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bhawk-goose · 7 months

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This is a story chatgpt made with my help.

Once upon a time in a small town nestled between rolling hills and surrounded by lush forests, there lived a young woman named Emma. Emma was known throughout the town for her passion for the sky. From a young age, she had been fascinated by the mysteries of the cosmos, spending countless nights gazing at the stars and dreaming of exploring the universe.

One warm summer evening, Emma sat on her porch, her telescope by her side, and a notebook filled with sketches of constellations in her lap. Her friend, Sarah, joined her, and as they sipped on homemade lemonade, they discussed their dreams for the future.

"You know, Emma," Sarah said, "I've been thinking a lot about education lately. It feels like our town's school system could use some improvements."

Emma nodded, her eyes never leaving the sky. "I agree, Sarah. Education is the foundation of our future. If we professionalize the education system, we can unlock the potential of so many young minds."

Sarah looked puzzled. "But how does that connect to your passion for the sky?"

Emma smiled, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Imagine a world where every child has access to the best teachers and resources. We can inspire the next generation of scientists and astronomers. If we professionalize the education system, we can teach them to reach for the stars, quite literally. We can foster a love for science, exploration, and understanding the mysteries of the universe."

Sarah couldn't help but smile at Emma's vision. "You're right, Emma. With a better education system, we can encourage kids to dream big, just like you do. Who knows, maybe one day, one of them will discover something incredible about the sky."

As the night sky darkened, Emma adjusted her telescope and gazed at the moon. "And if they do," she whispered, "we can all freak out about the sky together."

Over the years, Emma and Sarah worked tirelessly to advocate for improvements in their town's education system. They campaigned for better funding, more qualified teachers, and innovative programs that sparked curiosity and imagination in young minds. Their efforts paid off, and the town's schools transformed into beacons of inspiration.

Years later, one of their students, a brilliant young astronomer, made a groundbreaking discovery—an exoplanet with conditions eerily similar to Earth. The entire town gathered to celebrate the achievement, and under the starlit sky, they truly did "freak out about the sky."

Emma and Sarah, sitting side by side once again, smiled at the sight. They had realized their dream: a town where education had been professionalized, and the possibilities of the universe were within reach for every child.

As they watched the stars twinkle overhead, Emma turned to Sarah and said, "See, Sarah, when you believe in the potential of education, even the sky isn't the limit anymore. It's just the beginning of a grand adventure."

Chapter 2:

Several years had passed since Emma and Sarah had succeeded in transforming their town's education system. The once-small town had grown into a hub of innovation and scientific exploration. Their vision of nurturing young minds to reach for the stars had flourished beyond their wildest dreams.

One crisp autumn evening, Emma and Sarah were invited to a special event at the town's newly established Institute for Space Exploration. It was a gala celebrating the achievements of the students and scientists who had emerged from the town's reinvigorated education system.

As Emma and Sarah entered the grand hall, they were greeted with applause and admiration. The walls were adorned with stunning images of galaxies, planets, and celestial wonders, all captured by the town's budding astronomers. Emma's heart swelled with pride as she realized the impact their advocacy had made.

During the event, a hushed excitement filled the room as a renowned scientist named Dr. Oliver Thorncliff took the stage. He had been a student of the town's revamped education system and had risen to prominence as an astrophysicist.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dr. Thorncliff began, "I have something extraordinary to share with you tonight—a discovery that transcends the boundaries of science as we know it."

He proceeded to explain that during one of the Institute's deep-space explorations, they had encountered a phenomenon unlike any other. Their spacecraft had landed on a remote moon in a distant galaxy. On this moon, they had discovered a hidden civilization of psychic moon goblins.

These moon goblins possessed a unique and incredible power—the ability to resurrect the deceased. Dr. Thorncliff showed video footage of the moon goblins in action, demonstrating their power by bringing a long-deceased plant back to life.

The audience gasped in amazement. Emma and Sarah exchanged wide-eyed glances, realizing the profound implications of this discovery.

Dr. Thorncliff continued, "We believe that by studying and harnessing this power responsibly, we can revolutionize the field of medicine and offer hope to those who have lost loved ones. It's a breakthrough that could change the course of human history."

Emma couldn't help but think about the countless lives that could be saved and the potential for reuniting people with their loved ones. The idea that science had uncovered a force capable of defying death filled her with awe.

After the presentation, Emma and Sarah approached Dr. Thorncliff to offer their congratulations and support for the groundbreaking research. They could see the excitement in his eyes as he spoke about the potential to use this newfound power for the betterment of humanity.

As the years went by, the town became a center for scientific exploration and collaboration, attracting brilliant minds from around the world. Together with the psychic moon goblins, they unlocked the secrets of resurrection and used it to heal and reunite families. It was a testament to the power of education and the limitless potential of the human spirit when nurtured and guided.

Emma and Sarah, once dreamers gazing at the stars, had played their part in a story that had now reached beyond the sky and into the realm of miracles. And as they looked up at the night sky, they couldn't help but wonder what other extraordinary discoveries the universe had in store for them in the years to come.

Chapter 3:

Years had passed since Emma and Sarah had retired from their roles in the town's scientific community. They had watched with pride as the world embraced the concepts of resurrection and mind reading, believing they had helped usher in a new era of understanding and progress. However, their curiosity and desire for knowledge still burned brightly, and they found themselves drawn back into the world of research and discovery.

One fateful day, Emma and Sarah received an invitation to a private scientific conference in a remote corner of Europe. The conference was attended by some of the world's foremost experts in the fields of psychic phenomena and consciousness. Curiosity piqued, they accepted the invitation and embarked on a journey that would forever change their perspective.

At the conference, they were introduced to Dr. Isabella Valentinov, a brilliant scientist who had been conducting groundbreaking research on the nature of the resurrections facilitated by the moon goblins. Dr. Valentinov's work had uncovered something unsettling—those brought back to life were not true resurrections but imperfect recreations.

Sarah and Emma listened in astonishment as Dr. Valentinov presented her findings. The recreated individuals retained memories and personality traits, but they lacked the profound essence of consciousness that made a person truly alive. They were, in essence, highly advanced simulations, not the same people who had originally lived and died.

The implications of this discovery were staggering. It meant that the world had been embracing a technology that did not truly conquer death but rather offered an illusion of it. The moral, ethical, and legal consequences were immense, especially given the strained international relations that had already emerged from the previous understanding of resurrection.

As Emma and Sarah grappled with this revelation, they faced a moral dilemma. Should they share this information with the world, potentially shattering the hopes of countless families who had believed in the return of their loved ones? Or should they keep the truth hidden, preserving the fragile peace and international cooperation that had been built on the previous understanding?

In the end, they chose honesty. They believed that humanity deserved to know the truth, no matter how painful it might be. They realized that true progress could only come from facing the challenges head-on, and that the world needed to reevaluate its relationship with the psychic moon goblins and the technology they offered.

Emma and Sarah shared Dr. Valentinov's findings with the world, sparking a global dialogue on the ethical use of such technology. It was a difficult and tumultuous time, with many nations reevaluating their policies and regulations. International relations strained even further, but it was a necessary reckoning for humanity's ongoing pursuit of knowledge and understanding.

In the end, the world chose a path of transparency, ethical responsibility, and cooperation. It was a reminder that, even in the face of challenging truths, humanity had the capacity to come together, adapt, and build a better future, guided by a deeper understanding of the complexities of life, death, and consciousness.

Chapter 4:

After the revelation about the true nature of the PMGs and their imperfect recreations, the scientific community faced a period of introspection and ethical reevaluation. International relations remained strained, but there was also a shared sense of responsibility to address the situation and find a solution.

Emma and Sarah continued their involvement in the discussions surrounding the PMGs, driven by their desire for understanding and compassion. They maintained contact with Dr. Isabella Valentinov, who had become an advocate for the PMGs' plight. Dr. Valentinov had established communication with the PMG leaders, who expressed their desire for a new life on Earth.

The PMGs' moon, with its harsh conditions and fire-breathing moon bears, had become increasingly inhospitable. They saw Earth as a refuge—a place where they could live peacefully and away from constant danger. In return, they were willing to share their knowledge and unique abilities with humanity, hoping to contribute to Earth's scientific and technological advancement.

A series of negotiations and diplomatic discussions took place on a global scale. There were concerns about how the PMGs would adapt to Earth's gravity and ecosystem, as well as the potential cultural clashes that might arise. However, the overwhelming sentiment was one of empathy and cooperation, recognizing that the PMGs deserved a chance for a better life.

In a historic agreement, it was decided that a designated area on Earth would be provided for the PMGs to settle and establish their new community. The chosen location was a remote, uninhabited island in the Pacific Ocean, which would allow them to live in isolation while adapting to Earth's environment.

The PMGs began their journey to Earth, guided by human scientists who had developed specialized technologies to ease their transition. It was not without challenges—adjusting to Earth's gravity required time and effort, and their interactions with Earth's native species were a learning process for both parties.

As the years passed, the PMGs integrated with Earth's scientific community, contributing their unique insights and abilities to further human knowledge. They became respected members of society, and their presence on Earth fostered a sense of unity and collaboration among nations.

Emma and Sarah watched with satisfaction as the world came together once again, this time to offer refuge to a species in need. The PMGs had found safety and a new home on Earth, and in return, they had enriched humanity's understanding of the universe.

It was a reminder that, in the face of challenges and uncertainty, compassion and cooperation could lead to a brighter future for all living beings, regardless of their origins or differences. Humanity and the PMGs had embarked on a remarkable journey of mutual understanding, discovery, and shared progress.

Spinoff that takes place between chapters 2 and 3:

In the years that followed the discovery of the psychic moon goblins and their ability to resurrect the deceased, the world found itself grappling with profound ethical and legal questions. Countries across the globe were faced with the daunting task of developing regulations and guidelines to govern the use of this extraordinary power.

Part 1: The Legal Implications of Life After Death

In the United States, a heated debate raged in the courts and legislative chambers. Some argued that the power of resurrection should be used sparingly, strictly for medical emergencies or in cases of accidental deaths. Others advocated for broader access, envisioning a world where people could choose to be brought back to life at any point.

The legal framework evolved to include "Posthumous Consent" laws, which allowed individuals to specify their preferences regarding resurrection in their wills. This ensured that their wishes would be respected even after death. However, controversies persisted over the rights of individuals who had not left clear instructions.

In contrast, European nations took a more cautious approach. They established international committees to oversee the ethical use of resurrection technology, prioritizing collective decision-making over individual autonomy. The process involved stringent medical evaluations, psychological counseling, and a deep assessment of the deceased person's contributions to society.

Part 2: The Ethics of Mind Reading

Simultaneously, another groundbreaking development had arisen—mind reading. Scientists had discovered a way to access and interpret thoughts, raising a host of legal and ethical dilemmas. Countries worldwide grappled with issues related to privacy, consent, and the boundaries of personal freedom.

In China, mind reading was embraced as a tool for national security and law enforcement. The government justified its use by arguing that it could help prevent crimes and protect the country from internal and external threats. However, civil liberties activists raised concerns about the potential for abuse and invasive surveillance.

In Scandinavia, a different approach was taken. They implemented strict regulations to safeguard the privacy of individuals' thoughts. Mind reading was only allowed in specific cases, such as investigations of heinous crimes or when individuals voluntarily consented to have their thoughts examined.

Part 3: International Collaboration and Conflict

As these technologies continued to advance, international tensions arose. Countries with differing policies clashed over issues like data sharing, extradition of resurrected individuals, and the exchange of mind-reading information.

The United Nations established a Special Committee on Posthumous and Psychic Affairs to facilitate diplomatic negotiations and address global concerns. It became a forum where nations could come together to discuss and harmonize their approaches to these extraordinary powers.

However, despite efforts at cooperation, conflicts occasionally flared. Disputes over the use of resurrection in cases involving international citizens, as well as espionage accusations related to mind reading, strained diplomatic relations.

Part 4: The Future of Humanity

The legal implications of life after death and mind reading remained a complex and evolving issue for years to come. Humanity was forced to confront profound questions about life, death, privacy, and individual rights in an era where science had pushed the boundaries of possibility.

The saga of Emma and Sarah's town had sparked a revolution, not only in technology but also in the way people thought about life and consciousness. As the world grappled with these newfound powers and their legal and ethical ramifications, it became clear that the path forward would be paved with challenges, debates, and the ongoing quest to strike a balance between progress and morality.

https://chat.openai.com/share/0ab172ee-630c-48e8-ad85-d1e77fbc123f if you wanna continue it or see the prompt. I based the initial prompt of this image from inspirobot

#chatgpt #why am i this stupid #if you read all of this your are a legend #no tldr for u #long read #no point in reading it tho

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ohtobeleah · 3 years

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Pre-Prep // Sebastian Stan

Summary: It’s day one of pre-prep for the second season of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Nervous as all hell you meet your co-star, Sebastian Stan.

The Sebastian Stan Interview Series

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as you looked up at the building in front of you. Blood thumping with every lub dum pump. Set production after set production, an entire block dedicated. The coffee in your hand wasn��t enough, if anything the caffeine made your anxiety more prominent! But to function without caffeine pumping through your veins on your first day of pre-prep would be a disaster. Currently experiencing what could only be described as an out of body experience. Completely beside yourself with anxiety and panic.

“You must be Y/n?” A woman’s voice called out to you, the softness and excitement that echoed around in your head broke you from your enchantment. “I’m Kari Skogland, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” You chuckled, your hand reaching for Karis as you shook.

“You’ve heard a lot about me from who?” You asked, Kari smiled at you. A sweet lady with a heart of gold and a mission of her own. The first season of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier had been nothing but a hit. Successfully standing on its own. But nothing could convince you otherwise, you were convinced you were here to fuck the next season up astronomically.

“Kevin Feige sure does have a lot of faith in you my dear.” Kari gestured for you to follow in her footsteps, padding behind the woman who’s shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the world in the most fierce and powerful way. “I need you to meet the crew, the stunt team, your co-star, Anthony won’t be joining us till a few weeks in. Pre-prep is just focusing on stunts and fight sequences, at the moment I’ve put priority focus on you and Sebastian, some of the sequences we’ve envisioned will need a lot of work—“ you knew Kari was still talking, but you couldn’t help but tune out, your eyes glued to the stunt man attached to rigs, the sound of bodies slamming into crash mats, grunting as props flew past. It was just like a damn circus.

“Sebastian, this is Y/n Y/l/n, Y/n this is Sebastian Stan or Bucky Barnes as you’d probably known him.” Kari smiled as she introduced you. Your hand was coming out to shake Sebastians before you’d even fully come back to your own body yet, still caught up in the goings on around you.

“Oh I uh—I’m a big fan actually, I’ve seen a lot of your movies, huge fan of Monday, loved it.”

“Great so you’ve already seen me naked!” Sebastian beamed, chewing what you could only imagine was peppermint gum. Your heart paused in your chest, Sebastian could practically see the nervousness oozing from every inch of you. Pulling his hand away as if to stop and already awkwardly long handshake, Sebastian chuckled. “Hey I’m just kidding, it’s nice to meet you, I read the article Feige did about how he found you? That’s beyond insanity.”

“The craziest bit about it is he wouldn’t take no for an answer, I turned him down three times. Kept coming back, thought I was going to have to call security on the president of Marvel Studios himself—but I caved, so here I am.” You let out a nervous exhale. Sebastian smirked as he walked with you through the massive stunt productions set.

“So first time on a stunt set?” Sebastian asked as he walked his hands in his sweat pockets. The sleeves too tight in his shirt, black, making the circumference of his arms seem bigger then they actually were. Looking around trying to gage where your eye-line was as you continued to take the entire building in section by section. “You seem incredibly nervous.” You chuckled, looking at Sebastian with a sheepish smile.

“You have no idea how close I am to shitting myself right now and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m nervous and Sebastian Stan himself is standing next to me like it’s a totally normal thing for me to experience or if it’s because the lady down at the coffee cart put whole milk my coffee instead of oat.” Sebastian cracked out a laugh so loud it echoed off the walls. It made you laugh too—a shared moment you’d remember forever.

“You know, you’re gonna have to get real comfortable real quick because the first thing up on that whiteboard is us falling out a five story building.” You look over Sebastians shoulder to where he was pointing, lo and behold, a whiteboard with a list of priority stunts to perfect. You eyes were wide with fear and nervousness as you pressed your lips together, nodding softly.

“Oh—great, fresh out the gate and they wanna kill me.”

“You really haven’t done anything like this before?” It was something Sebastian couldn’t wrap his head around. You shook your head, eyes still locked on the whiteboard.

“This is totally new territory, for all you know I’m about to mess your entire career up.” You tried to be lighthearted, Sebastian smirked in response, he knew you’d be great, he just had to get it out of you. Crack the shell. “I’m beyond terrified.”

“Oh I can tell—you’re not very good at hiding it.” Sebastian teased. “Listen, just take it day by day, it’ll come naturally once you find a comfortable rhythm, then you’ll meet Anthony and you’ll have to find that rhythm again and it’s just a whole process.” Sebastian sighed as he placed his fingers to the bridge of his nose playfully, as if to express his annoyance. You laughed as you sipped your coffee. ”you really watched my movies? You’re not some kind a psycho fan are you?”

“I thought it would be a good idea to research my co-stars.” You shrugged. Sebastian pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, smirking. Arms crossed as he stood just in front of you. “You were pretty awesome in the covenant.” Sebastian crinkled his nose in embarrassment. You chuckled at his reaction. feeling a little more comfortable then when you walked in. Sebastian seemed nice, welcoming. “Look, I really just wanna do a good job okay, this is a huge thing for me.”

“It’s pre-prep, by the time you step on set you’ll be an entirely different person.” Kevin Feige had said almost the same thing when you’d accepted his offer. He’d been relentless. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d taken you to dinner, explained why he wanted you on this project so much—said he’d envisioned the character of Agent Avery for a while and the second he’d seen you just totally encapsulated by your work, he’d known that very second—regardless of experience you had to play her. There was no other option. “Trust me. But hey, we should go get rigged up? I’m excited to see this, honestly I am.”

“Why are you being so, nice?” Sebastian raised his brow at you in response. “I thought finding out you’d be working with an absolute amateur would make a guy like you sweat, Stan.”

“What type of guy do you think I am?” Sebastian asked with a taunting smile worn confidently and proudly.

“I dunno, I’ve seen you act, you could be anyone you wanna be, for all I know you could be some kind of axe murderer with a fetish for, for I dunno key lime pie.” You teased. Sebastian laughed, he liked your smile, your sense of humour. Watching as you put your stuff down against the wall, randomly sitting amongst the rest of the personal affects scattered absentmindedly.

“Key lime pie? That’s the best thing you could think of? Key lime pie?” Sebastian repeated, a leaning against the wall as he watched you finish the rest of your coffee. Down the brown liquid like a shot.

“Like I said, you could be anyone.”

“Okay well, how about this.” Sebastian cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair. Pulling it up and away from his forehead. “We practice falling out a five story building together, mess around with some fake rubber knives, pretend to break each other’s noses and afterwards we’ll go grab a burger from the food truck on the north end of the lot.” You were silent for a moment, surprised.

“Uh—yeah, sure okay?” You agreed, Sebastian clapped his hands together with a cheeky grin. Mimicking the Cheshire Cat himself. “I’m down.”

“Awesome, let’s go get rigged up.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Sebastian didn’t know anything about you. He’d read part of an interview Kevin Feige had done once the second season of Falcon and the Winter Soldier had been picked up. he’d been having breakfast, absentmindedly scrolling through his newsfeed when an article popped up. He knew the face, saw the the marvel logo. Intrigued, Sebastian started reading. He couldn’t believe it, his cheeks hurt from the smirk he been holding the entire time. Honestly excited to meet the girl out of her mind to sign a contract with marvel as her first acting gig. What a why to make or break a career. Either way he’d was excited to see this out—be apart of it.

“Okay so I’ll run over it one more time.” Hank Amos, stunt coordinator, repeated as he turned towards you and Sebastian. Both rigged up in a half dressed hallway. Just a stunt set. “What you’re gonna do is run towards the edge of the wall, Sebastians gonna grab you around the waist as he falls backwards out of the ‘window’” Hank air quoted to the edge of the platform where somewhere along the line a window would be and break away glass would shatter around you. “Y/n you’ll land on top of him. He’s gonna hold your head to his chest on top of the crash mat.” Knowing CGI would make it a car. “It’ll be fun.” Hank clapped.

“You ready?” Sebastian asked, genuinely wanting to know if you were ready, the concern in his voice seemed to fade when you gave him a nod, a thumbs up and an excited smile.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, only one way down.” Sebastian laughed as you jogged in place, exhaling dramatically as you shook your head. “I can do this, I can do this—“

“You know I’m sure if you chucked a real diva moment they’d let you take the stairs!” Sebastian chuckled, his harness tight against his body. Wires tangling with yours.

“What and ruin my career before it’s even started? Fat chance!” You teased, Sebastian welcoming the banter with open arms. Cracking the shell. “Let’s just get this over with, like ripping a bandaid—“

“Yeah no that’s not how it works.” Sebastian shook his head, grabbing at your forearm softly to position you. Your eyes lingered on Sebastians hold on your forearm, the pressure grounding you. “But, let’s go. Three, two, one.” You ran, Sebastian just on your tail as you heard the shouting from Hank, encouragement and applause. The crew gassing you up as much as they could for your first ever stunt. Your heart was racing, pounding so hard you thought your chest was about to explode. Sebastian spun you quickly, falling backwards off the side of the platform with a wink, holding you close as you fell—your eyes closed as you screamed. Sebastian couldn’t help his laughter, erupting from his chest. His back hitting the crash mat with a thud. Keeping you still and close to his chest as you hide your face into his peck. The scent of Sebastians Cologne encapsulating your senses.

“You can move now, you’re alive.” Sebastian smirked as he felt you flinch at his words. Pulling away as you rolled onto your back next to him. Silence consumed your entire being die a moment as you kept your eyes closed. Focusing on your breathing. “You okay Y/n?” Sebastian asked softly, watching as you brought your hands to your face, covering and containing the best that you felt radiating. ”hey? No seriously are you okay?” Sebastians voice was full of concern once again, his hand holding your wrist just as he heard the sweet sound of your laugh, loud and all consuming.

“Holy shit what the shit am I doing! I just—I just.” You couldn’t finish your sentence, your laughter turning to a pained wheeze, struggling to breathe as you laughed so hard you thought your lungs were about to burst. Sebastian only followed suit, laughing with you as did the crew. Clapping and cheering you on, your first successful stunt. Sebastian held up his hand as he laid beside you. High fiving you before he sat upright. Biting his bottom lip to mask his all consuming smile.

“You did well Y/l/n, you did well.”

***~***~***~***~***~

You needed a time out, a break. You sat wide legged on the ground, water bottle between your legs as you watched Sebastian run through a fight sequence with his stunt guy. The hat he’d wired a while a go now backwards on his head, absentmindedly flipping a plastic knife in his hands, listening to his stunt guy repeat actions as he rushed him. It was like perfectly time clockwork.

“How do you do that?” You asked as Sebastian leaned down beside you to grab his own water bottle, taking a sip as droplets ran down his chin to his neck. You weren’t staring, let’s get that clear.

“Do what?” You asked through laboured berths as he took more water in.

“You make it look so easy when I know you’ve spent hours on that one sequence, that’s muscle memory.” You could already feel your bones aching. Rubbing the back of your neck.

“It’s an old.” Sebastian sighed, sitting down beside you for a break. “One from Winter Soldier, just getting back into the swing of things, loosening up, it’s been a while.” You scoffed lightheartedly. “What?”

“I feel like I’m dreaming, this is, this is the most incredible opportunity I’ve ever been given in my life and the only thing I keep thinking about is trying not to be the person who fucks up Marvels reputation for incredible productions.” You flipped your bottle in your hand. Scoffing when it clipped your finger tip and fell with a loud echoed to the ground.

“You gonna do the work Y/n.” You looked at Sebastian, his face serious but soft. “You gotta do the work, these productions are intense, it’s only gonna get more gruelling from here, you wanna be apart of this? I’ll make sure you stay afloat but you gotta decide if you wanna do this.”

“What was it like when you got the roll as Bucky?” Sebastian remembered how excited he was, the roll of a lifetime, he remembered the hug he gave his mum. Warm and full of happiness. But the fear of fucking it up was enough to make him rethink the decision to sign a nine picture contract.

“I was excited, but like you’re feeling now, I was terrified, i wanted to run for the hills because that pressure is, it’s enough to break a person, but I stuck it out and now look at me.” Sebastian smirked cheekily. “I’m here giving guidance to marvel’s newest golden girl.” You laughed, picking your water bottle up. Watching as Sebastian stood and walked towards the mat, you followed with a small smile creeping over your face. Picking up a plastic knife with a sign.

This was only day one.

***~***~***~***~***~***

Greasy take out food, that’s exactly what you needed. Sebastian handed you your order. Original burger with ketchup, fries on the side, medium lemonade. He ordered the same except with a cherry cola. Not your first choice but definitely something you’d be willing to try. The park bench that nestled between overgrown trees was your destination of choice. Park lights dimly lighting the picnic area. Enjoying a hard earned and surely nutrition meal.

“Okay so what’s your deal?” Sebastian asked with a mouthful of his burger. Hiding his mouth politely behind his hand. “Like, do you wanna get into this industry or is this a one off thing for you?”

“Well I didn’t necessarily audition for the roll did I? I was essentially forced, shit I can’t say that can I?” Sebastian laughed shyly he shook his head in response. “I was heavily persuaded! But yeah—I’m uh, I dunno, I’m kinda liking the job I’ve got now, but Depending on how this whole things goes I’d consider giving it up. I’ve sunk a lot of time and money into my degree so it’s not just something I’d give up easily.” You shrugged as you took a bite of your burger.

“What do you do?” Sebastian asked, eager to get to know you better. It was a genuine smile that he wore the entire day. He’d never been around someone as chaotic as you. It made him feel alive, invigorated. “I know you’re a personal trainer but tell me about it?”

“You have a personal trainer you’d know exactly what it’s like.” You teased. Bumping Sebastians side as he faked a groan of pain. “It’s just a really exciting way to help people, Im a specialists, I help women postpartum. You know, pelvic floor, abdominal separation, all that fun stuff people don’t necessarily take into account when returning to exercise.”

“That’s actually pretty cool, what happens while you’re here?” Sebastian had almost finished his burger, opting for the fries he’d let go cold from neglect.

“I’m taking an extended leave of absence.” It was getting late, you yawned as you fixed your hoodie, pulling the hood up over your head to shield you from the chill. Sebastian just had one more question to ask, before he found himself in a situation he really didn’t want to be in.

“So Is there a boyfriend or special someone waiting for you when you get home?” Sebastian didn’t mean for the question to seem so heavy handed or pushy, he just wanted to know. You shook your head no, a soft chuckle escaping your throat. It was full of self pity.

“There was, for about five years, but he uh—Tom didn’t really understand why I’d go gallivanting around the world to become some big shot actress, he said he couldn’t handle that, the constant worrying over if I’d fallen for one of my co-stars or not.” It blew Sebastians mind to think someone would throw away a five year relationship over a career change. Or trust issues like falling for a co-star when you were only in pre-prep. He wasn’t going to admit that maybe that was a possibility with you. Not yet. “What about you? You still seeing that girl?”

“Uh—no, I’m not, kinda didn’t end up working out, our priorities in life weren’t lining up.”

“Right person wrong time?” You added. Sebastian pressed his lips together, watching as you took another bite of your burger. The light from the park lights above illuminating you just enough it seemed to make your skin sparkle in the darkness. Sebastian took his phone out, typing your name into the search bar of his Instagram. When he saw your page he instantly followed. Becoming one of the one hundred and forty people to do so. You weren’t much for the public eye—oh how that was about to change. Smirking as he put his phone back into his pocket.

“Or just wrong person in general.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #ohtobeleah #marvel mcu #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x female reader #Sebastian Stan fix

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

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Master Post of things I wanted to post while reading ACOSF- mostly humour/ crack lol (Spoilers... Duh...)

First, general opinion: I liked the book generally. I knew it would be very Feysand friendly and I was prepared for that. Not my first choice but I get it. I really had to take a few hours off with the whole hiking scene. That really fucked with me to see Cassian so pissed and militant despite already knowing where Nesta was coming from and how betrayed she felt (ESPECIALLY once I learned that he had guessed they were mates already). I know that self loathing was a major theme but I do think it was laid on a little too thick for too long. I also think there was so much Nessian interaction when things were angsty and then when they were happy I was just WAITING for that full chapter of soft happiness and I feel like a lot of that got lost to Nesta’s relationship with her sister. Above everything though I gotta say that it BREAKS MY HEART that Cassian never actUlly says I love you to Nesta at any point in the book. I know it’s meant to be that he’s always loved her and it’s his actions that show it etc etc but it’s still kind of a blow for him to never say it... never even outright think it in his own perspective (go back and look the closest he gets is saying he’s acting like a lovesick puppy. We only get to see Cassian loving Nesta from her perspective as she realizes it which I get and is beautiful but maybe ONE DECLERATION THANKS). Anyway, I am hoping that opportunity arises in future books. Although.... I don’t think I will read the future books. Maybe I will, but honestly this was just SO MUCH. Like... I think there was too much in the book. Each of these quests could have been its own book and I was happy to keep going because I’m obsessed with Nesta, but I just don’t think I’d be interested enough in the other characters to read something so convoluted again (like I’m sorry the blood rite started with basically 100 pages left that is WILD). It was also so clear that so much of this book was setup for future books and that’s fine but it was kinda messy just being honest. ANYWAY onto more specific thoughts/ jokes:

Chapter 2:

Cassian: I just hope that Nesta knows we are doing this for her benefit, because we care.

Feyre: I don’t care this shit ends now. I’m burning your apartment to the ground.

Also Cassian: *Let’s Nesta fall down a flight of stairs*; *calls Nesta pathetic every day*; *tells Nesta everyone hates her*; *walks around slamming doors all pissy as if he’s the one being held captive*

Chapter 11:

Nesta:Rhysand is an asshole

Me:

Cassian: well everyone fucking hates you

Me:

The way that Cassian thinks about Russet Potato is just straight up not healthy. Like I get looking up to a sibling or whatever but I’m starting to think that Rhys is Cassian’s one true love. Cassian being THAT blind to every one of Rhysand’s flaws is a character flaw of his own. Even Feyre isn’t THAT blind.

Chapter 11 Pt 2:

Nesta from day one: I’m not training in that camp. I hate that camp. I’m not training there. Fuck that camp

Cassian: this is because you hate me, isn’t it?

Me:

Like I’m sorry did we really need Feyre to show up to help him crack that code???

Chapter 10 (and beyond):

My OTP? Nesta and the House of Wind.

It’s a solid enemies to lovers story (chapter 6 she says even the house hates her then later it’s her only friend and ally. Great love story.)

It reveals its heart to her before Cassian does

It knows what she needs

Gave her water on the steps instead of watching her fall down them

Pushes Nesta gently by keeping the fire so Cassian can see that she is afraid and haunted instead of empty and broken. Encourages her to go to dinner with people by barring the library but doesn’t FORCE her to go. The house does not judge her.

Spoils her and is silly with her while she has her sleepover.

Takes an active interest in something important to her and shares one of her hobbies

Side note- this book even has me pissed at the IC about how they treated a damn house!! Like how dare they say no one likes going there! How dare they be so rude to my new #1 favorite book character??? The house just wants to give you cake and books and run you a bath. Perfect partner IMO.

Chapter 17:

Me when Cassian does the bare fucking minimum and tells Rhys to calm the fuck down and stop threatening to kill Nesta:

Chapter 21:

When Rhys said that Nesta always has a choice here I said, out loud, “that’s fucking rich rice ball”. My dog looked up. That’s all.

Chapter 21 (and beyond) pt 2:

Prythian: mating bonds are very rare

Archeron sisters: survey says that was a lie

Prythian: fae fertility is very difficult. Conceiving can take decades

Archeron sisters: survey says that too was a lie

Prythian: No High Fae can survive the birth of an Illyrian winged baby

Archeron sisters: once again, the survey is not on your side here

Chapter 42:

Rhys: this is a bad idea

Cassian: that should be written on the Night Court’s crest

Me, wine glass raised to mouth, scoff more bitter than necessary: yeah it Fucken should”

Chapter 42 pt 2:

Yknow I was genuinely shocked by one thing in ACOSF. I was shocked that Rhysand and I agree on something.

He absolutely fucking shouldn’t be High King.

The mere SUGGESTION that Nesta’s power and fight and trauma and depression and war and entire FUCKING STORY has all been so that Rice cake and French fry can be a high king and queen literally set my blood BOILING at exactly the point in the book that I was starting to VIBE

Side note- Can we please just Fucken stop with the stars blinking in and out of existence in Rhys’ eyes. Like calm down. Rice pilaf has purple night eyes we get it. Just like... simmer please.

Chapter 46:

I GET that it shouldn’t have come out like that and that Nesta’s reasons weren’t right, but get ABSOLUTELY FUCKED RHYSAND for thinking that it is your right to HIDE THE DANGERS OF LABOUR FROM A WOMAN WHO DOES NOT KNOW YOUR SPECIES!!! This had me truly wildin and I think it was a disservice to Feyre’s character too that she didnt lose it more.

Chapter 55 (and earlier):

Cassian: *bows to death as Nesta emerges from the black depths on a throne to rule her undead armies*

Cassian: *watches bleeding as Nesta plucks the harp and wields her Made sword of death to murder Lanthys and claim the ability to stop time itself*

Nesta: So, now I go after the crown

Cassian:

Chapter 57 (and earlier):

Kelpie: You shall be my bride before you are my meal

Helion: *rides enchanted horse up to shoot his second shot with Nesta*

Lanthys: Tries to seduce Nesta into being his Queen even as he attempts to kill her

Eris: I’ll give you anything in exchange for Nesta as my bride

Cassian watching every male being in the universe trying to get with his mate:

Chapter 60:

Emerie: we’re not entering the blood rite, are we?

Cassian: Only if you want to

Brialynn:

Chapter 80:

Nesta: *Saves Cassian’s life in the war*

Rhys: I still hate you and will never forgive you for what you did in not hunting as a child.

Nesta: saves Feyre and Nyx

Rhys: I bow before no one and nothing but my crown and now I shall fall to my knees before you oh mighty saviour queen of all

Side note- can someone please compile a list of all the things that Nesta Archeron had done/retrieved/gone through for the Nigh Court because that shit is astronomical at this point and I really need everyone to start sipping their Respect Nesta Archeron Juice RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!

Anyway I’m emotionally wrecked but shoutout to anyone who made it this far into my ramblings!

#nessian #acosf spoilers #a court of silver flames spoilers #a court of silver flames #nesta archeron #cassian #anti rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #nesta and cassian #a court of mist and fury #nestaxcassian #sarah j maas #a court of wings and ruin #acotar

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milkiane · 3 years

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so i am feeling incredibly emotional rn so, here’s an appreciation post for my favorite people. (this have been in my drafts for three weeks now) -- so why not post this along with my sleepover <3 sleepover bash

@chokemepansy

need i say more? no— but i will anyway. asteria, my mean cheerleader girlfriend, you are the first moot i’ve ever had, and honestly, i wouldn’t have it any other way. you're my favorite person in the entire world, and pls i am getting so emotional rn, i hate you >:-( i’ve told you everything at my previous letters but i just want you, and everyone else who’s about to read this, to know that you’re my platonic (and quite possibly romantic) soulmate, and my other-third, because pansy owns the shit out of us. love u lots, don’t say it back <3

@accioweaslcy

my favorite headcanon writer 😩 pls alyssa, i’ve had, and still do, have so much fun talking with you. i really, really, love your company, i love your writing, and most especially love you. you were one of my moots that talked to me with such ease and comfort despite being a tad bit younger than you, and it’s been fun ! you’re like one of those seniors who befriends juniors, but still have this amazing (and envying) friendship with each other. not only that, but you being my friend, and me being a dumbass, made our own version of the golden trio with @weasleyyy ! now, this is a story i’ll tell my kids. love u, even if you choose to chomp me <3

@weasleyyy

gHAZAL ! now, are you thankful for me being a half-asleep dumbass who thought you were rose because of your similar urls before, or what ? because i definitely am PFT SJSHSJSHSJN anyways, i’m so happy to have you in my life. i’m a sucker for your chaotic and impulsive energy, and your little thoughts about the hpu. just like rose, thank you for acting just as yourself around me, a smol bisexual mess, because i really do appreciate it, and now you made me a fanclub— which btw, i still cannot get over with. i wheeze everytime i remember it. i love u, madame gazelle, even if you’re a mean li’l fuck ! <3

@amrtxntias

AAAAAAAAH heather, you are officially my unofficial soft british best friend, and no, you do not have a say in this, because you’re stuck with me forever. thank you so much for helping me with terms i need for writing. you’ve been the best, you’ve supported me through every ups and downs with my writings ever since we’ve met. it wasn’t even too long ago ! but you’ve welcomed me like i was a long lost friend of yours. love u, h, the lily to my marlene <3

@buckysbeloved

aliciaaa !! you’re honestly like an older sister i’ve never had. i’ve never had anyone to rant about my marvel fangirlings with, but i am so glad that you were so open with my rants and conspiracy theories. you’ve never judged me or shown any disinterest with my rambles, you’ve been so supportive and you continue to give me the same energy as mine. it’s a very little thing to fuss about, but lish, you’ve got to know that it means so much to me. i’m tearing up— blame the hormones. but really, i’m so grateful for you and your company (and your maxibaby fics). love u to the moon and back ! <3

@acosmis-t

isa isa isa isa isaaaa, pls i love u so much. that’s all i want to say, but ofc, i need to say more. you have been one of my best friends— we clicked the moment we spoke to each other and i was incredibly happy to be your moot. i couldn’t even believe it at first because you’re this rly cool writer with tons of followers and i’m just another user in the crowd but like, everything i want to say is beyond the words that want to come out of my mouth, so i’ll leave it with a thank you for choosing me to be one of your mutuals. thank you for blessing me, and the others, with your lovely fics. never stop doing what you love, i’m here for you always. always was, and always will be. i mean, it should be with the jointed graves and all. love u <3

@reguluscore

SOOOORINNNN. sometimes i question what’s happening inside your head. like one second your posting angsty fics and thoughts, and next thing i know you’re posting a dancing prongs gif. i’ll never understand, i reckon, but that’s alright, i’ll love you just the way you are, even if you break my heart with your angst. tell me who hurt you and i’ll beat them up. i love u so much, i’m still listening to your playlist, because it’s astronomical. sending you some forehead kisses <3

@inks-and-jinx

vivian !! i’m still beyond grateful for you and your artistic and writing talents. you’re such an angel, and i’m so incredibly happy to have you in my life. you’re a sweetheart. you’re every sweet-soft-fluffy nickname there is, because honestly? i cannot speak well, or think straight because i don’t think words can describe how lucky i am to have you. well, i love u, and that’s all i could comprehend <3

@comfortwriting

karis ! you’re honestly one of my fave moots because you never fail to make me so appreciated and loved. your out of the blue messages always make me feel so happy because you’re so wholesome and nice. i’m very, very, glad to have you in my life. thank you for always being there to be my personal therapist and my human diary— who listens to all of my writing ideas, even if i have tons of wips to write. thank you for inspiring me to write again, without you, i would’ve never find my passion for writing again, so thank you, thank you for being the sweetest person there is, i love you ! <3

@krasivayadarling

ANYA ! darling, you are one of the very first mutuals i’ve ever talked to, you’ve welcomed me with open arms when i was new here and i wouldn’t change anything in the world. i’m so glad that you were the first person i’ve ever talked to because you are practically the human form of a squishmallow. don’t question me, you’re my squishmallow. anyways, you’re such a lovely person and i’m very happy to have you in my life, love you ! <3

@cursestothemoon

cHARLY-CHAR !! hehe you are like one of those nice, cool, senior students in school, you never fail to make me so giddy and loved. i’m so happy to have you in my life, and i’m wishing you all the happiness and love in the world because you truly do deserve it, especially when you’ve been nothing but so kind and friendly. pls i feel like crying because i don’t know what i did to deserve you. I BLAME U AND UR AMAZING WRITING SKILLS FOR MAKING ME SOFT >:-( i love you tho <3 — also thank you for that play fighting blurb with fred, i didn’t know that i needed to bite his cute butt until i read it.

@sunflowergirl522

ZOE ZOE ZOE ZOE ZOE ZOE ! I LOVE YOU. i feel so complete when i read your peter fics. i always look forward to them because it’s not everyday you find someone who actually writes him so good, and i know we don’t really interact much, but i feel like i got to know you more through reading your fics. u better trust me when i say that i’ll be your personal hype woman and maxibaby supporter, because i am, and i will forever be ! love u <3

@fives-cup-of-coffee

amelia, you bitch, i love you. to be honest, i've never really expected us to be friends, but ofc, here you are, simping for me and now we're besties. you've been, and still are, so fun to be around with-- only because i get to tease the shit out of you >:-) anyways, thank you for keeping up with my utter bullshit, i'm here for you always, i hope you know that. love ya ! <3

@moonvicake

wAHH-- sasha, hi. pFT JSADHJSAHDJH SORRY BUT PLEASE I LOVE YOU, DID YOU KNOW? it's been so painfully awkward at first because believe me, i'm the most gauche person you'll ever meet if we talk for the first time, but as soon as we grow accustomed to each other, you'd wish that you never spoke to me, because i'm this hot fucking mess, so thank you for keeping up with me. you're one of my favorite mutuals in here. i love you more than puppies and hello kitty pancakes <3

+ my mutuals who’ve been such amazing people, we haven’t talked as much as the tagged moots but i love you all just as equally, you lot mean the world to me, and i’m willing to go on the ends of the earth for all of you <3

@anchoeritic @babyjordy @frankenkyleluvr @ronsbadidea @kc-needs-coffee @nevilles-top @weasleyclaw @sweetnspicysimp @redbullchick @willowbleedsonpaper @weasleysandwheezes @daffodilmoons @incorrectpeterparker @dracosaccount @cedrics-grave @pad-foots @peepeepotter @oldschoolkiddo @spideyspixies @daltonacademia @eunoniaa @love-peachh @george-fabian-weasley @mayonnaise-and-anarchy @darthwheezely @thotbutpurple @l0ttadreamz @daisyyy2516 @prettywhitedoves @band--psycho @widowdays @loveboyhalo @gxtitobxby @fandomvariousness @nothinghcppens (i passed the 50 tags rule, eek— i’m sorry, i love all of you whom i didn’t get to tag, though 🥺)

#mutuals appreciation post ! <3 #amourtentiaa’s sleepover bash <3

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cassianstattoo · 3 years

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HAPPY ACOSF RELEASE DAY!

(ACOSF SPOILERS AHEAD) ARE YOU EXCITED?

I personally am. It’s time for Nesta’s story (and not just hers) to be told. So, this leads to another thing I think (and hope) you’ve been waiting for.

LET’S EXPLAIN THE PLAYLIST! (Read every song’s meaning while or after reading the book) And thank you for all your love and support.

“Alone” by Melancholia: It describes the Cauldron scene at the beginning of the book. In this song you can feel the rage and how hard she’s struggling. This song is not about weakness. It’s about her strength.

“Impossible” by James Arthur: Chapter 1. Even if it’s not so clear in this chapter, I think this song represents how Cassian feels when Nesta’s around. He feels worthless and not so different from the other men she beds (as he thought in ACOFAS). He lost his hope of an happy future with the woman he loves and he feels like he’s breaking that last promise she made her. Everything just seems so impossible.

“Sister” by The Black Keys: Chapter 2. This just makes me think of Feyre and Nesta’s fight. It’s from Feyre’s pov.

“New House” by Toro y Moi: “I want a brand new house Something I can not buy, something I can afford I just want a long shower I been feeling so crowded” Chapter 3. It’s about Nesta settling down in the House of Wind. It’s not the place she feels she can call “home”. First of all, it’s not really hers. The last two sentences of this verse are about her breathing and trying to calm herself at the end of the chapter. She’s just tired.

“My Mother & I” by Lucy Dacus: Chapter 4. The whole song is about Nesta and the relationship with her mother when she was a child. I think there’s nothing else to say. Also, in the 1st Chapter it says that she’s born in spring, so the song talks about a girl who was born in May. It all fits.

“Teacher’s Pet” by Melanie Martinez”: “Teacher’s pet If I’m so special, why am I secret? Yeah, why the fuck is that? Do you regret The things we shared that I’ll never forget? Well, do you? Tell me that I know I’m young, but my mind is well beyond my years I knew this wouldn’t last, but fuck you, don’t you leave me here” Chapter 5 and 6. Nesta and Cassian’s first day of training together. She basically doesn’t want to act like she’s his pet and she’s got to do whatever he want just to respect her sister’s will.

“Dangerous Man” by Valley Of Wolves: “They say I’m a wanted man Holding line and break the fire I’m setting all the captives free But I’m hanging by a wire” Chapter 7. It’s about Eris and his double-cross. That’s how probably Cassian pictures Eris in his mind tbh.

“Control” by Halsey: Chapter 8. Nesta facing the stairs. It can be linked to other chapters too because if you take this song as a whole and not just a few verses, it really contains A LOT of things. For example, the line “The House was awake”. Also Chapter 9, when people start calling their children. You can find this moment in the song when it says “All the kids cried out ‘please stop, you’re scaring me”.

“Bookstore Girl” by Charlie Burg: Chapter 9. The bookstore girl is Gwyn and Nesta tries to know more about her.

“Wrong Direction” by Hailee Steinfeld: “I don’t hate you” Chapter 12. This song is about the chapter’s ending.

“You’ve Got a Friend In Me” by Cavetown: Chapter 13. Nesta and Gwyn’s interaction. Also, Nesta helping her.

“like that” by Bea Miller: Chapter 16. Nesta and Cassian’s tension is hilarious, but this song makes me thing about this scene so much.

“Queen” by Shawn Mendes: Chapter 17. Elain fighting with Nesta. This lyrics is so powerful. The first part is Elain talking to Nesta. The second part is Nesta talking to Elain.

“You’ll Follow Me Down” by Skunk Anansie: Chapter 17. Same scene. This is totally Nesta. She’s so scared of herself and of the world that surrounds her. She’s afraid to lose her sister in this world she still knows nothing about if not violence. She wants Elain by her side, even if it means dragging her down with her.

“Teeth” by 5 Seconds of Summer: Chapters 18/19. I like to call it “THE chapter”. Do you need me to explain why I chose this song? Um, I don’t think so. You know it.

“Only You” by Ellie Goulding: “Baby I’m on my knees” Chapter 22. He’s... returning the favor.

“Revolution” by Diplo, Faustix, Imanos, Kai: Chapter 24. Our girl Nesta knows what she’s doing. What she’s starting.

“Best Friend for Hire” by Anthony Amorim: Chapter 25. The whole song is about Nesta and Emerie’s interaction. Everytime I listen to it I can’t help but cry.

“Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue)” by Hozier: Chapter 26. Nesta’s worried about Cassian and gives him relief.

“Rise Up” by Andra Day: Chapters 27/28. These three girls are going to rise up, bitches.

“Nina Cried Power” by Hozier, Mavie Staples: Chapter 29. This song is really powerful, just like Nesta. She always is, but in this chapter we learn HOW MUCH.

“Fix Me Now” by Garbage: “Bring me back to life (fix me now) Kiss me blind” Chapter 31. THAT scene. HE HEATED UP THE WHOLE ROOM Y’ALL. Cassian literally kissed her back to life.

“Ready or Not” by Fugees: Chapters 34/35/36. I can’t choose only one quote from this song. But can you hear its vibes? Nesta’s leading a dead army. This is THE power.

“PILLOWTALK” by ZAYN: Chapter 37. *wink* This song says everything.

“Go Fuck Yourself” by Two Feet: Always chapter 37. I couldn’t choose just one song, you know. Also, lowkey Chapter 38.

“Never Again” by Breaking Benjamin: “Never again, never again Time will ot take the life from me” Chapter 38′s ending. All I can say is: NEVER AGAIN.

“Boy In The Bubble” by Alec Benjamin: Not linked to just one chapter. It makes me thing of Azriel a lot.

“Past Lives” by BØRNS: “I've got the strangest feeling This isn't our first time around Past lives couldn't ever come between us Some time the dreamers finally wake up Don't wake me I'm not dreaming“ Chapter 39. Gwyn and Azriel. Well, these lines are about them, but I think the rest of the song represents Elain and Azriel, too. I don’t know if you feel the same.

“Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day: THIS IS AZRIEL’S SONG. YOU CAN’T TELL ME OTHERWISE.

“Watch Me While I Bloom” by Hayley Williams: Chapter 41. Nesta teaching Cassian how to treat a woman. She’s got big dick energy ayeee

“R U Mine?” by Arctic Monkeys: Still chapter 41. Cassian taking control of the situation. This song just screams “dominant” lmao.

“Walls Could Talk” by Halsey: So Halsey once said “The House was awake” (Control). What if those Walls Could Talk? Like, poor thing. It could have a mental breakdown. This song is dedicated to the House of Wind ‘cause it needs respect. It’s alive. Just imagine how’d you feel watching non-stop those two fucking and fighting. Also Azriel, you’re loved.

“Despicable” by grandson: “If I were you I wouldn’t love me neither” Chapter 43. Tamlin deserves a song, too.

“Part Of Me” by Katy Perry: Chapters 45/46. It’s all SO chaotic. This song means a lot of things. They all lied to her, but this song is particularly about Nesta and Amren’s fight. In my opinion, she did the right think telling Feyre the truth ‘cause she deserved to know, but it just wasn’t the right time and space.

“Don’t Give Up On Me” by Andy Grammer: Chapter 47. Cassian’s going to take care of Nesta. She made a mistake but she knows here better than anyone. He won’t give up on her.

“There You Are” by ZAYN: Chapter 50. Cassian comforts Nesta when she finally explodes. He’s there for her with open arms.

“You Found Me” by The Fray: Still Chapter 50. This chapter was so hard to read and this is another song that can describe it best.

“Locked Out Of Heaven” by Bruno Mars: Chapter 51. Illyrian bat boys just love flat objects. I see.

“Thin White Lies” by 5 Seconds of Summer: Chapter 51. Yeah, still thinking about that desk.

“Chosen Family” by Rina Sawayama: Still Chapter 51. This song is wholly dedicated to Nesta’s new found family. Not only Gwyn and Emerie, but also Cassian.

“Library Magic” by The Head And The Heart: Chapter 52. Listen to this song and read the scene at the beginning of the chapter.

“Battle Cry” by Imagine Dragons: Chapter 54. I know it’s weird but I feel this song talks about Lanthys and Nesta’s fight.

“Hurt” by Christina Aguilera: Chapter 55. Nesta takes Cassian to the place she lived with her family in the mortal lands. It’s dirty and broken now but it’s still there. Nes talks about her father and realizes how much he’s done for her and her sisters.

“Story Of Another Us” by 5 Seconds of Summer: Chapter 56. I know this sounds like a sad song but to me it represents Gwyn’s present. The story of their past (of another “them”) and also their present.

“Drama Club” by Melanie Martinez: Chapter 57. Eris vibes, y’all. I know you can feel them. Everytime I listen to this song I can’t help but thinking of him. So the only thing I can tell you is: listen carefully.

“Genius” by Sia, Diplo, Labrinth: Chapter 57. Hear this song. It just makes me think of a ballroom where two people try to talk to other people and they’re avoiding to make eye contact. And they fail (yeah, those people are Cassian and Nesta btw)

“Therefore I Am” by Billie Eilish: Chapter 57. Still about Eris, but also Cassian. They can’t stand each other. So imagine the astronomical energy (inside of this bus lmfao) when Nesta comes in between.

“All About Us” by He Is We, Owl City: Chapter 57. Nessian dancing.

“Rock Bottom” by Hailee Steinfeld ft. DNCE: Chapter 58. This song is SO accurate. This is the moment I realized “That’s it. I think I can die happy now” and then I started crying. Nesta just thinking she’s not enough and she deserves to be with someone as ugly as she thinks she is. Cassian is like “shut the hell up, woman” and yeah. That’s the kind of energy and conversation I was waiting for.

“Stop Crying Your Heart Out” by Oasis: Chapter 58. Their life becomes brighter. They have to stop crying their heart out because of their fears and the emotions they keep trying to hide. They need to feel free and express all the love they can give to each other.

“Fade Into You” by Nashville Cast, Sam Palladio, Clare Bowen: Chapter 58. Finally the truth comes out and everything becomes real. Even if the song is pretty sad, the lyrics is just SO accurate and it describes the scene perfectly.

“I Miss You” by Adele: Chapter 59. Basically Nesta feeling needy ‘cause she doesn’t see Cassian for days, but it’s more than that. Pay attention to the depth of the song. It shakes you. And that’s what Nesta feels when she thinks of Nesta.

“Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera: Chapter 59/61. I want to dedicate it to my favorite girls in this book: Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn. They’ve been through a lot but they also learnt to face their fears. And they realized that unity is strength.

“Smile” by Uncle Kracker: Chapter 62. Cassian’s sooo happy to be with Nesta it breaks my heart. And his own too.

“Broken Pieces” by 5 Seconds of Summer: Chapter 62. Aaand here we go again. Cassian just wants Nesta to give him the chance to be happy with her.

“Carried Away” by H.E.R.: Chapter 62. Nesta thinks they got too carried away and now they’re at a point of no return. She opened herself to him too much. It’s not like she regrets this but she understands that now everything’s too real and changing. She doesn’t feel ready.

"What’s Up?” by 4 Non Blondes: Ending of Chapter 63. Okay, I’ll make you laugh but this is me after reading it. I needed to put a song about how I felt when I read this freaking ending, after all the devastation Chapter 62 brought into my heart. And the fact that Nesta’s 25 and the first line begins with “25 years”... I DIED. Also I think of her just screaming to the word “WHAT’S GOING ON?!”.

“Sisters Are Doin’ It For Themselves” by Eurythmics ft. Aretha Franklin: Chapters 64/65/66. DO I NEED TO DESCRIBE IT? NAH, I DON’T THINK SO. THESE GIRLS ARE POWERFUL, STRONG AND SMART AS HELL.

“Run The World (Girls)” by Beyoncé Chapters 67/68/69/70. The girls want to win and they’re going to conquer everything with no mercy.

“Puppets” by Depeche Mode: Chapter 71. Eris impotence t is heartbreaking.

“Warriors” by Imagine Dragons: This song is for every character. It’s about Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn, but also Cassian, Azriel and Eris. They’re fighting different battles and they’re doing it with every ounce of power they have.

“Emperor’s New Clothes” by Panic! At The Disco: Chapter 74. Nesta kicking Briallyn’s ass.

“Survivor” by Destiny’s Child: This song is dedicated to Emerie and Gwyn. They spent all their lives learning how to survive. At the end, they finally won.

“Set Fire to the Rain” by Adele: THE Nessian Anthem. I put this here ‘cause FINALLY they’re endgame. But something bad’s about to happen...

“Cancer” by My Chemical Romance: Chapter 76. This chapter’s been the hardest one to face. I had to put the book down for a minute and breathe. I know this song made you panic and ow you know why I chose it. I can’t stop crying thinking about Feyre in those conditions and all the IC and her sisters surrounding her. I’m still so heartbroken.

“You Saved Me” by Skunk Anansie: Chapter 77. Nesta cares about Feyre. She’s her little sister and she just can’t let her die like that. She gave her a happy ending even if Nes had to lose almost every ounce of power she had and learned to accept. But they’re worthless in comparison with her sisters life. She just loves them both. She’d do anything for them and this scene proves it.

“Lean on Me” by Bill Withers: This song is about friendship and sisterhood. Nesta’s relationship with Gwyn and Emerie, but also with Feyre and Elain (and lowkey Rhys). Also, I dedicate it to little Nyx, too. They all love you, babyboy, and would do anything for you. Welcome to this chaotic world, kid!

“Sorry” by Halsey: Chapter 78. These are not explicit apologies. Nesta doesn’t need to say “sorry” vocally. She already demonstrated it. Her actions speak louder than words and her sister know it. This song is not about a “romantic lover” but a “person who loves” and they all love too much and strongly.

“Amazing” by Aerosmith: WE FINALLY SEE THE LIGHT. This is the happy ending they deserve (but the cliffhanger is killing me tbh). It’s about everyone in this book. I put it in the playlist ‘cause at first I thought it could refer to Azriel and Cassian. But the more i listened to it, the more I realized it just describes every single character.

“The Reason” by Hoobastank↓

“this is me trying” by Taylor Swift: Both the songs refer to Chapter 80. Nesta visiting her father’s grave is one of the first steps to finally go on. The songs represent what she really wants to tell her father. He’s the reason to start over. And she’s trying. Even if she made mistakes she’s ready to fight for the happiness and love she denied herself years and now she knows she deserves it.

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sserpente · 3 years

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Pastel Blue (Chapter 5)

Synopsis: After his lucky escape, the Tesseract takes Loki on new adventures–but unfortunately, his journeys through space do not go unnoticed and he soon ends up on TVA’s radar. Working for them, albeit reluctantly, he keeps finding himself in the company of a young woman, Jess, who works in the linguistics department and who has a truly strange effect on him. Smitten by her confidence and smugness, he seeks her presence like a bee hunting for honey and lets her wreak havoc in his heart without really knowing why. But he is determined to find out. He means to escape this godforsaken place anyway.

Find all chapters on my masterlist! (Unfortunately, Tumblr will not display my recent posts if I add a link.)

It almost felt like no time at all. Had one whole week really passed already since Loki had accommodated himself in her unit? In the books, the characters who had to share a room usually fell in love by the end of the story or, even better, they had some mind-blowing sex and then ended up together, and yet all she had done was play with her vibrator like it would be taken away from her the next morning for good.

But unlike any of the mischief and the chaos she had expected, Loki was a rather pleasant roommate. He was respectful, calm, tidy… and she doubted he had ever entered her room without her permission. Unless, of course, he had done so in her absence.

Jess gnashed her teeth, her eyes fixed on her brown hair in the mirror. Ariana had found this lovely youth magazine in the nineties yesterday, one that had already been thrown in the bin. The only reason she had taken it was because the cover showed a blue phone booth with Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor on the cover. Jess had spent all morning skimming through it, reading the headline article as well as chuckling about the gossip and the ads—even though some of them were rather sexist.

At some point, she found a double page on fancy hairstyles for women and now struggled to copy one of the elegant braids to spice up her own hair. Thus far, she had been failing miserably, flinching with a grunt when Loki opened the bathroom door. He tilted his head upon seeing her sitting on the edge of her bathtub with her tongue sticking out a little and her fingers entangled in her brown hair.

“Yes?”

“I meant to get washed but clearly, you are occupied in here.”

Jess huffed, flinging the hair tie into the sink. “I’ve been trying to braid my hair. Like this, look!” She pointed at the magazine. The woman in the picture looked like it had taken her five minutes to create this look, and they’d had the audacity to rate this style ‘quick and easy’.

Loki chuckled. “You look like a scarecrow.”

“Why, thank you.” She rolled her eyes. “You can take your shower, I give up on this.” She said.

His sigh surprised her. “Allow me.”

“What?” Jess’ reply was all but a chirp but Loki had already approached her and fetched the hair tie from the sink. The braid was indeed a simple one, and as he stood behind her to part her hair for her, he had to refrain from letting her know just how soft it felt.

He had often braided his mother’s hair as a child. It was an activity that had calmed him down whenever Thor and his friends had made fun of how fond he was of books and preferred to use his mind and tricks rather than raw strength in play fights. The hand movements he was so familiar with that he had no need to look. Instead, he met Jess’ eyes in the mirror. She swallowed, and for a brief moment, he found himself remembering the whimpers coming from her bedroom at night.

Quickly, he averted his gaze again, parting her hair to reveal the earrings dangling down her earlobes. They shimmered in the artificial light of the bathroom. He had never seen her without them, come to think of it.

“They are moonstones.” She said when she noticed his glance. His finger brushed against her left earring once more, making it swing a little. “M got them for me on my birthday. The stone is said to soothe emotional instability and stress, and to stabilise emotions.” After all, her own parents were unlikely to buy her birthday presents anymore. “He asked me to always wear them… that they would protect me from evil.”

Loki hummed. He was familiar with the healing properties of moonstones. They were rather common on Asgard too. Only it made him wonder why Mobius would be so keen on her keeping them on at all times.

“Do you truly believe that?”

She shrugged. “I choose to.”

His fingertips brushed against the soft skin of her neck and he sucked in a deep breath. Jess’ lips parted. She was indeed a beautiful woman, was she not? Loki pondered if she was aware of just how alluring she was. How delectable she sounded when she came undone, believing so naïvely that he was unable to hear the fun she had with herself.

Lust flared up in his blue eyes, his fingers caressing her neck once more, and him braiding her hair all of a sudden turning into a subtle excuse to touch her over and over, to explore what their physical connection meant to him. Then it hit him. The inexplicable tension between them was indeed sexual too.

It was perfect, was it not? If Jess desired him, in whatever way she imagined to… then perhaps he could make use of her attraction, especially as this meant that he too would get to blatantly act on those carnal needs simmering right beneath the surface of his very core. He could not possibly trust her beyond that.

“There.” He announced, finishing up the braid by tying the loose ends together with her hair tie. She looked exactly like the model in the magazine now—only Loki had done an even better job. Jess swallowed once more, wishing, subconsciously, that he would touch her one last time. When he stepped away from her instead, she came to suppress a disappointed whimper.

“M is, um… you’ll be sent to a different unit next week.” She said, breaking the oddly peaceful but palpable silence between them.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. Reese recovered well, I mean, that’s what M told me. He will take over after the party.”

“What party?”

Jess stood, clutching the sink behind her for support—Loki did not fail to notice how flustered she was now, almost as if him braiding her hair had intensified whatever it was she felt for him. It had been a long time since he had last had to think this way upon meeting someone of the opposite sex, let alone a mortal woman.

“Dave is celebrating his anniversary this weekend. It’s a big deal here at the TVA, much more important than birthdays. M didn’t tell you about it, then.” She concluded.

Loki shook his head slowly and decided to give her a smirk. Her reaction, blood biting at her cheeks, pleased him. “I’d dare say I am not invited to your silly festivities.”

“M is thinking about it. About inviting you, I mean. And I guess you could… use a break from all… this. Besides, apart from security, everyone will be drunk by midnight. Lots of snacking and dancing…”

Loki rolled his eyes. He had already hated these kinds of parties back on Asgard. Fandral would shamelessly flirt with three women at once, Volstagg would stuff himself into a coma and Thor would brag with his hammer on the dance floor, making the women believe they could lift it as they danced with him.

If anything, however, this absurd anniversary was the perfect opportunity for him to let his charm play and gain her trust. Jess sighed, prompting him to look up and meet her eyes. She stood, approaching him with the hint of a smile both scornful and compassionate at the same time… and then wrapped her arms around him.

Loki tensed up, his arms hanging by his side motionlessly. Physical affection was the last thing he had expected in a place like this, even from Jess. Perhaps, gaining her trust would be easier than he thought it would be, and still, part of him was unable to deny how much he enjoyed knowing that someone at least pretended to care, as peculiar as she was. Her touch felt like someone had set his entire body ablaze.

“Listen, I know you’ve been through shit and I know you hate everyone right now, including me. M may or may not have red on his ledger but you’re a part of the team now. You’re one of us. If we don’t stand up for each other, then who will?”

“I never agreed on becoming a part of the team.” Loki responded darkly.

Jess moved away from him a little, her smile faltering. “Me neither.”

~*~

“You’ll have to explain that to me one more time. When your father, I mean, Odin, fell into the Odinsleep—whatever the hell that means—your mother gave you the throne?”

Loki hummed. That was the part of the story Thor had left out upon telling S.H.I.E.L.D. and all the other silly secret organisations run by mortals how dangerous and menacing his adoptive brother was.

Jess was flicking through one of the thickest books he had ever seen. It was a collection of astronomical anomalies written down in a language not even Loki could decipher and it was so big she had to stand upright rather than sit at her desk to read the top of the pages. She gazed at him from the corner of her eyes.

“Thor was no longer on Asgard and Mother refused to leave Odin’s side. I was the only one left fit to rule—only Thor’s idiotic friends did not accept me as their king.”

“Let me guess… they pretended you were the villain so you became the villain?” Nibbling on her candy necklace, she bit off a pearl with a loud crack. Loki flinched a little. It was short of a miracle she had not chipped any of her teeth yet.

“I saw my chance,” he said. “So I took it. I never saw myself as the villain. And I never lied. I was the rightful king of Asgard.”

Jess bent over to read the small print. She was still wearing the plait Loki had braided into her hair. It swayed from side to side a bit as it fell over her shoulder, revealing her neck. Her scent was almost unnerving—unnerving in a most ferocious and desirable way. Intoxicating. He had sensed it when she had hugged him already and now, part of him was greedy to press her close to him once more and feel her body against his. He suppressed a growl. He should be enjoying his quest to tiptoe nearer and nearer to getting this ridiculous collar off his neck and make this mortal woman swoon over him—not the other way around. He was the one in control. He had to be.

So he stepped closer, his tread so quiet Jess never heard him approach her.

“So you came to like it. The power of the throne?” She said without looking up. Loki nodded, oblivious to the fact she could not see him. She cursed under her breath when his arm brushed against hers, eliciting a barely noticeable smirk from him. It was amusing how quickly he could read her reactions to him now.

The Trickster swallowed. “I meant to prove myself to the man who never saw me as a potential heir in the first place.”

“How did Thanos find you?” Jess choked out when he moved in closer, demanding all of her attention to himself. It almost scared him how fast she forgot about the massive book on her desk, her eyes fixed on his face as if it bore the answer to all of her questions. Loki’s expression hardened nonetheless, regardless of how much the urge to taste her lips rose within him.

“How much do you know?”

“I know what M told me… that you were his ally and he helped you take over Earth in exchange for the Tesseract.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. “Then you know nothing.” Her glance found his lips now too. He was standing close enough for his warm breath to ghost over her mouth, her heart beating more rapidly with every passing second.

Fuck. Her office was being monitored. Sucking in a deep breath, she moved away from him and closed the thick book on her desk shut. “It’s late. We should head to the party.” She cleared her throat. “You can, um… wait for me here so I can get changed. Give me five.”

Loki nodded, taken by surprise until he noticed her glancing at the chunky surveillance camera in the corner of the room. Ah… there it was. The fear or shame or both to be caught being involved with him. Loki gnashed his teeth when she rushed past him, fleeing from the scene. That, at least, was something he was familiar with.

He remained in the office, almost as if glued to the spot, for a while longer before he made his way towards the cafeteria where the festivities would take place. Jess would catch up—besides, so he had to admit, he was indeed looking forward to seeing their faces when he joined the ridiculous little party and what it might give him to work with.

“Really, that’s all? That’s almost a little disappointing.” He heard Dave say in the distance, presumably a few yards away from him, his voice ricocheting through the dark hallway.

Loki stopped dead in his tracks. As silent as a mouse, he leaned against the wall, melted into it almost, and slowed down his breathing.

“Yes…” Another voice that Loki identified as Mobius’, replied. “We did take a risk with them but I must admit, I too almost expected a little… more. I thought one of them might… feel something, you know—a connection or recognition, maybe.” Loki could hear his suit ruffle as he shrugged. “Well, timelines can be unpredictable. We do know that better than anyone else.”

Connection. Recognition? For some peculiar reason, he was certain the pair were speaking about him. Him and… Jess? Who else could they possibly mean? His gut feeling, however, told him that he should, seidr or not, get rid of the security footage in Jess’ office as soon as possible. Whatever it was Mobius wanted to see unfolding between them, he was not going to grant him the satisfaction of presenting it to him on a silver platter.

Fortunately enough, they were too far away to hear him, he realised that once more when Jess’ footsteps echoed through the hallway. He knew it was her without even looking behind himself and yet, found his heart skipping a beat when she touched his arm.

“Ready? You know they might give you suspicious looks as soon as you… what are you doing?”

Loki gave her a disarming smile. “Nothing. Shall we?”

~*~

A/N: Put your swords up, put ‘em up; it’s going down.

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rockislandadultreads · 3 years

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Discovery & Exploration: a fiction book list

The Other Einstein by Marie Benedict

In the tradition of The Paris Wife and Mrs. Poe, The Other Einstein offers us a window into a brilliant, fascinating woman whose light was lost in Einstein's enormous shadow. It is the story of Einstein's wife, a brilliant physicist in her own right, whose contribution to the special theory of relativity is hotly debated and may have been inspired by her own profound and very personal insight. Mitza Maric has always been a little different from other girls. Most twenty-year-olds are wives by now, not studying physics at an elite Zurich university with only male students trying to outdo her clever calculations. But Mitza is smart enough to know that, for her, math is an easier path than marriage. And then fellow student Albert Einstein takes an interest in her, and the world turns sideways. Theirs becomes a partnership of the mind and of the heart, but there might not be room for more than one genius in a marriage.

The Movement of Stars by Amy Brill

A love story set in 1845 Nantucket, between a female astronomer and the unusual man who understands her dreams. It is 1845, and Hannah Gardner Price has lived all twenty-four years of her life according to the principles of the Nantucket Quaker community in which she was raised, where simplicity and restraint are valued above all, and a woman’s path is expected to lead to marriage and motherhood. But up on the rooftop each night, Hannah pursues a very different—and elusive—goal: discovering a comet and thereby winning a gold medal awarded by the King of Denmark, something unheard of for a woman. And then she meets Isaac Martin, a young, dark-skinned whaler from the Azores who, like herself, has ambitions beyond his expected station in life. Drawn to his intellectual curiosity and honest manner, Hannah agrees to take Isaac on as a student. but when their shared interest in the stars develops into something deeper, Hannah’s standing in the community begins to unravel, challenging her most fundamental beliefs about work and love, and ultimately changing the course of her life forever.

Enchantress of Numbers by Jennifer Chiaverini

The only legitimate child of Lord Byron, the most brilliant, revered, and scandalous of the Romantic poets, Ada was destined for fame long before her birth. Estranged from Ada’s father, who was infamously “mad, bad, and dangerous to know,” Ada’s mathematician mother is determined to save her only child from her perilous Byron heritage. Banishing fairy tales and make-believe from the nursery, Ada’s mother provides her daughter with a rigorous education grounded in mathematics and science. Any troubling spark of imagination—or worse yet, passion or poetry—is promptly extinguished. Or so her mother believes. When Ada is introduced into London society as a highly eligible young heiress, she at last discovers the intellectual and social circles she has craved all her life. Little does she realize that her delightful new friendship with inventor Charles Babbage—brilliant, charming, and occasionally curmudgeonly—will shape her destiny. Intrigued by the prototype of his first calculating machine, the Difference Engine, and enthralled by the plans for his even more advanced Analytical Engine, Ada resolves to help Babbage realize his extraordinary vision, unique in her understanding of how his invention could transform the world. All the while, she passionately studies mathematics—ignoring skeptics who consider it an unusual, even unhealthy pursuit for a woman—falls in love, discovers the shocking secrets behind her parents’ estrangement, and comes to terms with the unquenchable fire of her imagination.

The Tenth Muse by Catherine Chung

The first thing I remember being said of me with any consistency was that I was intelligent—and I recognized even then that it was a comment leveled at me with as much disapproval as admiration. Still, I never tried to hide or suppress my mind as some girls do, and thank God, because that would have been the beginning of the end. From childhood, Katherine knows she is different, and that her parents are not who they seem to be. But in becoming a mathematician, she must face the most human of problems—who is she? What is the cost of love, and what is the cost of ambition? On her quest to conquer the Riemann Hypothesis, the greatest unsolved mathematical problem of her time, she turns to a theorem with a mysterious history that holds both the lock and key to her identity, and to secrets long buried during World War II in Germany. Forced to confront some of the most consequential events of the twentieth century and rethink everything she knows of herself, she strives to take her place in the world of higher mathematics and finds kinship in the stories of the women who came before her—their love of the language of numbers connecting them across generations.

#historical fiction #fiction #romance #female main character #female scholars #discovery #adventure #good books #Book Recommendations #reading recommendations #to read #tbr #booklr #reading list #strong MC

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animatedminds · 3 years

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Pixar’s Soul: Review and Reaction

The first sentence I’ve always used to describe Pete Docter and Pixar’s Soul since watching it has nothing to do with the plot. It’s instead is a starstruck comment about the music: the movie begins with a cover of a Duke Ellington classic - Mercer Ellington’s “Things Ain’t What they Used to Be.” It ends with a jazz rendition of a classic from several decades later - but still quite a bit in our past - Curtis Mayfield’s soul classic “It’s Alright.” On a personal level, this would say way more about Soul that most other descriptions of it might to get me to watch it - were I not the kind of person who was absolutely intent on watching the movie day one regardless. Though I am myself a few generations after either of those artists were around, their music has been a part of my life since I was a kid and are essential on any playlist in my opinion. Curtis Mayfield’s music, especially, deserves all the love in the world, and hearing by surprise someone cover his work in a Disney movie made my entire day - and it would have, even if the film weren’t the meaningful ride it is.

But before we get into all that, lets also look at those songs. “Things Aren’t What They Used To Be” is played a la a teacher and a higher school band class: the students are learning and a bit difficult to listen to, while the music-loving teacher cringes at the front. But the choice of song tells us a lot. It’s a jazz standard: which means when it comes to jazz, it’s one of the essentials - a tune every band learns to play, and every jazz fan has heard before. The teacher is a jazzman - you can probably guess who - and the whole time he’s listening to the song you can hear him wanting to sit down and make it sound as perfectly as he hears it in his head. Remember that analogy. Heck, when you watch or rewatch the movie, remember the mindset Joe - because that’s who that teacher is, Joe Gardner, is in for that whole teaching scene in the first place: and remember how important the desire to make things perfect is to the greater story the movie is trying to tell.

“Things Aren’t The Way They Used To Be,” indeed. By the end, you have to wonder: isn’t that the point? Now the second song. “It’s All Right” is a smooth number for dancing to - not frenetic and wild dancing, but more a slow jam sort of vibe. BUt it’s the lyrics that are the most befitting the themes of the movie. Like several of Curtis Mayfield’s tunes “It’s All Right” is an ear worm of an R&B number that’s actually about being a peace with yourself. “You’ve got soul” - ha, I get it - “and everybody knows, that it’s all right.” Or, to quote instead my favorite verse of the song (I did say Mayfield was one of my favorites): “when you wake up early in the morning feeling sad like so many of us do, hum a little soul, make life your goal, and surely something’s gonna come to you.” This is before the spoilery part of the review, but they could not have picked a better song for the movie’s themes if they wrote it themselves.

Soul, after all, is ultimately a movie about how the things we do, the things we love, even the things that define us and should make us feel good in and of themselves, can become a shackle that prevents us from feeling the things that we adopt them to feel. Dreams - especially dreams deferred - can consume us rather than uplift us, and sometimes in pursuing them we may forget to live, and forget that others are living in this world and dreaming alongside us.

This, as you might be able to tell from the way I’ve described it, is a movie with a very strong, and most importantly very well related message that - as we’ve come to expect from Pixar’s output at this point - touches us in our jaded adult hearts. As a creative person with lofty dreams who has almost literally been where the protagonist is in this film - and as many in my generation also have gone through - it definitely feels like a film that was directed straight at the generation that first watched Toy Story as kids decades ago, and now feel somewhat unfulfilled as adults going into the world. Same as Inside Out (a movie specifically designed to make adults cry, in my opinion), the SparkShorts and arguably Onward (I definitely related to Bailey, some). So much like my review of Jingle Jangle, you have something of an idea where this review is going to go before the jump, but that’s okay. This movie did have ups and downs, but its just the kind of up Pixar is good at: they know they’re audience, and especially did for this gem. By the end, it can definitely make you feel as though you too can make it through, as long as you have a little Soul. However, it is not just the message, but the nuances and skill in which they relate that message (and they do come close to making decisions that could have ruined it, at times), which means it’s very difficult for me to put why this movie works into a review without SPOILERS. If you want to avoid SPOILERS, don’t hop over the pic and instead treat the above as your non-SPOILER review.

Soul is the story of one Joe Gardner, played by Jamie Foxx a brilliant early middle-aged pianist with lifelong dreams of becoming a jazz musician, who we first meet teaching part time band at a local high school. The inciting incident is an interesting choice: Joe gets a major offer - he can come on as a full time teacher, making his occupation a career! But Joe believes very much in the adage that “those who cannot do, teach” - in the sense that he wants to do. He cannot accept the position - over the advice of his mother - because that would mean giving up on his dream of being out there playing music for a living: a dream that has consumed him his entire life but which has given him nothing in return. Until now. While agonizing over the decision to take the position, Joe's life then gets a big twist: a former student of his, remembering him fondly years after they knew each other, has a hook for him to join the band of a famous jazz singer and saxophonist - played by Angela Basset (side note, here: jazz has long had a reputation for being something of a boys club, especially for certain instruments, and the choice to have the lead saxophonist and famous idol whose band Joe wants to join be a woman is a great choice that my entire jazz-loving and living family took note of). Joe is instantly elated - he rushes over and naturally aces the audition for the part in the band, and so is on cloud nine...

Until he dies. That’s when the plot really starts. Joe falls down a manhole like an astronomer in an aesop fable, and is now stuck on the slow escalator to The Great Beyond. Naturally, he’s not for that and tries to escape - pursued by overeager spiritual soul-accountant Terry - ending up in the Great Before instead, and leaving his body in a still-living coma (the implications that coma patients in general are people who are choosing not to die when they’re “supposed” to is something I’m sure the writers didn’t intend, so I’ll let it slide). There, Joe is pressganged into mentoring a pre-prepared soul for birth, helping them find their Spark for life - which Joe interprets as the one true purpose and dream they are meant to fulfill. Once he gets them their Spark, he will be able to steal a badge his mentee earns as fully fledged souls and . Luckily for his intended very morally suspect intent on spiritual larceny, he ends up with Soul #22 - and that’s #22 out of hundreds of billions - a soul who has simply never found a Spark despite having been in the Great Before for thousands of years. #22 doesn’t want to live, so she agrees to give him her patch when they’re done. But no mentor before has been able to inspire her (well, technically #22 is genderless, as she demonstrates in the story at Joe’s request, but she is voiced by Tina Fey), so how can Joe? When that proves to be too hard indeed, #22 instead decides to help Joe get back - mostly because she’s intrigued at why anyone would want to cling to life so badly - with the help of some mystics who astral project while in the Zone: where everyone goes when they’re fully immersed in what they do. This almost works, but at the last second everything goes awry: #22 gets mixed up with Joe when he returns, and so he doesn’t quite get back the way he wants to...

That’s enough plot summary for now. That’s all just the set-up anyway, for the choices in writing and concept that I’m about to talk about. As you might have been able to tell from that ominous last note, the middle chunk of Soul - almost right up until the climax, in fact - is actually a body-swap movie, a la Freaky Friday. #22 ends up in Joe’s body, so he has to get her to do the things he needs to get ready for his gig and get through the day while they wait for the mystic to bring a way to set everything right. And did I mention he’s in the body of a cat? Having been following the movie, this wasn’t entirely a surprise, but it was still not something I was entirely ready for coming in. I tend to shy away from that kind of story on a personal level, as body-swap narratives are nearly predominantly based on cringe moments and awkward misconceptions - and that sort of thing usually tends to make me want to leave the scene in question and get a cup of water until after the awkwardness passes. However, this isn’t really part of the review in the sense that I perceive that the movie being in that genre is a flaw - because ultimately that’s just an aspect of my personal taste. Rather, I use it to show just how strong a movie Soul was and how well its narrative choices resonated with its themes that ultimately while it did indeed partake in your typical body-swap narrative cringe moments - “look, the [redacted] in Joe’s body just ran into his boss / mom!” / “look, the [redacted] is having a bizarre conversation with Joe’s friends!” / etc - those moments actually add to the narrative rather than take you out of it. Joe as “friends,” as exemplified by the barber he goes to to get his hair ready for the gig when it inevitably gets ruined in a bout of hijinks (the barber being that extremely well-designed bearded character the internet went wild over). He goes to that barber all the time, talks with him constantly, and believes he knows him well. But it turns out that Joe’s so wrapped up in his wants and desires that he’s never even asked him about his life - he just assumed that the barber was like him, born to do that one thing he was good at. It takes #22′s innocent, slightly off-kilter and occasional philosophical questions about what the heck all this “life” stuff is about for Joe to learn that this person in his life didn’t even want to be where he ended up initially, he ended up there because that’s the way his life turned, but he loves it because it’s life and he appreciates the world he’s come to create around himself. Likewise, he runs into his mom, but while Joe has come to expect his mother to be dismissive of him and his dreams, it takes an accident with #22 for him to realize that he’s been so caught up in his desires and her in her preconceptions that neither of them have ever had a real talk about their relationship, nor given a chance to grow in each other’s eyes. You might notice a trend. One of Joe’s students - a brilliant trombonist - comes to tell him she’s quitting band, but she doesn’t really. She’s just insecure because the other students make fun of her. Joe knows this already - it’s become commonplace to him - so the doesn’t feel the need to do anything about it and instead focuses on his own needs. But #22 decides to talk to her on a whim, and this push and pull of insecurity but joy in what one is good at fascinates her, while it bores Joe. While - like any other New Yorker - public transit is a chore to Joe, the melting pot of people and music draws #22 in: best evidenced by the moment where Joe and #22 meet another great musician playing for tips in the subway. Joe, despite being capable of relating as a musician, just walks past him after appreciating the sound for a sec, while #22, entranced by the things people do, leaves something for him. The world is drab and lacking in vibrancy from Joe’s point of view, as evidenced by the very accurate grimy look of the high school he work at - but from #22′s seemingly jaded eyes seeing it for the first time, it’s full of wonder.

This actually creates an interesting character contrast on top of the one we already know: Joe is the idealist, and #22 is the cynic... right? Well, it turns out Joe doesn’t have much of an appreciation for the world around him - not intentionally, but still to a very strong degree - whereas #22 simply hasn’t had the chance to experience life yet and thus never knew what it was that made people want to be part of it. Life itself becomes her Spark, though neither of them realize it at the time. Lets just get the aesop out of the way now. Your dream is not your life: that’s what Soul wants to say. Things that compel you as a person may consume you, even embitter you, and prevent you from seeing the world around you for what it is. But that doesn’t make dreams a bad thing: people everywhere find that Spark from the dreams to keep moving forward - it’s just that it shouldn’t preclude living, nor should living preclude your dreams. Life is a delicate balance, and man is this movie serving up some complicated life lessons here. I immediately took this as a far more mature take on the message The Princess and the Frog stumbled somewhat through years ago (man, I’m turning out to be pretty hard on that movie in this blog). My biggest issue with PATF is that it tells us that Tiana should be less intent on her dream and find love instead, but doesn’t show us. It’s just characters chiding her for not settling down until the plot ultimately pushes a man in front of her and she realizes she should’ve been finding one all along. That’s a very harsh way of putting it, but it condenses what I’m trying to say: ultimately PATF pushes Tiana to realizations she doesn’t seem to need, whereas Soul has a similar message about life and does so by focusing on character development, about how the protagonist doesn’t have as firm a handle on his life as he thought, and thus brings us a take on the lesson that’s far less cut and dry.

If you’re a fan of The Incredibles, the comparison to Mr. Incredible is fairly easy. Joe, though well meaning and decent overall, is a very self-centered person who happens to be so for very sympathetic and relatable reasons. He just wants to do the thing he feels he was born to. He'll do anything to get back to life and do that thing, even for a single night. He’s consumed by this desire so much that he's oblivious to the people around him, unable to connect to the people he loves, and unable to find joy in anything but his dream. And man, as a young writer who knows in their heart of hearts they can do great things and feels pain at the idea of not doing so, that hits different let me tell you.

The lessons Joe learns from #22 even stick. It turns out that part of what caused Joe’s dream to fail all those time was because of that lack of connection with life. He never presented himself in a way that got people to take notice of him, he never pushed for that position he wanted even though people said no, he never made himself and his life so vibrant that he glowed in the eyes of others (and again, that hits different). That’s maybe the most simplistic message of the bunch, but as a person in the creative field it’s true that sometimes being the smartest person in the room isn’t enough: it’s making himself shine that ultimately clinches Joe the gig even after he almost lost it thanks to the day’s shenanigans.

But in the end, it doesn’t feel like he thought he would.

Remember when I said there are parts where the movie comes perilously close to kiboshing its message? That moment is one, it’s the one. Not that that moment is bad - far from it, it’s the best moment in the entire movie (and you can fight me on that if you want to). It’s because it’s the crossroads, the pin, the core of the entire film: depending on the choice they made after that point, that moment could have either been the best moment in the entire movie, or the moment that toppled everything.

The realization of Joe’s dream doesn’t feel like the explosion of confetti and catharsis that he expected. It was just another moment of his life, a great one, but it’s still just part of his life. So what does Joe do? Does he panic? Does he keep going until it feels good? Does he - as he would in a lesser movie trying to give a cookie cutter aesop - immediately quit and realize he should’ve been teaching all along? No, he does none of those things. He absorbs the moment. He realizes that at the end of the dream you’re still just living life, and that you have to appreciate that. Joe isn’t wrong for pursuit of his dream. He’s not wrong for believing that hopes and dreams make life so much more worthwhile. He’s wrong in thinking that those dreams are all that define us, and that their realization is all that makes people themselves worthwhile at all.

And in the end - though I may be getting a bit too referential for this - the unexamined life is just so much less fulfilling than the alternative.

And all that a message and a half! It hits different. It’s mature as all heck. It’s something people my age (especially in my generation), twice my age, half my age never learn. It’s a callsign that sometimes Pixar is still make movies for the people who were kids way back when Toy Story was released, and are now insecure adults wondering why the world isn’t as wonderful as they saw on the screen. It’s brilliant. I said before that Joe interprets the “Spark” to be one’s purpose in life. The one thing that makes them who they are, that they are on the planet to do. He is wrong, absolutely and utterly. And in that misconception, when #22 finally does get their Spark just from being on Earth and seeing what its life, he accuses them of leeching self-actualization over his own personal ambitions, fully believing that they didn’t find a “purpose" on her own, but just copied his. But the Spark, as it turns out, is just the joy of living, the thing that makes people want to live. It can come from a dream, or just from watching the beauty of the sun set over a leaf drifting in the wind. Only in understanding this can Joe finally understand what he’s been missing in life, only then can he reconcile with #22 and help her finally be born, only then can he walk into the world and know how he’s going to live it.

We never find out what Joe decides, whether he goes back to teaching, or continues with the band. The choice is open to him, but we never find out which one he takes - another choice that keeps the aesop from falling apart. The point of all of that wasn’t that Joe has to do one thing or another to be happy, it was that Joe needs to be happy and secure in himself before he chooses what his life should be. Either of those could make him happy. Neither of those could. But now he’s in a much better place to see it, and do what he can.

We also never find out what #22 is like when she (or he, etc) is born. The two of them never meet past the point where #22 goes to Earth. Their time together has passed, and #22′s life is now their own. And that’s a great choice either. I’ve seen the occasional person feel that the choice made in this paragraph or noted in the previous one made the story confusing, but they’re ultimately what make the story what it is. The answer isn’t the necessity of resolution, its the reaffirmation of the journey. It reminds me somewhat of Wreck-It Ralph (an example of the main Disney Studio delivering a complex aesop, rather Pixar delivering them all), where being a villain wasn’t Ralph’s problem - it was that he wasn’t happy doing the thing he loved. You have to live, from living you will learn, and from learning you will do. The sheer incredible execution of this message (as you may have guessed, it’s a fairly difficult one to relay adequately in a film narrative, and the movie goes non-traditional in conclusion to maintain it) would have made this film a recommend for me even if it wasn't also beautifully animated, very well acted, funny (there’s a Knicks joke that floored me), heartwarming and relatable. But it’s also all of those things, so I have to recommend it twice as much. It is, regrettably, another movie with a black lead where the lead spends most of it transfigured into a form that’s not a black person (a soul, and then a cat), and I’ve already seen some grumbling that instead for much of it a character explicitly coded as a white woman is in his body instead, but I perceive that as an issue that’s endemic to the industry than a fault in this movie specifically. Everyone does that, but this is the only movie I’ve seen where doing that is an essential part of how the narrative develops the characters (Joe has to not be himself in order to understand his life from an outside perspective, a la Scrooge as a ghost watching his own history), and so I don’t scorn the movie for it. I, however, would very much like Hollywood to start doing that less, and - hey - as a prospective writer that’s one of those things I plan to do my part to combat. This movie, however, gets a pass in my book in ways that the general usage of this concept does not. In short, you should see it. If you get the chance to see it right now, you should take it to feel good at the end of this incredibly insane year. If you don’t want to have to sign up for Disney+ to see it now, I get you and understand, but if you get a chance to see it later do not pass it up. It’s one of the few movies I’ve watched that are an instant buy when it becomes available on digital - and the last time a movie did that for me was BlacKKKlansman. Whatever you choose to do, do it well. Keep the spirit alive, always keep searching for the real you - because it’s not always easy to find, but it’s worth looking for - and always remember that you could always have a little soul.

#Soul #film review #Disney Pixar #Pixar #Pete Docter #Jamie Foxx #Tina Fey #the afterlife #self actualization #jazz #curtis mayfield #duke ellington #animated film #animation review #animated minds for animated times #Joe Gardner #22 #recommended

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1zashreena1 · 4 years

Text

No Shame -2

Pairing: M/F, nebulously OC/Priest!Diego Jimenez [Starz Power] AU IMAGINE

Rating: LITERAL FILTH

Warnings: Power imbalance, astronomical blasphemy, Diego’s pornographic mouth, old timey woman related bullshit, set some time before 1900 in what will be present day Mexico

A/N: I guess I’m just gonna keep writing until it stops?? I am an atheist so please keep that in mind as I unintentionally mangle Christianity in general and Catholicism in particular. This was prompted by an ask, you know who you are >.>.

Tag a friend! @girlpornparadise @nicke0115 @fleurfatale89 @mandoplease @heresathreebee @chensingmachinee

It takes some effort to lace up a steel boned corset by yourself while wearing it, but you manage.

"He already admitted to liking you, honey, calm yourself." Your father laughs uproariously at the ridiculous display of cleavage.

You shrug helplessly, Dress to impress and all that, you suppose. Besides, I want him to suffer. This time you do wear all the underpinnings deemed a requirement by polite society. You are going to make him work for it.

This was a mistake.

He had sent a cabriolet with its driver, that should have been your first clue.

The hacienda is a sprawling estate, acres of land carved from the surrounding jungle and most likely painstakingly maintained. You pass through meticulously flattened fields with small cabins for workers and then gently rolling pastures closer to the main house. There is a large stable and an adjacent training paddock where two exquisite horses are being worked. You ache to see the beautiful animals, they had always been beyond the means of your family.

Several other carriages are already here. Oh no.

This is so far above your station that you feel sick. This is a world of landed gentry, of manners drilled in by formal boarding schools and titles you could never aspire to touch. You have severely misunderstood what it meant to be a Don.

Why did he do what he did in the church? Why invite me here? Why ask my father to court me? I am nothing compared to this. You despair silently, your father oblivious next to you.

The servants seem to know who you are, And isn't that terrifying?, and you're led into some kind of sitting room with other guests. Your dress must be incredibly out of fashion, people are staring. Although it could be the vast stretch of cleavage on display, you make note that most of the other women are significantly smaller than you. Their brightly colored dresses are trimmed in lace with subdued skirts, your skirt has rather a lot of flounce to it and the lilac color seems so… bland. Their hair is combed and neatly contained, artfully placed solitary ringlets that you know were made with curling tongs. Your natural curls are wild and expansive, the single twist at each of your temples combined into one long braid down your back only to keep it out of your face. There is a family of blondes, but everyone else is brunette. Your deep red hair is garishly out of place.

I do not belong here. You are desperately trying to fabricate some excusable sickness to beg off and escape when you see him. He has a smartly dressed woman hanging off of each arm and is gesticulating wildly while relaying some story. Dressed in garments so fine you do not even know what the material is, the sight of him makes your womanhood clench and your nipples pebble.

Ridiculous.

He catches sight of you as you are turning away. You spotted some books on a shelf in a corner and are about to seek refuge when he breaks away to head straight for you. For the first time in your life you opt for cowardice and run. From the edge of your vision you can see that all it does is lengthen those stalking strides. The books that were meant to be your salvation are, of course, in Spanish. Well damn.

An extremely large hand lands on your lower back and your heart leaps. He rumbles much too closely for polite company, "Buenas noches, Señorita. You look ravishable."

Did he mean ravishing? You make the mistake of looking up into that painfully handsome face. His grin is pure predator. No, he did not. Your temper flares with your desire.

"Good evening, Father." You hiss quietly. "You have a lot of nerve." Is it rude to immediately insult your host?

"Me? But yet, here you are. Tell me, little girl, did you wear anything under your skirts this time?" Those dark eyes twinkle happily. He is enjoying this. You lean down to place a book on the end table and his gaze drops to your chest. Licking his lips, he mutters under his breath, "We have a selection of proverbs here. Somewhere."

This man is infuriating.

"Do you expect to find out?" The question is meant to sound condescending, it seems a tiny bit hopeful. Your brain is muddled by his proximity, the scent of expensive toiletries is highly distracting. You bathed outside under a spring fed waterfall this morning. What am I doing?

"I suppose that depends on how sinful you have been today. If you have yet to sin, may I offer my hand in assistance?" Diego leans closer with his seemingly solicitous offer. You are struck by the near perfect arrangement of his features, the tiny crinkles at the outer corners of his eyes only adding to his appeal. His lips are framed by perfectly trimmed facial hair, the smooth cheeks a sign that he must have shaved today. His smirk reminds you that you’ve been staring at him breathlessly.

"I am sure I can handle myself." You smile beautifically. He exhales in a huff, his shoulders dropping in surprise at your innuendo. Then he smiles a real smile.

You are devastated. He is a very attractive man, but this, this is blinding. Your heart stutters, your stomach drops, and you nearly whimper.

"I, I saw your horse." What? WHAT? Why did you just say that? "And the others, outside, on our way in." If you could melt into the wall and disappear that would be wonderful.

The hand on your back rubs a small circle comfortingly. Diego steps closer yet, his hip brushes your elbow and you curse your stature. He quirks a brow with his next question, "Do you like to ride?"

He is fairly excited at the prospect of your answer but you have no idea why. You cross your arms to get a tiny bit of space from him, it only amplifies your bust. Sighing, you answer, "I do not know. My family was never in a position to own a horse." There. Now he knows how poor you truly are, just how far below him.

"A shame." He murmurs, "You are built for it." His hand sinks lower to the very top of your buttocks. There is something you are definitely missing here. Brow furrowing, you look up at him. His expression softens at your obvious confusion, but he is still quite pleased. His subsequent offer is charming, "After dinner, would you like to tour the stables?"

Your whole face transforms as you smile broadly. "I would love that." The wonder in your voice is unmistakable.

"It will be my pleasure, little girl. Now, if you will excuse me, my sister is demanding my presence." He purrs. You follow his line of sight to a woman who looks vastly different from him, but has the same eyes. She arches a brow, just as Diego does, and gestures sharply.

"Of course." You answer softly to no one as he is already strolling away. The loss of his presence makes you feel cold and very alone.

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

Dinner is an ordeal. There are several courses, foods you cannot identify, and no less than three spoons. Dessert induces discreet gagging on your part as flan is very… jiggly.

Careful observation is enlightening, you learn that several other guests are Dons of neighboring towns. Their wives accompany them, but you get the distinct impression that the unmarried sisters and daughters are on display. You come to understand that Diego is the only bachelor Don of majority age in a 300 mile radius.

This is a competition that you have no business being anywhere near.

And just how old is he?

You are sipping chocolate next to an archway in the open air courtyard, attempting to ignore the stares, when a dark voice assaults your ear temptingly.

"Are you ready, little girl?" The purring rattle makes your knees shake and your mouth salivate.

"Oh yes please thank you now." Relief palpable, you whip around to find Diego looming over you, the one hand being held out in invitation is now firmly squashed into your generous bosom. His brows climb to his hairline as you clear your throat. "I- yes."

He wiggles his fingers in your cleavage and you take his hand with more force than is strictly necessary. He grins down at you, "Very good, little girl."

You whimper. You cannot help it, the tiniest of noises, soft and high pitched, your lips do not even need to part for him to hear it. Please no, not here in front of all of your peers, you silently beg. Except, his face goes slack and his fingers tighten around yours.

Oh. Do your noises have an effect on him? Is this power that you have? Experimentally, you lick your lips. His gaze drops and his pupils widen as he mimics your movements unconsciously. Oh yes, that curl of power surfaces again in your belly. This you can work to your advantage. You smirk, "Shall we?"

His dark gaze is hungry as he glares at you, displeased with the reversal in the play of power. He growls, "Yes, you shall ride."

You are drug off before you can protest about your attire not being made for such activities. You have a sneaking suspicion that his only suggestion would be to remove it. You are having trouble remembering why that is a bad idea while your hand is tucked into the crook of his massive arm, fingers curled around bulging muscle.

You need to clear your head.

The stables are dim in the evening light and the smell of grain strong. Your only pair of nice shoes clicks on the wooden floor as you pull away from him to look around. Diego releases you but watches closely.

The horse's names are engraved on plaques above the stalls. Your casita does not even have a street address. I do not belong here. Your hands reach out to touch and a large nose appears over the stall door. "Hello," you check the plate, "Dante." Of course this is his horse.

The gray muzzle is soft as velvet and the stallion huffs at you in a blast of air that blows your hair back. The horse darts forward and you realize just how big he is. One step backwards to retreat lands you squarely in the middle of a broad chest.

"I will show you." Diego states simply. He reaches up with both hands on either side of you and takes the halter in his grasp firmly. With a gentle tug, Dante's head comes down and Diego curves over you to touch his forehead to the horse's. "Now you, little girl."

You reach up to take Dante in hand and the stallion rushes to do the same with you. His forelock tickles and you laugh delightedly.

"He likes you." Diego declares.

"How do you know?" Intelligence shines brightly in the animal's eyes and you pet him.

"He bites everyone except me." Diego shrugs.

Oh. You hedge softly, "Maybe he senses that you like me." Diego snorts above you. Snippily, you elaborate, "Beg pardon? Are you often in the habit of asking to court women you do not like?"

"I have never asked to court another woman."

The rumbling admission gives you pause. Those massive hands settle on your hips and squeeze tightly. You continue petting Dante resolutely, determined to remain stoic. The hands slide inward, around your hips to spread wide over your entire abdomen. Everything inside you is aflame. Ever higher, his touch travels until he cups your breasts firmly. There is no give in the steel boned corset and the large man behind you growls in frustration.

"Why would you wear such a thing?" His voice is rough with want, it makes you gasp.

"For p-precisely this situation." Your retort is less bite and more whine. "You must understand that I am not some, some, plaything to be had, available at your beck and call."

His beard scrapes your neck as he leans down into you to whisper, "Are you certain, little girl?"

"I have already been the laughingstock of one community. I refuse to be the joke of another." Your voice shakes with anger. Or perhaps anticipation. It is difficult to tell as he licks your ear.

"Does this feel like play?" He growls as you are pressed to the stall door at your front. His hardened length bites into your lower back and he grinds his hips harshly. Your soft wail startles Dante and he shies away.

"You will ride Dante and then you will ride me. After that, I will have my answer." He sinks teeth into your bared neck. What was the question? Your thoughts have stalled entirely.

"I, I do not know how to. To ride." Rubbing your legs together, you keen quietly. Your center contracts down on nothing angrily and your fingers claw into the wood.

"I am quite certain that I can teach you. After all, you are a quick study." Diego releases you suddenly and your body trembles. He goes about the business of saddling his horse while you continue melting as you watch his muscles work.

Fully tacked and waiting, Dante snorts at you as Diego beckons. His dark eyes dance with mischief, "Come mount, little girl."

You set your shoulders with stubbornness and stomp to him. Motioning to the stirrups you bark, "I am too shor--"

Diego picks you up like a child and you scramble for the saddle. Your skirts get tangled between your legs and crushed underneath you when you sit. The feel of the saddle pressed hard to your core means that you do not care. Every time you shift or Dante moves the leather rubs you pleasantly. There is no escape from the stimulation and you can feel yourself becoming wet. You have no idea how much time has passed while you tried to acclimate to this new development.

"Shit." Your unladylike hiss is deafening in the empty stable.

Diego doubles over in booming laughter and you suddenly remember the source of your current vexation.

"A warning would have been nice." You snap. He looks up at you with tears, his face scrunched up adorably. Your heart stops as you realize how beautiful he truly is.

"How do I warn for something I have never experienced?" He chokes and resumes laughing gleefully. Truly, an overgrown child.

You sigh, but pick up the reins determinedly and look down at him expectantly. Smiling broadly with your taunt, "I await your instruction, Father."

Those brown eyes flash with fire and you wonder briefly if you should be playing with that. He licks his lips but goes on to correct your seating, show you the proper way to utilize the reins, and then leads you out into a small paddock behind the building.

Walking is a noticeable feeling. Trotting is just painful. A canter is delicious torture. The stride is smooth and rocking, your exhilaration is twofold with dual excitement. Dante is responsive and feisty, you enjoy his personality and try not to examine why too closely. Diego intervenes occasionally to make small adjustments but has proclaimed you a natural with great enjoyment.

It is almost dark when he leads you back inside the stable, your face beaming. You struggle to dismount, Diego simply hauls you off and plops you on the ground… Except your legs collapse.

Diego, The absolute cad, uses this opportunity to crush you to his chest and stabilize you by sliding a long leg between your own. The moment the pressure occurs you feel a vast amount of wetness. That cannot be good, you panic and shove away from him, stumbling over to a chest to sit. Your wild hair is a disaster and you hide behind it as you check your layers. Relief washes over you as the outer skirt is dry, only the three inner layers are soaked through.

"What?" You whisper to yourself in confused terror. Is this normal? Do all women have this response? Is there something wrong with me? Am I hurt? A shadow falling over the skirts pulls your attention as Diego kneels in front of you. His smirk eases your fears.

"Do you have a problem, little girl?"

"You knew what would happen." You accuse softly. He does not even attempt to feign innocence.

"Oh, of course." His pleased rumble is accompanied by a toothy grin. Your hand flashes out faster than you can see. The crack of the slap on his cheek is muffled by all of the equipment that lines the walls.

Oh no.

He lurches forward and you shriek. His left hand encircles both of your wrists and he slams them to the wall above your head. The right hand hits your center with considerable force. Your legs jump, but he has the left pinned and his bulk squeezed between.

"I did not me--" He does not let you finish.

"I know what you meant. But do you?" Diego growls. You shake your head, a single tear slipping out. "Oh, but you are wet, are you not?" His fingers locate that pulsing bundle of nerves and he rubs slowly from side to side. Just as you had done in the confessional.

"S-stop. The other p-people, my skirt, it is. P-please do not ruin me like this." You beg as tears drip steadily down your cheeks, eyes squeezed shut. The hand retreats, your skirt rustles as he slips under all of the layers and returns to you. The heat of his hand is like an open flame on your oversensitized center.

"It is simple. Do you want this or no?" The decision is anything but simple. You want it, you want him, even now as he restrains your body and threatens your reputation. Your fear is sharp and sour, you had hoped to start over here. A new home in a new country far from your disgraced status. You miss your mother. She would shake her head over it but tell you to chase happiness. What do I have left to lose?

"Do you truly mean to court me? It is not s-some cover to use me this way?" Why? Why do you have to ask these things? Why am I like this?

His fingers press harder and you writhe. It would not take much to break you, I wonder if he knows?

"I rather enjoy your company. Intelligent, you speak your mind, you respond beautifully, and you took my cock so very well, little girl." His praise is followed by a drastic increase in pressure and you sob your answer with your release.

"Yesss, yes, oh yes, please, yes. Yesyesyes. I want. Ohh, I want you." Your body seizes as you bear down on nothing, the pleasure almost painful. The sobs are cut off by Diego covering your mouth with his. He forces you wide open and licks everything he can reach, all you can do is give in to him. The hair on his face burns and you moan.

He breaks away, pulls you to your feet, and then directly into an empty stall. Your legs falter but the momentum puts you exactly where he wants you.

Which is straddling his lap. What is he-- OHHH. The feel of his straining manhood poking up into you makes everything clear. You brace on his shoulders as his hands dive beneath your dress to rip open the bloomers and then free himself. He is lying back on a bale of hay, your feet are flat on the floor to either side. You know when his pants are down because the heat of him is molten. His fingers stroke over you from bottom to top, you are dripping, then he angles his length and-

"Ahhhhh!" Your shriek is piercing.

"Ohhhh, sí, little girl. So tight for me. Such a grip." He groans and drops his head down limply. You cannot see anything through your layers and he feels enormous.

"Wait, wait, please." You pant and he freezes to look up at you. "I have never, I did not even know you could, in this way. What do I do?" Terrified, you place your trust in this man who tricked you but made you feel so very good.

"Knees. Kneel, here." He hisses and pats next to his waist. You both moan as you shift and wiggle to position yourself. As you settle you bounce a bit, he bites his lip and digs fingers into your thighs. You try it again, the friction of him slipping out of you is good, but when you ease back down, well, you both make noise.

"I, I think I see." You grit out. With the corset on you cannot move your upper body much, but your hips are free. Your eyes close and you let the sensations guide you. Your hips bounce, your rear bounces, faster feels better, if you lean forward onto his chest you can move your pelvis quicker. A hand fists in your hair and he pulls, Oh, that feels good, you open your eyes. He is staring up at you, pupils gigantic, panting harshly.

"You. You are a very, very, good girl." He marvels. You keen and go faster, the praise makes everything feel better. His other hand reaches between you, finding your pleasure again as you shudder above his big body, dropping your weight to impale yourself entirely as you convulse around him.

"Ohh, oh. Yesyesyessssssss." Your whining cries seem to please him, he works you over again and again. You have never experienced anything like this, you are starving for it. He releases your hair to burrow both hands under your skirts and reach around to grasp your rear. You yelp, "What are you--"

He slaps you with intent, you lurch up his chest from the force, then he yanks you back down to be filled decisively. You have not been spanked since you were ten, this is catastrophically better.

"Again!" You demand hoarsely. Diego laughs but repeats the maneuver. You yelp with each slap, then moan every time he fills you.

"Does my bad little girl need punishment?" He rasps into your hair. Nodding deliriously, you claw into his muscled chest, whimpering for more. "Do not fret. Father will take care of you."

"Oh yes, please. Please. Please, Father!" You have lost the last shred of control over your own tongue. Those strapping hands secure your hips and he snaps his own up into you. He hits something deep inside that makes you collapse and he does it repeatedly until you flutter around him weakly and bawl into his ruffled shirt. His movements become stilted as he grunts above your head. A few more vicious thrusts and he groans loudly while holding you fast to his pelvis.

You can feel him emptying into you. This, too, is not new to you but very much more intense than ever before. He is prodigious. That big body goes boneless below you and he sighs contentedly.

"That was far better than dessert." Diego declares.

You snort, then giggle, and the giggles morph into hysterical laughter before you know it. He slips out of your quaking body, it is a distinctly odd feeling, when he joins your mirth. You prop up just enough to see his face, laugh lines frame those deep eyes and he has dimples! This is unfair. The man is a work of art.

You try and fail to sit up.

"I. Um. I cannot seem to stand." The confession is small and self-conscious. You are deeply embarrassed.

"Then do not. It is raining, no one will come out here until it stops." A big hand strokes over your hair and you fight down panic. He breathes deeply, raising you with every inhale. The heartbeat under your cheek is strong and steady, inescapable as a force of nature. Slowly but surely the tension leaves your spine and you drape over him.

"I did not know it could be done that way." You admit. Stroking rhythmically over his arm is soothing.

"Your husband must have been quite unimaginative." His remark is offhand, thoughtless. It stabs into your chest and you remember your situation. You pull back and manage to sit upright this time, he allows it but does not fully release you.

Shaking hands reach up to touch his face. Diego arches a brow but remains still while you trace over his features. Your heart fills with dread but you have to know. Voice unsteady, you clarify, "Did you mean it? You want to court me?"

"I do not say things I do not mean." His eyes bore into you. Diego pinches your chin gently, "I believe you can appreciate that philosophy."

Your eyes slip away as you swallow nervously. "But, you would consider me still married, would you not?"

The soft chuckle catches you unawares, "You are not Catholic. Why would the rules of the church matter to you?" The question is rhetorical, but you have an answer.

"But you are." Turning back, you blink with the burn of tears. This is it, you think, He will agree and then toss you like the trash you are.

"Little girl. I can assure you, the church has written me off as unsalvagable long ago. I ceased adhering to their silly rules well before that. This is a different country with different laws. In fact, the church would not even recognize your marriage as it was done outside the bonds of Catholicism. You worry needlessly." It is obvious that he means to be comforting despite his flippant tone. He has put some thought into this topic.

"Well, in that case." Tracing a thumb over his lower lip, you lean down for a kiss. Diego attacks your mouth ferociously, all teeth and tongue and leveling maelstrom. All you can do is allow the storm to roll over you.

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

It never does stop raining. In fact, lightning and thunder come in off of the ocean. The two of you have to make a mad dash for the main house. His sister intercepts him in the courtyard to yell at him in Spanish until she sees you hovering just inside the shelter of the roof.

"Oh!" She gestures to you in frustration. "I see what you have been doing! Truly, Diego? I mean, look at her!" The dismissive tone hits you like a slap in the face. Locking your jaw, you step forward only to be blocked by Diego’s broad back.

"Do not! She is under my protection!" He roars. His sister steps back in shock. She peers around his bulk to look at you, then back to him.

"Your protection? What does that even mean?" She sounds flabbergasted and insulted by the feeling, at that.

"She has accepted my offer of courtship. You will treat her with the respect that is due." He snarls.

Oh.

No one has ever come to your defense before. Gratitude closes your throat with warmth. She stomps off in frustration only to usher your father through the doorway.

"I knew you were here somewhere. Ah, were you still out in the stables when it began to rain?" Your father smiles fondly at your soggy appearance.

"Uh, yes. Unfortunately." You clear your throat and glance to Diego. His lazy smirk is of no assistance.

"Come. You should get out of those wet clothes." His offer is sweet, but you can hear the unspoken '... And into my bed'.

His sister returns with a towel and a steaming mug of tea. She assesses you with a critical eye before announcing, "We have guest rooms. I would not send you home in this."

You are unsure if she means the storm or your attire; either way, you follow her through the house. She leads you to a spacious bedroom complete with a sleigh bed and water closet. It is pure luxury. She pauses at the door to sniff before leaving you, "Diego's rooms are directly across the hall. I will put your father in the other wing. I know how loud my brother can be."

The sound of the door closing behind her is deafening.

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

You wash up, but have nothing clean to wear. Additionally, your seat is throbbing. Touching yourself to bathe was excruciating with actual pain and such intense memory that you are exhausted when you slide under the covers nude. Your only good dress is in a ruined heap on the floor. Just as you should be, a lowly tramp.

A knock sounds and the door opens before you can respond. The source of all your woes strides in confidently and proffers a black garment. Not knowing what else to do, you take it wordlessly while clutching the sheet tight to your chest. It is a shirt, one of his shirts if the scent is any indication, and you assume you are to wear it.

Only he is not leaving.

Diego watches you with hungry eyes, waiting for the sheet to drop and reveal your naked body. An absolute cad.

"Is there any chance at all that I could at least have the illusion of privacy?" You ask dryly.

"Fine." He huffs and spins in place. Then stands there, waiting. Resigned, you whip the large shirt over your head as quickly as possible, then pull the sheet back up over your legs. The shirt tails fall just lower than your buttocks, you suppose everything important is covered.

"All right, I am dece--" He is climbing into the bed with you. Oh my. You squeak quietly, "What are you doing?!?"

Lying down next to you on top of the covers, he smiles at you and holds the arm closest to you wide open in invitation. He is well aware of how good he looks. How tempting.

"Come. You must be cold." It isn't exactly an order, but it is firmer than a request. It is the tone of a man used to issuing commands and never doubting that they will be obeyed. Oh, what the hell, he was inside me not less than two hours ago.

You crawl over the silky sheets and let him tuck you into his side. You are at a loss as to what to do with your hands.

"This, too, is a first for me." You admit haltingly.

"Was your husband demented?" The matter-of-fact tone sends you into a fit. You bury your face in his side to muffle your tired laughter. "Why do you do that?" Diego asks softly.

"Do, oh goodness, do what?" You chortle softly then compose yourself as best you can with no pants.

"Hide your mirth. Cover your laugh. Turn away when you smile." He is looking down at you in serious consternation. And awaiting an answer.

"It is considered rude for a woman to be loud with any emotion where I am from." The quiet explanation only serves to confuse him more.

"That seems tiring. You most definitely have feelings. Why are you forbidden to express them?" It is such a foreign concept to him, he is puzzled. You lay a hand on his chest cautiously. He does not flinch.

"I cannot say. I know that my mother raised her girls to be subdued and accommodating. I, of course, was a failure. My laugh is too loud, my voice too strong, my desires too ambitious. My own grandparents were shocked when I was married off. They assumed no man would tolerate me." I wish that man had ceased tolerating me sooner.

The hand on your back circles idly. It is lulling you to sleep.

"I forbid you to hide from me." He declares in complete seriousness. You are too tired to bother arguing.

"Fine. May you live to regret it." The last thing you know is his scent filling you to bursting.

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

You wake up on your back. Odd.

Your legs are spread. Very odd.

Luscious wet heat is washing over your aching center in waves. Oh no.

You come to full awareness in a panic. There, between your spread legs in the growing sunlight, is Diego's head, nodding rhythmically as he licks you.

Frozen in shock, you can only watch for a timeless moment as he laves over your womanhood leisurely. Long, decadent laps from bottom to top and then over again. You feel wetness dripping down between your cheeks, there is a sticky puddle under your behind. How long has he been down there?

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" You shriek. Lurching upward, you hit the headboard. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, strong as cable, and you fully understand your predicament. You are trapped.

"Mmmm. Is it not obvious?" The vibration of his rocky voice on your most sensitive parts is going to make you swoon. He resumes enjoying you noisily while you flail about uselessly. The sounds are obscene and offensive, you can feel yourself growing wetter. He moans appreciatively, "Yes, little girl. Soak my beard with your arousal."

You tremble in excitement and fear. If you are caught with him in here like this…

"Come for me and I will fill this pretty little cunt." He rumbles on, poking his tongue inside your entrance then gliding upward to stimulate your little nub of pleasure. You are going to, you can feel it building inexorably. There is no escape from his soft tongue, scratchy beard, and burning hands.

Your hands dig in the bedclothes as you keep in mind his decree. It is a struggle not to cover your mouth, but you are rather distracted. Your back arches steadily higher and you sink down onto his face. He moans happily and applies more pressure yet.

"Oh, oh my, you. You are. What is. I, I, please, oh please, do not stop." Almost. You are teetering on the edge of insanity when he pulls back. Nononononononono!

"Come for me, niñita. Come for Father." He attacks the bundle of nerves and you shriek as your body seizes. The contractions of ecstasy blind you momentarily while you sob blissfully. Your core clenches tight, shutting down your worrisome brain. He never ceases his licking, drawing it out until your legs twitch spastically and you push at his head weakly.

He sits up and licks his lips ostentatiously. It is a show for your bleary gaze. You notice his shirt is gone. The wide expanse of his body is bare to you for the first time. Oh. OH.

His shoulders and chest are well defined, muscles bunching and rippling on that broad frame. His torso is solid, his hips lightly cut out from his belly, and that thatch of hair begins at navel. You have never seen such a perfect specimen of malehood.

You must be gawking because he preens happily, puffing up under your favorable assessment. Surely he knows how he looks? His beard glistens in the warm light and you whimper.

"Now, roll over." Excuse me? His eyes crinkle in amusement at your confusion.

"What?" You blurt. Very sophisticated.

Big hands land on your hips and he urges you to turn to your left. Memories of every other time he has positioned you and the subsequent pleasure make you follow his lead. Flat on your belly, the borrowed shirt pushed high up your back, you squirm under him.

"What are you doing?" The question is quiet, but fearful. He strokes up your back firmly and you melt under his touch. His hands span your entire back and you rather like the feeling of being covered in him. He moves down your back to grip great handfuls of your rear. You squeak, but it feels so very good after the saddle yesterday. He growls approvingly as you arch into his touch.

"Yes, raise your hips to me. Now spread, there you go, relax here, there. Perfect." He manipulates your body to his liking until your hips are high in the air, your back sunk low, and your shoulders remaining on the bed. The narrow pelvis nestles up to your buttocks as his knees land between your own. A draft flits over your center and you suddenly comprehend what he intends to do. He is going to take you from behind, like an animal.

Are you insulted? I will reserve judgment until he finishes, no need to be hasty. You chastise your own impatience. Have you no shame?

He certainly does not.

"You are trying to be so good for me. Wicked little girl, dripping for my cock." He purrs above you, hands petting your derriere. You shake and squeeze hungrily. "I can see that." He moans.

Painfully embarrassed, you hide your face in the pillow without thought.

"Ah, ah! Bad girl!" He reprimands you roughly and slaps your right cheek. You yelp, he laughs lowly. Curving over your back, the heat radiating off of him is suffocating, he threads fingers into your hair and pulls until your head is tilted far back. He informs you ever so graciously, "I will help you behave."

"Oh, I, I am sorry, please." You babble, mindless with the pleasure of his hands on you.

"Yes, so repentant, I remember. You are very good at atonement, little girl. Now take this sacrament." He groans as he pushes into you. So thick, hot as fire, you twitch madly until the wide head is swallowed by your body. He does not stop, sinking into you for what feels like forever, until you feel the tickle of his hair. You worry he might come up your throat.

Rippling around him illuminates that you are stretched to the limit. He tugs your hair sharply and moans, "Are you taunting me purposefully?"

"I, no? Not, n-not taunting." You wheeze. He grinds deep and you see stars while your eyes are open. "Is that, it, not n-normal?"

He holds very still and demands quietly, "Do it again." You squeeze tight, he chokes above you, "You, Dios mios, you are doing that yourself?"

"I- yes? Sh-should I not be able to do, that?" Your question is baffled, Am I abnormal?

"Oh, little girl. Perfect, tight, wet, little, girl. Give yourself to me." He drapes his big body over you and turns your face to the side to receive a demanding kiss. He pulls back only to thrust home forcefully and you squawk into his mouth. The retreat makes you whine and clutch at him, when he slams forward you howl with how good it feels. Each thrust hits deep, it hurts and pleases you simultaneously, you cannot fathom what is happening. You clutch the pillow and sob happily.

Diego bucks into you at a breakneck pace, the bed creaks and you nod for more. You are stuffed full, unbelievably wet, and out of your mind with bliss. You want more, is that allowed?

"H-harder. Can you. Do more?" You stutter tentatively, afraid of offending him.

"Oh, yes, you sinful little creature. Take it, take it, take it." He growls in a rolling chant, snapping his hips harder. Your eyes roll back and you shudder through another climax, then a second, and a third, all one after another. You collapse limply, uncaring of his rough usage of you at this point. He bucks frantically, pumping deep to reach release.

"Oh, ahhhhh, yesss. Good girl. Good. Girl." He moans raggedly, filling you yet again. You did not realize men could do it so many times and so frequently. He pulls back and drops to the bed at your side. One large arm loops under your pelvis and he topples you over to crash against him. "Take a nap, little girl. You have earned it."

Your angry retort is cut off by a huge yawn. He strokes down your side endlessly, it does the trick and you drift off.

-----------

When you wake up again it is midmorning. You stretch happily in the sunlight, until your hips protest. Everything from navel to knee is sore. You sit up in a huff, wincing, only to realize that you are alone.

There is a plain skirt and very nice leather belt on the dresser, it is embroidered with a beaded pattern in green, yellow, and blue. The skirt is a little long, but you are rather short. Combined with his billowing shirt, you look like a child playing dress up. Your dress is gone, so this will have to do.

A servant leads you to the kitchens, she smiles broadly and points to your hair with a tiny voice, "Bonita."

"Thank you." You nod, unsure how to respond. Your father is at a large butcher block table, socializing easily with a young mother and her toddler despite the language barrier.

"Good morning. I apologize for sleeping so late, I must have been more tired than I realized." You announce your presence as casually as possible.

Diego's sister breezes into the room and announces that the carriage is ready whenever you are. The barb does not go unnoticed. You thank her sweetly for the hospitality as she herds you outside and sees you off as quickly as possible.

You wonder if Diego even knows you are leaving.

I still do not know why he pretended to be a priest.

#damnit diego #ok but this time its literal #starz power diego jimenez #diego imagine au 1 #maurice compte #zash writes #dick with side of feels #i would apologize but im not sorry #how dare you sir #anybody else remember the 90s tv zorro show?#because apparently i do

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sxfterhearts · 4 years

Text

22. [4:22 pm]

“That’s all for today, good job everyone on your midsemester exams, and don’t forget to submit your assignments by midnight on Saturday.” Loud rustles echoed around the room as impatient students began to pack up their things and leave. “See you next week, class.”

Even before you dismissed your tutorial class, nearly three-quarters of the room was already vacated. As the last few students got up and bid you goodbye, a few of them stayed back to ask you questions about the midsemester exam you just reviewed. Being an experienced tutor for this unit, you listened intently to every single one of their questions and worries, providing them with answers to the best of your knowledge. It was common for you to get held back for nearly fifteen to twenty minutes because the unit you tutored was known to be difficult yet essential for all students from your major. You remembered taking this unit yourself two years ago and all the grief it had caused you, hence you fully empathised with your students.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar blonde-haired boy leaning against a table and browsing casually on his phone as you placed all of the midsemester exams back into the cardboard box, along with your stationary and other tutorial material. He was the last student left. “Bambam,” you called the boy. “How can I help you?”

“What are you doing after this, Y/N?”

You tried your best to resist the strong urge to roll your eyes. Bambam had been over the moon when he found out that you, his former class president from high school, was assigned to tutor his class for the entire semester. Ever since high school, he had made countless futile attempts to get closer to you. Most girls back then would have been flattered by the vice president of the student council’s undivided attention – he was always trailing around you like a lost puppy, offering to help you with tasks that you were fully capable of handling, or leaving you small gifts like chocolate and miniature wooden figures from his Woodwork class.

Undeterred, you never caved to his advances, for many reasons. For one, the two of you were polar opposites. The only similarity that you shared was that you were both teachers’ pets who sat on the student council. Anything beyond that, such as your personalities (you were the studious, quiet type; he was popular, smart and sporty) and your interests (you loved escaping to the library and reading; he practically lived on the basketball courts) were miles apart. Secondly, you absolutely loathed all the attention he gave you. You disliked his grand gestures that quickly became the talk of the school. There was so much unnecessary gossip surrounding you due to Bambam’s actions and you hated it when people talked behind your back. Some girls even started sending you anonymous threats on social media for being the apple of Bambam’s eye and for rejecting his heart. It was just too much for you and you decided that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Things were much more different now, of course. Most people mature when they enter university and thankfully the students who used to harass you either studied elsewhere or lost interest in the situation completely. You had enjoyed your peace and quiet without him in your first year when Bambam had decided to take a gap year, but he had since returned from his worldly travels. You rarely came in contact with him in your second year as you had completed a year of studies abroad, but this year, by some twisted stroke of luck, you had been assigned as his tutor.

He was the same old Bambam, always so persistent, but a bit more mature in his approach. He would ask you the same question every other week, about your schedule, and whether you were free to ‘catch up’, but he knew how to stop and wish you a good day once you rejected him. You always gave him the same answer, a polite “No, thank you,”, before parting ways with him. That is, until last week.

It was the week of midsemester exams. Due to the exam timetable, the exam of the unit you tutored fell on a Monday, four days before the exam that you had to sit which was on the Friday. Normally, this would be an ideal timetable, however another one of the tutors came down with a serious case of the flu and the professor assigned you to mark her load of papers by Friday. By Wednesday afternoon, you were marking papers in an abandoned corner of the cafeteria, running on a lack of sleep and an astronomical amount of caffeine in your bloodstream. When Bambam walked up to you and sat across you, spouting his usual questions, you just lost it. “No! I have nearly two hundred papers to grade and a difficult exam to study for. No, I am not free, so leave me alone!” You yelled at him, nearly on the brink of tears.

Bambam was clearly taken aback by your outburst, of course. You were soft-spoken and demure, never one to raise your voice in a public place. He could see the resemblance between the woman before him, struggling to hold back the tears, and the girl he saw hiding in an abandoned classroom three years ago, bawling her eyes out as she crouched amongst a sea of books and papers. He remembered that you never really dealt with academic stress very well.

On the surface level, Bambam seemed the stereotypical rich boy on campus, shooting hoops with the boys every day while playing with a different girl every night. It wasn’t true, though. There’s more than meets the eye.

You learned that when he had respectfully asked whether he could stay with you, and if he could bring you somewhere to take your mind off things. Suddenly exhausted, you finally gave in to him, watching him tidy up your things and place them into your bag. You figured it was about time you took a break from this madness anyways. He led you towards the footpath by the riverside across the road from your university campus. The two of you walked in silence, with nothing but the sound of waves crashing against the bay filling your ears. He took you to the far side of the bay which you rarely frequented and sat on the bench facing the river. There were many more yachts docked nearby, their periodic swaying therapeutic to watch, and the occasional dog would pass by, wagging its tail in greeting. Being in nature was calming, and you felt yourself relax in his presence.

“Hello, earth to Y/N.” Bambam waved his palm in front of your face. “Are you alright? You spaced out there for a sec,”

You swung your backpack over your shoulder and picked up the heavy box filled with stacks of paper. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Did you miss my question? I asked you about your plans after class.” The blonde boy reminded, walking side by side as the two of you exited the tutorial room.

You were still somewhat shaken by the flashback you had. It left a deep impression on you, and casted Bambam in a completely different light. “Uh, yeah, sorry.” You readjusted the box in your hands. “I’m just dropping these off at the professor’s desk.”

“Wait, did you just give me a proper answer?” Bambam wondered aloud, clearly taken aback by your less-than-usual response. I’m making progress, he thought. “Can I come with? I was hoping you’d be free after that too, I wanted to take you out for a coffee.”

“Why?”

“Well, see, I wanted to talk to you about last week. You know, when-” He was interrupted by your soft wince as you readjusted the box once more. “Do you want me to carry it?”

You shook your head adamantly. “It’s not heavy.” You shot him a pointed look. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Bambam stifled a laughter at your determined expression. “Yeah, I have no doubt about that.” He quickly stole the box out of your arms and cut you off before you could protest. “You know, Y/N, you don’t have to act so strong all the time. Let others help you once in a while, no one will think any less of you for sharing your burden.”

“I-”

“Ah, Y/N!” Your professor exclaimed, stumbling upon you on his way to meet a colleague. “Are those the papers?”

You and Bambam bowed in greeting. “Yes, sir.” You answered, taking the box away and handing it to your professor. “One of the students had their marks calculated wrongly, I’ve already sent you an email with his student number and the new score. I’m really sorry for the mistake, sir, I promise-”

“That’s fantastic, Y/N. Always so efficient and meticulous. There’s really no need to be sorry! As humans, we are bound to make mistakes. What’s important is how we fix them and how learn from them. Thank you for your hard work, Y/N. You’ve done a good job.”

You turned your gaze downwards, slightly shy due to his kind words. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” You replied softly.

“And who is this young man, Y/N? Are you getting him to do all your dirty work? I saw him carrying the box earlier. It is heavy, though, if I do say so myself.” The professor extended his hand in a handshake, to which Bambam responded with a bright smile on his face.

“My name’s Bambam, sir. I’m doing your unit too, and Y/N is my tutor.”

The professor’s eyebrows quirked up in interest. “Oh? Is this something I should be worried about?”

“Sir, what does that mean?” You asked hurriedly.

He laughed boisterously in response, his half-moon glasses nearly falling off the tip of his nose as he did so. “I’m just joking, you two. Tell me, Bambam, how is it like being tutored by your girlfriend?”

“What-” You shrieked.

Bambam denied hastily. “Girlfriend? She’s not-”

“Sir, this is a misunderstanding, he’s not-” The two of you were gesturing and shaking your heads in unison, denying the professor’s words profusely.

“Ah, young love.” The professor readjusted his glasses as a knowing smile graced his lips. “Listen, son, I’ve known this young lady for two years now and I can assure you that she’s one of the good ones. Treat her well, she’s hard to find and hard to keep.”

Bambam flushed pink at his words. “You can say that again, sir.” His eyes met yours as he flashed you a bashful smile. Little did the professor know that he had been chasing you for the past six years, since the first day of high school.

(And little did you know that, indeed, opposites do attract. Seems like the blonde boy had a soft side that he kept hidden under that goofy exterior of his.)

(Of course, a few months down the road and a dozen coffee dates later, he would ask you to be his girlfriend.)

(And you agreed.)

#got7 #bambam #bambam fluff #got7 fluff #bambam fanfic #got7 fanfic #bambam scenarios #got7 scenarios #bambam drabble #got7 drabbles #bambam timestamp #got7 timestamps #bambam imagines #got7 imagines #bambam soft #got7 soft #got7 bambam #bambam soft hours

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 1 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

Summary: Welcome to the world of Galactica, one of New York’s most renowned fashion houses, ruled by the legendary Miss Fame. Follow Violet Chachki, Miss Fame’s talented assistant, as she navigates the colorful personalities and daily dramas of the cutthroat fashion world in order to prove herself as a designer.

Ego, romance, ambition, loyalty, and intrigue all collide in this epic of a story.

A/N: Hey so…have you ever wanted to read Galactica, but were totally intimidated by the astronomical word count? Well, you’re in luck! Because we’re going all the way back to the beginning, and slowly posting a re-edited, remastered, improved version now. (AO3 Link if that’s your jam.) And if you’re wondering “what is Galactica?” then boy are you in for a ride. 💫

***

“Mh-” Violet swallowed a sound of discomfort as she allowed her body to dump down in her chair.

If the door to her boss' office hadn’t been closed, Violet would never have dared to act so ungracefully, but it was closed and she was aching all over, her shoulder pounding with it’s oh so familiar pain. Violet carefully toed her heels off, her stocking clad feet touching the carpet, her painted toenails visible through the nylon material.

She had been running around Manhattan all day in yet another desperate chase to satisfy her boss’s every whim, racing against time to predict her every need before she even realized it was there.

Violet had known right from the start that working at Galactica would be hard, what she hadn’t expected was how hard it would actually be to work for Miss “The Brand” Fame herself.

Galactica was one of the most successful fashion houses in America, the company rising to stardom during the early 2000s, led with an iron fist by Miss Fame, her trusted right-hand woman Raja Amrull always by her side.

Miss Fame was a perfectionist in everything she did, Galactica known for their quality and attention to detail, the brand always amazing for bigger and better.

The company had one rule.

Perfection above all—and Violet would rather die than not live up to that.

Violet grabbed her personal phone from her drawer, using the moment of privacy to check her messages. There was only one, and Violet felt a red hot spike of anger and annoyance stab itself right into her stomach.

It was from her landlord, informing her of the fact that the electricity in her building was once again acting up, the tone of the text pretending that it wasn’t something that happened several times a month, her teeny tiny studio apartment barely more than a glorified closet.

There was nothing she could do about it, arguing with her landlord or trying to file a complaint getting her nowhere, so Violet took a deep breath, straightening her back.

“Keep it together, Chachki.” Violet grabbed her keyboard, her moment of rest over. She would look for another place to live, wanted to find a reliable place she could call home, but that was impossible in Manhattan on an assistant’s salary.

She could hear chatter come from the office, Fame’s melodic voice carrying through the door, the chatter occasionally interrupted by the baritone of her husband, Patrick.

Violet barely kept a groan back as she saw her mailbox. She had only left to deliver a reviewed sample to the in house tailoring department, but in the 35 minutes she had been gone, over 100 emails had ticked in. She quickly sorted them, her time under Fame’s firm hand almost making the job easy as she knew exactly what her boss wanted to see, and what she could consider nonsensical garbage.

Violet was exhausted, the time already past 6 pm, but if Fame was at the office, she was at the office.

It was part of the game, and Violet always played to win.

“Still here, pumpkin?”

Violet looked up from her computer, only to see someone watching her from the door.

“Hello, Pearl.”

Pearl smirked, her long beachy waves spilling down her back. She was wearing a black leather jacket, a white t-shirt tied into a knot to expose her midriff, and her long legs were clad in black skinny jeans, and Violet felt her heart skip a beat.

She didn’t look anything like the department head she was, Pearl in charge of all online content and written media that Galactica produced.

It was Pearl Liaison who had gotten her the job at Galactica, though Pearl swore she had only gotten her the interview, but Violet could recognize a favor when she saw it, and Pearl had definitely done her one.

They had met during Violet’s final year at Parsons School of Design. Pearl was writing a story for Galactica’s social media on the new crop of design students, and Violet was graduating top of her class. Pearl had sent her the article for review, and somehow they had continued emailing, a random twist of fate tying them together in a friendship that Violet treasured with her entire heart.

She was desperately searching her brain for a way to extend their conversation, the want for something, anything, to come out of her mouth that could catch and keep Pearl’s attention simply not showing up, when the other woman continued talking.

“Tell her I stopped by,” Pearl smirked, tilting her head towards Fame’s office, “If she ever finishes that budget meeting.” Pearl pushed herself away from the door with her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow…” Violet replied, but Pearl was already gone. She was just about to return the emails at hand when she heard a voice call out. It was one she’d recognize anywhere at any time.

“Violet!”

Violet froze in place, Fame’s voice coming from inside of her office.

Fame never called for her when she was with her husband unless something was seriously wrong, but Violet had no idea of what she could have possibly done. She clicked on her calendar, her heart hammering away in her chest, but there was nothing there, no sign of anything she might have missed. They had asked for coffee, hadn’t requested dinner. There was nothing on Violet’s desk to deliver and most of the department heads had already gone home for the day.

“Violet!”

The impatience was clear, and Violet knew she was out of time.

“Coming, Miss!”

Violet stood up and stepped into her shoes, smoothing down her dress and checking her makeup in her now black computer screen before she grabbed her notebook and made her way into the lion’s den.

***

“There you are.” Fame heard the click on the door, her assistant finally responding to her call. “How many times do I have to scream your name?”

Fame was sitting on the small couch in her office, the coffee table filled with the budget proposals for the upcoming NYC Fashion Week show. Patrick was sitting at her side, their knees touching.

Fame didn’t actually need him there, the days of Patrick helping her and Raja with the day to day Galactica budgets long behind them. Nowadays, he ran a law firm on the 19th floor, only involved in Galactica matters as a legal consultant. But even though he was no longer their acting CFO, Fame liked having him with her when she dealt with financial matters, since she liked to go into meetings with her new CFO as well-prepared as possible.

She valued his opinion, enjoyed her husband’s direct, no-nonsense perspective regarding her company’s finances, even when she ignored most of it.

“Sorry, Miss.”

Fame took a proper look at Violet. Her back was perfectly straight, her light pink lips set in a thin line, her brows furrowed in a serious expression over watchful brown eyes.

Violet was always beyond attentive, and that combined with her impeccable dress sense was one of the things Fame liked the most about her. She never had to worry about Violet embarrassing her or the brand, even now, as Violet was standing there after a long day of work in her black Louboutins, the dress of the day hugging her slender body, black wavy hair spilling down her back, sharp bangs across her forehead, she looked good.

She had had many assistants over the years, her commands and demands driving weaker willed people away, but Violet had stuck to it, had worked through everything Fame had thrown at her.

“I need the expected showroom budget and staff needs for the influencer event...”

Violet jotted it down right away, elegant hands taking note of everything.

“Yes, miss.” Violet held still for a beat, waiting in place in case Fame needed anything else, but all she wanted was the budget.

She turned her attention back to her husband, Patrick looking up at her with a small smile, which reminded Fame of a conversation she had had with Raja over lunch earlier that same day.

“Actually-” Fame twisted her body. “How do you like it here at Galactica, Violet?”

Violet had frozen in place, her fingers around the door handle. She didn’t move, and Fame raised a brow, just about to tell her assistant to please pay attention for the love of god, when her husband chimed in.

“You’ve been with the company for almost a year now, haven’t you?”

“Yes Miss, umh, sir-” Violet turned around, and if Fame didn’t know her so well, she wouldn’t have noticed that her fingers were clutching her notebook. “I love it here.”

Patrick smiled, clearly pleased with himself, and Fame loved him for his attempted rescue of Violet, how he always showed compassion for everyone around him, but she couldn’t help but want to needle Violet one last time before she delivered the news that was on her mind.

“I’ve noticed.” Fame kept her tone light, keeping Violet on unstable ground. “Others have too.”

Violet’s eyes widened, and Fame couldn’t figure out if the surprise on her face, the display of modesty, was fake or not. Violet had to know that she was doing a good job, didn’t she?

“You’re a Parsons graduate.” Fame folded her hands in her lap. “Correct?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“I’ve taken a look at your portfolio.” The thick leather-bound thing was lying on her desk, Pearl handing it to her right when Violet had been hired, but Fame hadn’t taken the time to actually open it until now. “I didn’t dislike what I saw-”

The set of Violet’s shoulders changed, pride radiating from her. Not disliking the portfolio was an understatement.

Her and Raja had flipped through it together, the pages taken up by photographs of what could only be fashion students wearing clothes that suited them wonderfully, sketches of intricate gowns tucked in with embroidery samples and pearl work worthy of an atelier employee.

It was absolutely stunning, and Fame had already made up her mind to file it away in her personal library in her townhouse.

“You have potential beyond your years.”

Fame could practically feel Patrick roll his eyes, her husband often finding her antics overly dramatic, but this was a serious moment, and Fame wanted to treat it as such.

“Raja and I had a discussion-” Fame smiled, “and we’d like to move you to design.”

Violet looked like she was about to faint, which was exactly why Fame had chosen to give her the news of her promotion like this. Fame loved playing the role of fairy godmother to the people who caught her interest almost as much as she loved crushing her enemies—but only almost.

“We’d have to hire a replacement for you.” Fame tapped her fingers on the table, pretending like the plan wasn’t something she had discussed in detail with Raja. “and I of course expect you to train your successor before you can leave. You know how much I despise incompetence-”

Violet nodded, the grave seriousness on her face almost making Fame feel giddy.

“So-” Fame crossed her legs. “What do you think of my little proposal?”

“That it would be very acceptable.”

“Good.” Fame swallowed a laugh. “That’s all.”

Violet turned on her heel, the only thing betraying her emotions the slight slam of the door as Violet closed it behind her. She picked up the budget, ready to get back to work when she was interrupted.

“So that was quite the little play.” Patrick was looking at her, a smile in his blue eyes. “I’m shocked, my darling.”

“Why?” Fame bit her lip, a moment of uncertainty breaking through her armor. “Do you disagree with my decision?” Patrick didn’t have anything to say, hiring and how she managed her workers entirely up to her, but there was something in Patrick’s face she didn’t quite recognize.

“Oh no, not at all.” Patrick put his hand on her knee, his fingers bunching up the ivory white silk of her skirt. “I simply assumed that you wouldn’t have let someone like little Miss Chachki go without having your fun with her.”

“Really Patrick,” Fame scoffed, pretending to be offended for a minute by her husband's suggestion, but they both knew there was a truth to his words, Fame rarely passing a gorgeous woman up, but she had never felt the spark with Violet, and she wasn’t going to start now. “We’re here for the budget.”

“Of course my love.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #lesbian au #fashion au #group fic #pearlet #violet chachki #miss fame #pearl liaison

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akechicrimes · 4 years

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175?

175. “Star gazing. That’s your thing? Seriously?”

yusuke and goro visit the planetarium and the whole thing goes about as weird as you’d expect.

set during sae’s casino. i dont know why they’re on a planetarium date so you can pick ur own headcanon for that lmfao

“Of course I love stargazing,” says Yusuke, in that irritating tone of voice he uses when he seems to effortlessly and flawlessly imply that perfectly normal questions are ridiculous. “They’re quite beautiful, aren’t they?”

“I suppose beauty would be of great value to an artist,” says Goro with cautious pleasantness.

“Beauty holds great value to a human soul. All of the wonders of the universe are between the gaze of a viewer and the beauty of starlight.”

“Oh. How fascinating,” says Goro politely, and then leans back in his planetarium chair and wonders if he can smuggle himself out a bathroom window and tell Yusuke that he fell suddenly ill as an escape plan.

Akira, the one and only person that Goro might deign to respect on this asshole of an earth, seems to adore his group of idiot friends, and especially seems to adore the idiot friend named Yusuke Kitagawa. Which, granted, was perhaps an uncharitable estimation—Kitagawa got top marks at Kosei and was already making a name for himself in the art world, so he couldn’t be quite that stupid. Probably.

Hopefully.

Goro checks his watch again. He’d signed up willingly for a whole forty-minute planetarium show that began in five minutes in the hopes of unearthing the mysteries of Akira’s taste in—Akira’s taste in friends, and now it’s looking like that was a forty-minute investment too long. Akira will just be inscrutable as always, and Yusuke will turn out to be not much else interesting beyond his ability to summon a Persona. Goro could be doing homework right now, instead of watching fake lights on a projector. He could be answering emails. He could be scoping out the interior of Sae’s casino again…

“In truth, I’m surprised you agreed to come with me,” says Yusuke suddenly. (What’s that supposed to mean?) “But I’m glad for the company.” (What’s that supposed to mean?) “I come often, but usually alone. Are you, perhaps, a fan of stars yourself?”

“I haven’t thought much about the topic,” says Goro, instead of I took an astrology quiz once and didn’t appreciate that it called me a two-faced bitch. “Call me curious about the practice of looking at a light show of simulated stars within a building. If you appreciate stargazing so much, wouldn’t it be better to actually go out and see real stars with your own eyes?”

The obvious answer is because of Tokyo’s light pollution, which blots out any sort of astronomical endeavor whatsoever. The other obvious answer is that the planetarium specializes in showing all sorts of star formations at all times of the year, enabling one to experience the constellations of December in the middle of July.

Instead, Yusuke says, “Why should I do such a thing? Are the real stars worth anything more than the stars in the planetarium?”

Oh? Perhaps this adventure will be enjoyable after all. Goro’s always loved a good debate, or--if he can swing it--a proper argument. “Most people would say that the real version is more valuable,” he replies.

“The real version is quite ugly,” says Yusuke matter-of-factly.

Goro narrows his eyes. “The true form of things tend to be quite ugly.”

“Nonsense. All things are beautiful.”

Goro sits in his chair and stares at the dimmed pre-show lights, and then says: “Excuse me?”

“All things are beautiful,” says Yusuke again, like the logic between these two statements should be patently obvious to Goro.

Goro waits a long moment to see if Yusuke is joking. He isn’t, evidently. “Please explain to me, then, how these two statements exist without conflict with each other.”

Yusuke makes a face. “Conflict?”

“Illogicality. Irrationality. Discrepancy. Dissonance.”

Yusuke is giving him a look like he wishes Goro would translate his perfectly-good words into something that makes sense for him. Goro has the increasing sensation that they’re having two entirely different conversations. “Most things that are false represent the truth of things better than the truth can represent itself,” says Yusuke, like this sentence makes any fucking sense at all. “Ah, forgive me. Perhaps a mind so thoroughly wedded to uncover truth from mystery, rather than the creation of truth, cannot comprehend.”

Comprehend? Like Goro’s an annoying little freshman in a senior seminar who doesn’t know what he’s talking about? Oh, does Kitagawa want to fucking bet? Is this how it’s going to be? “Try me,” says Goro. “I can be a quick study.”

Yusuke seems rather satisfied by the answer, oddly. “Indeed, I’ve heard from Akira precisely so.” (Wait, Akira talks to Yusuke about Goro? What about? What did he say? He talks about Goro to other people?) “Say that an artist paints an apple,” Yusuke goes on, without any regard whatsoever for Goro’s increasingly Akira-related questions. “The painting is redder than a real apple, rounder, shinier, more delicious. It is more true to what that apple is to me than a real apple. Or, perhaps, say an artist paints an apple, and it is duller, smaller, more shriveled, and joyless. This, too, might be more true to how the apple is to me than the real apple.”

“So you make a distinction between accuracy and ‘truth’.”

“Certainly. These stars along the inside of this building, for example, are the product of the love of all the scientists and students and projectionists and curators who built and maintain and run this planetarium. They are accurate, but also not—they do not reflect the stars precisely as they are in position to this minute and day, but a vast range of different positions. They are accurately replicated to the point of more beauty. This is what those stars are to them. And that’s what the stars are to me.”

“Oh,” says Goro, with a short laugh. “How naive of you, Kitagawa-kun.”

Yusuke sits up so sharply that the woman next to him jolts. “Excuse you?”

“I don’t mean anything bad by it. It’s rather charming of you,” says Goro with a smile that even he knows is cute. (One of these days, Goro’s going to make a whole Instagram dedicated to every moment he’s smiled cutely on live TV for the sole purpose of irritating someone.) “Beauty is not always a reflection of some higher truth. People use beauty all the time to cover up the unsavory parts of themselves, you know.” Goro glances around to make sure nobody’s looking, then leans in, as if to share a friendly secret: “If you continue with a belief like that, someone with a pretty face and an ugly heart might come along and take advantage of you.”

“Hardly so,” says Yusuke with a sniff. “I’m well aware how disgusting the hearts of certain persons can be, thank you.”

“Oh? Not as naive as you like to pretend?” (Madarame’s palace had been quite a spectacle, that’s for sure. If Kitagawa had seen it, then…)

“I have never said that ugliness does not exist, Akechi-san. I have already said that the real thing does tend to be quite ugly.” Yusuke seems, if anything, rather frustrated--but not with Goro, and it feels less like Goro is winning an argument and more like Yusuke is losing a struggle to explain himself. “I am an artist, not a philosopher. What I know is that the planetarium stars are worth far more than the stars outside, and far more beautiful, besides. Because they’ve been recreated so. They are beautiful because they are not true. Does that not make sense?”

Absolutely not. “You cannot just pick and choose the realities you like. Truth and beauty are not just a thing you can create out of ugly, rotten dirt.”

“Then we must agree to disagree,” says Yusuke coldly, and turns away and speaks not a word until the show begins.

They watch the planetarium show in frigid silence. For whatever it’s worth, the stars do look, in fact, frighteningly real.

After the show, they stand with the rest of the crowd and make their way to the front, where they blink in the dim light of the sunset. Yusuke sighs, and turns back to him. “I spoke too harshly,” he says straightforwardly. “Perhaps the fault is mine, as I’ve never quite been good enough to express my thoughts in words, rather than images.”

“It’s quite alright,” says Goro, as if Goro hadn’t sat there for forty minutes alternatively screaming about what might happen if Yusuke went crying to Akira about Goro bullying him over lights in the sky and wondering if Goro could get away with pushing Yusuke directly into as many fire-based spells in the Metaverse the next time they went. “I did… enjoy… the planetarium show.”

Yusuke looks brighter at that, and then dims again. “Well. I’m glad. But I had hoped that perhaps someone as beautiful as yourself would understand what I meant.” And then he checks his phone, and: “Ah, I do need to rush to catch my train. Although this date was a disaster, perhaps the next one won’t be. Hopefully we can meet again.”

“Of course,” says Goro on reflex, and barely manages to wave goodbye as Yusuke gives him a quick smile, hikes up his bag, and jogs in the direction of the station.

Goro lowers his hand. Replays the last half of that conversation.

Wait a fucking minute.

#mine #i was like 'i will make my OWN yusugoro agenda' and then it got really weird #Anonymous

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