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appalachianapologies · 8 months

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I don't want whatever the threat is. I dont eanna live in fear

Your ocs. Hand em over

OKAY i know it has been. weeks. months, even. however, I considered how I wanted to say this because too many characters too little time. but here we go:

A Penchant for the Ordinary

Jamie Caldwell is everyone's favorite character and by that I mean she's chaotic as hell, makes knee jerk reactions, definitely unknowingly has ADHD, extremely low self control, and her stress relief is punching people who (probably) deserve it. She's a gay mess in every sense of the word and has seriously tried so hard to get her life together and it's just. it's not working out for her. so, after accepting that fact, Jamie begins to embrace the chaotic and darker sides of herself. if her life is going to hell, she may as well take a free trip down as well and see what it's all about

Chloe and Gus together, because they're so codependent we quite literally never see them apart except for a single scene near the end where Gus hangs around to say one last thing before following her. As mentioned: codependent as hell. Not romantically involved but they know every single in and out of each other- moreso than most couples. While Jamie feels regret for her sudden reactions, Chloe basks in them and has never once wished she made a different decision. Gus typically has the braincell, but usually not for long- he's as much of an adrenaline junkie as everyone else.

Madison did not sign up for any of this shit. When my dad read my book, one of the things he told me was that it was so not necessary to put her through everything that I did. And although I agree, it was sadly necessary for Jamie's questionable character arc. Sorry Madison- but trust me, you're better off with a different girlfriend

Kat absolutely signed up for everything she gets herself into, even if she claims that she didn't. She goes around saying "I'm not involved with any of these people :|" and then actively hangs out with them and invites them to her apartment. for multiple days. She's the type of person that would claim to want to have a relaxing life but she literally chose not to. girl what

Davy tried his best. kind of. he could've done a hell of a lot better, but he also genuinely tried to do well to fix his mistakes. He's the type of person who will feel genuine regret for what he's done and try to rectify his mistakes, even if it takes uhhhhh a lot of time :)

Evelyn is a bastard. absolutely mad woman and in not a fun sexy hot way. Power hungry, unfazed by hurting anyone else in the process of getting what she wants, and yet she still sees herself as benevolent (she's not). Believes she's the main character of the book (she is not).

James did not deserve any of that. I'm sorry dude. That being said, your coping mechanisms were a little subpar. Sorry we still don't know exactly how you died (it's not a spoiler okay it's happened like ten years ago).

Daniel and Edward are absolutely in love but neither of them realize it and it's not a standard love. think qpr. think: they've known each other since elementary school and have gone through all of life together. loyal to a fault but would change on a hat to keep the other safe.

Obligatory Did these characters interest you? Do you want to read a subpar book but support a young author? You can buy A Penchant for the Ordinary here! Thank you in advanced for your support :D

and now: Paradigm

Delilah's trying her best except she makes about a few wrong turns, which ends up shaping her life for the next decade. Surprisingly little self esteem for a person in her job market, though she acts the opposite. She doesn't have enough of a filter but manages to charm her way past a lot of things that should've ended badly. The queen at pushing things down and pretending it never happened. Is aware that she's pretty much trapped, but doesn't believe she can get out.

Charlotte is still Delilah, but she's determined to change into someone else. A new woman who's better, stronger, more confident than Delilah. She becomes the femme fetal that Marcus had wanted since day one, and embraces it. She likes being the bad guy, relishes the feeling of knowing she's in the wrong, and pretends that she doesn't have a nagging feeling that she is, in fact, in the wrong.

Taylor is still Delilah, and parts of Charlotte bleed through to her as well. A changed woman. Mature, who believes that she's seen so much of life that she's immune to anything else that could be thrown at her. Truly believes that she can't change and was created to be bad. Acts like she couldn't give a damn about other people when in fact the opposite is true and she's just afraid of having weaknesses. Aren't we all.

Marcus is pretty much the worst person you can imagine. Runs a cool home business called "assassins for hire :)" (paraphrased). Although he used to do the dirty work himself, he now has employees that he keeps on a tight leash to do everything. Always has multiple contingency plans in case something goes wrong and the authorities get wind of him. If any employee screws up, Marcus gives them zero chances to fix it, and will round up everyone who fucked up last quarter, shoot them, and give them a shallow grave in the Nevada desert. Has an insanely creepy infatuation with Delilah.

Sid is quite possibly the only employee of Marcus that is somewhat on the genuinely good spectrum. ...or at least the "not actively trying to do bad" one. Ex-military, classic "never really left [insert place of war]." Hates Delilah until he begrudgingly doesn't hate Delilah. He knows that everything Marcus is doing is screwed up, but Sid's just going through the motions of life at this point. What's one more life for one more paycheck?

Lainey's name is still pending, but it'll probably end up as Lainey. Smarter than anyone in the world gives her credit for, and is very calculating. She knows more than she lets on as well, and uses that to her advantage. She's probably more forgiving than she should be, but that makes Lainey who she is. Eventually, the only one who knows the most about Delilah (and that isn't just because she sleeps with her. oops)

Rebecca is the classic TV CIA agent except she's actually real. She has poorly controlled OCD but pretends like she has everything under control at all times. After spending over half of a decade attempting to track and take in Marcus, she's eventually promoted to a higher up position, where she gets to create her own team, to finally, once and for all, bring in Marcus. Is pretty much willing to sacrifice it all for the job with little hesitation.

Carter is somewhere between Rebecca's second hand man while also being the worst (affectionate) gay hopeless romantic there is. He thinks he can juggle a relationship and CIA work but let me tell you. He's never learned how to juggle. Keeps Rebecca sane in every way you can think of, and the two often spend nights at each others' places because that's just what they do. Like Rebecca, he's on thin fucking ice with every higher up in the CIA. However, unlike Rebecca, he's excellent at damage control with their supervisor.

Unnamed Classic Hacker Character is still unnamed because no name has truly suited or worked with her. Trusts literally no one, especially not Taylor. Hates her guts, actually. Probably the only one who's actually confident about things, though she knows the least at any given time because she's a junior agent. Rebecca immediately was like "I want her" despite the fact that she graduated worst in her class. Opinionated and full of spite, in the way that every person in a fandom would fucking hate. Absolutely, without a doubt, a character I would love to write an 11 book series spin-off with

finally: Lou is for Lavender

Lou, originally Louisa, is going through it. The book is a journey on her life- or rather, the three months after escaping somewhere between an abusive boyfriend and being trafficked. With little identity, she finds herself constantly trying to figure out who she is, who she should be, and if there even exists a woman beyond the girl she used to be. She's genuinely trying her best, but fuck if it isn't hard. I love her. I love her so much. She is so lost but she's trying so hard to find her way back on a path. I could write five more paragraphs about her at any given time.

Maria is a six year old with far too much energy for someone her size. Absolutely infatuated with her grandmother and the way she used to read to Maria every single day and night, Maria begged her grandmother and Dana to teach her how to read by herself, which quickly morphed into writing. She'll write pages of six year old nonsense for hours without getting bored, and is absolutely thrilled to have a new friend around the house! never mind that she's an adult- Maria sees Lou as a built-in summer friend.

Dana has been putting on the best face for nearly five years. Although it wasn't her intention, after her mom got sick, she moved back to her family's ranch along with her three kids- Maria and two older boys. After her mom passed, she stayed, unable to bear the idea of leaving once more for good, but she's great at hiding that fact. The youngest of seven, Dana is caught somewhere between constantly feeling the need to prove herself while also knowing that no one's waiting and watching for her to grow anymore. Six kids came before her, and Dana genuinely believes that she simply slipped under the attention of everyone.

The Flowers are how Lou refers to the other women she met along the way. The girls who all had an intimate understanding of what she was going through, and yet nothing at all. The flowers are constantly living inside of Lou, always on the edges of her thoughts, nearly controlling her at some points. They stay with Lou, sometimes causing guilt, sometimes causing pain, sometimes just to remind Lou of the dandelions that used to sprout up in between cracks in the sidewalk.

The Journal that Maria gives Lou (after declaring them best friends forever), isn't technically a living character, but it may as well be. It's where Lou's thoughts reside. Where her fears and regrets and memories live so they don't have to live in her head. The journal is an extension of Lou, and the scariest thing she could think of is losing it, but the journal was never meant to stay against her chest for the rest of its life.

Anyhow, if you'd like to support some of my original work, I have a Ko-Fi! Covers are expensive as h e c k - But also, reblogs support me as well :D a chaotic way to spread the chaotic characters 'round these parts

#pizza feverdream. i. sincerely apologize for this response #but here you go [chucks all of my characters at you and runs]#me; staring at all my neurodivergent gay main characters: huh. no correlation there #but for real delilah and charlotte and taylor are absolutely different women. (lies. she's just desperate for that to be true :))#sometimes i'll write some lifl and then need to actively lay on the ground and hug a stuffed animal and cry #i always feel like i'm not doing lou enough justice and then i'm like ''girlie. you are doing fine i promise. it's okay. take a breath''#another fun fact about lou is that she's fucking terrified of horses #dana shows her the stables super early on and lou is like ''WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT'' and dana's like ''a horse?''#and lou is like ''WHY TF DO THEY MAKE THE NOISE. WHY ARE THEIR EYES STARING INTO MY SOUL. SIGN ME UN-UP''#anyway good times. i have soooo so many stories in my head. they consume all of my thoughts :)#ask me about my books at any time any place anywhere #i promise i will have multiple essays geared up ready to go at any given time kfdskjdfkj #in which vi thinks about writing #a penchant for the ordinary #paradigm #lou is for lavender

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catxtopia · 4 years

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Lips Of a Stranger} Chp. 10

Author: catxtopia

Ship: Billdip ((fluffy))

Characters: Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Bill Cipher, Gideon Gleeful

Summary: The Night Vale AU no one asked for.

Author notes: I am back on my bullshit, lets finish this.

Read: ao3

((HOHO Betcha thought you saw the last of me.

Four years late but hey I fricken finished this shit! I sat down literally yesterday after a kind person commented that they still wait for updates on this story (srsly so sorry and you're so sweet holly heck, never say comments don't totally motivate a writer) and finished this. I already had this chapter written many years ago but I didn't wanna post it until I finished the rest (so sorry for my dumb past self). So this one sounds pretty much the same as the rest of the story, however cannot confirm for the rest of the work.

I haven't written in ages, I don't particularly like writing anymore if I am being honest. I am not great at it but I have a lot of ideas lmao. So I just wanna preface that the ending... probably not great lol. I will have a full report on the last chapter, however, on my old ideas for this story and what I thought it could be. There is probably a lot of plot holes and unanswered things but I tried^^;;;

Anyways, I'll upload either every day or every other day depending. But this shall finally be finished lads! (also no beta, we're animals here)))

“You found it!?”

Lying still, yet menacingly, on the kitchen table was a maroon journal with a black number 1 inked firmly in the center. It was larger than an average book and much worse for wear, the red leather was ripped and mystery blotches were smudged in several different locations on the cover. Mabel and Dipper stood around the object that had been of desire for so long. Neither made a move to touch it, treating it like an old relic—which it very well could have been as far as Dipper knew.

“Yeah, it was in this wired compartment in a tree outside.” Dipper scratched lightly at his chin, eyes roaming over the book. His fingers itched with curiosity for he had yet to open and examine the contents inside. He wasn’t sure if he should, waiting for Cipher seemed like the logical option but that required calling the man, followed by seeing him again, and the thought of meeting gold eyes sent his stomach through all kinds of loops. Thus, his phone stayed promptly in his pocket where it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

“Compartment in a tree, huh?” Mabel repeated, a confused look crossing her face. She, too, moved her hand to rub lightly at her chin in thought. “How’d you come across that?”

Dipper stiffened ever so slightly, and then casted a glance at his intrigued sister. He cleared his throat and shifted to stuff his hands in his pockets roughly. “I just, ya know, fell against it.” He shrugged, trying his best to remain cool—which was, to say, impossible when it came to Dipper Pines.

“Fell against it, hm?” Mabel’s eyebrow slowly started rising.

“Yes, I fell against it!” Dipper sputtered, looking away towards the book again. “The details of how I found the book aren’t important. What is important is that I found it !”

Mabel stifled her giggles as much as her lips would allow. “Whatever you say, Bro bro.” She mused and leaned over the dusty object, intentionally ignoring the tomato that was now her brother beside her. He’d been through enough teasing this morning, she’d let him off the hook this once. “What do you thinks inside?”

Dipper leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “No idea.” He quietly thought back to the times he and Cipher were looking for said book. A distant memory of going to the junkyard and the words black magic and demons , danced in the back of his mind but he elected to ignore those warnings. If the book really was dangerous, there was no way Cipher would be looking for it. At least that’s what Dipper told himself.

“Are you going to open it?” Mabel quirked a brow, eyes not leaving the book.

Dipper shifted against the counter. “I don’t know, Mabes. Maybe we should wait for Cipher to open it first.”

Mabel pursed her lips and squinted at the book.

There was a long pause, the only sound being whispers from the TV playing in the other room. Then Mabel, with a big intake of breath, announced loudly: “I am gonna open it.” And quickly flipped the front cover open.

“Mabel!” Dipper yelped, but his words fell on deaf ears as the young girl turned another page, and then another. “Mabes, seriously, be careful with it! We don’t know what it is, it could be super old and crumble at human touch! Who knows what—”

As Dipper rambled on and on, Mabel’s quick movements tentatively began to slow. She flipped only one more page before stopping and taking in a soft gasp, voice riddled with distraught. “Oh my gosh.” She whispered breathlessly. Dipper paused in his ranting, staring at the back of his sister's head since he couldn’t see the book around her. “I can’t believe this.”

“What?” He inquired, a drop of unease plopping into the pits of his stomach. Mabel’s shoulders were tense; body rigged with what Dipper could only assume was fear. She looked as though she was witnessing a demon rise out from the pits of hell, or at the very least like her sweaters were being set aflame. And throughout it all, all Dipper could hear were McGucket’s warnings ringing loud and clear inside his jumbled head. “That books bad news I tell ya! Black magic, raising devils, kinda bad news! Nothin good ever came out of that thing.” Dipper cringed at the voice. “What is it?”

“It’s terrible…” Mabel whispered, leaning further over the book. Her hair draped over the yellowing pages, eyes hidden behind thick bangs. “Cipher, he’s…”

“What? What about Cipher?” Dipper stepped closer. He could feel his heart thump a little faster with each step he took towards his sister.

“He’s a…” The girl moved back, turning swiftly to face her brother. Her face was red and cheeks puffed out, eyes leaking frustrated tears and— “ He’s a giant nerd just like you!” She exclaimed dramatically, throwing one hand towards the opened journal and another over her stomach as she doubled over laughing.

Dipper stared, dumbfounded as his sister flopped onto the tabled to keep from falling onto the floor. She was wheezing and stomped a foot every so often, trying to regain her breathing. He couldn’t believe this. “Mabel.” Dipper squinted hard at the girl. The only answer he got was more laughing and a few arm flails. “Mabel, you jerk.” Dipper sighed, but a small smile was tugging at his lips.

“Oh! Oh!” Mabel giggled, laughter beginning to die out into soft gasps. “Oh my gosh, yo- your face!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dipper rolled his eyes. “You got me.” Behind his ribs, his heart was still pounding with adrenaline. He willed his limbs to stop their jittery shakes and calm the hell down. There was nothing to worry about, Mabel was just being her usual dork self. He looked towards the open book finally, now being able to get a good view of it. “So what’s in this thing, anyways?”

Having calmed down a bit, Mabel slipped across the kitchen in her fluffy pink socks, clamped onto the fridge handle and yanked it open to retrieve a can of Pit Cola. She juggled it in her hands, closing the door again with her hip. As she snapped the can open she explained lightly, “Looks like a dictionary for supernatural stuff to me. Really wired, it’s all hand written and stuff.” She paused and took a big gulp of her drink.

Dipper nodded and examined the scribbles and notes about different creatures. His eyes widened the further he flipped from page to page, completely entranced with the object sitting before him. It was no wonder Cipher wanted this thing, the stories he could produce with the book would be endless!

“This is amazing.” Dipper breathed. Gnomes, Zombies, Ghosts, this book was like a paranormal junkies Holy Grail.

Mabel hummed and jumped up onto the counter. “It makes sense why Cipher would want this. I am sure he will be happy you found it.” She mused, swinging her legs back and forth to the rhythm of a song stuck in her head. “Now you guys don’t have to go searching anymore! That’ll probably be a big nuisance off his shoulders.”

Dipper hummed absentmindedly as he drew his finger along the edge of the book, a thin layer of dust bunched up and latched onto his finger. He pulled his hand back, pinching the ball of dirt between his thumb and index finger till the grains rolled off his skin. He wondered briefly how long the book had been in that tree for, and for what reason.

“No more long hours trekking through stores and the occasional dumpster. I wonder if this old thing will help him with his work, or if that’s even what he wanted it for.” Mabel muttered against the rim of her soda can.

Dipper’s fingers instantly stilled, entire body freezing like someone had pushed a pause button on the boy’s life. No more long hours trekking through stores and the occasional dumpster . The words bounced around in his head several times and every repeat left a horrible taste in his mouth. He gulped and dropped his hand, brushing it harshly against his faded jeans. “Yeah, don’t know.” He bit out.

A minute ago he’d been excited to see Cipher’s reaction to his discovery, because damn it he was proud! And maybe boasting a little in the ego department. Now dread was filling up his core. No more time with Cipher…

Mabel slurped at her drink loudly, oblivious to the way her brother scooped up the book with a hesitant hand. “So, when are you gonna tell him?” She looked up past her wavy bangs, confused to find Dipper retreating towards the stairs at a quick pace. “Dipper?”

.:.:.

Dipper paced along the length of his bedroom, feet scuffing against the hardwood floor. He could practically feel the wood splintering away with each step he took. It was only a matter of time before he’d run a rut in the floor. He could hardly bring himself to care; however, as he gnawed at his thumbnail in a simple attempt to help distract his brain.

This was stupid, Dipper was stupid. He could hardly believe he was even thinking about the train of thought that he was. Not telling Cipher about the book? What kind of nonsense was that? He had to; it was his moral duty to give up the journal to the radio host. Otherwise, everything they’d done together thus far would be for nothing. The whole reason Dipper was being kept around was for the sole purpose of finding the book.

And once you give the book up, you won’t have a reason to be around Cipher anymore , Dipper thought sullenly. He turned once he paced as far as he could towards the door, changing direction to continue shuffling back the route he came towards the triangle window above his bed. It was a vicious cycle, this back and forth, back and forth. All the while he kept his eyes glued on the ground. He paused when his irises caught sight of a neatly folded pile of clothes at the end of his bed. Black jacket, pants, yellow scarf… A flash of blonde hair and the feel of rough bark against his back blurred past his eyes.

There would probably be no more of that once he gave up the book. Dipper lightly drew a finger against his chapped lips. If he thought hard enough he could still feel the pressure Cipher’s smooth lips had left against his own.

“Oh man.” Dipper mumbled aloud. Here he was worrying over some scraps of paper sewn together, while he should be questioning the fluttering in his chest from earlier interactions.

Cipher had kissed him and he’d be lying if he didn’t say he thoroughly enjoyed it. Both Mabel and Pacifica will be delighted to rub it in his face once they find out.

Dipper dropped onto his bed with a frustrated groan. Everything was happening all so suddenly, so fast he couldn’t make left or right of the images flashing before his eyes. And it was all because of that darn radio host with his perfect golden hair and otherworldly eyes. Not to mention his lean body that fit so right against Dipper’s the night before, warm like a blanket and oh so comfortable… Dipper shook his head quickly, expelling any further thoughts of Cipher’s body.

Really, Cipher was too handsome for his own good. It was practically supernatural.

Dipper snorted at the thought and fell back against the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, a soft sigh fluttering past his lips. What to do, what to do. He slid his hands up to rest on his chest and began tapping his fingers against his worn shirt.

“So you tell him.” Dipper muttered to himself. “You tell him about the book. It’ll make him happy, probably further his show somehow and bring in more listeners, which will make his work life better.” His fingers paused in their tapping, then slowly started picking up a rhythm again as he let another thought enter his mind. “Or you don’t tell him, you continue looking for the book as if you haven’t already found it and grow closer. Eventually he’ll forget about the book and move on, which will make his personal life better.”

“You don’t tell him and possibly ruin his career .” A voice that sounded eerily similar to Mabel’s rumbled in the back on his head. Ah, the voice of reason. It was bound to come poking its ugly face in here eventually.

“I don’t necessarily know if it’s for his show.” Dipper grumbled, sinking a little further against his bed. Great now he was talking to himself.

“What else would he need it so badly for?”

“I don’t know, curiosity? For a collection, maybe? His life revolves around the supernatural; it’s not that farfetched to want a journal filled on the subject.”

“So you’d rather keep the object of his desire away from him, in the hopes you become that object for him instead. That’s quite selfish.”

“Well no one asked you.” Dipper huffed and rolled onto his side. He stared aimlessly out the triangular window nearby. The sun had already begun to drip close to the tree line, casting an array of colors throughout his room. It was beautiful, really, all oranges and reds, and the occasional pink glow scattering across the shack's rustic interior. His eyes followed the colorful trail of light right back to the pile of clothes at the end of his bed. He stared at the yellow scarf for a long while before he worked up the strength to reach for it.

The fabric was so soft, softer than anything he’d felt before. It was probably really expensive. Dipper tugged the material fully into his palms and laid back down. He held onto the scarf like a blanket, running the pads of his fingers over the kind stitching. “Maybe he won’t leave once he has the book.” Dipper thought aloud once again. He was starting to make a habit out of talking to himself apparently.

It wasn’t like he wanted to keep information from Cipher, especially news that’d make him happy. The paranoia engraved deep in his soul that the man would eventually forget about him if they had no reason to be around each other was just too overpowering. Even though there was a good chance Cipher liked hanging around Dipper for Dipper and not just for his searching skills. It was a big chance, honestly. You don’t just kiss someone you plan on ditching. Cipher seemed like a better person than that, anyways.

But doubt was always louder than hope.

With a quick glance at the clock—which already read 5:10PM—Dipper decided he’d allow himself to sleep on it. It was already late so there was no use calling up Cipher now; he wouldn’t be able to come by until tomorrow anyways.

Settling on that, Dipper rolled over and closed his eyes. Super wouldn’t be ready for another hour or so and a nap sounded like a pleasant idea in the meantime.

.:.:.

Three days.

It’d been three days since Dipper found the old journal hidden in a tree. The journal, which a certain radio host had yet to know, was within Dipper’s possession. It had been shamefully tucked away in the brunet’s desk under a pile of scrap papers. It wasn’t the greatest hiding spot by any means, but Dipper didn’t feel comfortable leaving the relic under his bed or somewhere in his closet. At least in his desk, the book didn’t face any chances of getting ruined.

He stuck the poor book in the bottom drawer with the intention of returning to it in a week – because a night to sleep on deciding to give the book to Cipher just wasn’t enough. He simply wanted a little more time with the radio host to assure he wouldn’t ditch him. That was reason enough, right? In one week time, the book would be given to the blonde man. Until then, Dipper proclaimed he’d live with the guilt and enjoy some downtime with the host.

And what a glorious three days it had been so far. Cipher had been spending a large majority of the days hanging around Dipper’s work again. They’d continued their little routine, but the silence was filled with a lot more bashful glances and sly smiles. The kiss hadn’t been officially mentioned, but the implication that both of them equally enjoyed it and wouldn’t mind doing it again was pretty clearly expressed.

When Dipper wasn’t shackled to his job at the bookstore – and Cipher by extension – they usually ended up spending time around town or the radio station. Very rarely were they away from each other’s side. Not that either was complaining. However, every so often when Dipper would glance Cipher’s way, he’d feel a ball of guilt nibbling away at the core of his stomach. He couldn’t help thinking about the things he was hiding from the man. It didn’t feel right, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.

“Do you like your job?”

Cipher blinked open his eyes and tilted his head a little towards the brunet lying somberly beside him. They’d been lying outside on a patch of drying grass a short ways from the radio station, simply enjoying the last few drops of autumn. The sun was high above them, basking them in a nice enough warmth that they only needed light jackets. Cipher was currently wearing the sweatshirt he had borrowed from Dipper a few days prior, having yet to give it up. Not that Dipper really cared, he felt slightly prideful seeing the radio host wearing something of his.

Cipher shifted his arms, which lay beneath his head. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He looked back towards the calm blue sky. “It’s fun, I like being able to talk about whatever the hell I want for a living. I am not the biggest fan of having to hide behind a curtain all the time, but it comes with the job.”

Dipper hummed, mulling over that information. He flicked his fingers against the zipper on his jacket. “Why do you have to be so secretive? I doubt anyone would like… attack you or something if they knew who you were.”

Cipher chuckled and turned on his side, arm bent and hand holding up his head. Dipper moved in a similar fashion so that they both faced each other. “There are a few reasons. Gideon thinks having me be unnamed makes me more mysterious, that not only the show holds secrets but even the host does.” He shrugged. “Plus, I like being able to live my life without interruptions. I would get annoyed pretty quickly if people were stopping me on the streets or spewing nonsense about me in teen magazines.”

Dipper twirled his fingers around a few blades of grass, tugging them lazily as he listened. “And here I thought you liked attention.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I do! I would love people bending at my every need, but I have standards. I wouldn’t be able to sit here with you like this if I was open about my identity, and that’s not something I am quite willing to give up.”

“I guess that… makes sense.” Dipper pondered. “So you’re a man full of secrets then?”

“I am a man with many angles and lots of knowledge of various topics, who happens to also like having a private life, so if that makes me secretive then I guess I am. However, since I like you I’ll tell you my secrets,” Cipher leaned forward, lips curving into a seductive smirk. “for a price~”

Dipper’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, “Oh really? And what’s your price, Cipher?” He mused, putting up his best confident front.

“Hmmm,” Cipher’s eyes flickered from Dipper’s eyes to his lips then quickly back again. “I don’t know, it’d probably have to be something really pricey since I’ve got a lot of secrets.”

Dipper snorted and rolled his eyes, “What like my soul?” He joked and playfully wiggled his eyebrows.

If one were to have blinked in that moment they probably would have missed the way Cipher’s eyes widened and sparked with wonder for a fraction of a second. He continued to smirk at his companion before rolling onto his back to stare up at the sky once again. “Something like that.” He hummed pleasantly. “I am sure your soul would be a beauty.”

Dipper scoffed and flopped over onto his stomach, arms crossing beneath his chin. He closed his eyes and snuggled a little deeper in his jacket. “Don’t all souls look the same? Like a smoking white ball.”

“I think you’ve been playing too many video games.” Cipher flicked at the edge of Dipper’s ear, earning a small yelp and glare from the boy. “Souls come in all colors and shapes, kid. The more corrupted the soul, the worse it looks. What the world considers ‘sinners’ usually look black, less smoky, more goopy. Like a ball of hot, bubbling tar. While good people are bright, wispy, and usually emit a color.”

“You seem to know a lot about this.” Dipper mumbled into the curve of his arm.

Cipher chuckled under his breath. “Call it a passion of mine.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence after that, lying happily beside each other with only the whispers of wind and occasional tweet of a bird filling the silence. They lay close enough that their arms brushed and with a little maneuvering their hands slipped into each other without question.

It was nice, being able to be together like this without any distractions. To simply enjoy each other’s company. Dipper really didn’t want to let this go, and yet as he peeked past his bangs at the still figure beside him, he knew that he would.

“Hey, Cipher.” Dipper said just barely above a whisper. He watched the blonde’s eyebrow twitch but his eyes remained closed.

“Hm?”

“I gotta tell you something, it’s kind of important, it’s about the b—”

Just as the words were about to flutter out of his mouth, a shrill ring of a phone smacked Dipper’s train of thought straight from his head. His lips latched shut and eyes looked down at Cipher’s glowing pocket, which the man was quickly moving to reach.

He flicked the device on and squinted at the screen as if it had personally offended him. Whether that was because it had interrupted Dipper or not, the boy wasn’t sure.

“Sorry, just an email.” Cipher’s expression lightened considerably as he turned the screen to face Dipper. “Look at this cat jumping in and out of boxes! Giffy sent it. Cats are so silly!”

True to his word, there was a cat hopping into different sized boxes with a small message from Giffany at the bottom of the screen. Dipper smiled softly at the ridiculous video. Of course Cipher would find cat videos funny, what doesn’t he find funny? Dipper thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that, nope, Cipher could get a kick out of anything.

As he watched the video play through, Dipper couldn’t help his eyes wandering to the corner of the screen where a list of information sat. At the top of the list was a name, one that had Dipper’s heart stalling. “Uh.” The boy muttered very intelligently.

Cipher tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brows at Dipper’s odd expression. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t find cat videos funny. Cause I don’t think this relationship can work if—”

“Bill?”

#it's done bby #two more chaps #shall update tomorrow #billdip #my writing #lips of a stranger #billdip fic #fanfiction #fic

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really-bad-arsonist · 6 years

Note

-slides into ur ask box- do you have any hcs for Anarky, aka Lonnie Machin, aka my BOY

I actually haven’t put a lot of though into Lonnie headcanons, and I’ll be sure to make a better list at some point! Here’s some while I was sitting here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- Lonnies a low key adrenaline junkie. Whether it’s scaling a building to do some street art without a harness or just stupid stuff like a rollercoaster or horror movie, Lonnie is always down

- When he isn’t trying to destabilize governments or purify cities, he loves videogames, painting, and just doing normal teenage shit

- Basing it off of the art in his hideout in AK Origins, he’s a damn good artist. He uses it to make statements sometimes, leaving street tags, paintings, and vandalizing capitalist advertisements to make his points

-He has one of the biggest and most dedicated followings of any rogue. He’s a metaphorical, and physical voice of the people in Gotham. Though his means are violent and less agreeable, the people of Gotham can’t deny that what he stands for and preaches is true.

- He’s actually considered a high threat terrorist to the government regardless of his petty crimes and actions in Gotham. What he stands for is a threat that they’re too afraid to poke and prod at

- He acts way older than he is. Most people and rogues have no idea that he’s actually only 17, but a few that have worked with him have figured out he was on the younger side.

- Some of the older rogues tend to discreetly look out for him, whether its generous donations of money to fund his projects or providing arms/hired muscle, there’s usually someone looking out for him

- Not a lot can get to him. The only thing that really bothers him is not being taken seriously based on his age, or being called a child. People learned their lesson pretty fast with that one

- He isn’t a huge fan of directly killing someone; it’s been done yes but he prefers other means of subduing someone like a taser. That being said, he has a merciless disregard of human life as long as it contributes to his cause and he doesn’t have to do it himself. He will do anything including explode buildings, people or not as long as its for his goal

- Incredibly driven, will do anything for his cause. God help anyone who stands between him and his goals

- The biggest feminist/equalist you will ever meet.

- The ultimate king of vandalism. Between his skills and his inability to be caught, no billboard stands a chance

- He spends literal hours preaching political stuff, rants and general opinions as we all know

- In fact, almost every conversation is probably about politics of some sort

- Surprising capacity for hatred (especially for Batman). He’s like a chihuahua, a lot of anger and hate can fit into tiny boy

- In fact, he doesn’t get along well with anyone in the batfam. He can tolerate/get along pretty well with Batgirl/Oracle. Every now and then he’ll hack into her systems and send her a link to some stupid shit. She lets him hack them of course. When Joker shot her, he visited her in the hospital once.

- 17 year old or not, some of the rogues actual do harbor (appropriate) fear for the newer rogue. He has been known to double cross rogues who go against his purpose and get between him and his goals

- He probably has a facebook or twitter account where he fights people in the comment section about his beliefs

- He isn’t super strong or advanced when it comes to physical abilities/fighting but he can out do most people with his technological skills and his dedicated following

- The rogue that dislikes him the most would be Penguin. Oswald is the dictionary definition of everything Lonnie’s against. He does his best to suck up to him, but he knows one of these days Anarky is gonna be done with his bullshit. Batman can throw Penguin into jail sure, but Anarky could take down Penguins entire operation if he wanted to and he knows it.

- When it comes to the Rogues he has a clear preference for Drury Walker and Harvey Dent. Drury because he’s on a friendly basis with him and he’s something of a big brother figure to him (his crispy boyfriend is okay too; too crude for Lonnies tastes) and Harvey because despite him being an asshat and being one of the people who ‘plague’ gotham, he is fair and equal.

- Ironically he has a grudging respect for Bruce Wayne. He’s a businessman, but he’s an ethically good one.

- Despite his lack of intimidating nature and his attempts to try not to take life for no reason, he’s violent when it comes to his beliefs. He punishes certain criminals more than Batman ever could dream of.

- In a perfect world, he would have loved to go to school for bioengineering or biotechnology

- He doesn’t really do the whole dating thing. Maybe if things were better or more settled, but with how much he moves around and what he does he tries to stay away from it. That being said, he’s as open and equal with his preferences as he is with everything. He has no preferences.

- He once ran two miles to catch the ice cream truck

- And also told batman off for not involving Barbara/Oracle in enough things

- He’s really good at sassing someone without them even knowing until they think about it

- Thinks the public school system is shit but he still finished highschool

- He once flipped Red-Hood off and earned enough of Jasons respect for him to go easy on him

- Each of his safehouses is littered with air mattresses for people who works for him that don’t have homes or places to stay overnight

- He’s a total sweetheart personality wise. He was just lead on the wrong path and had a rough upbringing in an equally rough city

- Dog person don’t @ me

#lonnie machin #anarky #anarky headcanons #dc #headcanons

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lost-in-transition · 6 years

Text

short story: deathclocked

CN: This is something new for the blog, a piece of actual fiction. I was inspired. I am not actually a blonde ex-Polish trans hitwoman.

I strike at his throat with knuckled fist. I move the arm up to block, programming the motion before even it has a chance to happen. I'll also step aside and put my knee between his legs. Then either head butt him or bring my elbow down in his face. I don't know yet. As a child, I never ever fought. The thought of striking back was worse. It would have made me like them, and even then I knew I feared that. Better to run away, or else to let them. They wanted me to strike back, I know that now. If I had, they would have known I was like them, and we would have been friends. And I would have been something worse than being the nothing that I was. In a sense, they were so persistent because they were concerned for me, and perhaps scared as well - my existence as an oddity raised the potential things could have been different for them, too. We all fear the thought we might not be who and what we need to be, and it drives hatred of the strange all too often.

Ironic then that now I fight so effortlessly. It does not feel like aggression. It feels like stretching out. It feels like singing out loud. I miss that very much, but as time went by, it became less and less comfortable to hear myself, especially resonating in skull. Practicing martial arts, any kind, feels freeing. I feel present and moving and unbound by everything else. I decide my movement beforehand and execute it. If I am struck, I will be hurt, and accepting that makes it something I am not afraid of. In the training ring I don't feel or express anger, and my training mates accept that. When I fight for real, like now, they don't expect me to strike. In some ways, that is the point. It is because they don't expect it that I feel at peace being the one initiating. And ending it.

The man in front of me, I think of him as Boss Man, he wears sports gear slick enough for clubbing and laid back enough no-one will think he is gay or anything. God forbid. Sweatpants showing boxers. Tattoos, expensive wrist watch. He didn't have to queue to get into this club, which already sets him apart from 999 of 1000 people anywhere. There are several ways in which each of us stand out so. He and I share some, including, for me in recent years at least, spending significant time in the company of organized criminals. Boss Man is a criminal organizer, and I can only imagine this is why he passed the doorman directly whereas I stood in line. This place started as a gay club and in many ways still is, men give each other blow jobs among the smoky labyrinths that are the chill out area, the beat of a DJ I don't recognize but do like there in the background like a storm. Boss Man is the type of the leather bear doorman no more than I am in my skimpy sundress, but either he has the money or the fear capital from being a known gang leader that he gets in anyway. Even so, he still passes through the coat check, which means he has no weapon tonight and no body armour. Otherwise typically he does, and this is why I planned to take him down in here tonight. I too am unarmed, but as I now set out to demonstrate, this need not mean much.

I got close enough in the otherwise empty passage, so that first strike goes fine. He staggers, but he's been boxing; now he goes back and into something like stance. He'll strike next. Or will he? He backs up and stares at me. I followed him in here, when he was going to snort or inject I assume, or make a phone call. But when I did, he leered at me, smiling as I approached. Maybe he had not expected to, but he was fine with it, up until the point where I struck. There's enough of a code that he saw my following him as safe. It's what a girl would do if she was aware of his status and wanted him to share something of his - drugs, kisses, cock, recognition in some circles, though I don't know exactly which one. This city has several separate gang environments and they are not all hanging out. "My" criminals are part of other networks than his are. More to the point, "my" criminals live in little circles of salt surrounding a few people who also post on TOR-accessible truly anonymous forums.

Boss Man is an awful person. I know this because I read some of the police reports on things that happened with some girls who spent some time with him. None went to trial, and a few years back they stopped coming because none of them would risk filing one. This isn't why I'm here seeking him out. I'm not a vigilante, I just checked that before I decided to pursue the contract on him. Back in the old days, there were brokers who could connect clients and contract killers anonymously, for a cut. Apparently. They still exist, now they too are on the dark net. It works like a betting service, using crypto currencies and everything. Someone puts out a contract on a mark by anonymously depositing the prize with the broker. The broker verifies the money is legit and makes a bet on when the mark will die. Whoever comes closest wins the money, also anonymously. In theory someone could "kill steal" if they witness a contract killing, but the system works well enough. I was spending a lot of time on the dark web.

This also means that in principle a mark can know there's a contract on them. But in reality, most people where some shadowy figure want them dead will be just like Boss Man, a career criminal who is not all that computer savvy but rather very invested in his offline social network. I have no idea who wants him dead, I just looked into him enough to see if it was at all possible, and also on whether he has any redeeming traits that would make me feel guilty for it. I've cashed in contracts on people who were not gangsters too, some domestic abusers mostly. Still no idea on the client. Boss Man is just always paranoid, when on the streets he has a gun. His driver keeps that for him now I guess. If I guess closest for when he's dead, that's about 40K worth of bitcoins. The call was out for six months already. So either there aren't so many assassins around who'd take it, or some did and failed for whatever reason. I've tried and given up with several marks, sometimes others got them later. No idea on which other, either. I don't think I know any other contract killers, but then again, would I even know?

The thought strikes me that I should make a smartwatch app that bets on my time of death should my pulse stop, in case I find anyone contracting me. That way at least my death can be my own kill. But honestly, if my actual identity ended up there, something already is wrong. No one should know who I am. Heh. They'd have to use my deadname, since the road to a legal name change in my country of citizenship is... long. How fucking appropriate. Ha ha. Like cancer, fun for the whole family. I literally would have to sue my parents, which means I'd have to meet them again. It's been seven years now. They're still around in Krakow, I know, and my little brother hasn't moved out yet. He and I still talk every now and then. I wonder how he's going to make it.

Boss Man isn't going to shout, is he? Not that it makes all that much difference in this loud environment. No. He needs to do this himself or he'll lose face. He stares at me incredulously, already pretty coked up I guess, and leaps at me, all 95 kilo of muscle and bone and Axe bodyspray. I'm in the motion, I sidestep and rotate. Detachedly, I wonder again what precisely is wrong with me. I don't think I'm a sociopath. Is that even possible for me? If I were then surely I wouldn't have all these social anxieties, or feelings of inadequacy, and I wouldn't end up crying over youtube clips where little ugly fruits find other little ugly fruit friends. I do have empathy, for all that everyone tried to grind it out of me, growing up. I couldn't cry for years and years, it took me doubling the recommended dosage to get there finally. Now, it's not so much a matter on if something will make me cry, but when. I used to simply be unable. Now I cannot decide the "if", but I can delay it if I have to. There has to be something that I'm processing here though, it can't be just for the money. Maybe I'm processing my feelings of being an outsider by ensuring I must always be, that there is (yet another?) thing in my life that no-one ever will understand? Some sort of reaction formation? Or am I an adrenaline junkie?

"What the... fucking bitch! Fucking cunt!" he exclaims, slamming against the wall. I swing my fist at the back of Boss Man's head but he's already turned back and lifted a meaty arm for blocking. He has a tattoo of an eagle. He's in stance now. No more surprises.

He stares at me. With a sickening dread my guts recognize that look before my brain does. I shiver. He blinks. "What the fuck? You're a fucking man in a dress? A fucking tranny faggot?" Boss Man laughs. "That's why you fight like that. No fucking real girl could land a hit like that on me! Fuck! I can see it now, look at you, full of makeup and shit. But you've got balls, right? Show me you've got balls, man!" He takes fighting stance again, like he's challenging me. He smiles like a maniac. I'm staggering. It's like I'm split in two pictures like with those old 3D images, floating in different directions, none of them me. I can't sense my body, but it's like I see it from the outside. Tall, flat-chested. Tuck isn't perfect, is it? And I'm blonde, so plenty of electrolysis left before any kind of smoothness. Would any cis woman do contract killings like this? He's implying that, isn't he? That only someone incurably steeped in toxic masculinity would be a... a... hitman.

This is so dangerous, I know it. It feels like those times after meeting that support group when I couldn't stop idly thinking as the train approached the platform that it would be so easy to solve everything by just stepping in front. One part of me is deep in, one is detached. Neither really cares how this goes, right now. Am I angry with him? No way to tell. The important thing is, how dangerous to my beliefs about my identity are these implications? And are those just beliefs? He clocked me in a dark club corridor without me even speaking, so that horrible voice I have isn't it. What's wrong with me? I feel like I'm already dead. A waterlogged corpse having rotted, the bones move through soft flesh-mud. I freeze.

Boss man knocks me over and I feel a sharp pain as I hit the floor. Only luck it was not head first. Then again, if that damn head with it's fucking brow ridge and big nose cracked like a melon, then it would be over. He's on top of me. "What the fuck is this about, you little faggot? Huh? Did you really think you could fool me, you fucking ugly little cocksucker bitch?" I know it's over. I won't have to worry again on whether I'm actually just a sad, misandrist failure of a man, someone who still ticks off all the boxes of male stereotype and socialization. It'll be like with the train. Eventually it will all be over. Pain for a while. But only one outcome. It will be over.

He puts his hand on my left breast and there's another look of surprise on his face. Then his mouth is at the side of my neck. I feel rough, raspy stubble and smell the sour musk of his sweat and breath. He bites my neck hard and grunts. I feel his cock quickly growing hard against my thigh. Another rough hand moves up my thigh. He has to make sure now. The smell, I can't let it go. I remember my old training clothes. Four years ago? Before HRT. I used to smell like this. There is sausage on his breath, and beer. The stubble. When my hands had eczemas because I didn't moisturize, and they itched, I would scratch them against the stubble of the cheek of the body that I was in. The skin would eventually blister and bleed and get sticky, and it would hurt more and longer.

That's not me anymore.

That's who he is. I'm different. I always was. That never was me. That surface was no-one. I'm the will to motion. I'm the choice I made. I am me.

Boss Man isn't holding my hands in place because he's too busy groping at my tuck. So I press them against the veins at the side of the neck, holding and twisting as if I was opening a jar of pickles. I hear his neck snap, and slowly he goes limp on top of me. My head is spinning and for a moment I forget who I am, where I am, what I am. There is only the naked tube lights of the ceiling high above and the graffiti on the concrete walls. My back hurts.

I turn to get him off me. I squeeze his neck again to be sure, check the pupils. I kick Boss Man in the side of the head, first gingerly, carefully. Then again, harder. Again. A dozen times, with the hard toes of my pumps. I take out the phone, choose the camera settings to ensure there is a time stamp watermark as well as a GPS watermark. Then I remember. I have to remove the little coloured sticker they put over the camera lenses on your phone in this club. Check. Filter settings. Check. I upload an image of Boss Man's vacant gaze as he lies there to the server, through the TOR client app. It's done.

I hurry down to the bathroom, one floor down. I shy away from the mirror image because I can already guess what it would show, and I go in to hide in a stall. I lock the door carefully. Then I let the tears come.

#fiction #short story #slice_of_other_life #unedited #creative_writing #write_what_you_almost_know

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thisdaynews · 5 years

Text

Katherine Legge: The woman who ‘had to fight and claw' her way into motorsport

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/katherine-legge-the-woman-who-had-to-fight-and-claw-her-way-into-motorsport/

Katherine Legge: The woman who ‘had to fight and claw' her way into motorsport

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The car doesn’t know the difference between male and female drivers – Legge

In the reception of a nondescript Northampton office block, a young woman sits and waits. It’s a rare moment of quiet for someone used to the thrilling speed of the racing track.

The woman is Katherine Legge, the year is 2004 and the office is the UK headquarters of Cosworth. Legge is, in her own words, “stalking” Kevin Kalkhoven, Cosworth boss and owner of the United States’ biggest racing franchises: Indy Car, Champ Car and Atlantic Series.

At 23 years old and with almost 15 years of driving behind her, Legge had run out of money and was struggling for sponsorship. She feared her dream of being a racing driver was coming to an end.

She was refusing to leave – until she got a meeting with Kalkhoven – so Kalkhoven sent his daughter Kirsty out to get rid of her. After a short conversation Kirsty went back to her father and said: “You ought to meet this person, there’s something different about her.”

In a sport where fine margins and money make the wheels go round, this was Legge’s sliding doors moment. Kalkhoven offered her a chance to compete in the first three races of the Atlantic Series that season.

Looking back now Legge says: “That was the first time I’ve driven a car full-time in anything. It was the first time I’d had such a big, heavy, powerful car. The first race was Long Beach and I won that.”

Victory in her debut race. She would go on to win three of her first six races that season. As she says now: “The rest is history, and I think the moral of the story is tenacity.”

Legge on the starting grid early in her go-karting days

Legge’s journey into racing started almost by chance. After seeing an advert in the local paper for a go-kart track near her home in Guildford, the self-described tomboy and adrenaline junkie nagged her father Derek to take her. Eventually he relented, and her obsession with motorsport began.

“I just loved it,” she says. “The first race I won, I was nine years old. They give you the flag to carry and I wasn’t strong enough to carry it!”

Her pace, however, was not in doubt. She progressed through the same ranks as many Formula 1 hopefuls, coming up against young talents such as Jenson Button and Lewis Hamilton and, on occasion, beating them.

Legge was making a name for herself, but the idea of forging a career in the sport seemed a distant dream. “I didn’t know I was going to be a racing driver. I didn’t even know that it was possible because at that time there really weren’t any females doing it.”

She looked for inspiration outside of motorsport.

“Ellen MacArthur – do you remember how she used sail around the world single-handed? I looked up to people like that and I thought if they can do that then I can be a race car driver.”

But the further she progressed, the harder it became to find funding. She was beginning to realise how much of a challenge it was just to make it into the car.

“I wasn’t one of these people who had a rich family and was handed it on a plate, but I’m also grateful for that in a way because I think if it’s easy, then you don’t want it as much.

“I don’t know many people have driven the variety of things that I’ve driven, but then I had to fight and claw my way through racing, so I took every opportunity that was thrown my way.”

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Katherine Legge crashes at Road America 2006

When Legge was breaking through, motorsport’s land of opportunity was the USA, and it was there her career took off. But chasing the highs of motorsport brings huge risks.

In 2006, she was racing at Road America in Wisconsin when a mechanical failure caused her to lose control entering a 180mph corner. The force of the crash caused her car to disintegrate in dramatic fashion.

Her dad, who rarely misses a race, was watching, gripped by fear.

“I’m not religious, but I was just praying to any god that would listen that Katherine would just be alive,” he says.

Derek hasn’t spoken to the media about the accident since it happened, and his voice breaks as he recalls it.

“I thought she’d died…”

It took 15 minutes for him to discover that not only had his daughter survived, but she had somehow emerged with only bruises.

“It was one of the worst moments of my life and one of the best moments of my life. Literally within 15 minutes I was down in the depths and then elated.”

As for Legge, she said she would have finished the race if she could.

“It didn’t faze Katherine at all. She’s wired differently,” Derek says with a knowing smile.

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‘Wear a sports bra’: A lap of Daytona with Katherine Legge

That 2006 crash had followed an uncertain time in Legge’s career. She had tested a Minardi F1 car the year before, but a shot at an F1 drive never materialised despite her ambition to race in the world’s most popular racing category.

Instead Legge’s is a career that reflects her assertion of having to fight for drives throughout motorsport – touring the world in search of work, a freelance racer for hire.

She competed in the German ‘DTM’ touring car championships from 2008 for two years, then spent two more years racing in the US Indycar series, taking part in the famous Indy 500 race. The following year saw her compete in the ever-more popular Formula E electric racing series – and a stint in the American Nascar series came in 2018.

But none has yielded the kind of success her early career suggested.

Fast-forward to January 2019 and Legge, 38, is lining up on the the grid for the iconic and gruelling 24 Hours of Daytona endurance race.

It’s an event she knows well having finished second in her class in 2018, but this year there is extra scrutiny. She is the lead driver in a ground-breaking all-female team.

“So far it’s been received by everybody really well because it’s being taken seriously. We have the best female drivers in the world. It’s not a gimmick. We’ve got a legitimate shot of winning.”

Legge was instrumental in recruiting Brazil’s Bia Figueiredo, Swiss driver Simona de Silvestro and Denmark’s Christina Nielsen to the line-up. All “bad-ass women”, according to Nielsen.

However, none of this would have been possible without the persistence of Jackie Heinricher, a former US Air Force Medic and successful businesswoman whose name shines proudly from the car they’ll be racing in.

As Heinricher runs her hand over the bonnet she says: “It’s an amazing feeling. We’ve worked for years to bring this whole effort together.

“Sponsorship is probably the hardest thing you can get in any sport let alone racing and let alone women. The door was slammed on me over and over for two years. This makes me feel like all that time paid off.”

The race begins well enough for the team, the first all-female line-up here since 1994.

For the first two stints of the race, driven by Figueredo and Nielsen, the team hold their own in a field that includes several former F1 stars and a sister team car driven by men.

Then comes Legge’s chance to shine. Considered the team captain for her experience and leadership off the track, she hauls the car up six places as night falls and fatigue begins to set in for all teams.

And then, drama. Legge tangles with one of the lead ‘prototype’ cars, sending them both on to the grass. Having lost several positions in the spin, a fired-up Legge claws her way up to third by the time she hands the car over to De Silvestro, wowing fans and commentators with her skill and determination.

Another milestone for the Daytona 24 changes everything. Halfway through the race – in the dead of night – torrential rain arrives, putting out the fans’ campsite fires and many teams’ hopes. For the first time in history the race is under threat of being ended early because of conditions.

Legge senses her chance to seize the initiative again. But this time her willingness to risk everything is punished.

Her car brushes the wall at speed, breaking the suspension and forcing Legge to limp back to the pits.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” comes the question over team radio, as mechanics frantically try to fix the damage. “I’m sorry,” is all an emotional Legge can muster in response.

The race is eventually called off around 10 minutes earlier than scheduled, and the team finishes 15th in their class.

“It hurts, but we gave it everything,” says Legge. “Once you’re done there’s nothing you can do. But we’ll keep fighting – we’ll never give up.”

Caterpillar Acura racing Daytona 24 Hours 2019: (l-r) Ana ‘Bia’ Beatriz Figueiredo, Katherine Legge, Simona de Silvestro, Christina Nielsen and Jackie Heinricher

It’s not difficult to find evidence of women attempting to blaze a trail in motorsport history. It’s just that each time a pioneer puts on a helmet, after the initial wave of publicity fades, so does the trail being blazed.

The presence of women in the cockpit began as early as the late 1920s, when Helle Nice drove in several races, including for an all-female team.

But only two women have actually contested a race in F1’s 69-year history. Maria Teresa de Filippis drove a Maserati during three grands prix in 1958, and Lella Lombardi qualified for 12 races across 1975 and 1976, with a highest finish of sixth at the 1975 Spanish Grand Prix.

Several more have competed outside F1. One of the most high-profile female drivers away from the F1 paddock was rally star Michele Mouton, who won four World Championship rallies and was runner-up in the World Championship during the 1982 season for the all-conquering Audi team.

Mouton, arguably, provided the greatest inspiration for women in motorsport during her 12 years as a driver, and it’s a cause she has picked up again as head of the women in motorsport commission for the FIA, the sport’s governing body.

“It’s a pity we don’t have more female drivers, and it’s hard to tell what the targets are – we have to wait and see,” says Mouton.

“But we have initiatives in place to be working on the grassroots. It’s a difficult time for women in motorsport but we must increase the numbers at the bottom of the pyramid.

“There was no problem with sexism when I was in competition. Women need the passion – they need to be motivated.”

But is there a lack of wider support? Has modern-day sexism caused this shortfall?

The new all-women W Series can be viewed as a positive step to provide a platform for women in the sport, but it is not endorsed by the FIA, and for Legge the jury’s out.

“I think part of me is against it because I think you have to race against the best. So, in a way, I think it’s putting the spotlight on women in a negative connotation. Why segregate us? It’s one of the sports where men and women can compete on equal footing. So I think it’s a step backwards in that respect.

“Then I think, well, if I didn’t have the money and I wanted to go into racing and they’re offering this big purse, and then maybe if you shone there then you would get the opportunity that you wouldn’t have had necessarily… I can see that, too. It’s ‘tbc’ in my mind.”

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Inside the Caterpillar GTD car with Katherine Legge

While Formula 1 is under new ownership which moved quickly to remove the ‘grid girls’ in favour of a more progressive side, some fear there not enough is being done to promote women drivers.

Despite Susie Wolff taking part in two practice sessions for Williams in 2014, Helmut Marko, a senior figure at the Red Bull team, recently said the “huge physical demands are maybe too difficult and too strenuous for women”.

Two-time F1 champion Fernando Alonso believes women have been under-served until now, and says there is still work to do to establish a more permanent presence.

“There’s no reason why women could not succeed in Formula 1 or motorsport in general, and there are more and more coming. I think in future it will balance much more than we see now and that’s what we all hope.

“[Katherine Legge] is great – she is an example to all of us, and I wish her all the success.”

Money is the fuel that currently drives young racing talent to the top. In the absence of funding, talent alone is all too often not enough – for now, it has to be coupled with an extremely rare tenacity and drive.

That, combined with the simple fact that there are fewer girls than boys entering the sport at an early age, means the number of women currently getting to the top of the sport is still shockingly small.

Although Legge may not have had any racing role models growing up, she is now the one providing inspiration for future generations.

Hopefully the only stalking they will have to do is in pursuit of the car in front.

BBC Sport has launched #ChangeTheGame to showcase female athletes in a way they never have been before. Through more live women’s sport available to watch across the BBC this summer, complemented by our journalism, we are aiming to turn up the volume on women’s sport and alter perceptions.

Find out more here.

#claw'#motorsport

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mfmagazine · 5 years

Photo

Ross Thomas

Article by Lauren Weigle

Photo by Josh Madson

He’s a lover of travel, sports, and the great outdoors. Above all else, though, is family… with love following shortly behind. But, if you’re looking for some juicy details in that area, you may be a little disappointed. This strapping young actor doesn’t kiss and tell. What he does do, however, is entertain! Whether he’s tearing up the floor for the Wayans Brothers, getting you to laugh out loud in the movie theater, making you drool on General Hospital, or capturing your attention in his more serious roles, one thing is for sure; he’s having a great time. And why shouldn’t he? Good-looking, smart, talented, energetic, with a good head on his shoulders… make sense.

You were in the movie Dance Flick… What was it like working with the legendary Wayans brothers?

The Wayans brothers are comedic icons. I grew up watching In Living Color, so I've been a big fan of their work for quite some time. When I was a kid, my mom would say, "Ross, time to turn that off and do your homework," and I would respond, "yo, homie don't play that!" Of course that didn't fly so well with El Jefe. When I got the call from my agent about "Dance Flick" I thought, "yes! This is my Jim Carey moment...I have to show these guys I can hang with their comedy". I made it past the first couple auditions, all the way to the final test, which would be in front of the entire Wayans family at Paramount. I was amped to get in there and do my thing, but also a bit terrified to bomb in front of such prolific comedians.

I can only imagine. So, how did you overcome your fear?

I decided to let it rain and just go as far with the material as I could. They surprised me in the room and told me I would have to B-boy dance to some old school track. So I threw some Michael Jackson spins with a bit of pop n' lock and proceeded to slide down the table that they were all sitting at. Needless to say, they were in hysterics. That was a surreal moment...making the legendary Wayans laugh! I've never laughed so hard making a movie! Every day we came to set was like going to a dance party and cracking jokes. The Wayans are all about family and loyalty, so the whole production had a very familial feeling to it. The director, Damien Wayans, would let us improv as much as we wanted and if it was funny, he'd keep it in. It was a very liberating experience working with these guys...they realize that comedy happens in the moment and a lot it of you can't plan or write for.

I guess you wouldn’t really call it work then. Was it just one big blooper reel?

We laughed all day long on this movie. I found myself not wanting to go home at the end of the day because we were having too much fun. During our lunch breaks, rather than sit in our trailers, we'd go out into the parking lot and blast the music and have giant dance battles. We had some of the best dancers in the world working on this movie, so we got to watch them battle it out and cut rugs every day. Each one of them had different styles and techniques...it was like seeing the movie Wild Style up close! It was definitely a unique experience being a part of a film where I was also getting the chance to see the inner circle and culture of the professional dance scene.

Well, you've won numerous festival awards. Can you tell me about some of the projects behind the awards?

I've been fortunate to have worked on some really extraordinary independent films. I enjoy working on these types of projects because I feel there is often more room to push the boundaries and take risks. Independent film is usually harder to get financed and made because it generally doesn't fit the Hollywood model for big monetary return. That being said, the filmmakers and

actors involved don't have giant studios and executives dictating their every move, so there is freedom to push the envelope with the art. I played a deaf man trying to start his own business while facing the obstacles that presents with his handicap, in the movie What's Bugging Seth?. I've worked with acclaimed indie directors Jonah Markowitz on Shelter and Christopher Landon on Burning Palms… just to name a few.

When you were in the sequel to 1992's The Cutting Edge, I hear you did your own stunts?

In my work, I try to do as much of my own stunts as the director will let me do. For The Cutting Edge: Going for the Gold, I had already known how to rollerblade on half-pipes and I could hold my own on ice skates. When I was eleven years old, my mom finally caved in and allowed me to get a half-pipe built in my backyard. I learned how to skateboard, BMX, and rollerblade on

the half-pipe and soon my house became the after school "go to spot" for all the neighborhood kids. I'm sure at the time, my mom was worried I was going to break my neck on the thing, but all these years later I was able to say, "See, Mom! The half-pipe paid off...I was able to do a lot of my own stunts in the movie!" Of course there are always going to be certain tricks that are just too risky for the lead actor to attempt and, for that, we have really amazing stunt guys who are the best in the biz at what they do. One of the challenges that CE2 presented was learning to be graceful on ice skates. Sure I could hockey skate, but the role called for me to go from progressive street skater to finessed ice figure skater. To train for that, Christy Romano and I had a really great coach that worked with us on ice to prepare for the movie. We weren't doing our own Triple Sow Cow Lutz's, but we did quite a bit. The director, Sean McNamara, and I have gone on to work on many other projects together, Soul Surfer being one of them. Sean always knows that I am game to take on any challenge and rock my own stunts!

Even with all the training involved, were there any major injuries?

There was a pretty substantial amount of training involved in preparing for this film. A lot of it, though, we learned on the fly with the help of the fantastic real life figure skaters that worked on film. The only injuries I suffered were a few bumps and bruises here and there, and a consistent black and blue arse.

Okay, let's talk about your steady gig on Beyond The Break. Give me a little run-down of the show.

Beyond the Break was a television series shot on the West Coast of O'ahu in Hawaii. The series revolved around the world of the competitive surfing and the drama that comes with that territory. I played Bailey Reese, who is the equivalent of a Kelly Slater type professional surfer. Bailey's life was fueled by his strong passion for women and waves.

Was it fun working on the show since you're already into surfing "outside the office"?

Working on a show like this was a blast. We got to go to work on the beach and surf all day...not too shabby. Since I loved to surf already, being able to pay my bills doing so was pretty epic. Not to mention, we worked with some of the best world class surfers and watermen in the game. I also took part in once in a lifetime opportunities while I was there, like paddling out with Brian Keaulana and other pro surfers into Waimea Bay; plus being a part of the circle in commemoration of the infamous Eddie Aikau.

What else do you like to do outside of acting?

I love to be active in the outdoors. I am an extreme sports adrenaline junkie, so whether it's a wave, glacier, or motorcycle...I'm on it! I also love traveling to remote regions and spending time with indigenous people. Some of the most influential teachers in my life have been from tribal communities and I take every opportunity I have to learn from their supreme wisdom. As a result, I have also become a strong advocate for the protection of indigenous rights and territories. I spend a lot of my free time campaigning against various forms of globalization on the rainforest and its inhabitants. Last year, I made a short documentary film called Extraction: The Plundering of the Amarakaeri Reserve, which provides first-hand accounts from the indigenous Harakmbut tribe, living in the shadow of seismic exploration on their land deep in the heart of the Peruvian rain forest. I also enjoy reading non-fiction adventure books, writing, playing music and spending time with my family.

Do you get enough time to focus on your personal life to do all these things?

I am one of those people who goes nonstop around the clock. It's a blessing and a curse. Being this way has helped me accomplish many goals and helped propel my career. But at the same time, I always have to remind myself that I need to take time and meditate and be still. I think in order to be clear and centered, we owe it to ourselves and to spirit to quiet the mind and

simply be. This is not something that comes easy for me, but something I constantly work on.

So, tell me about how you got onboard with General Hospital.

My manager, Allan Grifka, had received a call from General Hospital casting director, Mark Teschner about a role he thought I might like to do. Mark and I almost worked together the summer before on a film he was casting, but I was already involved in another project that filmed at the same time, so I couldn't do it. Mark kept me in mind down the line and sure enough, thought of me for the role of Brandon on GH. It was a character I'd get to really sink my teeth into and play with. Brandon is a bad guy and really a disgusting person, so getting outside myself and tapping into that was a challenge I was intrigued by. I was offered the part and two weeks later I was on set wreaking havoc on Port Charles.

How does working on a Soap Opera differ from acting on regular television series'?

I have a lot of respect for Soap Opera actors. These people have to learn incredible amounts of material and in an extremely small amount of time. Often times, you are literally getting pages upon pages the night before you shoot. It takes discipline and technique to thrive in this genre of work. For me, it was a real learning experience and one that forced me to be on my game. You have to be on point because nine out of ten times you are only getting one take. I am used to working in film where you spend the entire day working on five pages and perfecting the scene to the best it can be. In the Soap Opera world you can literally be shooting over a hundred pages a day. It's intense, but exciting and a lot fun.

Let's switch over to film again. How about some of your most recent projects? Let’s go back to Soul Surfer.

I am very proud to be a part of the film Soul Surfer. Soul Surfer is the inspirational story of surfer Bethany Hamilton, who lost her arm to a Tiger Shark attack when she was just thirteen years old. SS portrays the heroic and courageous comeback of Bethany as she perseveres above all the odds to get back on the board and once again do what she loves so passionately. I play her older brother Noah, who is an important part of Bethany's life and story. Noah has been a strong proponent of Bethany's talent for surfing and her quest to become a professional in the sport, since they were little kids. Rather than focus on his own surfing, Noah generously and selflessly helps propel and support Bethany to stardom. He is also her personal photographer and helps manage her career. When Bethany loses her arm, Noah's world, along with the whole Hamilton family's, feels as though it is crashing down. However, with Bethany's unbelievably positive and optimistic attitude, she has an infectious charm on the whole family and they are able to bond together and ultimately use what happened to her to spread the message of hope, faith, courage, and determination to people all over the world.

So, preparing for anything right now or just laying a little low?

I am preparing for a new role in a movie I am starting at the end of this month. Unfortunately, I cannot disclose details at this point, but there is exciting stuff on the horizon!

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foryourimaginationonly · 7 years

Text

Dark Secrets - Part 2

Context: You are a Slytherin who enjoys long walks in the Forbidden Forest, keeping dark secrets, and falling for a guy you never thought you’d fall for.

Warnings: This talks about spiders for all my arachnophobes out there.

Part one

A week passed before you took another trip out to the Forbidden Forest. The last time was when you stumbled upon Draco’s dark secret. After you two left the forest, you checked on him daily to make sure he was okay. Today was no different, except he was nowhere to be found, so you decided to take a quick stroll through your favorite forest to clear the clouding thoughts and memories in your overflowing mind.

It was pitch black out but your wand was your guide, giving you light while you brushed through trees and bushes, finding a good spot to sit down and stare up at the dark shapes the trees made. You reminisced about the times before terror took hold of Hogwarts and how easy it was to sneak through the quiet corridors and out into the silky night. The dangers that lay before you were nothing but adrenaline rushes that kept you moving, never stopping to rethink your decisions. If you got caught, it could mean life or death, but you had no intentions of chickening out. Your thoughts traveled to last week and how Draco held onto you, needing someone to comfort him. Your mind reeled at the thought of his blonde hair soft against your cheek as you rocked him back and forth, his scent still lingering in your senses.

You shot up from where you were laying, shaking your head vigorously trying to forget what you just thought, but the feeling you just experienced lingered. A branch snapped and you shot your eyes in the direction of a tall figure. You stood up with your wand at ready.

“Who’s there?” You demanded.

Draco stepped out of the darkness and into sight and you sighed, letting your wand fall back to your side.

“You scared the living daylights out of me.” You said, sitting back down onto the fallen tree.

“Sorry.” Was all he could manage before sitting next to you. There was a piercing silence before he spoke.

“I just wanted to thank you for being there for me.” He said, twiddling his wand in his hands. “I didn’t think that I could go through with it and I still don’t, but it’s nice to know that someone cares for me and doesn’t see me as a monster.”

You looked into his pale blue eyes, finding truth behind his words. “I could never see you as a monster, Draco. You have a heart like everyone else, it’s just the way you show it is a bit…different.”

He smiled and you felt your chest tighten. Why did you feel these things? Surely you hadn’t started to like him.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked.

“I like to take nightly walks in the woods when my anxiety is high to clear my head. I can’t sleep when nights like these are upon me.”

“It’s dangerous out here. You sure you know what you’re doing?” He gave you a sloppy smile and it made your heart skip a beat.

“Of course. Danger is my adrenaline rush and I guess I’m a junkie for it.” You said, relaxing a little. You weren’t aware of how tense you were. “What are you doing out here?”

“I saw you leave the castle and decided to follow you. I was curious as to why you would leave all alone at night and enter a forest with a reputation.” You both smiled.

“It’s like a comfort for me. It sounds weird, I know but I really enjoy coming out here, surrounded by the mysterious.” You felt him move and looked over to see him straddling the tree, facing you, his eyes intently watching you.

“Well, I can see why. You’re a mystery yourself.” He said. You too turned to straddle the tree, facing him.

“Am I? What makes you think that?” You asked, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Well, most people would run after seeing the dark lord give someone a dark mark.” He paused, pain washing over his face for a split second before it disappeared. “But you didn’t. You stayed and helped me and took care of me and I really do appreciate it.” He touched your hand lightly.

You felt a shiver run through your spine as his cold fingers gracefully trailed across the back of your hand. “Why weren’t you in your classes today?” You asked him, distracting yourself.

He shrugged and looked away. “’S nothing.” You knew he was doing deeds for that vile beast and you understood. He was Voldemort’s property now and had to obey his every command or his family and his friends lives would be in danger.

“I’m sorry.” You said. “I can understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but please don’t forget that I am here for you.” You reached out and touched his cheek, not knowing that you had the ability to do so, but you felt the urge to comfort him.

There was a moment, between the two of you, that sparked a fire deep inside you, and for some reason, you both started to lean towards one another as though gravity was pulling you both into a space between the two of you. Your hand was still on his cheek and his hand was still on your other one. You were inches apart when you heard voices in the distance. Breaking the trance, you both quickly got up, Draco pulling you to his side.

“We have to hide. If they find us, both of our heads will be on the headmasters desk for display.” You said, taking Draco’s hand and running. You didn’t stop running until you felt as though your heart would beat out of your chest. You paused and bent over, hands on your knees trying to catch your breath. You glanced over to see Draco doing the same.

“I didn’t know you could run like that.” He said, in between breaths. You let out a small laugh before straightening back up.

“What can I say? I have a knack for adrenaline.”

He smiled at you before you both started to take in your surroundings. You hadn’t been looking where you were going and ended up in a part of the forest you hadn’t seen yet.

“Well this is new.” You said, trying to lighten up the mood. He side eyed you before taking out his wand and lighting up the area. You felt the air tense as things started to take on shapes.

“What the hell..” You said, trailing off before gasping.

The biggest damn spider you ever did see was standing only feet away. You felt fear rise in your chest as your anxiety overtook you. You backed into Draco, never taking your eyes off the giant.

“Y/N, you alright?” Draco asked you, taking your hand and pulling you behind him.

You weren’t aware of your body literally vibrating with fear. “Have I ever mentioned my biggest fear is spiders? Like biggest fear?”

“Well, now was a great time to have told me.” He said, pushing you back until you both hit a tree.

The spider started to delicately move towards you, taking light steps before you both decided that now was a good time to book it.

Taking off into the woods, holding hands, you both ran without a real destination in sight. You peeled behind you to see if the giant was still following only to realize it was right on your heels. You screeched, running faster than your body had ever gone before, dodging branches and fallen trees.

If you had really been paying attention you would have noticed the giant person standing in front of you before you and Draco both slammed into him.

“Whoa there, what are two kids like yourselves doing this deep in the forbidden forest?” You heard Hagrid’s voice and immediately stood up from the spot you had fallen to get behind him.

“Hagrid…Sp..SPIDER!” You screamed. Hagrid looked up to see the giant spider standing there.

“Oh this fellow? Hey, go on back to your pack. They’re not food. Sorry.” He said to creature before it turned and sulked back into the darkness.

Draco was stunned as he sat at Hagrid’s feet.

“Now, mind telling me what you two are doing out here? Hope no funny business, if you know what I mean.”

Part Three

A/N: I have the biggest fear of spiders on the planet earth. I hated writing the part but I literally wrote it as if it were me facing the big spider. Also, i locked my keys in the car the other day and there were some really nice people to help me unlock it. But turns out they messed up a locking mechanism in my driver door and now my driver door doesn’t work so i literally dukes of hazard my way into the front seat. Moral of story: Have a spare key located on your car for reasons like that.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #imagine draco #draco malfoy imagine #draco x reader #IMAGINE HARRY POTTER #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #imagine

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scenariosofkonoha · 7 years

Note

Hi, I absolutely loved your Kakashi/ children headcannon? If you have the time, can you do one on Deidara?

I always have time for babies! Alrighty, I’m going to go with the idea that Deidara would end up having a girl, so here we go.

She was 100%, absolutely, positively, not a single doubt in my mind, a mistake; and she was a mistake that absolutely terrified him. Until he found out that he was going to be a father, Deidara did not know fear, but that day when his daughter’s mom said that she was pregnant, Deidara was a mixture of being completely stunned, unable to process anything, and wanting to screech out every expletive that he could think of.

Deidara did not want a child; having a kid was not a part of his plans, but now he’s being told that he’s going to have a baby in nine months, and his first instinct is to just run away and never look back. Immediately, he doesn’t respond well to it; probably storms out and tries to get away from everyone and process it all, but it is something that he eventually comes to grips with it. Of course he’s still terrified of the idea that he’ll have to take care of a child, but the idea of just leaving them to fend for themselves is something far worse. He may be an S-ranked terrorist bomber, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a heart.

I want to say that Deidara and the mother of his child would have pretty limited contact after his daughter was born; part of me just doesn’t think that they would last together as an actual couple. That being said, I want to say that the custody would be split between to two, because you know, Deidara is a terrorist bomber, and that’s not exactly child friendly…

Honestly, when his daughter was in the early baby stages of life, he wasn’t that extraordinary; he kinda half-assed it and hoped that she would be fine. He did the basics, but that was about it; absolutely hated diapers. As she got older and gained personality and mobility, Deidara began to genuinely like having her around and taking care of her instead of just doing because he had to. When she’s about 6 months old is when he really starts to bond with her.

She’s such a sensory advanced child! As expected with a father like Deidara, she grew up around clay and various mediums, so she became very sensory engaged at a young age. She always goes in to play with different textures and is very cognitive of various sounds and colors; she’s not afraid of getting messy; she wants to explore the world around her, and this is probably one of Deidara’s favorite aspects of her personality. Whenever he’s just working, Deidara will make sure to give his little on a bit of clay too, because it keeps her occupied for hours at a time~ though sometimes this was a problem when she was very much still in the oral stage of her life.

STOP! YOU CAN’T EAT IT! SPIT IT OUT, HM! SPIT. IT. OUT.

Deidara also made her into a fearless little thing too. She wasn’t even six months old before she was flying up on one of his birds, and as she got older, this became one of her absolute favorite things. You know the stereotypical thing dads do when they throw their kids up in the air? Ya? Imagine that, but on one of those birds. Deidara will toss her up in the air, and then nose dive with the bird, so she’s free falling for awhile, and she just loves it. He’ll end up making her into an adrenaline junkie by the age of three, but oh well.

On a side note though, this is a great trust exercise, so you can imagine the massive amount of trust that Deidara’s daughter has in him, which if Deidara wanted anyone to have faith in him, he’d want it to be his child. He may not have been the best at getting her bottles on time or dressing her proper, but he can catch her as she free falls in the sky, and show her how to enjoy life and everything exciting about it, and that’s what his little one truly cares about.

Yet he does not deal with fits AT ALL. If his girl starts having a fit over something, he will just kinda glare at her for a moment before shaking his head and saying something like, “No, what are you doing? Stop.” And if their fit turns into a tantrum, he will literally just start walking away from them, completely ready to leave them by themselves until they stop acting like such a brat; Deidara’s just not putting up with that.

It’s like Jesus Christ Baby Deidara, get your shit together; your dad doesn’t have the time or will to deal with you throwing yourself into a puddle bc he wouldn’t let you pick up a dead bird. Stop, child.

But she’s so stubborn; it’s terrible, makes Deidara wanna throw her off a cliff half the time. Her stubbornness has almost always been with her too, and Deidara knows that she got it from him, but some days he just doesn’t want to deal with it, because a child shouldn’t be this defiant. She will literally bother him until he gives in, which ends up becoming a day long event, because he doesn’t want to give into a 2 year old, but at the same time she won’t eat, sleep, play, nothing until she gets her way. It pisses Deidara off so much.

He gets so protective over her whenever another one of the Akatsuki members get near her; it’s kinda funny, because he thought that he wouldn’t care, but when the reality that all of these S-ranks are just casually around his little girl, his territorial side kicks in.

ABSOLUTELY REFUSES to allow Itachi to touch her, “Don’t contaminate my baby with your tainted Uchiha hands, hm.”

Baby Deidara kinda likes Itachi though; his room is always good for naps and his heartbeat is slow and calming, so if she’s feeling sleepy and Deidara’s gone, she’ll go find Itachi. But she’s a smart little one and knows enough about her dad’s relationship with the Uchiha to act like she doesn’t like Itachi wherever Deidara is near. It’s funny, because one time she fell asleep on Itachi while Deidara was out on a mission, and then Deidara came back and she woke to Deidara questioning Itachi why his three year old is all cuddled up to him, and she straight out freaked out and bit Itachi, because her dad can’t know that she likes to nap by Itachi when he’s gone. And Itachi’s just like ?!? because this is the same child that searched him out and cuddled up to him and fell asleep- he was just being kind and let her rest- but now she just bit him hard enough to make him bleed and started sobbing to her dad like he did something to her. Deidara was so proud of her, but Itachi is just glaring at her because she’s a little shit just like her daddy; she’s cute, but she’s such a little shit.

#such a little shit #bby deidara #you can't just bite people about expect them to cuddle with you #deidara #akatsuki #deidara sfw #deidara headcanon #naruto headcanon #naruto writing

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mnm-inc-miles · 5 years

Text

Colson’s Experiences 2019

Saturday August 24, 2019

FIRST TIME

With muffled whispers as a warning, a stranger was let into the room. I felt a swell of panic rise inside as my chest tightened. It was only mid morning, if this was how it would be then the days were sure to be very long. I wasn’t told how often I would be performing but an early customer wasn’t promising.

Closing my eyes a moment I tried to get into the right frame of mind. As if there was one for a situation like this. How the fuck do you prep for invasion. It’s not like verbalizing consent means you feel consensual. Is this what women felt like when men put the moves on them?

My eyes opened when I felt a new weight on the bed. I offered a slight smile as a man crawled his way toward me. In terms of attractive I was pleasantly surprised. His hair was tied in a messy bun, his body which had already been disrobed was slender, and his features were mostly attractive. It was his eyes that scared me, dark and angry.

He began by gently caressing my legs then slowly pulling down the briefs from around my waist. His first kiss which he placed just below my belly button was like electricity, in the worst way. This was real and I was about to be fucked, literally and emotionally. My eyes rolled back and my lids tightened. I squinted, reaching deep into the recesses of my mind to find a way to make this okay. Both my wrists were still cuffed outstretched on either side of the bed. I could do nothing but submit.

He caressed his way to my chest and let his head rest a moment, his cheek against my heart, I’m sure he could feel it beating wild. He lifted his head and let his body lower closer to mine, I could feel his hardened penis against my leg. I swallowed and looked down at him, his chin now resting upon my chest.

“I can sense your fear,” he whispered.

“I’m not afraid,” I spoke somewhat unbelievably. “I’m racing with anticipation...” I tried to add.

“If all my other senses were failing me, I could still see it in your eyes. They don’t lie.” He paused and rose above me, his lips inches from my own. His eyes were softer now, like I’d piqued his curiosity. “Have you done this before?”

I wasn’t sure what the appropriate answer would be so when in doubt, tell the truth. “First time with a man,” I admitted.

A slight smile and his hand found my jugular, squeezing. “How many lovers have you said that too already?” His breathe smelled heavy of alcohol.

“None, I shit you not.”

He watched my eyes closely, lowered his face to my ear and whispered, “You’re in for a treat, I promise to take it easy.”

He sat up quickly and spit in his hand, then rubbed his own cock before pushing himself inside me. I winced as he let his girth rest in the cavity of my ass. Fuck. This man just took my virginity, homosexually speaking.

“Are you okay?”

Something inside me clicked and I felt myself becoming someone else. “Fuck yeah, show me what you got, I want it just the way you like it.” My machismo was short lived once he made his first thrust. I think I underestimated the pain, but I grit my teeth and kept playing along.

I think he honestly believed he was taking it easy, because once in a while for a few long seconds he lost himself. His thrusts were quicker and deeper and he gripped a hand around my throat. Then he’d release and check in on my well being. I wondered if he actually cared. What did he know about this situation? Did he know I was trapped here, I was held captive as a sex slave for a heroin junkie? Somehow I doubted Darrell to be a man of honesty. But the people I was going to have visit me...they had to know it was shady, part of them had to know this was wrong. I chose to believe the best in the man currently engaged with me, it sat better with my gut.

“You’re not quite hard...” his voice brought me back to reality. “I want us to cum together.” He began to stroke my manhood. “You nervous?” I bit my tongue, afraid to say the wrong thing. “I know the trick...” He pulled himself out and I heard myself gasp and hoped it sounded pleasurable to the other. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care because his mouth was around my dick and fuck if it didn’t feel good. Why I didn’t choose sex over fighting in the first place is beyond me. “There we go,” he growled playfully as he stopped sucking and began to circle my head with his thumb.

I felt my body shiver as he coaxed pre-cum from my tip. Then spitting again in his hand he entered me once more. I withdrew slightly but this time as he moved it felt good. He rocked gently as he grabbed my cock and gave a gentle tug, “Stay with me,” he ordered. And by some miracle we both came and he collapsed upon me a very very satisfied man.

“I hope I’ll see you again soon,” I let the lies drip effortlessly from my lips. He raised his head, eyes wild with adoration, as if he hadn’t expected this from me. Then he got up, dressed, and left. Once he was gone I felt my adrenaline drop dramatically. I suddenly felt overwhelmed with exhaustion and quickly fell asleep.

———————

Monday August 26, 2019

NUMBER 5

After Darrell a couple times and a repeat from my first customer whom I’d learned wanted to be called Daddy, I felt like maybe this wouldn’t be so bad and I could handle whatever came at me. I just had to bide my time until someone found me. I knew they’d be looking, my mom would never submit to my absence, or my dad. They were wonderful and incredibly attentive parents, I was very lucky. I could do this, and soon enough I’d be rescued.

My next customer was different. He was a power bottom I guess you could say, but it wasn’t as easy as it might sound at first. He was overweight, with acne scars and a poorly kept beard, but he had these striking green eyes. I made it a goal to try and find the humanity in each of my customers, or at least a quality or characteristic I liked about them. The only trouble with this guy, is he barely looked at me. I caught a glimpse of these wild eyes, green like emeralds and in an instant he sat himself upon me, his eyes cast upon the ceiling.

Let me fucking say it doesn’t feel great going up an asshole when your dick isn’t hard. But this guy had some kind of talent because it didn’t take long before he had me right where he wanted me. I wasn’t sure if it was the sheer mass of his body or the ferocity of his movements, maybe both, but he left me raw and bruised by the end of our time together. My hips were sore, my manhood throbbing in the worst way. I was simply left thinking, what the fuck was that? Still, I imagined it could have been worse.

———————

Tuesday August 27, 2019

NUMBER 7

I knew the moment he walked in the door I was in trouble, but I didn’t know how much. This would be my 7th lay, and it wouldn’t hold up to the superstition. The man dwarfed me in size, he was at least my height and broad, slightly over weight. He had his pants on still but his shirt was already off. There was a badass tattoo on his chest of skeleton hands ripping open his bare chest and revealing his heart. I almost envied it but when my eyes met his they were dark as coal and hungrier than a hyena.

“Hey handsome,” I tried to make a connection, make him see me as human.

“No talking,” He seethed as he unhooked a work belt. He took extra care to show me a knife in his pocket. “I mean it, not a word.” I swallowed hard as he continued to throw orders at me, barely allowing me time to adhere before involving himself. “Take your underwear off,” he growled, his anger rising as he pulled them off himself. “On your knees,” he continued, pulling me close and shoving my face against his prick. “Suck.”

“What?” I was suddenly flabbergasted. As if such a command was out of the realm of possibility. Like I’d forgotten just where I was.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back, “Was that a word?” I could feel the heat of his fuming anger come at me like a furnace. I shook my head and acted quickly. Having never actually sucked a cock I prayed I was doing it well. “Yesss,” he seethed, a rewarding sound, what a relief. He released the grasp on my hair and gently caressed me instead. “Such beautifully soft locks,” he mused, almost affectionately, if only for a moment. It was a strange and foreign sensation to feel another man grow hard in my mouth, it made my stomach turn.

“Alright, enough, now turn around,” came another demand. Mid turn he had his hands on my hips and flipped me faster. “You better listen boy,” his voice like venom. I swallowed hard, biting my tongue in fear of angering him further.

He thrust into me, his girth growing and the pain intensifying. The man was clearly a grower not a shower because there’s no way what I’d seen could feel the way this did. He went hard, my face pressed against the rails of the bedpost and it felt like my skull might crack any second. I couldn’t believe the bucking power this man had. But I grit my teeth and held back cries until I felt something tear and my breathe escaped me. I let out a cry but he kept at it.

“Easy,” I breathed, not being able to contain myself, tears forming in my eyes. He grabbed a fistful of hair, warning me not to make any more sounds.

Suddenly the door flew open and Darrell marched in, “This is your only warning,” he puffed himself up and it sickened me to feel grateful upon his arrival. The moment he stepped in, the man violating me eased up, if only slightly. It didn’t entirely matter, the damage was done, but the change was satisfactory to Darrell. Once he left the man continued to plow into my backside until ejaculating inside me. When finished the man shoved my head into the pillow for long enough to make me worry he wasn’t trying to snuff me out. He let me up to breathe, his lips close to my ear. In a harsh whisper he warned, “Next time you cry out you won’t be so lucky.”

When he left I collapsed onto the sheets and cried. I hoped there would never be a next time with that man. My face was bruised, my ass was bleeding, and every muscle in my body screamed in agony. If this...if this night was telling of future engagements I wasn’t sure I’d make it very long.

———————

Thursday August 29 - Friday August 30, 2019

NUMBER 8 - Daddy

I heard the door open and felt panic rise within me. Darrell had given me a full day to recover but I feared it wasn’t enough. I knew I wasn’t emotionally ready and I doubted my physical capabilities too. To my surprise it was a familiar face, Daddy, he liked to be called, this would be our third venture together. Clearly he had a thing for me, or he couldn’t get it elsewhere, I suppose the truth didn’t matter.

It had always been the same with him, but this time once he slid inside he felt my body resist and instead of thrusting he just rest there. He crawled his long slender arms up my torso and held my face, then rest his chest against my own.

“Somethings different,” he spoke, the same scent of alcohol lingering on his breathe. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied. I was always cuffed by both hands with him, I think he didn’t like being touched. But I felt bold and I leaned forward and let my lips graze his forehead.

He pulled back like I’d shocked him, startled. “Why’d you do that?”

“To show you everything is okay...” I breathed and watched him cautiously.

“Do you think I might hurt you?”

“No,” I replied quicker than I expected, probably because it was the truth. “No Daddy, I don’t. I think you want me to be okay.”

“Don’t kiss me again,” he breathed as his hand found my throat and he began to slowly thrust. While doing so he made sure to pay attention to my own member, as had become customary, because it seemed important to him that we finish together. When we did he dressed and left quickly as he had in the past.

NUMBER 9 & 10

Only a few hours later the same day another man entered the room, one I hadn’t seen before. I tried to quell the panic within, but as soon as he was inside me I froze. Every movement caused me pain and I tried hard not to cry. Needless to say he forced me to sit up and suck him to satisfaction before leaving disgruntled.

The next day was basically a repeat but without Daddy. Darrell came in after and threatened people I loved if I didn’t get my head back in the game. He felt I was afraid and not actually in pain. It was both, I’ll admit, but I would have liked to see his response to having his asshole torn in two. Of course I couldn’t say such a thing and I simply begged for a good nights sleep and something to dull the pain. I’m not sure what he did, but I was out like a light until the following afternoon when my next customer showed up.

———————

Saturday August 31, 2019

NUMBER 11

It was routine for Darrell to come in and adjust my cuffs if a customer so desired my bondage differently. This time, for the first time, he cuffed only an ankle to the bottom of the bed post before disappearing. This was the most range of movement I’d ever had in the bed. Shortly thereafter I heard the the door open and looked to see my next customer.

This man was intimidating, very built, he was short, maybe 5’6” but had arms the size of bowling balls. I feared the worst for my wellbeing as I sized him up. This was who I had to prove to Darrell that I was the man for this job and not someone I cared about? This brute was who I was supposed to sell my feigned desires? But to my surprise this book had a cover that was not telling of his demeanor.

He disrobed, crawled into bed with me and began tracing my body with his fingers. Chills of disgust shot through me, but chills are chills to anyone outside my mind, so it pleased him to see me respond to his touch. My favorite thing about him, he looked like he has a small prick, so that was a relief. Unless of course he was a grower, which I had learned was very possible.

Suddenly he grabbed one of my wrists with his large hands and held it tightly. They were already sore from the cuffs but his manic grip didn’t help. I ignored the pain and focused on him, his lips sucking gingerly along my neck and chest. His other hand grabbed my remaining wrist and he gently pulled me on top of him. I felt the cuff around my ankle rub as it was pulled taut.

“We may need to...” he put his lips against mine then hushed me. What was it about these guys and not talking. I suppose maybe it was too humanizing.

“Body language,” he spoke, his voice sounding different than I expected, like perhaps he had a speech impediment.

I followed his order and simply moved my body closer to the bottom of the bed so my ankle wasn’t chaffing. He moved very fluidly with me. Then his hands were against my ass cheeks and he began to pull me closer, his own hips thrusting up. Needless to say I was confused as to what he was getting at. But because of the confusion I had no room left to be scared, which worked in my favor.

Our bodies moved against one another creating friction and I felt his penis grow hard. Then all at once a lightbulb went off in my head. This was some kind of foreplay for him, and he was a bottom and needed me hard too. With my hands free I was able to grab my own member and begin to tug, closing my eyes as he kissed me and trying desperately to pretend he was someone else, someone sexy and beautiful and well, someone I wanted and wasn’t forced with instead.

As nature intended enough rubbing and well wishing left my member ready to do it’s job. I spit in my hand, as Daddy had always done, and readied myself. This wouldn’t be so bad because I had the control. As I made my way inside him and thrust he moaned in ecstasy. His hands gripped my biceps so hard I could feel a pulse. Those would leave marks. Then his legs curled up and around my back side as he pushed me harder into him. Well fuck, sorry I’m not ripping you a new one.

One hand left my bicep and found it’s way to the back of my neck. Squeezing once again. He pulled me closer his teeth found my shoulder. I winced but faked a groan of delight. He kept tightening his grip until I bucked harder and then he eased up. He came first, his vile spunk splashing upon my chest. I came moments later inside him. As he left, my body collapsed onto the bed in utter exhaustion. He gave my ass a hard slap before exiting through the dreaded door. Lots of surprises with that one.

NUMBER 12

For the first time I felt a tingle of excitement when this customer walked in the room. I’ll admit I had been nervous, as I had been cuffed by both wrists, and one ankle. Most of the time it was only one wrist, with the exception of Daddy. Even during the day it was only one. But this person specifically requested three limbs be cuffed, so Darrell obliged, naturally.

But when I saw her I will regrettably admit I was thrilled. I scoured her body, my spirit desperately desired some feminine energy. She was rail thin, with angular features and a thin hooked nose. Her eyes were a dull blue and her hair was long and jet black. Her breasts were a good size, not that I was in a position to really touch them, but they were nice to look at. When normally I was looking for something I liked about a customer I couldn’t seem to find the opposite now. But the gender was where the positives ended. This girl, something had fucked her up inside, she was sick. Mentally disturbed.

As she sat on top of me the first thing she did was slap my face. “Avoid eye contact,” she hissed. Noted.

“Yes ma’am,” I gave a slight nod and kept my head turned. Her hands then found my neck and she began to choke me. “Careful,” I barely breathed. “You don’t want Darrell to come and spoil our fun.”

She slapped me again, this time harder, and I felt a ring slightly tear my skin. It didn’t hurt much but I half expected Darrell to run in, then again...she wasn’t doing any permanent damage. “I am not here so you can have fun. I’m here to teach you a lesson. I paid twice what you’re worth. No one is coming in here.”

My heart sank and a knot grew in my throat. Could she be telling the truth, did I not prove myself earlier in the afternoon that Darrell gave up and was already out looking for a replacement. I pushed the thought from my mind in fear of tears finding their way to my eyes.

She carefully slipped herself on top of my cock and rocked, massaging my member in hopes of getting it harder. Then the bombardment of physical brutality came in a wave of anger and pain. Her eyes were emotionless, or perhaps so filled with multiple emotions that they couldn’t be deciphered. Her fists would pound my chest and abdomen as she continued to ride me. Her nails would drag along my skin, and although they weren’t sharp enough to tear, they left long red welts in their wake. She let out cries of satisfaction, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on those sounds. More slaps to the face, choking, and such aggressive riding I actually found it difficult to remain hard. Which did me no fucking favors because she clearly planned to go until I finished.

But I was proven wrong again. Out of her mouth escaped a chorus of orgasms as her legs shook slightly and her nails dug into my thighs. I winced and prayed maybe this was it. She slowed herself down but not before slapping me across the face again. It stung, if I could see myself in a mirror I’m sure it would be blistered red. She rocked gently now and I could feel my dick seek solace in the change of pace. Then she hopped off and took her thumb and gently massaged my manhood. My eyes rolled as I felt myself peaking. Then nothing. She crawled up and sat in my chest, her body bending unnaturally as she brought her face to mine. Then she spit on me, slapped me again, then dressed and left with the words, “serves you right,” leaving her lips.

Yup. Some guy fucked her up really bad. But it was hard to feel sorry for her because I wasn’t that guy. I didn’t deserve this. Once she was gone I let the tears fall. Today, of all the days, was the hardest one by far. I could feel my spirit breaking. I’d been here too long. Why was I still here, why hadn’t anyone saved me yet?

———————

Saturday August 31 - Monday September 2, 2019

THE NEXT 4 TIMES

I was fortunate enough that Darrell was my next customer, un-paying of course, not that I ever received the payments. Twice. But despite his lack of appeal visually, he was gentle. I’m not sure if this was intentional or just how he was. I imagined the former because he didn’t seem like a kind or exceptionally affectionate person naturally. But it behooved him to appeal to me, make him seem like the almighty savior. The breathe of fresh air. Honestly Daddy was better to be with, probably because there was less fear, more predictability. Not to mention Darrell was the sole reason I was in this situation, hard to overlook that fact. Following him it was Daddy, another relief. As my body ached from the witch that used me as a punching bag for the punishment of all mankind. He was worried when he saw me, I must have looked bad still, the bruising at it’s worst, a new emptiness in my eyes. He restrained himself again and left without saying any words. Probably for the better, last thing I needed was to grow attached to the shred of humanity he might have. Then after him was another new guy, nothing out of the ordinary, normal rough bucking hair pulling bullshit. I’m not sure I was entirely present to recall what was happening, I’m fairly certain I was drugged every day, and mayne it hit me harder this day. Or again, my spirit was broken after the girl.

——————

Tuesday September 3, 2019

NUMBER 17 - “THE RAVEN”

Darrell came in and hooked my loose wrist and one ankle to the bedpost. It couldn’t be her, I hoped like nothing else that it was someone new with the same request. As if I could be that lucky. He left and moments later she sauntered in. I closed my eyes, preparing for the onslaught of wrath. I decided to call her “The Raven” because of her jet black hair, empty eyes, and hooked nose. It was perfect, and the clever name itself was how I made my positive spin, because her being a woman did more damage than good now. Our session went exactly as it did before. My bruising had only just healed but her fists wrought terror and planted new marks along my body. She beat me until my body was numb and again, she left me blue balled. Just as well, painful, but at least she never tried to rip my junk off.

NUMBER 18

Only one wrist cuffed as a new customer walked in only hours after The Raven. My lip quivered slightly, this man made Darrell look like a prince. He was medium height, overweight, his hair was greasy with white flecks that I prayed were dandruff, his teeth, what few he had, were yellowed and some even black. I could smell the rot as he walked into the room. How Darrell okayed this one was beyond me.

He was eager, clearly starved for attention, and he had his face right up in mine. “Foreplay is much fun,” he spoke in an indistinguishable accent, English clearly not his first language. “I suck you, you suck me, same time.” And before I could wrap my head around the request his dick and balls were in my face and his mouth swallowed my member. Nope. Wasn’t going to happen was my initial response but when I felt a grip around my balls I remembered I had no choice in the matter. Eyes closed and mouth open, I did my best to suck the second cock I’ve ever put in my mouth.

After a few minutes he stopped and his ass was practically sitting on my face. “Eat it,” he demanded. Eat what? His ass? Was he serious? Another grip to the balls told me he was in fact very serious. I felt myself grow queasy as I did what I was instructed to do. The consequences of disobedience I’m sure were way worse than the act I was about to commit. He must have known I was new because he kept barking orders. “Don’t just lick it, stick your tongue right up in there...” I obeyed and he mewed in pleasure.

Suddenly I felt his fingers up my own ass. He ticked my g spot and I felt my member stiffen and my muscles quake. Then his fingers crawled further, I gasped in slight pain when I realized his entire fist was up my behind. Then in one swift motion he pulled his fist free and removed himself from my face. I gulped in the fresh air and he repositioned himself, stuffing his cock right up my ass. He pinched my nipples until they were numb as he thrust inside of me. He wasn’t graceful nor gentle, no rhythm or ounce of restrained. He was small below the belt which was my saving grace, otherwise he’d have torn me a new one with the way he moved. Once he finished he thanked me as if we both had a grand time and practically skipped out of the room.

After he left the stench of his body lingered. I felt vomit creeping up my throat. “Darrell!” I called out. “Darrell, I think...I think I’m gonna be sick...” I wretched but held it in and he casually strolled into the room and shook his head, handing me a barf bucket. I took the bucket with my free hand and threw up. My head spinning and my body heat rising.

“You’re overreacting,” he groaned angrily, clearly inconvenienced. I’d like to see him eat the ass of an overweight man with terrible hygiene. I wanted desperately to get a shower but I had one just yesterday which meant today it wouldn’t happen.

——————

Wednesday September 4, 2019

NUMBER 19 - DADDY

I was in sad sorts by the following day, when my mid morning usual, Daddy came in smelling delicious. I could name the alcohol, it was one I once enjoyed regularly, Tequila. He eyed me with melancholy eyes, and I immediately hated him. How dare he feel bad for me when he partakes in the very reason the pity exists. He must have seen my anger because he furrowed his brows and brought his face close to mine.

“Kiss me,” he stated, albeit hesitantly. I obliged and could taste the nectar on his lips. I longed for a night wasted in a Tequila bottle. To get out of my mind and the torture my body and spirit have endured the last two or three weeks. He kissed some of the bruises that had appeared and gently thumbed my face which I imagine was reddened from The Raven. Then, despite my obvious turmoil, he slipped inside me while he caressed me. When we finished together he let his cheek rest against my chest, listening to my heart race.

He lifted it after a moment and let his chin rest there instead, finding my eyes. “I wish I could take you home with me,” he said very tenderly.

“Bite me,” were the words that escaped my lips. A slip that I immediately regretted. He sat up and began to dress. “I’m sorry...” I breathed. “Please don’t...um, take offense, I’ve had a bad couple days, but you...you always make it better.”

This time he paused at the door, looked back at me and opened his mouth, as if he had something he wanted to say. He exhaled hard and shook his head, “I’m sorry,” were the only words he could muster. A lot of fucking good that does me. I imagined I wouldn’t be seeing him again.

———————

Friday September 6, 2019

THE LAST DAY

Yesterday was easy, a welcomed relief. As much as I hated Darrell he was kind to me on our days off. This time I had a pretty balanced breakfast, we had a nice walk, I got a shower, we watched some tv, then hooked up before eating a decent dinner. It honestly may have been the best day I’d had in a while. It’s a fucking sad truth but it very much was so far from a lie. I somehow felt happy.

But the break was over and today was another day of work. Daddy came by before noon as he often did every other day or so. He was my only regular, unless you count The Raven whom I’d been with twice only three days apart. I hoped she wouldn’t be returning. I was surprised to see Daddy after our last engagement. But this time was a quickie. He came in, barely looked at me as he fucked me, had his hand around my throat which was customary but tightened his grip more often than he had before, never too much or too long. Then we finished together, he dressed and left. Not as pleasant as our other meetings but still better than most everyone else.

Then there she was again, the fucking Raven herself. This time she let one of my hands remain free. I could smell the temptation, she was testing me. Daring me to touch her but I didn’t. I kept my wrist above my head as if it were still cuffed.

Her movements were frustrated, as if she knew I was onto her. She pounded my chest harder, I heard a rib crack. I waited for Darrell, nothing. Maybe he didn’t know since I barely reacted. I couldn’t feel much pain, my chest was all pins and needles. I closed my eyes and searched in my heart for the desire to understand her, to humanize her.

“I’m sorry,” were words that suddenly fell from my lips. She stopped riding me a moment and came closer, as if she didn’t hear what I had said. “For whoever or whatever hurt you, I’m sorry.” I said it quietly so only she could hear. She slapped me hard but for the first time I saw an emotion in her eyes. A specific and clear emotion that I could name, pain. “I am so sorry...” I said with deepest compassion.

“Stop it...” she breathed slapping me. “Just...stop. You’re nothing, you’re nobody.”

“I am somebody, I don’t know who I am to you...”

“Stop...”

“I am sorry, but it wasn’t me that hurt you...”

This time it wasn’t an open palm that came into contact with my face but her nails, cutting into my skin like cats claws. With my free hand I knocked her off.

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beautiful-liu · 7 years

Text

Chapter 22 - Remember me - Kryber

Title: Remember me

Pairing: Kryber [Amber Liu x Krystal Jung] Fandom: f(x) Genre: Drama, romance

Summary: The bad ass androgynous girl Amber Josephine Liu with a sex, drugs and rock-‘n-roll attitude whom everybody seemed to fear and admire at the same time, with the flash of a smug smile on her handsome face, and a sigaret or lolly pop in her mouth, depending on her mood. A leather jacket always hugging her shoulders, ripped jeans and a loose tank top that displayed just a tiny bit of her sports bra when she lifted her tattoo-filled arms. Everyone was weak for Amber Liu. Krystal simply didn’t see it. Until that one night she accidentally met her, and met a whole other person than the stories she had been made to believe. Word count: 5900 Rating: T A/N: Excuse the grammar mistakes. This is my first time writing a multi chaptered fic. Hope y'all enjoy the progress!

Read it on: AO3 & asianfanfics

Moodboard: x

For the following days, Krystal's smile couldn't be whiped off of her face. Now that she had finally made up her mind and set up a new goal to achieve, she felt a lot less restless. In fact, she almost felt happy. Of course, they were gonna go through a rough time, since she and Amber had to convince her father to still give her the company, despite the fact that she didn't want to marry Kai. And on top of that, she also had to break up with the man she had been together for years. Both men were defenitely not going to like it. But Krystal has been opressed by men all of her life and she was done with the endless rules for women to maintain made up by boring, old, wealthy, white men in power. She wanted to live her life like she wanted to. As CEO with Amber by her side. That's what she wanted and that was what she was going to achieve. When she had returned home, late that evening, Kai had waited for her. Krystal had hoped he would've gone to bed already, but it had been in vain. Even though it was almost one o'clock, Kai was still up. "I thought you were sick," he muttered, when Krystal closed the door. When she took off her coat and hung it up, she realized with a shock that she still wore Amber's R2-D2 sweater. Quickly she crossed her arms in front of her chest to hide the funny Star Wars character, hoping Kai wouldn't notice. He wasn't such a film junkie, so if she was lucky, he didn't even know R2-D2 was part of Star Wars. But would he recognize it as a sweater that wasn't hers? It didn't exactly fit in her wardrobe... "I was, but I felt better, so I went for a walk.." she mutterd. Kai raised one of his eyebrows. "A walk that lasts more than 5 hours? Kind of much, don't you think, after being sick for two days?" he asked. Krystal pressed her lips together and took her time to answer. "Well, I rested in between, you know... took a seat in the café nearby," she muttered. "I just needed some time alone." "Some time away from me?" he asked immediately, whilst turning his face towards the TV again. Krystal's eyes shot open. "N-no, of course not," she tried to say as casually as possible. She chuckled awkwardly. "I know you, Krystal Jung. If you don't want to be around anyone, you come home. The only reason why you would flight from our apartment is because of me." Krystal fell silent. Kai looked up at her and smiled weakly. She couldn't smile back, just stare. "And I think I know why," he said, as he stood up. Kai walked towards her and Krystal was suddenly aware how much taller he was than her. She had always thought of his height as attractive, but with only the TV to light the room, it made him look creepy. A chill ran down her spine. "Two days ago, you know, when we were... you, know, having sex. You really, really don't have to feel guilty that it didn't work. I had a great time, I always have a great time with you, no matter what," he said. Krystal opened her mouth to object — because he was thinking in such a wrong direction — but prevented herself from saying anything. Maybe it was better to just let him talk and live in a delusion than to break it to him now that he was probably the last person she wanted to have sex with. "You really don't have to feel guilty, Krystal. You're not broken and it's not weird. I have read about it online, you know, there are a lot of women who have diffeculty with.. you know, getting turned on." Krystal closed her mouth again and sighed. "I know I am not broken..." she said softly. She knew she wasn't and that she had no problem getting aroused either. Kai simply wasn't the right person. Krystal had always had that habit of only wanting sexual activity with a person she was in love with; she couldn't just jump on any man or woman just because she felt like having sex. And even though she trusted Kai, she couldn't get herself to think of him sexually. She had to be in love or it simply didn't work. And Amber made her feel everything she ever wanted to feel, whilst Kai was only just safe. He was home. His smell, his arms around her, his low voice. He was everything that made her feel safe. But Krystal didn't want to feel safe. She wanted those butterflies in her stomach and her heart pumping adrenaline through her body. She wanted her heart to make extra hours and her mind dazed, not being able to concentrate on anything when the other is so close. She felt like that around Amber, even though they hadn't seen each other for such a long time. Perhaps true love never dies. "-so never think any less of yourself. You please me enough not to want anyone else." Krystal jerked her head up, realizing that she had missed more than half of the speech Kai had been giving her. Supressing a sour expression, she nodded and showed a weak smile. Oh, if only you wanted someone else too... In the following weeks, Krystal led a secretive life, switching from her role as CEO to the accommodating, quiet fiancée to the adventurous lover. Her days consisted of going to work, seeing Amber at lunch — either because she brought her home made sandwiches or took her out for lunch if Krystal's scedule wasn't packed, which if often was — and quickly after work, going home to Kai, get dinner and quickly get to bed. Sometimes she made an excuse that she had a late meeting, so that she could see Amber. Her father often had ones too and it wasn't uncommon for a new business partner to only be available at moments which were either early in the morning or after normal working hours. Jung Internationals was trying to scedule Song Software to join them, but it was hard since the CEO was a stately woman with a straight back, an emotionless beautiful face and deep, dark eyes that looked like every single emotion had been sucked out of them. Krystal had been trained in keeping her emotions under control but this Victoria took it to a whole new level. She was a hard nut to crack and she tried to get everything out of the deal. But Krystal wouldn't be herself if she wouldn't try the same. So the two women kept battling. Kai was aware of the trouble with recruiting Song Software, so he never asked a single thing when she returned around midnight, tired out. And she didn't even need to lie. All the meetings with Victoria Song happened in the afternoon, so whatever happened at the meeting, she told Kai after she returned from her "meeting". On weekends, Krystal was forced to spend more time with her fiancée. And sometimes that just consisted of them going out for dinner or meeting up with his parents. That wasn't so bad. During the dinners she almost forgot that she was supposed to dump him soon. She remembered why she had agreed upon dating him in the first place. Kai wasn't the worst person to be around, and he still was her best friend. They had a lot of fun together. But as soon as the laughter died out, her heart started to yearn for Amber again. More often than not, she told Kai that she would meet up for Jessica for a girls' day out — and Kai being the typical man that he is, wouldn't dare to join them — whilst in fact she went to Amber. Krystal was stuck in a string of lies that kept going on and on and she knew she would have to stop sooner rather than later because the concequences would be even uglier if she was caught lying instead of admitting it. "So, who're shall I tell first? Dad or Kai?" Amber rose her eyebrows. "So you're gonna tell them?" she asked. Krystal pressed her body tighter to Amber's. The long lounge sofa had become their favorite spot to cuddle, especially on rainy, late Sunday afternoons. With the pillows from Amber's bed and a few blankets, they were nice and cozy at all times while they talked through things. "I think it's for the best. Better do it sooner rather than later, right?" Amber looked down to her and nodded, smiling approvingly. "Are you nervous?" she asked. Krystal let a long sigh escape from her lips. "Tell me something... Every time I try to make up a good conversation starter to break the ice, I panic and feel like throwing up," she muttered. Amber wrapped her arms around her body and pulled her closer, so Krystal could lay her head upon her shoulder. "You're overthinking again." "I am not." "Oh you definitely are. I never make up conversation starters in my head when I approach people. I just do it and don't think," Amber said proudly. The brunette rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay, but maybe it's handy to have like a strategy here because my father isn't some kind of random person who is charmed by my looks. He is going to want valid arguments, but I literally have none." "You are in love," Amber said, with a short shrug. "Yeah, that's exactly the reason dad wouldn't want to hear. He always told me that emotions cloud judgement and that love makes one weaker when it comes to getting the job done. A CEO should be completely focused on their job, bla-bla-bla, all that crap. Being in love would just mean that I have to get over my feelings and do what's right for the company and the family." Amber thought for a moment. "Then wouldn't it be wise to first secure your position as CEO, so that you don't have to get permission from your father anymore and just take over Jung Internationals?" Krystal let out a sound that was best described as a mix of a snicker and a sigh. "I'm getting Jung Internationals, my official title as CEO, as a wedding gift. And well, I am not going to marry Kai. That's the whole problem. So, who do you think I should approach first? Dad or Kai?" Amber sighed and rubbed with her fingers in her eyes. Krystal understood the feeling, she herself was getting a headache too. "Shall we just toss a coin? I mean, it’s gonna suck either way." Krystal chuckled and nodded. “I suppose you’re right. It’s gonna suck” She had chosen Kai. Eventually, they had both agreed to tell Kai first, since the wedding was coming up rather soon and she needed to blow it off before anything bad could happen. They already lost lots of money to the preparations, but Krystal couldn’t care less. Money was one of the things that mattered the least at the moment. Krystal had also chosen him first because she reckoned he would be the one who would take the news the best. Perhaps his mind would settle now too, since he finally had an answer to Krystal’s absentmindedness over last couple of weeks. Not to mention her overall unwillingness to be intimate with him. But telling Kai, her best friend for the past four years, was still tricky. He was bad in controlling his temper and Krystal knew for sure that there was going to be a fight. Nevertheless, she knew he’d never hurt her. He loved her too much for that. That didn’t take away her anxiousness though, she was still scared to death for his reaction. Krystal had never been able to take screaming people very well. They let a week pass, so they could prepare. “Do I need to go with you inside?” Amber asked her, when she dropped her off at her apartment building. Krystal smiled, kissed her cheek and shook her head. “This is something I really need to do alone, but I appreciate the offer.” “Then shall I wait for you here outside? If something goes wrong then you can-“ Krystal chuckled softly and shook her head again. “It’s going to be okay, I’m going to be fine. Go home, I’ll call you when he has settled down, okay?” Amber simply sighed dramatically and nodded. They kissed a final time before Krystal got out of Amber’s car and walked back home. Once she stood in the elevator, she didn’t feel that calm anymore. Her belly was tickling of nervousness and it made her sick to her stomach. Knowing that she would break Kai’s heart in a matter of minutes was hard to wrap your head around. In a few moments she would lose her best friend… But her mind was clear; the decision made; she would do it, no matter what. Finally, it was time to make her own happiness a priority. Krystal was painfully aware of her body and all the small movements it made. As soon as the doors of the elevator opened, she walked towards her own front door, aware of her own weight pressuring the floor beneath her. Slowly, she took out her keys, sought the right one, turned the lock and entered her apartment. As expected, Kai was waiting for her. Previously, they had decided to grab dinner with the two of them again. Not something fancy, just take out. Since Krystal's busy life as a cheater, she hadn't been able to spend much time with Kai anymore. She was either at work or as much as she could without making it look suspicious with Amber. He had also noticed that and had proposed a simple get together, just some pizza and a movie. It was a bit strange because Kai normally didn't eat fatty food, nor did she, and he wasn't a movie-person. Yet she had told him she would clear some time off of her scedule, mainly because she wanted this Saturday evening to be the night she would tell him. The pizza was still steaming hot. She had probably just missed the courier. Kai was already scrolling through their Netflix account that both of them barely used, looking for a movie he wouldn't end up watching either way. When she entered the apartment, he looked up, smiling brightly. Her fiancée got up from the couch and walked over to her to place a kiss on her cheek. With a weak smile she received it. "You already ordered?" she asked as she peeked over his shoulder to the two carton boxes on their coffee table. Kai shrugged. "I reckoned it'd arrive when you would, so we could eat immediately. I ordered your favorite, with paprikas and champignons." Krystal smiled at him and nodded. "Let me just change into something more comfertable," she said, as she signed towards the dress she was wearing. He laughed softly and nodded. "Don't make it too long, the pizza will grow cold." Krystal quickly hopped into their bedroom to take off her dress. Quickly she changed into her jogging pants and a loose t-shirt. It didn't happen often that Krystal Jung was found in her comfertable clothes. If she wasn't wearing her formal clothes, she still wore a blouse and tight jeans. Jogging pants were almost always out of question. She returned towards the living room. The smell of pizza made her belly growl, but she told herself that she probably wouldn't be eating pizza tonight. Kai's eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw her. Krystal's eyes shifted to the TV. "I thought we could maybe start a show together. I'm not much of a rom-com kind of person but I know you like these things so..." Kai said when he saw her look. The screen showed a show called 'You Me Her'. Krystal pressed her lips tightly upon each other. "Kai... I can't," she muttered. Kai looked up. "Do you not like this show? We can always watch something else or-" "No. It's not the movie. Or the pizza. Or you. I simply can't." Kai frowned confusedly. "You can't do what?" "Be with you," she forced out of her mouth. Her voice had turned hoarse now that she had to set more volume to it. The words felt like knives in her throat, scarring up her insides on their way out. Kai chuckled nervously. "Krystal, what do you mean?" She sighed and ran with her hand through her hair. With a heavy heart, she sat down next to him on the couch. She took his hands into hers. "I.. I need to tell you something... And I have been wanting to tell you this for quite a while. And I know you will be angry when you hear what I want to tell you." Kai took his hands back and stared at her in disbelief. "What is it, Krystal?" he demanded. She took a deep breath, pointed her eyes at the ground and bit down on her lip hard. Kai asked again but she barely heard it. "I have been having an affair." There was a silence. She didn't dare to look up to him, afraid for the expression on his face. Krystal fixated her gaze on a certain spot on the floor. "With who?" it eventually sounded. Kai seemed way too calm to be okay and it scared her for what was about to come. Krystal bit down on her lip. "Amber Liu." This time, the silence endured longer than the one before. Much longer. A minute, maybe two passed before he said anything. "The party..." he only muttered. "You have been... since the party?" Krystal formed fists with her hand when she nodded. Suddenly, Kai stood up from the couch and walked away. Krystal's head jerked up. She saw how Kai had walked towards the kitchen counter. He placed his hands upon the edge, his head hung low. She could see his muscles underneath his blouse tighten every time he breathed shakily. Krystal wanted to get up to reassure him, to help him, to comfort him, but before she could, Kai looked back to her. His gaze burned right through her façade to her soul. His eyes had darkened dangerously and when Krystal returned his look, she could feel all of his anger vibrating off of him. With his hair down, casting a shadow over his face, he looked more like a devil than ever. He formed fists with his hands. Krystal widened her eyes startled. Even though he didn’t say anything, she hadn’t seen him so angry ever before. “Tell me this is a lie, Krystal,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. Krystal was completely dumb-found. “I-I..” she stuttered. She had a hard job to control the growing bubble of panic in her belly. With every heartbeat it seemed to get worse. “TELL ME IT’S A LIE!” Kai bellowed. Tears started to leak out of her eyes. “I can’t..” she sniffled. Her fiancée stared at her with a strange expression, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Krystal looked away and pulled her legs up on the couch. “I love her, Kai.. I always have and I thought I had gotten over her but-“ “You thought,” Kai spat towards her, as if the words tasted like poison on her tongue. Krystal cringed at his tone. “You thought you had fallen out of love. You thought it’d be a good idea to date me instead. You thought you wouldn’t fall in love again but you did,”he growled. “Is that what you thought, Krystal?” She nodded, tears streaming over her face. Yes.. yes she had indeed thought all of that. She had wanted it to be true, it’d be so much easier if her feelings for Kai were just true.. But they weren’t. Kai huffed. His fist connected with the fridge, making a hollow sound fill the room. He didn’t even flinch at the pain. “How could you do that to me? Don’t you know I’d do everything for you?” he screamed at her. “I love you!” Krystal sniffled and tried to wipe her tears away. New ones simply replaced the old ones. “I can’t control my own heart, Kai,” she tried, but Kai shook his head. “No, loving someone is not something you cannot influence. You could’ve just stopped seeing her! You could’ve cut her off and done what’s best for yourself, for us!” “But I can’t… I have done that all of my life, Kai,” she sobbed desperately. “I can’t do that anymore or I’d kill myself. I can’t live like that anymore. I need someone-“ “YOU HAVE ME!” “But that’s not enough! I need Amber, Kai. I need her otherwise I won’t survive.” They were both breathing hard and fast, staring at each other in utter helplessness. “So now you’re telling me you want to be with her instead? That low-classed, rude, scruffy-looking, filthy lesb-“ “Don’t call her that,” Krystal warned. She was surprised by the sureness in her voice. Even though her eyes were still wet and her body was still shaking, her mind was clear and she wouldn’t want Kai to ever speak of Amber like that. But he just laughed. He laughed at her. “And why the hell not? Is she not the fucking lesbian that stole my fiancée? She did something to you, right? Did she touch you? She fucking touched you, did she not? Nowadays everyone is a damned lesbian and now they stole you too. If I ever see her again-“ “The only one who touched me against my will was you, Kai!” Krystal screamed back. This seemed to take him back a bit. He stared at her, with wide eyes. For a moment, a silence settled between them, that was only broken by Krystal’s panting. “Take that back,” he eventually demanded. “Take that back, Krystal. I always asked you, you always wanted to.” Krystal showed him a weak smile. “I never wanted to.” Kai’s face went blank. “And you do want to with her?” he asked. Krystal nodded and sighed. She wiped the tears off of her face and she ran with her hand through her hair. Krystal bit down hard on her lip. “I’m out.” Kai had already turned around when Krystal’s head shot up. He walked over to the door, grabbed his coat and his shoes, putting them on swiftly. “No, Kai, wait-“ “There is no need, Krystal. I know when I’m not wanted,” he barked at her, before closing the front door with a bang behind him. Krystal flinched at the sound. With a sigh, she let herself fall back onto the couch and curled herself up in a small ball; she was still shaking. The smell of pizza had worn off and so had the hunger in her belly. Instead an empty feeling washed over her. Almost an hour later, she remembered that she had promised to call Amber after the fight was over. By now, her tears had dried up and the hungry feeling had returned. She had eaten a few slices, after warming the pizza up again – it had grown cold in the meantime. She typed in Amber’s number, since she knew it by heart, and pressed the phone against her ear. The device rang a few times, before it got picked up. “Hey..” Amber muttered, at the other side of the line. Her voice was hoarse. “Hey, the fight’s over. Ah well, it ended a while ago, I just forgot to call,” she said. Amber made a ‘hmm’-sound. “How did it go?” “It sucked. Kai left and he won’t pick up his phone, though. I don’t know where he is.” “He probably… need to cool down a bit..” Amber replied. “I suppose so. Don’t all men need to? Either way, shall I come over? I’m really in need for a hug right now.” “Ehm, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Krystal frowned. “What? Why not?” Amber let a nervous chuckle escape her mouth. “You know, I’m working and such. It’s better if you’re not there. I’d get embarrassed, you know-“ she quickly said. “No, I can just wait? Prepare us a meal? Watch a movie? I won’t bother you,” she said. Amber cleared her throat. Her voice turned normal again, but it still seemed like it hurt her to talk. “Really, Krystal, believe me, it’s better if-“ “I’m coming over right now, bye!” Krystal said, before ending the call abruptly. She took her coat and shoes – didn’t even bother to change – and walked out of the apartment. Krystal immediately raced off in her car. It took her only ten minutes to get from her apartment to Amber's, even though it was a 20 minute drive. When she had called her, Amber's voice had sounded so unsettling, as if she wanted to hide something. Krystal couldn't help herself to immediately think that there was something wrong. Perhaps she was back with Luna and that was why she didn't want her to come over. When people cheated, didn't they usually use the lie of having to work, whilst they in reality spent time with their lover? Krystal herself had done that too. It wouldn't even surprise her. Luna was the ultimate girlfriend. She was caring and bubbly, lovable and had a spicy edge. She dared to open her mouth and didn't have diffecult family to deal with. She was Amber's collegue so they spent a lot of time together, especially when Amber was working on new songs for Luna's album. She was pretty and well-known with a good sum of money to her name. Luna was the perfect girlfriend. Krystal parked her car swiftly in front of Amber's apartment building. Her heart was racing in her chest. Even though she was burning to find out what was wrong with Amber, she was also very afraid. Maybe... maybe it indeed was Luna. Would she even want to know if it was Luna? She broke up with Kai, there was nothing to go back to now. If Amber was having an affair with Luna too, then she had sacrificed everything for nothing. The elevator ride seemed to last forever. Once the doors opened, Krystal almost ran outside. She just had enough dignity left to keep it on walking fastly. The door to Amber's apartment was closed, which was unusual. Whenever Amber was home, she let the front door open for her. Awkwardly, she rang the bell. Krystal wrapped her arms around her body while she was waiting. Her teeth caught her lower lip between them. Eventually, the door slowly opened.. Krystal looked up, for a moment unable to breathe. Krystal placed her hand in front of her mouth that had fallen open. "What happened to your face...?!" she breathed in horror. Amber groaned and let her into the apartment. She couldn't stop looking at her face, still with a horrid expression on her face. "Dear God..." Amber's face looked terrible. Her right eye had turned sickly purple. The whole skin around it was swollen, causing her right eye to be almost swollen shut. Her lip was bloody and the wound was still open. There was dried up blood underneath her nose. "I told you not to come..." Amber muttered, as she rubbed the back of her head. Krystal slowly let her hand fall. "Well obviously it was the right choice. Who the heck did this to you?" she demanded. Amber let herself fall on her couch and groaned of pain when she buried her face in the pillows. She murmured something which Krystal couldn't understand, but it sounded a lot like... "Kai?" "Yes... Your fiancée..." Amber muttered, as she looked up from the pillows. Krystal sat down next to her and helped her to sit up right. She growned; obviously her whole body hurted. "Did you know he took lessons in karate? Because I found out as soon as he started," Amber murmered bitterly. Krystal bit her lip. "I knew he took lessons as a kid but I didn't know he was this good... oh Amber, I'm so sorry... I didn't know he'd do somehing like that," Krystal said softly. It took a lot of power and skills to overpower Amber Josephine Liu. Krystal knew all about her past and she knew Amber had some skills in street fighting. Kai must've either taken by surprise or really, really hit her hard. Even though Amber knew how to fight, she was still a woman and women had less muscles than men. Especially because Kai almost daily worked out in the gym and took extra supplies to build muscle mass. Amber sighed. "It's not your fault." Krystal lifted her hand to lightly touch Amber's eye. At first, the other woman tried to turn away, but seemed to realize that Krystal wouldn't hurt her and let her touch the sore spot. Nevertheless, she gritted her teeth when Krystal let the tip of her finger trail over the sensitive skin. "It is... I should have never let him get out of the apartment," she muttered. Amber shook her head. "He needed something to distract him, someone to blame for what has happened. I suppose I could've seen this coming. Gotta admit I still don't like it that he messed up my face though," Amber sighed. "Could you perhaps get me some of that bruise paste I have in my bathroom. I used to have a blue eye ninety percent of the time in college so I kept the tube." "Y-yes of course!" Krystal immediately blurted out. She ran towards the bathroom and sought for the tube. It took her a few minutes but eventually she returned. She put some on her finger and started to apply it on Amber's face. She groaned softly, but the longer Krystal went on, the more her moans turned into sighs. The paste relieved some of the pain, it was probably numbing. "You should go after him, you know, talk things through... so my other eye won't turn out blue as well," Amber said. Krystal sighed and nodded. "It didn't turn out as smooth as I thought it would... he got very angry," she sighed. Tiredness suddenly washed over her and she finally felt how much energy the fight had drained from her. Amber's gaze softened and she pulled Krystal in a hug. "Can't I stay here for tonight? I don't want to go home.." Amber planted a kiss on her head and nodded. "You can stay as long as you like." Krystal sighed and nodded. She let her head rest against Amber's shoulder and let her be hugged. Later that evening, when Krystal had already fallen asleep on the couch a couple of times, Amber carried her to bed. Woken up by the sudden change of room, she let Amber tuck her in. She couldn't help to watch her when she undressed. Amber – being under the impression that she was already asleep again – didn't notice her gaze wandering over her body when she took off her shirt. Seeing the fresh bruises on her ribcase as well, Krystal bit her lip hard. With every move she made, Amber seemed to groan of pain. She wondered how she ever could've carried her to the bedroom... Amber put on another shirt, but the bruises seemed to almost light up underneath the fabric now that Krystal had seen them and knew they were there. The fact that Amber hadn't showed them to her when she was treating her with the bruise paste made her realize that Amber was probably a bit ashamed that she hadn't been able to stop Kai when he had leaped at her. It saddened her that she tried to keep that hidden from her. That's why she turned around to face her as soon as Amber got in the bed. The other girl shuddered. "You startled me! I thought you were sleeping already," Amber exclaimed. Her face immediately turned guilty, knowing all too well that she had been caught. Krystal nudged closer to her and let her fingers trail towards the edge of her shirt, slowly lifting it up. "Can I see?" she asked softly. Amber sighed and nodded. Krystal prepped herself up on one elbow and lifted Amber's shirt with the other. When she exposed the bruises again, she couldn't help but sigh. "I didn't want to concern you.." Amber muttered. Krystal turned her eyes away from the bruises and into her eyes. She smiled weakly. "Could you please don't lie to me... after all that has happened, eight years ago, I can't-" "I'm sorry," Amber immediately said. Krystal nodded, her smile slowly faltering. The other girl took her closer, pressing a kiss on her lips. And suddenly, a great need of wanting to kiss her washed over her when their lips collided for a second. Amber had just pecked her lips, but Krystal came back wanting more. She kissed Amber softly and she immediately got the hint. Kissing her like that felt like kissing clouds; her lips so soft; her scent clouding her mind. Krystal was careful enough not to place her hands anywhere near her hips in case of hurting her, but kept them cupped around her cheek. Amber kissed her back lovingly. There was nothing sexual to the kiss because they knew that tonight would be very inconvenient. They didn't want to turn tonight about sex. They just wanted each other and each other's love. That's what they wanted and that's what they got. The kiss made Krystal feel like the world was right at her feet. And when they broke up and snuggled against each other, Krystal spooned Amber. Usually, she was the little spoon, mostly because she was tinier than Amber and she was the less progressive one. But now that Amber was hurting, she wanted to give her the same feeling Amber always gave her when they slept together: the feeling of secureness in the other's arms. So, as soft as she could, Krystal placed her arm around her body. With a sigh, she placed her head on the pillow. Her eyes fell shut immediately. But there was still a single thought left clouding her mind, keeping her from falling asleep immediately. "Amber... I love you," she muttered. She felt Amber stir for a moment. "I should've said that eight years ago and I was stupid that I waited too long. I want you to know now. If something happens in the days to follow, then you at least know." Amber let out a little chuckle. "I love you too, Krystal. Don't ever forget that."

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