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cybiluncivilised · 3 years

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Yucky Dirty Medieval People

So, I posted a video about this to TikTok, in which my hair is awful and I framed it badly... I think the worse my videos are the more comfortable I feel putting them up.

I keep seeing videos and posts on how people were not dirty in the medieval era and apparently we're still needing to get the message across. I've seen a couple of people mention that Medieval People (people from an incredibly broad 1000 year era in history) thought that water wasn't good to wash with because it spread disease. This was a renaissance era belief, apparently, and we have very clear guidance on bathing and when and how to do it in the medieval era.

I actually am not a huge expert on this, but think it's worth discussing. In the parts of Europe the Reenactment Soc I'm in represents, bathing was discussed as a very decadent and vane thing to do very often. I tend to take the opinion that if someone was complaining about it, then people were definitely doing it.

I would really appreciate if someone who had better knowledge than me tagged me in a post that basically covers good facts and resources on this! I'd det it up for a scheduled reblog quarterly to make sure people kept seeing it because why are we talking about this?

It was a lot of effort to get a nice warm bath going and in the cooler places like the United Kingdom you were starting with basically colder water but people are recorded to have still bathed in rivers. People definitely sponge bathed often with linen cloths and towels, they definitely took measures to smell nice including wearing perfume and brushing their teeth. What they had and how well these things worked depended on where and how people lived, a lord might chew on a piece of cardamon for sweeter breath and a peasant would go for something more like mint.

I also personally believe what was considered "clean" and what was considered "moral" were very linked in those days. The line between being pious and being clean were a little blurred, I mean. Right now it's easy to see that being clean in a world of disease and infection is a social responsibility. A person who doesn't practice good infection control is a "bad person".

When I see more discourse on how people covered their hair as a religious principal it really hammers it home for me. Protecting hair keeps it cleaner, we know this. People washed their hair less often, but they covered it up because it's just absolutely unheard of, vane, unpious, to not do so.

Clothes

This is what I actually made my TikTok about.

I went on a pilgrimage with our Master at Arms (the person who inspects all the hard kit in our society) and we got lovely and muddy! I left my stuff with him, because he was going to wash his kit he may as well wash mine as well. Honestly, I was tired, lazy, and just couldn't be bothered to carry two bags home from his instead of one. I KNEW that there was a high chance he wouldn't do it straight away. I KNEW what would happen if he didn't. I feel guilty for putting him in that position but the repercussions are mine to deal with so that's ok. His stuffs fine so ladeedahhhh XD

People absolutely, completely, definitely washed their clothes pretty much as soon as they got muddy. Having sat and made this kit, knowing that fabric was more expensive as a proportion of your costs overall and that you'd actually want to look after these things, knowing the labour I put into these garments, I know no one would let this happen.

I'm going to keep working on washing these. I could pick up some materials to make lie from my parents, who have a log burner, but I'll give handwashing with a bar of soap a go.

This is, for me, a demonstration of how important experimental archaeology is. I could make a post on what I learned specifically from the pilgrimage.

Things I feel certain of, women probably wore winningas and I'm sure they pulled their skirts up, or at least their underskirt somehow. Just avoid getting mud on your linens, if you can. Wool seems to cope better with it in general, or maybe ours did because ours were all in brown and brown adjacent colours.

Winningas are long strips (like, 10-14') of about 3" wide, hemmed wool, secured around the foot and calves under or sometimes instead of shoes.

We did speculate that a lot of people would get more comfortable with a wimple falling off during a long pilgrimage but I'm honestly thinking maybe not, still. I think that people who wore wimples and veils and such every day were much better ta wearing them than me.

Anyway, my reflections on medieval laundry are flawed by my personal feelings. I strongly feel that someone who spent money and time making something, in a world where being dirty might make you a "bad person" but also made you look poorer and everyone hates poor people, would want to keep their linens looking as good as possible. Linens had the function of protecting your outer clothes from sweat from your body, so it may have been an accepted fact that they were just "dirtier", even though their smell deterring, sweat whicking, purposes only actually worked if you washed them quite often - like at least twice a week maybe.

Maybe I should do a few weeks in medieval kit, tilling some land and such. See how well I can cope, mostly having sponge baths, mostly just washing the linens. Hahahaha

Thank you for reading, I really enjoyed getting this off my chest!

(I spent ten minutes earlier editing this post before posting it and it somehow still posted my earlier draft FFS so sorry if you read this the awful time round!!! It's super annoying that it did that and I'm super pissed thank you Tumblr.)

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 4 years

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12. Watch This

"Okay," Erik paused. "Wait." One more shallow curve of his small black blade. "You can look," Erik breathed, eyes alight with excitement. Slowly, his face lowered closer to her thigh, catching the details of his work. He had gone over it twice ensuring that the lines were cut evenly in width and depth, the curves round with no breaks or edges, the picture pristine and clear. There would be no mistaking this time of what he had crafted. He was sure that what he made.. was absolutely perfect. His best work yet.

Briefly he glanced at Ivy's face strewn with tears which stained her youthful cheeks and reddened her once cotton white scleras. She hadn't made a peep, but she couldn't stop her tears or the lip she'd bitten throughout the process. He thought she'd chew through it. That would've been fun to watch.

His thick fingers traveled through blood from her thigh, rubbing it between his stocky fingers, allowing to stain his skin red.

"Such a pure red."

Touching the droplets of blood once more, he tapped his stained fingers to his tongue. The taste was metallic from the iron.

"You know this shit is lethal? Yeah, that vampire shit is bullshit. It looks fun until you end up in the hospital." A lightbulb went off in his head.

-----

"Hey Ivy," his head tilted watching her with the sickly ghost of a smirk. Ivy could hear his breathing pick up. It was a bad sign. Tired of his games and exhausted from the knife torture, she refused to respond. Not even a look in his direction. She continued to purposely ignore him until she saw him lift the knife in his hand. She watched from the corner of her eye.

"I see you looking at me. Watch this."

Blood began to drip down his forearm from his hand. It seemed he'd stuck himself in the hand with his knife on purpose. Ivy frowned, her lip twisting like her brows.

"Now you just sat up here and said that shit would send somebody to the hospital. You ain't got nobody else to fuck with as it is. One half dead, already in the hospital, one hate your fuckin guts by now, and here you go again... on that bullshit."

"You calling me out, Ms. Stevens? You think I'm reckless?"

"Why the fuck you gotta bleed cuz I'm bleeding? We both injured in this bitch because you wanna be a serial sadist. For no reason you on that bullshit!"

Turning his arm, he held his hand to her lips. "Drink," he commanded, smearing it on her lips when she refused.

-----

Ms. Stevens was a firecracker. Even under her current circumstances, she was on his ass and Erik couldn't help but to smile. It was refreshing to deal with a woman who was not so easily tamed. It meant she could take more of his art.. more play.. and he could push the envelope even further. , his attention returned her thigh. It looked even better with his changes.

"If this shit wasn't toxic, I'd lick it off your thigh," he sighed rubbing the skin he hadn't cut. He couldn't drink it because of the amount of iron that's in blood. A slight muscle movement drew his eye to the junction of her thighs.

"Wait, did that turn you on?"

Ivy's face screwed tightly into a tiny expression that read 'how the fuck?'

"Are you on crack cocaine?!" She was so fiery.

He hoped that part of her was actually turned on. Not that he'd fuck her, but he'd have a lot of fun exploring why exactly she was turned on.. making her explain it to him in detail. Maybe he'd cut her a slight break and leave her tied up for the night, check on her mom, carry on the next morning. It sounded like a plan.

"Whose this," he mumbled pulling his phone from his pocket. It'd vibrated and looking at the screen, he could see his security cameras had picked up a police car outside. He had company. If it was that dick-hungry officer, then maybe he could really have some fun.

"You stay put," he pointed to Ivy leaving her on her own still tied as he closed the soundproof door. He'd had installed and tested with the twins. Standing on one side, he'd had them yell as loudly as they could muster the other side. No sound had come through. This meant Ivy had no chance of ruining his fun.

He had to rinse his hand and arm of blood, bandaging it quickly and he had to check his clothing for blood. Finding a spot on his shirt, he scooted quickly to his bedroom hamper to toss it in. The doorbell alerted him that he had no time to waste. Chest bare, he walked coolly through his corridor to the front door, cracking it to where only a sliver of himself was seen

"Officer Howard," he greeted brows high. Perfect.

"You have a good memory," her head tilted looking him in the eye.

"I don't forget beautiful women easily, especially the ones who bring their own handcuffs," he smirked.

She shook her head. He could see in her humored expression she was into him, but why had she come?

"What brings you over here Officer?" He blatantly looked her up and down hoping that she noticed. His eyes roamed details of her uniformed curves before moving back up to focus in on her flattered freckled face. She was alone, no backup.

"I'm actually here to ask you a few questions.... What else can you tell me about Ivy Stevens?"

This late? Damn.

"You mean the young lady who tried to ruin my career and try my character," Erik sighed resting a hand high on the door frame so that his body was even more on display. What was she asking him for? Did it look like had anything to do with that girl?

The way Officer Howard ogled his chest and arm muscles, looking over his pattern of scars, he wondered if she'd actually drop her guard. Then he could have the upper hand. She gave a tight smile, nodding empathetically.

"Sorry to bother you at home, but as I said.. protocol. You mind letting me in?"

"You gonna arrest me if I don't?"

Her eyes narrowed but there was a hint of a smile on her.

"Cuz I might like that," he teased holding out his wrists. When Officer Howard smirked, he chuckled and opened the door wide for her. He had the perfect spot to lead her to.

In the parlor, he went straight to the bar which was covered with various liquor bottles. The custom wine rack was of reclaimed wood and held 40 bottles of wine. He held his hand out over the bottles on the bar.

"Pick your poison."

-----

"Rum and coke."

Settling on the white plush velvet couch, Trinity looked around the room noting the paintings. This was a man who loved art.

"..Since you're offering," she added.

The art seemed purposely rough, textured. Wild horses mid-run and green forestry. It all seemed average enough.. masculine and active. Seemed to fit Dr. Stevens well.

"What's that," Trinity nodded toward the glass Dr. Stevens hovered above. He'd just drizzled an off white semi translucent glaze into it.

"Coconut syrup..," he paused. "You ain't never mix it in your rum & coke," his brow raised. Trinity rolled her eyes as he tsked. "What type of wackass liquor you been drinking Ms. Howard?"

She bristled at the unexpected profanity. She knew she had a potty mouth, but his caught her by surprise. She was really in his house. He was definitely more comfortable and free compared to when she'd first met him. He'd seemed a bit more uptight in his office. Blinking, she watched as he rubbed his hands together as if getting serious. This relaxed side of the good dentist really turned her on.

"I drink STRAIGHT rum mixed with coke," Trinity stressed slowly.

"Watch this." He ducked low and when he came up, he produced silver tongs holding a large clear and perfectly square ice crystal cube and a small white sack which he removed a brown mallet from before dropping in the cube.

Trinity was impressed. In level of class, he'd already surpassed every excuse for a grown man she'd been with. He knew how to cater to a woman like a real man ought to. If she could end this Ivy Ivy Stevens situation and confirm her location off in the islands or, hell, Mexico.. wherever. As long as she was breathing.. she could make a move on this man and claim a husband.

Wham! Wham! Wham!

Trinity watched his thick forearm as he slammed the mallet against the sack holding the crystal ice block. He had aggression, but it didn't touch his baby-like face.

"You caught me just in time. I was just about to shower," he smiled up, dumping the crushed ice into the glass filling it passed the rim.

"Mhm. Your markings," she gestured to her own chest, "Those are unique. What's uh.. what are those about?"

Someone had scarred him all up. That was worth remembering and recording. He didn't seem shy or ashamed, in fact he appeared to be parading his markings. Maybe he liked them. Maybe he'd had them done for whatever reason, which was odd. She hadn't figured him for a guy into those bizarre modifications. But then he surprised her with his profanity as well. He seemed more extreme or mischievous than what she'd originally thought. The thought came to her that maybe she should question him a bit more just to be thorough.

"My family is officially from Africa and in our tribe, it's not abnormal. It's simply cultural."

Trinity nodded as he juiced a fresh lime into the glass chasing it with half a can of coke, and topping it off with rum. After stirring, he handed her the rum and coke in the pint glass and returned to the bar pouring shot of vodka for himself.

"Cheers," he said raising his glass.

Trinity watched him as they drank in silence.

"You said you're from Africa. What country?"

"Wakanda."

"Isn't that near Kenya?"

"It is, you been to Kenya?"

"I haven't been past Mexico," Trinity scoffed. She'd gotten piss drunk there with friends after calling off work with a fake death in the family. It was a trip she couldn't miss. "I went by your office earlier to speak with you but it seemed that you were closed."

"No appointments. I went ahead and let my staff go home."

"Speaking of staff, how's Draya," Trinity stared, sipping her drink. She watched his eyes narrow briefly before lowering to his empty glass.

"She's in the hospital.. I'm sure you've heard about the attack."

"An ex attacked her," Trinity nodded. "There is something that's been bothering me." It was a thought that had only recently come. She decided to go ahead and get his reaction. "Reports say that Draya was covered in scars. Is she from Wakanda too?"

He met her eyes then, quiet. She'd touched a nerve.

"No, Ms. Howard. She is not."

"Had you ever seen her scars?" Trinity took another sip, watching the irritation build in his eyes.

"I have not. In what instance would I have possibly seen them?"

"You tell me," Trinity squinted. "And what happened to your hand?" This was actually going somewhere and she hadn't expected it to. He was defensive

"I have a suspicion," Trinity stood looking around. She walked around the room touching random items that stuck out to her.

"And what is your suspicion?"

She turned at the edge in his voice. She was really hitting on something now. His brow was raised, arms crossed.

"I'll ask you once more time about Ivy Stevens. I'm beginning to think you did something to the girl. Unless you can change my mind, I might have to make you my suspect number one."

-----

Erik watched as Officer Howard moved around. She was getting nosier and thinking entirely too much. It was irritating and the more it went on, the more he couldn't hide it.

However.. He'd anticipated this when he'd seen her face. It was a good thing he'd invested in soundproof walls, she'd have probably called the department and had Ivy escorted out by now.

He poured himself another shot as she watched his movements.

"I told you what I knew," he said simply, a countdown starting in his head as he took a sip of his drink. He watched as she paced and moved his items around.

30 seconds.

Her feet crossed. She'd almost lost her balance.

"I somehow doubt that and I'm going to find out your level of involvement because something ain't adding up."

"Mhm," he sighed with another sip. As she rambled, he counted. 15, 14, 13..

"You're awfully silent now," she frowned. She looked physically uncomfortable, overheated. Her freckled skin developing a sweat sheen.

"Am I?" He chuckled.

"That's funny to you?"

"You're a joke," he laughed. "Don't hit your head on the way down."

She lowered her chin, a threat in her eyes. "Excuse you?"

"You feeling dizzy yet?" He could tell she was. She reached for her pocket and he ducked behind the bar, popping with a gun before she could touch anything in her pocket. He didn't even get to threaten her, she passed out, her body thudding to the floor, her head hitting the corner of the couch. He checked to see if there was blood, but there wasn't. She would probably wake with a heavy headache.

#original #dentist

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lobster-peach · 4 years

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The Girls Bathroom

•••

Part 1

Part 2 -

This is a short story I wrote for my 10th grade creative writing class and I thought I'd share:)

*trigger warnings*

Eating disorders

Mental disorders

Drug/alcohol use

Violence

Child predator/abuse mention

Implied suicide

Another night without sleep. It’s growing less uncommon now. I’ve taken so many things to help me sleep, you’d be surprised that something hasn’t worked by now.

My window is open. I’ve always liked it that way. It lets the night time air into my room, and it fills my lungs with the sweetest scent, that if it were bottled, I would keep it on me at all times. I’d be the girl people would ask what perfume I was wearing. I’d be the one they complimented. I’d be the one they talked to, in an admiring way.

The smell reminds me of my childhood home. It reminds me of the smell of a thick and damp forest. It reminds me of the silent happy times. I let the night breeze create ripples in my curtains.

And It’s peaceful.

It’s peaceful to watch a force of nature calmly move something as simple as a sheer white window curtain to the beat of its own rhythm. To make it move like it’s dancing in water.

I’m writing all my thoughts down again, like I do every time my mind won’t sleep. I’ve noticed that everything feels so surreal at these times. Everything is quiet, the moon is the only light source in sight, the wind making the only other movement besides myself, and the world is still. I lay on my back and stare up at the ceiling, just stare and think about the world, and about life. Stress comes and goes at these times but it usually doesn’t stay that long.

I think about my family, about myself, about strangers. I wonder if strangers do this too? Do they wear themselves out in the adventure we call curiosity?

I keep asking questions until I finally fall asleep to the sun peaking over the mountains.

...

I haven’t been to school in weeks. I haven’t actually left my room in weeks either, if you’re not counting the trips to the bathroom. I feel like I've just been a whirlpool of emotions. One second I feel fine, and the next I feel like I’m in someone else’s body, wanting to scream. But today- today is the day I’m changing that.

I get up, take a shower, and apply the minimum amount of makeup I actually have.

No one is awake in the house, so I slip out without a sound.

If I’m honest, I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to go to school now, because the second I stepped through the glass doors, I was bombarded with shouts, shoves, and the smell of axe body spray. But right as I was about to turn around, get back into my car, and drive far, far away from this hell-hole, the vice principal noticed me. I saw the shock, and excitement light up in her eyes.

She made a b-line for me.

There was no escape.

...

After an hour or so of sitting and listening to her gush about how much the school had missed me, and that if I "Ever needed anything to come talk to her, or any of the school faculty", I was able to leave her office. If I knew that I would get this bombarded with unwanted attention, I would have never left my house in the first place.

I would just dwell in the thought that I would have to make a living becoming a fast food worker, or selling my body to Sin City herself.

But that would still be better than this.

...

The brick walls of the school seemed to piss me off even more than they used to now. They seemed to mock me, to make me feel like even more of a failure, with their posters of encouragement and activities. I headed into the girls bathroom to take a breather. Everything starting to kick in. I dashed into a stall and let my empty stomach empty itself even more. Nothing had actually happened to trigger any sort of panic, and I hated myself for it even more. I hated the fact that I couldn't be around people with no filters. I hated that I couldn't sit still in class. I hated that I couldn't just be normal. And now I'm just sitting on the floor trying not to think. But then I hear a knock, and a voice, gently, and quietly asking if I'm alright. My eyes widen. I don't know why I didn't think I would be the only one in a public highschool's girl's bathroom. Theres a part of me that hopes if I stay silent then whoever it was on the other side of the door would go away. But the voice comes back a second time. Still quiet, still gentle, but more urgent. Sounding like they were actually worried. Coming to the conclusion that I can't hide, I stand up and open the door to see one of the school's cheerleaders, Vanny. Her real name was Savannah, but everyone only ever called her Vanny. She looked as surprised as I was when she saw who was standing in front of her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother you. I just heard.. gagging, and I wanted to make sure that whoever it was, was alri-”

I quickly cut her off.

“It’s okay! Really!”

Wow, I sound flustered.

“I just needed to let some things…uh… out.”

She let out a small breathy laugh at that.

“Yeah, I can tell.” she said

I can just feel the temperature in my cheeks raise at record breaking speed. My internal panic growing with it.

“I- uh- sorry…”

God, I'm a mess.

She lets out another laugh at that, but this time something that looked somewhat like sympathy showed in her eyes.

“Don’t be sorry. Really. I get it. It happens to me too.”

I gape at her a little.

But not so much that she would notice. Or at least I hope I so.

What on earth is happening.

But before I can even finish that thought, she's speaking again.

“I haven’t seen you around all year. I didn’t think about it that much till now. Do you wanna talk about it?”

She didn't wait for an answer and made her way into the handicap stall and sat against the wall. She just gestures for me to do the same. Part of me wonders if this was some kind of joke. If she had people outside the girls bathroom just waiting to torment me. But against my better judgement, I sit. I can't figure out how I am supposed to act, sit, or even breath. Is there even a right way to handle this?

She begins talking about her history with depression and anxiety. And normally when I hear someone say they have it, it’s not actually the “real deal” if you will. It’s just someone who thinks that it’s the end of the world when something unexpected and bad pops up in their life.

And I know it sounds terrible to judge a person like that, but it's just how things tend to be around here.

But she, she wasn’t like that.

She tells me everything. How she can’t sleep at night, so she goes on drives. And how she finds that puking her guts out, nasty and as toxic as it seems, feels a little like a release. She tells me about her “friends” and how much she wishes that she could talk to them about everything that’s going on. She just tells me everything. Every feeling she gets. Every reason a tear sometimes slips from her brown eyes.

Everything.

I didn’t know that a person could feel the same way I did. I didn’t know that I could understand a stranger more than myself in just 30 minutes.

These talks become a regular thing for us. After our second period classes, while the rest of the school left for lunch, we would go into the girls bathroom on the second floor. Into the handicap stall on the far right. And we would talk about everything.

Vanny was kind. She held the door for me when we were together, she spoke to me like a real person rather than a joke, and she felt like home. There were days however, where she didn’t talk to me. She would send me apologetic glances from across the room so I tried not to think too much about it. I understood. She had a reputation to uphold. And I wasn’t apart of that. If I was, everyone would think of it as a joke. That she was just getting close to me to make fun of me. That was the part I worried about.

I just wanted to mean something more to her than that.

I just wanted a friend.

Everyday that I spent with Vanny lead me into a deeper spiral of what I would call bliss. It was almost like, any trouble I had, any insecurity I had, she could instantly wash away with one look.

...

I was stopped at an intersection driving home from school, when I noticed the people in the car in beside me were fighting. I didn’t want to invade their privacy, but then I noticed who was sat in the passenger seat. Vanny. The guy, was much older. Dark grey hair, and stubble across his chin. He had his hand on her thigh. I couldn’t see what his expression was clearly, but I had a pretty solid guess. Vanny looked very uncomfortable, she slapped his hand away and said something with her brows furrowed. The guy just laughed and put his hand back. She tried to push it away again but the guy wouldn’t budge.

I decided to try calling her to make sure she was alright but the phone went straight to voicemail. I started to panic. I didn’t know what to do. I started to roll down the window and shout but the light finally changed to green and the car sped off. I wanted to change lanes and potentially follow them, but I couldn’t with all of the traffic of eager teeangers wanting to go home after a long day. I tried to try calling a few more times, but failed to get any sort of answer.

My phone was hot from being pressed to my cheek for so long. I got home and the house was empty once again. This time though, my heart sank. I didn’t know who to ask about what I should do.

Me, in my panicked state decided to call the police.

I started blurting out everything that happened but it didn’t help. Without the guys name, plate number, or address, there was nothing they could do besides go to Vanny’s house and see if she was there and OK.

I couldn't sleep. My mind was racing with all of the possible things that could be happening right then to my Vanny.

No.

Not my Vanny.

Just Vanny.

I got a call from the police station just hours later. They told me she was safe at home and that I had no reason to worry.

Everything was fine.

...

I still however rushed to school the next morning, calling and texting her trying to get some sort of insight to if she was really alright. I kept tapping my foot all through my first two periods. My mind couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than the thought of Vanny.

She needed to be okay.

What felt like years of waiting for that wretched bell to signal my release from this prison of unmatched bricks and books, it rang.

I all but ran to the second floor bathroom. And let me tell you, I have never been so happy to hear someone crying. I knocked on the door precisely six times to let her know it was me. I heard her shuffle and stand up. When the door unlocked I rushed in to hug her.

Her face was tear stained, but her eyes were empty.

We sat down and I held her.

Everything just felt... wrong.

I didn't know how to ask her what happened.

I didn't know if I even should.

She felt so fragile in my arms, that I was scared I would break her by saying anything else.

We sat in the bathroom in silence for the rest of the day.

I just let her cry.

At the end of the day I offered to take her home but she fervently said no.

I took her to my house instead, only so I could make sure she was safe.

...

The car ride home was quiet. I was waiting for the right time to ask her about what had happened but I still just didn't know how.

She had stopped crying hours ago but she kept the same empty look in her eyes.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye, just staring at the passing houses.

Her brown hair falling over her shoulders like silk.

I finally spoke up.

"Savannah, what happened?"

She jumped at the sudden sound of my voice.

I couldn't tell if she was going to answer or start crying again.

She was so unreadable.

But her dry lips parted, and her voice rasped out.

"My..."

She breathed out, sounding so wounded.

I had pulled the car into an empty grocery store parking lot and faced her.

"My stepfather... tried t-to...."

She couldn't finish. Her eyes welled up again with tear and she broke.

Her face buried in her hands.

I didn't know what to say.

So many thoughts were racing through my head.

I couldn't speak.

I just stared at her completely horrified.

I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.

She lifted her face and looked me in the eyes.

"Please don't tell anyone."

"Vanny we have to call the cops we-"

"No!" She yelled, I had never heard her yell.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone. Not your family, not any teachers, not the police."

She was urgently begging me.

"Vanny I can't just let this be. This is serious. He needs to be put in prison for this-"

"Please." She said once more.

"Please."

I looked at her.

Red, wide, eyes staring deep into my soul.

"I-I can't..."

...

I called the police once we got to my house explaining everything.

They got a warrant to search Vanny's stepdad's things and found digital folders of child pornography. They didn't have enough to charge him with the assault, but the files were enough to put him away.

When it happened, Vanny didn't speak to me for weeks.

She was convinced I had betrayed her.

But she eventually came back.

#wlw advice #wlw aesthetic #wlw blog #wlw mood #wlw post

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headoverjojo · 5 years

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Hi, sorry for spamming your ask box! I've already send a request a couple of days ago, but I've got one more. You may be familiar with the headcanon about Ghiaccio being a former top level athlete, yes? I'd like a scenario where he is at a ski resort after a mission and an olympic champion happens to be training there. He recognizes Ghiaccio and starts making fun of him, so Ghia is super pissed and challenges him to a competition. Ghia might be with some of his teammates if you feel like it.

Hello there, darling! You’re not absolutely spamming and I’m so sorry for the delay!! Gomen ç.ç I hope I could make amend with this scenario!

(Shoutout to all Italian readers: I’m just saying Alberto Tomba in Alex l’Ariete. Y’all know)

Ghiaccio gets hot-headed at a ski resort

(Under the cut for length!)

It was unusual to be sent so far from South Italy, even if, sometimes, it happened, since now Passione was expanding also to the North. Still, since he left his homeland years ago, Ghiaccio never had the chance to return here, on the mountains that saw him grow up, that had been his first ski run, where he learned how to skate and ski. Those mountains, the ones which, one day, would have been the Olympic Mountains, saw him train and train until he reached the top, winning a competition after another, tireless. They saw him becoming a professional athlete and then losing everything.

“Aaah, Ghiaccio, so you grow up here! What a nice place!” Melone’s voice made him blink, tearing him out of the vortex of memories. He sighed, grabbing his friend from his scarf, not to lose him around. Sestriere wasn’t as big as the chief town, but still, it was easy to get lost.

“Yeah, yeah, it was. Now let’s go to the ski runs, I have some steam to blow off.” he grumbled, tugging him to the resort. They have still a couple of days, before having to go back to the HQ, so why not taking advantage of it? A little vacation, two days skiing. Just that. Skiing always helped him to relax… and, after the last mission, he needed it. He was all ready to beat the target in a pulp, but Melone’s babyface took initiative and, instead of just tracking and blocking the target, it killed him, leaving Ghiaccio without anything. He was pissed.

Melone knew just the basic of skiing, but like hell he would have asked Ghiaccio to teach him. Better killing himself than that. So, they rented two pairs of ski skates and headed out. Or, well, they were almost out when a voice froze Ghiaccio on spot.

“Ghiaccio?!” Ghiaccio’s azure head slowly turned around, distress already evident in his icy eyes, and his fears were confirmed: a man in a ski suit, bright dark eyes and brown curls was coming towards him, almost marching.

Melone’s breath almost stopped when the stranger enveloped Ghiaccio in a bear hug, not returned, giving him loud “amicable” smacks on the back, making his glasses hopping a little at every hit. Oh god he was going to kill him, Melone thought, covering his face -just not to have it splotched with blood- and waiting for White Album’s user’s strike. Just… it didn’t happen.

Melone peeked from his fingers, shocked: Ghiaccio was enduring that. Yes, he seemed on the verge of an aneurysm, but still hadn’t killed the other. It was amazing.

“Ghiaccio, my god, it’s been years…! How are you? Last time I checked you were about to be closed in prison!” he said, making Ghiaccio even more pissed. How much he hated that period…

“I’m doing fine.” he grumbled, earning another smack on his shoulders. Melone winced and that attired the stranger’s attention.

“Ah, are you one of Ghiaccio’s friends? God, it sounds crazy to know he may have friends… I’m G/N. I and Ghiaccio trained together, years ago! He was about to become an olympic athlete as well, but, you know… his temper got in the way. Too hot-headed for the ski runs!” he said, laughing, shaking Melone’s hand. Ah, it was so…?

He smirked at the thought of what Illuso would have done -and given- to be at his place and grasping so many information.

“Ah, it’s a pleasure! I’m Melone. So you knew each other since long time, uh? Ghiaccio, you never told me you knew an olympic champion!” he said, adding fuel to the fire. Ghiaccio grumbled again, obviously unhappy, darting a warning look to Melone.

“Really? Ghiacciolino, I’m offended!” the other complained, keeping the assassin, smaller than him by a good head, under his arm.

“Have he ever told you why we called him Ghiaccio?” - he laughed at Melone’s negation. - “Because he was always with his ass on the ice, during skating lessons! And so here Ghiaccio came out!” he said, while Ghiaccio’s ears were growing red in embarrassment. Melone glanced at the other stand user, considering how much was wise to provoke him.

“Ooh, I see! And he was talented, I’ve heard.” he said, while the other nodded, shaking Ghiaccio’s form in an apparently affectionate gesture. Ghiaccio was almost trembling in rage.

“Yeah, he was! Still, not enough to reach top tier levels, obviously. He was a bit slow on the runs!” he exclaimed and Melone had to stifle a laugh. Oh, if only he had known how fast Ghiaccio was now…!”

“Ah, so he was slow?” he repeated, teasingly, immensely enjoying Ghiaccio’s face. He was definitely having an aneurysm right now.

“Enough!” he almost screamed, startling the athlete, while Melone just smirked. The breaking point had been reached.

“What about a little race, G/N? Like old times?” the assassin proposed, smoking of rage but trying to keep a cool tone. Risotto would have ripped his skin off if he would have risen even the slightest suspicion. They were la Squadra di Esecuzione, ghosts who brought death. They couldn’t be noticed.

“Why not! It’ll be fun. Like old times, eh? Then be ready to eat snow, Ghiacciolino!” G/N said, laughing and heading out. Ghiaccio stayed a bit behind, teeth grinding. Melone neared him, with the faintest smirk.

“Are you going to cheat, eh?” he murmured, walking with him. Ghiaccio scoffed, almost marching.

“I don’t need White Album to win over that fucker.” he grumbled, hopping on the cableway. Melone snickered, sitting near him, while the cableway slowly made its way to the runs’ start. Oh, this was something he didn’t want to lose…

Once arrived, Ghiaccio put himself near the former friend, his hands well tight around the ski battens. He glanced over the man, putting on the goggles, determined. He wasn’t going to lose to an asshole like him.

Melone gave them the start and they sprinted down the run, fast as bullets. Ghiaccio glanced to the rival, how smoothly he was moving, of course result of infinite trainings, while he, well… he was a bit rusty on it. Still… he wanted to win. He had to demonstrate that he could do it. He was a mafia man, a feared assassin!! He was an elite member of an elite squad. He couldn’t lose. It was personal.

And so he pushed and pushed, as he never did before, just to smack on his shitty face his victory. He had to do it, he wanted to do it. For all the years of humiliation, for every joke he made about him, his shortness, his glasses…

Ghiaccio was so enclosed in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice how much he was pushing and that he had surpassed G/N. He almost didn’t notice even the finish line and had to abruptly stop before ending on the safety cords. Melone was watching in amazement, from the cableway, as the two catched their breath. What a run…! He smirked, seeing the dismay on G/N’s face. Never underestimate a stubborn asshole like Ghiaccio…

“So, it seems that Ghiaccio got faster, in those years!” Melone cheerfully exclaimed, hopping down the cableway. The “champion” was still astonished by Ghiaccio’s performance, while the latter was removing the goggles, a small smirk on his lips.

“It seems so. Well, it was fun, G/N… maybe next time you’ll be luckier.” Ghiaccio said, smirking, giving him his back and heading back to the mountain retrait, with Melone near him.

“Do you have recorded everything, don’t you?” he asked, making Melone chuckle and hiding his mouth behind his fingers, in a false gesture of regret.

“Oops. Well, it’s not like I’ve filmed something bad, in the end, eh?” he replied, making Ghiaccio smirk even more.

“You’re right. Make sure that Illuso see it, I love when he’s all grumpy.” he added, making Melone laugh again.

It had been really a good idea stopping at his old hometown, all in all.

#jjba #vento aureo #la squadra di esecuzione #ghiaccio #melone #skiing ghiaccio #scenario #sfw #anon ask

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iamknicole · 5 years

Text

Fight

Bloodline Family Series / Parental Paragraphs

"Aye, Milo."

Taking his head out of his locker for a moment, Milo looked at his classmate with his brow raised. He was trying to switch his math book for his Spanish one while he waited for his cousins to meet him. They always walked to their third period class together.

"Your mama comin' to the game Friday?"

Milo rolled his eyes as he continued with what he was doing. "She's always at my games, VJ. Everybody knows that."

Milo watched VJ's two friends laugh and whispered behind him. His patience was starting to wear thin. Milo and his cousins never messed with VJ or his friends. Not their type of people.

"So, shit," he shrugged, "That mean your fine ass aunties comin' too then?"

"And so are my uncle's and my dad. You wanna say that shit to them? Cause I'm sure they'd love to hear it."

"Stop being so hostile, man. Just put in a good word for me and my boys. We know they fine asses get real lonely when they men ain't here."

Milo slammed his locker, cradling his Spanish book on his other hand. He glared at the three boys, he could feel his face start to heat up. "And what the hell would they want with y'all?"

"They look like they could use some dick," VJ said grabbing onto his dick. "Especially ya moms. Her face always tore up, ya pops must not know what he doin."

"Get outta here talkin about my mama. Don't get messed up."

VJ and his friends laughed as other students started to notice the tension. "Stop bein like that, Milo. I'm tryna help. Ya moms is just my type too. Small waist, nice titties and a fat ass. Shit, aunties got ass too."

As VJ threw his head back to laugh, Milo dropped his book and swung. His fist connecting with VJ's jaw. The hit knocked VJ off his feet. His friends that were once laughing now stood silently, watching their friend for his next move. None of them expected that from Milo. Just as VJ picked himself up a small crowd started to form around the boys, VJ's friends faded back into it.

"Your soft ass hit me in my fuckin' mouth. Ya ass can't take a joke?" VJ complained holding his jaw.

Milo huffed ignoring the pain in his hand. "Don't talk about my mama or my aunties. I told you that."

"I say whatever the fuck I wanna say. You got lucky that time, next time you better hope you don't miss."

"Whatever, bruh. Keep them out ya mouth."

"How bout this? You tell them to keep my dick outta they mouths then withcha bitch ass."

Milo attacked VJ's face and upper body with repeated blows. VJ was able to get two hits in before Milo tackled him to the ground. Those punches only pissed Milo off even more.

While Milo was beating VJ up, Eli and Koda were coming out of the stairwell. They were held up by their literature teacher. Koda saw the crowd and pointed it out to his cousin.

"Bet it's some hoes fightin'," Eli joked.

Koda laughed as they approached the cirlcle. "Let Auntie hear ya ass say that shit."

They boys bowed their way through the fight. They laughed at their peers who were screaming for someone to break it up and at the ones recording the fight. But when they got to the middle, their smiles were gone. Milo was still on top of VJ, VJ was attempting to fight back but it wasn't working. Milo was beating his ass. Both boys cursed to themselves before pulling Milo off of the boy. As they were pulling Milo back, the assistant principal and the principal came barreling through the tight circle with school security in tow. School security and principal grabbed the cousins up, escorting them to the office while the assistant cleared the other students and checked on VJ. The cousin got thrown inside the principal's office. The security left them with the principal.

"I expect this kind of behavior out of you two," Principal Brown said looking at Koda and Eli. "But you, Mr. Fatu. I'm shocked that you allowed your cousins pull you into this mess."

Eli sucked his teeth and threw his hands up. "I'm real offended that you think that low of me, Mr. Brown. It wasn't even me, I was the peace maker. Koda too."

"Peace maker my foot. You just close your mouth until your parents get here."

"Forreal," Koda stressed. "The fight had started before we even got there. We broke it up, Milo was beatin' VJ ass."

"Watch your mouth, Mr. Reigns. Is that true, Mr. Fatu?" He asked with the phone to his ear.

Milo said nothing, he stared straight ahead. Opening and closing his fists.

"It's true," Eli answered loudly, "I ain't get nan lick in. Cuzzo ain't let us get a two piece, nothin. Straight dogged VJ ass."

"I was talking to that Mr. Fatu. Not you, Eli." Mr. Brown said dialing the first number. "And watch your mouth."

"I just got a question. Why they get 'Mr." and I'm just Eli. That's messed up, Mr. Brown. Thought we were better than that."

All three sets of parents pulled up at the same time. The men allowed their wives to go in front of them. Jimmy and Trinity were pissed, they didn't have time to deal with Eli and his attitude. Kandice and Roman were annoyed, Koda was always following up Eli. They were sure whatever happened could have been avoided. Apryl and Jey were upset that Eli no good ass couldn't stay his ass out of trouble therefore Milo couldn't stay his ass out of trouble. Simba was just happy to be out of the house and able to go to Milo's school. He skipped in between the group of parents. The secretary allowed them into the conference room where the principal had moved the boys. Jimmy and Trinity went straight to Eli, both of them slapping him in the back of his head.

"Yoooo," he sung out holding his had, "Yall wild. That wasn't even me! It was Creed over there."

Kandice twisted Koda's ear. "What did you do?"

"Me? Im the most innocent thing sittin' in here. Mike Tyson over there knocking people out and that one said hoes again. It's them Fatu boys, Mama. I'm an angel."

Roman smacked the back Koda's neck, glaring down at him.

"I'm just sayin', Pop."

"How about you don't say anything?" Roman warned.

Simba climbed into his brother's lap, the parents sat on either side of their children waiting for the principal to tell them what happen.

"Seems that you sons were involved in a fight with another boy. The boy is bruised up pretty bad, there's an ambulance on the way for him."

"Ambulance? What did y'all do?" Trinity asked glaring at her son. "Yall jumped that boy? For what?"

"What? No! We," Eli stressed pointing to himself and Koda, "didn't get nan lick in, Ma. Milo fought that boy."

"Stop lyin," Jimmy spat.

Mr. Brown cleared his throat. "If I may. Eli is telling the truth. I viewed the cameras, it was a one on one fight. Mr. Fatu fought the other boy. Eli and Mr. Reigns here we're trying to break it up. But Eli, you did, in fact, get a hit in. I saw that much. Mr. Reigns did also but it was after Mr. Fatu hit him on accident and Mr. Reigns assumed the other boy hit him though."

"See. Here we go with this Eli stuff. I wanna be 'Mr. Fatu', call fight night over there Milo."

"Shut your ass up, Elijan."

"Yes, Mama." Eli sat back in his chair pouting. Even when he wasn't in trouble, he was in trouble.

"So what you're saying is my son did this," Apryl asked with a smirk. "Can we see this footage? Cause I don't know if I believe that my goofy baby did that. Especially for the boy to need an ambulance."

Mr. Brown went to stand but Eli held his hand up making every adult in the room suck their teeth. "Koda got the video, Auntie. Shorty from first period sent it to him." Eli smirked.

"Why that lil heffa got your number?" Kandice whispered.

"Not the time, Kandi," Roman chastised, "Give me your phone, Koda."

Koda unlocked his phone and went to the message thread before handing the phone over. "Aight. Pops don't scroll left or right and as soon as the video is over look away."

Roman glared at his son as he snatched the phone out of his hands. The twins, Trinity and Apryl got up to get a closer look at the phone. They gasped and cussed to themselves as they watched the beat down Milo gave. Once the video was over, Apryl couldn't help but smile. She was proud. Patting her son on the back when she got back to her seat.

"I'm just still confused. My son is goofy as shit, he don't do stuff like that." Jey argued.

"I mean, he is my kid, Jey. I taught him something. Bedside that goofy shit he got from you."

"Look at his hands, Apryl. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding."

"That's cause he beat his ass, Jey."

Jey waved her off turning his attention back to the principal. "Why were they fighting?"

"Apparently the boy made some unsavory comments about both Mrs. Fatus and Mrs. Reigns. Mr. Fatu attempted to settle the issue verbally but the boy kept talking."

Trinity looked around her brother in law to Milo, a small smile on her face. "I appreciate you standing up for us, Lo. But you didn't have to do all that."

"We're grown, baby. Whatever he said doesn't matter, you know it wasn't true."

"With all due respect, Mama," Koda added. "VJ mouth is reckless. If it's anything like what he said to me and Eli the other day then ion blame Milo for gettin his ass."

"Yeah. Me and Koda got his ass though. He tried Milo cause he thought my boy wasn't bout shit." Eli shrugged. Trinity turned slowly to look at her son. She wanted to tell him to be quiet but she knew all he was trying to do was help.

"What did he say to y'all, Ko?" Roman asked now starting to calm his nerves.

Koda looked at his dad then at his mama and shook his head. "I can't say."

"Tell me, Koda."

"I'd like to, Pops but I can't repeat what he said. There's women in the room," He sighed, "One of which will beat me if I tried."

Every adult in the room then turned their attention to Eli, who sat playing with his fingers oblivious to their watching. Jimmy smacked his chest lightly gaining his attention. "What's up, Dad?"

"Tell us what he said to y'all."

"But there's women and a child in the room," he smirked.

"And your ass don't care any other time. Start talking, Elijan."

"Aight, aight. Don't hit me," he demanded pointing his finger at his mama. She pushed it away and told him to talk. "He asked me and Koda if we thought our Mamas would fuck him, course we said fuck no and he got all pissy. So then he was like Mama, Auntie A and TK got dick sucking lips so I punched his ass in the stomach. He kept talking shit though. He was like 'ima fuck ya mamas and be ya step daddy' or some stupid as shit like that so Koda slapped fire from his ass. He said something else so we caught him after school and beat his ass."

"Koda Makai," Kandice sneered pinching his arm.

"What, Mama? We wasn't letting nobody talk about y'all like that. Fuck we look like? I'm glad Milo beat VJ ass. He need to learn to keep his mouth shut."

"That's enough, Koda," Roman said squeezing his shoulder. Koda sucked his teeth and sat back in his chair.

"He lucky we wasn't there or it would've been worse," Eli added with a nod.

Apryl rubbed the side of Milo's face still wearing her proud smile. Simba laid against his brother's chest, playing with the buttons on Milo's shirt. "I'm proud of you for standing up for us, baby. But maybe next time you hold back a lil bit."

"Apryl," Kandice and Trinity called.

"What? I'm just saying. I'm not condoning fighting but it was for a good reason."

"Stop talkin, A." Apryl rolled her eyes at her husband, she went back to rubbing her baby's face. They didn't have to be proud of him, she was.

The principal stood to leave the room. "I'm gonna go get their paperwork. Mr. Reigns and Mr. Eli will be suspended for eight days per policy. Even though they were helping, it's against policy and they both threw punches." Their parents nodded, they understood. "And Mr. Fatu would be suspended for ten days as well as the other young man. They will not be able to play in the game this Friday, either."

As soon as the door closed behind the principal, Eli started laughing. "Ayyye. He gave me respect. I knew we were cool."

"You shut your ass up," Jimmy chastised. "You just happy you ain't in trouble this time."

"Damn right. We bout to enjoy these days," he laughed holding his hand out to Koda. Koda went to slap his cousin's hand but he could feel both parents staring holes in the sides of his head. "Come on TK and Unc. We ain't do shit this time. We not in trouble."

"Didn't your daddy tell you to hush?" Kandice asked sternly.

"He actually told me to shut my ass up, TK. There's a difference." Eli sassed then put his hands up to block the hits he knew was coming.

"Lo, you good? You hurt?"Jey asked examining his hands.

"No, he not hurt. My baby don't have a scratch on him. That's my baby."

"He's your baby but you ain't realized his ass ain't said shit the whole time we been here, Apryl."

Apryl's smile turned into a frown. She was so happy to hear Milo finally got into a fight and won that she didn't realize he was still upset. "What's wrong, baby?" She asked softly. Milo pushed away from the table, he sat Simba in his Mama's lap before getting up. Jey asked what was wrong but Milo ignored him, making a b line for the door. His father, uncles and cousins trying to stop him as his mama, brother and aunties watched in confusion. They held him back but that didn't stop him from trying to get out the door.

"Where you tryna go, son?" Jey asked now standing in front of Milo. "Where you goin, baby?"

"To get VJ. I wasn't finished."

"You got em, cuz. I'm sure his ass regret all the shit he been sayin." Eli assured patting his back.

The men held Milo back until he stopped fighting them and laid all his weight on his father. Jey held him tightly, whispering a few things to his first born. He kept talking until Milo's breathing became regular again. Apryl watched them starting to feel bad. She had no idea he was that upset. The principal came back in with their papers. He had questions but decided against asking and just gave their papers out letting them know they could leave. Jey held onto his son as they walked through the office in front of the rest of the family. They passed VJ on their way out, all of them shocked at the damage Milo had done. All of them except Simba. Simba wiggled out of his Mama's arms to run over to VJ. He screamed then started attacking the young man. "Don't touch my brodder! My brodder!" Apryl and Trinity pulled him off, trying not to laugh. Kandice got him from them, holding Simba tightly under her arm as he kicked and screamed out the office.

#bloodline family series #jey & apryl #jey uso #jimmy & trinity #jimmy uso #ro & kandice #roman reigns #parental paragraphs

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