#her body languae

[eccentrcks]

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐎𝐂: 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞.

This gorgeous artwork of Marlene was made by my talented baby sister. Give her some applause for this! 🫶 I also made a taglist out of boredom, so don't mind me. Taglist to those who inspired me to make this profile and ref. sheet: @revnah1406, @welldonekhushi, @littlemissclandestine, @alypink, and @darkhazard19.

⎯ 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡:

Name: Marlene

Full Name: Marlene Jamie Monroe

Alias(es): "Mona" (General nickname by her family), "Marlie" (childhood nickname), "Chicky" (Captain Price), "Squirt" or "Baby Girl" (Phillip Graves), "Marl" (David Mason).

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Irish, Native American, Welsh.

Hair Colour: Chestnut brown.

Eye Colour: Light brown

Height: 5’11” (181cm)

Weight: 187lbs (84.8kg)

Body Built: Athletically average.

Languages Spoken: English, Irish, Gaelic, Welsh, Cree, Spanish, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Bulgarian, Mandarin, French, German, Portuguese, etc.

Date of Birth: August 29, 2002.

Place of Birth: Fairbanks, Alaska.

Blood Type: AB-

Sexuality: Heterosexual.

Marital Status: Single

Occupation: N/A.

Status: Unknown.

-

⎯ 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗦:

Myers-Briggs Type: INTJ-T (The Architect)

Calm and reserved: Despite having her moments of being a spitfire, she is actually a well composed individual and this really helps her in matters of survival. Although pretty social sometimes, then she can be completely asocial, Marlene is not exactly the kind of person who wouldn't instantly show her actual personality to others whom she'd just met. She handles stressful situations with the pressure very well most of time.

Selfless and loyal: Marlene may be an impassive and hardened young woman, but she has a good soul and heart. Those who are lucky to be a genuine friend of hers are privileged to see her display her true self at most times. Has the tendency to put others before herself. Marlene's love language is giving gifts, acts of service, and physical touch- which the latter is a rare thing of her to do frequently as a young adult now. Keeps it discreet though.

Tough as nails: She is unbelievably durable and endures a lot of life-threatening situations. Often gets underestimated by others, but tends to straighten them up with a surprise. It still hurts, yes, although she just quickly learns how to suck it up and keep going without letting it drag her down.

Jaded and weary: It's safe to mention that Marlene didn't had a normal childhood and went through a lot of hardships growing up with a paranoid survivalist of a mother. Kind of a sore spot for her to be asked about. Has a bad case of PTSD and denies her clinical diagnoses constantly. ("I'm fine." is her favourite saying) Has a complex relationship with her mother, her only parent that raised her this way, which means Marlene cares and resents her at the same time, yet she internally respects the woman who taught her most of everything she knows. She suffered from losses who were dearly significant to her... somethings she isn't ready to openly talk about. So the girl is just simply exhausted from existing.

Adaptable and intelligent, also a polyglot: If thrown into an environment that Marlene hadn't been in before, she will learn and adapt if it's necessary. Growing up traveling with her mother had taught her some things. She's quite a multilingual genius, speaks and read around 37(ish) languages, but also graduated high school at sixteen before attending Stanford University and finishing in three years for her computer science degree. So in a shorter summary, she's an eager and fantastic learner.

-

⎯ 𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗔𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗦:

Primary Weapons: Knife, Karambit neck knife, Remington 700PSS, HK-MP5K, HK-MP5A3, TP-82, XM177E1, and Pipe Bombs.

Fighting Style: Hand-to-hand combat, some MMA.

Special Skills: Great at reading others' body languages and sensing danger.

Talents: She can learn to speak at another language in a short span of time, craft explosives such as a pipe bomb within an hour if she has the resources, and create traps with the right stuff.

Shortcomings: Can get paranoid most of the time, chronically insomniac, has some trust issues, and suffers from terrible migraines.

-

⎯ 𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬:

"Born and grew up outside of Fairbanks in an isolated cabin for five years of her life with her mother, who had Marlene at eighteen, and mostly traveled around on the road after. She grew up with tough love and Melissa, her mother, was fiercely overprotective with her only child. Once they settled somewhere in California when she was eight where Marlene finally got enrolled in a public school where her peers would eventually learn about her intellect. She never knew how, or where, her mother earned her huge incomes to financially support themselves, but knows Melissa just has an every important job whenever she isn't home. Besides, whenever her mother was confronted, she was just met with a firm look by her and the woman stating that it's none of her concern as Marlene should just focus on herself. Eventually this led to her rebellious behaviour before incidents occurred and slowly shaped Marlene into a withdrawn teenager in college."

"Her history with Taskforce 141 was purely platonic. Met them through her mother, one by one when she was an teenager, before the group realized she was Melissa's baby girl and they all knew the same woman who met each of them outside of their occupations. She've met Phillip Graves when she was a kid when he came by to confront her mother before a father-daughter bond was formed between them since then. David Mason is her godfather and one of the people whom Marlene looks up to- much to Graves' dismay."

"When she was done with college at nineteen and the year 2021-[REDACTED]."

"Until 2022, she was brought into the CIA's custody in middle of a late evening walk, more like by Taskforce 141, and interrogated after some evidence of her was caught stealing some invaluable intel and secrets, appearing as one of their employees, before she was picked up by a black van after that. She kept denying the accusations and evidence for weeks until Graves, allegedly dead at the time, safely liberated her despite Marlene being in a frail condition with the help from David Mason and proof that she was truly innocent. Someone had framed her."

"Then not too long hours after she was brought into his protective custody, no one knew who helped her other than the fact that she escaped CIA's custody, as one of The Shadow Company's bases was attacked. Mostly everyone made it out, but Marlene who was soon announced dead after she passed out from the blood loss with the base getting bombed into nothing once they were forced to leave her behind. Leaving Graves and David angry, distraught, and vowed to avenge her once they find the culprits. Her remains were never found after that."

Theme song: Methods of Madness by Secession Studios.

*Profile will be be updated once the story progresses and kept her backstory vague(ish) for now.

#cod oc #cod oc: marlene monroe #my oc #call of duty oc #call of duty #cod #cod bocw #cod black ops #cod mw2 #cod mw3

[thenightfolknetwork]

Due to a combination of bad genes and bad luck, I suffer from various physical and mental difficulties and pains. Technically I count as disabled, but the term has never felt right for me; it doesn't FEEL like the problem is in my body and brain, even though I know it is, it feels more like the world rearranges itself to be just a bit harder for me than for other people. This isn't something I've talked about much, it's always seemed like it would be horribly rude, plus I have more important issues to work on with my therapist than "how much a particular word does or does not match how I parse my subjective experience".

Then I came across an expression, and for the first time, something felt like it fit. "Cursed by a wizard". It's not that I lose energy quickly, it's that I've been cursed with fatigue; to give one example. I know it's not literally true. Even aside from my diagnoses and symptoms and treatments, a year or so back I got screened as part of a workplace health and safety initiative, and no curses. Still, it's not like the language we use is literally true all of the time; expressions exist for a reason.

You know how it is, whenever you find something cool and new, you want to share it with everyone. Nobody else cared as much as I did, of course, but general reactions were polite, "I'm glad you've found something that works for you". Except for one person, who immediately got a Look on her face -- the kind you get when a foreigner says a word they don't know is a slur over here, or when someone bad-mouths a person they don't realize is nearby -- and changed the subject.

I'm not going to change how I think about myself. "Cursed by a wizard" is a useful mental framework. However, my question is whether it should stay solely within my own mind. I'm worried now that it might be insensitive to people who've actually been cursed, or to wizards.

Thank you for getting in touch, reader. I have one small point to make regarding the start of your letter, particularly regarding the word “disabled”.

To be clear, you are absolutely entitled to your own personal relationship with the term, and I don't mean to suggest that you need to adopt it if you don't feel it reflects your experience. However, I don't agree that “the problem” is in your body and brain. It is, as you say, in the way the world is arranged to make life that much more difficult for you.

A framing I have seen from some disability activists is to speak of themselves as disabled by society, rather than by their condition. They don't consider disability to be a trait in and of itself, but a condition put upon them by an ableist society.

I don't know if this framing is a helpful one for you personally, and as I said, I don't wish to tell you how you “ought” to describe yourself. But I wanted to mention it as a possible alternative way of thinking, in case it proves useful to you.

But that, I know, was not the point of your letter. Unfortunately, reader, I don't have a clear cut answer for you. People who have been cursed are not a uniform group – neither their experiences, nor the way they speak about those experiences, are identical.

The fact is, yes, some people will be offended by your use of “the wizard's curse” to describe your experiences. Others will find it an expressive, even entertaining way of viewing your situation.

You also run the risk that some people will simply not understand the metaphorical nature of your statement, so please be prepared for those well-meaning folk who hear this and immediately start recommending salt baths and smoke cleanses.

I can reassure you that this is not a term that carries any particular historical reason to avoid its usage – it isn't comparable to such out-dated idioms as referring to public outcry as a “witch hunt” or the use of the phrase “Frankenstein's monster” when speaking of a messy, difficult situation, and implicitly associating reanimation with negativity and failure.

Instead, it is rather like the English language use of the word “slimy” to mean “dishonest” or “morally corrupt”. Certainly some people see the usage as offensive, but it isn't actually rooted in any specific anti-liminal sentiment and those voices are the minority.

In fact, some people argue that it is more offensive to assume “slimy” must somehow be associated with people of viscosity. But I think we are getting rather into the weeds of what is, to be honest, a largely online debate with very little real-world application.

In short, reader, it is up to you how you proceed. You need to decide for yourself whether you're comfortable with the ambiguity of your language and with the diverse ways you may be interpreted.

There are rarely any clear cut answers on the topic of language, and it may be that your feelings on the matter change over time. But the fact remains that only you can decide how best to describe yourself, and only you have the power to make this decision.

#the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies #answered

[redundant2]

Eugenie's alleged secret

Above photo. Beatrice's fancy-dress 18th birthday party at Windsor.

TRIGGER WARNING - please do NOT read further if you have a sensitive nature.

The below alleged tea makes me sad, if true. My mind went to a dark place when I read it.

"Eugenie and Hasbeen were friends as teenagers. She told him something back then and, I suspect, he told the ILBW. That's the hold they have over Eugenie. I don't think Eugenie's husband even knows this secret."

Alleged rapist/disgraced Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell attended Beatrice's 18th fancy-dress birthday party.

Weinstein and Fergie at Soho House

Weinstein and Eugenie at Soho House 2016

Kelsey Grammer, Weinstein and Eugenie at Soho House. Her body languae here looks...uncomfortable.

I feel nauseous. If anything at all went on that was inappropriate with PA and/or any of his associates, this young woman needs all the prayers that could be sent. I pray she finds peace and happiness.

#royal family tea #trigger warning #prince andrew

[aohendo]

30 Days, 30 Lines, Round 2

Day 19?

For context, Kiris is about to take tea with giant hawks and the Turre empress.

“No guards,” the guard said, in Turre Palla.

Kiris flared his hand at his side, and Aris stopped immediately. “Wait for me outsi—”

 “No Novgor,” the guard said.

“Excuse me?”

“No Novgor,” the guard repeated. “It shall not taint her presence.”

He still couldn’t have heard the guard right. Definitely not, because it felt his head was heating as his body ran cold. Slowly, his fingers curled into his palms. “’Novgor’ isn’t a langua—”

“No. Novgor.”

#princeforhire #30d30lr2 #30 days 30 lines #wip #writblr #writerblr #writeblr

[finishinglinepress]

NEW FROM FINISHING LINE PRESS: Birds of the Midwest by Jane Hufford Downes

PREORDER NOW: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/birds-of-the-midwest-by-jane-hufford-downes/

The award winning poems of Jane Hufford Downes have appeared in journals and anthologies. Her poetry is informed by observation of the rhythms of the natural world as she embraces the elusive mystery of daily miracles. Previous poetry collections include What I Assume and Notes Between Friends. Jane lives in Minnesota and enjoys birding on the trails of parks and nature preserves throughout the Midwest.

Website: Janehufforddownespoetry.com

Facebook: Poetry of Jane Hufford Downes

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR Birds of the Midwest by Jane Hufford Downes

In Birds of the Midwest, poet Jane Hufford Downes reminds us that “[n]ature only asks that we love / by paying attention.” And, indeed, these poems—careful observations of warblers, cranes, and robins who refuse to leave their home in winter—sing a hymn of wonder. Hufford Downes writes with precision. Her images are exact and arresting; her metaphors open new doorways between our “mud-bound” existence and the bird, who’s free to “hurl[] herself into the wind.” With a wisdom grounded in both the earth and our own impermanence, Hufford Downes watches the birds to learn how to live. Birds of the Midwest is a salve.

–Ranae Lenor Hanson, author of Watershed: Attending to Body and Earth in Distress

Readers of “Birds of the Midwest” will live more deeply today, chart their paths more graciously toward forever. The 23 lyrical poems in Jane Hufford Downes’s collection fly toward the eternal by focusing on detail. Reminding readers that “crows colonize the edges,” she meditates on hummingbirds and warblers who dip and dive among the ubiquitous crows. Nature, Downes says, “asks that we love/ by paying attention.” Steeped in specifics, the poems open into gentle, humor-threaded philosophy: “things change, sometimes even for the better.” Downes describes her wheelchair “mud-bound to Earth”; later, she writes, “On some future day, I will return. A particle of dust becoming prairie, whispering in the breeze, nurturing clover which feeds the buzz and lift of a bumblebee, and who, in turn, becomes lunch for a crow.” Mud-bound ourselves, we readers lift off with Downes and her birds.

–Chelsea B. DesAutels, author of A Dangerous Place

Jane Hufford Downes focuses her attention in this collection on the delights and mysteries of bird life. As she explores their origin in dinosaurs, the wonders of their migration “chasing the northern edge of spring,” and the “absurd beauty of the world,” she seeks—and finds—”music that resonates in your bones.” Anyone who enjoys the natural world, and birding in particular, is sure to find treasures within this volume.

–Julie Cadwallader Staub, author of Wing Over Wing: Poems, Paraclete Press, 2019.

Bird watching requires the same sort of patient attention as writing poetry. In this collection of poems, Jane Downes displays how she has cultivated the skills of careful observation and stillness needed for both. Through her writing, she has done what the Great Mother asks birds to do: “listen to the Silence / until music resonates in your bones.” The poet’s quest for big human truths grows naturally from her detailed studies of birds: their flight and apparent freedom, their resilience as they “hurl (themselves) into the wind,” their indomitable spirit and the way they “accept resurrection.” She blends science with prayer, allowing what she learns from birds to show the reader glimpses of the unknowable. Though she is “mud-bound to Earth,” for Ms. Downes, birds have become “magical prophets, fallen angels, messengers of gods” who can lift us up if we take the time to pay attention. This is a writer for whom a wingtip can be the center of the universe, what is improbable can also be true, and awe is something that helps us endure. Reading these poems reminds me of birdsong itself – a mysterious language that somehow speaks of hope.

–Joanne Esser, author of the poetry collections Humming at the Dinner Table and I Have Always

Wanted Lightning

Please share/repost #flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #read #poems #literature #poetry

#poetry #preorder #flp authors #flp #poets on tumblr #american poets #chapbook #leah maines #women poets #chapbooks #finishing line press #small press #book cover #books #publishers #poets #poem #smallpress #poems #binderfullofpoets #birds

[mikami]

hey there!!! i was thinking lately about the possibility of misa's way of perhaps relying on her cutesy/pretty/sexy aspect as a conscious or unconscious act of survival.

we know about the concrete traumatizing life changing experiences she's lived through. i wonder how safe it is to especulate what else she has gone through as a young woman who is a model.

& im curious abt your understanding of this aspect of her-- how do you think the way she presents herself to the world & others (both in personality & appearance) relates to her job? to the construction of the self as a product of consumption (especially w like i said, misa being a woman)?

does misa perform these things as a way to neutralize the harm of violence at the hands of men?

I'm not sure I would call it 'survival' exactly, but oh my god, Misa and gender performance is such an interesting topic.

I personally wouldn't headcanon further active violence into her backstory than we have been shown - I feel that if we're shown a characters formative traumatic experience (family death, stalking) that it's to give us a fairly complete picture of their life and motivations.

But at the same time, society is full of what I will now arbitrarily call 'passive violence' in the way women are put at a disadvantage. And definitely, her whole cutesy persona is in dialogue with that hostile world, navigating it and taking advantage of it.

I think Misa is an interesting case, because she is somebody who both entirely internalized gender roles for herself unquestioned and is deeply aware of how being perceived as a woman hinders or helps her in any given situation.

Like, on the one hand Misa is sexist society's wet dream. She is somebody who very sincerely believes that her place and fulfillment as a woman is at the side of a prince charming. She is completely convinced that her purpose lies in a relationship with a man.

Even though she's not the 'good wife' stereotype due to being a fashion subculture kind of girl (see: the Yagami parents' disdain of her), she's still holding these values close to her heart.

On the other hand, the way she weaponizes the perception people have of her is immediately front and center in her intro scene.

The VIZ translation here drives me mildly insane because the Japanese term she uses to describe herself here is "純粋な子" which in this context should roughly translate to 'pure young woman'.

It's not "Kira is nice to his supporters" but more along the line of "Kira is nice to good little girls". Misa knows she seems harmless on first sight. She knows her existence as a pretty frail teenage girl makes her an object of protective instinct to most men. But at the same time she juxtaposes it with the knowledge that she isn't just what she seems - as much as she adores Kira, she is perfectly confident that on the Death Note user power scale she's higher up.

Misa is fully aware that as an idol, she's a product to be sold. And that is where she personally finds her power - she doesn't protest female stereotypes and prejudice, she acts within those parameters to grab power from men unnoticed.

We see this most in her interactions with the Yotsuba Group, particularly Higuchi. Misa is aware she is desirable and she weaponizes that desirability against him. Presenting as cute, naive, soft and thoroughly attractive gives her power of manipulation. It is the capital she is used to bargaining with at all times.

In response to a world that is predisposed to take her less seriously because she's a dainty pretty girl, Misa has decided to intentionally curate that exact reputation for herself - only to then be able to use it to get her way. She's cute because men who want to get into her pants will do her favors. She's cute because how could anyone be mad at such a cute young woman acting selfishly?

I feel like we see that in her body language with Light - when he doesn't react as expected to her coming to see him against his wishes, she doubles down on the sweet body language and the "teehee, I am just an emotional little girl, you can't be mad at my pure lovey dovey feelings" act.

It's a neat mix because on the one hand: she clearly believes this about herself. She genuinely does think being a cute lovey dovey girl is her biggest purpose on this Earth. She genuinely enjoys being an attractive young woman (we see her dress up and act cutesy when she is by herself in her apartment after all). This is the self that she sincerely wants for herself.

But on the other hand she is so clearly aware of its impact. Her status as a product to be consumed is a constant bargaining chip.

Most heartbreakingly and extremely seen in the time after she loses her memories of being Kira and desperately attempts to buy her freedom by promising parts of herself to the assumed stalker.

Less heartbreakingly and more girlboss-y in interaction with the Yotsuba Eight, as mentioned before:

Self-objectification is an active practice of subverting power to Misa - exercising power without being seen as powerful and thus escaping the watchful eyes of those who could feel threatened by her.

#answers #misa amane #death note #luna thinks

[cirilee]

I have to ask some questions cause I'm really curious. Did Megatron have a fling as a gladiator that resulted in Bee? Did he have a partner before Optimus who he really did love but he lost contact with her when the war started? Or maybe she died and Bee was given to Ratchet and Optimus? Would he have feelings for Bees old mom (if she was still alive may be dead or lost to the stars) or is he more focused on getting Bee to like him now? Also how did he find out??? :0

I love your art and am obsessed with this a.u so much. ❤💛💚💙💜❤

( Also imagine SoundWave teaching Megatron sign languae so he can "bond" with his son but warning him that Bumblebee probabaly won't like him and this is a bad idea )

!!! Ahh sorry for replying to this ask so late !!

megatron is curious, now that he knows that bee's mom is an assassin (?) and she's called Nightbird? who is this woman?

but mostly he's just horrified that his body was used without his consent that way (although that's certainly a double standard megs, please consider how this makes you feel and what you do to your henchmen on a daily basis)

LOVE the idea that soundwave teaches him sign language!

megatron does genuinely want to bring bee on his side, now that he knows of the connection. the feeling is not mutual tho ;_;

thank you so so much for this super sweet ask !!!!

[ally22042000]

Linked by fate

Introduction

Werewolf AU

Fluff, Angst

OT7 x Reader

Pack Alpha: Namjoon

Alpha: Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook

Beta: Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung

Omega: Y/N

Wordcount: 2K

A/N: Hobi’s got kind of long 😊. I hope you like this. I had this idea in my head for a while and would love to write more pieces about them and their journey. Pls tell me what you think about it and you can always leave requests if there are certain things you’d like to read. -Ally

It has always been the eight of you. Since your childhood you were inseparable. A bond was created whose strength and depth was unknown to most. A phase, everybody thought, that was going to fade away the older you would get. The longing for independence was supposed to fill your minds and draw you apart from each other. A prediction that since this day has not occurred.

Namjoon, the born alpha, who one day will take over his mother’s pack and be the leader everyone imagined him to be. He has shown his ability to take care of others, since a young age. Like that time in Taehyung’s first year of elementary school. He never told the others about the bullies at school who made is life a living hell simply because he had a different approach to most tasks. They declared him as weird and treated him like an outsider.

The leader picked up on his change in behaviour quickly, noticing that the six-year-old started speaking less and only answering questions that were specifically direct at him. A one-eighty to his usual happy and chattery personality. He picked the younger boy up from school the next day and walked in on a scene that made his blood run cold. Three boys were standing above Tae, the little wolf covering on the floor, his painting crushed under the tallest foot.

A growl left the alpha and before Namjoon knew what had happened, he had shifted for the first time. Four paws running across the school grounds scaring of the three kids, that knew they didn’t stand a chance against the son of the cities pack alpha. It was the first time Namjoon had to stand up for one of his members and seeing Taehyung on the floor in front of him, tears glistening on his round cheeks and admiration shining in his eyes as he petted the brown wolf in front of him, he knew, he would do anything to keep his pack safe.

Seokjin, as the medic of the group, was an important asset. Always patched up the maknae line when they were rough housing as you were all growing into your hierarchical roles and pheromones were going wild. Or that one time an older she-wolf had pushed you to the ground during Junior High, saying you were too young to play with them. Quickly you had gotten up and pulled on her hair, which resulted in her running her nails over your face and leaving scratches on your cheek and chin. Her teacher broke up the fight and you were both send home. 

After the scolding of your parents, Jin was called over and addressed your wounds. Nothing major had to be done and at the and you and the beta fell asleep watching a movie in your living room. Your faced buried in his neck, in haling the familiar mixture between wood and rice, which had always been able to calm you down.

Yoongi, who always napped in the corner during kindergarten and growled at anyone who annoyed him. But he was always more bark than bit. Unless the situation called for it of course. In elementary he shifted his nap place beneath the tree on the playgrounds. Enjoying the shade as a brise tousled his dark brown fur. Jungkook loved to sneak up on the elder and pull his ears, then quickly escape his nip and giggling while Yoongi chased him around the tree. Seokjin calling from the seesaw that he would not patch up any injuries. A smile bright on his face.

Hoseok, the glue of your group, as the son of your pack’s master of fight he was born with an amount of agility and skill like none of you. Nobody believed that the little sunshine boy could arise to the role assign but whenever the necessity arouse Hobi proved to everyone what a skilled fighter and wolf he was and that he was able to protect his pack.

You remember it clearly, that day Jimin and you went for a run. It had only been a few weeks since the both of you turned for the first time, so walking on for legs was still a hurdle to overcome. You weren’t allowed to leave the grounds of your pack; it was too dangerous considering that you still couldn’t protect yourself in this form. But you didn’t care, choosing to enjoy the freedom you had and testing your limits in this new form.

Unaware of the presence watching you, analysing your movements and swiftly deciding, that you both were an easy match. One second you were pulling on Jimin’s tail, messing with the older and the next a vicious growl came from behind you. Jimin immediately stood between you and the rouge, trying to shield his omega from harms way. One look at the other wolf showed that he was older, probably in his thirties or forties, and as strong as Jimin was or a seventeen-year-old, you both were aware of the fact, that he didn’t stand a chance against the intruder. You needed help. The second your howled, was the second the rouge decided to attack. He new he didn’t have much time and had to get rid of you fast. He crashed into Jimin’s body, their forms rolling around on the ground. The white fur of your pack member a stark contrast to your surroundings and the brown fur of the attacking wolf.

A yelp from Jimin is what caused you to spring into action. Blood was dripping down his left shoulder. You tried to let out a terrifying growl but even to your ears it sounded pathetic. It was enough to get the wanted attention though. The rough turned his attentiveness to you, baring his teeth which were covered in Jimin’s blood. You stood your ground, willing to do whatever it took to protect your pack member. His slow steps rapidly changed into a sprint and you reciprocated the action. But before you could meet, Hoseok jumped out of the bushes surrounding you, catching the wolf mid-air and forcing him to the ground.

It wasn’t much of a fight. Hoseok was clearly stronger and more skilled than the intruder. Quickly he brought the enemy on his back and snaped his neck with his teeth. Letting go of the body, he turned around and scanned the situation. It was clear that Jimin need immediate attention, so he ran over to the younger wolf. You stood frozen in place, staring at the dead animal, whose eyes were open and facing you. You hadn’t noticed when the others arrived and Seokjin tending to Jimin’s wound. Jumping slightly when Hobi pressed his head into your neck, startling you.

You stared into his eyes. Apart of both of you feared that you would be scared of him after having seen him murder someone. Taking a life so easily. But the look in his eyes showed nothing but love and protectiveness. A silent massage, that he always would protect you and the pack, whatever it may cost.

Jimin, beauty and elegance personified in one little being. Form a young age he was always well spoken and able to swoon anybody with his silver tongue and remarkable looks. Especially in Senior high, those looks brough a lot of insecurities with them and put a lot of pressure on Jimin mentally. He would skip out on meals and train whenever he could. Being a part of the dance team with Hoseok, his body was always on display for others to judge. A fact which brought a lot of fear and dark thoughts.

It was Yoongi who realised it first. The both of them were always bickered like an old married couple but cared for each other deeply. When he realised what Jimin was doing he immediately went to Jin and Namjoon. The four of them had a long talk which involved a lot of shouting and accusations. Until Jimin broke down crying. The walls he had built came trembling down and he admitted to the negative thoughts clouding his mind. That night you set up a nest for you and the alpha. Cuddling him all night long, while whispering uplifting words of affection into his hair.

Taehyung, the artist with a smile that could dazzle the sun. His talent for remembering paths and nature facts has helped your group out of a lot of scary situations and gets acknowledge often in your pack. Particularly, when the alphas and betas went out for a hunt, Taeyhung’s attended was often requested alongside Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s to insure the safe and swift return of everyone.

Furthermore, he loved to help out in the nearby day care. Playing with the kids and reading them stories took up a big part of his free time, especially during holidays. He often forced Jimin to go with him, so he could teach them a new choreography. It always ended with Jimin going home more exhausted than he is after dance practise.  

Jungkook, brute strength embodied in a boy with a heart of gold. Always ready to stir up trouble, especially with Tae or Jin, and loves to be babied my everyone. He never fails to be responsible and attentive for the ones he loves though. Like that time, you caught a cold during winter break and only the maknae line was home. The hyungs had to attend a pack meeting with Namjoon’s mother out of town.

Jungkook had cooked you soup everyday and made sure you took your medicine at the right moments. He called Jin multiple times during those four days to make sure he did everything right. Late at night he would crawl into bed with you and provide you with his body heat. His alpha on high alert to make sure his omega was comfortable and protected while she rested.

Y/N, the only omega of the group, but still a force to be reckoned with. As the only girl in the group, you know how to keep the young wolfs in check. Never letting them get out of line. Whacking them over the back of their heads whenever the situations called for it, which was often. Although you are able to stand up for yourself, your omega tendencies shine through whenever you are with the boys. Loving to be pampered and cared for by them. Physical affection playing a huge part in your relationship. A language all of you learn to read and communicate with.

Getting off form a stressful day at school, you would ride the bus past your stop and go over to one of their houses. Laying in Namjoons bed while he reads a book about pack laws and traditions or you would back hug Seokjin while he prepared something to eat for everyone. Calling the others over, so the eight of you could watch a movie or play a board game. You firmly planted on Hoseok’s lap, enjoying the way he played with your hair and getting fed popcorn by Taehyung.

In public you were the strong and independent omega your parents raised you to be, but with them you were able to relax and let them take control. Letting them indulge in their providing nature. Something you were very grateful for. Every day.

This were the eight little troublemakers whose love for each other is unheard of. A weird mixture of personalities. Where one goes the other seven follow. 32 pairs of paws, seven tails and one heartbeat.

#bts #bts x reader #OT7 BTS #ot7 #ot7 x reader #werwolf #au #linked by fate

[cannibal-witchh]

Reader(Fem) x Alcina Dimitrescu

(PART 2)

Written by cannibal_witchh

Part 1

:https://cannibal-witchh.tumblr.com/post/641589115086929920/readerfem-x-alcina-dimitrescu-part-1-written

⛓Trigger Warnings⛓

Story contains: Gore, sexual elements, vulgar language, violence, elements of sub/dom behavior, and captivity.

Notes: This is the 2nd part of the story and it will progressively get more sexual, and the elements between the reader and Alcina will become more dom/sub. It is a little bit of a slow burner so bare with me. It will get juicy soon! I want to add, I do not support in any fashion abuse, and or non consensual actions. ⚠️ I have clearly placed trigger warnings to indicate there may be elements that are not for every reader. I heavily gravitate with dominance and submission/gore so thats where the relationship in the story will go ⚠️ Again, limited information so nothing in the story really is canon.

The reader is referred to as:

Y/N- your name

Y/L/N- your last name

She/her- in italics and bold

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Her blood boiled as she felt the weight of humiliation and rage filter through her. She was in poor shape, bloodied up, bruised, and very little hope could be found within her. She stared at Alcina with a hateful expression, but the vampress had full awareness beneath that thin surface of loathing was absolute fear. "Don't be foolish. I will not say it again.", she continued a smirk as she rested her elbows up on the edge of the bath. Even in absolute indecency she was wicked and intense. Her body at full exposure, water glistening off her porcelain skin, and gentle beads of water trailing down her breasts. The moon was illuminating off her soft tall figure, as she tipped her head back and relaxed it on the edge. "I think I've been more than patient with you."

Y/N, had so many emotions cycling through her, there was disgust, hatred, and anxiety. But she had concluded that there was no point in stalling. Alcina would grow tired and eventually kill her if she wasted anymore time. She began to strip, peeling an article of clothing at a time, trying desperately to cling on to every second. Her hands trembling as she slid her panties down her ankles before the wicked vampire.

She submerged her body in the warm water, blood began to scatter out from her knee, and she watched fragments of the water become crimson. Fuck. "Relax, I'm not a shark. I can smell your wonderful nectar but I have no need to feed at this exact instance just because you're coloring my bath water red.", she teased pulling her head up. Loose black waves stuck to her wet skin, spreading out like a small web on her smooth pale skin. Her intense bright eyes focused on Y/N, her eyes looked so preditorial, and so hungry. Those eyes burned deep in Y/N's soul, it was haunting.

After about forty minutes of soaking and cleansing, Alcina decided to privilege Y/N by showing her the cellar room. She held a lit candlabrum guiding them deep inside. It smelled foul, there were variations of fresh corpses everywhere, limbs lost in other areas of the large hallway, and it was incredibly dark. The walls and floor were built with thick cobblestone, and there were numerous cellars with rusted bars. " Now, I believe I have treated you kindly with allowing you to stay in an actual guest room.", she said as she continued to lead Y/N deeper into the cellars. Abruptly, an incredibly dry groan echoed through the cellar, it sounded as if it was in absolute suffering and pain. Y/N darted her head in the direction she believed it came from but it was too difficult to really distinguish actually where it sounded. " Relax, I won't allow them to touch you.", she assured as she stopped and turned to face her. "Those are family.", she stretched a pearly grin, her fangs teasing under her satin red lips. Alcina instructed with just her hands for Y/N to come closer to her, and she obeyed the demand. "You look much better being cleaned up, pet.", that name alone flooded a pool of humiliation in her, being stabbed, bitten, and beaten countless times to this nonsense- it just delivered a wave of embarassment to her. Alcina let out a soft giggle, and for moments there wasn't words being exchanged.

Thud! With swift impact, there was a heavy hit that landed to Y/N's head, and she flew several feet back away from Alcina. She tried to gather herself but her vision grew blurry, and her knee still in poor condition to make quick movements. Dwindling in and out of clear vision, the sounds of agonizing groaning reverberated through the corridor infront of her. She felt shivers, hair raise, and another dose of adrenaline greet her. What could this be? Within moments, a strong smell of decay flooded through the damp cobblestone hallways, and echos of pain continuing to sound. A group of corpse like creatures swayed in, their bodies detierating, bones exposed, long sharp aged nails, and hollow dark eyes. Her family. Absolute horror welcomed Y/N, Alcina had lied, she wasn't going to protect her. The creatures began to hobble towards her, surrounding her, their stench choking her, and their groans ringing in her ear. She was fucked, no available escape was present for her to attempt. She closed her eyes and she felt the stroke of long thin nails brush against her face and arms. Felt the cold breath of their hissing near her ears, as she tried to control her panic. This was it. "Enough!", Alcina screeched, and immediately the creatures shrieked and fled away in the tunnels. She relaxed her hands on her hips and walked over to Y/N with a pleased expression. " This is what will become of you but worse if you do not submit to me. Do we have ourselves clear?", Alcina watched as Y/N nodded trying to control her panicked breaths, and maintain her shivering. "Good."

Without effort, Alcina had carried Y/N in her arms all the day back to her captive room. When they arrived, she locked the door, and rested Y/N on the sheets. Y/N felt some release of tension the moment she establish this was her room. She spread her arms out, tracing the creases of silk that collected under her. The presence of the fabric brought her slight comfort. "Honestly, you truely are pathetic.", she sighed as she sat the candlabrum on the wooden nightstand beside the bed. Y/N felt beside her sink, Alcina had sat beside her and began to run her fingers through her hair. Despite the cruel treatment, this minor kindness felt relieving to Y/N. She let out a small sound of relief as Alcina continued to lace her fingers through her hair. "I feel despite some tension, you have gathered an understanding of your place as my feeding pet. I appreciate that submission. I have mutually contributed. I awaited feeding until you were cleansed and in the comforts of your room.", a sharp spike danced in Y/N's stomach, she felt acidity well up, and her knee twitch with discomfort. It was time.

This time, Y/N did have opposition towards the situation this time. She fully gave in to the unfortunate circumstances. Her pants were removed, revealing a blackened knee with blood stains feathering out from the site. "I'm quite surprised how quickly you've adapted to your position to me. I have to admit, I am pleased with you.", Alcina leaned to her side, hovering over Y/N's wounded knee, her large breasts nearly spilling out from her nightgown. The closer she leaned towards her knee, the more her alluring breasts pressed gently against Y/N. "Despite my daughters, I have control over my hunger. I will treat you well, and I will know how to savor you slowly.", she looked down at her knee and let out a sound of disappointment. "So much for being patient. Its scabbed. I suppose I will make a new feeding site."

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"My f-femoral atery?", Y/N muttered as she felt her cheeks grow hot. A major artery, not even her daughters had fed on. The violent feeding they did more than likely would've killed her if they attempted to. " Yes, now please relax. I have fed in this location before and no one has ever died. I have lived a long life and acquired quite the knowledge on self control.", she began to move close to her upper thigh, her nose brushing lightly against her skin, and her mouth leaving light streaks stained from her rouge. The sound of skin break was heard through the cold air, Y/N let out a pained moan and held her breath. The pain was unpleasant, it was like having a canine bite but with small thin teeth. She tried focusing on the candle wicks, watching them sway and dance softly in the distance. The warm occasional crackle it did from time to time. It was the closest thing to resemble peacefulness during this taxing time. Alcina began to feed, siphoning Y/N's blood, she made sounds of utter bliss as the sweet flavor danced along her desperate tongue. Her body stiffening in surprise as pure satisfaction greeted her mouth. Her nipples growing erect through her night gown, brushing against Y/N's leg. Y/N felt light headed, feeling blood leaving her as she grew quickly cold. Strangely, she had no presence of panic, perhaps, the loss of blood delivered her brief emotional insensitivity. Alcina stayed down there for quite sometime, muttering muffled sounds of bliss, occasionally latching off revealing a bloodied chin, teeth, and lips. She met Y/N's eyes and immediately flashed a wide smile, it was almost sickening but in a way bewitching. Maybe the lack of blood was making Y/N confused. " W-why am I so relaxed?", she muttered feeling a heavy weight of tranquility possess her. " Shh...its the lack of blood. Soon I will stop.", Alcina whispered as Y/N felt her tongue lick her inner thigh. Her long tongue tracing and prodding the bite marks. Desperstely trying to drain whatever was left of the site.

" I believe, I am full. Thank you for the meal.", she wiped her crimson stained lips and chin with the back of her hands ,now tarnishing it with red. " I believe, I owe you a thank you, pet. You have been surprisingly obedient the whole time, and quiet too.", Alcina slowly adjusted herself until she was on all fours above Y/N. Her large smooth breasts draping down reaveling down her well tailored gown. She began to crawl slowly towards Y/N's face, her chest lighting brushing against Y/N's body. It was incredibly soft yet cold. " I am going to need you to open your mouth, won't you, pet?", without hesitation, Y/N dropped her mouth open for her. Alcina licked her lips and pressed her right fang into her plump bottom lip. Blood began to trickle out and run down her chin and onto her chest. Her hand traveled slowly up to Y/N's neck, gentle gripping it, and holding it against the mattress. Her opposite hand, explored under her shirt, and rested on her heart. Y/N, felt the a wave of heat flush away the cold that was residing in her. What was she about to do? "Can't let my obedient food die on me, yet.", Alcina leaned herself forward, pressing her lips against Y/N's. Her tongue inviting itself into her mouth, brushing metallic crimson inside. The flavor was terrible but Y/N did not seem to object. Alcina continued to kiss her, muffled sounds escaping between their lips as a warm blanketed feeling continued to lay over Y/N. Blood had managed to escape their lips, trickling down Y/N's chin, it was incredibly cold as it traveled down. Alcina ceased the kissing, her face revealed itself to be flush and pink. Strange for a creature of the undead. She moved her long delicate fingers along Y/N's blood covered lips and chin. Collecting whatever escaped under her finger tips. "Don't waste it.", she whispered softly nudging her fingers against Y/N's lips, as they slipped their way inside her mouth. More of that bitter flavor met Y/N's tongue, and she felt her body grow warmer and warmer. Alcina took her fingers out after a few moments, examining there was no trace of remaining blood present. She made a sound of approval that trailed with a small smile. An overwhelming amount of insatiable hunger found Y/N, she felt her body perk with energy, her senses incredibly alert, and her heart accelerate as if it was injected with caffeine. She brought a hand to Alcina's cheek and drew her to her own. Lips reuniting again, her tongue pressing its way into Alcina's mouth, and Y/N biting her lower plump lip. She was hungry, the introduction to Alcina's blood was intoxicating, addictive, and restoring. It brought her energy and she needed more. A small line of red flowed from Alcina's lower lip, and Y/N quickly licked it from her face. Her tongue returning back to Alcina's mouth the moment she collected all of her crimson. Alcina muffled a small moan, as her hand tightened around Y/N's neck, the opposite hand no long resting on her Y/N's heart but traveling down her stomach. Her incredibly sharp nails dragging into her sternum down to above her navel. She felt blood seep from those insicions, and she let out a pained moan. She buried her lips against Alcina's for a few more passionate moments until she broke it. Her lips pressing against Y/N's neck and her tongue dragging down her neck to the freshly bloodied cuts on her sternum and navel. She kissed and licked the bloodied wounds hungrily. Little delicate moans left her mouth as she glanced up at Y/N with her appreciative smile. Still continuing to clean the newly made cuts with her tongue. "Dont act as if this is an invitation of making love, foolish one. Vampires have restorative blood that gives humans the ability to briefly recover, replenish energy, alertness, and on some occasions enhance their libidio.", she rolled her eyes, " In this case, you acquired all of it. What a headache. I just wanted to make sure you didn't die of blood loss.", She sighed. " I suppose I will find more uses for you, pet. But don't think it will entirely feel good."

To be continued...

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#resident evil #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re village #re8 #resident evil village #alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #alcina fanfic #reaident evil village fanfic #resident evil 8 fanfic #resident evil fanfic #fanfic

[orime-stories]

Trepidation and Hope

Aurelle Silmontier - Final Fantasy XIV

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Aymeric is preparing for the dragons' attack on the city, and a surprise visit from the Warrior of Light is a welcome distraction. Full story below the cut. (1134 words) Previous Story / Next Story / Read on AO3 / Tumblr Masterlist

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The Dravanian Horde stood poised to bring the full might of its hatred down upon the people of Ishgard. And as the Lord Commander, Aymeric was spending his every waking moment doing what he could to ensure that there would still be a city left standing in the aftermath.

Twenty years it had been, since Nidhogg had last joined the fray. Aymeric had still been a boy, his parents doing what they could to protect him from the panic skittering through streets not yet lost to eternal winter. Purposefully keeping Borel Manor as place of lightness and refuge, talk of current affairs kept to quiet whispers they had hoped he would not catch. Fussing over him as he settled into bed at night, as though he were several years younger still. Promising him that all would be well.

But this time he could not look from what was coming. Could not hide behind secret whispers or soft words. This time he was the one helming the entire city’s response, doing what he could to aid this generation of parents in their efforts to shield their own children from the horrors bearing down on them all. Hoping that his mother and father were watching his own efforts from Halone’s Halls with pride in their eyes.

At times, he felt as a lone shield against the encroaching darkness, naked and afraid. Holding firm all the same — for all the many souls under his protection. Daniffen’s Collar lay broken after a millennium of service, its ancient arcane protections sundered and spent. Too much of the city yet lay jagged and torn from the last attack, too many of its defensive armaments lying useless and mangled at the bottom of the abyss. Too many knights and lords and common folk that had already given too much. Their arms. Their brothers. Their lives.

He himself was being pulled in several directions, inundated with well-meaning but woefully unhelpful suggestions and demands on where his knights would best be placed. Calming the panicking lords and doing what he could to reassure the lowborn that he was not going to abandon them to the Horde when the beasts descended. Returning each night to his manor, empty but for a handful of servants, the place an echoing reminder of the many responsibilities he now shouldered — the hopes of his house and his city. The legacies and charges that were his to safeguard and keep. Far from the refuge of his youth that he so yearned for, his home had become little more than a place to snatch what sleep he could before setting out once more to wring what preparations he could out of the time he was afforded, as they all watched the skies with trepidation and waited for the fires to reach them.

Ideally they would be looking to their Eorzean allies for support during this critical time. But the Alliance’s response to the Horde’s attack on the Steps of Faith had made clear how any such overtures would realistically be met now, even as he would make them all the same if the city would only give him leave to do so. But the Eorzean Alliance’s rightful resentment of Ishgard’s past abandonments was evidently undimmed and unyielding, any help his people had gotten in that last crucial battle squarely down to the Scions’ noble efforts. But now the members of that esteemed organisation were either scattered or dead, the only ones left to him journeying somewhere beyond his reach to see what impossible feats they were yet capable of in their much diminished state. He did not know for certain what they were trying to accomplish this time, but he hoped. Desperately and with every prayer in his heart, he hoped.

And that hope flared to blinding as the door to his office opened and the Warrior of Light herself entered the room, chaperoned by one of his knights.

As ever, her body language was hunched uncomfortably away from the escort, anxiety fidgeting through her hands and scattering her gaze. It remained utterly absurd to him that someone could fell the most powerful monsters known to man and yet balk so in the company of those unfamiliar to her. For familiarity seemed indeed to be the key, if the easy laughter he had witnessed her sharing with her fellow Scions and Lord Haurchefant was any indication.

He gestured for the knight to return to her post, hoping that he might now have accrued enough of that familiarity to put Aurelle at least a little at ease. But he was not prepared for just how quickly her bearing would change as the closing door hid the rest of the world away, her shoulders dropping and her hands stilling as she flourished back into the woman he had dined with before his very eyes with a small sigh of relief.

“You have news?” he asked, motioning for her to take a seat before him, honoured to have earned her comfort, to perhaps now be able to count himself among the privileged few she did not feel that inexplicable need to shy away from.

“Only that we’re close to accomplishing what we set out to do. Well,” she caught herself with a brief frown, “we don’t know what it will accomplish. If anything. But we’re close to finding out, at least.”

“And you still carry hope that this venture might stop the war ere it begins in earnest?”

“I… Yes.” She nodded. “I don’t know if… But I do hope. Can you still give us the time?”

“So long as our situation does not materially change, I am confident that I can. But if the dragons do approach the city, the high houses will demand action. And they shall be right to do so.”

She nodded again, considering. “I’ll pass that along to everyone.”

“How soon will you be setting out again?”

“Probably in a day or two. We’re waiting for someone, and I’m determined to enjoy at least one comfortable night at Fortemps manor before I head off,” she finished with a sparkle in her eyes.

“You more than deserve the rest, I am sure,” he said with all sincerity, and her head dipped in appreciation.

“Is there anything you need?” she asked. “Anything I can pass on to Alphinaud or Estinien or…?”

The desire to perpetuate the calm resting so gently on her features certainly felt like a need.

“Hardly a requirement, but I should be glad to host another dinner while you are in the city. If you have the time.” Something he certainly did not have in abundance himself, but that he would fight to spend on this one selfish allowance if he could.

Her whole demeanour brightened and his chest tightened in victory.

“I’d love that!” she beamed.

#final fantasy xiv #heavensward #aymeric de borel #oc: aurelle silmontier #aymeric x wol #orime's stories

[ccatskies]

soarinfleetfire | we're in this together

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this one's the normal length, haha.

okay, this is choco's request for her ultimate brotp. i love that sweetheart sooo much. although i'm kinda anxious if i did a good job or not, bc i NEVER did spitfire, nor fleetfoot (i love her sm). but yeah, hope i don't disappoint as much as i think i will.

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The younger cousin ran a hand through her fiery locks, vexed, as she spits out an anxious chain of words to herself. Her short orange hair reaching a little above her shoulders was undoubtedly soaked in sweat and a rainfall of anxiety. She brought her palms together over the bridge of her nose, only to feel the drastic heat generated on her skin.

"It's okay, you know?" Fleetfoot put forth, prior to tittering as she sits next to her younger cousin. "We can do this. It's not a big deal!"

"Did you even see that?" The former girl quickly snapped at her, sweat tricking down the side of her forehead, as she continued with an accidental voice crack, "that's an article, Fleetfoot, which probably diminished our careers already! Our reputation — " she groaned, throwing her head back on the headrest of the furniture, scrunching her nose up in despondency, "fuck, I can't."

The latter sighed, prior to glancing at the boy, directing him to come forward. Soarin was sat across the table, brows furrowed as he watched his cousin lose her sanity over the recent fuss. It wouldn't have been much of a deal for him and Fleetfoot but seeing their youngest gal about to break apart was rather a little frustrating for the both, making him want to throw a fit himself.

But he couldn't. He had a damn cousin to comfort, but approaching Spitfire in such a situation was quite a challenge. Either she'd freak out or freak out more. There was absolutely no in between.

"I tried everything, didn't I?" She gritted her teeth, her exhaustion getting the best of her with every passing second. The back of her hand flew up to cover her eyes as she laid her head back, proceeding to blurt out, "all these years, I've tried maintaining the image of the Wonderbolts like a pathetic loser. . . that must be their main point, to shame my ass."

"That freak of a reporter might be right. Heck, all of what he said must be true, fucking word to word," she enunciated, having her older cousins frown at her choice of words, "fuck, I never had a reputation to begin with! Captain of the Wonderbolts, bull. Extraordinary leader, bull."

"The way he said that I was incapable of keeping my teammates on track, even going to the point I harass them with mental pressure and whatnot," her voice cracked for the fifteenth time, as she put her hand down, sitting straight back and eyeing the girl next to her, "you guys must feel that way too. . ."

Fleetfoot's pupils dilated as she attempted to word her opinion prior to shutting her mouth back like a helpless goldfish, being cut off by the girl once again, "I wouldn't be surprised if you guys lied to me all this time. I know you care for me, which is the exact evidence I need to state that you two pity me."

"What? No — "

"Soarin, I know." She spat, snapping her body weight towards his direction to the right, as she eyed him across the table, "they said that the Wonderbolts were a joke, didn't they? That we snuck in fake players all along after watching High Winds fail last game, which again is my fault — I pressured her! He said that the other members keep failing, falling sick and get traumatized because of my incapacity to comfort them as the leader. That I only let my personal favourites get the spotlight. And, that I'm just a lame excuse for a leader."

"I know for a fact that the last statement is the truth, whether he snuck in some shitty lies or not," Spitfire sighed out in frustration, resting her elbows on the surface of her knee, as she proceeded to stare down at the ground, "I really did fail you guys."

"Hey, that's just an article," Soarin came forward to sit next to her, offering a hand next to his cousin's shoulder, "one out of a million that states some crap. You know what the rest of them say? That you're anything but a lame excuse of a captain. You're our pride, buddy."

"Well, that was before. . ." she sputtered, hanging her head further down with her palms scattered across her heated face, streams of tears threatening to course down and drown the strong front she put up, "I got outed. Not just to the public, but to myself. I never knew how terrible of a person I was until he read out his words in front of me during that event. I couldn't hold my head high, knowing that what he said about me being incompetent and ruthless. . . was the damn truth!"

"Hey, that reporter is the incompetent one!" Fleetfoot protested, bringing herself down on her knees in front of the youngest as she stared at her with a smile, "you know you're not what he thinks you are, right? If you don't, then allow me to specify that you, my friend, are the most responsible and deserving leader ever."

"If that doesn't justify," Soarin smiled, leaning in for a side hug, as he proceeded to pat her shoulder, "know that the Wonderbolts love you like nuts. Every one of them."

"Including that jackass — "

"Fleetfoot!"

"You think so?" Spitfire brought her attention to her the older boy, drained of the fury and tension that victimized her for an entire week since that event, "that they don't feel the smart way?"

"Of course not!" Both of her cousins objected in unison.

"We've seen these false articles go by, haven't we?" Soarin articulated, "and this particular one is lame, so no matter how much it wants to defame our team, it can't."

"Simple as that." Fleetfoot smiled, pinching the bridge of her cousin's nose.

"I. . ." she bit her lip, caressing the back of her neck simultaneously, "I'm sorry for raging out."

"No, it's okay," Soarin chuckled, "you have every right to. You were anxious and that's fine."

"Thank you," she sighed, a small lighthearted smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It wasn't really a thing she put much thought to, but they were quite literally everything to her, starting from calming her down to always having her back. They weren't just cousins, but best friends to the end. 

Heck, she loved them more than anything.

"Don't mention it," Fleetfoot grinned, nudging her shoulder.

"We're here for you, okay? Always remember that."

"Always."

At the spur of moment, there came an unanticipated growl, startling the three.

Soarin squeezed his eyes shut, an aggravated groan slipping past his lips as he proceeded, "I swear to fucking God, Fleetfoot — "

"That article talk got me hungry, you dumb kid."

"Right NOW?"

"RIGHT. NOW."

"Fucking hell, Fleetfoot, aren't you the oldest — "

"Doesn't mean I can't get hungry and LANGUA— "

They're they go, again.

Spitfire sighed out loud, pushing her head back on the headrest, as she muttered to herself discreetly, "I don't get paid enough for this shit."

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fun fact: i hc spitfire as the oldest, but since this was for choco, i followed hers 💜

#drabble #i only hope choco gives me a pass if i messed up- #soarin skies #fleetfoot #spitfire #mlp #equestria girls #eqg #writing #the wonderbolts #nivia writes

[martynamazworkbook]

LANGUAGE

L ANGUAGE / LANNGUYGD LA NGUAGE / LA NGUYCH LAN GUAGE / LAEN GUYTCH LANG UAGE / LEANG OOYCH LANGU AGE / LAENGOO AEYTCH LANGUA GE / LANGWAE GEE LANGUAG E / LANGUAK EE

There is a theme of language woven in through my life.  Is it significant? Somewhat, I think. Where I live now has sprung from my love for english language. As I was growing up, I was a zealot. I loved speaking english and I adored all the different dialects, not by their looks, but how they sounded. It was easier for me to learn about things when I read about them in english, as opposed to polish, which is my native tongue. 

I started learning english quite early on, definitely my first years of school, or as soon as it was available. I remember the pleasant and exciting feelings I had towards my teacher. She was a very pretty and young woman. One with that sort of all organised life aura. She had a partner, nice clothes, lovely and gentle make up. At least that’s how I remember her, not that I’d recognise her on the street, but how I perceived her at that time, so different to any females I was familiar with from home and my own environment, had definitely impacted how I perceived the language. 

I never learned english. I really just enjoyed reading texts, listening to tapes, repeating, rewriting. I listed to music from foreign artists and I’d find their lyrics, to sometimes translate, sometimes just make little books with, retyped on a typewriter. Maybe I’d paste a picture here and there. No sure, but some memories remain. 

These days, or should I say, for a few years now, it seems that my mouth just wants to speak Spanish. I adore the sound of Spanish from the south of Spain. It just flows so beautifully. When I’m in Spain, my mouth opens up to speak, I just didn’t let my mind know that it has the vocabulary to use, but soon as I’ve allowed it to think it can, it’d just go. It’s almost a physical thing. I mean, it does feel very physical, in my mouth especially. 

Much like that time my body wanted to conceive. Yeah. That time. So bizarre but that’s what I felt. My body wanted to conceive a baby. But I didn’t want that. I was resisting it as much as I could. I was in my early 20s. It wasn’t meant to be. How lucky!

I guess, not only language has had some say in my life, but also words. I read lots of lyrics as a youngster (and some philosophy). Mostly by Cobain and Courtney Love. I wrote a little throughout my school years too. I still have my high school notebook. Luckily, it’s not full. The pain that I find on the pages is not even funny. It’s really quite sad. It was tearing me apart. I guess it’s some kind of stage, of looking for oneself amongst the environment that seemed hostile. 

Religion should allow and set free, not forbid. That’s a domain of politics. 

But this year has been good for poems. They just come. They just come. Writing too. It’s those impulses from the universe. The muse is like, here you are, here’s some words for you to write down. And so I do. 

Are they good? That’s not even a question. I don’t really care (yet). I just like the feeling of the moment of inspiration. That is the joy. But also, I like some of them. I really do. Similarly to photography, they help me remember almost exactly what emotions ran through me at that time. And some of them seem quite deep. Deep in a sense of being able to be translated universally, not just in particulars to who I am, what has ever happened to me, or where I come from. It all has an impact, but the poems I like could have been written by many, not just me. They are on their way to revealing the truth, or sometimes maybe they do. 

LANGOO ITCH

#language #words #visualpoetry #poetry #blogging

[brokenandtiredsouls]

‘cAuSe yOu’Re aLwaYs bOtheRIn’ mE

i think i found this prompt somewhere sdkfjsdklf but i cant remember and honestly m feeling a little lazy now i’ll probably go looking for it later but uh yeah.

------

Tony sighed as he finished washing the grease off his hands, reaching out to grab a towel to dry off when- 

“GOOD LORD, PetER?” one of the lab’s window crashed through, and Spider-Man landed in a heap on the floor.

“Hey, M’sr Stark,” Peter called from the floor, voice slurred. Tony stared, aghast at the puddle of blood the began to seep out and around Peter.

“Peter?” Tony rushed forawrd, bending over to scoop him up. Peter groaned, eyes clenching shut tightly. “Peter, what happened, c’mon bud,” he pleaded. “You gotta talk to me, what’s going on?”

Peter opened one eye blearily and tried to send Tony a reassuring smile. It came out more like a horrible grimace, his teeth covered in his own blood. 

“m’okay, m’sr stark, really,” he flapped one hand uselessly in the air, gesturing mildly at his stomach, where an alarming amout of bullet wounds resided. “I just- jus’ need-” 

He passed out.

----

When Peter came to, Tony was passed out on the chair beside him, head resting on the bedside railing.

Peter lifted his head, once again greatful for his super healing. The room spun once or twice, then slowly came back into focus.

“da-” Peter cleared his throat. “Tony?” His voice was small, even to him.

Tony shifted, then yelped when his head fell off the railing, catching himself  right before he fell completely off his chair.

“Peter!” Tony pushed back his chair, sending it toppling over backwards. He moved to rush forward, cupping Peter’s face in his hands, eyes scanning him for any signs of discomfort. His metal arm whirred softly when he ran his thumbs aver the arches of Peter’s cheeks. “FRI,” He called softly, “turn the lights down to Spidey Settings, please. And maybe get Pep in here, tell her to let Cho know he’s up.”

FRIDAY complied without further prompting, toning and dimming the lights in the room. “I’m fine, Mister Stark,” Peter said, lifting up his own hands to swat at Tony’s. “Just a couple stray bullets-” Peter shot up.

“Mister Stark- the- the uh, what’s it, the-”

Tony sent him in scathing look, removing his hands to cross his arms. “Taken care of, thanks a lot to you, but not a lot of thanks from my fucking heart, kiddo.”

Peter sunk back down into his pillows, more to get away from Tony’s Dad Glare than anything else. “So, uh,” Peter mumbled, trying for a smile.

“Peter,” Tony started. “What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuCk?” Tony threw his hands in the air, spinning around with a disbelieving scoff. 

“Langua-?” Peter started, then shut his mouth at Tony’s dissaproving glare.

“I know you wanted to hep Peter, but you need to let me know when you’re going to do reckless things like this, my heart is old, child!” Tony paced around the medbay, hands flailing pointlessly in the air around him.

“Mister Stark,” Peter protsted weakly. “I’m ok, that wasn’t even the worst I’ve had before!”

Tony spun around, dangerously slow, to face Peter. “Shit,” he mumbled, shrinking from Tony’s gaze.

“Peter Benjamin Stark,” Tony took in a sharp breath. “WHAT on earth?” He kept talking, and Peter dully noted him talking about you can’t help people if you can’t even stANd, Peter!

Peter smiled, leaning over to rest his chin in his hand, smirking mildly at Tony who continued to talk about Self Care, Pete, we talked about this!

“Tony,” Peter interuprted, smiling brightly up at him. Tony stopped talking, and blinked at Peter’s obviously joyful face.

“yeah, kid?” Tony narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms once again but moving to sit by Peter on the bed.

“Do you,” Peter coughed. His confidence was draining by the second, and he faltered. “Do you, uh-”

Tony softened immediately, uncrossing his arms to run his flesh hand gently through Peter’s tangled hair. “Hey, kiddo,” he said, voice considerably quieter. “What’s up?”

Peter shifted slightly on the bed, leaning into Tony’s touch, letting his eyes fall closed. “Do you see me as your kid?”

Tony’s hand stopped for a split second, but then he kept brushing through it, humming thoughtfully. “Why? Do you see me as a father figure?”

Peter laughed, swatting at Tony’s hand that wasn’t in his hair. “Deflecting. And, uh-” Peter cleared his throat. “Would it be a bad thing if I did?” ABORT, his mind screamed, DEFLECT BACK AT HIM, TELL HIM HE’S A BOTHER FIGURE-QUOTE B99 UNTIL HE FORGETS WHAT WE ASKED

Tony scooted closer to Peter on the bed, moving to wrap him in a gentle hug. “No,” he said gently. “It most definitely would not.”

oh. Peter’s mind made a little record-scratching noise.

“Oh,” Peter said. Eloquent, his mind quipped at him. “That’s nice.”

Tony laughed, ducking his head a little to kiss the crown of Peter’s head. “Mhm,” he hummed. “Say, Pete,” Tony said. “Why ask the question now?”

Peter smirked, ducking out of Tony’s arms so Tony could see it. Once he did, Tony’s eyes narrowed. “What’s goin’ on in that big brain of yours, kiddo?”

“Nothing,” Peter chirped. “Jus’ thinking about how you went total Dad Mode on me,” Peter’s smirk widened when Tony mock glared at him.

“An’ how you called me,” Peter cleared his throat, smirk wide as ever. “Peter Benjamin Stark.”

Tony’s face went considerably paler. “Shit,” he whispered. Almost immediately, he began stammering out apologies, and Peter frowned.

“Mister Stark-” Peter cut him off “-it’s fine, Mister Stark.” Tony looked at Peter in surprise, body freezing up. Peter just shook his head fondly, and moved forward to crush Tony in a hug.

Tony melted into the hug, restng his cheek on Peter’s unruly curls. “Mister Stark thi, Mister Stark that,”  he mocked fondly. “I go and practically call you my son and you’re still out here with your formalities.”

“Would you be ok with me calling you dad?” Peter asked, voice unbelievably soft.

Tony’s breath hitched in his throat. Pushing back the inevitable tears he could feel coming, Tony just sighed into Peter’s hair. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d be more than a hundred percent on board with that, Pete.”

Peter hummed happily, snuggling deeper into the hug.

“But if you think you got out of that Dad Lecture, you’re dead wrong, buddy.”

“bUT daAAaAaAd,” Peter groaned sleepily.

Tony just smiled, wrapping his arms tighter around Peter. “Love you too, kiddo,” He said softly, closing his eyes to rest, too.

#sjgdsggdf #that was a WaCK ending #it was rough #thats a rougghh ass ending #oops #anyWAyS #irondad #spiderson #marvel #tony stark #tony stark is a DAD #peter parker

[jungk0oksthighs]

1 | The Purge

BTS X OC’s [PURGE!AU]

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, blood, gore, death and other illegal purge activities. this chapter contains strong languae, grief, gore & death.

masterlist | ask | next

“Five minutes to go, make sure lock the main doors, tell security it’s time to bring the steel shutters down.” Jin ordered with hooded eyes, his jaw set tight as he gracefully poured himself another glass of red wine.

Aged 26, most people knew Kim Seokjin as the handsome ‘anti-purge’ activist and supporter on the Upper East Side, though he was by no means a political figure he’d never believed in the reasoning behind the purge and his sister Sohwa was the same. Three years ago their parents were brutally mutated and murdered while they were tied up, gagged, beaten and forced to watch, ever since then the Kim siblings had done their utmost to advocate against the worst 12 hours of the year known to America, and spread one message nationwide:

The purge has to end.

For Jin it wasn’t about the publicity, the media, or even the countless Instagram followers he had declaring their love for him on an hourly basis. It was about doing the right thing. Not only did he inherit his devilishly handsome face, broad shoulders, and whimsical sense of humour from his father. He inherited his pride, professionalism and maturity from him too.

Every year the siblings would throw a party that took place the exact same time as the purge, it was one way of Jin ensuring that Sohwa and his closest friends would remain safe inside. This year was no different as they all gathered round the 60 inch flatscreen mounted on the red feature wall, anxiously waiting for the countdown to begin.

“What about Jungkook?” Sohwa asked her older brother with weighted brows, though she would never admit it to even herself, she held quite the soft spot for Jin’s youngest friend.

“He’s on lockdown with his parents.” Jimin said matter-of-factly, his expression disinterested as his eyes roamed Sohwa’s frame.

There was no denying her beauty, both she and her brother won the genetic lottery thanks to their late, physically perfect parents. She had choppy black hair that almost looked blue in certain lighting, stopping just below her dainty shoulders. She was short in stature, with pale glowing skin and a hint of freckles. As a qualified trauma nurse she didn’t always have the time to dress a certain way, or even wear a lot of makeup, but it was a universal fact that she always looked fresh and pretty regardless.

“Good. He’s safer with them than he would be here.” Jin rose from the sofa, his smooth features serious, “The immunity rule doesn’t apply to him, anyone is free to try and kill Jungkook tonight.”

Sohwa turned to face Jimin with pursed lips, both of them uncomfortable. Jimin was Jungkook’s best friend, the two of them had been inseparable since they met over ten years ago, they even attended the same university and majored in the same subjects. To an outsider, they seemed like the ultimate best friends, and Jin was secretly jealous of that.

Jin’s best friend Namjoon was a social butterfly, meaning he could speak to anyone and everyone without worry. Jin however, was more reserved and awkward - he only spoke to people if he knew it would benefit his career. It was his dream to work for the Jeon family, the wealthiest government officials in the city, firm advocators and leaders of the ‘anti-purge’ movement, who just so happened to be one of his closest friend’s parents.

“Yeah… I guess.” Sohwa noticeably winced, her eyes widening in surprise as a deafeningly loud alarm pierced her ears, prompting her to face the television. Without hesitation Jin closed the short distance between their bodies before gripping his sister’s hand tighter than ever, knowing she would be feeling the same agonising loss and ache inside her too.

It was time.

‘This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System... Announcing the commencement of the annual purge, sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class four and lower, have been authorised for use during the purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m. When the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers and America... A nation reborn. 

May God be with you all.’

“So… Drink anyone?” Jimin clapped awkwardly before ushering over a dozen people into the kitchen, leaving Sohwa and Jin alone in their large, luxurious living space.

“What if they come back for us? What if they find us?” Sohwa asked with a shaky voice, and it broke Jin’s heart, this was the third year in a row she’d asked him that self and same question.

“They won’t. You’re safe here.” He feigned a smile, his plump lips curving heavenward before opening to speak. “We have the best security in New York, nobody will even try.”

Before his sister had time to respond something caught Jin’s eye, earning him to curse under his breath as he let go of her hand and jogged over to the large window overlooking the city. The streets below him were surprisingly quiet, but that’s not what made his stomach churn with hatred and his throat burn with something that could only be described as boiling hot acid.

Min Yoongi, approaching a young woman on the blackened street. She looked familiar to Jin, though he couldn’t place why. Her clothes were short and preppy, the kind of style he would never allow Sohwa to wear, her hair was shoulder length and light brown, complimented by her olive skin.

“Sohwa. Do you know that girl?” Jin didn’t bother to turn around, he felt his sister’s presence behind him in an instant.

“No… She looks young, perhaps she’s a stude— Wait!” Sohwa gripped her brothers forearm, her eyes narrow as she tried to concentrate on the tiny figures below her. “Isn’t that… Renee?”

“Shit.” Jin watched as Yoongi closed in on his best friend’s girlfriend. What was she doing outside during the purge? Jin thought, panic rattling inside his muscular chest as he pulled his phone from his navy suit pants.

“Pick up…pick up, pick up, pick the fuck up.” He muttered mostly to himself, desperate for his best friend to answer his phone.

“Hello?” Namjoon said, surprised. “Jin? What’s up?”

“Renee is outside, I can see her from my apartment. She’s with Min Yoongi—“

“What?!” Namjoon raised his voice for the first time in years, “That’s not possible! She’s with her grandparents across state, they have a better security system than she—“

“I’m telling you I can fucking see her.” Jin snapped.

“I’m on my way.”

“Hurry. We both know what Yoongi is capable of.”

The phone call ended as abruptly as it began, Jin tried to see what Renee was doing but her small figure was simply too far away, and by the looks of things she and Yoongi had headed round a corner out of his line of vision. For fuck’s sake, he whispered, turning to face his sister.

“Are you sure that was Renee?” He held her gaze, his eyes piercing and strong as she looked to the floor.

“Yeah, I’d recognise her anywhere.” Sohwa nodded.

“I have to go.” Jin ran his fingers through his glossy black hair, chewing his lower lip nervously as he made his way to the elevator.

“You can’t go out there!” Sohwa screamed, earning the attention of everyone in the apartment. “Are you insane?! Purgers want you dead, going outside and giving them the chance to do it is fucking stupid! You can’t—“

“Sohwa you can’t stop me.”

“I’ll go.” Jimin shrugged nonchalantly as he lazily wandered toward the commotion with a mouth full of salmon appetisers, a few of Jin’s other friends in tow. “I’m in better shape than you and—“

“Well I wouldn’t say—“

“Let me finish. My point is whatever you’re trying to do will only get you killed, so just let me do it instead. I’m quick, I’m careful and if anybody saw you outside during the purge at the very least your career would be over, maybe worse.” Jimin reasoned with his friend, “Just let me go. Tell me what the problem is and I’ll fix it.”

“Renee is outside, the last time we saw her she was with Yoongi.” Sohwa explained, glancing out the window once more, concern glistening in her eyes. “God knows what he’d do to her if he had the chance… If he hasn’t already.”

Jimin’s brow rose in suspicion, even he knew it was way out of character for Renee and Namjoon to be apart, the two were usually inseparable. Jin’s stomach dropped at the sound of a gunshot outside, before he reminded himself there would be plenty more to come within the next 12 hours. Glancing to his blonde friend he nodded once, giving Jimin the okay to go outside.

“Be careful. Only use this if you need to.” Jin untucked a silver handgun from his black Gucci belt, ignoring his sister’s fierce gaze as her stare settled on the weapon. “If you’re not back within the hour, we’ll come and find you.”

“Thanks. I promise I’ll bring her back.” Jimin smiled, his gaze flitting between the two Kim siblings before he eventually pressed the down button on the elevator.

People watched on anxiously as he stepped inside the metal contraption, his face soon disappearing into the night. Jin knew he had to protect his sister as well as his closest friends, that was the whole point of throwing these parties. As his eyes scanned the room he noticed the undeniable fear behind every pair of eyes, a pang of guilt hitting him hard. The purge needed to end, his once crowded living space was now sparsely decorated with friends, this night had cost him so much. His parents, some of his closest friends, but he wouldn’t let anything, or anyone else be lost to this night.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He mumbled, referring to Sohwa’s eyes blown wide with rage.

“Like what?” She folded her arms, winning the bystanders in the room to escort themselves into the kitchen for another drink or five.

“Like you’re disappointed in me. I can take criticism from out there,” He gestured to the soon to be blood stained streets below, “But not from you.”

“Why do you have a gun?! After everything they did to mom and dad you go and buy the one thing that—“

“Guns don’t kill people Sohwa. People kill people, when are you going to grow up and realise that?” Regret instantly washed over Jin’s large frame, he sounded much colder than he intended. There was something about this night that drove him to insanity; perhaps it was the crippling grief he felt for his parents, or the white hot fear of losing the only family he had left.

“I’m sorry…” He sighed in defeat, “I didn’t—, I shouldn’t take things out on you.”

Rather than responding Sohwa scoffed in disbelief, her straight hair swishing from side to side as she shook her head. While she loved Jin with all her heart, it was evident he was trying to be her judge, jury and executioner all rolled into one; just like her father used to.

“I should sleep, the hospital will be crazy tomorrow morning… I need to be prepared.” Last year’s purge left Sohwa without a best friend, the morning after she headed into work as normal, ready to save the lives of those affected by the purge. Little did she know she’d be identifying the barely recognisable body of her longest and closest friend, Rylee.

“Sure.” Jin nodded once, too awkward to embrace his sister even though he knew she was hurting. Their relationship had never been perfect, Jin couldn’t even remember the last time he told her he loved her, or even gave her a brotherly hug. That was just the way things were, how they always had been. His expression was passive as he watched her climb the stairs to her bedroom, not sparing him a second glance.

It was at that moment the huge glass window shattered, a blinking device rolled onto the carpet and mocked Jin for what would be his final moments. A huge explosion followed, marbled red and orange flames erupted throughout the apartment. The loud, deafening bang was shadowed by a rainfall of debris, dark angry smoke twisting and turning, covering every corner of the apartment.

The night was still young, but the smell of burning flesh stained the air, crimson blood decorated the streets of New York and this year’s purge was officially well and truly underway.

#bangtanwriters-net #jungk0oksthighs #the purge #bts!purge #purge!bts #ot7 fic #bts fic #bts au #seokjin #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #yoongi #hoseok #bangtan #jungk0oksthighs halloween week

[streamingfanatic1963]

Article: Body language expert reveals the truth about Ivanka Trump and Donald Trump's relationship

Body language expert reveals the truth about Ivanka Trump and Donald Trump's relationship

[khiphop-stories]

Jay Park - Unspoken Rule Pt.3

“What if it’s true?” Jay mumbled under his breath. He slowly raised his head again and stared at you, waiting for your reply. His heart was racing uncontrollably fast and with every passing second of silence he grew more and more nervous. And maybe he even felt a bit insecure. He was sure he read the signs right, but now the confidence he had before slowly abandoned him.



“It wouldn’t matter,” you turned your eyes away from him and shook your head at him. “Because I wouldn’t jeopardize my friendship for a guy I barely even know.”

His expression softened and his lips curled upwards into a weak smile. His eyes had widened, but he didn’t look very surprised. It was almost as if he had expected that answer.

~*~

The first thing I did the next day was to pay Ji Eun a visit. I know we had broken up, but I owed her at least that much. She was under the impression that I slept with one of her friends which wasn’t true.

“Hey,” I greeted her gently when she opened the door.

“What do you want Jay?” She threw a glare at me and although I didn’t expect her to welcome me with open arms, I still was a bit caught off guard by her cold and antagonistic reception.

“I didn’t have the chance to explain yesterda—” I began but she cut me off immediately.

“What is there to explain? You slept with my best friend only a few months after we broke up. Out of every girl you could have fucked, you chose her,” she began with her accusations.

“I didn’t fuck her,” I told her taken aback. She still thought the worst of me, like she always did. “This is not about sex!”

“Then was is it about? Getting back at me? Hurting me?” She asked me through gritted teeth, her voice growing louder.

“I never slept with her and even if I did, it would have nothing do with you! Not everything is about you!” I blurted out without thinking. And the moment these harsh words left my mouth I knew I shouldn’t have said them. I knew how much it would hurt her.
 But the way she accused me of things I didn’t do without even giving me a chance to explain myself, acting as if I was the most evil person on earth reminded me of old times and it made my blood boil. I endured it for too long and I wasn’t going to go through it all again.

“So what? You’re in love with her now?” She asked in a mocking tone as she left out a short chuckle.

“I didn’t say that. But I’m not gonna lie, I do like her,” I admitted and her eyes widened in surprise. 

“Look, I’m sorry for the way things turned out and you can be mad at me all you want, but she didn’t do anything wrong.”



“Be honest, why are you here?”
 She looked at me in disbelief.


“Maybe it was a mistake. I thought we were past this, but it looks like you’re still holding a grudge against me. I’m sorry for how things ended. And I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. But I’m not sorry for liking her.”



“So what? You’re trying to get off with her now?”


“I’m not here to get your permission,” I shook my head at her, having enough of this interrogation. I got dumped the night before and I wasn’t in the mood to discuss it with my ex-girlfriend. I hated to admit it, but it did hurt my pride.

“Then why are you here Jay?” She hissed at me.

“Because after everything we’ve been through, I thought you deserved a proper explanation. I know you’re upset and I’m properly the last person you wanna see right now, but I…I just thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Sure, because you always do the right thing,” she said sarcastically and let out a scoff in mock. And in this particular moment all of our past fights flooded my mind again. I recalled how we would fight about the same things over and over again, just like we did now.

“Are we really doing this again? We had this fight countless of times already.”

“Why her? Why her out of all people?”

“I don’t know,” I shook my head slowly. “It’s not like I purposely chose to like her to get on your nerves. It just happened.”

“So what’s next? Are you going to date her?” She looked at me with a painful expression planted on her face.

“You know her. You know her better than me,” I answered.

“She doesn’t want to,” she concluded and I saw a sparkle of hope in her eyes.



“No, she does. But she values your friendship more,” I corrected her.


“And you’re just taking ‘no‘ as an answer? That’s not the Jay I know.”

“I’m not gonna force her. I can be persistent I admit, but I never forced myself on anyone.”

“You’ve always been considerate,” she said in a whisper as she slowly dropped her gaze. Her voice this time sounded softer and more calm.

“I do have my good points, don’t I?” I laughed to loosen up the atmosphere which suddenly got so tensed.

“… you don’t need to hold back because of me,” she then said after a brief pause of silence, gaining a confused look from me. 



“Just treat her well,” she released a little smile which only lasted for about a second.  I was startled at her change of heart. I thought she was going to resent me until the end of time. But instead she was giving me her blessings. It didn’t know what triggered that change, but I wasn’t interested in finding out either. I could finally talk to her in a civilized manner and I didn’t want to lose that. This wasn’t the time to question her motives.

~*~


Jay had cleared the misunderstanding and Ji Eun told you she was fine with it, if you ever wanted to start things with him. However, you knew that was not how she truly felt. You knew she was hurt. After all, she still loved him. She still loved and cared about him, but he had already moved on. You could only imagine how hard it was for her, although she tried her best to hide it. After clearing the misunderstanding, you never talked about it again. You both avoided it, because you didn’t know what to say. There was no right or wrong in this case. There was nothing you could say to ease her pain and there was nothing you could do about the way you felt about him. No matter what happened from this moment onwards, one of you was bound to get hurt.

~*~

It was only a matter of time, until you bumped into Jay again. Though you did secretly hope to delay this encounter for as long as possible. You even played with the thought of declining the invitation to the opening of the new store of a luxury brand where Jay was scheduled to perform until you realized how childish it was. It wasn’t like you to run away and avoid unpleasant affairs. There wasn’t even much of a problem, since Jay had cleared the misunderstanding and Ji Eun told you she was fine with it. But 
It was your guilty conscience that stood in the way. You didn’t know how you should behave around him. You declined him once, but you weren’t sure whether you would be able to do that again. You didn’t trust yourself around him.

Although you had green light, you didn’t want to start things with him. It was already painful enough for her, you didn’t want to twist the knife in her heart. You tried your best to avoid running into Jay the whole event. You didn’t even dare to look at him. It was only one brief moment where you let you let your guards down. When you looked up from the glass of champagne in your hand. That was the moment your eyes met his. He was looking straight at you before signaling you to follow him.

“Dammit,” you cursed under you breath, pondering for a second what to do. If you didn’t follow him, it would be more than obvious that you were avoiding him. But if you did go, things could turn to the worse.

In the end you decided to go along. He was waiting in the hallway which led to the rest room.

“What’s up?” You asked him casually, trying not to show too much interest. But your voice was wavering towards the end and you wondered whether he heard your nervousness.


“You’re avoiding me,” he said straight-forward without an ounce of hesitation.

“How did you get that idea?” You let out a short chuckle.

He didn’t answer your question, instead he only looked at you with piercing eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows as though he was concentrating on something. He was trying to read your facial expression.



“What are you so afraid of?” He asked out of the blue, catching you off guard. Your eyes widened at him and you swallowed down hard.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Then why can’t you look at me?” He pointed out.

You let out a sigh and finally lifted your head, turning your eyes to him to prove him wrong. But the moment you locked eyes with him, shivers went down your spine and your heart began to pound against your chest in a dangerously fast pace.

“You know what’s confusing? Your words and your actions. They don’t match.” He took a step closer and you immediately backed off to maintain the distance between you and him. 

 You gave him a warning look a. “Jay, what do you want?”



“I want you to be honest with yourself,” he answered simply. “You like me,” he stated as if it was a fact.

You rolled your eyes at him and let out a chuckle. “You wish.”

“I do,” he replied making you eyes widen as you didn’t expect him to say that “Because I like you.”

“I should go back,” you hurriedly said.



“See? You are avoiding me!”



Your eyes darted through the hallway, looking everywhere but at him.



“Why? Because you’re afraid you might jump at me?” He wriggled his eyebrows teasingly, smirking at you.



“Oh please, you’re not that attractive,” you rolled your eyes at him and gently pushed him backwards to increase the distance between the two of you.

“Oh really?” He held you by your waist while looking straight at you. You held the eye contact, trying not to break away from it. As you knew if you were the first one to turn away, he would see through your lies. 

Jay took one step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. You gulped down hard and you automatically moved backwards. He smiled to himself, knowing he had won.


“Stop.”



“If you really want me to stop, then stop giving me all these signs. Because your eyes are telling me differently,” he slowly leaned in closer and you could feel how the blood rushed through your veins.

“Even now, your words don’t match your body language,” he took another step forward and at almost the same time you retreated and your back hit the wall. You put your hand on his chest to stop him from coming closer. You intended to push him away, but instead you just rested your hand there.
 His eyes were still fixed on you. And the intense gaze that he had made you feel as if you were stripped down naked. As though he could see right through you. He rested his forehead against yours, waiting for you to do something. Anything. To push him away or to pull him closer. He stood still, making clear that the choice was yours.

You dropped your gaze down onto the floor, without moving an inch. You clenched your hand which lay on his chest into a tight fist. You couldn’t think clearly, his scent was flooding your senses. Your breathing quickened as did his. You urged yourself to push away, but you couldn’t. And then you lifted your head. Slowly. Until your lips brushed against his. His lips were soft and warm. He tilted his head to the side and kissed you. Tenderly and with caution. His hands were wrapped around your waist and yours locked around his neck pulling him down slightly. And you felt his victorious smirk against your lips.

You pulled away to catch your breath and he licked his lips satisfied. Seeing the confident smirk on his face you quickly turned away embarrassed, wondering what exactly happened in these few seconds, that led you to lose control.

“So, you’re still gonna insist that you’re not slightly attracted to me?” He challenged you with a chuckle.

“Damn you Jay,” you rolled your eyes at him, admitting defeat.



“Let me take you out on a date,” he said out of the blue and you looked at him surprised. It was obvious you both were aroused and he could have had you right then and there. Yet he asked for a date.

“I’m not that easy, baby. I have a three-dates-rule,” he said jokingly and you laughed at him.

“You in?” He quirked up one his eyebrows questioningly.

You looked at him unsure. You wanted nothing more than to accept his invitation. You wanted to go on dates with him. You wanted to get to know him. You wanted to be with him. You wanted him. But you just couldn’t reconcile with your conscience. There was this little voice at the back of your head, repeatedly telling you that it was wrong. That you shouldn’t give in to your momentarily cravings.

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