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ncssian · 3 years

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A Favor: Part Twenty-Three

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: so yeah this isn’t my best work bc i havent been feeling great lately but i hope you guys can stay patient with me until i get my shit together. we’re almost to the end🤞

***

Sitting crammed between Elain and Feyre on the gray couch in Lana’s office, Nesta has to cross her legs prettily and pretend she doesn’t want to peel out of her skin right there. She doesn’t know what she was thinking when she invited her sisters to one of her therapy sessions, but she’s assuming it would be considered rude to kick them out now.

“Who wants to speak first?” Lana’s bob swings as she looks at each of them. The office is ice cold today, and Feyre and Elain’s presence doesn’t help the chill in the air.

Nesta crosses her arms before she can be asked to speak. “No, thank you,” she says. She knows everyone probably expects better from her, but no way in hell is she going to be the first to open up in front of this crowd. “Feyre,” she turns to her youngest sister instead, “why don’t you say something?”

“Actually, why don’t you set the example, Nesta?” Lana gives her a look, making her cheeks redden with irritation.

“Fine,” Nesta grumbles. She clears her throat. “As you can see, I have made moves to reconnect with my sisters. I invited them here because I hoped that therapy would bring us closer and also make them more… tolerable.”

Elain coughs, “Bitch.”

Nesta smiles tightly. “Elain could especially use this, I think.”

Lana is already frowning. She never frowns this early into a session. “We’ll start with an easy question, then. What’s been on your mind lately, Nesta?”

Nesta purses her lips, pretending to think. “Nothing important. I’m looking at jobs for the summer. I think Azriel keeps sneaking money into my purse, and it’s starting to become more than a little condescending. I caught up with some friends from school, and I was polite enough to pay for lunch.” She mentions off to the side to Elain, “Lucien was there, too.”

“Why would I care?” Elain sneers. She spies Lana’s disapproving look and lowers her head demurely. “Sorry,” she murmurs.

“That’s alright,” Lana says. “Why don’t you go next?”

“Me?” Elain’s head snaps up, and Nesta holds in her snicker.

“Start by describing your relationship with Nesta. I heard you two used to be very close.” Lana uncaps her pen, preparing to write.

Elain flushes lightly and folds her hands. “That was when we were children. The only thing keeping us together was that we shared a home. When we stopped living in the same place, some of us had no problem leaving others in the dust.”

“You can use my name,” Nesta rolls her eyes, “I’m right here.”

From the corner of her vision, Feyre cringes.

“Are you saying you feel abandoned by Nesta?” Lana continues probing.

Elain’s answering silence tells more than enough. Therapy must actually be paying off, though, because Nesta only thinks about interrupting and defending herself for a second before shaking it off. Her mind focuses on the word abandonment instead.

Lana is focusing on the same thing, because she leans closer and says, “Being abandoned bothers you?”

“I never said that,” Elain says indignantly.

“It would bother most people.”

Nesta watches Elain sigh and blink her big doe eyes at Lana. She’s always been able to use those eyes on anybody for anything. “I just don’t understand why I’m the villain for expecting a little loyalty,” Elain says sweetly. “Especially when you take a look at this face.” She cups her round cheeks. “You know psychology. How could you abandon this face?”

Nesta’s jaw hangs open. “Are we still talking about me?” She remembers Cassian telling her the story behind Azriel ghosting Elain, and a pang of guilt and pity hits her. She still hasn’t talked with Elain about why Azriel left Velaris, and she knows she won’t be able to decide whether to spare Az or not until she does.

“So that’s my turn,” Elain finishes up. “Feyre can go next.”

Lana is writing something sharply on her notepad, but she nods coolly. “Feyre, how would you describe your relationship with your sisters?”

“Oh, we don’t have time for all of that,” Feyre laughs awkwardly and waves a hand.

Nesta agrees, but the look Lana gives Feyre tells her that yes, they do have time.

Gulping, Feyre glances around. “Well, I was born last, so I guess that made me the outsider of the family. I never had much in common with my sisters, but now that we’re older I… hoped that we would grow past that.”

Translation: she hoped that once she found her happy ending in Rhysand’s arms, poor little Nesta and Elain would happily assimilate into her new community of wealthy friends, putting the cherry on top of her perfect life. And while Elain did that exact thing, it’s always bothered Feyre that Nesta won’t do the same.

Feyre continues, “I admit I’m not the best at understanding Nesta. Elain and I get along fine now, but Nesta…” Feyre meets her eyes. “It’s like nothing we do is enough for her, but for some reason I can’t stop trying.”

“Whose fault is that?” Nesta mutters.

“You want her approval,” Lana hums, taking notes.

“Is that what it is?” Feyre looks away.

Nesta refrains from saying yes, that’s exactly what it is, and it’s not my problem if you keep looking for something I can’t give.

“What are your feelings about that, Nesta?” Lana turns her focus to her. “Remember that this is a safe space.”

It really isn’t, not with two siblings holding long term grudges against Nesta. But once and for all, she’s going to set the record straight. “I spent most of my life being a bad sister.” Nesta’s voice is apathetic, straightforward. “I let Feyre take the burden of providing for us even though I was the oldest, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than cruel to my family. So once I had the means to do so, I cut everyone off for all of our sakes. I still don’t regret it, because being a stranger is better than being a bad sister.”

In that way, Nesta is a bit like her mother. Nesta was angry after her death, but she knows she would have been even angrier if Magdalene Archeron had lived and continued to be a disappointing parent. In that way, both of them are wise for leaving their families when they did.

“Or you could just be a good sister,” Elain interrupts with a drawl.

Nesta smirks bitterly at her. “I’d rather die.”

Feyre takes in a breath. “Why? Why are you like that with us?” She blinks furiously, and Nesta can see the simmer of her emotions. “It was okay when we thought you hated everybody, but you don’t. You only hate me and Elain.”

Nesta looks to Lana for help, but her therapist is sitting this one out. She sighs through her nose. “I don’t hate you,” she says, even though they might never understand. The next line comes with great difficulty. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what love was. But I don’t like you very much, Feyre, and you don’t like me, either. Please stop trying to change that.”

When she finally meets Feyre’s eyes, though, they’re glimmering with tears. “How can I stop trying to change that?” Feyre whispers. “How can I give up on us like that?”

For Nesta to give Feyre and Elain the relationship they want from her would require nothing but lies on her part. And as much as she wishes she was capable of lying about this, she can’t do it.

Looking away and down at her hands, Nesta mutters, “It’s not fun for me either, but it’s how I am. I can’t be easy or friendly with you. I hate watching you try to make me be easy or friendly.”

Nobody says anything to that, but when Nesta looks up again Lana gives her a remote nod that Feyre and Elain don’t catch. Thank you for your vulnerability, it says.

“You said something interesting, Nesta,” Lana breaks the silence. “Did you see your sisters as your responsibility to raise?”

Nesta shrugs. “I was the oldest,” she repeats.

“Your father was the oldest.”

“He wouldn’t do shit even if you held a gun to his head, so I was up next.” Though Nesta hadn’t done shit either. Neither had Elain, but the rules have always been different for her. Elain redeems herself to others by handing out sunny smiles and pretending to have the intelligence of a fawn.

Lana stares at Nesta until Nesta’s skin starts to heat. “What?” she says defensively.

Ignoring the other two women in the room, Lana leans forward. “You told me once early into our relationship that part of the reason you left Tennessee was to get away from your sisters. You said you were heartbroken when they ended up following you here.”

Nesta doesn’t breathe or look to see her sisters’ reactions.

“Now I’m going to ask: did you really want to get away from your sisters, or did you want to escape the feeling of failing them?”

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer, because to her they might as well be the same thing. Having Feyre and Elain around is like having a weight tied to her chest. The lingering guilt every time Feyre is in a room, her existence screaming I’m the reason you’re still alive. Elain’s constant expectations of unconditional support and loyalty, whether it’s reciprocated or not. It’s all so heavy. And it all goes back to the fact that the three of them were once just helpless children.

If she couldn’t take care of her sisters, how is she supposed to take care of any child, ever?

Nesta releases a weary sigh. “You’re going to bring this up the next time we have the baby talk, aren’t you?”

Lana’s eyes sparkle. “Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet.” But Nesta can see from where she sits that her therapist’s notepad is covered in bullet points.

***

“I need to use the bathroom.” Feyre is hopping back and forth on her feet once the session is over. “You guys head down to the parking lot without me.” She exits in a rush, leaving the two sisters alone. Nesta hisses in frustration, nearly chasing after Feyre so she won’t have to face the inevitable awkward conversation with Elain.

By the end of the session, it was Elain that broke and pleaded with Nesta, “Don’t do everything we want, then. Just keep doing better, the way you’ve already been doing. I’ll be happy with just that.”

Nesta was surprised that Elain had even noticed her efforts, but she retorted, “And how do you plan to do better?”

To which Elain twirled her hair and murmured something halfheartedly about, “I might be more open to taking criticism or whatever.”

Though it was the absolute bare minimum, it was still a relief for Nesta to hear Elain admit that she has flaws worth criticizing.

Now, Nesta clutches the straps of her purse and turns for the stairwell leading to the parking lot. Elain follows without comment.

Inside the stairwell, Nesta asks, “Have you spoken to Azriel since he left Velaris?”

Elain looks surprised at the sudden question, and doesn’t remember to be guarded when she answers, “No. Why?”

Nesta shrugs, her heels thumping loudly on the linoleum stairs. “Because I know what happened between you two. I know why he left.”

Elain halts midstep, grabbing Nesta’s arm and turning to face her with wide eyes. “What do you mean, you know? He told you?”

“He told Cassian, and Cassian told me.” Nesta hardly cares that she’s being a poor friend to Azriel by spilling all this to Elain, and continues, “If I had known he was such a coward, I would have kicked him out of our place a long time ago… but I figured I would get your input on it first.”

She’s never seen Elain look so genuinely pleading before. “Get my input on what?” Elain breathes. “What did he say about me? Was it something I did?”

At that torn face that borders on heartbroken, Nesta decides that she’ll do more than kick Azriel out of the cabin. She’ll kick him off the whole mountain.

She shoves Elain’s back to get Elain detached from her and moving down the stairs again, and as they walk, Nesta spills everything she knows. She tells Elain about Rhysand’s talent of shoving his nose into places it doesn’t belong, and how one conversation with him managed to convince Azriel to ditch Elain for good. She tells her about how instead of having a straightforward conversation with Elain, Azriel chose to leave the city and hide out in the mountains like a pussy. She might sound blunt, but Elain needs blunt. She needs to know the unfiltered truth of things.

By the time they reach the floor where their cars are parked, Elain is silent. “Did he really say that?” she finally asks quietly. “He said he wants me to hate him?”

“That’s what I heard.” After a moment, Nesta feels the need to add, “You should hate him, though. He fucked up bad.”

When Elain continues strolling for their cars without replying, concern bites at Nesta. “You are mad at him, right? And mad at Rhysand? You’re not going to forgive them, right?”

“I’m not a total pushover,” Elain snaps. She stares at the cement ground as they walk. “I’m just… more disappointed than anything else. He gave up so easily.” She chuckles without humor. “It sounds like he was looking for an excuse to get away from me.”

Nesta frowns. “I don’t think he would’ve spent so long moping around our house if he wanted to leave you.” Though they can never truly know what Azriel was thinking or feeling until he grows a pair and talks to Elain. Still, she shudders at having to defend him.

“I take it he doesn’t mope anymore?” Elain says.

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer that truthfully. She knows there’s more to Azriel than he lets her and Cassian see, and she knows he’s gotten better at keeping his feelings to himself. So she says, “It looks like he’s doing better, but I really don’t know.” They reach Elain’s car.

“Were you in love with him?” Nesta suddenly asks. Or worse, is she still in love with him?

Elain digs around for her keys in her purse. “You know how I am. Of course I was.”

“Not anymore, though?”

Elain looks up, keys now in hand. “It’s hard to still feel love for someone I haven’t talked to in two months.”

Then it wasn’t real love. Nesta is relieved, even though it doesn’t change the fact that Elain is hurting either way.

Elain jabs her keys at Nesta and says sharply, “Don’t you dare punish him for what he did. That’s for me to decide on.”

Nesta’s brow creases in refusal. “I’ll do what I need to do, and you do you.” She’ll have to be careful with her plotting, though, considering Azriel is Cassian’s brother.

“No.” Elain surprises Nesta with the force in her tone. “He’s your roommate and your friend. Keep treating him like it.”

Elain makes it sound easier than it is, and Nesta wants to argue until she sees Feyre heading down the parking lot toward them. “Fine,” she grumbles halfheartedly.

Elain gives her one final long look, not of threat but something else. “Thank you—for inviting us today.” That’s all she says before getting in the driver’s seat of her little red car. At the same time, Feyre catches up to them.

“Where are you parked?” Feyre pants as she approaches Nesta. She sounds a bit out of breath, like she ran to get here before Nesta could drive off alone.

Nesta points down the lot to where her scrappy old car is waiting for her, and Feyre straightens up with a grim smile. “I’ll walk you.”

Nesta knows that arguing isn’t worth it, so she allows Feyre to trail her the rest of the way to her car. Once they reach the old thing, Nesta gives a curt goodbye and heads straight for the driver’s door. Before she can touch the handle, Feyre attacks her from behind with a hug.

“Get off me, freak!” Nesta tries to jostle her way out of Feyre’s arms. She tries being nice to her sisters one time and this is what she gets—

Feyre only squeezes her tighter. “You don’t have to hug back. Just let me love you my way.”

Nesta squirms for another second before stilling. Swallowing tightly, she stares at the reflection of herself and Feyre in the car door window. One of her hands goes to where Feyre’s hands are clasped around her stomach, and she stands there without moving. She can’t remember the last time she shared affection with a family member like this, but it must have been before their mother died.

The warmth at Nesta’s back doesn’t leave, like Feyre is trying to pour all her understanding into the hug. Silently saying, I’m finally starting to get it.

In a way, Nesta is starting to get it, too. After all, how do sisters with such a complicated history begin to forgive each other?

Not by apologizing, but by doing better in the future.

***

On her way home, Nesta remembers at the last minute to stop by Gwyn’s apartment to pick up one of her sweaters. She doesn’t know when Gwyn started raiding her closet like it was a free mall, but she has a school event next week and doesn’t plan on letting her nicest clothes rot at Gwyn’s forever.

Nesta enters using the key beneath the doormat, knowing Gwyn is at work and won’t mind her stopping by. She scans the living and dining areas for a glimpse of brown cashmere, but only finds scattered books and a disorganized mess. Her fingers twitch with the urge to stop and tidy up the place, but she continues hunting for the sweater. Gwyn promised it would be waiting in plain sight for her.

Realizing the scatter-brained girl probably forgot to put the sweater out for her, Nesta pauses in the hallway leading to Gwyn’s bedroom and bites her lip. She doesn’t know if bedrooms are off limits or not, considering how often Gwyn and Emerie have barged into hers, but she knows she doesn’t want to make a second trip here just for a sweater.

Without giving it further thought, she strides into Gwyn’s room—

And yelps to find Gwyn on the bed.

Except she isn’t alone, and there’s definitely another body under the dark green blanket with her, and whoever it is definitely has their head between her legs.

Nesta spins away at the same time she hears Gwyn’s cry of surprise. She braces one hand against the doorjamb and presses the other to her freezing cold face, not having any words for what she just saw.

“Nesta?” Gwyn calls from behind her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Um, have you seen my sweater? It’s the expensive one.” She’ll just grab it and leave. Or maybe she’ll just leave—yes, that sounds like a good idea.

“Nesta?” a new, deeper voice repeats.

Gwyn hisses, and Nesta freezes because she recognizes that voice. She wants to be wrong so badly, but she has to whirl back around to confirm for herself.

“Azriel?”

***

a/n: i decided to cut this chapter short and add an extra one to flesh out my silly little gwynriel subplot. so if there’s anything specific or random you wanna see happen in the next chapter tell me bc i might have space for prompts!!

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea

#ncssianwrites #a favor #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

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riverdale-retread · 3 years

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Riverdale S5E9 Destroyer - 5 Things I Loved/ 3 Points to Consider

I loved -

1. Betty going ultra-rogue and raging out had me in ecstasy - not quite unadulterated, but no matter. I generally hate the ‘rogue-cop-had-to-do-it-cuz-system-failed’ type nonsense because, you know, it’s propaganda of the most insidious kind. BUT. The sheer terror that Betty Cooper, formerly the pink-sweatered doe-eyed teen dream girl, invokes in these men is so cathartic. Betty’s childhood acts of violence were always in defense of someone else - and now she’s just taken it a step further, of trying to do prophylactic justice rather than preventing immediate harm. Betty slamming that dude sneering that “these girls are ‘looking to trick’” right into his steering wheel WAS AMAZING. We’ve gone from bash-on-back-of-head to slam-head-down-break-nose as the go-to move. Her measured “Jug. Head?” when he calls at a key moment was hilarious, as was her cold hard, “Or I might not” about coming back for that guy she tied to the tree.

Sidebar: I feel like I don’t know Betty’s true size because she was most frequently seen with Jughead, whose height and heft fluctuated a lot due to plot demands, but I actually believe she’d be frightening. The set of her shoulders as she charges around looking for people to beat up is an astonishing change from how I think of her, the fairytale princess in the fluffy sparkly dress.

2. Cheryl Blossom performing Stupid Love in that amazing custom-tailored red jumpsuit with the glittering red strips down the sides - Oh My GOSH!!! I basically did everything she told me to do in the song - Freak Out/ Freak Out/ Freak Out/ Look At Me. And the mandatory Cheryl hair whoosh! Who says you need to show skin or wear heels to be blazing hot? Her commitment to performance is such that she dances up the stairs at the start of the song. If there had been a coach like this at any of the schools I went to, my physically incompetent ass would’ve thrown the mother of all tantrums to be given dance lessons, instead of um, being a bookworm in the library.

3. This is a two-for-one but Fangs and Jughead are currently being the world’s best ex-boyfriends and I want to give them each a big forehead kiss (and a bum squeeze, no not like that, just a little one, friendly-like). Fangs is so mature and so in love with Kevin, and he is much more calm than I could be given what Kevin has done to him. I want to know everything about you, the good and the bad, he says, looking so handsome and hurt. Bad Kevin! I believed in you! And of course the soft way that Jughead talks to Betty when she’s in distress, using his Let me help you sotto voce that he only ever uses with true intimates, always goes straight to my heart. There’s literally nobody that offers Betty any sort of comfort anywhere but for Jughead.

But. I did not feel any sexual tension or residual longing, not from this episode. It was more sibling energy. The tendon of RAGE that stands out on Betty’s neck as the old codger starts going on about Alien Fusion Reactors, while Jughead cringes like a younger brother who’s gonna GET IT when they get home or she tells mom, was very cute

4. I actually loved the We Scored a Single Point So Team Is Not Cancelled football match. I normally never get anything out of these games but this one worked for me. I loved Archie’s speech to his players. Specifically, his tone of voice. He’s so hot when he’s being someone’s big brother - this is the same tone of voice as him telling Joaquin, You have to hit me! Hit me, at the boxing match. There’s something about this delivery that just um, makes me tingle. And then him leaping with BOTH FEET off the ground when Britta scores that one touch down (is this right? i have no idea). Oh Archie can move. And speaking of Britta - the way her long braid whips around when she avoids getting tackled was fantastic! All the adults celebrating so hard because one thing went right! I wish we had more of that energy in actual children’s sports lol.

5. Reggie finally getting to show something of who he is as an adult. (What I remember most about him from previous seasons is I gotta matter Ronnie! and his single tear of heartbreak as he tells Archie how it is at home for him). Unsurprisingly, he’s much better at being an aggro asshole than Archie. He smiles and smiles while delivering terrible news (Your team is about to be cancelled!) and jaunty while dealing low blows to kids (Loser, Loser, Loser). And yet, he is not a heartless criminal of the stripe that Hiram is - I’m not gonna break some kid’s legs for no reason - and knows how to walk away from a Lodge when they ask too much of him. I can’t wait to see where they go next with him. He just gets handsomer every time I see him.

Things to Consider

a) Archie propositions Veronica - to give him motivation heh - while IN THE locker room which was previously full of his teenage students. OK so as Betty Cooper says Three is a Pattern and I’m calling it. The Riverdale High School building is Archie’s orientation.

b) Alice Cooper is mixing Zolpiderm (sleeping pills) with wine and that is very upsetting. She is at least not chugging the wine straight from the bottle which I hate in movies and tv.

c) Tabitha, Cheryl and Veronica starting to cooperate as the business-owner, maple syrup and pizzazz supplier, and big-scheme launcher is so exciting, and I kind of wish there was a spinoff with just these three women doing things, really. Like, it wouldn’t even be fanfic, because I don’t ship them, but just, these beautiful smart young women doing business together and THAT being the story would be so comforting and inspirational to me.

#I am down to one episode left of S5A and S5B begins Sep 9 where I am!#SO excited to see the new upcoming episodes #Riverdale positivity #riverdale season 5

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writingsfromstarfleet · 3 years

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Tom Paris - Not The Worst

♫ - This Heart I Know - Westward The Tide

For a lovely Anon, I hope you enjoy! Thank you all for reading! Hugs! ♡

The crew of Voyager was lovely. Every single crew member was a delight, and you had no problem getting on with any of them. Well, all except one, that is.

For whatever reason, that you failed to be able to put down in the beginning, you never truly could get on with Tom Paris. He was cocky, confident and overzealous, always having a certain charm about him, particularly when it came to women. That made your eyes roll. His attitude and overall aura made you cringe, and your brain told you that he needed knocking down a peg or two.

It wasn't for Tom trying, though. He did make attempts to talk to you, but he was talking to a very stubborn Starfleet officer indeed. You were adamant in your distaste of him, often choosing to leave and work when he would join you and Harry in the mess hall. Or if he entered a room you were in, you would slowly sneak out or dismiss yourself. Tom was not blind to such acts from you, and often he sat wondering just what he'd done wrong. He wanted nothing more than to see you smile at him, to greet him with a friendly hello, to actually stick around when he was there. Often he was at a loss as to how to approach you on such matters.

The captain was not blind to this, either; she was perceptive enough to see the tension between you both when you were in the same room. Janeway caught the narrow-eyed glances, she caught the biting remarks, and she smiled every single time. Your crewmates saw the tension between you, they saw every argument in the mess hall and every disagreement on shift. Your captain, however, saw through that. Janeway saw the opposite.

"Lieutenant Y/N, please report to my ready room."

Sighing, you acknowledged the voice of your captain, placing your current timewasting project down and dusting yourself off, standing and heading out the door of engineering. You were tired, all you wanted to do was sleep. You couldn't disobey your captain, though. Duties came first. As you walked, you wondered what she could want, certain you were not in trouble given you only ever went about your day and back to your quarters.

Reaching the captain's door, you took a breath in, suddenly nervous for what awaited you. As you stepped inside, your captain was indeed sat there, along with your personal nightmare incarnate.

"Hello, Y/N, please, have a seat." Janeway spoke, her usual soft smile present on her face as she gestured to the seat beside Tom.

"With all due respect, Captain, I'll stand." Your voice was taught, and you didn't catch Tom's eyebrow raise, shocked at your hostility. Saying nothing, he just sat there.

"Very well."

The meeting was in session for all of two minutes before you had left, information dealt to you that you could have lived without. Quite happily, for that matter. The absolute last thing you could imagine wanting to do was spend an away mission with Tom. Still, your captain called for it, so there was no room for argument; you held far too much respect for Janeway to argue such a decision. As you left her ready room, you were furiously walking to prepare yourself, ignoring the calls of concern from Harry, inquiring if you were alright.

Walking for what felt like hours, you arrived eventually at the doors of the shuttle bay. Sighing, you shook off your bad mood as the doors opened, revealing just one ensign tending to the electrics in the room. With a curt not, you acknowledged her and continued psyching yourself up almost for what was to come. Your wait for Tom to arrive had you thinking things over.

Why did you hate him so? Was he really as bad as you had convinced yourself he was? Sure, you didn't like his attitude towards women, nor did you like his overt cockiness when it came to certain things, but was this really justification for your behaviour?

Before you had a chance to think more into those matters, the noise of the doors opening pulled you from your thoughts. Tom swaggered in, a little less confidently than usual, and he almost looked nervous. Despite his sheepishness, you locked eyes with him and he gave you a small smile. A one-sided one off you made itself known, and no words were exchanged.

The ride down to the planets surface was a quiet one, a tense one, and it left a lingering feeling in the air that could only be described as awkward. There was nobody to distract either of yourselves with, nobody to change subjects, nothing else to keep your attentions away from each other. In this moment, neither of you knew what to do.

Things took their turn when the shuttle began to malfunction, communication to Voyager completely shut off. Panic arose in you, and in Tom, but your Starfleet training helped you both keep a cool head. Tom had tried his best to fix the issue, but having not known what said issue actually was, he was at a disadvantage. The shuttle eventually landed, albeit not as gracefully as one would expect from a pilot, but he had done his best and you were safe.

"We should find somewhere warm, this shuttle'll be far from that once the light dies down." Tom spoke, the first words shared since you had left the ship. You knew he was right, the metal of the shuttle, given the regulators weren't working, would only make for a very uncomfortable and cold night's sleep if you were stranded here for that long. Nodding, you followed him as he began to search for somewhere nearby to camp out. He reached a small cave under a rock face, and you dropped the bag down with supplies in it and crashed down against the wall.

"Tired?" he mused, attempting somewhat of a personable conversation with you. You chuckled, though offered no response vocally. "Why do you hate me, Y/N?"

At this, your head shot up at him, curious as to his blunt words.

"I mean," he started, taking a seat next to you. "Every time I try to talk to you, or hang out with you, you find an excuse not to be around me. I don't know what I did, but I apologise."

His voice sounded hurt almost, and you looked at him up close for the first time. He had the prettiest eyes, all different shades of blue quite like an ocean. You had always accepted the fact that Tom was a very good looking person, but seeing him this close only amplified such thoughts. You cast your eyes down to your hands, currently resting atop your lap, and shrugged.

"It's your attitude, Tom. I don't like how cocky you are, I don't like your overconfident act. I especially don't like the way you are with women, how you treat them."

Tom raised his eyebrows, though you hadn't seen, and thought sullenly on your words. They were harsh, but something he thought perhaps he needed to hear. He sat pensive for a few moments, and you had worried you may have offended him. His hands came to take yours, and his thumb brushed across the back of your hand.

"Then I could show you who I really am, because that's not me. Y/N, I know you've seen the worst half of me, but if you'd give me a chance, I have a better side, too."

Looking at him once more, his face was graced by a genuine smile, one that made you smile back. Never had that happened before.

"Is this another one of your tricks, Paris?" Your voice carrying a tone of mischief, he was shocked to find you toying with him. Tom laughed.

"Me? Tricking you? Never. Genuine honesty here on out, I swear."

Moments passed again, this time a more neutral feeling surrounding you. He spoke up, voice drifting through the silence quietly.

"Still hate me?"

"I suppose you're not the worst." You glared at him playfully and shrugged, to which the both of you erupted into giggles. The last place you expected to be was the position you were in right there, but you shocked yourself when you realised your brain had no complaint.

You scooted closer to him, blaming the cold when he had asked, and he leant his head on yours that had come to reside on his shoulder. Tom's hands had never once left your own. You stayed that way until help had arrived, and you knew from there on out that you were going to turn a spark into a flame.

#star trek #star trek imagine #star trek x reader #star trek voyager #star trek voy #voyager #voy #tom paris #tom paris imagine #tom paris x reader #x reader #imagine

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bungoustraybangs · 3 years

Text

Midnight Patron

The sand felt silk under her feet, as she made her way to the tiki bar. The sun was setting, and other tourists had already settled into their rooms. She wasn’t going to waste any time within the walls of a typical hotel suite. She was going to make memories in this little space of paradise. She nursed one of her drinks, taking in the sounds of the waves, she was content. She watched as the barkeep traded spaces with another. She curiously wondered why they’d continue a shift with so many people already retired for the evening.

She left her seat on the small nook, and made her way to the bar stool. She checks her phone noticing the time, it wouldn’t hurt to stay out longer. “Can I get you anything?” The bartender's voice did not match her appearance. The tourist stares at the women wide eyed, she hadn’t noticed before. Only just paying attention to the people that came and went. Never really staring, nothing catching her wandering eyes.

The bartender repeats herself. The tourist flushes “I’m good for now.” The bartender hums and picks up a leftover dish to wash. “With nobody left here, how will you survive this shift?” The bartender turns to her, she raises her brow. “You're still here.” The tourist suddenly feels self conscious. “I’m sorry, I wouldn't want to keep you. I’m not going to order anything else.”

The bartender holds up her hand. “Who's to say you're not enough?”

At this point the tourist searches for the womens name tag. Which was pinned to her floral apron. She wasn’t wearing much underneath, other than little black shorts, her muscular stomach exposed through the space of the apron. She was wearing a bikini top. “Des, is that short for like Destiny?” The tourist asks, the woman simply chuckles “Nope just Des.” It wasn’t like Des was being short with her, but the tourist couldn’t help the insecure thought of having a one sided conversation. So she looks back at her phone.

If Des didn’t want to know her name, she supposed it didn’t matter.

Des props her elbows on the counter, and rests her head on her palms. “What’s your name, midnight patron?” The tourist locks her phone, then stares up at her. Des’s head had been titled. The tips of her curly brown hair lay gently on the counter. The tourist rasps at her beauty. “Sky.” Des sizes her up with her captivating green eyes. “Sky huh? Is that short for Skyler?” She was clearly teasing. Sky shakes her head.

Des fishes in her pocket, and reveals a lighter. Then behind her ear in between her long fingers is a joint. She presses it to her lips and lights it. Sky momentarily cringed, this woman was seriously going to get fired. “There’s no cameras here; relax.” She passes it to Sky, and she inhales. “I haven't smoked in a while.”

Des grabs a little tiki tin from under the bar, and flicks an ash in it. “Enjoy yourself, you are here for that reason no?” Sky suddenly feels like she needs a drink. Her mouth feeling incredibly dry. Des catches on quickly “How about I make you something sweet?”

Sky nods “That would be perfect.” Des herself grabs a whiteclaw and takes a few swigs. She sets the joint down, then pulls out a bottle of rum, pineapple juice, and red syrup that Sky didn’t recognize. “This is grenadine, you will like it.”

Sky tentatively brings the cup to her lips, first savoring the crushed ice, then actually tasting the cocktail. Des muses “What do you think?” Sky swirls the glass around, attempting to seem sly, but the glass falls through her hand. Red juice splashing onto her. Des quickly grabs some napkins as Sky is too embarrassed to speak. “Give me your dress.” Sky looks up at her baffled. “I have nothing underneath.” Des takes her apron off and hands it to her. “You can wear this, you don’t want to attract any bugs.”

Sky looks around then hesitantly removes her dress. Des turns her head away, giving her privacy. Now Des is just in her bikini top, and shorts, and Sky in the floral apron. Both their bodies were exposed.

Des uses the opportunity to stretch out her arm, pulling it over her shoulder, she then tied her curls into a tight bun.

Sky shifts uncomfortably, she sighs filling the silence. Des turns to make another drink for her but Sky snatches her wrist. “You don’t have to make another one.” Des pauses, staring at the hand, Sky jerks away.

“Sorry.”

Not 5 meters away, there’s a dome tent with velvet curtains. Des and Sky exchange a look, the only light surrounding them are the flames from the torches. Des closes the space between them. She stares down at Sky, her eyes flicker to the tent. The shorter of the two, takes the hint, she startles “Would you like-.”

She’s caught off by the set of soft lips pressing against her. She stills, her heart is pounding. Soon they make their way to the tent. There’s a duvet at the corner of the spacious dome.

Des gestures for Sky to lay down, and she doesn’t hesitate. She’s sprawled out underneath her, feeling impossibly small. Des doesn’t waste any time stripping the apron off. Sky’s legs fall open, as Des settles between them. She peppers kisses up and down her thigh. Her fingers lace under her panties.

Sky lifts her hips, encouraging Des to continue. Des obliges, once they’re off, she dives in. Her tongue tracing the seams, she suckles on the bud eliciting a moan from Sky. Des reaches a hand to Sky’s bare breast. She squeezes gently. Sky runs her hand through Des’s curls. Feeling her mouth take in every part of her. Des expertly swirled her tongue, then added a finger. She pushes in slightly then pulls out. Sky clenches around her. Soon Des starts a rhythm, quickly pushing into the tight muscles surrounjding her fingers then out again.

She anchors her knee on the duvet, and hovers over Sky. Staring down at her as she continues to fuck her open with her hand. “You feel amazing.” Sky pushes herself up to kiss Des. They stay like that, for a moment. Then Des manuavers Sky on her side. Her hand snakes back between her legs, her wet fingers are soon swallowed back up. Sky’s eyes roll in the back of her head. She’s being fucked from behind, her stomach tightens as she feels Des’s fingers go even deeper. Des was given full access to every inch of her body. WIth the new position she went faster. Sky’s mouth hung open little whimpers escaping her lungs. She was going to come, and so quickly too.

Des wasn’t stopping either, Sky jolts, her toes curl and after a few more thrusts she’s coming. Her body jerked, as her nails clawed the sheets. Des swallows the moan before it was even heard. Sky trembles from the aftershock. Des lays beside her, eyes dilated and full of lust. “You were so good for me, kitten.” She slowly pulls her fingers out, then licks them up. The very action made Sky crave more. She attempts to still her shaking body, but fails and crumbles back down. Des kisses her neck and whispers “It’s okay pet, we have all night.”

#smut #ns/fw text #ns/fw #wlw #wlw ocs #I was given little to no context for this one #lesbian island paradise

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jamaiskookie · 4 years

Text

mutuals (pjmxreader) [bonus:celibacy]

~mutuals~ [youtuber!reader x idol!jimin] social media AU

synopsis: park jimin is a (slightly problematic) idol singer, and he becomes completely smitten with a youtuber after stumbling upon her dance cover to his own song.

genre: fluff, a good dosing of cracK, literally two seconds of angst blink and u miss it

word count: 2.3k

[A/N]: thank you for all the love you’ve given mutuals! can’t believe it’s only been like one week since this blog has been up hehE enjoy this drabble of thirsty!jimin after he found your video. if you have no idea what i’m talking about gO READ THE FIRST CHAPTER

series masterlist

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When JinHit first hit record sales with the success of Jimin’s mini album, and RAPLINE’s first title single a couple years ago, Jin finally gave in to Jimin’s begging and gave all the artists their own personalised studio in the JinHit building. It’s where all the greatest hits on the charts are written. It’s practically the modern eighth wonder of the world, considering the names and talent that have graced the walls.

Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon all have their separate studios to write, produce, and record in, and all three of the small rooms are located next to each other. Partially because of design and common sense, but also so all three friends can conveniently annoy each other when needed. Jin’s office isn’t too far away either, just across the floor. Usually, if they’re all working in the studio, they’ll walk over to Jin’s office during lunch hour and leech off his amazing personal pantry in his office. The office is much, much bigger than their studios, and Jimin never fails to remind Jin that.

All three artists have grown a little attached to their studios. It’s where they do what they all love most, after all. Yoongi barely lets anyone into his ‘Genius Lab’, and ever since a staff member accidentally messed with his coffee machine, he hasn’t let anyone step foot in. Nobody’s even allowed to come inside Namjoon’s studio during what he calls his ‘namjoon talent time’ which is basically just a period of time before comeback season where he locks himself in the studio, writing music 24/7.

He occasionally asks Jimin to listen to his unreleased files for suggestions, but other than that, noone except Yoongi goes inside his studio during ‘namjoon talent time’, and Namjoon only reluctantly lets him in as his bandmate. Not that Jimin minds, he hasn’t been let inside since he accidentally mistook Joon’s studio for his own and brought one of his one-night-stands over. Joonie was horrified, and made Jimin sanitise, wash and clean every part of the room, all while he cried about how his ‘baby was molested’. It was traumatising for both parties.

Out of the three, Jimin’s the least protective over his studio, even though he’s the one who put the most effort into it. He’s spent years perfecting it, making it the best place for inspiration and writing music. Everything in the studio has been personally chosen and thought out by him. The snacks and custom mini fridge, the wall of his entire discography, trophies, music awards, and his personal favourite, the official JIMIN logo sign above the couch.

It lights up in purple.

Despite being a pretty stereotypical assholey partying douche idol, Jimin’s likes to think he’s actually quite talented. He’s been named ‘Most professional idol’ on every single online survey he can find (He’s also always voted for ‘Most handsome’, but that’s besides the point), and it’s true. Jimin never sells himself short. He is a professional musician, singer, and producer. He writes his own music, choreographs his own dancing, and uses his platform to spread positive, meaningful messages. There’s a reason he’s so internationally successful, and it’s because he’s talented.

Maybe right now isn’t a great example of his talent. Jimin was in his studio, holding his head in his hands. Sure, he’s a globally recognised and accomplished songwriter, but to be honest, he hadn’t written a single piece of original JIMIN music since he wrote ‘Filter’ with Namjoon months ago. He was in the biggest creative slump in his entire career. He had tried almost everything, co-writing, exercise, music samples, playing around on instruments. Hell he even tried music therapy. Whatever melody he tried to create, whatever lyrics he tried to write, it all came out sounding like garbage.

Yesterday was a little bit of a blow to Jimin’s ego. It was three in the morning, and he’d been in the studio for seven hours, with only one verse written.

I love to let loose,

Have you ever tried eating moose?

It’s all so bananas,

Tony fucking Montana.

Yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing. It’s not even a verse, it looks more like a kindergartener’s attempt to write poetry. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t really feel like writing music or putting his thoughts in a song. Jimin is just plain out of ideas. He has nothing to write about. And if he doesn’t have good content to put out, he’d rather not put anything out at all.

But he still hates it. All his life, he’s coped by writing, singing and dancing. This writer’s block has been too frustrating. Too many sleepless nights and crumpled papers have been wasted over it, with no progress or music in result. Plus, Jin might be one of his closest friends, but Jin was also a boss, and he still needed more tracks for Jimin’s big comeback, happening end of the year.

He can’t help it. Jimin has nothing left to write about. He opened one eye when he heard the distant ding of his phone coming from somewhere in the studio. Grumbling incoherently, he opened the notification, to find… you.

Jimin’s mouth was hanging open the entire video. His eyes twitched the tiniest bit and he almost dropped the phone when you said his face was “decent”, but he had to watch it again, because the first time around, he didn’t hear a word that came out your damn mouth. He was otherwise… preoccupied. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t tear his damn eyes off the screen. Curse Min Yoongi for sending him this.

He even cringed when he had to bring his sleeve up to wipe the tiniest bit of drool off his face. Practically salivating. What the fuck? How old was he? He was Park Jimin, why was he popping a boner from watching some stranger on the internet dance to his songs? He’s been in the industry for way too long now, he was practically immune to scantily clad women prancing around him. So why he completed concentrated on your stupid little crop top? Not to mention, you were practically insulting him at this point. What was so special?

For one moment, Jimin forced his eyes off the screen, wondering if the sleep deprivation had really affected him that much, or if this was another side effect of the writer’s block he’s been having. It’s the partying ‘clean act’ ban Jin’s been forcing me to go on, he thought, even though Jimin wasn’t totally convinced of that. (Despite swearing not to, he looked straight back to down at his phone afterwards to reply the video.)

He was so fixated on the screen, he didn’t even notice when Yoongi flung the door open and walked inside. Jimin only lifted his head when he heard Yoongi’s obnoxiously loud groan.

“What- When did you get here?” Yoongi recently went back to a fan-favourite hair colour of his, and Jimin was still not used to seeing him with bright mint coloured hair. In his opinion, he looked like a highlighter, but Yoongi seemed to not mind it.

“I’ve been standing here for the past two minutes, drinking my coffee. The fuck you watching on your phone that’s got you drooling?”

“NOTHING.” Yoongi narrowed his eyes, and before Jimin could even move away, he managed to snatch the phone away from Jimin’s hands.

“What the fuck- how? You know, this is why your fanbase thinks you’re a cat.” Yoongi ignored his words with ease. “Oh my god,” He said. “Are you watching the video I sent you? I didn’t expect you to actually watch it.”

“I always watch my fan’s videos after a comeback!” Jimin insisted, clawing upwards to steal his own phone back, but Yoongi kept slapping his hands away.

“Yeah, but this isn’t a fan. This is just like, one of your fanboys and a girl roasting you.” Yoongi stared back at Jimin suspiciously when he tried to defend himself. “Why were you watching this girl dance like a starving man, Chim?”

“Just, because- what- I was nOT watching her like a starving man. Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of a pervert!” Jimin finally managed to grab ahold of his phone again, and he threw it behind him on the couch, away from Yoongi.

“Hyung,” He sighed. “I think maybe it’s Jin’s new ‘clean, good boy’ rule. Along with this stupid fucking slump I’ve been having these days, I just don’t feel great, okay? So don’t be so fussy with me. I can’t write, I can’t party… If I want to ogle over some random girl on the internet, I will.” Jimin cringed once the words came out of his mouth, but Yoongi slowly nodded, sitting down on the couch.

Min Yoongi may be a little too gay to understand Jimin’s womaniser ways, but the frustration behind not being able to write music, that, he understood. “You’re trying to justify being a perv by using your mental problems, but I’ll talk to you about that later on.”

“Chim, we all have our slumps. It’s honestly a wonder that this is your first serious creative block. Me and Joon, and every single artist in the world, is bound to go through that at some point. It’s not the end. You’ll still be able to write good music soon, you’re a good writer.” Jimin refused to meet Yoongi’s eyes, even if what he was saying did make a little sense. He just chose to stay silent.

“You just have nothing left to write about. You can’t keep living like this though, Chimmy. It’s unhealthy.”

“What do you mean, unhealthy? I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”

Yoongi stared at him deadpan, gesturing to the entire state of his studio. “It’s a complete mess in here,” He said. “Plus, I don’t think you’ve left this studio for days. The others may not want to say it to your face, but we’re all a bit worried about you. Stop forcing yourself to ingest all these redbulls to try to keep writing.”

“When inspiration comes, it’ll come. You can’t force it, it doesn’t work that way. What you need, is a break. Go back home for once, maybe visit your mom. And for god’s sakes, take a shower please. Trust me, okay?”

Yoongi doesn’t like admitting it, but he’s the most caring one out of their friend group. Anyone can tell from the look in his eyes right now, that he’s genuinely concerned about his friend. He’s also the one with most sense, but Jimin will never tell him that, because his advice, no matter how sensible, is useless.

All he’s known is singing, writing, and throwing himself in work. To just stop? Even if it’s to take a short break, it doesn’t feel right to Jimin. Instead of telling Yoongi his problems, he just poked his tongue in his cheek. If lightbulbs actually popped up above people’s heads when they had a good idea, a massive one would’ve appeared on top of Jimin’s.

“I’ve got it!” He said, excitedly. Yoongi sat up straight. “You’re going to take my advice for once?”

“No, of course not, Hyung. Don’t be silly.” Yoongi slouched his back again, closing his eyes.

“I’ll just hit this girl up!” Yoongi’s eyes snapped open.

“What.”

“Yeah! Who knows, y’know? Maybe I’ve been keeping myself to Jin’s rules a little too well. It won’t hurt the company if I let myself go just once. Blow off some steam, come back fresh and recharged.” Jimin rubbed his hands together like a bad Disney villain.

“It’s too early for this.” Yoongi whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s three in the afternoon.” Yoongi ignored him.

“You really aren’t going to take my advice, huh.”

“Nope!” Jimin said, popping the ‘p’ annoyingly.

“You promised Jin you’d go celibate.”

“I said I’d clean up the partying act. I don’t recall taking a vow of celibacy.” Yoongi just sighed, and fell back down on the sofa, mindlessly sipping at his coffee.

Jimin hesitated. “You’re not going to… tell me not to? Or give me another one of your eco-feminist speeches again?” Yoongi shrugged.

“You’ve heard it too many times. Plus, I have a feeling this is going to be funny.”

“Funny? Hyung, what part of this could possible be funny to you?” There was a brief pause filled with awkward silence, before Yoongi blinked slowly.

“When she rejects you, of course.” Jimin threw his jacket, aimed straight for Yoongi’s head. His stupidly fast cat-like reflexes managed to dodge it, but Jimin scowled at him nonetheless.

“She’s not going to reject me.” Jimin walked over, picking up the very same jacket he threw at Yoongi, before plopping his sunglasses back on his face. “No woman has ever managed to reject me before, and I intend on adding her to that list.” He pursed his lips.

“Plus, she’s super hot. Great ass. Attractive people attract attractive people.” Jimin turned his phone back on once more to sneak one last peek at you in the thumbnail of the video, before stuffing his phone into his back pocket. “I just need to get it out of my system. This might be what I need to get me out of this creative rut!”

He could’ve sworn Yoongi muttered something under his breath, something along the lines of ‘fucking asshole’, but he chose to ignore it.

“Alright, well, see you, Yoons!” Jimin practically skipped out of the studio, startling the producer’s assistant outside with his slightly disturbing enlarged grin.

“Don’t come crying to me when she refuses to get in your pants, you fucking diva!”

Jimin continued walking towards the elevator, but he threw up his middle finger behind him.

“DON’T RUIN MY EXIT, BITCH!”

[taglist:] @notmontae97 @lucedelsole97

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thejustmaiden · 4 years

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I’ve seen so many shippers say that sesshomaru would be such a terrible parent because he didn’t give her shoes or didn’t prevent her death and that’s why it’s not a father-daughter relationship. Yet also claim that he loved her and proposes to her (drama cd 12 year old girl) and somehow those same arguments don’t count? There’s no leg to stand on to argue that sesshomaru and rin were romantic because that’s literally pedophilia, so the only thing they can do is claim he was a terrible guardian?

Hey anon, thanks for the ask! Hope I can help. :)

You made some great points, thank you!! By their logic, why would somebody even want Sesshomaru with adult Rin at all if he was such a terrible "companion" to her in the first place? If they really believe he neglected her that much and put her in harm's way all the time (because let's be willfully ignorant here and pretend he didn't rescue her multiple times too and eventually leave her to live a normal *safer* life with Kaede), shouldn't they be concerned that he'd be just as bad to her in a romantic relationship once she's old enough, too? That should be something that crosses their mind as well if they weren't so preoccupied with Sesshomaru's supposed lack of parenting skills.

A lot of those shippers like to act like we're only attacking them for implying they must be pedophiles or that they condone pedophilia, but I personally would never make such a nasty accusation about a person in real life. Often times they refuse to address those other serious issues we have with this ship though, because it's really just the pedophilia talk they'll focus on since that's their only easy point to refute.

Aside from the possibility of Sesshomaru grooming Rin since her time in the village, a lot of us anti-s*ssrin fans never actually viewed him as a pedophile-like caretaker to begin with during their times traveling together. The only reason we even bring that up is because we simply cannot ignore when those shippers insist that:

1. He supposedly proposes to her (even when she's still only a child)

2. He's not like a father to her anyway so that's totally acceptable

Nah, even if they're right about him not being like a father to her, that's still plain wrong!! Because then now they're trying to justify an adult male very inappropriately making a move on a young girl here! Perhaps he wasn't pressuring her or forcing himself on her like a true pedophile would do at or around the time of the proposal, but can they really stand there and say that they'd be more than okay with witnessing something like that in real life and not in the slightest cringe??

Okay, this is where a lot of them will argue that this is not real life (so I guess that means we can forgive the child grooming if it's just fiction?), or that older men courting girls soon-to-be young women was the norm in feudal Japan so then that's cool in their books, too. The thing is, even if we can tolerate all that like they do, that's not enough reason to deem it acceptable since it's more than about that. We MUST also factor in that Sesshomaru isn't just some man who took a liking to a blossoming Rin he saw from afar. No no, this man KNEW her and was LIKE a father to her, too!

We can't stress that enough really! Whether by their standards he was a bad father or not doesn't matter, because all that does matter is that he took on a role resembling that of a father- YES, even if we never hear them call each other father or daughter exactly. We also didn't hear him claim outright that he's (falling) in love with her either, so why is one implied but not the other?! It's not like Sesshomaru is a man of many words anyway, but his actions have sure demonstrated to all of us that he cares for this young girl he took in very deeply and very truly. I mean, just look at the large portion of fan art out there for Sesshomaru and young!Rin (not S*ssrin). He's usually fondly embracing Rin or comforting her like a GOOD father or male guardian/caretaker would. So somebody please explain to me why Sesshomaru is only sweet or loving to Rin when it's convenient to your narrative but not ours? You can't just take an angle on their relationship and bend it at your will to justify him being a terrible demon father who didn't know how to protect a young human girl on one hand, but then show and share all this fan art of him doing the exact opposite on the other! It just makes no sense at all. You can't have your cake and eat it too!

So the special bond they formed over the YEARS they traveled alongside each other isn't something they can up and forget just because Rin is finally an adult. That can't simply clean their slate as if they had no prior established history between them. Their relationship resembles one a young girl shares with a grown man who looks after her for a significant amount of time (she didn't view him as just a demon; to her he was at the very least akin to a lord/vassal). So knowing all that we know about what they've endured together, I'd like to believe that Rin could never develop romantic feelings for her main role model, because whether he was physically there for her less than Jaken was is irrelevant. Sesshomaru is the one she really looked up to since that day he brought her back to life, and he's protected and cared for her the best way he could and in a way everyone failed to after her family died. It's safe to assume that Sesshomaru filled that role as you can tell that she finally felt safe and loved for the first time in a long time. Now if Rin were to start to become sexually attracted to this demon who basically came to represent everything she lacked in a family, then I'd be deeply troubled and concerned for her mental health. And same thing applies to Sesshomaru.

I would hope that whenever I have children someday, that they would never become physically intimate with whomever was their babysitter back when they were little. Nah, that man would be arrested!! He was around to watch her grow up and the thought of that being sexualized or romanticized, even if it wasn't intentional, makes me sick. I don't care if she's a consenting adult who is free to make her own decisions, because I guarantee you this is not an image any of us ever want to picture! And I didn't even choose an example with a father. I mean, can you even imagine that? Yeah, I rather not either.....

Nobody liked it when Woody Allen did it in real life regardless if he makes excellent movies, so why would I like to see it on my TV even if it's one of my favorite characters? Nope, Sesshomaru is amazing- and yes, nOt rEaL- but not even he gets a free pass here. Nobody should in any capacity or on ANY MEDIUM (fantasy, reality, etc.) be remotely allowed to get away with such a disgusting act even if it used to be tradition. And no, this isn't just some Western way of thinking. This is a 21st century way of thinking!

Because all that S*ssrin shippers like to repeat over and over again to us (as well as to themselves), is that Sesshomaru was not Rin's father. So fine, hypothetically speaking, let's say he isn't her adoptive father. That still doesn't take away from the truth that he was very much invested in the overall safety and well-being of this young girl. He contributed to her care even if it was just passing a message along to Jaken before taking off again. I was a teacher for a few years, and the love and affection I had for those children was real, even if I wasn't their parent and I didn't see them every day. That doesn't change the fact that I would've done absolutely anything in my power to keep them safe-- I would've even gone to the underworld and back!!! You know, kinda like that one character who was such a bad dad. 😉

So you see, you don't need to be the parent or even around all the time to love and care for a child. Bottom line is that Rin, Sesshomaru, Jaken, and Ah-Un are a FAMILY! Granted, they may be a little dysfunctional, but it's not like there's such a thing as the perfect family. They may be far from what a conventional family looks like too, but that doesn't make their family any less valid. Nothing or nobody can or should ever change that ❣

#inuyasha #hanyo no yashahime #anti sessrin #asks #askbox

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

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In Case You Don’t Live Forever- Peter Parker x venom!Reader

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Warnings: brief mentions of suicide, cancer, and drepression

AN: Hello! this is the first chapter and I hope you enjoy. Reader is essentially the female Eddie Brock. This takes place after the events of the Venom movie, but before Infinity War and Endgame.

Masterlist

Chapter One

Chapter two Chapter three

“Married?” I squeaked. My eyes grazed over the words on the card a hundred times without retaining any of the information. I momentarily forgot how to even read. I solely relied on the words coming out of Andy’s mouth.

“Yes, uh, married.” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Dani and I are getting married over the summer.” Andy said. I was still staring at that damn card. The awkward silence filled the air, suffocating the three of us, but I didn’t care. I was holding my ex-fiancé’s wedding invitation in my hand for Christ’s sake.

“Married.” I repeated, like an idiot.

“You said that already, dumbass.” Venom chimed in, telepathically. I kicked the bench we were sitting on to quiet her down.

“Yes. Mare-weed.” He mimicked my New York accent just a little. I had trouble pronouncing my r’s. They often sounded like w’s. Andy never failed to point out how I sounded like a baby. I playfully elbowed him.

“Give me a break, it’s a lot to take in.” I said softly.

“I know. That’s why I wanted to tell you in person. I figured it would be better than you randomly getting the card in the mail and finding out that way.” Andy explained.

“Our hero.” Venom snarled. I pinched my leg to send her the message to be quiet.

“Yea. Yea no I’m glad you told me.” I said. My eyes finally processed something on the card.

“You’re getting married on August 10?” I asked, finally tearing my eyes away from that damn invitation and looking at him. He looked good. His curly brown hair was cut shorter than usual and he had on one of his signature suits.

“Bright and early. I chose that day because-“

“Because it’s your parents anniversary. I know.” I cut him off. I looked down and my hands. “We were gonna get married that day too.” I said timidly. I wasn’t gonna say it, but how could I not? He and I were engaged too once. I could feel Andy’s face heat up.

“Y/N, I totally forgot. I never would’ve, I mean, I didn’t erm I didn’t want-“ he stumbled over his words. I held up a hand to silence him.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. We were engaged and now we’re not. Besides, I’m really happy for you and Dani. She really helped me get back in my feet when Venom and I first bonded. I like her. And if you want to marry her on that day, then go ahead.” I said, and I meant it. I did like Dani. I’d like her more if she wasnt dating the love of my life, but hey, nobody’s perfect.

“You’re lying. We want him back. He looks so juicy and delicious.” Venom said. I choked on my saliva for a moment. Andy was quick to pat my back.

“You alright?” He asked. I nodded and made a mental note to have a domestic conversation about boundaries with Venom when we got home.

“I’m fine. And anyways, I’ve uh, I’ve moved on.” I blurted, like a total freaking dumbass.

“What? No we haven’t?” Venom said

“You have?” Andy asked. He seemed taken aback.

“No! We love you!” Venom cried. I was just greatful she was only speaking in my head.

“Yep. I’m in a deeply committed and loving relationship.” I said. It wasn’t a total lie. I was technically in a relationship with Venom, though be it a host parasite kinda deal. And I did deeply love her. I avoided eye contact and began to tug on a curl.

“What’s he like?” Andy asked. He seemed pissed off all the sudden. I pretended not to notice his change in mood.

“She, actually. She’s great. She’s uh…tall. Super super tall.” I said. It was true. Venom was 7’6. Andy nodded so I continued.

“She’s black, like yourself, and she’s got this big, beautiful smile.” I could feel myself cringing internally.

“You think my smile is beautiful?” Venom said sheepishly. I rolled my eyes.

“And she just always has my back. She’s my ride or die, you know? If I didn’t have her, I’d be dead. Literally.” I finished. And I would. If Venom and I ever got separated, we would both die. Andy was looking off into the distance. He sucked his teeth before nodding again. All he ever did was nod.

“That’s nice.” He said. His tone didn’t sound like he thought it was nice.

“I’d literally die.” I repeated.

“I get it.” He deadpanned.

“Like, I’d freaking perish.” I said.

“Alright.” He held up his hands and I stopped. Venom giggled in my head. I giggled back quietly.

“So, do you think you can come?” He asked.

Of course I could come. What the hell else would I be doing? But I was just getting back on my feet. I was at rock bottom before I found Venom. Well, before we found each other. That was nearly a year ago. That night came back in flashes every now and then.

I stared at a string of pictures of Andy and I at a fair. We went in the photoboth and immortalized our love in a series of goofy pictures. At least, I thought we did. Each picture showed us how we once were. Happy, youthful, and in love. Kisses on cheeks and arms around necks that had been long forgotten. I stared at the pictures until tears filled my eyes. He left me six months ago and it hurt like a bitch everyday. I tore my eyes away from the photos and they landed on a framed picture of me and my sister, Mary. My beautiful sister. I picked up the picture and smiled at it fondly. We were wearing matching shirts that said “Mary the Monster”. I had suggested “Mighty Mary” but she liked monster better.

“Why would you call yourself a monster? Monsters are scary and evil.” I teased.

“Exactly. I’m gonna scare the cancer out of my body. And who says all monsters are evil? They’re not. In fact, all monsters are human. At least they used to me. And I’m human too.” She answered. I smiled at her admiringly.

“Are you sure? You look a bit more like an alien to me.” I said, rubbing her bald head.

“Who else can look this good bald? A monster, that’s who?” Mary beamed. “Now, are you sure you want to go through with this?” She asked, turning on the razor.

“Yes. If my sisters bald, I’m bald.” I looked at my self in the mirror and nodded fiercely. Her face lit up with pride and she began to shave my head.

That was three years ago. Two years ago, she lost her fight to cancer. She died when I was 16. She was only 21. Twenty freaking one. Just three months shy of her 22nd birthday.

I remember calling her after looking at our picture. I’d call her every now and then, when I needed to hear her voicemail.

“Hey Mary. It’s Y/N. I’m sure you’re busy kicking ass in heaven and that’s why you didn’t pick up. You know, you could always come back down here and kick ass. Heaven is way overrated. I hear you don’t even have cable. I’m uh, I’m in a tough place right now. I really miss you. Every damn day. It…it should’ve been me. Dad always said it and, and I think he was right” a steady flow of tears fell down my cheek. “Anyway. I might be seeing you real soon. I love you. Goodnight” I hung up and dialed my dad.

“Hm hello?” He grunted on the third ring. I might’ve woken him up.

“Hey dad. It’s me.” I said sheepishly. We didn’t really talk since I moved to San Francisco.

“Mary? Is that you?” He asked. He was drunk, no doubt. His words were slurred and he slow.

“No, dad. It’s your other daughter. It’s Y/N.” I said. “I just…I was wondering if I could come home. I know I moved out here to work and be with Andy, but Andy and I actually broke and I uh, I lost my job dad. I’m kinda at a low point and I just want to go home.” I confessed. I waited for his answer. All I heard was silence, then a low, gravely laugh.

“Home? You think this is home? Your sister dies and you leave me here all alone and think it’s home? You think I want you here after what you’ve done? After you killed your mother and let your sister die?” He asked. He wasn’t yelling. He was genuinely asking. It didn’t stop it from hurting though.

“I didn’t kill mom. Thousands of women die in childbirth every year. We’ve talked about this a hundred times. Please just…just let me come home dad. I really need to get out of here.” I said. Hot tears fell down my face. I didn’t want to go to him, but I had nowhere else to go.

“I don’t want you around here. I never wanted you, period. Your sister was my golden girl. Your mother and I were so happy to have her.” He sounded sober for a moment, thinking of those happy memories. “And then you came along. And you killed your mother. My wife. My beautiful wife, gone, just like that. Leaving me with a screaming, crying baby. No. You can’t come home. This isn’t your home. Don’t call again.” And he hung up. I knew I was at my lowest point. I knew that was it. I saw my bottle of anti-depressants out of the content of my eye. I went over to the bottle and toyed with it in my hands. I lost my job, relationship, and family. I lost everything. What was the point of living to see tomorrow when tomorrow had nothing for me? I poured the pills into my hand and swallowed them. I drank some water and went to bed.

And then I woke up.

I woke up the next day. It hadn’t worked. It only left me feeling emptier and more miserable than before. I picked up my phone and went to call Mary again when I saw Dr. Dora Skirth’s number. On a whim, I dialed it. That night, Venom and I met, and I had found a reason to live to tomorrow.

“Y/N?” Andy asked. I snapped out of it.

“Oh right sorry. Um…” I mulled it over. Losing Andy nearly killed me. I was happy for him, I really was. But I wasn’t ready to attend his wedding. That was gonna be us. We were gonna be married on August 10th. It should’ve been me picking out a dress and bouquet and cake with him. He and I should be handing out wedding invitations. He shouldn’t be giving one to me. Of course I wanted to be at his wedding. But I wanted to be the bride.

“Actually, I cant. The Daily Bugle called me and offered me a job in New York. They want me to cover a story on some serial killer. I was gonna move there part time until the story is done. I’m leaving in a few weeks.” I blurted. Actual word vomit. It was partly true. The Daily Bugle did want to to write the story. But I had no moving plans nor was I the type of organized person who could make moving plans in a few mere weeks.

“Oh really? Wow.” Andy said. I couldn’t read his emotion. Disappointment and excitement seemed to be the forerunners but I couldn’t tell.

“Yea. I just finalized everything this morning.” More lies. I better call them the hell back. Andy nodded. My heart felt a twinge of guilt.

“But hey, maybe I’ll finish early and make it back in time for your big day. I mean, it’s only April. I have lots of time. How many people could this guy possible kill until August?” I joked. Andy didn’t laugh. He never really got my sense of humor. He did smile however.

“That’s great Y/N. I really hope you can make it. And congratulations. On everything. The girlfriend, the job. Things are really turning around for you.” He said. We smiled sincerely at each other before saying our goodbyes and going our separate ways.

I entered my apartment and slid down the door.

“Holy shit. I’m such a liar.” I said. I covered my face with my hands. Venom manifested herself and looked at me.

“You’re not a liar if we move to New York and start dating.” She said. I laughed.

“You have a point. In that case, will you be my girlfriend, Miss Venom?” I asked sarcastically. Venom smiled.

“You’re not really my type, but I’m willing to settle.” Venom answered. I laughed again.

“Then let’s make moving plans, baby. We’re going to New York.”

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escaping-thoughts-reviews · 5 years

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“Captain Marvel” mistaking misandry for feminism

This is my personal opinion as a woman who saw the movie with an open mind and hoped to enjoy it... sadly that wasn’t the case. I’ve heard some of the controversies surronding it and the main actress, but I didn’t care because I hadn’t seen the movie yet and didn’t want to judge it based on that. Now I’ve seen it and here’s my personal opinion:

This is not a feminist movie.

The main protagonist, Carol Danvers is a bidimensional character with no personal growth (emotional or power related) and no emotions what-so-ever. Jude’s character keeps telling her to "control your emotions", but here’s the problem: SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY!! She never emotes, just stares blankly or makes a condescending face ever once in a while.

The writing is bad, really bad: from the exposition dumps and lines that no person would say (”This is you when you were little. You didn’t get along with your parents. So Mom said we became your real family"... hadn't seen this type of lines since the “children of the corn” miniseriers *cringe*, at least that was enjoyably bad).

She's rude towards her comrades and people she doesn't know yet (Fury), especially the men, that are represented either as idiots or as sexists and who she belittles at every opportunity, even if they are doing their job (Fury asking justified questions). On the other hand, the other women aren't allowed to shine, even if they are better characters. Point in case: Maria Rambeau, single mother (Frank nowhere to be seen, because... queerbate, I guess), who makes me wish she had been Captain Marvel! She has character, PERSONALITY! She has empathy and real stakes (her daughter's and planet’s safety), why wasn't she chosen to be Captain Marvel?! Or better, the acutal first female Captain Marvel, Monica Rambeau. Maria’s daugther, now represented as a child who idolizes Carol and “wants to be just like her” (a Miss Marvel who’s comics never sold and that nobody liked). I’m sorry Monica, your character deserved so much better...

On that note even Maria’s character falls because when (according to the movie) Carol feels “lost”, Maria gives this speech that basically boils down to Carol=perfect. And I understand, sometimes, when you’re sad or depressed, you need to hear all the positive and amazing things that you are, but here it fails because C.M. never thinks that she not awesome. And after that Maria is relegated to half-sidekick with Fury, just so Carol can be her condescending self again.

So in the end every character in this movie exists solely to kiss Carol's ass.

Then in the climax, Ronan appears, you know, the big bad evil of GotG and even he is useless, and frankly I found it insulting that a ship that took thousands of lives to stop in an earlier installment was destroyed in minus 3 seconds just by C.M. flying by... way to take out all the gravity of those deaths (counting Groot) from Guardians of the Glalxy... (not to mention Lee Pace’s makeup... ugh, it didn’t even sound like him!).

Also a moment of silence for Jude’s character... thank you. Man, was he given the middle finger. The final showdown was suppost to be an important, emotional moment, where Carol has to face the man who saved her all those years ago, gived her his blood and acted as a mentor towards her. Sure, he was doing it for evil reason, but to her it was real, he was important, the only one she trusted and went to after a troubled dream... and what to we get? Carol, with the same emotionless face punching him with her powers to “stick it to the man” without batting an eye. Seriously?!

Take for example Thor realizing Loki’s betrayal at the end of the first movie, the emotions, the heartbreak he goes through because the brother he loves turned on him. Or Tony realizing the man he saw as a father figure wanted him dead and having to kill him to save the lives of innocent people. Or Steve finding out Bucky is alive, but has been turned into a murderer and feeling torn apart because he has to confront (and possibly kill) him. THIS is the right way to do it!

I'm not going to touch the whole Tesseract bs, because it's just dumb and opens up plot holes the size of Jupiter. Whatever...

Or Fury apparently knowing aliens exist since the ‘90, but being shocked in “Thor” after seeing the Destroyer, stating that “now they know they are not alone in the universe and are outgunned”. And later in Avengers, Black Widow saying S.H.I.E.L.D. (that wasn’t called that utill Iron Man) didn’t train them for an occurance such as an alien invasion... BUT IN THIS MOVIE they show us that they knew about other intelligent and advanced life forms. So bs on this one too. It’s lazy, sloppy writing and it shows.

Also, the Avengers are named after her? a character that didn't even exist in the MCU before this movie which is right before the big finale? Bull. F*****g. Shit! CAPTAIN AMERICA WAS THE FIRST AVENGER! It’s the f***ing title!

In the end Carol Danvers is (and I don't use this term lightly) a Mary-Sue.

p.s. B.Larson, STOP saying that you represent women and feminism because it's clear you don’t even know the meaning of the word. And the fact that now people think that what you are spewing is feminist it’s insultilting, because guess what: it's NOT!!! Talking s**t about men is NOT progressive and is NOT empowering. It’s misandry! That's it.

And Disney deleting reviews and videos that you don’t like just to make this dumbsterfire look better... It doesn’t. It makes it worst.

Here’s a list of actual feminist movies you can enjoy:

Star Wars (+ clone wars, rebels)

Mulan

Frozen

Mad Max: Fury Road

Wonder Woman

Alita Battle Angel

Alien

Terminator

Silence of the Lambs

Crimson Peak

Hunger Games

Princess Mononoke (and many other Ghibli movies)

Kill Bill

Hidden Figures

Fried Green Tomatoes

Other media with strong female characters:

Pride and Prejudice (book, tv series, movie)

Harry Potter (books, movies)

Once Upon a Time

Avatar: the Last Airbender

Legend of Korra

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Bones

Xena: Warrior Princess

Fullmetal Alchemist

Inu-yasha

Charmed

Please feel free to add to the list because having B.Larson stating that her character is the First™ is absolute bs and young women (and young men) need to know there are better and inclusive options, because at the end of the day that’s what feminism is about: inclusion and equality.

I only hope that all the money this movie made will lead to more movies with female protagonists that are actually good.

Rating: Crap/Forgettable

#captain marvel #captain marvel review #rant review #negative reviews #2019 #movies #reviews #Escaping thoughts

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mynarcissticex · 4 years

Text

How it all begun... part of chapter 1.

Chapter 1 - The Megalomanical man.

I️ remember the first time I️ looked at him with admiration, the first of many butterflies. I realise that was just my defense mechanisms telling me he’s toxic...

I️ remember the first time our lips touched each other’s like he was the only man in the world for me.

I️ remember the first time we expressed our love for each other, and how perfectly in sync we were as we said it.

I️ remember the first time I️ met his mum and how nice she was until she started enabling her son.

I️ remember so many great firsts during the lovebombing stage, but went onto less and less great memories and the abuse just got worse as time went on.

but what I️ don’t remember is The first lie.

The first sign of him cheating the countless times and red flags I missed From the start because I knew then But I chose to ignore them,

The first time he verbally attacked me a month into dating when I told him I was previously sexually abused and he kicked off and degraded me rather than understanding and left me in a hotel room crying inconsolably.

The first time he would stand over me and talk down to me.

The first time he started ramping up his verbal abuse.

When he begun sexually abusing me which I had no idea back then. the first time he forced anal sex onto me in our suite on my 30th birthday, the first time he tried shoving his manhood down my throat, when he pulled my hair hard during sex, slapped me round the face during sex, Spanked me until my arse was red roar and told me not to be a “pussy” about it so I complied to keep the peace trying to satisfy him but he would still complain I wasn’t good enough in bed but looking back he wasn’t and I was blamed for it, each of his ex’s I know and have spoken to all said he was shit in bed and they was right, he treated us like meat not humans. He was extremely rough and hard there was no compassion and mutual connection he withheld sex, always was on his terms, he never made me orgasm I had to pretend in the fear of upsetting him as of course he asked me how many times did I orgasm and sometimes I’d say 8 I mean He really believed that and he would feel so damn superior and smirk and do this grin of I’m so “godlike” it was cringe to say the least.

He was The first person who made me feel inferior whilst wanting me to make him feel superior.

The first time he told me I’ll kill you and disguised it as an joke Or the first time he said he would/shouldve.

The first public fight where’d I️’d whisper begging him to stop to not start a scene as he followed me up the road laughing and smirking at me and belittling me late at night on the street as I threatened to leave and go home.

The first scene he made outside a hotel whilst we were smoking because his mood swings were always so insidious and I asked him why he always had to ruin What was meant to be quality time together.

The first time he broke my Expensive and some of my sentimental possessions because I called him out for being nasty to me for no reason.

The first time I realised his love was all a lie in year 3 when his mask slipped and he told me he was “incapable of loving” “I never loved you” and he was right and I failed to listen.

The first time I️ begged him to stay with me over the woman he left me for.

All the times he gave me the silent treatment as punishment for his wrongdoings.

The breaks we had and me keep fighting for him when I should of left

The times he would use pity stories to prevent me from leaving him.

The guilt tripping.

The taking me for granted from the offset making me pay for everything, food, clothing, when I was struggling financially.

The first time he told me I️ wasn’t good enough fit enough and I was an ugly fat bitch.

The first hole in the wall I️ had to patch or the first electronics I️ had to replace that he smashed up.

The first time I️ lied for him to protect everyone from the truth......etc.

When he just came back to me to manipulate me out of a motorbike and all the money he could get his grubby little paws on, in total about £80k of my inheritance was wasted on changing my life around for him.

I spent the last 6 years of my life only seeing what I️ wanted to see, despite living the abuse and toxicity. I️ painted the most beautiful picture of him to everyone whilst living the horror.

Never once did I️ label myself in another domestic Abuse relationship. I thought abuse was only ever physical...

For every first, there was countless seconds, thirds and so on. I️ didn’t see him as an abuser at first just an immature crazy guy who lacked experience and maybe needed to grow with time, I️ saw him as my partner, someone I️ needed and someone who needed me. I️ thought I️ could fix him.

That he just needed someone there for him to truly care for him. I️ blurred out those memories every time and continued with the picture of our future. I️ thought if no one knew, it wasn’t a big deal. It was just one of those relationship problems we work on together But he never wanted to because he was only banging me for the cash all along.

For five years I️ tried to help create a better version of a “man”, or at least better than what he started out as. A better image. I stood by his side through every battle imaginable financial & emotional abuse, sexual abuse, pure misogyny countless cheating with now what I believe to be women/transgenders, pathological lying, manipulation, and the list Just could go on. I️ tried to love him every second of those five years.

My love was deeper for him than it was for myself. I️ only saw what I️ wanted to see then whilst battling another nightmare that nobody knew about, Just to lose everything I suffered for but for what? He proved in the end that he never loved me when he discarded me twice in 2019 in the most unceremonious ways... no remorse no empathy just left me in the grave he dug for me...

That’s a question I’m still trying to find an answer for. Towards the end of it all, I️ finally for once in those five years had a feeling of safety, maybe I thought he was the one to save me not destroy me, That maybe there was going to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Just to learn he was probably still cheating on me during our time living together, as he gives me reassurance about the same woman I️ was worried about. Still the same person he was from the start, but I️ kept convincing myself that he would be different After all I sacrificed for him. The sense of safety was just because he got better at playing me. But I finally saw the Megalomanical man whilst we lived together his disorders were so crystal clear...

People don’t understand why people stay in domestic Abusive relationships. That’s because there is no understanding. It’s deeper than the surface, unconditional love is a horrible thing. Love should be conditional. Otherwise you could find yourself like me. 6 years ago I would say it could never be me not again I already suffered at the hands of 2 narcissists on different spectrums beforehand. I’ve defended and tried to help others leave abuse in the past. It’s not something comprehendible until you find yourself living it, and even still than it doesn’t make sense. It’s like you’re blind to you’re own life. Never again will I️ ignore a red flag, think I️ can change a man or love someone more than myself.

Everyday for the last 7 months post discard I have recognized the reality that I spent five years covering up. I️ want to heal, but in order to heal one must hurt. I️ wanted to skip that process, not acknowledge all that truly happened the past five years and only look at the good. I️ won’t do that to myself anymore. The good was only there because of me, because I️ put my everything in and never once did he deserve an ounce of my love.

I’ve kissed this man with a face of tears he caused, I’ve reassured my love for him after he’s hurt me. I’ve been his friend to fight his own demons, despite the amount of hurt it caused me inside. I’ve set aside my own feelings to always care for his. I’ve helped build every part of him while he continued to destroy each part of me. I’ve begged and pleaded for him and watched him be with another woman whilst my heart was breaking to pieces, when it should of been a blessing that he did leave me that time and I should of never of taken him back, trauma bonded or not.

The feelings I had never made sense. I would love this man even after I was terrified of him. I would love this man, but still hide away drinking myself to death every time I felt I knew an argument was coming. I would love this man, but I never trusted him. He showed why I should never trust him. He showed me why I should be afraid of him. He showed me so many things, except a reason to stay... but I still did. This was a man I️ would’ve gave my last breathe for, but chances are he’d be the one taking it from me.

The intent of this book isn’t to just expose him but rather expose the truth behind every cute post or picture I️ splatted for years. For me to acknowledge the truth and the reality. To shed light on domestic violence and how easily it can go unnoticed. Even by the person living it. And for me most of all, to stop protecting my abuser when he chose to be that way and stay that way despite the help I wanted to get him.

I️ am ready to start a new chapter of my life, the only way to do that was to stop skipping over the lines of the last one.

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nerdygreenhouse · 7 years

Text

No Longer Alone CHPTR 2

A Baba Mitsunari fanfiction. @pinksodalover Raven woke up the next day around 1pm, she had been exhausted due to not having slept decently for months. She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes like a child as she yawned. Swinging her legs over the edge, she stood up and headed to the lounge in search of Baba. She found him as said in the lounge, accompanied by two other men, one was a brunette with an arrogant smirk on his lips, as he typed away on his laptop. The other had gelled back, black hair and had his nose buried in a book. Baba looked up at the sound of her footsteps, and smiled once he got sight of her, "You're awake! How'd you sleep?" "Good, I haven't slept that good in a while." She answered, stretching her arms. At the sound of her voice the two men looked up and spotted her. " Why did you bring a teenager to my penthouse? " The brunette asked bluntly, glaring at the girl. "Oh, right! Raven, this is Eisuke. Eisuke, this is Raven. The guy over there reading a book is Soryu." Baba started, before continuing, "She didn't have a place to stay, so I offered her my spare room for the night!" He explained cheerfully, shrugging of the disapproving gazes from both of the men. Turning his attention back to Raven, he stood up. "What do you think about getting some brunch? I can imagine you're hungry." Raven nodded her head in greeting to the two men before answering, "That'd be nice." she said with a small smile playing on her lips. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go princess!" Raven cringed at the nickname, but followed him to the elevator nevertheless. She didn't have to turn around to know that Eisuk and Soryu were glaring at her, she could practically feel their gazes burning a hole into her back. A couple of minutes later they could be seen leaving the hotel, Baba chuckling while Raven grumbled, her hands buried deep into the pocket of her hoodie, "Would you stop calling me princess!?" She exclaimed irritated. Baba placed a hand on his heart, faking a gasp. "How could I not? It's the only worthy name for such a beautiful young lady as yourself." "That doesn't make any sense! The only reason for you to call me princess is if I'm royalty, and believe me," she gave a dry laugh, "I'm not.". They continued their friendly banter as they walked, until Baba suddenly stopped n his tracks. He stared into the shop window in front of them, before pointing at an emerald colored dress in the window. "That'd suit you, go try it on!" He suggested. Raven scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, "I don’t look good in dresses, never have, never will." She said dismissively. "Of course you look good in a dress!" Baba argued, eyeing the dress again. "No, I don't, I'll prove it to you." Raven walked into the shop with Baba right behind her, looking left and right for the dress so she could try it on. After searching for several minutes they finally found it in the back of the store. "Alright, I'll try it on, and after that you'll have to agree I'm right." The teenager said before walking away, to the dressing room on the other side of the store. Sadly is was a Sunday, meaning there was a long line for the dressing room filled with women, and a couple of men dragged into the store, probably against their will, by their girlfriends. Raven rolled her eyes as she waited impatiently for her turn, she really didn't understand why women find it fun to stand in line for often more than ten minutes, with no personal space, only to find it's either not your size, or not your style, and leave the store disappointed, only to repeat the whole cycle again in the next store. After what seemed like an eternity to the girl, although in reality had only been fifteen minutes, it was finally her turn. She rushed to get changed, urgent to get out of the crowded store. Without even looking into the mirror, she left the changing room, and walked back to Baba, who had patiently waited the whole time. "Alright, now do you believe me?" Raven asked, placing her hand on her hip as she stood before him. Baba's eyes widened in shock, before quickly regaining his posture, he had been right, the emerald green sun dress matched her beautiful eyes. The dress had a simple design with a loose skirt and a bow around her waist, accentuating her petite waist. "Have you seen yourself?" Baba exclaimed shocked. "I know, I look ridiculous. " The girl answered, looking away with her arms crossed. Being a tomboy, the girl wasn't used to wearing dresses, and it made the normally confident teen a little self conscious. "On the contrary, you look beautiful! Look for yourself!" The older thief practically dragged her to the most nearby mirror, placing her before it. "See? I'm buying it for you!" "I can't let you do that." Raven shook her head stubbornly, having seen the price tag. Even though she knew Baba was rich, or so she figured, it didn't feel right to let him spend that much money on a dress and besides, what would she do with such a beautiful dress once she was back on the streets? "No, no arguing, I won't listen." He replied kindly but with a firm undertone, leaving no room for arguing. "Now princess, let's pay for this dress and get you something to eat, I can imagine you're hungry." After Baba paid for the dress, they continued their way towards their destination. Just as Baba predicted, Raven had been starving and had eaten much more than him, not that it bothered the man. Baba was currently on his phone, waiting for the teenager to come back from the restroom, so they could leave the bakery. He frowned as he checked the weather forecast for the next couple of days. They predicted a big storm for that evening and the following day. "Hey" the voice made Baba snap out of his thoughts, and he looked up, making eye contact with the raven haired girl. "Hello Princess! I know how we just discussed that we'd part ways after leaving this bakery, but....." Baba started, unsure how to convince the girl without scaring her off. "There is a storm coming tonight, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing a sweet princess like yourself would be out there in the rain, how about you stay at the hotel until the storm passes? " Raven was silent, considering her options. Yes, they had agreed to split ways once they left the bakery and yes, she barely knew the man, but she wasn't exactly excited to spend the night trying (and failing) to hide from the storm. On the other hand, Baba had offered her a good place to stay, and although she still didn't trust him, the idea of having a roof above her head was a lot more appealing than sleeping in the rain, again. "That'd be nice, it's a lot better than sleeping in an abandoned alley." She joked with a grin, although there was a lot of truth in her words. The man frowned at her words, but quickly hid it, replacing his frown with a smile. "Alright, the princess agreed!" He cheered, standing up. "Let's get going before we get caught in the storm." The walk back towards the hotel was filled with Baba joking around while Raven rolled her eyes, trying to suppress the smile crawling on her lips. In the end she gave up, and a small smile played on her lips as they entered the hotel. Four pairs of eyes looked up from the poker game they were currently playing as the elevator dinged, indicating that the doors would open. Eisuke and Soryu glared at the girl next to Baba as the two of them entered the penthouse, while a blonde man with a mischievous grin eyed her with curiosity. Another man glanced up at her with a disinterested look. "Wow Baba, she's a lot younger than the women you usually bring up there." The blond man commented, earning a warning glare from Baba. Raven crossed her arms at the comment, not the slightest amused. "Excuse me?!" The girl exclaimed, close to losing her temper. Baba placed a hand on Ravens shoulder in hopes of calming her down, which thankfully worked as the teen relaxed with a small huff of disapproval escaping her lips. "Ota, don't speak to a pincess like that!" He exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart feigning shock, but with a serious, almost treathening undertone in his voice. "This is Raven, she's staying here until the storm passes." He added, as he started to explain the situation. "I'm going to my room." The teen announced, before heading of to her room, still a bit tired after days of not getting a good nights sleep. She fell asleep soon after she layed down on the bed, and woke up an hour later, thirsty. Raven stood up, still a bit groggy before heading over to the penthouse. "I'm telling you, she is using you!" Raven stopped in her tracks at those words, recognising the voice of the blonde who had spoken up earlier. "She might have been living on the streets, but she knows you're rich and she knows you're generous. Tell me, why she wouldn't use that to her advantage?" "Get her out of here, I don't want her to bother me or wreak havoc in my hotel," Eisuke spoke up harshly, not bothering to look up from his laptop screen. "I don’t need some homeless nobody inviting all her friends over." Soryu nodded his head, agreeing with his best friend. "He's right, she'll only be a nuisance." "Ota, Raven is not a gold digger, but a girl who only takes what she needs to in order to survive. Eisuke, she is not a nobody, she is a person. Soryu, she'll never be a nuisance. Not now, not ever." The usual cheerful tone in Baba's voice had been replaced by a cold, threatening one. " I've invited her to stay here, and she's welcome to stay here as long as she wants." With those last words the bidders knew that the thief normally cheerful thief was dead serious, and even the great Eisuke Ichinomiya knew better than to mess with the man once he got determined like this. The young CEO agreed with a scowl on his face, hating the fact that the older man had won. "Fine, but she better leave me alone." "It's a kid, how much damage can she do?" A gruff voice, laced with sleep joined the conversation. Raven assumed it was the dark grey haired man whom she had seen sitting with the other poker players, since he was the only one who hadn't spoken up yet. The young teen had been moved by Baba's words as he stood up for her, a girl he barely knew. She then realized the man had truly never had any bad intentions, and all he wanted was for her to have a safe place to live. With the new found knowledge Raven took a step forward, revealing herself to the five men as she made a decision. Baba's face lighted up at the moment he saw her, and beckoned her over with the wave of his hand. "Princess! Did you sleep well?" He asked as she walked towards the group of men. "I did." The girls answer was short and curt, it reminded Baba of Soryu. "I've been thinking, it sure is nice to be able to sleep under a roof once again..." Raven began, her voice trailing off. "If your offer still stands, I'd like to stay here permanently." Bob stood up with a huge grin on his face,"really? I promise you won't regret your decision! " he looked like an excited child, not like the mature adult he was supposed to be as he started rambling on about all the things they'd have to do, from customizing her room, to going clothes shopping. Raven just watched the thief ramble, alongside the other bidders, who weren't nearly as thrilled as Baba, except for the one napping on the couch, he had no idea about the new addition to their group. Baba suddenly stopped rambling, as if he suddenly realised something important. He turned towards Raven, flashing her a genuine smile. "Welcome to your new home."

#kbtbb #eisuke ichinomiya #kbtbb eisuke #kissed by the baddest bidder #soryu oh #kbtbb soryu #baba mitsunari #baba kbtbb #kissed by the baddest bidder Baba #No longer alone

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chellyfishing · 7 years

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telling a violent story vs using violence as a story

i really want to write this essay but as usual i don’t have the spoons for doing it justice so it’s pretty much just extemporaneous word dumping. anyway.

every story has a different tone about where they draw the line with violence and death. you can probably think of a lot of examples of both ends of the scale. there’s a misconception that being higher up on the violence/death end of the scale is more adult and more realistic, which ps is bullshit thanks bye. if anything it’s a sign of immaturity but that’s sort of beside the point atm.

the point i wanna make is this: it’s not a secret that i have strong feelings about killing off major or otherwise sympathetic characters. i have an opinion about this that differs from the majority in that i don’t like a character dying in order to motivate another character. it’s tacky. it’s cheap. it’s boring. it’s overdone. and a character can motivate another character while like. still being alive? weird right? live characters always present more options than dead ones. (obviously discussions of character death but also #rape mention ahead.)

to me character death should be a result rather than strictly a catalyst. think about ASoIaF, which is much more violent and upsetting than my typical tastes lean but credit where it’s due, GRRM knows how to do character death. when you know they’re coming, it becomes incredibly obvious. choices, circumstances, motivations all come together to create this unavoidable moment. nothing exists in a vacuum. in ASoIaF, death is a result and a catalyst, but not purely for character motivation; rather, it changes the game itself, leading to a domino effect. ned’s death at the end of AGoT is unavoidable, and it turns things on their heads (heheh) for everybody. the red wedding is built up to for a long time, and obviously that goes on to have huge repercussions. so, counterintuitively, one of the most violent stories in the zeitgeist right now is, for the most part (not a perfect record) is telling a violent story without necessarily using violence as a substitute for a story.

contrast with GoT, which throws in rape and gore like glitter to accent their teenage/twenty-something boy hypermasculine wank power fantasy. GoT is at the other end and it’s super gross and disturbing.

one of the best-known and most prolific offenders of “death because death” is joss whedon. it seems to be the only way he knows how to create shocking “plot twists” and heavy emotional drama. and the worst of the worst sins was tara macclay on buffy. the thing about joss is that he thinks he’s being incredibly clever surprising his audience with this stuff. he’s said as much himself. there is no effort to build up to it. it’s just, well, nobody’s died for a little while so idk find something to impale someone on. tara’s death was everything death in fiction should not be. first of all she was a lesbian, and one in a happy relationship to boot. need say no more. second of all she was literally caught in the crossfire. the bullet that killed her was meant for someone else and it just happened to strike her down instead with no effort or chance to save her. third, it had to happen so willow could be evil for a bit. and fourth, most obnoxiously, that episode was the first and only time amber benson appeared in the opening credits. this was done deliberately. i wish i could find the quote but alas. to the best of my recollection joss said they wanted to do something like this with another character, possibly jenny calendar, but were unable. it was fully planned well ahead of time to “trick” the audience, which is kind of... sad? that you feel the need to resort to a meta trick like that to maximize shock value? (oh, and don’t even fucking start me on dr. horrible’s and penny. ffs, joss. that didn’t even fit the fucking tone. fuck.)

there are more examples (i am looking directly at you, the 100) but i think those two pretty much put the cap on that point.

death in a story can be important and moving without making the audience feel cheated. HIMYM is largely a light-hearted romantic comedy, but it’s also one about transitioning to adulthood and what that means. and unfortunately, adulthood often means unexpectedly losing loved ones. the death of marshall’s father was surprising, but less than to motivate marshall in some way, it’s more to clarify that adulthood means loss as much as it means gain. it means change more than anything. also story-wise it was a good choice of character, as marvin had deep important connections to a character we loved without leaving a gaping void full of what might have been.

wynonna earp is another story that knows where to draw the line. most of the “victims” are cartoon villains who are inhuman and already dead. the framing of the story leaves us no reason to have sympathy for these literal monsters. when a more sympathetic or humanized character has to go, it’s because there’s no other choice, and each time rather than being a motivator for wynonna, we can see instead the psychological toll it takes on her. she is someone who is surrounded by death, the one with this burden to make the hard decisions and pull the trigger. she killed her father on accident when she was just 11. she’s forced to kill beloved shorty, who is pretty much family and one of the few people who didn’t think she was trash, in order to save him and potentially a lot more. levi and fish were mercy kills that forced her to confront the fact that these monsters truly were once human. and in the finale she gets a double whammy: willa’s betrayal leaves her once again turning her gun on a family member and fatally pulling the trigger. we’re even relieved to see her shoot bobo, not just because she has to if she ever wants to break the curse but because again there’s another dimension to it, maybe even a tinge of mercy. bobo is not exactly sympathetic, but he is someone with dimension, someone we know. willa pretty much had to go story-wise, if nothing else she was a threat to wynonna’s position as the heir and the show is called wynonna earp. but her death also tied into the themes of the show: how to make and live with hard choices, how to stand up and be the one to do the unthinkable because you’re the only one and you have to, whether you want to or not, how to be the one who bears the hate of the very people you’re sacrificing everything to save.

and of course, i can’t not address harry potter, which i think is hit or miss. surprisingly i think cedric’s death was well-done and important, because it was shocking without being done for shock value, and because it was a result: a result of cedric being honorable and good and at the wrong end of the wand of a man who feels nothing about killing anything not useful to him. and ironically, it should have been a catalyst, but it wasn’t, but that’s its own story: the warning everyone failed to listen to, at their own peril. some deaths were organic in that jkr herself went against her plans once she realized what made more sense for the story. iirc, she’s on record as saying arthur weasley was originally meant to die when he’s attacked in ootp, but she spared him at the last minute. he didn’t need to die, it wouldn’t have added to the story, and killing arthur weasley is like joss whedon-level bullshit. on the other hand, she initially intended to let snape live (again iirc) but here she backed herself in a corner. snape was another result. it became obvious that according to the story there simply wasn’t a feasible way to save him, even if in context his death was for nothing. and of course la pièce de résistance, dumbledore, who is GRRM levels of inevitable and necessary.

i feel different ways about other deaths. they mostly happened for the sake of happening, to remind us it’s a war and people die in wars and she wanted faces and names we knew. that’s fair, as it goes. and i don’t begrudge the fact that she didn’t stop to dwell over some of them, because again, war, chaos, you don’t have time to grieve as it happens. but like. fred? i feel a little cheated. lupin and tonks? especially transparent and... unfulfilling. it was like bringing them together was done only to produce teddy, and then they became more useful dead first so harry would be more important to teddy and also because lupin needed to be there with harry in the woods alongside the rest of the marauders. i think of all the deaths these ones are the ones that bother me the most. just... really... meaningless.

also, the movie feeling the need to go a step further and giving us a nice close-up of lavendar brown’s very dead face because... aesthetic? it’s more ambiguous in the book, and even pottermore can’t seem to decide which way to go. it’s so irrelevant that people can’t agree it even happened.

death isn’t the only kind of violence in fiction or necessarily even the worst, but it is the one that’s always on hand like a tissue to grab as you need and the one that is abused by unimaginative writers who just... can’t think of how else to move the story forward. i do think there is a place for stories that involve rape, because it’s real and just like any other group survivors need to see themselves acknowledged as being real and more than their trauma. i don’t really feel too comfortable speaking for survivors here tbh but i do know that all of us need stories to keep us from feeling isolated and unworthy. but i cringe at the idea that it’s just something that happens to women and therefore let’s add it here, here, here, and here. using it as a turning point for the survivor like assault is enlightening and transformative is gross. using it as a turning point for someone else, usually a man, is A WHOLE LOT GROSSER.

also i just realized i didn’t get into tarantino, but i’m too tired for the kind of analysis his work requires. anyway one of the things i liked about kill bill, for example, is that the violence is so over-the-top that in places it’s comical. the whole film is just so extra. afaik that’s what tarantino was going for.

quick shout-out to snk: my favorite comedy. when this first came out it was hailed as The Best Thing Of The Year, it was SO GOOD, so quality. anyway so i finally got around to watching it. i watched it twice in relative succession in fact. and i laughed a lot. you can ask @second-stringer, she was like “oh my god, i’m in a room with a sociopath.” snk is so extra, but i... don’t think that’s what it was going for. i think it was going for shock! and drama! and plot twists! and look at all that blood and gore and dead people! this is obviously Very Mature! i feel so cool and grown-up watching it! and (sorry, not to get passive aggressive at my mutuals who were into it at any point, this is honestly about conversations i had with or read between people not on tumblr/in other contexts) the general trend was the raves were coming from the younger and frequently male audience. like it was the usual kind of thing where you couldn’t be like, are you... serious? didn’t you find it kind of... ridiculous? because you would be mobbed by rabid fanboys eager to mansplain that i don’t know i stopped listening. anyway, the steep decline in worship for the series over time leaves me feeling smug and satisfied. i actually might still watch it out of morbid curiosity and in the hopes that it’s as funny or, prayer circle, even funnier.

in conclusion, bobby has an email from me that includes a lot of yelling, “DON’T KILL THE LESBIAN. DON’T FUCKING DO IT.” this is my contribution to the cause.

#deep thoughts #this got long

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

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Creighton Chapter 1

COUNTRY STAR JC HUGHES CAUGHT BETWEEN A COCK AND A HARD PLACE

How is he going to explain this one away to girlfriend Selena Wix and his fans?

“That two-timin’ son of a . . .”

I hiss under my breath as I stare at the headline—and the compromising picture accompanying it—splashed in vivid color across the front page of the gossip rag displayed prominently in the checkout line at my supermarket. For the second time in two months, it’s a picture of my “boyfriend” locked in an unmistakably passionate embrace with another woman, except this time she’s wearing a giant black strap-on.

The edges of the paper crumple in my sweaty grip, and I fight the urge to tear it to shreds, along with every copy sitting on the rack in front of me.

He’s going to destroy my career before it even has a chance to become a reality.

One year, they said. One year in this joke of a “relationship” and I’d earn my stripes, be all set in the world of country music. Judge me all you want for agreeing, but when your brand-new record label puts something like that in the contract that will jet you out of the backwoods town you’re dying to escape, you don’t ask questions. You sign on the dotted line.

But reality is a cold slap in the face, and some days it hits you when you’re standing in line at the grocery store. What happens when they finally catch JC with a guy? His habit of swinging both ways, but preferring men to women, is about to become the worst-kept secret in Nashville.

I’m Selena Wix, winner of a make-me-a-star TV show, and handpicked by the label to buoy JC’s once-impressive but now flagging career. It didn’t seem like a big deal when they slipped it into my contract in the beginning. What starry-eyed girl wouldn’t be thrilled to have her name linked to a country star?

Instead of the one-way ticket to stardom I naively expected, I’m becoming the butt of every industry joke faster than the guys back home can spend their paycheck on twelve-packs and scratch-offs. But I’ve got one shot at keeping this dream career alive, and honestly, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to save it. So this situation with JC needs to get settled before things spiral further out of control.

Tugging the bill of my trucker hat lower, I glance around to see if anyone has noticed me flipping out in the checkout line. A woman behind me clucks her tongue as she pulls her sunglasses out of her baby’s mouth.

Crap.

That cluck of her tongue was aimed at me, not the toothless, blue-eyed, smiling baby. Surprisingly, though, the expression on her face is sympathetic, not angry.

“Men are assholes, am I right? Being famous just makes them bigger ones.”

I smile weakly, and she continues. “Don’t believe everything you read in the papers, doll. They’re always ninety-five percent bullshit. Probably Photoshopped. He should have his head examined if he’s cheating on you.”

Snapping my gaze back to her, I read recognition all over her face, despite my hat, glasses, complete lack of makeup, and relatively low level of fame. I force a smile onto my face, but it feels awkward and fake.

“It’s called a gossip rag for a reason, I guess?” I reply, failing at my attempt to inject some humor into my tone.

She nods and gestures to the half dozen bottles of wine in her cart. “This probably sounds crazy forward, but you look like you could use a drink and someone to vent to.”

Vent to a perfect stranger I met in the grocery store? That would be insane, not to mention dangerous. If I did, the “she said” side of the story would be splashed all over tomorrow’s papers, and the label would kill me—the painful death of breach of contract and being blackballed in the industry.

I already used up strike one the first time a picture of JC hit the papers. I marched right into Homegrown Records’ offices and told them their devil’s deal wasn’t worth it, and that I wouldn’t help JC’s career at the expense of my own.

Their response? If I didn’t turn around, march my ass right back out of the office, and paste a smile on my face, they’d yank me off my tour, and I’d be a has-been before I ever got the chance to become a someone.

I’d go to bat for my career any day of the week, but faced with the threat of losing it, I’m ashamed to say I backed down and toed the company line. You only get one shot at your dream. It’s not something I’m willing to let go . . . regardless of how much of my pride I might have to swallow. Which brings me back to the gossip rag and the woman in front of me.

An awkward silence stretches between us in the checkout line as all the scenarios swirl through my brain of how I can reply to her. Finally, she smiles, and there’s something kind and knowing in her expression.

“I know what you’re thinking—you can’t spill your side of the story to anyone. Too risky.” She lifts her hand and flashes a giant rock on her left ring finger. “But I’m not just anyone. I’ve been on the front page of the tabloids too, and I know exactly how much it sucks. After being married for a decade to the biggest reformed horndog of them all, I’m no stranger to any of it. On top of that, I’d never break the vows of sisterhood.”

My gaze darts from the giant diamond to her face. Studying her makeup-free features, it finally hits me. “You’re Tana Vines.”

Tana Vines was the Female Country Artist of the Year about ten years back, and her husband was awarded Entertainer of the Year at least four or five times during that time. They’re country music legends. A true power couple.

She holds out her hand and I shake it, operating purely on instinct.

“Yes, I am,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you, Selena Wix.”

Two bottles of wine later, Tana and I lay sprawled on chaise lounges beside her indoor pool. Behind the gated walls, and in the presence of someone I listened to on the radio in junior high, I finally have a chance to unburden all the crap that has been filling my head for months.

“Six more months? That’s a hell of a long time to put up with JC’s bullshit. Not to mention keeping your own legs closed. Good Lord, girl. Aren’t you dying to get some dick?” Tana asked.

An embarrassed laugh escapes my lips. “Um, I’ve been pretty preoccupied with learning the ropes, I guess.”

“Well, shit. I’d be dying for dick.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize my position with the label. I have a feeling that if my picture ended up in the paper the way JC’s has, the double standards would have me out on my butt so fast, I couldn’t even yell ‘Bingo!’ first.”

Tana rolls onto her side and faces me. “That’s probably the truth, but it don’t make it fair. The only reason they’re covering his ass is the shelf of awards he’s got from five years ago, and all the money they’ve got invested in him. You’re the perfect image booster. But you’re right—you’re expendable if you step out of line.”

I already looked up to Tana as a country idol, but now I have to say I have a bit of a girl crush. She doesn’t sugarcoat anything, and it’s refreshing in this world of people who say one thing and mean something completely different.

“Who’s expendable?”

A deep voice echoes through the pool room as Mick Vines walks in. The man—a living country legend—picks up one of the empty bottles on the table between our lounge chairs. “And damn, Tana. I’ve been lookin’ for you for a half hour.”

“Gemma knew where I was.” Gemma, I learned, was Tana and Mick’s live-in nanny.

Tana sits up as Mick sets the bottle down and leans over to press a kiss to her lips.

“There. Been lookin’ for that. My little bit a sugar.”

I turn my head away as Tana wraps her hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in for another kiss, this one not nearly so innocent. She doesn’t seem to care that I’m intruding on their intimate moment. And it’s a moment that makes me wish even more that I wasn’t trapped in this mess.

Not that I’m looking for what they have—because I’m truly not. I’m not looking for that kind of happily-ever-after for a good five or ten years. I’m too young for that, and my focus is on my career, exactly where it’s supposed to be when you’re standing on the edge of achieving the dream you’ve had since you were ten years old.

But even on that edge, I’m still only a puppet with the label pulling the strings. Six months in, and I’m already sick and tired of being yanked in the directions they want me to go. What could I accomplish if only I could cut those tethers and come into my own? But slicing those ties would mean sacrificing what I’ve already accomplished, and that’s not an option.

Mick stands tall again and notices me for the first time. “Who’s our guest, babe?”

It’s much less of a surprise that he doesn’t recognize me than it was for Tana to make the connection. Honestly, I’m still a nobody in this industry. I’m working my tail off on becoming a somebody, and I’ve got fans, but to someone at Mick Vines’s level, I’ll always be a nobody.

I smile and hold out my hand. “Selena Wix.”

His eyes narrow as he shakes my outstretched hand. “I’ve heard your name. Why have I heard your name?”

I’m stunned that there’s even a hint of recognition in him. My stomach turns in big flopping waves, and Tana jumps in, saving me from bumbling whatever explanation is about to fall from my lips.

“I picked up Selena in the checkout line while we bonded over how much it blows to see yourself on the front of a gossip rag.”

Mick’s gaze narrows further before it lights with knowledge. “Wix. You’re the hot young thing JC Hughes has on his arm these days.”

I cringe at the description, because that’s not how I want to be known. But that’s what happens when you sign a deal with the devil.

Tana slaps his thigh from her seated position. “And she’s touring with Boone Thrasher because she’s the hottest new talent to hit the stage since Carrie and Miranda.”

Her adamant statement throws me for a loop, and those nervous waves in my belly glimmer with pride.

Mick rocks back on the heels of his tooled black leather boots. “Ain’t heard her sing yet, but I’ve sure seen her picture.”

I wince, pride doused.

“And that’s the problem. The label has backed her into a corner, and they’ve made the JC situation a requirement. She can’t get out of it,” Tana explains.

Mick studies me. “Who you with, girl?”

“Homegrown. They signed me when I won Country Dreams.”

“Ah.” Mick nods twice. “Now I know where I first heard your name. And you probably signed a devil’s bargain to get your ‘million-dollar recording contract’ after you won.”

It isn’t even a question. Mick knows how the game is played.

“It was that or keep working at a bowling alley in BFE, Kentucky, and never taking my shot. At least this got me to Nashville.”

He raises a hand. “No need to get defensive. I’m not judging. We all take the route we need to take to get here, but that means living with the consequences. How long are you stuck with this JC bullshit? I’m assuming you have to suck it up and smile on his arm to help shine up his image and get some good press. Besides, we all know he’s been on the edge of casino-playing retirement for a more than a few years now.”

Dang. Mick really does know how the game is played. I guess you couldn’t be in Nashville as long as he has without learning all the pitfalls.

“Six months,” Tana offers. “And it’s not like when our managers hooked us up. JC doesn’t seem to care either way if he hurts Selena’s career.”

I swivel my head around to stare at Tana. “I didn’t know that you . . .” I glance back to Mick. “Really? Your relationship started out as a publicity stunt?”

Tana laughs. “Of course it did. Why else do you think I’d get involved with such a man-whore? I needed some street cred, and he was getting all the wrong kinds of press for sleeping with everything with tits.”

“Jesus, baby. That’s ancient history—and we kept that shit quiet for a reason.”

“I’m just saying that sometimes it actually works out fine,” Tana says.

Mick shakes his head. “Back to the point of this conversation.” Aiming his stare at me, he continues. “You could be fucked in six months if JC keeps this shit up. You’ve got sympathy on your side right now, but if you keep laying down and taking it, you’re just going to look like a fool.”

Tana slaps his thigh again. “Not helping.”

Her husband reaches down and grabs her hand. “Quit, woman, or I’ll spank your ass even harder tonight.”

Tana’s face flushes a bright red, and I decide to let the comment go without trying to figure out exactly what they’re talking about.

Mick releases her hand and grabs the magazine shoved between the wine bottles. “This the rag with the cheating dick?”

Shaking her head, Tana grabs it from his hand. “Nope, that’s the one with the hot billionaire dick I’m going to marry if you decide to leave me for some country starlet.”

I catch a glimpse of the cover. It’s a copy of Forbes, and there’s a stupidly handsome dark-haired man on the cover.

The headline reads: JUSTIN KARAS CRUSHES COMPETITION.

“What are you talking about, woman? You’d bury me out back if I so much as looked at another woman,” Mick grumbles.

Tana’s lyrical laugh echoes off the walls. “Damn right, and don’t you forget it.”

I snatch the magazine out of his hand to get a closer look.

“Whoa, girl. Calm down.”

I wave him off, the wine dulling the instincts that would otherwise have me continuing to bow and scrape in his country-music royalty presence.

“Shhh. I need to look at him.” I’m not sure why I need silence to do that, but apparently the large bottle of wine I drank says I do.

The man is gorgeous, but he looks cocky and arrogant. I flip the magazine open and page through it until I find another picture of him.

I win because losing isn’t an option.

—Justin Karas

I know I’m truly drunk when the only thought filtering through my brain is how much I’d like to be his prize when he’s winning. Where the hell did that come from? And like I’d even know what to do with a man like that. He’s so far out of my league, it’s not even funny.

I glance over at Mick and Tana, who are once again locked in a tangle of lips and limbs.

And . . . that’s my cue to leave.

I slap the magazine shut and rise on shaky legs. “I should probably get going.”

Tana pulls away from Mick and raises an eyebrow in my direction. “Honey, you ain’t driving anywhere. I’ll go make up a guest room. It’s the very least I can do since I got you shitfaced.”

“Not necessary. I should get home. I have . . . a plant that needs water. Or something.”

I squint because I can’t remember if my plant is dead or alive. I haven’t watered it in as long as I can remember. Apparently I’m thinking too hard about plants, which might be alive or dead, and not concentrating on my balance because I tip forward.

Mick catches me with an outstretched palm. “Come on, honey. We’re putting you up tonight. Won’t hear anything different.”

He turns me around and marches me toward the door that leads into the sprawling mansion. “Besides, it seems like someone needs to take you under their wing so you don’t get chewed up and spit out by this bitch of an industry. My wife isn’t exactly the type to bring home strays, so she must’ve seen something in you needing a little protection. We’re gonna make sure you have it.”

My eyes burn, and I blink back the unexpected tears. I’ve been in this town for six months, essentially friendless, and in one night I’ve apparently been adopted by two people I never thought I would ever have a chance to meet.

“G’night, Selena. I’ll see you in the morning, sweets,” Tana calls from behind me.

Apart from those blissful moments standing onstage, for the first time in months I have a genuine smile on my face, and I feel like I belong somewhere.

It doesn’t last long.

“We’ll put your ass on a bus back to Podunk if you don’t toe the line, Wix. That bowling alley you used to sing at? They won’t even let you back onstage when I’m done tearing you apart,” Morty, the jerk-off record exec, rails at me in the conference room of Homegrown Records.

It’s been two months since the night I met Tana, and JC has managed to land in the paper three more times. I can’t let this stand any longer. I’ve officially become the laughingstock of Nashville, and I can’t take any more pitying looks from the guys on my tour.

When the bus pulled into town this morning, I went directly to Tana’s house first. We’ve kept in touch, and every time I’ve been back in town on a break, she’s made time to get together. It’s the first real friendship I’ve had since Mary Jane Devo married her Marine sweetheart and moved to Hawaii almost two years ago.

I’m not the kind of girl who makes friends easily—mostly because I work as much as I can, and I never have extra money to go shopping or get a pedicure. But now when it matters, and I’m living in a new town and knee-deep in a business where I’m not sure who I can trust, Tana has been a lifesaver.

Her advice was to tell them to fuck off and take my chances. So this morning I grew a pair of lady balls and marched into the office to tell them to screw this JC nonsense because it isn’t worth it.

I just didn’t plan on JC being there too.

“What the hell do you have to complain about?” he says, leaning back in the cushy leather conference room chair. “You’re getting plenty of press. Maybe you’re still too green to realize it, but there ain’t no such thing as bad publicity.”

I want to smack the smug look off JC’s face. He’s baiting me, just waiting to see if I’ll push Morty any further and get myself thrown back on that bus to Podunk.

“Well, in this case, I think you’re wrong,” I say, holding my chin high. “Crushing my career doesn’t seem like good business.”

JC laughs. “You’re just gettin’ started, sweetheart. This is the best thing that ever happened to you. I guess I can try to be a little more discreet . . . ,” he says, glancing at Morty.

Morty nods. “Good, then we’re done here.”

Oh no. No, we are not done here.

“I don’t think so,” I say, and point at JC. “He needs a babysitter to keep it in his pants, not a pretend girlfriend. If you want to save his career, why don’t you focus on putting out more hits, not on his love life?”

“I love when you talk about me like I’m not even here, baby,” JC drawls. “Maybe I’ll write a love song for you. How’d ya like that?”

He was patronizing me. I’ve never been exactly sure what that word means, but I’m pretty sure this is it.

“Don’t call me—” I start.

“Girl, if you don’t—” Morty interrupts, most likely to threaten me some more, but Jim, his partner, jumps to his feet and presses both hands to the solid wood surface of the conference room table.

We both shut up and look his way.

“You know, I think we’re going about this all the wrong way,” Jim says, nodding and looking very much like a man with a plan.

Relief filters through me at the hope that Jim might be seeing some sense. But my hope and relief are doused just as quickly as he continues.

“I don’t think it’s less of a relationship that we need for you two, but more.”

What in the world? More?

I look at JC, but he looks puzzled too.

“Go on,” he says. “I can’t wait to hear this idea.”

I’m pretty sure I could wait the rest of my life and never hear this idea and be perfectly happy. This is probably the moment I should march out of the room and search for some time rewinding device, because I have a feeling things are about to go from bad to worse for me.

Jim looks from JC to me and then back to Morty, his eyes lighting with excitement. “JC and Selena will get engaged; it’ll be perfect. We can set it up so it’s all public.”

He pauses and rubs his hands together like a kid on Christmas morning. “New Year’s Eve. That’s it. Boone and Selena’s tour will be on break, and JC, we got you that spot on Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve. You can propose at midnight, and it’ll be fucking brilliant PR.”

As my chest tightens in horror, Jim looks at me. “The press will forget about all this bullshit in the papers because they love a good celebrity romance. JC will put out a statement about how he’s been sorting through some things, but now he has his priorities in line and he’s ready to move forward.”

No, this is not happening.

“What?”

My voice, which is capable of hitting some pretty earsplitting high notes when necessary, screeches through the conference room, and for a moment I hope I have the vocal capacity to shatter the glass door.

I don’t.

I look at JC, who has slapped his hands over his ears. “Whoa, girl. Easy on the ears.”

“You can’t agree to this!” I yell. “This is insane!”

Morty slaps the table. “Jesus fucking Christ, Wix. Calm the hell down. It’s not like you have to marry the man. Just pretend to be engaged for four months. Maybe longer, depending on how things go.”

I bite my lip until the coppery tang of blood fills my mouth. It’s the only way I can stop myself from screaming and cursing them out. And maybe, you know, murdering them. I’m from the backwoods; I know how to hide bodies.

One phrase repeats in my head: Maybe longer?

Four months. That’s what’s left of my contract. Four. Months. And then Homegrown won’t own my soul. Oh, they could still try to blackball me, but they won’t have a legal hold over me.

I can’t do this. JC will never agree, either. Right?

I walk around the table to JC and sit down next to him. “You can’t think this is a good idea. You can’t go along with this.”

JC just smiles his easy good-ole-boy smile and lays his hand over mine. “You ever worn a strap-on before, baby? Because I think we can make this work. Country music’s power couple. Fuck, maybe even a real weddin’ and everything.” His eyes rake me up and down. “You’re lookin’ a hell of a lot sexier than the last time I saw you, so why the hell not?”

Oh. My. God.

I yank my hand out from under his. “Never. No way in hell.”

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thejustmaiden · 4 years

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Ugh, I'm tired of my blogs disappearing from the tags! So I'm copying and pasting my answer to this ask I received and posting it again with a few tweaks! The ask reads:

"I've seen so many shippers say that sesshomaru would be such a terrible parent because he didn’t give her shoes or didn’t prevent her death and that’s why it’s not a father-daughter relationship. Yet also claim that he loved her and proposes to her (drama cd 12 year old girl) and somehow those same arguments don’t count? There’s no leg to stand on to argue that sesshomaru and rin were romantic because that’s literally pedophilia, so the only thing they can do is claim he was a terrible guardian?"

Hey anon, thanks for the ask! Hope I can help. :)

1. He supposedly proposes to her (even when she's still only a child)

2. He's not like a father to her anyway so that's totally acceptable

I mean, just look at the large portion of fan art out there for Sesshomaru and young!Rin (not S*ssrin). He's usually fondly embracing Rin or comforting her like a GOOD father or male guardian/caretaker would. So somebody please explain to me why Sesshomaru is only sweet or loving to Rin when it's convenient to your narrative but not ours? You can't just take an angle on their relationship and bend it at your will to justify him being a terrible demon father who didn't know how to protect a young human girl on one hand, but then show and share all this fan art of him doing the exact opposite on the other! It just makes no sense at all. You can't have your cake and eat it too!

So knowing all that we know about what they've endured together, I'd like to believe that Rin could never ever develop romantic feelings for her main male role model, because whether he was physically there for her less than Jaken was is irrelevant here. What it comes down to is that Sesshomaru is the one she really looked (up) to since that day he brought her back to life. He has protected and cared for her the best way he's been able to and in a way everyone else in her life failed to before. It's safe to assume that Sesshomaru filled that role as you can tell that she finally felt safe and loved for the first time in her life. Now if Rin were to start to become sexually attracted to this demon who basically came to represent everything she lacked in a family, then I'd be deeply troubled and concerned for her mental health. And the same thing applies to Sesshomaru.

I would hope that whenever I have children someday, that they would never become physically intimate with whomever was their babysitter back when they were little. Nah, that man would be arrested!! He was around to watch her grow up and the thought of that being sexualized or romanticized, even if it wasn't intentional, makes me sick. I don't care if she's a consenting adult who is free to make her own decisions or that he's a demon so it's different (it's not), because I guarantee you this is not an image any of us ever want to picture when you really put this into a perspective you can better relate to and understand! And I didn't even choose an example with a father. I mean, can you even imagine that? Yeah, I rather not either.....

Recently, another user on here nicely pointed out to me that an adult can form loving relationships with children and it not be considered a parental one. At that moment, it was like a little light bulb went off in my head!!!! Yessss, this is so true and I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier!! Because all that S*ssrin shippers like to repeat over and over again to us (as well as to themselves), is that Sesshomaru was not Rin's father. So fine, hypothetically speaking, let's say he isn't her adoptive father. That still doesn't take away from the truth that he was very much invested in the overall safety and well-being of this young girl. He contributed to her care even if it was just passing a message along to Jaken before taking off again. I was a teacher for a few years, and the love and affection I had for those children was real, even if I wasn't their parent and I didn't see them every day. That doesn't change the fact that I would've done absolutely anything in my power to keep them safe-- I would've even gone to the underworld and back!!! You know, kinda like that one character we keep discussing who was allegedly such a bad dad. 😉

#inuyasha #hanyo no yashahime #anti sessrin #asks #repost

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