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strawberryya · 4 months

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The art of seduction - part one

pairing: jeong yunho x reader

synopsis: Since she left you, it feels like your life has been turned upside down, and you're struggling to find your footing. He sees that, and he wants to help. Or maybe it's not as pure as that. Perhaps he's just looking for a new plaything — an artist to inspire, or someone to slowly destroy.

word count: 4.5k

genre/cw: angst, smut, suggestive, fantasy, thriller and/or romance, yandere themes, supernatural au, faery au, leanan sídhe!yunho, human!reader, they/them pronounces for reader, I tried my best to keep all descriptions gn as well - I welcome all feedback on this area ofc, grief and death depicted/mentioned, specific smut warnings will be listed in each part.

rating: 18+

a/n: this has been a big project for so many people this year, and I would like to thank all of the inspiring people in this collab for all the fantastic ideas that has been contributed to make all of these fics possible. it has been a journey writing this, but this fic is only the beginning of the even longer journey that yunho and our mc will be going on ;)

this is part one of my first fic for the wonderful collaboration thrill of the hunt, hosted by @cultofdionysusnet - check out the other exciting and thrilling stories on the official master list here!

the second part to this story will be found here once it's posted. if you wish to be tagged in the continuation you can dm me, send an ask, or comment on this post <3

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

“Oh, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, y/n! He’s perfect… I didn’t think anyone could be so perfect until he came into my life. He makes me feel like I’ll never need anything ever again… like he and I are enough forever. I need you to meet him someday soon! I wanna introduce you to him, I promise you’ll love him too!”

You never got the chance to meet him. The more you think about it, the more you regret not making more of an effort to do so. Your best friend Anna had been in love with someone, and you hadn’t even had the chance to meet the man she spoke so fondly of.

“I haven’t been feeling very good lately, y/n… I’ve been to the doctors and they say there’s nothing wrong. They said it’s all in my head, that I should go talk to someone… y/n, do you also think I’m making myself sick?”

She only got weaker after that.

And he had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth after she became bedridden.

She said he came to visit, but she wasn’t in her right mind in those final weeks. Nobody had signed in at the reception. Nobody had seen a beautiful man with dark brown hair that gleamed blood-red when the sun shone. During all that time when she was admitted into the psychological ward at the city’s second-largest hospital you and Anna’s mom were the only visitors.

They said she was mad…

You had wondered a lot about who he might’ve been during those times when she had talked about him as if she had just spoken to him, but nobody had seen anyone in her room. Had he been a fraction of her imagination the entire time? Or had her mind created a lie based on a man who had left her before her illness took over her mind and body?

When she passed he was the one piece of the puzzle that you couldn’t let go of. If you had tried harder to meet him, would her illness have been caught earlier? Could it have been found and treated before it took her life…?

You’ve been staying late at the studio lately, trying to get through your feelings about losing her through your art. The shadows in the room seem to close in on you at every chance they get, and you don’t fight them. Hugged by the darkness is somehow better than being left so completely alone.

The brush strokes soothe you like nothing else is able to. Fizzling seas crash along the shore, a looming tree stands barren and alone, and her face appears in the dark clouds.

The only things you know to be true are that: she is gone, you are in pain, and you can only paint this one single picture. The lonesome tree at the cliff, watching the storms and waves trying to pull the ground away from beneath the large oak tree. You paint it over and over again, day after day, and you haven’t even paid any mind to when other artists have come and gone through the studio. People painted right next to you, people posed on the podium in front of you, and you didn’t care about any of it. All that matters to you is that you have been left all alone.

Your best friend has died, and you can’t even do the one thing you have been able to do your entire life ー paint. You had pursued your passion fiercely, not budging even as your parents pleaded with you to be reasonable and try “having a career worth having”, and let painting stay as a hobby. It was how you had met Anna. She was a dancer, and she had gotten into the same art college as you. Back then you had both been carefree young adults, simply trying your best to survive on your own for the first time in your lives. Now, she has left you, with the bittersweet taste of the last conversations you had had with her on your tongue.

“He inspires me you know, I’m just a dancer anymore when he looks at me, I become the air itself.”

You had smiled and nodded at her nonsense, she seemed to be dreaming of it. Her limbs were too weak to be of use, but she had the same smile on her lips as when she performed. You had tried your best not to be mad at her for only speaking of this man even as she lay dying in a hospital, dreaming of her passion was at least better than dreaming of him. The tears had stung your eyes as you held her hand before leaving her to her rambling.

It has been a while since her funeral, and you have practically been living at the studio. Home doesn’t make you feel any better, so you sleep on the small pullout couch in the corner instead. It isn’t meant to be slept on and your back is sore from the many nights in a row you have spent on it. But the art studio is at least comforting you more than home. You have too many memories of Anna in your apartment. Here you can focus on your art. At least, that’s the idea. You have had no inspiration since her death. It’s strange, she hadn’t exactly been the reason you painted, but everything that happened still affected even that part of you.

You had begun questioning if you should give it all up, move home to your parents for a few months, and go back to your waitress job until you had processed all of this. But could you give up on your passion? After years of struggling to pass courses and hustling on the side of your studies just to make it all work? What would Anna say if she knew…?

You aren’t sure how it happened, it might've been a dream. It’s barely been three weeks since Anna’s funeral and you woke up with the clearest picture of a man you had never met in your mind.

He’s handsome, just like she had told you. He has gentle features, and dark, captivating eyes that catch hold of your mind and refuse to let go. You can’t seem to escape the image of the stranger you know in your bones is the same man Anna had known.

Sometime after the day you had first seen him in your mind, after hours in front of your easel and a blank canvas, you finally force yourself to pick up the brush. This couldn’t be the end of pursuing the only career you had ever wanted. You need to get over it and paint something, other than that stubborn tree and the punishing sea. His features burn your eyelids, and you see him as you blink and dream of him as you sleep. You can’t escape the visions, so you make him real, tangible. You create a portrait of the man in your head. Watching the finished portrait once you put down the brush.

You look at it until it gets dark again, staring into his eyes until you fall asleep on the couch in the corner.

You wake up with a headache. You groan quietly since you neither have the energy nor the will to get up and take something for the throbbing pain stemming from the sides of your head. Before you could even summon the will to get up despite this, you almost jumped off the couch in surprise. There is another person in the room. You’re still in the corner of the room, so the stranger might’ve missed that you were even there, you reason. It looks like a man from behind. His short dark hair lay in a rather messy way against the back of his head. He’s turned away from you, watching the painting you had fallen asleep staring at. He’s tall, his shoulders are broad. You panic, because what did this man want, and why was he here in the middle of the night?

“Who are you?” you ask breathlessly, jumping up from the couch, trying to see if he’s someone you know in the dim light. Could he be another artist here to paint at an odd hour? You don’t recognize him, but you aren’t the best at remembering people, so you’re not sure if you should be screaming or apologizing for your hostile greeting.

The man didn’t even flinch at the sound of your voice. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then again, something about him creeped you out. You ignore the fact that he also intrigued you, and try to catch his attention again. “Hey, I asked you a question.” In response, he simply raises a hand as if to shush you.

This man hadn’t just broken into the studio late at night – he was also incredibly rude. The air around him is so still, so calm that it’s giving you chills. You want to see his face. If he was going to murder you, you want to have looked the fucker in the eye so you can, at least, curse his existence. You take a step forward, grabbing a long paintbrush from the drying rack. Maybe you can get his eye if you’re fast enough.

“So aggressive, little dove,” the man finally says. His voice is smooth and deep. It’s an attractive voice, at least your murderer has a nice voice, not that that makes this situation salvageable. You’re still prepared to stab him with the wooden brush in your hand.

“Wouldn’t you be aggressive if you woke up to a stranger in your bedroom as well?”

You had tried putting on a brave face, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how scared you were. He seemed to see through this facade easily though, chuckling at your attempt instead of turning around to face you. “Not your bedroom. I’ve been to your bedroom and this isn’t it. Also, not really a stranger, am I?”

Your breath won’t calm down, and your heart is beating mercilessly in your chest. This man had been in your apartment? And you know him? What the hell is he talking about? “Are you some kind of stalker you fucking creep?” you wheeze out, taking a step away from him.

You desperately wish for this to be some kind of nightmare.

When he turns around you’re sure it is because there’s no way the man you see in front of you isn’t just a fiction of your imagination. Dark hair, streaks of red when the light from the window hits it. Perfect lips, and captivating eyes. It’s him. The man in your painting, alive right in front of you. Your grip on the brush tightens, the bristles folding backward from the pressure of your palm. The world began to spin, he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be real. You see the edges of your vision blur and his smile widens at the visible panic you were displaying.

He was right, he isn’t a stranger.

“I think you might’ve heard about me, little dove. She used to talk about you ー the talented artist she had met in college.”

It couldn’t be, you hear the blood rushing in your ears like thunder. “Who?”

He smiled innocently, “Don’t you remember your friend? Anna, I think her name was.”

No. It couldn’t be true. The brush fell from your hand as you fell to the ground. Your already sleep-deprived mind couldn’t handle the thought that maybe the man Anna had spoken about was real, and right in front of you. Knocking yourself unconscious was the only thing your body could do to stop your heart from giving out.

Have you gone mad as well? Maybe this was your way of grieving? Should you go to the hospital?

The questions spun in your mind. He was gone when you woke up. But the long brush in your hand and the bruises on your knees and shoulder felt like substantial proof that you had not lost your mind. He had been here, you know it, but who would believe you if you told them? Who would even care?

You decide to let it go, instead, you force yourself to go back to your apartment. A change of clothes was needed and you know that the lady down the hallway will be worried after not having seen you for days yet again. She had been at Anna’s funeral, wondering how and why your roommate had passed so quickly at such a young age. You hadn’t known what to answer. You still didn’t have your own answers as to “how” or “why”. At least, none that you could share…

You had managed to shower and get into some clothes when your neighbor knocked on the door.

“Hi, Auntie,” you greet her as she had insisted you do ever since you and Anna had first moved in. She’s older than any of your real aunts, but remarking on that had felt incredibly inappropriate, so you had both simply accepted your fate and begun calling her “Auntie”.

"Darling!" How are you? I haven't seen you here in days! I was beginning to worry. You know, this was just how it was with Anna, I didn’t see her for days and then she would show up saying she had been busy practicing and dating and whatnot!”

You don’t respond, forcing a smile. She meant well, but when she insisted on bringing you some food you wanted to refuse her. She didn’t mind your protests, “Oh, dear child, you don’t even know how sunken your face looks. You need some of my home-cooked food to get your spirits back up!”

In the end, your refrigerator was filled with casseroles and little boxes of different dishes, and a bitter feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be here to eat it. You left your apartment as swiftly as you had arrived, not wanting to stick around long enough to see the traces of a life lived – a life you didn’t feel belonged to you anymore. You brought what you could carry in your bag back to the studio.

You fall asleep again, after hours of trying to create something, only creating more pain in your back from sitting on the wooden stool all afternoon instead. It’s not like you hadn’t tried your best to think about anything else besides him, you had actually tried your very best! But in the end, your mind kept wandering back to the dip of his lips, and the grin on his face as you fainted. You painted the outline of his lips, over and over again.

You hated him.

Would he come back?

He had mocked you with his words.

Why had you felt such a rush when he spoke?

You never wanted to see his perfect face ever again.

Why couldn’t you stop wishing to see him just one more time?

You woke from a cool hand on your hair. Slowly and gently he patted your head until you opened your eyes. It was still dark out, and he was back. Leaning over your sleeping body, a large hand caressing the side of your head. You scream, and he smirks. He shushes you, and you push him away angrily.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout.

“You wanted to see me again, I thought it best to wake you so your wishes could be fulfilled.” His voice coursed through you, giving you goosebumps again. “Don’t be angry with me, little dove.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Don’t lie. It’s not polite,” he retorts as soon as the words leave your mouth.

“I don’t care, I hate you. Leave me alone!” You bark out the words, tears stinging your eyes. You don’t know why you’re reacting so strongly to him.

His tongue darts out to lick at his lips in annoyance. “Little dove,” he chirps menacingly, “Lie one more time and I won’t help you anymore.”

He terrifies you. He’s beautiful, but nothing about him feels true. He’s like those beautiful flowers forever trapped inside glass orbs. You wanted to protect the frozen beauty from getting the slightest scratch and smash it to pieces, all at once.

“Help me…?”

The gentle smile on his lips came back when you revealed that he had managed to pique your interest. “Mm, I help people. Artists, especially… it’s an interest of mine, the arts.” He winked at you, which caught you off guard.

“And you came here to help me?”

He nodded, but you weren’t convinced.

“Why? I didn’t ask for any help from you.”

He looked around the room, gaze wandering over the canvasses you had painted in the last couple of weeks, all depicting the shore and the dead tree. All except two. The portrait of him, and the sketches of his lips.

“You did that?” You ask incredulously. His gaze snaps back to you sharply.

“Of course. Didn’t it feel different? It felt like you had been inspired by something again, did it not?” His voice is honey in your ears, but the sticky feeling is making you want to flee for your life. You don’t.

“Want me to prove it?”

You frown, “What do you mean prove it? Are you going to inspire me to paint something on the spot in the middle of the night?”

“Tell me you want it and I’ll make sure you feel inspired for the rest of your miserable human life, little dove.”

His wording is so unnatural, you think for just a moment. You don’t trust him one bit, but perhaps this is the way to convince yourself that he is indeed just some creep that you need to get away from. You take a deep breath before answering, “I’ll agree if you tell me your name.”

The man stepped back, you had made him flinch. You don’t know why you made that exact demand. Maybe you had just really wanted to call him something other than “the one Anna spoke of” in your mind. It hurt each time you remembered her name.

“A name can be more powerful than you think, little dove,” his tone warned you of something. He seems on edge for the first time since you met him.

You don’t budge, his reaction only makes you more sure that you need to follow your gut. “Tell me, and you can help me.”

He hesitated before seemingly giving in to some innate need that you didn’t understand yet. “Yunho. That’s one of my names… Use it with care, little dove.”

You turned his name around in your mind, tasting the sweet taste on your tongue as you said it out loud. “Yunho… Sure, help me find inspiration to paint again.”

The same excited and menacing grin he had worn the last time you spoke now grace his lips again, and you feel you have committed a horrible mistake.

You look around the room, the sun is rising and casting long shadows from the easels placed around the podium. How has the entire night already passed you by? You have no memory of sleeping. You look at your hands, they are covered in paint. Why had you been so messy? You couldn’t remember right away. You know that you have painted. Yunho had kissed your hand, you can still remember the heat of his breath on your skin. Then you had picked up your brush. You hadn’t been frightened by the fact that you weren’t in control of your actions. After the weeks of forcing yourself to do the most basic human functions to stay alive, having something else move your hand in your stead was somehow freeing.

When you look at the canvas your breath stops. It’s him, you have painted him again. He’s not completely like himself, however, he is just as captivating in the picture as he is in reality. You had managed to capture his beautiful features, from the way his cupid’s bow dips graciously on his lips, to the way his hair gleams blood red when light shines through it. But behind him is something new, something you have never seen belonging to a human before. Wings, almost translucent wings, appearing on the canvas as a shimmer of light blue and white, adorned with shimmering ruby gemstones. He looked magnificent.

“Pretty,” you hear his voice whisper on your neck before you feel his soft lips press against your skin. You shiver, it feels good but you’re still in shock, watching the man who’s behind you on the canvas in front of you.

“How is this possible?” you mumble.

“You were inspired,” he responds calmly, brushing your hair away from your face from behind. “Did you enjoy it?”

You have a feeling that the answer to that is yes, but you also know you shouldn’t reveal that. “I don’t remember.”

“I think you did… I know you did.”

The way he seems to know everything, even the things you don’t, scares you a bit. But you might be addicted to the feeling of his touch, you’re addicted to what he can do to you, addicted to what he makes you feel deep inside. He has given you your passion back, he has helped you paint again, and you had enjoyed it this time. This shouldn’t be possible. Why does this man have so much power over you that he could help you paint as you had used to, for the first time since Anna’s passing?

There’s no way he’s human, no human looked like he did. In the morning light, he was even more dashing, even more unreal. You want to smash his perfect exterior to pieces and see the flower inside rot as the air hits its delicate petals.

“Go away. I don’t want this,” you choke out, pushing down the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. He kisses your neck again, but you don’t move. “I think I’ll die if I don’t end this Yunho. Please, just leave me alone.”

“It’s possible, but maybe you’ll be the one who makes it out alive.” His honey voice rang in your ears as the day began and his touch against your back disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep. You knew everything was wrong, Yunho was wrong. But there was nothing you could do about it anymore.

Two days passed without so much as a glimpse of Yunho. The hours of the night when he didn’t come to see you had almost been enough to convince you that you had truly gone mad. But then, suddenly, there he was, as dashing as ever. Pretty eyes watching you stare at an empty easel.

A chilling chuckle escaped him, nothing more. He stands and gazes upon your hopeless state for a while in silence. You will never get rid of him, you realize. You’re not upset about it. You can’t be upset. Nothing feels real anymore.

Yunho circles you, a predator watching his prey. You don’t flinch under his gaze this time. When he leans his lean body against the stool next to yours you feel disgusted. You weren’t upset that he would never leave you alone, but you deserved to know why, at least.

“What do you want from me?”

“Want?” He sounds almost offended.

“You’re not here just because it’s fun to sit around and watch me paint all day.”

He didn’t give you an answer, he just smiled at you with that perfectly enchanting smile of his. He’s dangerous, his beauty is dangerous. He leans forward on the stool, his face now scarily close to yours. Will he kiss you…? You can feel Yunho’s breath, hot against your lips, his gaze burning as he stares into your eyes and flickers down to your mouth. Do you want him to kiss you…?

What do you want from him?

You almost forget that he hasn’t given you an answer when he bends forward, his lips inches away from yours. This time you do flinch. Can he read your mind too? No, your eyes stare right back into his, a flash of maroon tints his irises an unnatural color before it disappears just as fast as it showed up.

His thumb drags across the side of your cheek, a small smirk plays on Yunho’s deceptive lips. “I’ll make you a promise,” he whispers, “I promise to make sure you’re motivated to do what you love the most, for the rest of your life.”

His breath burns hot against your wet lips. You want to kiss him. “A promise…?” you exhale, mind not quite able to focus on his words, but they sound good to you right now. You swallow, eyes flickering to his perfectly shaped cupid bow, his rosy lips, and the tongue that teases behind his plump lips. “What… what would I have to do…?”

“A clever dove, I knew you would ask the right questions.”

You didn’t truly understand though, too distracted by Yunho’s eyes mirroring your flickering gaze, teasingly watching the way your hands fiddled with the brush in your hand.

“All you have to do in return is say that you agree, and I will fulfill all of your wishes.” His soothing hand moves around to the nape of your neck, his grip gentle but secure.

Will he fulfill them all?

Does it even matter? Almost anything would be good enough to accept right now, at least you can’t think of something that would be worse than walking through life as the zombie you had been since… Since Anna’s death. If you accept his proposal, will you find out what happened to her?

“I agree.”

Your stomach flips when plush lips are pressed against yours. It seems he had already begun living up to his word. At least he wasn’t playing a trick on you when it came to that part. His hands travel over your body, he knows exactly how to touch you the way you like it. Has he been watching you for a long time? Or is it something magical, like those shimmery wings you had imagined he had? You’re not sure, but knowing could wait until later. Right now you have a couple of needs. Needs that Yunho had promised to fulfill. His leg firmly presses open your legs, strong muscle relieving some of the intense pressure that had built up in your lower abdomen since the thought of having him in this way had sprouted in your mind. You need more. You close your eyes even tighter as you let the brush fall from your grip. Hands moving across Yunho’s perfect form without hesitation.

The sound of the brush hitting the floor didn’t reach your ears. You were already lost to the world of humans.

“Do you believe in fairies? I do. I think there are things we don’t know in this world. Magical things. If I could go there I would, I think it’s a beautiful place, nothing like Earth. I’d want to dance for them…”

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

#kwritersworldnet #thrill of the hunt #yunho smut #ateez imagines #ateez smut #yunho angst #ateez x reader #atz #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #ateez yunho

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davidfarland · 2 years

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Recognizing Your Own Skill

When you write a story, you often have to ask yourself, “Is this tale good enough to send to editors or agents? Is it ready to publish? Could it be a bestseller?” Oddly enough, you as the author may be a terrible judge of your own work.

This principle was brought up to me years ago by my mentor, Algis Budrys. He was a leading critic for a major newspaper and a magazine, so he read widely. He once mentioned to me that, “For 20 years, I’ve asked well-known authors, ‘Which one of your books do you think is the best?’ Almost always they get it wrong. They don’t pick the books that the public likes best, or that the critics like best, but choose instead something that deals with conflicts that are especially powerful to them. Almost always, the author chooses some . . . obscure book that no one else would look at twice.”

It’s an important principle to remember when you finish a novel. You may think that it’s great. After having just gone through your “birthing pains,” you look at your newborn and it seems beautiful to you. But maybe it’s not quite so beautiful to others.

Most people are pretty bad judges of their own efforts. Years ago, there was a newspaper story about a man who believed that if he rubbed lemon juice on his face, it would make him invisible to cameras. So he rubbed some lemon juice on his face and went out and robbed some banks. When the police caught him, he was astonished that they had been able to recognize him.

Some researchers at Cornell University learned of the incident and wondered how the man could be so self-deluded. So they performed a study in which they tested people’s powers of logic, recognition of humor, and so on.

What they found was fascinating. The people who scored lowest, in the bottom 12 percentile, very often thought that they had performed fantastic!

In the same way, we as authors sometimes delude ourselves. People who need a lot of work sometimes act like prima donnas. They can’t figure out why the rest of the world doesn’t recognize their talent—including editors, agents, literary critics, and their own spouses.

You’ve probably met such a person. Very often they will attach themselves to writing groups, trying to feed their egos, and then promptly drive away anyone who has any common sense.

But, amazingly, I often find that the opposite is true: many truly great authors often don’t recognize their own gifts. If they really are great, they seem to doubt it, and therefore belittle themselves. They might be too frightened to send stories to editors or agents, fearing rejection.

Now, it’s interesting that in the study that I mentioned, many people who were painfully unaware of their own inabilities often proved to be quite successful. For example, managers in companies might be terrible at many tasks, but their own sense of self-importance assures them of a measure of success. You remember the saying, “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread”? I’ve had bosses who did that. They’d promise a customer, “Sure, we can get the job done by tomorrow,” hoping to add some functionality to an existing bit of software, and suddenly they had to pull a team of a hundred programmers together to try to do the impossible. Sometimes, our teams even managed to do the impossible—and that’s the genius of it!

But usually, our old manager ended up with a bit of egg on his face.

Now, incompetent writers will make similar promises. They overpromise and under-deliver. But at least they deliver.

An author who suffers from low self-esteem, on the other hand, may not deliver at all.

So what are we to do? I think that we need to find the courage to work at our writing. Sometimes, look to others for opinions. If you give a manuscript to ten people and three of them tell you that you’ve got a problem, then fix the dang problem. Don’t argue and sashay around and call them all idiots.

Meanwhile, if you write a story and ten people tell you that you’re amazing, then use it as fuel to get yourself writing, to push harder and work longer, so that you continue to improve and write more amazing works.

#writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writeblr #writing help

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nessiopeia · 5 months

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I used to work at this bookstore in Texas, and, being a tall, gender non-conforming transexual woman, many of my interactions with customers went weird. But, there’s one that stands out. I was working at the customer service kiosk and received a call from an older woman looking for a very specific art book that she used to own but couldn’t recall the name of. It was a collection of the illustrations of Audrey Beardsley that her late husband got rid of. After gathering together some copies of his work that we had, the customer had me look for some specific images that would help her know if it was the one. She referenced that one of them had something to do with Salomé and with that to go on I found this:

My luck being the employee who had to describe images of naked trans women to this old lady. So, I said “I found two illustrations of women-“ and she was like “they’re very provocative images aren’t they?” and goes on this lecture of Audrey Beardsley and how he struggled with his sexuality and how he died, and then talked about how much she loved these images and how her husband got rid of it because he felt they were disgusting.

She had me put all the books on hold so she could come pick them up on the weekend.

That weekend I was working register when an old lady came up and said she had placed some books on hold earlier in the week. She didn’t need to give her name, that 30 minute phone call was a enough to sear her voice in my head. I brought them over and she excitedly thanked me and asked me to thank the “kind lady” that helped her find them to which I said, “Actually that was me! You’re welcome.”

I’ve always had a bad sense of whether people know I’m trans or not. Even back then living in Texas I didn’t get misgendered very often by people I just met. In some cases people I worked with for years seemed to not know. They maam’d me and didn’t strike me as being the type of person to be good at respecting trans people. However, there were so many moments where, when talking to someone who assumed I’m just a cis girl, I would do something that would break that illusion. What it was I never understood. Social rules and norms I never learned. I’d analyze these exchanges under a microscope and always come out less sure of what went wrong.

I told her it was me. She looked up at me, narrowed her eyes, and then got that expression cis people get when they realize your trans. She turned white, stuttered an apology, said she changed her mind and then quickly left. I think about this exchange a lot because with most people, I don’t know how they feel about my transsexuality. Not with her. She thought we were provocative, fetishistic, fantastical, secret. She waited until her husband died to take another peek at just a drawing of girl dick. She must have thought I was like her when I didn’t shame her for liking these illustrations over the phone. She wasn’t prepared for me to be like her secret drawings instead.

I realize that obsession with trans people is sometimes the mark of an egg. In many ways, Audrey Beardsley’s drawings and writings point to that. A part of me certainly want to hold space for them, to be patient with people as they struggle through it. But, I only have so much patience, and there’s this way that people fear and desire transexuality that grates against what it is for me. Being trans is sacred and powerful, but it is also a fairly boring reality that I never leave and I would never want to. At the end of his life Beardsley wrote this:

“Jesus is our Lord and Judge.

Dear Friend,

I implore you to destroy all copies of Lysistrata and bad drawings … By all that is holy, all obscene drawings.

Aubrey Beardsley

In my death agony.”

I am fortunate that the people and art that introduced being trans to me didn’t treat it like this. I’m thankful that for all my fear it never felt like it did for Audrey Beardsley. I have to imagine his fear contributed to how that woman viewed it. Our exchange made me feel like an obscene, beyond fantasy monster. Impossible and provocative. Confronting me as an actual possibility so severely scared her that she went outside and waited for the driver from the senior home to come back. A trip she told me on the phone she makes rarely as a 90 something year old. I can’t know what she wanted with trans people: to be one or to fuck one or whatever. I wonder if she realized how alike her and Audrey Beardsley are. Hatred is easy for me to handle. I’m used to being thorny and tough. This was different. The way she looked at me like I was a ghost, the shame in her voice as she apologized, her hands shaking as she put the books down on the counter; I hated it so much. It was hard to admit, but she made me realize that I didn’t have the capacity to help others heal from the way gender impacts us all. All I had in me was anger.

I’ve spent the years since trying to be less angry. It’s so hard to be trans and know it saved you, and to see others treat it with fear and disgust. I don’t think how she treated me was right. But, unlike all the transphobes I dealt with, I do think about her a lot. And, I hope she ended up getting a copy of that book eventually.

#trans musings #transexual #Audrey Beardsley #retail hell

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trashlie · 1 year

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ILY FP 220

CW for abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, etc. Sorry for the minor spoiler, but we’re digging into the way Yui has manipulated and abused Kousuke since he was young and that might be triggering to some readers.

Whoo BOY! Idk about you guys but I loved this episode (I keep saying this every week lmao). Again, there’s so much confirmation of things I’ve been saying/believing, and I find it really funny that this arrived on the cusp of a related discussion I’ve been having lol. This time, I’m also going to link to some interesting posts/threads from the 220 discussion post on the reddit, because they are presented really well, and while I’ll talk about them in this post, I want to highlight the comments that have furthered my thoughts and commentary! The reddit discussion posts are really what helps me put my thoughts together!

I am a big fan of this comment and the subsequent replies between them and cheeselounge; good explanation of exactly how Yui’s manipulation/gas lighting/abuse works and why it maintains a compelling hold on Kousuke, as well as some good food for thought about black and white vs shades of grey, the ableism that runs rampant when people on a whole talk about Kousuke, and how harmful it is to view characters as 100% innocent or guilty. Also really fantastic points on the parallels of how Shinae, Nol, and Kousuke are shown waking in the hospital. Just an all around top tier comment!

This is my own comment lol but what is important is not the comment itself but the discussion in the replies. I’m not a medical person so everyone’s input on what it means for Yui to shut down Hansuke’s tests is invaluable to me lol. Someone also brought up blood type - and while I don’t think that’s something Hansuke would be testing, it does bring up interesting thoughts re: Kousuke’s parentage.

So let’s get into it!

I know it’s tacky to be an “I told you so!” person but this episode, besides making me feel incredibly unsettled and angry, absolutely made me feel I TOLD YOU SO! Yui is SO skilled at manipulation it’s like second nature to her. Every now and then I still see people defending Yui as loving Kousuke so much that the way she treats him can’t possibly be manipulation, and that you can’t prove it’s manipulation - and like. THAT’S THE THING LOL Textbook abuse is often met with people who don’t believe it because they’ve never seen it, because you’re being so dramatic, because it’s not big deal. That’s how abuse WORKS. The abuser is seen as someone who couldn’t possibly be abusing you, because they do so many nice things or they seem so lovely and they just don’t seem like an abuser~. That’s why it works!!!! Because they have created a reasonable cause of doubt. Because they make YOU look like the liar, like you’re dramatic, like you’re just making a big deal out of things that aren’t.

Also, people can say they love you and still abuse you, still hurt you, still use you for their own gain. And Yui does just that.

It’s been a source of great ire to me that so much of what Yui has done has been swept under an umbrella of “she just loves him so much of course she wants the best for him”. But it’s not about him, and we can see that now! Yui doesn’t respond to Kousuke with love or affection. She has NO CONCERN about what happened to him. In fact, even as Hansuke tries to argue in favor of running tests on Kousuke, Yui tries it on him. “He’s dramatic, you know that. I know him well, and I know he’s fine. You are making a big deal out of nothing. We don’t want to make him think something is wrong with him do we?” Hansuke is the only one showing concern for Kousuke. It’s not just about him hitting his head - it’s about the unresponsive state in which he found Kousuke. It’s that HE knows Kousuke and HE knows something happened, something set him off, and that he responded to it in a worrying way!

Yui SHOULD be concerned about Kousuke. She should want to understand, she should worry that something is going on with him. Instead, she just tries to pretend it’s nothing, to sweep it under the rug, to hide it not just from everyone else but from HIMSELF. “We don’t want him to think something’s wrong with him, do we?”

But it’s not just that, it’s the way she operates! For so long I’ve been trying to say that while Rand is very much responsible for his choices, I believe Yui absolutely has affected his relationship with Kousuke and encouraged/fostered the distance between them. If Kousuke ever got close to Rand, maybe he would have laid off, calmed down, felt that he’d reached his goal and now he didn’t have to run so hard. But as long as that goal is unmet, as long as Rand is distant from him, Kousuke would have to keep pushing until he reaches the top, just like she wants.

It’s the way she took Rand’s real gift and threw it out and replaced it with some random cardigan that looks like it’s not up to Kousuke’s standards. “How sweet of him” so sweet that he doesn’t know what his son likes, right? So sweet that he just got you whatever and you’re supposed to like it. She’s further fostering that divide. Not only has Kousuke not reached Rand, but he looks like he doesn’t know anything about him, like he doesn’t even care. And that’s further supported by the reality of the night - Kousuke knows Rand is with Nol and while on some level he understands why (even he was concerned about Nol being hurt) eventually he might internalize it as “Father chose Nol over me.”

How many times has Yui intervened? Swapped out gifts? Relayed the wrong information, just FORGOT to relay the right information. How convenient, that Rand was never around for Kousuke’s birthday because he had meetings elsewhere. How convenient, that Rand never knew when Kousuke’s recitals or EVEN GRADUATION were. I want to reiterate I think Rand deserves critique. He has made his choices, he could have reached out to Kousuke, could have inquired about when his events are. But also as we’ve extensively discussed, Yui absolutely has and continues to weaponize what Rand loves and cares about against him. She’s weaponized it against Kousuke in how she commodified the concept of love and Rand’s love. She’s done it to Nol. At some point, people give up. There’s only so much misery they can endure. It’s very likely that Rand made efforts, in the beginning. We’ve seen him talk to Kousuke before about how he doesn’t have to follow in his footsteps, that he’s allowed to be whatever he wants. We’ve seen him try to instill little life lessons in Kousuke, only for Yui to swoop in and contradict him. At some point a person is going to burn out, grow tired. It’s unfair to Kousuke, because as his father, Rand still has a duty to him. But he’s also a human and we can only take so much.

Rand and Yui exist in a toxic relationship, and Rand has spent so much of that time in a state of misery. We’ve seen it in Nol, how at some point he thought maybe he should give up, maybe there’s no point in fighting, maybe he just needs to let it go. We’ve seen it in Shinhan, who was overwhelmed by stress and his job and schooling and didn’t have the time and energy to be a present father and at some point turned to alcohol for comfort even at the expense of their funds.

People can only endure so much. That’s the tragedy of Rand and Kousuke - that Rand was eventually worn down to such an extent that he didn’t have it in him to keep trying, that he was sapped of everything, that it was used against him time and time again, and that in the end it hurts Kousuke. That there were two children involved and impacted by this and both have come to meet danger and harm.

I have so many thoughts about Rand, and Rand and Yui, and I’ll have to save them for another post. I don’t want to absolve Rand of his crimes against his children, but I also think it’s important to consider the circumstances, because at the end of the day that’s why this is so tragic. It’s so real. Yui is not the first parent to ever pit her child against her spouse, she isn’t the first person to manipulate others in her life. It doesn’t absolve the other parent, but we have to acknowledge the circumstances, because I don’t believe this is the father Rand wanted to be. I think he wanted to have a relationship with his son, but that Yui made it a difficult task, and after some time, he gave up on it.

Anyway that’s a whole sidebar lmao the point I REALLY wanted to make was: seeing Yui pull this, swap out the gift, replace it with something that is unsuited for Kousuke just further fosters that distance between Rand and Yui. And because Yui is the one who is here when Kousuke wakes up, it further perpetuates the belief that Kousuke is not good enough for Rand to care about him - especially given the circumstances in which Rand found Kousuke.

Do we ever get to know what’s going on in Rand’s head? What did he think, when he found his sons out there in the snow? What did he think, when it looked like Kousuke was running away from Nol left bloodied and bleeding out in the snow? What did he think about this scene, after the phone call he had earlier that night with Kousuke and what he overhead. We still don’t know what Kousuke said the night he was drunk and left his father a voicemail, but we can deduce that it probably had to do with this - with his relationship with Nol and the hate and the jealousy and the fear and the desperate want to be loved, to be good enough?

The blood is on his hands both metaphorically and physically.

Something I want to stress is how grey I find this. Kousuke acted on Nol’s goading. If he hadn’t pushed Kousuke’s buttons, Kousuke would not have done it. Punching him as he was leaving the room was a fight or flight response - I don’t think it was his intention to knock him off the balcony - but I also think in that moment he didn’t feel guilt. Likewise, when Nol left the party, Kousuke chased after him, caught up in his fears and jealousy, the paranoia that stems from it. In so many ways, Kousuke does believe Nol is better than him. Nol’s ability to walk away and not fight back not just at the party, but even after he chased him, infuriated him, because he was goaded into chasing and attacking and yet Nol didn’t even choose to defend himself. Did he intentionally slam Nol like that knowing the glass shards would dig in and tear him up? Did he even register the glass?

What really strikes me is that when Kousuke realizes Nol is injured - badly - it doesn’t come across to me like he’s afraid of getting in trouble for it. He seems genuinely concerned that something has happened to Nol, that he’s bleeding. He wanted Nol to fight back, but I don’t think he wanted to HURT him like that? His reaction is so different from back at the party, where paranoia clouded logic and that flashback returned to him. I think yes, Kousuke wanted to hurt Nol, but I don’t think he wanted it to be like this?

Idk they’re complicated and it’s why I enjoy getting to see these kinds of scenes.

But again, this is a tangent I didn’t mean to go on, but I think it’s important to state so that you guys understand how and why I interpret the scenes as I do. There is no one who is 100% guilty or innocent.

I definitely think we are meant to dig in to Yui’s actions and understand the manipulation and gaslighting that has gone on for the entirety of Kousuke’s life. That it isn’t solely about Nol, that even before him, she was doing this, that Kousuke as her son has always been a means to her self-serving goals and ambitions, that he was never a child to her but this extension of herself, this opportunity to go after what she wants, a way to cut Rand out of the picture so that everything falls back into the hands of her family. Though Kousuke she is able to orchestrate everything she wants and needs because he is solely at her mercy.

Look at how deftly she discredits Hansuke while ensuring she is seen as the one who has the most concern for him. Look at how she makes it look as though Hansuke was trying something shady, to run tests on him without his consent, how can he overstep those boundaries - as if she doesn’t do that very thing at every opportunity. That’s how it works! You isolate your victim by making them believe everyone is out to harm them, that no one is trustworthy - no one except yourself, of course. It’s how she remains that safe shelter to him. Even though she does overstep his boundaries, even though she inserts herself into his business, she’s also the one who brings him “comfort”, the only one who he can trust. And it’s why he is unable to part ways with that manipulated reality he adheres to. It’s why, when other people speak the truth to him, he cannot believe it if it contradicts what he knows and believes, and that’s why no one is able to get through to him.

Kousuke is a textbook victim of manipulation - he can never grow and progress as long as Yui exists.

And something that someone pointed out (in the first link I included above!) is the visual progression of that. While we knew Kousuke would likely regress and everything he confronted and admitted would be out the window if Yui shows up, it’s further illustrated at the beginning of the episode and how it’s juxtaposed against the last scene we saw.

From Nol and Shinae standing together, hands clutched and Nol resting on her shoulder with the sunrise and light, the clocks turn back and grow darker and darker, until Kousuke awakes. His moment of illumination is over, he’s back to the dark. Yui’s arrival represents that darkness, and how it undoes every moment of truth he had prior.

As long as Yui remains in Kousuke’s proximity, he will always be in the dark, unable to reach the light.

In that same comment, they talked about the parallels in how we were shown Nol, Shinae, and Kousuke all waking up in the hospital.

Shinae woke to her father and his love and care. There was never a moment she had to doubt him. I still can’t get over that little snippet of Minhyuk in the hospital before she’d fully woken, how feral he sounded, how upset he was about what happened - that he knew he was one of the only people who actually cared about her and his anger at how she was hurt. There was never a moment that Shinae had to doubt these people. Even though her mom has left and took her sister, too, Shinae has never had to feel entirely alone.

On the flip side, Nol didn’t wake up to relatives, to his parents. He woke up to panic and fear and his fight or flight senses kicked in - until he noticed Shinae asleep at the foot of his bead and realized he wasn’t alone. His friends showed up despite the way he had treated him to celebrate him, to make him feel special, to make him feel better in the ways that they can. Nol has spent a lot of time alone, but he’s not. He has people at his side.

But Kousuke also wakes up alone - no peace, but instead a hard to make out argument outside his door. Isn’t that awful? At least Shinae and Nol wake up to a sense of comfort, but Kousuke wakes up to people arguing about him. When he fully wakes and sits up, there’s no one in the room. Just him. And then in sweeps Yui, paying off a nurse to trash Rand’s gift, ready to spin a new web to further ensnare Kousuke.

As long as Yui remains that safe place, that comfort to Kousuke, he cannot be free.

That’s the power of isolation, that’s the power of discrediting the people around him, of ensuring he believes only her words, convincing him that only she knows him well enough, that only she can help him, only she will tell him the truth.

“They were all superfluous. Don’t worry, I told him to stop. It’s best to save resources on patients that actually need it, right?”

We know Hansuke is in the right mind, wanting to run tests on Kousuke. He is rightfully concerned that something is going on with Kousuke and hopes tests could be indicative of something. He’s a doctor and thus believes in science and if there’s scientific evidence, maybe THAT could sway Kousuke, maybe THAT could convince him to listen. But not only does Yui put a stop to it, but she manages to discredit his intentions. She conveys to Kousuke exactly what she needs to - of course there’s nothing wrong with you you’re just fine don’t listen to what anyone else says because they don’t know you like I do. They’re all just being so dramatic.

And the next time Hansuke dares bring up to Kousuke that maybe he needs to get checked out, Kousuke will double down against him, will continue to believe Hansuke has a vendetta against him, will add him to his growing list of paranoia. The one person who is actively fighting for Kousuke is a big threat to Yui, so she has to ensure that Kousuke won’t trust him.

But that begs the question then. Is she putting a stop to the tests in effort to discredit Hansuke, or is it more than that? I am not a medical person, so this is not my area of expertise and I can only go off of the input others have put out there. I do personally think that whatever Kousuke is dealing with is not so much a mental illness as much as a response to the various stressors in his life, and while I do think a psych evaluation could at least better pinpoint a way to help Kousuke, that’s not the kind of test that Hansuke could have run while he was out.

But what could be gleaned from simple labwork and urine analysis? If what Kousuke is dealing with is his stress levels and his response to internalized fears and jealousy resulting in paranoia, if it’s his body’s reaction to dealing with a past trauma, if it’s his body shutting down when he can’t deal with something, that’s not something blood is going to show right?

There’s a lot of theories.

The first assumes both the rules of the mukoyoshi theory and that Kousuke is not, in fact, Rand’s child. It would go like this: because Rand was adopted into the Hirahara family by his marriage to Yui, it means he is treated as much as a blood relative as Yui is, and because the family business passes through the males, it means Rand’s progeny are the next in line for heir. This theory can branch off a couple ways.

The first is obviously if it’s found out that Kousuke isn’t Rand’s child - but from simple labwork, would that even be possible? Unless Hansuke is checking Kousuke’s blood type AND knows the blood types of Rand and Yui, how would he be able to uncover the truth? But still, Yui would want to cover that truth at all costs, so maybe stopping Hansuke before he gets further and digs in deeper?

But there’s also the fact that if it was believed Kousuke was not fit to be CEO, that his mental state was worrying or they couldn’t trust him to carry out the necessary duties, he could be stripped of his role - and it would go to the next in line, and as a blood-relative of Rand, that would be Nol. Thus, it would be very important to cover up any indicator that Kousuke cannot handle his role as heir. While we know Kousuke’s stress responses are directly related to unassessed psychological triggers, it would be easy for someone on the outside to look at him and go “He can’t handle stress and he lashes out at people, he isn’t fit for this.” And I don’t think that stress response is new to Kousuke. Though we didn’t see it really take affect until Nol and Kousuke were working closely together and Kousuke’s fears and paranoia were reawakened, we can assume from what little we saw of Kousuke’s recollection of the night Nol was taken away that this was another time he reacted to psychological triggers and shut down.

@poisonheart pointed this out and it really put a lot of things into new light. It would also lend credence to Nol being unstable - ensure that he never stands a chance, that no one will ever think he’s fit for the role.

Anyway, that brings us back to: Yui cannot have anyone, and especially not Kousuke, thinking there’s anything wrong with him. It’s not that she believes he’s perfect and thinks anyone who wants to run tests is insulting. It’s that she knows Kousuke is not perfect and she cannot let anyone find out. It would be so easy for the company to swing to one of her sister’s husbands if it turned out Kousuke and Nol were unfit and she absolutely cannot have that. That’s HER fortune, that’s HER business and she will not let it fall into the hands of another man.

I want to make it clear that when I say something is wrong with Kousuke, I mean that when his triggers stress him out too much, he goes on spirals. I don’t think it’s something like “Kousuke is bipolar” because we can see clearly WHAT affects him, WHAT sets him off, and why it sets him off. I think, in an ideal world where it as easily possible, Kousuke was able to make peace with his feelings about his father, he’d be able to make peace with his feelings about Nol, and he’d be able to eventually reduce the probability of getting swept into these spirals. If Kousuke had no reason to fear Nol, to feel jealous of him, the intense need to best him at every opportunity, if he didn’t see everything Nol does as being an attack against him, as him plotting against him, as him trying to overtake him, he wouldn’t get so worked up.

I also think making peace with Rand and Nol means whatever it is Kousuke is protecting himself from, whatever it is that happened in his falsified memory, would have less power over him. It’s not that Kousuke would act like this regardless - it’s that he is actively responding to things that trigger these reactions.

I think I lost track of where I’m going lmao the point is: Kousuke is a direct result of the manipulation he’s experienced, and every time he experiences a truth that goes against the world Yui has gaslighted him into believing in, he cannot process it and it breaks him down. It’s a normal reaction! He’s not reacting like this because there’s something “wrong” with him, he is responding to high levels of stress and his brain wants to maintain the truth he knows. Certainly he needs therapy, but we all do. They all do.

And this episode illuminates WHY and HOW Kousuke remains trapped in this state, and why any attempt at showing him the truth goes awry. Kousuke doesn’t put his beliefs ahead of other peoples’ solely because he has superiorlistic feelings about himself - it’s because he has to, in order to continue what he knows.

Yui offering him tea is also a chilling moment, because we know the way Nol reacts to tea. He knows - he understands. But on the flipside, Kousuke doesn’t have the same reaction to it. He may even associate tea with comfort. I think this difference is VERY important, because Nol is aware of the witch Yui is, he probably is aware of the ways she has hurt him. Kousuke, though, isn’t. He still seeks comfort from her, and the tea theory, that maybe it’s laced, that maybe it is something his body responds to in order to placate him, is an important one. I don’t think this theory goes as far as some people think - I don’t think he’s being constantly drugged by his personal chef, for instance, nor do I think he ate or drank anything that night that would have triggered how he acted this night because a. Yui was surprised when he showed up to the party at all and b. Again, everything about Kousuke’s reactions are perfectly in line with the things that tip him off. He didn’t get worked up because he was drugged, he got worked up because he was responding to the dissonance between what he believes and what he sees, the stress of what Nol did and how Kousuke fears it will reflect on him, and his desperation to never disappoint Rand.

HOWEVER I AM very much on board with the idea that after very traumatizing moments, perhaps Yui has placated Kousuke with a special tea that would calm him down and interrupt the dissonance, something he would come to associate as calm and safety, and thus further push her goal of ensuring Kousuke only feels safe with her, that she is the only one he can trust and seek refuge in. Everything going wrong and then mommy shows up with nice special tea and suddenly he’s calm and all those questions have been tucked away, there’s a new memory in its place; that’s not how that played out now is it, dear, wasn’t it like this?

Something else about Yui worth noting is that she is VERY unhappy. There’s something so jarring and uncomfortable about the way she reacts when Kousuke tells her he was looking for Nol and Rand, that Nol has been hurt. That eerie smile mask of hers and how it closes in on her, that she came not because Kousuke needed her but she needed something from him - she needed to know Nol’s whereabouts, she needed to know where her scheming husband has gone. And Kousuke has no information for her. She is ANGRY but it’s also an opportunity to further drive that wedge. Rand isn’t here - not only does that mean he’s not here to check on Kousuke but it also means someone lied, whether it was Rand or Jayce, and it doesn’t matter which it was because Kosuuke will internalize it in the worst possible way. Why didn’t they come here, why did they hide their location? As readers we know exactly why - Rand is protecting Nol from Yui. But in doing so, it looks like he’s hiding things from Kousuke and he will not be able to rationalize it any other way.

Even his reaction to the fact that Rand isn’t here shows that - he’s starting to get worked up again, he’s agitated, he doesn’t know where they are and Nol was hurt and Yui is grabbing his injured hand and trying to placate him. There’s something about Kousuke’s “You don’t believe me...?” that REALLY hurts, because it’s all a part of her manipulation. He’s in a vulnerable state, he’s confused and instead of receiving clarity, Yui is muddying the waters. If Yui doesn’t believe him, does that mean he could be wrong? Does it mean that Jayce was wrong?

Again, in the end, he can rely on and trust only Yui.

I really love that we also got to see Meg and Jayce! What an unlikely duo! I have this hope that one day Meg and Kousuke can become unlikely friends - as much as anyone can be friends with Kousuke lol. I think we’ve seen that, like Hansuke, she is someone who at least likes Kousuke for something attributed to who he is, rather than chasing him for the fortune and power. I think that could have added fuel to the fire, but we’ve seen that Meg’s interest in Kousuke was rooted in him being one of the only people in her life to cheer her on, to make her feel seen and like she can do what she sets her mind to, unlike her parents who encouraged her to give up and go for something easy. I don’t want to downplay her harassment and stalking, because it was very much so out of line but I’m glad she seems to be coming around and I think from that, if Kousuke can ever learn to be comfortable around her, we could see a really interesting dynamic of friendship. I think Meg has a lot of potential to have a similar relationship as Kousuke and Shinae have had, where Shinae calls out Kousuke and tries not to let him push her around and make her feel small. Clearly there’s a lot of things Meg and Kousuke both need to work through and it’s not something that would immediately happen, but I think it might be a series of incidents that could build up to them being able to trust each other, maybe?

Meg finding the gift that was thrown out fuels that hope, at least. I know right now she takes it as Kousuke choosing to throw it out, but I wonder if we won’t get to see a scene where Meg mentions the gift he threw out and makes Kousuke go “Excuse me? What? I would never throw out something from Father” and create that little seed of doubt. That’s the biggest issue with Kousuke being caught in Yui’s web - no one can get through to him. But if that seed of doubt is planted, if could lead to Kousuke questioning the things he needs to. Because if she’s thrown out this gift, what else has she thrown out. What else has she prevented? What else has she lied about? Maybe he can reach that conclusion that it wasn’t that he was never good enough for Rand, but that she continued to make that gap wider and wider and to destroy every bridge before either Kousuke or Rand ever had a chance to cross them. Even if it’s not the case and she hasn’t actually interfered as much as we think, it still creates that doubt, because it still means she lied and that she isn’t the only pillar of truth in his life, and there’s still a question of what else he’s lied about.

I love that we get to see Meg hanging around that long, too. I mean, I’m glad she’s getting a wuber and will go home, but I just can’t help but feel like we will get to see a lot more of Meg and Kousuke - after all, just like her unlikely appearance with Yujing, they DO have a lot of mutuals, and Meg has become much more important to the story than anyone could have accounted for. Now that she holds the actual key to possibly unlocking some doubt in Kousuke’s mind, I think we will get to see more of her. Again, I know at the begnning her harassment was treated as a tasteless joke, but I love Meg because of how much we’ve already seen her change and grow, her decision to love herself and stand up for herself. I think in time we might get to see Kousuke develop a sense of respect for her, as he kind of has with Shinae. I like to hope that she might be able to eventually bring some comfort to Kousuke, in the way that maybe she can be someone who brings him truth and honesty. I don’t mean this as a shippy thing, but just in the sense that Kousuke is very much alone. Shinae has people who love and care about her. Nol has people who love and care about him. Kousuke doesn’t have that as much. Having someone who has your back is vital. That’s what makes it so hard for victims to leave - where do they go? who do they turn to? When for so long their abuser has been their only sense of comfort and shelter, when their abuser has made everyone view the victim as hysterical and dramatic, when they are left all on their own, isn’t that scary?

This isn’t a “they can fix him” thing, but rather for Kousuke to grow he needs to escape his mom, and for him to do THAT he needs to understand who she is and what she’s done to him. Hansuke is doing his best, but maybe having someone else on his side would be beneficial. These are complex stories and it’s not enough to just have someone at your side, there’s a lot of psychological recovery for Kousuke to work through - but it’s not as daunting when you aren’t alone.

Idk, I say it every week but I just. I have a LOT of feelings. I’ve really enjoyed the complexity of the pain train that is Kousuke (I took that from @poisonheart lmao) because it’s so well done. He is a man who has been manipulated his entire life, he’s felt neglected by his father, he’s been isolated, everyone who cares about him has been discredited, he’s been trapped in this web and haunted by his jealousies and fears and he’s lashed out every time he feared he was losing his place, every time he worried Nol would best him. Just like how tragic it is that Yui was able to drive that wedge between Rand and Kousuke, it’s tragic that Yui has been able to do this to Kousuke, that as a result of the seeds she’s sown, he’s grown up to be this kind of person, to do despicable things, to break someone so that they never had the chance to grow.

Nothing ever happens in a vacuum, nothing is ever black and white. Kousuke is both a victim and an abuser. Rand is both suffering from Yui’s games and a bad, absent parent. Nol was hurt over and over by Kousuke and still reached out, still tried to help, tried to bond. I think we absolutely have to acknowledge that Kousuke is dealing with something that is very difficult to escape, that is very psychologically damaging. That’s why we can’t look at him and go “I can’t believe a grown adult is acting like that.” There’s always more to the story, and it’s unfortunate that the pain inflicted on these characters has caused them to hurt someone else.

Rand’s misery led to him giving up and hurting his son, which lead to his son living with so much fear and jealousy that he hurt the only person who tried to reach out to him over and over again, which lead to that person hurting the people who loved him and wanted to help. It’s an endless cycle, and even though it begins with Yui, I’m sure she has her own hurt, too, that she’s turned on everyone else.

#I love Yoo #ILY Brainrot #ILY FP #ILY Spoilers #Kousuke Hirahara #Yui Hirahara #Rand #manipulation and abuse cw #abuse cw #please let me know if you want me to use any other tags for this btw!#i think it's important that people know this episode and thus this commentary deals heavily with the discussion of parental manipulation #i don't want to spring that on someone and awaken their own struggles :(#this is also why i'm very adamant that we talk about Yui this way and understand how she operates and that this is not a case of mommy just #wuvs her baby boy so much that she'll burn down the world for him and that it's never been that way #and denying the abuse and adhering to this instead just further demonstrates how deft her tactics are #it denies the reality of kousuke's story and why he is the way he is why he does what he's done #we cannot understand kousuke without understanding how Yui has hurt him and what a damaging hold it mains on him #anyway i love this episode so much because it validates so many of my theories lol #but i really do feel for Kousuke and again i think that is the best part of ily #there are no shades of grey #kousuke's circumstances have affected other people in a terrible way #but i can still empathize with his circumstances #i can still wish for him to get out of there so he can grow #i can still wish for him to find real comfort and happiness because he isn't inherently evil #there's room for him to grow and i look forward to that day #i want the best for most of these characters

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ciaossu-imagines · 2 months

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Can you do day 20 prompt 1?

Of course I can! Thank you so much for showing interest in me and my opinions, my lovely anon! You’re very sweet!!

1. What was your first anime (that you knew was anime)?

Oh my god, honestly…I don’t actually remember. I remember growing up on Dragon Ball Z, Sailor Moon, Ronin Warriors and other things they’d show on Toonami, but I don’t think I actually knew they were anime then. It probably would have been either Bleach, Naruto, or Yu Yu Hakusho but there were some smaller little animes I watched around that time as well that I really grasped were anime because I had met friends and such who knew the terms, knew the culture, and was introducing me to it.

2. Favourite pre-2000’s anime?

Okay, right out the gate, reminding everyone – I can never pick favourites. I struggle with that so much because there are just so many fantastic shows and movies out there, so many solid choices, and I can’t say ‘this one is the best’ because there’s no universal best. Each one does something better than the others, all across the board. Of course, those familiar with my fandom list will see Yu Yu Hakusho and Ronin Warriors (and at times, Hunter x Hunter) on there. Sailor Moon, Dragon Ball Z, Trigun, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Cowboy Bebop, Akira, Lupin III, Ghost in the Shell, Astroboy…they’re all old anime that really do stand the test of time and are all worth checking out.

3. Favourite post-2000’s anime?

Fuck, I could make whole lists. Of course, I highly recommend all the ones on my fandom list, but I also will mention really loving Death Parade, Psycho-Pass, Shadows House, and a bunch of others!

4. Favourite director?

Umm…going to show my ignorance here and admit that I know absolutely no directors for anime. I know a couple of studios to the point where I can pretty much guess if a particular anime comes from them (Studio Madhouse and Studio Bones have some pretty recognizable traits among their varying anime) but that’s about it.

5. Favourite Ghibli movie?

Again, it’s really damn hard to say favourite. I will say I am firmly of the opinion that you can sit down with almost ANY Ghibli movie, and you will be in for a visual treat, interesting characters, and a good movie. I watch Totoro and Spirited Away the most though, but that’s only because they’re the two I actually own. I think the only one I haven’t watched more than once is Howl’s Moving Castle. It was a good movie stylistically, don’t get me wrong, was really cute but I’m a huge fan of the novel for that and the two are so vastly different that I couldn’t love it as much as a lot of Ghibli fans.

6. Favourite piece of merch (that you own or want to own)?

Okay, so I own a Yamamoto and a Yamazaki mini figure and both are extremely precious to me. Not only are they characters I love, but they were gifted to me by a friend I roleplayed with on ProBoards for years with and actually flew out to Toronto to meet. So they’ve got some sentimental value to them. As mentioned in another ask, I do diamond painting and there’s some really cool anime themed diamond painting pictures I’ve bought, since they’re not normally too expensive that decorate my walls, like one of Deku from BNHA, a Demon Slayer one, and I recently found a site that lets you make pictures into customized diamond painting pictures, so hopefully I’ll have some more from my other fandoms on their way!

7. First convention & 8. Convention you’ve attended the most?

I keep saying I’m going to go to conventions and plan (even bought tickets for one), but always chicken out, actually. I have a really hard time with large crowds of people, they make me really anxious and while it’s my dream to attend a convention and have all the fun that comes with it, I haven’t actually taken that final step. I’ll just keep repeating the small steps until I get there 😊

9. Favourite animation style?

As with everything, I have a really hard time saying favourite. I fully admit to being swayed by pretty, smooth animation but the animation styles I find pretty vary really widely. As everyone can see from the fandoms I write about on here, I watch a pretty wide variety of anime, from 90’s up to current animation, and I think that has something to do with it. I am more drawn towards things with more colour to them, things bright and eye-catching, but there’s also something beautiful about the soft, almost shojo-esque and pastel aesthetics of some anime. Really, I can deal with most animation styles, and it takes a lot for me to nope out of something because of the animation style…the only examples I can think of were RWBY, Kill La Kill (also the fanservice in that is gross), and Violence Voyager (and there were a lot more reasons I couldn’t finish that film and even the thought of it still leaves me feeling really damn unsettled).

10. Last anime you finished and your thoughts on it?

I finished up the second season of The Vampire Dies in No Time recently and honestly, the amount of love I have for that show is just insane. I will probably rewatch it at least a million more times. It’s such an easy watch, it makes me laugh a lot of the times, I love the animation style and the range of quirky characters. I definitely would recommend it to others if they enjoy comedy animation!

#admin chatter #anime talk

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cuti-romeros · 2 years

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A lovely anon in my inbox yesterday mentioned that Gary went on a political podcast earlier this week, and as ever, Jamie came up several times

(Separately, Gary is a magnetic speaker and it was fascinating listening to the full interview, so I would highly recommend it to anyone interested)

But I’ve listened to the full two hours in case you don’t plan to, and here are the carraville bits you came for:

On being nervous to be on a political podcast (21:35)

MNF in particular, that minute or two before we go on air. It’s live, four hours…You certainly don’t know what’s going to come out of Carragher’s mouth next. And absolutely, he doesn’t know what’s gonna come out of his mouth next. So you’re always a little bit on edge, thinking you’ve got to be ready. And I think it’s a good thing sometimes.

On growing to like London (25:40)

I spend a lot of time down here now. Actually, I stay at the Corinthian, just around the corner... Me and Carragher. I mean, honestly... [host interjects something] I know, Carragher, he's drinking red wine, he writes for The Telegraph, he's staying in Whitehall. Fucking hell. He's from Bootle!

On whether people he's played football with share his political opinions (33:10)

Take Carragher. I mean, to be fair, I didn't like the guy at all when I played against him. And now, to be fair, we've become really good friends.

On joining the Labour Party (36:41)

I thought, to be fair, I was shouting my mouth off that much. And Carragher goes, "What are you fucking up to—" [to the interviewer] Do the Carragher accent, I can't do the Carragher accent. [interviewer does a not great impression of Jamie saying, "What are you doing? You can't talk about Labour without joining, of course you can't."] So I just thought I'd put my money where my mouth is.

On the interviewer asking, "Do you have [political] conversations with Carragher?" (53:01)

(Under a read more because there's still a lot from here)

(chuckling) You can't, can you, really? Difficult, that. [interviewer: "well I got the impression that he was quite Labour"] He is, he is very much. Very much Labour. Very much. Yeah. Absolutely. Can't not be, can he, from where he comes from. Also, I mean, you think about the way in which, sort of, the city of Liverpool and Merseyside view the Conservative Party. Phew. But do you know something, they aren't wrong are they, at times... They're wrong about a lot, but— (chuckles) No I don't have this type of conversation... He's furious as well. He's furious as well. He doesn't speak about it as much, not publicly either. But yeah, he's not happy. He retweets a lot, he posts out a lot. I think he went for Johnson last week, didn't he.

On him and Jamie calling out Partygate on Sky (54:04)

Yeah, it was FNF. We got a right bollocking for that. We have about a thousand complaints from Ofcom every fucking week. The amount of people who complain about me and Carragher, it's unbelievable honestly. It's fantastic. If we mention politics, we get a call, usually from the hierarchy at Sky... You never get a call to say, "well done, great show yesterday". But to be fair, they do get that many complains, the Ofcom then maybe get involved. We'll be told, you know, "make sure you're balanced"... We don't push it, because we accept it's a football audience that are, if you like, tuning in… We should, in our everyday lives, not be ignoring what's currently going on. We should be able to relate to it, particularly if there's a big event. I mean, if there'd been a no-confidence vote on the night of MNF, I don't we'd have come out alive, me and Carragher. I don't think they'd have let us on, I think they'd've cancelled the game!

On why England's Golden Generation failed (1:04:37)

When I look back then and think, the division between us—you know, me and Carragher, for instance... There were cliques.

On someone in football that's like Boris Johnson (1:10:49)

I've never met a guy like him in my life. I've never met—I've met some arseholes, don't get me wrong. I work with one regularly on Sky. (chuckles)

#carraville #gary neville #jamie carragher

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greeksorceress · 11 months

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hey!! i follow you on twitter (sorry for the lowkey stalking lol) and i saw that theartificialintellect said they’d be deleting all their fics :(((( because they don’t want their ‘pieces to be accessible to the wrong demographic’. what do they mean by this? i would ask them but they have no anonymous question function available

hello anon!

i’ve talked with ithrii about this. honestly, it’s not my place to say, but i’m sure ithrii will tell you about how they’re feeling if you contact them. also, it might be good too, to show support! 🤍

what i’m going to do is make the most of this ask and say a few things that have been on my mind for a while.

first and foremost, this fandom is wild. i’ve been in so many fandoms for the best part of 15 years now and house of the dragon is so far the most draining and toxic fandom i’ve been part of.

this doesn’t mean everyone’s terrible. i’ve met numerous people who are kind and brilliant, whom i consider good friends or admire a lot, and i’ve found people with whom i feel such a deep and strong connection. truly, some of the best people i know have come from this fandom. also, house of the dragon has some of the best fandom creators ever, both in writing and in art. specially lucemond, the quality of the content we get for them in insanely good. we’re truly blessed.

but yeah, some of the rudest people i’ve ever seen are part of this too. haters in this fandom just hit different, they’re unrelenting.

ithrii has been harassed for months, their stories have been receiving so much negative comments from both haters or insensitive readers and at the end of the day, it has been too much. and just like what’s happening with ithrii, this happens so much with lots of content creators. even right now as we speak, if you are part of the twitter fandom, and you follow ithrii, you can see the kind of comments they have to put up with.

that’s why i want to remind everyone that leaving positive feedback is very important. you don’t have to be best friends with the author, but leaving kudos is one click away, dropping a “that was so good!” takes just 10 seconds of our days. and it can change the life of a fandom writer. i don’t know why most people who put their passion into the comments are always the ones trying to hate, but we have to help authors to know they have people supporting them. i understand if you’re shy, my social anxiety skyrockets every single time i have to interact with someone, but this is so helpful and so necessary.

ithrii doesn’t deserve this. they’re an author that has always been real about what they write and what they like. and they’ve been such a fantastic friend. it pains me it has come to this. they deserve better, they deserve to feel they have a place in this fandom. so i really encourage you to go and talk to them, because they need to know we care about what’s going on!

thank you for the ask, dear anon. i’m sorry i cannot go about personal details because that’s ithrii’s story to tell. i just can tell you that any support will be appreciated. and also, this answer wasn’t specific just to your ask, i just wanted to seize the opportunity 🤍

#asks: anonymous #about: ithrii’s writing #please please please support your favourite writers #ithrii deserves better #i’m so sad people are acting like this

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fortunatelylori · 1 year

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What did you think of Bridgerton s2? The leads were gorgeous and seemed very dedicated to making the most of it but the writing felt off to me?

Hi, nonnie!

I’m really sorry for taking so long to answer your question. It really sparked some very interesting food for thought for me and it’s taken me a long time to be able to sit down and actually write down all I wanted to say.

Bridgerton on the whole left me with pretty mixed feelings.

I really didn’t like season 1. There were elements in it that I enjoyed like the costume porn, Polly Walker (I’ve loved her ever since Rome), Jonathan Bailey and the general commentary on the role of women within regency society. But overall, it was a frustrating experience.

Daphne was a pretty weak protagonist, in my opinion. Rather bland and one note. And I wasn’t fully convinced by the Duke. Don’t get me wrong. Jean-Rege Page is incredibly gorgeous and very charismatic. However, he felt awkward to me through out most of the romantic scenes. It felt like he was embarrassed by the romantic speeches and gestures he had to say and make.

So in that sense, Bridgeton season 2 was very much an improvement. Kate, I felt, was a much more interesting and complex heroine. And Jonathan Bailey was absolutely fantastic. He really carried the season, in my opinion. Mainly because, unlike Page, he committed fully to being the dashing romantic lead and felt completely at ease with the role.

Which brings me to my main issue with both seasons of Bridgerton. And that is the Western, Anglo-Saxon discomfort around heterosexual romance.

I know … I know … it sounds like a college communist dissertation but hear me out.

It all really just boils down to this idea that writing a love story between heterosexual people is simply not interesting enough anymore. There has to be an angle, a particular out of the box view point or a subversion of expectations in order to make it meaningful. You simple can’t make An Affair to Remember or History is made at night or When Harry met Sally anymore. It’s not edgy or serious or important.

The only way you can make movies like that anymore is with gay characters. Because romantic gay love in a mainstream sense is still seen as transgressive. Which is why the only classic romantic comedy to get really any traction on the internet this year was Bros (it failed at the box office but that’s a different discussion).

All of that is to say, Bridgerton felt very much like that to me. All the romantic moments were undercut by a desperate need not to appear too romantic or cheesy or too “heteronormative”. Anthony couldn’t simply be a strong regency alpha male like God intended him to be, he needed to say he was going to humble himself for Kate because the writers were afraid of being accused of writing “toxic masculinity”. Kate couldn’t be too in love with Anthony because that wouldn’t be “feminist” enough. We couldn’t have too many romantic moments between the two of them or full blown romantic lines and declarations because angst and repression is so much more appealing and it would make for better cliffhangers.

It's those needs that have very little to do with the story being told or the characters that really made the 2nd half of the season feel off to me. They made me go through this whole turmoil of feelings and stress over will they get together or not, will Anthony actually marry Kate’s sister etc. to then just end it with a 1 minute convo between the two of them and a post-coital scene. I felt very let down by that.

Also I feel like the whole wedding thing was a monumentally bad narrative idea. For one, I never really understood why Anthony wanted to marry Edwina in the first place. He found Kate completely unacceptable despite his attraction to her but Edwina made sense according to his list? You can’t just explain that away with her being made Diamond of the First Water.

And narratively once they’re standing at that altar to have it all undone over a fallen bracelet is very ham fisted and clunky. It made both Kate and, particularly, Anthony look like monumental idiots for really no reason. There were many ways in which they could have progressed that story that didn’t include Anthony being seconds away from marrying Kate’s sister.

But, coming back to my original statement, all of these convoluted, clunky narrative choices, for me, tend to fall under the same overarching idea that has been occupying much of the American movie industry in recent years: heterosexual romances are not interesting or compelling enough and need to be subverted and skewed, looked at through a post-modernist lense. I mean, if you aren’t writing about selfish, immature, self-important, destructive people are you even doing your job nowadays? Yes, Scenes of a Marriage. I’m looking at you.

Then there’s, of course, the obligatory nods to 3rd wave feminism, toxic masculinity and the evil patriarchy that simply need to make their way into every single story being told. Whether it makes sense or not.

And, while I think storytelling has always had a political angle to one degree or another, Bridgerton isn’t really the place I go to if I want to be exposed to tik tok ideology. At the end of the day, a love story is a love story is a love story. And Hollywood is making less and less good ones every year.

I don’t think I even realized why I felt dissatisfied by it until after seeing Crash Landing on You, only a few weeks after finishing Bridgerton season 2.

For those who’ve never heard about Crash Landing on you, it’s a South Korean tv show about a rich heiress who ends up stuck in North Korea and is helped by a NK army captain. It’s epic melodrama at its finest and everything that I love about love stories, no holds barred. It showed me just how limiting Hollywood’s approach to love stories had become and how unsatisfying it all is when you refuse to give true catharsis to your viewers.

If you haven’t seen Crash landing on you, I highly recommend it. It’s one of my most favorite things I’ve seen in a long time and it’s really pushed me out of my comfort zone in seeking movies and tv shows outside of the American/Anglo-Saxon mainstream. I’ve watch various more South Korean shows, I’m currently watching a Turkish TV show and have a growing list of French movies I’m looking forward to watching. And I couldn’t be happier to find that the kind of storytelling I love to watch is still out there, just a few subtitles away.

All of that being said, I’m still going to watch Bridgerton season 3. Particularly since they promised me that Kate/Anthony honeymoon. I’m a sucker, I guess, but I will always love love . 😊

Have a good one, nonnie!

#bridgerton #crash landing on you #my metas

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blood-and-poetry · 2 years

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I love Gwendoline Christies Lucifer so much but as always I’ve been thinking too much and now I made myself very unhappy thinking about the development of the character in the show. This is a highly personal take and I do not claim it to be better or more correct than any different opinions or feelings regarding this matter. I just need to get it out of my system so I can sleep better tonight.

I didn’t read much of the Sandman comics (and frankly, I never will) but I know a little bit about them (among other things: I know what Lucifer will do and how he will end up) and I absolutely love Gwendoline Christie as Lucifer. But, and please hear me out on this, I think some people might have a fraction of a point when they say that she isn’t the perfect fit for THIS Lucifer (and no, not the idiots who don’t like her because “sHe’s A wOmaN”). And that’s an absurd thing to say right? Because she is (in my eyes at least) the most perfect Lucifer to ever exist. Absolutely breathtaking. Others have expressed why that is in much more eloquent ways than I ever could. The way she acts and looks in the role is otherworldly, something that at first glance looks quite human but just doesn’t feel human. She IS Lucifer to me. I will never have another picture in my head when someone talks about Lucifer. And I mean Lucifer in general, not just the Sandman Lucifer.

She seems removed from the David Bowie-inspired and Tom Ellis Lucifers, which is a good thing to me. She seems less like a TV Show character or a pop cultural wet nerd dream, she feels like this almighty being that’s hard to comprehend (have I said how much I love her?). But here is the thing. The David Bowie and Tom Ellis Lucifers seem like Lucifers who would do and say the things the Sandman Lucifer in the comics would do. In a way, they seem even a bit more human. To be really honest these depictions of Lucifer aren’t my personal taste (it’s okay if they are yours) and I prefer Gwendoline Christies version because her Lucifer seems so (and excuse my lack of better words) inhuman. Inhuman in the sense of being like a force of nature. At least that’s how she seems to me. And I love her because of that. But I have such a hard time imagining her interpretation of Lucifer doing and saying certain things the comic Lucifer did. She is a brilliant actress and I am certain that she will absolutely nail whatever she plays. She also knew exactly what the role would mean and how the role would develop since she is familiar with the source material. So everyone involved will do a fantastic job with the best possible outcome. But the thing is. This outcome, if true to the comics, will still destroy some of the magic this role created for me. For me very personally. I know it won’t for many other people.

I am very conflicted about this because I know I am objectively wrong and merely acting on my personal strong preferences that are so rarely met in media. I am very picky and I know that I see issue with certain things in shows/movies that other people have absolutely no issue with. I am used to my favourite characters becoming something I don’t like that much later on. The best example for this is Joan Ferguson in Wentworth. I think I often times fall in love with something a character initially is. And the very thing I fall in love with is the thing the creator wants to deconstruct to tell a story, while I would like to preserve the initial state of the character (or how I perceive her) under glass. Which in turn probably wouldn’t make for a very compelling story. So again, objectively, I am wrong. So this isn’t really a true critique. What’s there to critique? I wouldn’t want it any other way. I am so glad that Gwendoline Christie plays Lucifer in Sandman and oh what would we have missed if she wouldn’t have gotten the role! So no, I don’t have any objections to anything. I think that Gaiman will stay as true to the comics as possible, and that’s a good thing even if it means my personal magic with this character will fade. The casting choice was one of the absolute best ones ever made in filming history, so no I wouldn’t want Tom Ellis to be cast in the role or anyone else. I also wouldn’t want the story to change to fit my preferences because then it probably would be less of a story.

I know it’s hard especially for this website to comprehend critical or unhappy voices without them being a call for action or anything more than a personal opinion or worry, without any claim to be correct or objective. And that’s really it. It’s a personal worry, a gut feeling that isn’t that nice.

I think what’s important here is the context that while I am familiar with fragments of the Sandman comics, I am not a fan and I don’t intent to be one. I went into the show without expectations and got absolutely blown away by Lucifer. Since I only have some cold hard knowledge about that character in the series and no emotional attachment or connections to that character, I think I might have fallen in love with something this character isn’t, or ultimately won’t be. I like a certain kind of character. And Gwendoline Christies Lucifer in this first season is basically all of which I love. But she won’t be that (to me) anymore when the story progresses. She will still be brilliant but something that the initial depiction had (to me) will probably get lost. And I bet that’s a good thing for many viewers and especially fans of the franchise! I also think it might be a good thing objectively and make for a really good story and good art. But it isn’t for me. So I’m a bit sad and needed a way to express it.

(I will still watch the coming seasons for her though lol. And who knows, maybe I’ll absolutely love it.)

#mp

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alexanicholsauthor · 5 months

Text

Feel like stalking me?

I’m not very good at the social media thing. I’ve heard people say you’re supposed to advertise like a demon, hyper-interact with people to make them think you’re friendly and outgoing, and gain readers and followers by treating people like marionettes, but that’s just not me. I do put out advertisements (10 throughout the month), but the rest of my social media posts are just me being stupid. Things I find funny online, random thoughts, or interesting tidbits that happen in my life… There is no true rhyme or reason behind what I post.

Don’t get me wrong, I know how to play the game. Just because I know how to play the game, however, doesn’t mean I want to, and at the end of the day, I’m the one looking at myself in the mirror.

I wrote all that to write this: I would rather be myself and have people like me than try and pretend to be someone I’m not and have to keep up some sort of false front.

It’s pretty much like I am outside of the digital world. It’s why I only have a handful of people in my inner circle, and everyone else is just sort of… associates.

Still, I have met a few people online that I’ve clicked with and have come to care about through the years. Organically. It takes time with someone like me, as I don’t just swing the gates open at the first sign of a decent person. I’m choosier than that. I like to evaluate people. Get to really know them. The good and the bad. As long as the good outweighs the bad, most likely, I’ll get along fantastically with you.

Can you relate? I’m sure you can. I’m sure most of you can. Everything I’ve written about myself is likely true for most of you.

I just wish some of you remembered that…

Anyway, if you want to contact me, there are many ways to do so. Pick your preferred method:

Website

Amazon

Patreon

Ko-fi

Subscribestar.adult

Bluesky

Facebook

Twitter

Tumblr

Goodreads

Quora

Mastodon

Wattpad

Writers Café

LibraryThing

Soundcloud

I look forward to meeting you!

#amwriting #amediting #authorlife #authorconfession #authorshare #life #indieauthor #authorproblems #author #amliving

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heroofsaxophone · 1 year

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Blerb

I think the largest annoying thing about how I’m feeling right now is that, regardless if the person I ranted to told on me, I’m being treated poorly for reasons I felt were certainly valid things to complain about. I’m utterly frustrated at the fact that I’m paired with someone I learned to fundamentally not like. It’s also scary how someone can build such a fantastic facade of being overly positive. People will crucify me if I speak negatively on someone, but I’ve had to listen to nothing but gossip and negative things about so many people unironically. For some reason when I do it, it’s a crime to which people have treated me completely different. I honestly thought being with other musicians would be a positive thing. So far it has persisted my lack of faith in people if I’m being honest. It’s not to say I haven’t met some fantastic people however. On the other hand, the people I’ve met thanks to my life partner are probably some of the best people I know. I look at people in charge and their character, and of course someone like me has an opinion. I’ve done my best to refrain myself from speaking my mind like I used to, and sure enough the moment I speak it I’m punished in some capacity. Blogging like this takes me back to those Days of ‘08 when I simply didn’t know any better. Now that I do, it’s like I circled back to square one. At least in that time it was petty high school drama. I feel like this is a lesson I have to learn, but heaven forbid if I ever speak negatively on someone regardless if its a valid complaint. Maybe I really do trust the wrong people and should be much more careful? But it’s hard to know considering I really believed I could trust someone. On the contrary, I do realize that I must maintain a positive attitude and look at things a certain way to succeed. The way my last two helpers have shown me things made me realize that there is no room for me to do what they do. I can’t continue to complain about things without changing it with results. I can admit that I could set boundaries and be a better influence myself rather than standing idly and letting something transpire on its own. Something as simple as having to listen to my colleague(s) bitch about someone they don’t like can be steered a new direction if I’m the one to do it. I really do get tired of hearing people speak poorly of others, which is ironic because all I typically see are the negatives in people once they reach that point. Hell, maybe I’m the one who’s responsible for that? I’ve wondered if there’s a vibe I set off in any setting that allows people to feel those thoughts. I really don’t know, and I certainly hope not. Especially at my age. I want to be a musical influence, but I fear enough time had passed in the 2010′s that I may have just lost my musical charm.

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tmisaccidentreportbook · 1 year

Text

MAG031, First Hunt

Case #0100912, Lawrence Mortimer Release date: August 11, 2016 First listen: 5th November, the walk home. Remember passing the diary farm yard gates at ‘a-hunting we will go’.

Ok, so. I’ve had a thought. If we exclude The Extinction, and just stick with the original 13, The Hunt is the last Entity to get a dedicated statement of its own. It’s at the very back at the pack… Feels appropriate.

Supplemental: No, you absolute donut, you forgot Trevor Herbert’s statement, MAG010! Ok, we’re gonna work this out, hang on. Ok, I think it’s between The Eye, not getting a solo shout until MAG023 but hinting at in MAG012 or The Spiral that does a lot of heavy lifting in MAG019 but doesn’t get a solo until MAG026.

- I have limited knowledge and understanding of America, so quick google of Blue Ridge, Virginia and the geography and ecology. Blue Ridge, Virginia is a bit of a vague description but the vibe is deciduous forest, snow caped mountain ranges, and big ol’ wildlife.

- ‘I always wanted to go hunting. It always seemed such a manly sort of pursuit.’ sigh Oh no… I’m not going to have much patience with this guy am I? There is merit to being able to sustain yourself in a wildlife survival situation but this feels like a bit of a fantasy fulfilment lads on tour. I don’t like it.

- I am mollified by the knowledge that he intends to be ‘cooking and eating what (he) kill(s)’, so at least it wasn’t big game trophy hunting.

- ‘…shooting pheasants with shotguns and riding down foxes all seemed too much the domain of, uh, nitwits in tweed.’ I am having so many feelings and none of them are favourable to this man. The fact that he feels he can throw this sort of judgement around is fucking baffling. Considering he’s got the money to travel to the other side of the world to play at being a ranger. I mean, don’t get me wrong, a lot of them are nitwits in tweed, but he’s got a lot of stones and that glass house looks awful delicate. Yup, so, full disclosure, yes, I’ve been fox hunting. When I was young and saw it as a big hack out with my friends rather than, y’know, hunting. But yeah, now I avoid meets and I’m the one standing between the hounds and the gosling field gate when the local hunt rolls over the estate. But this guy gets to retirement, with all his life experience and knowledge, and ths is what he does.

- ‘…where they had a few animals worth going after.’ I wanna slap this guy. You know what’s a fantastic alternative to trophy hunting? Photography. You’re still out in the sticks, you’re roughing it, you’ve got to look after your equipment, you need to track your quarry, you need to blend into the environment like a flipping sniper. And you can track anything and everything. And when you pull the trigger, everyone walks away.

- ‘…I thought, ‘dash it all,…’ I want to punch this man.

- ‘We’d met on a sceptics message board and got on like a house on fire.’ What sort of ‘sceptics message board’ exactly? I don’t think my lip has uncurled since I hit play on this episode.

- ‘I wasn’t exactly expecting the Grim Reaper to come knocking in the intervening months…’Oliver Banks? Babe? Do you take requests?

- ‘…see if we could find a deer or an elk for me to shoot. Nature, seclusion and guns – to my ears it sounded just perfect.’ I actively hate this guy. This isn’t about survival or adventure, this is a power fantasy.

- ‘I normally live in Torquay.’… This mother fucker’s got a second home, hasn’t he? He’s got two homes and one of them is in a coastal area that is famous for the fact that locals are being priced out of their own communities by people buying second holiday homes and hiking property prices.

- I find the fact that he finds Arden a bit too much hilarious, considering that Arden goes on to lose his life. So either Lawrence feels guilt for any unkind thoughts he may have had about the man, or he feels nothing and shows himself an arsehole.

- ‘Still, all was forgiven when he showed me his gun cabinet … To see a dozen, well-cared for weapons displayed proudly, well, it was just lovely.’ wretch

- Crabtree Falls gives us a start point on the Blue Ridge Parkway, Marion.

- ‘I was very excited to don my hunters orange, and to take up my rifle.’ He’s a kid… playing dress up…

- The Winchester Model 70 is a bolt-action sporting rifle, worth upward of £900 new. The Remington Model 673 was a bolt-action rifle that only was in production for a year before it was discontinued in 2004, again worth about £900 used.

- ‘I was something of a blundering presence … I was sure that it was my own crashing footsteps scaring away the creatures.’ All the gear, no idea. It really feels like he’s come into this, expecting the environment to bend around him.

- Having someone wondering around with no tools and no resources and nonchalantly reject assistance would be highly unnerving. It suggests to a skill set, an unusual skill set.

- ‘We answered as vaguely as we could without being rude, since neither of us felt comfortable near this man.’ Welcome to the female experience mother fucker.

- ‘Sniffing us,’ ‘Tomorrow will be a good day for a run’, let the dog see the rabbits.

- ‘Around two o’clock in the morning I could have sworn that I heard someone laugh, slow and softly, outside my tent.’ Like a beater worrying the undergrowth, sending the spaniels in, setting the birds on edge.

- ‘…I felt ten times better with the weight of the gun in my arms…’ distressed noises

- ‘… when I saw my elk.’ Oh heck, I’ve worked out what the vibe is that’s so wretched. It’s a Gaston energy and I’m breaking out in hives.

- ‘I could have sworn it looked me in the eye as I prepared to pull the trigger.’ There’s something powerful about a wild animal making eye contact with you. And deer species have culturally been so intrinsic to the mysticism of an ancient forests; the Great Forest Spirit of Princess Mononoke, the black hart and white doe in The Hobbit, the stag that grants wishes when caught in The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe, in Celtic and Arthurian legend. There’s part of me that hopes this forest weighs and measures him and finds him wanting.

- ‘…there was a messy hole in the centre of his throat, as though it had been torn out entirely. His rifle lay next to him on the ground…’ The shot that he heard was possibly fired in self defence rather than being what killed him, fired from a third weapon. The throat looking ‘torn out’ suggests that whatever was used, wasn’t a sharp edged instrument.

- ‘Then I heard that whistling. That infernal whistling…’ Who needs a hunting horn or the baying of hounds when a whistled child’s tune will do the job just as well.

- The zigzag running is a little odd. It could be that he’s moving to avoid any attempts to shoot him, but you tend to see zigzag running patterns in prey species, trying to out run predators.

- ‘I know I should have picked up my gun, but you can’t understand just how frightening it is to have something like that, a true predator, running at you full pelt.’ Enjoying that power dynamic flip, you enjoying it? But what if you were simply his human the same way that elk was your elk? It’s it all part of this manly pursuit?

- ‘You can’t understand what it is to be prey.’ … Ask anyone who isn’t male, white, cis/het and able bodied. Ask anyone…

- ‘I think he did it deliberately, you know. To let me know he was still there.’ It’s the chase, not the catch. It’s the chase.

- The psychology of sending him in a circle, it’s a chase but Lawrence may as well be in a snare.

- ‘…everything about him was sharper. His fingers, his teeth, his face, his eyes. His skin.’

- Never seen or read The Duchess of Malfi so giving it a quick google. Premiered 1613, written by John Webster, it’s… it’s a bit messy. Like ‘Twelfth Night levels of misidentification plus MacNope levels of murder’ messy. Incredible description though, ‘a wolf’s skin is hairy on the outside, his on the inside.’

- ‘I forget, did I mention my military background? Well, I used to be an officer in the Air Force.’ Oh my fucking god, that explains so much… Oh fuck, what ‘sceptics message boards’ were you on!??

- ‘I know the thrill of power that comes with the ability to end the life of something weaker than you-’ HISS, TEAR, REND, KILL, BITE, NO, NO, NO.

- No Jon, you’re not being hunted. You’re being besieged.

#The Hunt #the magnus archives #MAG031

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Right From Left

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3085

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo being a punk, Bucky getting a little scary, some feelings, Sam being his fantastic, amazing, caring for everyone self

A/N: Here it is! At long last! I’ve been waiting for this episode and it was…holy fuck. I barely have words. And I can’t start or else I’ll be ranting for pages. Anyways, I know this Part is a little on the shorter side - not by much, but it still is - and it doesn’t even cover half the episode, but I’ve had a long day and I’m tired, so I’m going to sleep. I wanted to stop before Walker entered the picture too, because then I’m just gonna get more riled up and I’m working later. I’ll probably have another part out today, and then I’ll finish it tomorrow. Unless I can finish it today. I’ll try, but no promises.

Feel free to rant to me about the episode or the show, too, guys! My friends and I have been going back and forth about it for the past few hours. I’d love to hear your thoughts! I think that’s all for now.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS BELOW CUT!

You were avoiding him.

When you first got to Latvia, he had pulled you aside, eyes wide and pleading. “Doll, listen-”

“I really don’t think right now is the time to have the discussion we’re about to have.” Shaking your head, you avoided his gaze, your stomach twisting into knots. It was too much for you to handle; you couldn’t focus on the mission at hand and try to unravel the emotions that were making your gut flip like a gymnast. There were too many thoughts in your head, and you needed a clear mind.

“But-”

“Once this is all done, and our lives aren’t in danger. Once we’re back home, then we can talk, okay? Just…please. Not here. Not now.”

And he dropped it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk about it. You just couldn’t. You had always been a ‘leave your baggage at the door’ type of person. Don’t mix work with personal. Not like you had much “personal” anyways when you first decided that was how it should be. And then your coworkers became family and your motto got a lot harder to follow. But you still followed it. And you would continue to follow it.

But that made you start avoiding him. Whether you meant to or not, everyone noticed, but no one said anything. Sam shot you a look when you didn’t offer to go with Bucky when he had to check something out. Zemo raised an eyebrow when he came back and, instead of immediately questioning him, you sat still on the couch, eyes glancing up briefly, before going back to playing with the strings of your hoodie.

You were paying attention to their conversation, especially when Karli Morgenthau was brought up, you just didn’t join in. Not even when Zemo mentioned the Avengers, eyeing you to see your reaction.

Honestly, you were tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Your shoulder hurt, your brain couldn’t process what the guys were talking about, and your heart couldn’t take any more hits.

It was something you’d been thinking about…you just thought it’d come after this mission.

“She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her…or she kills you.”

“Maybe you’re wrong Zemo. The Serum never corrupted Steve.”

For the first time since he first walked in, your eyes met Bucky’s. “Touche.” Zemo pointed at Bucky with a pastry around his finger. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

But you couldn’t wait until after this mission. Not when he was so connected to it. “I think I’m gonna go home.” You blurted out before Zemo and Bucky could argue further, Bucky slumping down onto the opposite side of the couch.

The moment the words left your lips, Sam and Bucky shot up, staring at you in disbelief.

“Wait, hold up. What? Now? We’re so close-”

“Why? Is it your arm? Is it hurting? You should’ve told us-”

“I’m just tired.” You cut in, shaking your head. “That’s all. I didn’t expect this to be drawn out this long when you called, Sammy.”

Bucky’s hand twitched as he hesitatingly scooted closer to you. “Doll, if this is because what happened on the jet-”

“It’s not, Buck.” You tried to give him a convincing smile, but you knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t buy it for one second. You reached over to squeeze his hand, and when you pulled back, he held on tighter, a sigh escaping his lips as he stared down at your linked hands.

“Okay…if you wanna go home, we can get you home. Just…” His head turned back to you, a pleading pout on his features. “Just…stay. Another day. Please. You can keep avoiding me, I won’t even say another word to you if you don’t want. But stay. Just for one more day.”

Chewing on your cheek, you finally nodded slightly. “Okay. One more day.”

His eyes lit up, before his face fell again when you took your hand back and curled into the corner of the couch. “Let’s talk shop, boys.”

“Okay. So, from my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right?” Sam easily changed the topic back to the situation at hand, giving you a reassuring wink when you smiled at him gratefully. “So when I was a kid, my Tee Tee passed away.”

Bucky screwed his face up in confusion, straightening his head from where he had it leaned back. “Your - your Tee Tee?”

Sam gave him a look. “Yeah. My-my Tee Tee, yeah.”

Bucky looked at him weirdly. “Who is your Tee Tee?”

The exchange made you giggle a little bit, shaking your head. “Bucky’s a city boy from the 40’s, remember, Sammy?”

“Fine.” Sam rolled his eyes. “When I was a kid my aunt passed away.”

Bucky gave a slight huff, making you chuckle again. You stopped when he smiled over at you, but your grin didn’t leave your face. Even when they were the ones to give you a headache, your fellas were damn entertaining, that’s for sure.

With a sort-of plan in place - the gathering for Donya being no more than a theory, but the only idea you really had - you stretched out from your spot on the couch, twisting to crack your back. “Zemo.” The man stopped his rummaging through the cabinets and looked over his shoulder at you, an eyebrow raised. “Go put some clothes on. We’ve got work to do.”

He gave you an unimpressed look, opening his mouth, but Sam beat him to the punch. “Do as the lady says, man. You’re already walking on a tightrope after you shot Nagel!” Zemo waved dismissively at Sam’s exclamation, heading into a separate room to change out of his robe. “That guy is gonna drive me up the wall.”

“Don’t let him get to that pretty head of yours, Sammy.” You hummed, standing up, wincing slightly as you stretched your sore shoulder over your head.

You could tell Bucky wanted to say something, the way he snapped forwards, hands moving down his thigh like he was leaning over to reach for you, his eyes locked on your injured joint, but, just as he said earlier, he didn’t say a word. But the part that made you upset was…you didn’t stop him. You didn’t tell him it was okay for him to talk to you. You didn’t reassure him that you weren’t purposely trying to avoid him. You simply moved over to the kitchen to get something to drink.

It hurt worse than your shoulder, but you couldn’t handle it. Not then. Not with such an important part of the mission coming up. So you didn’t say anything. You just sipped your water, switching into tactic mode as your mind ran through the scenarios of what could possibly go down in the next 24 hours before you went home.

*************************

Walking under the arch, you couldn’t help but feel saddened as Zemo told you about what the courtyard used to look like. Thanos messed the world up so much more than you realized and, as much as you hated to admit it, the Avengers did have a part in it. Not that they - you - were in the wrong, necessarily. You truly believed you did what anyone in that situation, with the skills and abilities and knowledge the team had, would do what you did. Or tried to do.

“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs.” Sam stated, looking up at the upper stories of the building, before glancing at Bucky. “See what you can find out here. And keep an eye on him.”

“I’ll come with you.” You said, turning on your heel to follow Sam. The back of Bucky’s gloved hand brushed against yours, and instinctually you turned your palm to link your fingers and squeezing. You let go quickly once you realized what you were doing, nearly tripping up the stairs to get to Sam, not daring to wait for Bucky’s reaction.

“You’re an idiot.” He stated simply as soon as you met him at the top of the stairs.

“Can we focus on finding Donya right now, please?” You grumbled, moving forwards cautiously, peeking around the corner. You frowned when you saw two guys at the end of the hallway, looking back at you and Sam warily.

“You need to hear what he has to say, cher.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I know I do. I know. But I can’t. Not right now. I’m just trying to get this over with first. I don’t want too many things on my plate. I might choke.” It already felt like you were drowning most nights.

He paused at your words, giving you a once over, before nodding. “Okay. I can respect that.”

“Thank you.” You told him earnestly. “Now let’s try to get something from these people.”

He nodded in agreement and you two continued forwards with your search. Room after room, people walked out before you could get anything from them, locking doors behind them. The Flag Smashers logo was everywhere, but you expected nothing less from a refugee camp that practically worshipped what they were doing.

Even when you did get a guy to talk to you, he immediately shut you down, leaving you and Sam dejected. The fact that the world had gotten so bad that these people couldn’t trust you and Sam - Avengers; people who used to be heroes and bring hope to others - it made your heart sink.

“C’mon, Y/N.”

“Are we wrong?”

He froze at your question, his lips pressing together. “About what, exactly?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…I guess I can’t tell right from left anymore. I always assumed that the Avengers were the good guys. That the actions we’ve taken in the past were us making the world a better place, but…Sokovia and Ultron. Germany and the whole civil war thing we had going on. The entire world and Thanos. We don’t truly ever win. Do we?”

“I can’t answer that for you.” Sam shook his head. “I can’t tell you what to believe or who to believe in. But I can tell you that we’ve made a difference. Steve, Nat, Tony…they made a difference.”

“But was it a good difference? Was it a change? There’s a difference between changing the world and just making it different, Sam.”

He blinked at you, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. And I don’t have that answer for you either. But they tried. They did what they thought was right. No matter if it was or not. And isn’t that all we can do? Try?”

His words made you think back to the conversation you had with Bucky once he learned about John Walker, which seemed so long ago. When you told him it wasn’t Sam’s fault. That he was just trying. That he did what he thought was right.

And maybe he was wrong. But he made a decision. It was his decision. To do the right thing. And right then, not for the first time, you could see exactly what Steve saw in the man in front of you.

“You’re a good man, Sam.”

Sam grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders and squeezing. “And you’re an incredible person, Y/N. Let’s go see if Bucky and the Baron got anything.”

You snickered at his mocking tone towards Zemo and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

*****************************

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like it one bit. So far, Zemo kept proving you wrong. Even when it seemed like he was about to jump ship, he came back. No matter how many opportunities he had to escape, he never did. And it was making you even more suspicious.

You stayed out of Bucky and Sam’s conversation, although you had to agree with Sam’s point, especially with the conversation you just had.

Your thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute, only to be interrupted by Zemo information about the funeral this afternoon. Guess a snake will always be a snake.

“And you, uh, didn’t think this was important information?” You questioned, eyes narrowed and brow pinched.

He shrugged. “You have it now, don’t you, princess?”

Bucky growled at the nickname, leaning back on the couch, threatening Zemo with the Dora Milaje.

You can’t remember a time you’ve ever been scared of Bucky. Maybe a little threatened and intimidated by the Winter Soldier, but never scared of Bucky. And when he stood up after Zemo mentioned leverage, you didn’t expect anything from it; maybe another choke hold or something. So the glass hitting the wall, the clench in his jaw as he spoke gruffly to the Baron, for a mere second, he kind of frightened you. Maybe it was all the emotions you’d been through the past few weeks or maybe it was the adrenaline that seemed to be pulsing through your veins 24/7 nowadays. Whatever it was, it made you flinch, bolting up as Sam did.

You left the room quickly, hearing Sam say something about making a call, hoping to calm your racing heart.

“Doll?” You sat up from the bed you were laying on, legs hanging off the edge. Bucky stood in the doorway, nervously shifting his feet. “I know I said I’d leave you alone, but…”

You gave the bed a pat next to you and he gladly accepted the invitation, padding over to sit besides you. “I don’t want you to leave me alone, Buck. You’re my best friend. I-I just need to take it one thing at a time right now.”

He nodded. “I get it. I wasn’t…I wasn’t coming in to talk to you about that. You said we’ll talk about it later, so we’ll talk about it later.”

“I appreciate that, Bucky.” You smiled at him, before frowning. “What did you wanna talk about then? Are you okay?”

“Did I…did I scare you?”

You blinked at his question, tilting your head. “What?”

Jerking his head to the doorway he explained, “just then. With Zemo. Your heart spiked.”

“No.” You answered immediately. You would never ever admit that he kind of did scare you. It was just for a second and you knew how his brain worked; he’d beat himself up over it, go over his actions for hours instead of getting the rest he so desperately needs and deserves. He didn’t need that on his conscience right now. “I wasn’t - I just…you startled me. I wasn’t expecting that reaction-”

“I didn’t like the way he talked to you.” He spat out, glaring at his hands in his lap. “And then the smug bastard thought he was gonna get away with holding back information like that and I just…I dunno.”

His hand came off his thigh, but he hesitated. Before he could put it down again, you slipped your hand under his, linking your fingers, running your thumb in circles against his palm. “Don’t let him get to you, Buck. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

A sigh left his lips and he nodded. “I know, I know. It’s just…hard. After everything he put me through - put us through - I…I just hate that he’s really our only option.”

You frowned, shifting on the bed to face him, one leg bending beneath you while the other still hung over. “Why are you so obsessed with catching these guys?”

“I wanna do something right.” He murmured, playing with your fingers. “I’ve done so much wrong…I just wanna do something right. And I feel...responsible for it, I guess. In a way. It’s Super Soldier Serum. I thought I was the only one after Steve…” He froze at the blonde’s mention, giving you a side-eyed glance. You nudged him, silently telling him to continue, that it was okay to talk about him. “And Sam’s right, you know. She’s just a kid. So…I dunno. I wanna help. I wanna do something right. And catching them would help. It’s right. Right?”

You nodded firmly. “I understand where they’re coming from. Karli’s just trying to help the world. But she’s doing it wrong. And that I know for absolute certainty. Which is good, I guess. I was talking to Sam early and I mentioned not knowing my right from my left recently. It’s good I know something, huh? And for you it should be easy telling your right from your left.” You joked, tracing the gold lines on his metal arm. “I guess you’re just gonna have to stay besides me to help me remember.”

Looking up, you found Bucky staring at you with something you recognized in his eyes, but didn’t want to name. “Three hours, forty two minutes and thirty one seconds.”

“What?”

“That’s how long I didn’t talk to you. It was too long.”

You sighed, ducking your head. “Bucky, I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry. For anything and everything I’ve ever done wrong. I won’t mention the plane or anything we’ve talked about until you bring it up first. I promise. Just…just don’t ignore me anymore? I'm not sure I can handle it for much longer.”

You nodded, watching your fingertips dance along his scruffy jaw. “I won’t.” He caught your wrist, opening his mouth, before shaking his head and closing it. “What?”

He shook his head again. “Not until you bring it up.”

“We will talk, James. I promise.”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it. I really do. It’s okay. As long as we’re okay for right now, I can hold it in a bit longer.”

You nearly asked him what he was holding in, but you quickly shoved the question out of your mind, knowing it would take you down a conversation you couldn’t possibly have right then. “How long do you think we have?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Zemo just said that it’s this afternoon. Why?”

“I started reading The Great Gatsby on the plane. I’ve got it on my phone. It kinda reminds me of you. Do you-do you think we have time to read some? Only if you want, I mean. Like we used to do in Wakanda?”

He grinned and nodded, scooting up on the bed and flopping down into the pillows. You smiled back, following his lead. Once you were comfortable, your phone out with the chapter you were on, Bucky scooted closer, laying his head on your stomach, hugging your waist.

“Is this okay?”

Your fingers found home in his hair and you nodded when he looked up at you for an answer. “Yeah. It’s perfect, Buckaroo.”

2K notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

So Live A Lie, Just Tonight, And Burn Out Bright

Batsis x Hal Jordan One-Shot

Word Count: 3.8K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes

Author's Note: I decided to compile that one Batsis "story" into one doc, and I added the alternate ending for the one anon who asked! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“Alright, easy sis, easy,” he worried, watching her carefully for signs of pain flickering across her face as he helped her off the bike.

She scowled, managing to drag her injured leg forward. “Quit nagging. I’m—ngh—fine.”

“You’re on emergency oxycodone and you’ve got a broken femur,” he retorted. “I’m nagging until you’re in surgery.”

“Ugh, stop reminding me.”

Someone hauled her off her feet with a quiet, “I’ve got you.”

She grunted in pain laying on the gurney. “Thanks, dad.”

“Miss Wayne, are you alright?”

Her eyes found Alfred’s. “I’m good. I just ne—motherfucker!” she yelped, glaring at her father who was squeezing her thigh. “Hey! That’s broken, jackass! Quit!”

Bruce grunted. “You need an ORIF now.”

A pinch in her arm made her twitch and she turned her attention to Alfred who was uncapping a needle. “Alfred, what’s that?”

He shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, Miss Wayne.” Smiling, he stuck the needle into the line. “You’ll feel better when you awaken.”

Her vision blurred rapidly, “Gonna take…a nap…now…” her head lolled, and Bruce met Alfred’s gaze.

“Call Damian. He’s got the steady hand we’ll need.”

***

“How’re you feeling?” Jason asked, setting a cup of juice on the bedside table.

She blinked slowly, staring at her fingers. “Why are my fingers like this?”

“Like what, Queenie?”

“Bendy,” she replied, flexing her fingers. “It’s fuckin’ weird.” She looked at him. “I feel weird.”

He snorted, nodding at Dick and the others who were walking in at the sound of her voice. “You’re on hydromorphone, sis.”

“Hydro—what-what?”

“Hydromorphone, sister,” Damian said. “It has increased your threshold for pain and reduced the perception of it.”

She stared at him like she hadn’t heard a word come out of his mouth. “I didn’t understand a single goddamn word that you just said.”

Snickers sounded around her, but her head was up in the clouds and she rested back against her pillow. Her family gathered around her, sitting up on the bed, and suddenly she cocked her head up, squinting at each of them.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Bruce inquired.

“Where’s Dick?”

“I’m right here, sis,” he answered, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “What’s up?”

“Why’d you break up with Kori?”

His eyes widened. “I—what?”

“Kori. Tall alien with the shooty-hands.”

“I know who she is. What about our breakup?”

“Are you kidding me? That woman is spectacular, and you broke up with her. She’s gorgeous, wicked intelligent, fantastic in bed and—”

“Wait, back up there,” he interrupted. “Good in bed? Did you sleep with, Kori?”

“Oh yeah, totally. I was her rebound after you.”

Dick blinked while the others cackled. “Have you…have you slept with any other exes?”

“Of yours? Or in general with the family’s exes?”

“Wait,” Jason said. “Have you slept with any of mine?”

“Did you date Artemis?”

He shrugged. “Sort of?”

“Then, yes.” She looked at Bruce. “I slept with Selina too, but to be completely honest we were both drunk and I don’t think either of us remember.”

“I uh—” he started, then quieted. “I didn’t know you were gay, sweetheart.”

She let out a ‘pfft’. “I’m not.”

“Oh, you’re bi, then?” Dick smiled and she shook her head.

“Nah, I like the wine but not the label.” She grinned. “I’m a lover of people.”

“How many superheroes have you slept with?” Tim questioned and she pursed her lips.

“Uh…I dunno…kinda lost count.”

For a moment no one said a word, then Jason asked, “You know how we call Dickhead the fuck-boy? Can we refer to you as that now? I think you’ve topped his count.”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare and she pointed at him, though she was seeing double, so it was entirely possible that she was pointing at the wall. “Keep that up and I’ll sleep with your best friend again.”

“You slept with Roy?!”

“I was talking about Kyle, but Roy works too.”

“OH MY GOD! IS THERE ANYONE YOU HAVEN’T SLEPT WITH?”

She thought for a moment, then offered, “Diana. But I asked her out last weekend so it’s up in the air until our date.”

***Part Two***

There was only one rule that everyone collectively followed in Wayne Manor and that was: no excessive noise until after twelve P.M. It was mostly influenced by Alfred who’d more than once pulled out the shotgun but surprisingly, mornings were usually calm and quiet. Keywords: “Were” and “Usually”. There were some special cases.

An ear-splitting scream shattered the silence of the breakfast room and in an instant, everyone was jumping from the table, sprinting towards the staircase to find out what was quite possibly murdering their eldest sister. As they neared the staircase, they came face to face with her as she stood behind the banister, her hands gripping the railing until her knuckles started whitening.

“Sis, what’s wrong?” Dick worried, already starting to come up the steps, Jason and Tim close behind.

“I’m late,” she whispered, and they leaned forward.

“What was that?” Bruce inquired, brows furrowing, and she looked at him.

“I’m late.” Her voice was firmer this time.

He blinked. “How long?”

“Two months.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Jason questioned, shaking his head and she scowled.

“My period’s late, jackass.”

She wished she’d taken a photo of their faces, because nothing would ever amuse her as much as the way their jaws went slack, eyes widening in total shock. Running a hand down her face, she groaned, “Oh my God. I knew something was up. I completely forgot about it.”

“Sooooo…” Tim drawled out with a recovered grin. “Who’s the daddy?”

Her eyes narrowed and she shot him a glare. “Shut. Up.”

“C’mon sis, someone—some guy did it for you.” Jason quipped. “Who’s the lucky man?” he paused, seeming to remember something. “How many superheroes have you slept with in two months? That have dicks, of course.” She clenched her jaw and his eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no…is it, Roy?”

“It’s not Roy!” she hissed.

“Kyle?” Dick offered and she shook her head.

“No. I’ve only slept with one guy in the past two months.”

“Who was it sister?” Damian quizzed, placing his hands on his hips. “I have yet to meet anyone acceptable for you to populate with.”

“Thanks Damian,” she griped, then groaned. “Oh God, I know who it is too. And I wish I didn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

Her eyes found Tim’s. “Because we were drunk as hell after a League mission.”

“Who is it?” Bruce grunted and she met his gaze.

“You’re not going to like it.”

Something passed between them, and his eyes narrowed. “Please don’t say that’s who you slept with.”

She nodded, pressing a hand to her face, hiding her embarrassment. “Mhm.”

“You slept with him?”

“Unfortunately.”

Jason looked between his sister and father. “Wait, I’m confused. What’s going on?” A snort sounded beside him, and he looked over, seeing Dick in tears. “Why are you crying? What’s so funny?”

Dick cackled. “SHE SLEPT WITH HAL JORDAN!”

Another round of slack jawed brothers appeared in her sight, and she hissed. “It was an accident!”

“YOU’RE HAVING A BABY WITH HAL JORDAN!” Dick gasped, starting to drop to his knees from laughing so hard. “OH MY GOD, YOU SLEPT WITH THE GUY DAD HATES THE MOST!”

“You slept with Hal Jordan?” Tim gagged. “Ew.”

“Sister, I am disgusted in your choice of partners for children.” Damian noted and she scowled.

“I hate all of you.” she looked at Bruce.

He sighed heavily, a defeated father…or maybe a defeated grandfather. “I’ll go call Hal…and order prenatal vitamins.”

She ran a hand down her face. “I’ll call Leslie and get in for an exam.”

“Holy shit,” Jason gasped. “We’re gonna be uncles!”

***Part Three***

He shifted the phone to rest between his ear and shoulder, hands busy pouring coffee into his cup. “Hello?”

What are you doing right now?

“Bruce? Is that you?”

Answer the question, Hal.

He rolled his eyes and frowned. “Well, it’s nine A.M., I’m making a cup of coffee. I know bats are nocturnal, so this might come as a surprise to someone like you, but rest assured it’s a normal habit for us normal folks.”

How fast can you get to Gotham City?

“Willingly?” Hal chuckled, setting down the coffee pot to grab the phone. “What’s going on?”

I need your…help…with something. And I need you in Gotham as fast as you can get here…please.

He almost dropped both the phone and coffee mug. “Did you just say you need my he—” the line went dead with a click, and he pulled the phone from his ear. “Asshole,” Hal scowled and shoved the phone in his pocket, before putting the mug down. His body flashed green as he suited up and he sighed. “Can’t believe I gotta go to the land of the living dead at nine A.M.”

***

He rubbed his temples as he disconnected the call, barely suppressing the sigh that wanted to escape him. “Are you mad at me?” he heard behind him, low, scared, and worried; he shook his head.

“No.”

She leaned against the desk, staring down at the side of his head. “Are you disappointed in me?”

Bruce sighed this time. “At your basic lack of common sense and sleeping with a team member despite the fact that I’ve told you time and again that inner-team-dalliances only end badly? Yes.” He turned his eyes to her. “But for being pregnant? Never.”

“Doesn’t seem like it, dad,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest; he watched them lower to hold her stomach.

“I think Hal Jordan’s an idiot,” he stated. “If it seems like I’m upset, it’s because he’s going to be my grandchild’s father and I’ll have to be nice to him now.” She huffed a laugh and he reached over, placing a hand on her arm. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. We’ll take care of this.”

“I know, it’s just…” she sighed. “I never expected this to happen.”

“No one ever does,” Bruce answered. “Have you contacted Leslie yet?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go see her around three.” Grunting, she muttered, “Figured if Hal got here in as soon as possible, we’d have enough time to sit and talk about this before we went.” She ran a hand over her face. “God, I can’t believe I Hal knocked me up.”

“Please don’t say that,” Bruce griped. “I don’t like that phrase.”

“But that’s what happened, dad. I got knocked up by Hal.”

“Why do you hate me?” he scowled, dropping his head into his hands. “How did this even happen?”

Sighing, she recounted, “After the mission in Brazil, Hal invited Barry back to Coast City for a drink and Barry invited me.” She shrugged. “I didn’t wanna be rude even if I am typically antisocial, so I accepted, and we got there and found a bar. After a couple hours, Barry had to get back to Central and we just decided to keep drinking.”

She grunted. “Hell, by seven thirty we were already gone so we got a ride back to his place and he offered to let me stay the night and one thing led to another and—”

Bruce raised his hand, effectively silencing her. “I can infer what happened after that.” He rubbed his temples. “Let’s just wait for Hal to get here, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, falling silent.

***

Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Jordan, is here, sir.” They both looked up from the Batcomputer at the test pilot.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said, and the butler nodded, ascending the steps.

Hal walked towards them. “So, what’s the deal? Why do you need me?”

Bruce looked at her and she sighed. “Actually, I’m the one who needed you to come here, Hal.”

His brown eyes darted to hers, a flash, a recognition of something and he nodded. “Aright. What’s up?”

“Dad…give us a moment?” he nodded and stood from the Batcomputer, walking to the medical section on the other side of the cave. She waved Hal over. “You might wanna sit down.”

He did, albeit suspiciously. “Why are you acting so…weird?”

“Hal,” she said, then looked at her hands. “I’m…ah crap.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowing.

She took a deep breath and admitted, “My period’s late and there’s a good chance I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Hal didn’t say a word, then he burst into laughter. “Oh, that’s hilarious!” he held his stomach and wiped his eyes. “That’s a good one.”

“I’m not joking, Hal,” she spat. “In the last three months, you’re the only man I’ve had sex with. If I’m pregnant, you’re the father.”

He stopped laughing at that. “Are you being serious?”

“Dead.”

Hal ran a hand through his brown hair and let out a shocked breath. “Holy hell.” She watched him and he gaped at her. “W-what…what do we do?”

“I’ve got an appointment with Doctor Leslie at four. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.” Swallowing thickly, he said, “Does he know?”

“Dad? Yeah. They all do.”

“They?” he repeated, eyes wide.

“My brothers.”

“You told them we slept together?”

She chuckled. “Apparently a year ago under heavy meds, I admitted I slept with Dad, Dick, and Jason’s exes.” She shrugged. “There’s not much I keep from them.”

Hal’s eyes shifted to Bruce’s back. “Can’t imagine the Big-Bat is happy about this.”

“Oh, he’s not. He thinks you’re an idiot, but judging by the look on your face, you already know that.”

He scoffed. “Your dad likes to think he’s smarter than everyone else.”

She cocked a brow. “He is.”

“And it seems like you’re following that strain well,” he shot back, and they glared at each other before cracking smiles.

“If this is real, we’re going to be some parents, huh?”

Hal could sense the fear in her voice, and he stood in front of her, placing his hands on her hips. “Hey,” he murmured. “No parents are perfect. And we’re sure as hell not.”

“If this is supposed to cheer me up, it’s not.”

“I’m not trying to cheer you up. I’m trying to reassure you,” he corrected, squeezing her hips lightly. “We’ll work through this, and we’ll do it together.”

She gazed at him then heaved a sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thanks Hal.”

“Don’t mention it,” he chuckled, then murmured, “But if we really are going to be parents, should we tie the knot?”

“Absolutely not.”

***

“Hal, for the love of God, will you sit down?” she griped. “You’re starting to make me anxious with all that pacing.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before shrugging off his bomber. “I can’t help it,” he retorted. “I hate waiting.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “Leslie’s working as fast as she can. Just sit down and be patient.”

Hal paced for another minute before collapsing into the seat beside her; she took his hand in hers and rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand. “What are you doing?” he asked, and she hummed.

“Comforting you.”

“Why?”

She looked at him. “Because you’re worried.”

“How are you not?”

“I am,” she commented, and he scowled.

“You don’t look it.”

“Well, that’s because I was trained to retain my emotions a as child,” she retorted. “It helps when I’m dealing with children who are scared.”

“I’m not a child,” Hal hissed, and she snorted.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You know what? I’m gonna—”

The door opened and their mouths snapped shut as Leslie walked in with a smile. “Good afternoon.”

“Hey Leslie,” she greeted, then glanced at the papers in her hand. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Leslie handed her the file and she looked it over. “Case of irregular period, dear.”

She blinked and said dumbly, “I’m not pregnant?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Our bodies act up sometimes, even when we’re grown. Irregularities can still happen even now.” Clearing her throat, Leslie added, “But your blood and urinalysis came back negative. You’re not pregnant.” She looked between Hal and her. “With the results, you’re free to leave.”

She stood to her feet, but when Hal didn’t, she tugged his hand. “Hal,” she whispered. “Come on.”

He staggered to his feet. “Yeah, I’m coming.” He disappeared out of the clinic room, and she sighed, then looked at Leslie.

“Thanks doc.”

“Of course.”

***

They were quiet on the park bench, watching the sun reflect off the water and listening to the birds singing in the sky. “So…I guess that’s a relief,” Hal stated, and she nodded.

“Yeah. I guess it is.” Laughing, she said, “I mean could you imagine if I were actually carrying your kid?” when he didn’t laugh, she looked over at him. “Hal?”

He blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah, couldn’t imagine it.”

“Hal,” she plead. “Are you upset that I’m not?”

“What? No. No, I’m relieved you’re not pregnant, but…” he sighed and shrugged. “I dunno at the same time as scared as I was, I was happy, you know? Ready to step up and be there for you.”

She lowered her gaze to his hands and reached over, placing hers over his and he took it, squeezing. “Well, look at it this way. This was the universe telling you that you’re ready to be a father and this was the universe telling me that I’m not ready to be a mom or your baby’s mother.”

Hal gazed at her for a moment then chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He squeezed her hand again and climbed to his feet, flashing green as his suit appeared. “Now that everything’s sorted out, I should be getting back to Coast City.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed, standing to her feet.

“Can I drop you off anywhere?”

“Nah, I’m gonna walk around for a bit,” she said.

Hal took to the sky then looked down at her. “If you ever find yourself ready…call me?”

A shocked laugh bubbled in her chest, and she shook her head. “Not a chance in hell, Jordan.”

“Come on, don’t you think it would be fun to have the old Bat call me his son in law?”

Giggling, she waved him off. “Get out of here, Hal.”

Winking, he replied, “See you later, babe.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle and watch him leave, then she shook her head. “Ridiculous.” But a small smile was still on her lips as she headed down the street.

***Alternate Ending***

She gazed numbly out at the water, not sure if she should feel surprise or shock, but whatever emotion she was feeling had completely dumbfounded her. She was pregnant. Her hands had unconsciously pressed tight to her stomach, and she felt sick more than anything. Sick, scared, ashamed, every emotion that came with sleeping with a coworker—and every TV show and movie where the woman got pregnant from the affair.

How was she going to explain this to her family? To her friends? How was she going to face their scrutiny? Pregnant out of wedlock? With the biggest skirt-chasing, arrogant asshole in the galaxy? She’d take the brunt of their scathing opinions. He’d get off scot-free. He’d—

“(Y/N).” Someone’s hand rested on her shoulder, and she blinked, suddenly brought from her stupor and she looked over at him; his gaze was full of worry. “Are you okay?”

Instantly, she felt angry, and she jerked away from him, standing to her feet. “Am I okay!” she shouted. “You got me pregnant! Do you have any idea what this is going to do to us! To our reputations! To mine!”

Irritation etched across his face, and he stood to his feet, getting in her face. “It takes two to tango, (Y/N). We both did this—not just me.”

Her mouth opened to retort sharply, but damned if he didn’t have a point and she shut her mouth, tasting something bitter as she looked away. “I’m going home.”

She turned and his hand shot out, grabbing hold of her arm. “Wait, I don’t want you going alone.”

“Let go of me.” She hissed, trying to pull away, but he tightened his grip.

“No. It’s too dangerous for you to be out alone.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to Jordan. I’m—”

“The mother of my child.” Hal declared and she gaped at him. “I know what you and your family think of me. I know you think I’m an arrogant asshole and yeah, I’ll admit that I am.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. “But if you think for a second, I’m going to let you wander around this bat-shit crazy city alone while pregnant, then you’re the one who’s being arrogant.”

He searched her gaze. “I’m many things, (Y/N). But I’m not going to abandon you or shy away from whatever this is.”

She swallowed thickly. “What do you mean ‘whatever this is’? Parents?”

“Us.” Hal said. “Maybe it’s just my big head, but I see the way you look at me. Yeah, I annoy the hell out of you, but you care for me.” He reached up, cupping her cheek. “And I care about you too. More than just what teammates should for one another.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say, because he did have a point. Hal was an annoying prick who at many times provoked her into physical confrontation, but on the other hand, there was nothing she loved more than fighting with him, because she knew he found it just as amusing.

Her gaze lowered and she felt tears well in her eyes. “I’m scared, Hal.”

“I know. I am too,” he murmured. “But we’re going to get through this.” He tipped her head up, catching her eyes once more. “We will get through this. Together.”

(Y/N)’s lips wobbled, and she tried for a lighthearted comment. “Isn’t fraternization against the rules?”

Hal grinned. “Only in the military.” He winked. “Last time I checked—we’re not in it.”

She laughed, leaning forward, and pressed her forehead to his. “How’s everyone going to react to this?”

He shrugged. “Probably with shock. I mean about me getting a girl pregnant? Not likely. Getting you pregnant? More likely.”

“Shut up.”

“I think we should consider getting married though.”

(Y/N) pulled away and stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Hal looked at her. “(Y/N), we should think about getting married. I mean, we’re gonna have a kid together. Might as well tie the knot while we’re at it.”

She merely blinked and spun, walking off. “Nope. Not happening. I’ll be your baby-mama, but I am not marrying you.”

“Hey! Wait up!”

351 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 3 years

Text

Just Friends - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 5034

Foreword:

I have never written anything for an actual person. For my own comfort, I will not be referring to Cillian’s actual family and, instead, I have created two small biographies for the Reader and Cillian.

Biography:

The Reader:

The Reader is 24 years old and recently moved to Dublin with her 5 year old son, Max in order to take up a fantastic job offer.

Max’s father isn’t interested in a relationship with his son and separated from the Reader pretty much as soon as she found out that she was pregnant.

The Reader is a novelist and editor for the Irish Times.

The Reader’s interests include books, listening to records, theatre and attending live music gigs.

The Reader has a close relationship with her grandmother who is 65 years old and a writer herself. She also lives in Dublin with her second husband, who is originally from Galway.

Cillian:

Cillian is 42 years old in this story. He is divorced from his wife Siobhan and has two kids, Charlie (6) and Hendricks (8).

He lives in a town house in Dublin and shares custody.

In this story, he finished filming Season 4 of Peaky Blinders about three months ago, which is when the Reader first met him.

---------------------------

JUST FRIENDS

Three and a half months ago you moved to Dublin to take a position as editor at the Irish Times. Initially, the move was daunting to you as you were a single mother and moving your son to a different preschool concerned you.

Fortunately, your grandmother was living in Dublin as well and offered to help you with looking after your son, Max. She was a retired novelist herself and you always had a close relationship with her. Having her around was a blessing.

Over the years, you also met some Irish writers and established good relationships with them. Therefore, finding friends in Dublin was not an issue.

One of your best friends was a play writer from London and was working in Ireland at the time, promoting her theatre play called ‘Blessings’. She introduced you to a bunch of people, most of which were working in the entertainment industry in some way or another.

Whilst all of your new found friends were a fair bit older than you, you related to them. You had interests in common and most of them had children, just like you. They understood that sometimes plans had to be cancelled and flexibility was limited. Having children is a commitment which many of your younger friends didn’t understand. You weren’t interested in late nights because a young child meant early mornings. For this reason, you would much rather attend a dinner and board game night as a opposed to a night club.

And this is how you met a very interesting man named Cillian. Three months ago, your friend Orla invited you to a board game night with a couple of her friends. Cillian was pretty much the only other single person in attendance and, since this was a board game that had to be played in teams of two, you and Cillian were paired up with him.

He was funny and smart and very attractive. You had a good time that night and even won the game with your combined knowledge of random trivial facts.

He was a fun person to be around and you had several common interests.

Over the next few months, you spent a fair bit of time together, mostly with other friends but sometimes alone when your friends were doing things as couples with their partners.

Just recently, you went record shopping together and the weekend before last you and another friend of yours would take all of your kids to Dublin Zoo for the day. Your son Max developed a great friendship with Cillian’s youngest son Charlie. Playdates were a common occurrence.

While both of you separately explored the dating world, you really enjoyed Cillian’s company as a friend and he enjoyed yours and you would often chat about the mishaps you encountered and laugh about them. Dates gone wrong was one of your favourite topics.

The last relationship Cillian had was with a co-worker, which was far from ideal. They’ve met on set of one of his movies about a year after he divorced from his wife, but things didn’t go as planned and the relationship didn’t last. It ended about four months ago, being just one month before you met.

The last relationship you had was over a year ago and it also didn’t last as your boyfriend couldn’t deal with the fact that you were a single mum and that your son always came first.

For Valentines Day this year, your friends set up dates for each of you. It was disastrous. Neither of you were interested in committing at this point and you both were rather flustered about your friends’ efforts after you both had told them not to bother.

You were happy singles.

Theatre Night

As happy singles, you decided to go and see your friend’s new play ‘Blessings’ with some of your other friends on the night you all managed to be child free for once. It took a while to organise but was worth the effort.

‘Hi Max, how was preschool?’ Cillian asked as he opened the door to your townhouse for Cillian while you were in the bathroom, putting up your hair.

Max met Cillian numerous times and got along with him very well. After all, Cillian had a son the same age as Max.

‘Good. Do you want me to show you what I made?’ Max asked while you waived at Cillian from the bathroom.

‘Absolutely, show me’ Cillian said with a smile as he followed Max into the living room.

‘Look’ Max said as he held up two paintings.

‘Wow, is that a T-Rex?’ Cillian asked, causing Max to nod with excitement.

‘That’s very cool…he looks super scary’ Cillian added just as there was another knock on the door.

It was your grandmother who was here to pick up Max for his sleepover at her house.

You opened the door and asked Max to get his bag from the living room which you had packed for him earlier.

‘Nan, this is my friend Cillian’ you said as you introduced Cillian to your grandmother.

‘Hello Cillian, I am Margot. I loved Grief is a Thing with Feathers. It was such an intense play’ she said, knowing right away who he was despite the fact that you had never mentioned him to her before.

‘Thank you Margot and I loved By The Sea, it was a fantastic book’ Cillian responded. He read the book after you told him about your grandmother. Your writing style was very similar to hers and he always loved a good book.

‘Oh thank you very much. Now Max, are you ready?’ your grandmother asked.

Max was ready and you said goodbye, giving him a big hug and thanking your grandmother for looking after him for the night.

While Cillian waited in the living room, you finished your make up and slipped on your shoes.

‘Thank you for picking me up. I really have no idea where this place is’ you said as you grabbed your bag and the two of you were heading out of the door.

‘Any time Y/N, it isn’t far from here actually’ Cillian said.

As you were walking to the Arthouse Theatre you talked about all sorts of things, music, childcare and books.

It was a cold night in Dublin and you were probably underdressed for the occasion.

At the Arthouse Theatre you met up with another two friends of yours. They were both married, to each other, and shared three children. Luckily for them, they had a baby sitter that night.

The play was amazing and you all enjoyed it with a few glasses of wine which were served at the theatre. Cillian had good taste when it came to wine and you usually sought his guidance on what to order.

After you left the theatre, you felt awfully hungry. You hadn’t eaten dinner that night.

‘I am starving, is anyone else up for Pizza?’ you asked your three friends, including Cillian

‘We would love to, but only have a baby sitter until 9pm, sorry’ Amanda said, explaining that she and her husband had to head home fairly soon.

‘What about you Cilly?’ you asked.

‘I would love some Pizza, let’s go to Pizzinis’ he said.

Both you and Cillian said goodbye to your friends and made your way to Pizzinis.

As usual, it was packed and there were no table available.

‘Wanna grab them take away and go back to my place? I’ve got wine and you can show me this new album you were talking about earlier’ you said.

‘Sounds good, let’s do that’ Cillian said before ordering two pizzas.

More than Friends

You arrived at your apartment about 30 minutes later and Cillian put on some music. He found this new Irish band he liked and you were really keen to hear them.

‘Hmm Indie…I like it’ you said as he connected his i-phone to your speakers.

‘Wine?’ you asked as you grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf.

‘Yes please and thanks’ Cillian said as he put the pizzas on the table.

‘I was meant to ask you, how was your Valentine’s date?’ Cillian asked before taking the first bite of the pizza.

‘Oh god, don’t remind me on it please’ you said with a laugh.

‘That good ey? What happened?’ Cillian laughed.

‘He was weird. He basically left after I told him about Max’ you responded.

‘I think that sometimes guys your age might be a bit freaked out by the fact that you have child. I can’t say that I blame them. I couldn’t imagine myself becoming a step father when I was in my 20s’ Cillian said.

‘He was 32’ you responded.

‘Well maybe he was just weird and you are just unlucky when it comes to dating’ Cillian laughed.

‘Yeah, maybe…I am just over dating’ you said…’What about your date?’ you asked.

‘Pretty average. I mean she was nice but had no sense of humour’ Cillian said.

‘Oh what, wait…she didn’t laugh at your Irish jokes?’ you laughed.

‘Outrageous I know. I mean how could she not?’ Cillian joked.

‘Here is to failed dates’ you said as you held up your wine glass for a toast.

‘To failed dates’ Cillian responded with smile.

Over the next hour or so, Cillian and you finished both pizzas and talked about books, including the book you were currently writing, music and embarrassing things your kids had done.

Quite music was playing in the background by then while you talked and laughed together until Cillian brought up a specific book he had read recently, written by a writer named J A Hanson, which he said reminded him on you in a way.

‘I have read all of her books and I really wish I could write romance as well as her’ you said.

‘Her books aren’t exactly romantic’ Cillian responded.

‘Her storylines aren’t romantic, but the character she uses in all of her books involves herself romantically with several other characters throughout the series. The way she writes makes you relate to the character even in these intimate moments’ you explained.

‘She is 60 and probably speaking from experience. I have read in a paper a few months back that she had quite an interesting and adventurous youth in the 70s and 80s’ Cillian said.

‘Free Love…Yeah, I have read this too’ you laughed. ‘Perhaps I just need some inspiration to get over my block, otherwise I will never finish this damn novel’ you said as you poured yourself some more wine.

‘You don’t have to answer this, but when was the last time that…?’ Cillian asked and, before he could finish his question, you interrupted him.

‘That I had sex? Gosh…well over a year ago’ you responded, causing Cillian’s chin to drop.

‘Over a year? Seriously? I mean, surely, a woman like you would get plenty of offers…’ Cillian said, not knowing what else to tell you.

‘A woman like me? What do you mean by that Cilly?’ you asked with a slight giggle.

‘Well, you are attractive, smart and funny. You would get a fair bit of interest’ Cillian responded.

‘So, you think I am attractive?’ you asked with a smirk, causing Cillian to choke slightly on his wine. He regretted what he had said almost instantly, causing awkwardness between you.

‘Well yeah, I think you are an attractive woman’ Cillian said quietly. ‘In a totally objective way of course’ he added, while, just in this moment, you observed his facial expressions.

You observed him drop his eyes to your lips as he said it, and then lower to the place where your shirt opens at the collar, the buttons undone to below your collarbone.

He pressed his lips together. ‘I think I should probably get go…’ he said, and, before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in and kissed him suddenly, like the peck you give a boy you like on the school bus the second before you jump up and get off – a brief bravery without a plan.

He was caught by surprise.

‘Y/N’ he said and, before he could say something else, you apologised to him for what just happened.

‘I am sorry Cilly, I don’t know what just came over me’ you said.

‘It’s alright, I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was inappropriate’ Cillian said.

But, with Cillian’s response, you couldn’t leave it alone and asked ‘So, you don’t think that I am attractive?’ you asked, giggling slightly with some embarrassment.

‘Any man who thinks that you aren’t attractive is clearly blind. But, with that being said, it doesn’t matter what I think, you are 18 years younger than me and it would be wrong for us to take this further. Despite, I don’t want to fuck up our friendship’ Cillian said calmly.

You didn’t know what to say to his comment and, instead of using any words, you ran your hand gently over the side of his perfect face while biting your lip.

‘Just one kiss between friends then, we can blame the red wine after’ you whispered as a comfortable hot feeling washed over you. You felt some sort of attraction towards Cillian since the moment you met him, but didn’t want to admit it to yourself, let alone to him.

‘I don’t know Y/N’ Cillian said as you leaned closer towards him and pressed your lips onto his. You knew he was reluctant but he didn’t push you away.

To the contrary, as you kissed him, his hand came up in a rush to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Within seconds, his tongue slipped between your lips, whispering over your teeth and began dancing with your tongue.

You noticed the brush of his stubble on your cheek, the press of his lips on yours and the way his mouth tasted, a mix of minty gum and red wine.

It shouldn’t have been so hot, but it was. The taste of him, the smell and flavour, and it made you whimper in your throat. You knew this was one off and you didn’t want this moment to end.

‘Are you ok?’ he asked after he pulled back a little and paused. He was scanning your eyes and there was a cautious considering from his side. You could tell that he was surprised about what had just happened.

‘Yeah, you?’ you said as you couldn’t help yourself but stare into his baby blue eyes.

‘Yes’ he said as he cleared his throat slightly.

There was an awkward silence in the room and you couldn’t stand it.

You build up all of your courage again and leaned over him, pressing your lips onto his once more.

Cillian didn’t hesitate then.

His tongue slipped right back into the same spot than before, before his lips then moved over your face and down to your neck, leaving gentle bites and kisses.

Cillian’s hands were busy touching you at the same time his lips were trailing over your neck.

One of his hands was in your hair at the back of your head while his other hand was moving down to press the small of your back so that your body was pulled forward into his.

As you were exchanging passionate kisses, you could feel the shape of him, the firmness of his body against yours, your legs pressing into his and his chest pressing into your breasts. You could also feel his erection through his jeans, hard as anything, rigid and warm against your tummy.

By this time, you wanted more than just kisses.

‘Sleep with me, just that once’ you whispered.

‘I can’t Y/N, you are 24, it is not right’ Cillian said pulling away from you.

‘It’s just sex Cilly, I am old enough for that’ you laughed.

‘Yes, but I don’t want this to ruin our friendship’ Cillian said.

‘It won’t. There are no strings attached, it’s just sex. Unless you don’t want me’ you responded. ‘Although I think you do’ you giggled as you ran your hand over his pants, feeling his erection.

Your comment made Cillian chuckle.

‘This is a one off, alright?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘One off…and it stays our little secret’ you said before smashing your lips back onto his for another minute or two.

After you exchanged more passionate kisses you stood up.

‘Common, I show you my bedroom’ you said cheekily, taking his hand and guiding him towards the bed.

‘Can you help me with this please’ you asked, turning around to face the bed. Your back was now facing Cillian and you pulled your hair aside so that he can open the zipper of your dress.

Cillian unzipped your dress carefully, exposing your black lace underwear.

As you pushed your dress down onto the floor, Cillian began kissing your back and neck, while running his hands over your breasts and stomach, all the way down in between your legs.

You let out a brief moan before turning around to face him and help him pull his t-shirt over his head, exposing his perfectly shaped biceps.

Looking into his eyes, your hand glided gracefully, for once, past Cillian’s belt buckle and into the holy crevice of his Calvin Klein briefs. His cock was hard and ready.

You moved it between my your slowly, relishing his obvious eagerness.

You used the other hand to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, shortly after which he pushed them down to the floor while your other hand never left his warm and hard cock.

After the jeans came off, Cillian pressed his lips back onto yours while using his skilled hands to unclip the back of your bra. The bra also landed on the floor within seconds.

‘Lie down’ he whispered into your ear. You obliged and crawled onto the bed, facing him.

He loomed over you, climbing on to the bed as you scooted backwards further so that he could straddle your hips while you pushed up against him, wanting the rub and friction against you.

Cillian kissed you passionately as one of his hands moved in between your legs.

He could feel your body tensing up as he ran his fingers over the top of your panties

After all, he knew that it had been a while since you’ve been with anyone. He knew to take it slow and give you some reassurance.

‘Just relax’ he whispered into your ear with his thick Irish accent as he edged his fingers over the lace of your panties, his hand leisurely rubbing up and down the length of your squirming crotch, until he pulled your underwear aside and slipped two fingers inside of you.

You could feel your mouth widen and a loud moan escaped you as he teased the full mound of your clit. The stroke of his thumb was purposeful and steady on your firm, dripping pulse while his fingers plunged in and out of you, sinking further and further.

You held onto him tightly as the slipperiness he found made it easy for him to penetrate you with his fingers. You were so wet.

You shuddered at the pattern, shocked to find it could still stun you, unlocking newfound levels of moisture and desire, even when you began to meet the repetition of his thrusts. You naturally tilted and buckled beneath him.

As he was pushing his fingers in and out of you, he trailed kisses down your neck while your hands clutched at his shoulders, scratched down his back, held him tighter to you as I screamed into his skin.

Cillian’s breath grew more desperate and rugged.

‘It seems like we should take these off’ he said, causing you to nod with anticipation.

‘Don’t move’ Cillian ordered as he lowered himself on the bed while removing your lace undies.

Within seconds, Cillian’s lips were an inch away from your crotch, where he painted your inner thigh with tiny and soft kisses.

Cillian pushed your legs apart gently and you knew what would be next. You have read about this many times but this was the first time any man had gone down on you before and you were nervously biting your lip.

You tried hard to relax as Cillian’s lips finally reached your entrance, tasting the evidence of how much you wanted him.

‘Oh god, fuck’ you moaned as his head dove between your legs. His tongue prodded you softly, short licks against your clit.

Instantly, all restraint and reservations you had vanished. You were relaxed completely as his tongue danced and writhed inside of you.

With each skillful stroke, your thighs clenched. But you still needed more and he read you just right; he didn’t stop as you pushed yourself up the bed. Instead, he held you steady, causing you to look down at him and watching his eyes widen as they met yours, reacting to the rush of your wetness.

‘Cillian, oh god…you need to stop, I am so close’ you moaned, not wanting it to be over. You never came more than once so you wanted to feel him inside of you first.

‘That’s good, just let go’ Cillian said quietly with a grin before he continued and slid two fingers back inside of you while whirling his tongue over your clit.

You couldn’t hold on any longer, no matter how hard you tried. Your exhales began to emerge as deepening sighs and you leaned my head back and lived out the fantasy that had flashed through your mind all along.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned as your back arched and a rush of ecstasy flew through your body. You grabbed onto Cillian’s hair as he sucked every drip from you as your orgasm flooded your body.

As you came down from your orgasm, Cillian shuffled himself back up the bed, kissing you passionately.

You could taste yourself on his lips and you were ready for more.

‘I want to feel you’ you whispered after your lips drifted apart and while reaching for Cillian’s hard cock.

‘Do you have a condom?’ he asked, causing you to nod. You had purchased some before your Valentine’s Date, just in case you needed them.

You reached for the bedside table and opened the pack of condoms, handing one to Cillian.

Cillian was quick to get rid of his briefs and put on the condom, before positioning himself on top of you, in between your legs.

He shuddered a great rushing gasp of breath as he entered you. He couldn’t believe how good you felt, so tight.

You felt him push into you then, slowly and carefully, filling you completely.

‘Cillian’ you moaned as you held onto him tightly as he slowly began to move.

With every thrust, you gasped, whimpered, soft mewling noises, begging for more.

You felt him all the way to your belly button and screamed out with pleasure, your hands taking the heat as he thrusted fast and deep.

As he picked up his pace, you got louder, groans becoming moans becoming shouts, and the bed frame thumped against the wall, louder and faster and louder and faster.

‘Oh god, don’t stop’ you moaned, his skin slapping against yours.

‘You are so beautiful’ Cillian said in between his moans before pulling out of you slowly and lifting up your legs above his shoulders.

He knew exactly that, this way, he would be reaching your g-spot while he was fucking you.

You were slightly surprised by this position but were flexible enough to run with it.

As he entered you again slowly, you let out a loud moan.

‘Fuck’ you moaned in between the high-pitched noises that escaped you.

‘Does this feel alright?’ Cillian asked, wanting to ensure that you are comfortable.

You nodded eagerly and whimpered a shaky ‘yes’ as he continued to thrust into you. He was right at your g-spot and you could barely control yourself.

He slowly picked up the speed and you could feel another orgasm coming on as the tip of his cock kept hitting your g-spot over and over again.

‘Cillian, oh my god, don’t stop…’ you moaned as you held onto his arms tightly.

You began to shake heavily as your orgasm washed over you and tears of joy escaped your eyes.

‘Fuck, Y/N’ Cillian groaned loudly as he felt your walls tightening around him. The sensation coupled with the sounds you were making sent him over the edge and he almost came in sync with you.

As soon as he came, you released your legs from his shoulders and he collapsed on top of you, kissing you passionately.

You could still feel Cillian pulsing inside you when the sudden oddness of what you had done washed over you.

‘Are we ok?’ Cillian asked as he slowly pulled out of you and removed the condom, disposing of it discreetly.

‘I think so’ you said shyly.

‘Good…because I really enjoyed this’ Cillian said as he ran one of his hands over your cheek gently.

‘Me too…plus, I’ve got some inspiration for my book now’ you said cheekily.

‘I am glad to having been of assistance. Make sure you credit me in the end notes’ Cillian said jokingly.

‘Hmm, if I did, it may become a best seller…Sex Scene Inspired by Cillian Murphy’ you said with laughter, causing Cillian to laugh also.

‘I should better get home’ Cillian said as he was playing with your hair. He really didn’t want to leave, but he felt as though it was inappropriate for him to stay the night.

‘You can stay here if you like…’ you offered, but Cillian declined.

After all, this was supposed to be a one off. You are nothing more than friends, or are you?

You accepted Cillian’s decision to leave and weren’t upset by it. You enjoyed your time with Cillian and slept well that night, snugging up in the doona which smelled like his aftershave.

Finishing the Book

The next morning, you got up early to begin writing the intimate chapter of your book. This was the chapter you had struggled with for a while and you finally felt comfortable writing it. If readers would know that, in this particular scene of your book, you were basically reliving your night with your friend, Cillian Murphy, that would be scandalous.

So, you decided to make sure that no one would ever find out about your little adventure.

Unfortunately for you, your grandma seemed to have a good sense of what was going on.

She was on time as usual and dropped Max back at your house at 10am.

‘Had a good night my dear? I can see you are working on your book.’ She said.

‘Yes nan, the play last night was lovely. It has given me some inspiration’ you said.

‘The play has given you some inspiration to write about orgasms?’ your grandmother asked with laughter as she read the screen on your lap top.

‘Nan! Oh my god, don’t read what I am writing’ you said with embarrassment.

‘Oh dear, it’s alright. Believe it or not, I used to write novels myself with a little hint of filth now and then. But, somehow, I don’t think that it was the play that gave you the inspiration to write this little naughty chapter. By looking at the bruises on your neck, perhaps it was your friend Mr Murphy who gave you this inspiration?’ your grandmother said with sarcasm.

‘Nan, no Jesus, please’ you said as your face became flushed.

‘Don’t be embarrassed dear’ your grandmother said. ‘It is good for you. I mean, he is handsome and I saw the way you looked at him yesterday evening…and the way he looked at you’ your grandmother continued.

‘There is nothing between us nan, we are just friends’ you explained with total embarrassment.

‘Alright dear, whatever you say’ your grandmother said, not believing a single word that came out of your mouth.

‘I better go, I have lunch with Alma later… I love you my dear’ your grandmother said before heading out of the door.

‘Love you too nan’ you said.

WHO WANTS A SECOND PART OF THIS?

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