his face when he heard you question his statement. He could explain a number of reasons why you tormented his every thought, but he wasn’t well acquainted with the complexities of love. Some secrets were meant to stay that way, and he could tell how badly you wished to gain them from him.

“Nothing you need be made privy to…” he teased, kissing over your thigh and watching as you writhed around.

You would’ve argued his point, wanting to know why someone like him came to find his weakness in you. Call it arrogance on your part, but what woman wouldn’t like to know every detail about the man she adored. But, your argument fell into a string of moans, his tongue now lapping languidly at your folds and paying particular attention to your clit. He had ached for you, his needs having gone ignored for far too long now. He often dreamt of you being in his arms again, enticing screams of passion falling upon his ears and making him wake up impossibly aroused and angry. Having you here again, moving happily around on his bed and whimpering his name, there wasn’t anything like it.

“Balem!” You pushed at his head, the pleasure rising too high and nearly causing tears to form in your eyes. His tongue and lips had you thrashing around, the only thing keeping you grounded was his hand on your breast, the other holding one thigh away so you wouldn’t completely trap his face between your lovely legs. He heeded your silent request to stop, pulling away with a soft smack of his lips, a string of your cum sticking to them. It was a heavenly sight, especially when he smirked and kissed just above your pubic bone, making you shift in his hold and beg him to come back up.

“No more,” but, your words trailed off into incoherent purrs of bliss. His breath and lips tickling over your stomach and up your chest until he stopped them above your own. He knew what you wanted, what he wanted, and as much as he lived on the foreplay of sex, he couldn’t deny you both any longer.

“Whatever you desire, my beauty.” He cooed, burying his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He meant every word, his entire being now devoted to the endless comforts and affections he could spoil you with. You were his, and he would do anything in his power to keep it that way. He could not afford to lose you again, because life seemed too painful now without you.

He settled himself at your entrance, groaning when his tip pushed into your warmth. Every primal element of his personality begged to take you hard, but he wanted to savor these moments. Just witnessing and perceiving every fine detail until he could map every inch of your body into his mind. From what made that sensual voice of yours moan, to the touches that caused your body to contort in ecstasy within his embrace.

“Ahh…” You held one hand back against the headboard of his bed, bracing yourself as he slowly buried his length within you. Your walls stretched and gave way to him, contracting around his cock and craving for more movement. “Balem, oh god…”

He was fighting his own pleasure, one arm wrapped around you and the other forcefully tangling into the pillow near your head. His breathing had grown ragged, teeth grinding down so he could control the needs he felt. With you moaning away beneath him, nails clawing at his back, he wasn’t sure it was possible to continue this slow ascent into your passions.

“You drive me mad, my little dove.” He chuckled, kissing your neck and moving you to look at him now. Both your eyes were glazed over in lust, each of you wanting to cave into the more wild nature of your relations. But, he took it slow, rolling his hips down and growling out his pleasure.

You held onto him, gliding your palm up his back and lacing your fingers through his hair. He kept his leisurely pace, sliding in and out of you, only heightening the response of your bodies to the thrill of your coupling.

“Faster,” you moaned pleadingly, throwing your head back into the black and gold pillows. He kept brushing over that sensitive spot within you, the slow rhythm of his thrusts only denying you the peak of your bliss. It was frustrating and perfect, his movements only making that pleasure build until you couldn’t fathom the idea of taking anymore. “Don’t stop…”

Balem kissed you eagerly, a grin on his lips when he heard those two pleading words that he was so very fond of. You uttered them against his kiss swollen lips, crying out between his kisses as he increased his speed. He was rocking into you at this point, your body giving into the sinful pleasures of the Primary. Your inner walls clenched down around his length, feeling the pulse of his own arousal with each needy thrust. The both of you drowned in the heat of your passions, your own orgasm approaching at a frenzied beat. The tightening in your abdomen gave way, back snapping off the bed and pressing you flush against Balem. He was groaning heavily into your kiss, trying to keep his climax steady until you were completely satisfied beneath him.

He slowly came down from his high, hips still bucking gently forward to ride out his orgasm. You were writhing weakly under him, body exhausted from his lovemaking. You moaned softly when he pulled out, missing the feeling of his proximity already. But, you took joy in his embrace, wiggling around as he began to pepper kisses across your collarbones, neck, and cheeks. Each one more tender than the last.

“I love you…” you confessed to him, already knowing he had an inkling of your emotions. But, you spoke them anyway, wanting him to be fully aware of just how much he meant to you. It was a dangerous thing, most would say, but you felt it so fiercely in this moment the words could no longer be contained. “I love you.”

Balem paused his trail of kisses, lips barely caressing the skin of your neck when he took in your heartfelt sentiment. He felt your body tense when he said nothing, your fingers restlessly tapping along his back, trying to control your nerves. He wasn’t at a loss for words, he knew exactly what he felt, but your confession was the only thing he wished to focus on, if only for a minute. He had stopped you the very first time you tried, an action he now felt foolish for. Because, nothing in life would ever bring him this sliver of happiness like hearing you give yourself completely to him.

He closed the distance between him and your neck, kissing your pulse gently as he nuzzled just below your jawline. If there was ever a reason to want more time at his disposal, it was to share it with you by his side.

“I am yours.” He whispered so sincerely, moving up to gaze down into your beautiful eyes. He brushed the fallen strands of hair from your face, admiring your features before repeating himself. “I am yours.”

***Midian***

“Lord Titus…?” Famulus cautiously stepped towards him, her ears twitching in vigilance as she awaited his command. Titus merely stared out the windows of his clipper, eyes filled with a fiery resolve to tear Balem apart. His entire fleet, meager as it was, destroyed right in front of his eyes, metal scraps floating in the abyss of space. The shine of the explosions glinted across his pupils, lip twitching at the corner as he attempted to quell the rage building within him. He could have heeded Kalique’s warning, perhaps even let this rivalry between brothers go. Now he could not fathom leaving Balem to rule over everything while he only fell further into nothing.

“Lord Titus, are you-”

“My army, how many left?” He clasped his hands tightly behind his back, gritting away at the anger boiling inside. He could stand and watch his livelihood be taken from him, or he could fight back, and what better way to greet Lord Balem First Primary, than with an army of his own.

“I’m afraid there isn’t much left, my lord. You have two ships left, each well equipped with soldiers and sims, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t do much against-”

“And Kalique? What of hers?”

“I’m not sure she wishes to be involved, Lord Titus. Our communications have gone ignored…” Famulus bowed her head in apology, lifting her eyes only to survey the amount of frustration Titus felt.

Titus sighed, never taking his sights off the ship currently being attacked. He should’ve guessed Kalique would shy away from full on war, it wasn’t her style to get involved in the overall politics of it. Such a shame really, she could’ve proven a great help to him. But, if she wished to abandon him now, then he could forget their original deal.

“Very well. I want you to contact Cygnus-”

“My lord…” His assistant looked down in worry, moving away to hold her arm out towards a container, currently being held in the arms of a soldier. “Cygnus is no longer able to help…your brother…”

The Third Primary glared towards the container, seeing stains of dried blood clinging to the edges. It was no doubt the grisly work of Balem, always wanting to send a message in the most heinous of ways. He didn’t need to peek inside to know the head, quite literally, of Balem’s council was in there.

“I see. Well,” he smiled at Famulus, trying to regain his calm demeanor. “No matter. We will do this without him. He sent me some interesting feedback on this last meeting. Perhaps Balem would like to speak about it. If it is war he wants, then I will give it to him.”

***

A/N: Hope y'all liked! Please give feedback if possible ❤️ I can’t say how many parts are left, but I’m getting towards the end-ish lol. Based off my outline :) so, we shall see! I’m super stoked!

#balem abrasax x reader #balem abrasax #balem #balem x reader #balem x you #balem abrasax x you #jupiter ascending #eddie redmayne #lmlyd

[happiestplaceonearth-rp]

Welcome Calla! I'm so glad you decided to join us and can't wait to see what you do with Bryan Yarde! Please create and send in your account within twenty four hours. Thank you!

OOC INFORMATION

Name or alias: Calla

Age and timezone: 18, PST

Activity level: Probably a six. I’m really working on bringing my activity up this month, so it could be higher, but I do aim to be on at least a couple days a week.

Experience:  Oh gosh, over three years now, I believe.

Your personal tumblr:  https://onethousandfireflies.tumblr.com

IC INFORMATION

Desired character: Bryan Yarde

Age/Sexuality of character: Twenty-one, Bisexual

Why do you want this character? I may not be a Disney buff, but I watched the Lady and the Tramp movies over and over as a kid, and I still have a ton of love for the characters. I’m also incredibly attracted to the broken characters who do bad things and hurt people because they don’t know any better, who lash out for no reason and act irrationally. I love getting to show off their more human side, to remind people that they really were just sad, scared kids who didn’t get enough love once. Plus, it would be a lot of fun to have him cause mischief around the college!

Second character you’d like if you don’t get this one: Belle Gedeon

Major/Minor: Mechanical Engineering major

Previous role-play account: https://Serecvdw.tumblr.com, https://older-not-wiser.tumblr.com

Role-play sample:

The rain beat down on the tin roof of the tiny building (more of a shed than anything else) that Bryan had claimed for himself, the sound magnified now that he was the only person around. He couldn’t say things were quiet–because when were things ever quiet in the city?–But that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed the absence of Angela’s laugh, or Travis’s shouts of encouragement since they had been gone (how long had it been now, a year? Two? Ten?). The crumpled WDC acceptance papers clutched in his hand felt warm, a presence he couldn’t ignore. He’d never asked to go to college—or maybe he had, when he filled out the application for a laugh, because who would let a guy like him into their school? Well, he’d had never expected to go to college, and yet, now he’d achieved that. Not only achieved it, but won himself a spot in one of the most prestigious schools around. Something kids all over the world would die for. Maybe that’s why he was still considering it. For the first time in his entire life he had something they wanted. (He’d briefly considered that the acceptance had been sent to him by mistake, but he wasn’t above stealing these kinds of things from the people who had truly earned them, so did it really matter? No. It did.)

Would his desire to spite the Richie Rich’s of the world, to throw out a cosmic fuck you to all the people who had looked down on him for having less be enough to make him take the scholarship? The petty, vindictive part of him said yes. It was the part that usually led him to make questionable decisions late at night, so he’d tried to ignore it for as long as possible, but once the idea was in his head, there was no escaping. Why should everyone else get to pick and choose their future like they were playing god, or something? He wasn’t less than they were. (Dirtier, sure. Meaner–probably. But not less than.) He wasn’t even completely sure how the letter had reached him without a permanent address, but he figured it was probably karma. (Was that even how karma worked? He should have payed more attention.) So, it was a yes, then, as crazy as that sounded. What would people think of him; trailer park trash, street rat, good-for-nothing slum kid. Did he care what people thought of him? Only certain people. His fingers beat a steady tattoo of conflicted feelings out on his leg, crossed on the small cot he’d bummed from the back of a mattress store. They would look down on him, too, from their new ivory towers of money and excess, he decided. It seemed only right that he show them they weren’t special for using mommy and daddy’s money to buy their way into the academy. Whether they realized it or not, conning their way into the bleeding hearts of Mr. and Mrs. Billionaire didn’t make them better than him.

But what would happen to his—to their—home once he was gone? The thing he had fought so hard for that no one else seemed to care about would probably be raided within a week. Could he really stand having nowhere to return to? If he were being honest, it was a yes. Home had never been about the place anyway, so what did it matter if he had to move eventually. It was settled then, no reservations, no holds barred. He had no reason to turn down the slot at the school. Right? But he was still Bryan Yarde, chronic underachiever, who had never worked for anything serious in his life. And why should he have when just staying alive and out of jail was a full-time job? Still, the feeling that he might not succeed at this sat at the edge of his mind. It was one thing to never try. That just made him lazy. Lazy he could live with. Failure was different. Failure was something he had only experienced a few times in his short life, but none of the experiences were ones he wished to repeat. Or to relive, he told himself harshly. If he were a failure, he could no longer pretend that he was right and they were wrong. Did he really care about their opinions? Only when they thought badly of him. The other voice inside his head, smaller and hoarse from unuse shouted show them. Prove to them that they shouldn’t have left you behind. Remind them that you’re just as good as they are, even if you don’t live in a McMansion. You’re so scared to fail? So don’t.

He stood up off the cot and searched for a pen. Tomorrow he would accept the spot at the school, give it the good old college try. (Did that mean trying hard or hardly trying? He hoped it was the former.) He wouldn’t fail because he couldn’t fail here. He didn’t know if he wanted his former friends to regret moving on, or to realize that they weren’t better than he was, but either way he was certain he could show them. He was a street rat through and through, and he knew how to play dirty to get what he wanted.

A song that you feel explains your character and why: this was overkill but I couldn’t pick just one

Another Life to Lose – Greg Laswell

Wake Up – Eden

Youth – Daughter

Anything else?:

Headcanons!

Bryan picked mechanical engineering for a major because he knew he would fail if he tried anything remotely academic. But fixing things with his hands, building and creating and destroying? That he could do easily.

For all of his bravado, Bryan does know–albeit deep down–that he drove his friends away. He realizes that he’s been unreasonable, and in some cases, cruel. He just doesn’t know how to fix that. Anger is the only way he’s ever known to express himself, and this situation is no different from any of the others (even if his anger should really be directed towards himself).

Although Bryan may pretend not to care about academics, he’s actually pretty fascinated by the courses he’s taking. Learning how the world works, how people’s brains work, why the universe looks the way it looks is endlessly amazing to him. He’s never understood things quite this way before, never come across so many people who are merely interested in handing him information without strings attached. He likes it in ways he can’t describe, but he can’t help feeling like he’s an imposter here at the school.

Despite what his advisors and professors say, he’s pretty sure he’ll end up right back on the street after he finishes school, but hey. At least he’s got these next couple years of housing and food figured out. He can worry about what to do with his useless degree later.

#accepted.

[misunne]

OKAY SO a couple days ago I had an Amazing plotting session with @sheildoversword about how Loki views and interacts with Steve at the beginning of my post-Ragnarok verse, where he’s staying at the Stark Tower. This was in a discord conversation, so it’s pretty unorganized in thoughts and informal in wording. I took out Amy’s responses which prompted mine, but tried to label what we were talking about...

I have a lot of emotions about a Loki/Steve dynamic. 

Loki’s behavior toward Steve

At first, Loki is a bully to Steve -- but he does come to appreciate him through enough work and plotting. Their compatibility is the most difficult out of all the Avengers (and Clint, for obvious reasons). I have Loki spending post-Ragnarok living in the Stark Tower or a nearby apartment, essentially under vigilance or ‘house arrest’ and bound to the Avengers. Whether he is inducted into the Avengers is plot-based, but I like him to be. But either way, he’s in a situation where he’s not Steve’s enemy right now. They’re not attacking each other whenever they’re in the same room, so they’re just in a sort of allied truce. Loki’s reactions to him aren’t directly antagonistic, but they’re not friendly, either.

To start, Loki sees Steve as insufferable, because he only sees the obvious about him. A righteous poster boy who couldn't possibly understand him. So he pushes back.

How Loki feels about Steve

Steve is probably the one Loki resents the most, because of what he sees in him first. The perfect blond haired blue eyed apple of everyone's heart poster boy. Steve is essentially, in Loki's view, everything he is not, and could never be. To Loki, Steve is like Thor, but without the benefit of having Loki's love for centuries, so he hates him. He mocks him. Essentially, he doesn't take him seriously at all. He just seems like an action figure to him, a funny little man in a red, white, and blue jumpsuit with heroic catchphrases. He definitely sees Captain America first and foremost -- and that's not Steve Rogers. Even when Steve is trying to be Steve, Loki still sees Captain America without the mask, and sees him as inferior. He sees all the avengers as inferior, and he feels like he can treat them how he wants. Banner is a nuisance and a nervous boy who he can poke, but run when he gets angry. Tony is probably the best initially, because he's a genius even without magic, and Loki respects genius. Natasha is probably second best, because she managed to trick Loki, and he can respect skills of the trade. Clint is a child, barely worth a breath or desire to connect with (though in the back of his mind, he also feels a deep sense of guilt that makes him want to keep his distance for what Loki did to him). Fury and Coulson are Nothing, they're tiny humans.

Essentially, Loki really doesn't know Steve Rogers at all, and doesn't feel he should be bothered to.

Loki’s disrespect for Steve

This depends on how a specific Steve reacts to Loki, but Steve is likely to be aiming toward diplomacy when interacting with Loki at this point. To Loki’s view, this appears as though he’s receiving a second chance, and because Steve may or may not be directly hostile toward him,Loki perceives this as kindness. A path toward redemption. Though he is in the process of seeking out his own redemption, the thought isn’t completely formulated yet in the beginning. And now he’s witnessing a perceived kindness, when really -- Loki doesn't even see his own redemption, so how can he take Steve's kindness seriously? He thinks it's weakness. In the back of his head, he's lik: why is this man being nice to me,  I literally tried to kill him and his planet? He's being nice to me, not trying to kill me? How weak of him.

So, he gets used to it. Steve the Captain America Hero Boy becomes steve the Unrelenting Nice Boy. Loki likes to cast people into baskets and walk away. They are this, they are always this, that's the end, I'm done thinking about this. He doesn't always recognize dimension. He doesn't see how Thor has changed throughout the movies. Doesn't ever expect him to. When he sees he has, he's like oh. I don't like what I've become. I want to change this. I think once Steve STOPS trying to be diplomatic and push back at him, try to get him off the team, or maybe even yell at him or punch him, Loki will have another ‘oh.’ moment. This guy who I assumed would just be nice and the courteous America poster boy, who I've been taking for granted, is no longer being nice. I don't like this

Because if someone is nice to him, he thinks he can control them and use their kindness against them. He doesn't foresee kindness AND inner strength put against him. That's what startled him so much in Ragnarok and a little in The Dark World. Thor, who has always tried to love and redeem and care for him, is turning against Loki because of his shitty actions. Loki sort of thinks that no matter how shitty he is, he expects Thor to always love him and be on his side no matter what. Even if he stabs him repeatedly, Thor is Supposed to be there for him. And when he's not? ('maybe we should go our separate ways.') It's extremely jarring. But it's good. It's healthy. He's seeing kindness in a new light. He starts to learn that he can’t keep pushing his loved ones and expect them to stay. He stops thinking about only himself, and he starts thinking outside of himself.

Earning Loki's respect is so hard and so annoying… When i just want to make him hug people but he's like no they're Peasants.

Loki learning to respect Steve

Because Loki and Steve are on the 'same team', as in two people who are in the same room and they're not actively trying to kill each other, Loki sees them on the same side, so he thinks he can keep flicking him. And pushing him. And prodding him. And he'll keep doing it until he lands on his ass, because that's just how he is. He doesn't learn until he experiences consequences. He doesn't listen, he has to witness. He has to come to a conclusion on his own. Steve threatening to kick his ass and being 100% serious about it will do it. Even if Loki's like 'really?' and Steve is like yeah really and Punches him, Loki will be like oh. We're on the same team, you're not actively trying to kill me, but you won't take my shit. Okay. This is weird. And different. Time to reevaluate.

He has to recalibrate a thought he's already accepted because now it's false. Starts being less joking around Steve, more Watching him. Starting to take him more seriously and actually witnessing him, rather than ignoring the reality of him and being set on the image of him. And he's So Uncomfortable with it. After enough time, he'll apologize. Sort of. Not so much in words, but in actions. He only apologizes if he's on his death bed really.

If Steve does punch him or otherwise snap at him, it will probably be a large stepping stone in him becoming a real person. Realizing consequences to his actions. He's always been drama. Take over the world but fail? It's fine, I'll go to jail, but I'll bide my time to break out of jail. Try to slaughter the frost giants but fail? No problem, I’ll just jump off into the void if push comes to shove. He really has an issue of absolutely no accountability because he's SO GOOD at having a backup plan in every situation. His catchsaves keep him from realizing that he fucked up. Even if he so totally loses, he knows how to turn it into a win. (Which is also why he sees the trials he faces in the Avengers as one of the many trials a hero goes through when trying to do good, rather than heroes trying to stop a villain.) BUT seeing as he's in this organization that will give him something he wants, redemption, and if he wants to stay in this place he wants to be... he has to be genuine. He hates being genuine. That's extremely vulnerable. That hurts way too much. Being real. Whenever he's real, his heart falls out.

Loki isn't really used to fucking up in ways he actually wants to fix. He fucks up? meh whatever i don't need that thing anyway. I'm perfectly fine Being Alone forever. He can totally choke on his pride. But he's also choking on his loneliness. After being shoved into his place and he wants to stay here, he'll try to rebuild. Subtly meet Steve halfway, even if not outwardly. (Because people pointing out that he's changed and is being good makes him very self-conscious and more likely to act the villain.) Meeting him halfway is really just Loki coming to respect him. His respect changes an entire dynamic. He's very intuitive. He knows if he's going to respect someone automatically or not just by meeting them. Basically if they fit his perspective of what a respectable person is. rich, majestic, powerful, confident, commanding, superior.

Loki’s reaction to Thor’s mistrust in him

He’s disoriented, because he always had Thor, no matter how many times he messed up. and it wasn't ever REALLY that much of a problem before the events in the films. yes, he's always been a tricky shit. but he was mostly here for a laugh. chaotic neutral with a range to chaotic good, never chaotic evil. he was always there to start shit, but he never wanted to kill a race. until shit hit the fan. until he learned that he is a monster -- in all accounts of what he's been taught, he IS a villain. and then with this brain seed of villainy getting its roots, he's subjected to thanos and torture and the mind stone, and it fruits itself into a villain tree with ambition for killing. he wasn't always this way, and now that he is. he doesn't know how to go back. thor doesn't know how to handle this Extreme Loki. loki doesn't even know how to handle this Extreme Loki. it's like he's been in a mania for YEARS and now, starting in TDW, he's coming down and it's like a jet running out of fuel and it's destabilized and shifting right and left and it's going to burn out and crash into a mountain. thor's reaction to him, now treating him with caution and mistrust, makes it So Much Worse bc there's no buffer to the way he comes down. he has no parachute or air bag. he's gonna hit the ground with his face. it's gonna hurt.

Loki sees men as expendable

In interaction with Steve, because there’s such a difference between being a god and being human. thor and loki (though not as bad as ODIN) more or less have been raised to see the common man as expendible. thor is in the recovery of this, loki less so, but war and battle is So glorified in their culture that their idea of heaven is an endless war/battle and feasting cycle. but what do they know? they're gods. they don't die. they're at the very top, they don't see a little guy without a chance fighting a war he never chose to fight. they don't know anyone who isn't a highly skilled god warrior. they don't understand peace

Who is Loki trying to be?

the conflict loki has in thor 1 was amplified and exacerbated so much more by thanos rather than given time to heal. like having a bullet wound and cutting it open until it's ten times bigger. he was on the edge of a cliff with his shitty things in thor 1, but he could have recovered from that if not for thanos. now it's gonna take Much More to recover. because he's someone else now, and that mind stone effect won't ever Really go away. h o n e s t l y loki is someone who really does need limits. in romance, in friendship, in partnership, in everything. and steve is doing it right. put him back in his place but still be there for him? tbh steve is gonna earn himself a cosmically annoying pain in the ass loyal to him to the end. IT'S ALSO REALLY COOL BC LIKE. thor exemplified that life. the warrior norse who would go to valhalla. loki actually never Was that, and he's been struggling to Be that. so many times he's trying ardently to be what he's not. now seeing thor change from that, and being told he doesn't need to be that really agitates him. like working toward one goal and it was a false goal. r o u g h

#* ｡✧ ━ ⦅ headcanon. ⦆ #and it continues after but we started joking and sharing cat pictures instead