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nana-dear · 3 years

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cat s/o headcanons

synopsis — While wandering through the forest, a lonely witch stumbles upon a magnificent castle. Disguised as a feline, you decide to explore the mesmerizing edifice, and during your small adventure end up meeting certain dorm leader...

character — Riddle Rosehearts, Leona King Scholar & Malleus Draconia.

note — Really long headcanons, it's my first writing ever. Please do not hesitate to share criticism!

part two

Heartslabyul must be the best place for a cat.

The gardens are so beautiful and peaceful, and most of it’s students are used to treating animals anyway.

But your favorite part was the tea parties. Cater allowed you to sit at the table and gave you milk and ice cream. He liked to play with you and take pictures for his Magicam.

Most students would play with you and give you small treats. But your favorite had to be the strict dorm leader.

Your first encounter with Riddle was far from pleasant, since he kept trying to get you out of the dorm. “You must not bring cats into areas of festivity!”, he would yell at Cater every time he found him spoiling you.

Leaving Heartslabyul was unimaginable! You adored all the affection and the free cake. That’s why your goal became “seducing the hardheaded leader with your feline charms”.

Cute tricks and the begging eyes you practiced for hours in front of the mirror weren’t enough. He would softly get you out of the way. You couldn’t even purr against his legs because the moment you got close, he grabbed you and walked to the entrance.

Maybe if you demonstrated you weren’t just a regular cat.

Each day before leaving your house, you started wearing adorable ribbons in the color scheme of the dorm. You also brought him presents like tea bags and crystals. Stuff your mother wouldn’t miss too much.

You went from giving the paw to more elaborate performances: balancing tea cups in your head, jumping from someone’s shoulders to land in someone else’s, and each time someone asked for something, you would bring it to them.

Riddle had to cede, not because he was convinced but mostly because watching you making such an effort made him feel guilty. Also, the students began addressing you as “the dorm’s pet”.

Slowly, the redhead gained a liking to you. He stopped complaining when you rested on his lap. He even helped you fix the lace you put so recklessly around your neck, and if he saw a pretty lace in Sam’s shop, he would buy it just for you. At the beginning, he didn’t really care about the seemingly arbitrary presents you carried in your mouth, but later kept them safe in a box.

Cater and him were actually talking about getting you a collar with something cute, like a bell or a ribbon. Trey once said it would be nice to give you something with a rose.

Other students also planned on making a place for you to stay, with a comfy bed and maybe a house.

But everyone assumed you already had an owner since you always left.

Once, they attached a note to your neck in hopes of receiving a response, but no one answered.

You just liked Riddle a lot. It felt safe whenever he gently patted your head. He always set a tea plate just for you, and soon found which desserts were your favorite. When he felt comfortable enough to let you follow him around the school, you would sit patiently behind him while he studied. He was such a dedicated person, and you admired him.

Your friendship had gone so far you once made him a bracelet with embroidery floss, and of course, you had one of your own, but he had no way to know.

One day, a rare one where your mother was home, she talked to you about a sort of convention for wizards. People would go to hear about new discoveries in the subject and meet knowledgeable magicians.

“It’s the perfect opportunity for you to start hanging out with other skilled witches,” she told you, “I think it’s about time you get used to this stuff, who knows, maybe in the future you can accompany me to other business.”

Excited was way too casual to describe you, you were shivering from eagerness. You couldn’t sleep on the nights before the event, so instead you endlessly practiced your lines and reactions.

When the awaited day came, you spent the whole thing following your mother, hearing and watching everything with fascination.

Your mom sat with other experts as you stood behind her chair. You were curiously eyeing everyone on the table when you glimpsed red hair…

Eyes opening as big as they could, you stayed the whole meeting hiding your face between your mother’s books and papers as if you were busy. But every time you watched him just a little, you noticed his confused gaze.

During a brief pause, you didn’t have the time to run away because he immediately stood up and walked to you. “I believe they have not introduced us...” he smiled fondly, looking expectant.

But all you could do was stutter. Noticing your nervous behaviour, your mom didn’t waste a second to stand up and talk for you. “[Name], and I’m their mother, Ophelia.”

Ignoring your nerves and assuming you just needed a little push, your mom kept the conversation going for a while, encouraging you to take part (“Oh, he is from that school near the house, right [Name]?” “Wow, [Name] is about your age, aren’t you, honey?” “Well, [Name] here is also really skilled with witchcraft, let me tell you about that time...”)

You suddenly excused yourself to the bathroom, deciding to hide there until the meeting finished.

“Is all your family involved in magic?” Riddle asked once you were gone. Your mother was more than happy to tell him about your millennia of history, the rooted tradition of living separated from the rest of the world (hence why you both lived in a forest), how all of your knowledge came from older generations…

When he showed a little interest in you, the woman went all into chattering about you. “I would love to enroll [Name] in advanced courses. They are such a fast learner. Even at such a young age, they control complex spells, like shape-shifting into animals.”

She kept ranting for a while and only stopped when she looked at the teen’s face, “Huh? Is something the matter? You look pale.”

Holding your breath, you left the bathroom almost twenty minutes after, just to be sure the meeting had restarted. You would wait outside and follow your mother once she finished.

Wandering a bit dejected, you were thinking about Riddle and the possibility he had recognised you. You were so absentminded you didn’t notice a familiar guy getting close.

You were suddenly held by the wrist and when you turned around, you found yourself face-to-face with the Heartslabyul leader.

He wouldn’t stop staring at your eyes, the ones he would recognise anywhere. His gaze fell down your arm and stopped at the bracelet you were wearing, the exact same he had on. (In your defense, you didn’t know he would be there, and you always wear it, it’s for luck!)

Recognising the bracelet around his wrist, you mumbled, surprised, “you are wearing it”.

Now, sitting on a bench, you two had time to talk, more accurately, to give explanations.

“Is just that… She is never home. I spent whole days, sometimes weeks, on my own. I had forgotten how it felt to have a meal with people. Your dorm is so lively, and everyone treats me really well, so I figured it out...” your feet were balancing shyly and Riddle saw your hand playing with the bracelet.

His first reaction was to get upset. He felt used. But after hearing you, he felt so perplexed and wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“Are you mad at me?” When he turned his head to look at you, he felt so guilty under your apologetic eyes.

“I am not mad”, he stated, but then remained silent.

The thing would have been awkward, but thanks to your mother who suddenly barged in, it was super awkward.

She was rambling again about the meeting and asking Riddle if he had felt sick and why he had left.

Ready to stop her and explain the whole thing, you were interrupted by Riddle’s voice.

“I feel better now, thanks. [Name] has been a lovely company. We were talking just now about how much I would like them to visit Night Raven College.I believe it would be an enriching experience.”

Of course, your mother was beyond accepting. After some arrangements, you were exchanging your goodbyes when the redhead told you “I would love to see you at our tea party.”

Next time you were in Heartslabyul, you were in your most elegant attire, sulking in your seat while the whole dorm watched you, astonished, everyone asking questions.

But after some explanations, everyone treated you like a long-time friend. Cater was really enthusiastic about it too, taking lots of pictures and calling you "kitty". You would get in your cat form sometimes and everyone cheered as if you had made a magic trick (which, in a way, it was a magic trick).

You were no longer the dorm’s pet, but their special guest.

While investigating the campus, you found a group of beastmen that decided it would be funny to chase you. You ran almost for half an hour, hiding and then fleeing when the impulsive highschool boys kept finding you.

Frantically running through the Savanaclaw dorm, you crashed against several tables and pots, until you got a sight of a closing door to which you ran towards, squishing your small cat body between the frame.

You heard the men walking down the corridor, but none of them opened the door, and you finally let yourself drop to the ground.

But your relaxation didn’t last too long, because as soon as you closed your eyes, you felt a hand grabbing you from your stomach. It was a short guy with animal ears. “Leona, when did you get a cat? You don’t expect me to feed them or something, right?” you heard him saying before hysterically hitting him with your tiny paws. Surprised, the stranger let go of you and once you landed on the floor, you escaped beneath the bed.

You were so scared you couldn’t decipher what the guys in the room said. Ruggie tried to extend his arm to grab you, but you kept crouching.

Finally he gave up after faking to leave in order to make you come out, but as soon as you got your head out of your hiding spot, you would notice him and run back.

“They’ll get out at some point. I don’t care as long as they don’t bother me.” That’s the last thing you heard before the door shut and then total silence.

After a while, you felt safe enough to crawl out from beneath the bed. The lights were turned off and someone had put on blinds on the windows. As sneaky as you could, you searched for the exit, determined to go back home and never look back again. But the door was closed, and you were too small to reach the doorknob.

The last option was to turn back to a human and open the door. You also tried to get out the window but you could neither remove the blinds with your small body.

With no options left, you got ready to turn back to your original form until you looked at the bed. Someone was lying there. But they were sleeping, so there wasn’t any problem, wasn't there? After all, you would be really quiet and fast… But a quick check wouldn’t harm you anyway. You jumped on the bed and moved around the body. Once you were near his face, you got close to be one hundred percent sure he was asleep. But as you leaned in, he opened an eye.

Seems the B plan is now out of the question. You looked at him expectantly, trying to make him open the door for you. But Leona wouldn’t move. “What? Do you want some pats?” So you walked to the door and scratched it.

“After my nap, kitty”

You scratched even harder, but the lion seemed to have gone back to his slumber. Defeated, you got back in the bed and sat next to him. After all that running, you were exhausted, and you didn't even notice when your eyes began closing.

Leona had felt the potent magic from you, and he was actually waiting to see if you were trying to steal something or hurt him. But after verifying you were indeed sleeping, he concluded you were a sort of familiar or a wizard’s pet.

When you woke up, Leona opened the door for you and let you go without further bother.

He didn’t give too much of a hassle and forgot about it until a couple of days later you approached him while he walked to one of his classes and kept following him. You even followed him to the greenhouse and lied beside him while he slept.

You were clean and quiet, and every time someone tried to wake him up you would hiss at them or throw your paws against them, so Leona kept you around.

At some point, he even would give you part of his lunch. Few Savanaclaw students claimed to have seen their leader carrying a cat back to his room several times, but when asked about it, Leona would deny it.

You two were sort of nap buddies.

Things got complicated when you suddenly stopped leaving at night. Leona allowed you to roam around, but that’s completely different from actually owning a pet. It didn’t matter how much he tried to make you go back home: he would close his dorm door, kick you softly to go away, even trying to throw you into the woods and then running.

He once sat outside with you for hours, waiting for you to leave. He dozed off for a moment and, thinking you had already left, he came back to Savanaclaw just to see you getting comfy in his bed.

Aside from the minor inconvenience, weird stuff began happening.

You stayed in the dorm while he went to his classes, and when he came back, he would find all sorts of stuff. A hair comb, toothbrush, sometimes clothes, but if he left those things unsupervised even for a few seconds, they disappeared.

Other dorm members also started noticing things. Once a student heard someone using the bathroom in Leona’s room while he was supposedly in his magift practices. Several guys began claiming to hear footsteps at unheavenly hours. It just happened once, but a first year kid swore he heard a voice.

Occurrences where the room door was locked became so common that Leona had to carry the key everywhere, and then make copies because the key would randomly get missing.

Rumor around Savanaclaw was that the former owner of the cat died (hence why the animal never returned to home), and the owner’s ghost was now following their pet.

Two weeks had passed, and Leona had enough.

Unbeknown to you, the prince was scheming a plan to uncover whatever the hell was happening.

While enjoying your afternoon nap, Ruggie approached and grabbed you. Since he often gave you food and scratched behind your ears, you had grown accustomed to him and didn’t think too much about it.

Feeling so warm in his arms, you were getting ready to go back to your dreams when he placed you inside a tiny room you had never seen before.

“It’s time for the dorm cleaning and I don’t need you leaving paw prints everywhere, so stay there, okay?,” he said with his devilish smile before closing the door.

Brooms, mops and some cleaning stuff were crumbled in what seemed to be a small warehouse. It was sheer black, and the floor was cold. Alright, nothing you couldn’t handle…

“You can eat some rats if you get really hungry. I’ll get you later,” he screamed from the other side of the door before leaving.

Wait, rats?!

Absolutely ridden by the sudden panic, you searched for a chair or table to climb to, but there was nothing. You also couldn’t find a light switch and it didn’t seem the place had a lightbulb anyway.

Frozen in place, you tried to calm down, but the moment you heard a squeak from the darkness of the room, you just couldn’t handle it.

You scratched the door desperately, but no one would come. You just needed to unlock the door and push it enough so you could leave in your cat form with no one seeing the real you.

With trembling hands, you turned the doorknob just a tiny bit and suddenly the knob was no longer in your hand. Someone had opened the door.

A yellow vest was the first thing you saw. Slowly, your eyes kept raising and raising until you met with a pair of green angry eyes.

The two of you watched at each other for a second and then you grabbed the door again, trying to close it, but Leona used his arm to impede it.

“You better have a fantastic explanation or you’ll get in a lot of trouble”

After realizing that you could live a more or less decent life on campus, you decided it was way better than letting your oppressing family control your life so you could be the next great witch. That's why you ran away.

While you were talking to him about your parents, their strict rules, how they wouldn’t let you talk to people or see the real world, giving you thousand paged books to read in a day and the non-stopping magic lessons, he kinda understood your reasons. But his face remained inexpressive as you shared your family drama. You were expecting him to convince you to going home, but as soon as you finished speaking he turned away from you and began walking.

“I don’t care what you decide to do, but you better look for another place because you are not staying in my room anymore,” he said, completely ignoring your pleading eyes while you followed him.

After tons of begging, you two came to an agreement. You could live there, but not for free. You basically became Leona’s slave. After all, you said to be willing to do anything just to stay, didn’t you?

Ruggie remained without work because everything was left to you. Not only the cleaning of his room but the entire dorm, carrying his stuff, doing his homework (since you were so skilled in reading extensive texts). He would spontaneously crave snacks and the moment you brought them, he wanted another brand. All of this while you took care of not getting caught.

In his own words, he was giving you a taste of the real world. You claimed to be ready to live on your own, well, then prove it.

But you would do every task. Sometimes on the verge of tears, but you never dared to complain. Even after his demands became more and more excessive, you would do them.

One day he finally surrendered and sat in front of you, “alright, when are you going back home?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” you told him, rejecting all of his advice.

That’s when he told you about his own family problems. Although he omitted a lot of information. You two had a really long conversation trying to convince the other that your families were worse.

“But run away will solve it? Do you really want a life of hiding and depending on others just to escape from your family?”, after noticing your resilience to answer, he finished with: “let’s do this, go back and talk with them, but talk clearly. And if your parents refuse to understand, I promise I’ll let you stay with me even after I return to my home.”

After making him promise it thousands of times and even write it down (with his signature, of course), you gained enough courage to go to your family. Expecting to get back the same day to NRC and laugh in Leona’s face.

But a day passed, and there was no sight of you in the dorm.

Leona was actually getting worried when you finally appeared. Sleeping in his bed as a cat.

After getting back with your parents, even though you got into trouble, your family got so scared that they had enough time to realize all the reasons you had to escape. They weren’t ready to let you go into the cold, cruel world, but agreed to give more permissions. (Mind you, “going to see a guy after sunset in his room” wasn’t one of those permissions.)

Although you stopped living in the dorm, that wasn’t the last time the Savanaclaw students heard of you.

Malleus' first encounter with the curious creature occurred during one of his night walks. He was walking through Ramshackle's tranquil garden when he noticed bright eyes peeking out of a bush. They shared glances for a minute until a frightened cat emerged from the leafs and refused to lose sight of him as he backed away until it felt safe enough to turn and run.

It didn’t matter. He was already used to others feeling threatened by his presence. However, the event bothered him enough that, for the second encounter, he attempted to lure the feline.

“Good night”, he said to the cat briefly before continuing with his path.

The animal seemed to understand Malleus’ genuine intentions and after that day began appearing constantly. Always watching from afar. Hiding in the forest if the stranger got too close.

With the passing of time, the cat started getting closer. They then began walking alongside the fae. When they felt comfortable enough, they would greet him purring between his legs.

Malleus felt satisfied. There was a certain special bond between him and his night companion. Although most of the time both would enjoy their company in silence, nights where he shared vague ideas and commentaries about his day were not missing. And since his little confidant would always listen carefully, Malleus was sure that given the opportunity, the cat would have conversed happily.

Of course, since day one, he noticed the unusual magical aura surrounding the animal. But this wasn’t his first time hearing about a magical cat. So he just let it slip.

The lie was discovered on a rainy night. The young prince was unbothered by the storms, therefore went with his habitual stroll. But something was different. His loyal companion never arrived. Maybe they had looked for a shelter from the rain?

Malleus couldn’t simply… leave. Not after months of nightly escapades with the cat. They no longer were a stray cat but his friend -or at least, that’s the way the leader of Diasomnia felt-. Worried, he waited around an hour before going to look for them on the usual route.

Late at night, the storm hadn’t ceased, nor Malleus had stopped searching. He was walking near the woods when a sad meow captured his attention. There was you, caught in a tree’s branches, refusing to get out into the frightening storm.

The fairy raised his arms and without a doubt you jumped to his chest, grasping desperately his uniform. “It's alright. Thunder can’t hurt you here.”

He ended up bringing you to his dorm. He laid you softly in his bed and during the entire night; you stayed shivering beneath the sheets. The next morning, the only remnant of the storm was a soft mizzle. Deciding to let you sleep a bit more, Malleus left quietly for his classes.

He came back as soon as classes ended (or as soon as he could escape them). But when he opened the door instead of finding his cute pet, he encountered a person with black clothes sitting in the bed and playing shyly with their fingers.

“So… I might not be a cat…” the intruder said, each word getting slower and softer. Their head was low with shame and they almost disappeared between their oversized clothes. “Sorry.”

Peaceful as always, Malleus asked a few questions. Clearly ignorant of the growing nervousness in the witch. You told him about your family, a long line of magicians which believed that the only way to remain pure was to stay in contact with the self, and that meant leaving the society and raising children inside the family environment. You were all alone with your granny, a loving but strict lady who instructed you in magic ways from a young age but wouldn’t let you get out into the real world.

Full of curiosity, you awaited every night until she fell asleep and transformed into a cat. At the beginning, you only roamed the forest around your house, but when you started getting further, you were captivated by an enormous castle that you later learned was Night Raven College.

Last night you had tried to get back home before the rain got worse, but it was so dark that you couldn’t find the way. Lost and cold, you climbed a tree and waited, crying for help, until Malleus appeared.

After giving your last apologies, you left all gloomy and humiliated. But contrary to what you thought, Malleus was far from mad. He got all excited, thinking that now that the truth was out, you two were practically friends.

That’s why he got so confused when you stopped appearing.

Truth is, you couldn’t find the guts to go back (you were also like, really grounded). And you probably would have never got out of your house again if it weren’t for your grandmother, whose immense ire was exchanged with worry when days later you would still play with the food for hours before getting a bite and sit in the window with a defeated look.

A week had already passed when walking by the Ramshackle dorm, Malleus saw a figure sitting in the stairs. He approached carefully and expected you to say something, but you would only look at your feet. After a minute of silence, he decided to only sit next to you.

Comforted by the stillness, you took out a circular box and offered it to the man, still unable to look him in the eyes. “My grandma told me to bring you this”, he grabbed the box and opened it in his lap, revealing several homemade biscuits. “She thanks you because you helped me get down the tree, sorry.”

“Have I ever talked to you about my grandmother?” He asked and smiled triumphantly after you finally raised your head to deny with a glimpse of a smile in your lips.

He got really surprised when, upon hearing that he was the prince from the Valley of Thorns, you squealed so loud… So you weren’t aware?

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #riddle x reader #leona x reader #malleus x reader #twst malleus #twst riddle #twst leona #gender neutral reader #twst headcanons

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reids-rendering-reality · 3 years

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Guys My Age

Summary: Y/N is the newest addition to the BAU team and Spencer appears to have taken a special liking towards her. The only problem is, he thinks he’s too old for her. However, that’s all about to change when they share a hotel room.

(A/N: I’m such a sucker for the hotel room trope so I combined it with two of my other favourite ideas: Spencer being older than the reader and catching her doing yoga)

Type: fluff + a sexual innuendo or two

Warnings: dirty thoughts, insecurity about age, age gap, anxiety, yoga?

Word Count: 2.1K

Spencer Reid’s POV

I pulled the handle of my satchel over my shoulder as I sighed. It was a very long day in a small rural town somewhere deep in Alabama. Everyone else had gone back to their hotel room, besides Hotch and I. There was just something about this case I couldn’t get out of my mind. The feeling of being so close to the final piece of the puzzle, as if it were on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t grip it. Yet I had to let it go for the night and get some rest. The much needed REM sleep could give me an entirely new perspective on this problem to me tomorrow. At least that’s what I hoped.

On the walk to the hotel room I was getting increasingly nervous, the more rooms I passed in the hallway. This small hotel did not have enough rooms to accommodate the whole team separately. They only had four rooms for the seven of us. JJ and Emily had immediately paired up, just like Rossi and Morgan. And Hotch being the team leader took the single room. Leaving me with our newest and youngest member, Y/N.

It’s not like I didn’t like her. That’s not what it was at all. Just, she made me a little bit nervous. She was so beautiful that sometimes I couldn’t get out any words around her. And that says a lot because I always have something to say. But as cheesy as it sounds, in some moments there is not a single fact that I can recall.

But the elephant in the room demands to be heard. She is younger than I am. And that by a lot. By exactly ten years and three months. That appears to be a lot. I don’t really know why, but that bothers me. We are both adults, but because of social conventions at our age, I feel as though it is inappropriate. Yet if I were 60 and she were 50 or I was 80 and she was 70, no one would even blink at the gap. Yet because we are young it matters. I feel sad when I think about it because I like her a lot. And when we talk I don’t notice the age gap. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that it wasn’t even there at all.

What surprised me as I was having these thoughts and neared the room was the fact that I actually considered asking her out. Since Maeve I have not been on a single date. And who said she would even be interested in anything beyond a casual friendship or even colleagueship with me? That’s not even considering the amount of courage it would require for me to tell her. But it’s not like that would be a fruitful endeavour.

And that was the last thought I had before I reached the door to room 179. A prime number. Prime numbers would be my lucky numbers if there were such a thing.

As I rummaged around my pockets and satchel for the key card I noticed the sound of music coming through the door.

“Gotta thank him he’s the reason

That I’ll find what I’m looking for.”

I heard a woman sing over the sound of an electric guitar. I still hadn’t found my key card.

“Guys my age don't know how to treat me

Don't know how to treat me.”

My movements stopped when my brain registered the lyrics. Guys my age…?

“Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good.”

My breath hitched and I gulped, key card in hand. Did she mean that? Could it be possible that she would be interested in someone ten years older than her? The feeling of hope was beginning to form in my brain, scenarios of what could be clouding my vision. But they were quickly pushed aside by a dark storm of self-doubt. Because most people don’t listen to lyrics as closely. The lyrics to a song don’t mean anything to them. Did they mean anything to her?

I realised I had been standing in front of the door for way too long and gathered all my confidence to go inside. But nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. After closing the door behind me and tucking away the key card into my bag I turned around for the first time.

There she was. In the middle of the room in front of the two twin beds on a yoga mat. Her front leg was bent as she stretched her back. She was only dressed in skin tight pants and a matching bra that complimented the way her body was contorted. The soft light from the night lamp next to one of the beds made her skin glisten just noticeably as if it were glowing. I could feel my eyes widen as I my brain finally added up the pieces of what I was seeing.

“Oh, hi Spence!” she said gleefully turning her head towards mine, “I was feeling a little tense after sitting in that conference room all day. I hope you don’t mind.”

I didn’t even bother to attempt to talk, I could feel how dry my throat was and how my lips would not listen to any command I would’ve given it. So I just shook my head and pulled my eyes away from her as she moved her upper body towards the floor, holding herself up by her ellbows. I walked towards the beds in her general direction trying not to notice how gorgeous her ass looked now that her body was turned away from me. That I even had that thought surprised me and caused a blush to rise to my cheeks. I was thankful that she couldn’t see my face in that moment as I loosened up my tie. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, my attention drifted back to the song.

“Don't know how to love me good

So I'm never going back”

There was nothing in that moment that could keep me sane. My wildest dreams could have not come up with this scenario. It felt utterly unreal.

As the song ended I saw her change positions again from my peripheral vision.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” she said while turning the music down.

I noticed panic begin to fill my brain. She wanted to have a conversation.

“I um- it’s been kind of a long day,” I said and cleared my throat, while deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to turn around towards her.

“Have you been at the station the whole time? You must be exhausted,” she responded and continued when I didn’t answer, “I thought you could show me that show you’ve been gushing about.”

How was this real life? My brain began to lose control of my executive functions as my body turned around to face her. She was now sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, her hands wrapped around her feet as she looked up at me. The low-cut top she was wearing gave me a perfect sight into the curves of her-

I dared not continue that line of thought, already flustered enough as it is.

“Really? You’d be interested in watching that?” I said and blinked.

Her lips spread into a smile, twinkling her eyes, “Yeah, of course. The way you described it makes me really curious.”

“We could watch an episode or two before going to sleep, if you want.”

I just had to take this chance. Even if I could only begin to have a friendship with her, I wanted to be close to her because for some odd reason, I couldn’t bear to admire her from afar.

So not long after, I was setting up the odd hotel room tv to watch the show. It took me the entirety of her taking a shower so that I was only standing back up when she was walking out of the small bathroom in a white bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. She smiled up at me as she walked past me, her hand brushing my arm so casually that I questioned whether it actually happened.

I hesitated again before sitting down on the bed. Was she going to get dressed in front of me? Because no matter how much my amygdala wanted me to see that, my frontal cortex wasn’t going to allow it. I forced myself to look through my satchel in an attempt to find a distraction as I waited for her next move. But luckily, she didn’t tempt my brain too much into overdrive.

I felt as if there was a higher power not willing to spare me for the night when she came out of the bathroom a second time, now something someone might call dressed. She was in a loose light coloured satin pyjama set that showed off her legs perfectly. And as if that were not enough to torture me for the night, she joined me on my twin bed with her bag of chips.

“I hope that’s okay with you, then we can share snacks,” she said so innocently that I almost believed it. But I could still hear the song ringing in my ears and I noticed her eyes take a short glance down at my lips as she said it. I was almost convinced that I wasn’t imagining things.

What really sealed the deal was that I noticed her scoot a tiny bit closer to me every once in a while. At first I could only feel the warmth she radiated, but after about 30 minutes I felt the bare skin of her arm against mine. My breath quickened, which I was sure she had noticed.

I knew the episode off by heart. Which was to my advantage because then my brain could run in a speed that I could barely follow. I tried my hardest to calm down a little bit, which was hard when I could feel the movement of her body as a whole-hearted laugh filled her throat.

“Y/N,” I whispered with all my courage. It was so low that I almost thought she wouldn’t hear it, but she turned her head towards me her eyes following a few seconds after.

Her eyes met mine and it was like I could feel my neurons firing electrical signals throughout my entire body. And just like that, in one swift movement she had grabbed my face by the back of my head and pulled me into her lips.

That was the first time that night that my muscles began to relax as I eased into the sensation of her soft lips moving against mine. It was as though I was beginning to lose myself in the kiss, all insecurities about her feelings towards me or my inexperience gone.

When she ultimately pulled away and rested her forehead against mine, we were both panting gently. My whole body felt warm with the feeling of her breath on my skin and her hands still in my hair. I didn’t dare open my eyes, still afraid that I would wake up from this idyllical dream.

We both didn’t know what to say as we pulled away further and looked at each other. I wanted to say something, to let her know how I felt, but once again, my brain did not follow my commands.

“Did you know when you kiss someone for the first time it causes your dopamine levels to increase for a short period of time? It also makes your heart rate and the oxygen supply to your brain to raise,” I heard my voice say in something between a whisper and my normal talking voice.

“For the first time, huh?” she grinned a little at me.

I reached for her hand and gently took it in mine. I moved her palm over my shirt to the centre of my chest. I could feel my heart race through her hands and I know she could feel it too. She looked up into my eyes again with a look on her face that told me all I needed to know.

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kirishoshego · 3 years

Text

Favorite Crime//Kirishima

!!MINORS DNI!! 18+ only

(at this point big shout out to you for coming up with these ideas!) this time under the title "Hey, watch it creep" My second piece for another collab created by@ultimate-astridwriting

Pairing: Yandere!ProHero!Kiri x fem!reader Words:7.6k

Summary: Meeting your fav Pro Hero at a convention was meant to be a one time thing, but coincidentally you somehow lost your most important belongings. And what a coincidence that out of everyone Red Riot himself found it.

TW: yandere, possessiveness, mild manipulation, dc (stalking, mention of death and murder, but not explicitly described, him keeping you locked up only mentioned at the very end, thoughts about it coming sooner), break in, long sex scene on the kitchen table, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, biting, leaving bite marks, Daddy Kink, softdom!Kiri, praise, size kink slightly, unprotected sex

Deafening screams surrounded you as you were waiting for the big double doors to open. Luck, that's what you called it when you got one of the last VIP-Tickets, considering they were sold out in seconds. It was still hard to believe that you were going to meet Red Riot himself, again. You knew him from before his fame, he had saved you once from a small accident you were involved in and ever since then he was your number one hero. By now he had saved hundreds of lives, there was no way he would remember you. And even without a personal backstory he would be your #1.

The black doors opened, revealing two buff looking security guards on each side. They kept a straight face while checking each ticket and searching through the belongings before people who were shining brighter than the sun entered the huge hall. Your excitement was soon replaced with fear, the anxious feeling of something going wrong bubbling up deep inside of the pit of your stomach. There was no chance things shouldn't go well, you tried to calm yourself down. The ticket was bought fair and square, not from a sketchy third partner, you had no weapons in your pockets or purse. But what if the code won't scan? If they think you faked it, call the cops on you, you will be banned from ever coming here again, no chance of ever meeting Kirishima again.

"Madam? Please continue walking, you're holding up the line," the security guard told you as she handed you the VIP bracelet. Every thing was just fine just said to yourself as you stepped into the event that's about to change your life. You were astonished at how colorful the hall was. Food stands were scattered around filling the big room with a comforting smell of everything sweet and savory. People were dressing up as characters from movies, animes and mangas or comics. Merchandise was showcased and sold. Special merch worth more than your rent for the next five month and others so expensive you would probably have to sell your soul for.

Fate, that's what he called it when his eyes landed on you from the raised platform through the tinted windows. While you were admiring some art, he was admiring another piece of art: you. The scene of him saving you played in his head as if it was yesterday, how you clung to him, looking up into his red eyes as if he was some sort of god. Never would he forget your smell, sweet and intoxicating. Kiri still carried the bracelet you gave him as a thank you, apologizing because it was nothing special, even after he told you it was his job, you don't need to give him anything. Now it was his lucky charm, taking it with him wherever he went. Warmness spread through his body when he spotted you buying a T-Shirt of his. You thought about him too.

Kirishima had spent two years searching for you, changing his work-out routine just so he could pass by the crash scene in hope to bump into you again. But how was he supposed to find you if he didn't even knew your name. Luck just didn't seem to be on his side. Until now. You were here, he finally had a second chance to get you and he wasn't going to pass it up. No matter who you were here with or for, he is going to be the only one on you will leave with.

"Red Riot, you with us?" one of the PR people pulled him away from you, back to the conversation they were having. "What? Sorry, of course," he said, looking down again only to find you missing again, silently cursing the man behind him. "You seem a bit lost, everything alright Eiji?" Mina asked him as she stepped beside him, putting her hand on his muscular arm. "Yeah, sorry, just a bit nervous. That's all. Thank you for asking," she offered him a bite of the donut she was currently eating to calm him down a bit, which he gladly accepted, feeling a bit more at ease now. He will find you this time, no doubt in his mind.

Three minutes. That's how long it took Kirishima to find you among everyone else. At first he over looked you, which really wasn't his fault. Someone dressed up as Elias Ainsworth was simply covering your smaller frame, but the moment his searching eyes fell on you his heart skipped a beat. You were here. For him. To see him, to be with him. Only five more people he thought, he could do that.

But now that he had seen you time appeared to be moving argonising slow. Minutes felt like hours and as much as he tried he could barely listen to whatever his fans told him, all his attention, all his thoughts where on you. His smile didn't falter once and he was kind to all, but he couldn't help and rush the small meetings.

"Hey love," his voice was deep, raspy and set of butterflies in your stomach, the warmness of his smile spreading through your body. "Hey Red Riot," your voice was small, quiet, everything it wasn't supposed to be. "Please call me Eijiro," first name basis. Even Kirishima would have been an honour, but he wanted you to call him by his name, had to hear you say it, make him feel like he's finally home. "I'm Y/N," you introduced yourself, your voice feeling a bit more secure. "Y/N, what a beautiful name," the effect his compliment had on you made him smile even more, it appeared to be easy to fluster you. "Thank you, Eijiro," he wanted you to say it over and over and over again, with love and adoration, moan it out while he pleased you better than any other human could even dream about.

"Are you here with someone?" an uneasy feeling made its presence felt. What if you were in love with someone else? „No. I'm here alone, my friend who wanted to tag along fell sick," you explained to him, noticing the tension that had build up in his body now leaving. "How long are you going to stay?" Kirishima asked, feeling less stressed once you revealed you plan on staying till early evening, considering there will be a small conference with the heroes. You didn't want to miss the opportunity of seeing everyone else here.

There was so much he wanted to tell you, ask you, get to know you, keep you with him, he couldn't handle loosing you again. But the photographer cleared his throat, pointing to his clock. He knew there was no way around meeting everyone else, so the faster this was over, the sooner he could be with you.

"I'll see you later," it wasn't a question, it was a statement, a promise. Nobody noticed his hand slipping into your bag when he hugged you goodbye. Nobody noticed how your keys and wallet disappeared into the big inner pockets of his jacket. He didn't do anything wrong, he wouldn't do anything with it, he would simple borrow it for a while, there was nothing wrong with that, right? "I hope so," you told him, sad that you had to part ways.

"Next," called the photographer, after handing you the printed out picture, the frame for it already awaiting you at home.

The interaction between the two of you still didn't answer you wether or not he remembered you. You never stood a chance with him anyway, he is a famous pro hero after all, he already said there was currently no time for someone serious in his life. That was until you sat in between the rather small crowd hanging on every word the heroes said while sitting on the stage. He revealed he had his eyes on someone. Your heart shouldn't hurt as much as it did, but you couldn't deny the feeling of your heart contracting.

The same way his did when he noticed you were gone. He had seen you in the crowd, waved at you when he went on stage, there was merely a tiny time frame of maybe ten seconds where his eyes weren't on you. Kirishima had to calm himself down, his erection growing harder by the minute, watching you wrap your lips around the wooden straw and thinking about how they would feel wrapped around him instead. He felt like fourteen again, mentally slapping himself for being turned on by something as simple as that, which definitely was a first for him. Those few seconds allowed you to slip away. Or at least you tried, considering you had no where to go without your car or money.

All he had to do to find you was walk onto the parking lot. Your cussing could be heard even from afar, telling yourself how stupid you were for not being more careful. "Everything okay?" his sudden appearance startled you and he almost felt bad when he noticed how defeated you look. "Oh, Eijiro. Yeah everything is okay, I'm fine," you brushed off, but the look of a lost puppy written across your face told him otherwise. "I'm not stupid you know?" he raised his eyebrows, leading you to a bench surrounded by small flowers, shielded by a big tree.

"Someone stole my stuff, I don't know how to get home. Also my phone died and my portable charger is in the car, so…“ you told him. A sigh left your lips as you looked at him through your lashes. "Y/N, that's really not a problem. I can drive you home, I'll talk to the organizer and security, maybe someone already found it and gave it to them or they will find it when they clean. It's not the end of the world, okay?," he laid his arm around you and pulled you into him, the heat radiating off of him calming you down. "Ki- Eijiro, that's really kind of you, but I can't-" you missed the flash of anger across his face. He won't let you turn him down. "I won't accept a no,“ before you could say anything he pulled out something from his pocket with a cheesy smile, hoping to lift up your mood.

"I still have your bracelet," he remembered. "You didn't forget about me," disbelieve was waved in your voice as you starred at the small object in his hand. "Never," red eyes took in every little detail about you, from tiny scars to anything that ornamented your face. "Come on, let's get you inside, it's getting a bit cold. I will talk to the staff and you can grab something to eat from our buffet," offered the tall man. He just wanted you to be happy, wanted you to feel save with him, wanted you to trust him. "Thank you," and you did, how could you not when he was basically a sunshine walking on two legs.

Whatever you offered, he declined it, telling you he had to go this way anyway. Which was the half truth, considering he should have turned right about twenty minutes ago instead of left. He just didn't want you to feel bad. Kirishima had asked you all sorts of thing, some more personal than others. Suspicious was the last thing he wanted you to be right now. It’s not like he didn’t care about your favorite color or band, but right now all he wanted to know was wether or not you’re seeing someone. You didn’t.

As you went to step out of his car Eijiro stopped you, asking for your number so he could text you if they find anything. You were more than happy to comply, smiling when he wished you a good night, texting you once he got home:

Meeting you again was awesome, I’m glad I have you back in my life :)

A week had almost passed and you found yourself texting the Pro Hero more and more. They found your belongings the next day, so Kiri offered to drop them by within the next few days. He had to find a reason to text you longer, had to build a relationship with you.

The red haired man send you a bouquet of flowers and a cute stuffed animal that reminded him of you after you told him your ex was found murdered. His body crushed like a grape. You had told you weren't really sad, he wasn't kind to you in the past, but it still didn't leave you unbothered. Probably got mixed up in a gang fight, his addiction wasn’t unknown and the case was quickly closed by the police.

Something he didn't want to find out while texting was that you were going on a date tonight. Everything between the two of you was going so great and now another man ruined it. You could have said no, but it wasn't your fault, you simply didn’t know any better. It was your dates fault for thinking he could try to take you away from him. Another reason why he had to keep you save from the outside.

He stood me up you texted him, feeling annoyed by the fact your date wasn't even mature enough to let you know it won't work.

I'm sorry. He didn't text you or anything? Of course he didn't, Kirishima thought to himself, watching the burning car. What a pity that his brakes didn't work. You should always check before you go somewhere.

No, nothing. He didn't even reply to my last message

Wait for me love, I'll be there shortly x

It was easy for him to get you to share your location with him. All he wanted was to look out for you, make sure you're safe when he isn't near you. The world is so cruel and you're his friend, that's all he had to say to you. Kirishima loved how naive you were just for him.

Usually you paid attention, don't give away too much, don’t give up the control you had with your surroundings. But it's different with him. He wasn't sure if you even noticed how much you trusted him, how easy it was for you to put your life in the hands of Red Riot. Misusing that trust would never pop into his head, he loved you for so long now, but he was scared he will lose you again. He might just has to keep you to him entirely. Would you let him? Or did he had to take you?

When he arrived at the luxurious restaurant his breath hitched in his throat as his red eyes landed on your gorgeous figure, clad in the most beautiful piece of clothing he had ever seen.

"Hey love," he greeted you, feeling your arms wrap around his torso, the smell of your perfume hitting his nostrils. "Hey Eijiro, you didn't need to come here. I could have just gone home and eat some take out," you explained, his hug around you tightening. It made you feel warm, not knowing his grip turned harder out of anger. Why would you always tell him about the things you could do without him. Every time he offered to be with you you would say no, tell him you didn't want to bother him. Did you not realize how in love he was? Or did you and you simply didn't feel the same? The thought of you turning him down made him even angrier, to a point of you squeaking out that you couldn't really breath. He apologized with a laugh, complimenting you. You didn't even got to say no after he told you to go inside again to have the date with him instead, as the tall man already pushed you through the door.

All he had to do was drop his name, a table ready within five minutes and an appetizer already awaiting you. As much as you would love to call this a date, you had to remind yourself that he was seeing someone. Never would you try and get between them, possibly destroying their happiness. His happiness. The sorrowful reminder of the two of you just being friend still stung. Even though you thought you had convinced yourself you only liked him as nothing more than that.

"They gave me your things by the way, they’re in my car. I would like to drive you home, is that okay?" he liked to give you the illusion of having a choice. "Are you sure? I can take the bus," you offered, knowing how far away his cottage was. "Nonsense, come on," he held the door open for you yet again, his eyes wandering to your beautiful ass that he would love to feel in his big hands, groping it and leaving his print in red on its flesh.

The car ride was filled with music and small talk, telling him about your day and your plans for the rest of the week and visa versa. When his fingers, draped over the shift gear, slightly brushed your thigh you shifted in your seat, turning your legs away from him. Kirishima's hand turned red, white spots appearing, caused by the tight grip on his shift. It almost cracked the leather and metal.

"So how are you and your... partner?" way to go, you thought to yourself. You knew a whole lot about him by now, but you have never talked about his sexuality. As far as you knew he could be gay. And because he never talked about the person he is seeing you couldn't just assume anything about them.

Why were you suddenly asking about Bakugou? Was he wrong about you? Where you like his last lovers? It didn't matter to him that they used him to get close to his best friend because he used them as well. But you? It felt like part of him died.

"Bakugou is just fine," his jaw was clenched and as much as he tried to keep his happy face on for you, the thought of you touching yourself to the thought of his best friend and not him? Craving Bakugou, wishing for his lips to be on yours, his arms wrapped around you, not Kirishima's. "Oh..." his eyes flickered to your face for a few seconds before returning to the road, seeing a surprised look painted on your face. "I didn't know the two of you were a thing! That's great though," while your lips were curved upwards your eyes didn't match. "What?" now it was his turn to be bewildered. "I mean, I heard the rumors of some fans shipping you, I didn't know they were true! Don't worry your secret's save with me," his body language told you how much he disliked the current situation and you didn't mean to push him.

"No... Wait. I am so confused right now. Why do you think I'm dating my best friend?" he asked you, turning into your street. Once you explained your train of thoughts his booming laugh filled the vehicle, relieve filling his whole body and feeling a ton being lifted off of his shoulders. „Oh, hahaha no. No, I'm not seeing anyone. What I meant at the con was- oh shit," the car stopped abruptly, his big arm immediately going across your chest to stop you from being pushed forward even with the seat belt on.

"Wha-" your eyes had followed his gaze, spotting whatever had him looking like he had seen a ghost. Your door was ajar and you spotted a cornice across your window from inside. It was dark but the street lights allowed you to see just enough. The shoe cabinet in your entrance was knocked over, jackets laying on the floor. The man next to you ordered you to wait in his locked car before he went inside, his quirk activated.

If the situation wasn't so dangerous your mouth would be watering at the sight of Red Riot in action. A breath you didn't know you were holding escaped your lips once he came back in sight. "Nobody is in there but I don't think it's save," his raspy voice told you as he opened your door, his hand finding place in the small of your back as you went inside. "You should pack your things and stay with me for a while, just so we're sure nobody is trying to harm you in particular," he let you know. "Why would anyone try to get to me? I don't have a useful quirk. My parents aren't rich, neither am I, I don't hold any power," you said, his hand stopping you from cleaning. "We should call the police. If you move anything it might mess up evidence on it," he knew what he was talking about, he had experienced these type of situations plenty of times. "Didn't your ex recently die? What if there is a crazy lover going around? Maybe he still owns someone money. You know you're save with me Y/N. I'm not that far away from you, your work is right around the corner, just a different direction," he saw a small part of you still hesitating to accept his offer, while another part of you wanted to be with him.

"I promise you, as long as you stay with me, nothing bad will happen to you," Kirishima would never let anything happen to you, never. He couldn't forgive himself if he let something hurt you. "That would be nice,“ you didn’t know the weight your words carried. It was like a modern Beauty and the Beast, only this time the Beast was already in love with his Beauty.

It worked :) Candy is send, should arrive soon.

It did, tastes delicious.

2k and a VIP pass to the next con was all it costed him to convince a small-time criminal he had caught before to break into your house and cause some chaos. Nobody was going to get hurt and he would never get in trouble for it promised Kirishima. And he would hold that promise dear to him. Because if that guy would get caught so did the hero, who had a lot more on the line. Which luckily for Eijiro that guy didn't think about much.

An hour later you stood in a huge entrance floor. Dark marble floors radiating warmth, caused by underfloor heating, welcoming the pacing of your feet as you slipped out of your jacket. "Eijiro, this place is beautiful! I might never leave again," you laughed to convey your joke. "You can stay forever if you want," as if you had a choice, he thought to himself, glad you liked your new home. He had renovated it a bit in the last week, making sure everything was the best of the best.

"Why don't you slip into something comfy? I'll do so too and then we can watch a movie if you like?" he offered and even though you felt tired watching a movie with him did sound like a great idea. He showed you around the house, explaining how Bakugo had helped with most of the interior design.

„I just don’t have an eye for that, but Katsuki? He’s brilliant,“ he explained, stopping at a wall covered in pictures. All of his friends had gifted him pics when he moved, so he decided to dedicate a wall to them. Pointing at a photograph of the two of you set off butterflies in your stomach. „That’s my newest addition, you look so beautiful here,“ Mina made that picture of the two of you, he had wrapped you in his jacket before walking back inside to talk to the security guards. (Y/e/c) eyes were fixed on him, laughing about a joke he made, his hand pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

„This is the bathroom, if you need anything, just call me. Conditioner and everything is in there, feel free to use whatever,“ Kirishima offered, laying out a warm towel for you after you asked to hop under his shower.

"Please don't laugh. I thought I grabbed a different shirt but I must have been a bit lost in my thoughts," you told him, feeling heat rising up in your cheeks. When going through your bag you were so sure you had grabbed a plain big shirt, but it turned out to be the one you had bought at the con. It's not like he didn't knew you were a fan, it was just weird to wear his merch in front of him. "I think it's really cute," the man clad in a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose red shirt patted the spot next to him, a drink and soft blanket waiting for you already.

He had been drawing spiral patterns all over your upper legs and while his eyes starred at the screen he didn't had clue what the movie was about as his brain was corrupted by thoughts surrounding you. Only when a sex scene on screen caused you to shift ever so slightly in your position did his day dreams falter. Whatever the people were doing before, right now he had trapped her in between him and the wall. His hand was around her throat while his knee gave her some sort of relieve and whispering dirty things into her ear.

"Thinking about me doing that to you princess?" he asked you sweetly, pulling your attention from the suddenly very interesting bottle cap. Kirishima's lust got the best of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He had to have you in every way possible and as much as he wanted to wait, to get you used to everything, introduce you to the situation you still didn't knew you were in- he couldn't. "Hm?" you probably misheard him, you weren't really paying attention to be fair.

"I asked you," he grabbed your chin with his hand, thumb on your chin while making you look into his eyes. You hadn't noticed but his whole demeanor changed. His bright eyes now as dark as red wine, catching every movement of your muscles, his body tense, appearing like a predator ready to jump on its prey.

"If you think about me touching you?" Kirishima finished, knowing very well that you did. He almost fucked up a job because the sight of you touching yourself moaning out his name barely left him any piece of sanity. You had read a story about him, a very dirty one as well and fuck how wet you were, so needy and helpless, mind filled with him and him alone.

He couldn't bare the thought of you having any secrets, something he didn't know. Kirishima had to know everything, what you eat, your favorite drink, what type of gifts you appreciate, your favorite type of book genre, movie genre, what TV you liked to watch. Where you more of a dog or a cat person? Or both, maybe neither? What made you happy, what made you sad, how can he lift up your mood? It wasn't hard to get access to your laptop. Okay, well it was, but he had watched a friend hack into someone's stuff before, for another mission and remembered how to do it. Just in case. And oh my, you were such a good girl for him. Saved all of your passwords, your history, your Netflix, youtube, tumblr. Everything laid out for him, because you wanted him to find it, find out everything he wanted. He loved you more and more every second.

You were beneath him within seconds, his large frame towering over yours and trapping you. His warm breath was fanning over your face, eyes flickering between yours and your lips while a few strands of loose red hair fell into his face.

"Eiji-" as you attempted to sit up again he pressed your upper body down without any effort using his hand, feeling your heartbeat quicken. His sweatpants appeared to be much tighter all of the sudden and you couldn't help but peak down slightly, the sight of his dick print, revealing his impressively thick girth, the length hidden through the shirt he was wearing.

"My eyes are up here," he chuckled, face getting even closer. "Eijirou, I don't think we should do anything indiscreet," you told him, pushing yourself forward by your feet in a feeble attempt to escape. Only to have him flip you over on your stomach, one hand wrapped around your wrists and holding them above your head.

„Don’t fight it," he whispered in your ear, grinding down on your ass, enough to send pleasure through your whole body, goose bumps appearing on your skin. "We should-" you tried to form a complete sentence, but his lips on your neck were thwarting your plan, especially after they found your sweet spot.

"Hm?" he asked, peppering more kisses along your delicate skin, your senses heightening when his sharp teeth were dragged along it. His soft lips curled up into a small smirk as another moan hit his ears, before his teeth sunk into your neck. The scream escaping your lips was a something in-between pain and pleasure. And without a thought you had pushed your ass into him, your throbbing cunt begging for attention. Shame clouded your head as you came to realize how turned on you were by the currently obscure scene you had found yourself in.

"Do you want me to stop?" his tone let you know that there was only one right answer, his other hand slipping underneath you to tease you. The tip of his finger ghosted over your clit, earning a whine from your side. As you tried to push yourself down to create some sort of friction he pulled away, clicking his tongue.

"I asked you a question Y/N,“ his husky voice reminded you, kissing the fresh bite mark and caressing it with his sharp tongue. "No," you breathed, the lust your body felt in every inch betraying your mind, which was barely functioning at this point.

"Tell me you want me and I'll put the world to your feet," he meant it, all he needed to hear was that you wanted him, he needed, craved, starved for your acceptance of him as the man by your side. "Eijiro, I want you," you whispered, feeling hot and cold at the same time, craving his touch on you but also to disappear in between the cushions. Surely you had thought about this plenty of times but telling him, talking to him like that was new, unknown.

"Come on princess, don’t tease daddy and tell me what you want," he groaned into your ear, nibbling at its lobe. Rough hand groped your ass, kneading it, fingertips gliding across the swell, down between your legs, going all the way up only to skip the spot you needed him at the most. "I want you, please," he had heard you just fine the first time but he couldn't get enough of it, needed more.

"You can do better," he was more of a pleaser but now that he had you, he had to take his time with you, had to have you to submit to him. "Please Daddy, I need you, I want you," the pitiful tone of your voice surprised you, but the reaction of his body let you know just how much he liked it. It was impossible to miss the twitch of his length against you or feel his hands tightening, the sound of a heavy breath escaping his lungs.

Once again you found yourself facing him, being pulled onto his lap, on hand on your hips and the other one caressing your face. The grip on your chin wasn't harsh, just strong enough to keep you in place. His soft thumb stroked over your bottom lip, pupils dilated as he watched it bounce back in place and glistering from your saliva.

If he wasn't in love with you already he definitely would be by now. He didn't give you the chance to say another word as his lips came crushing into yours, molding together perfectly. It felt electrifying and intense, a kiss filled with passion and hunger. Wandering hands grabbed your ass and as a soft moan graced his ears he slipped his tongue into your mouth, tips colliding and swirling around one another. Kirishima pulled you closer to him as your hand went into his hair, the other one tugging on his shirt.

"So eager," he whispered against your lips, happy to comply to your wishes and pulling off his shirt in one swift motion, your eyes not knowing where to look at first. Your attention was quickly occupied again by his hand slipping under your shirt, going along your side, up to your chest while he once again interlocked your lips.

The moans slipping into his mouth as his thumb circled over your nipple were fuel on fire and as much as he enjoyed taking his time with you, he will have all the time in the world with you from now on. The big man had waited so ling for this moment, had dreamed about this situation, spend so many hours thinking about it during the day. His mind was filled with you as was his heart, how you laugh, how you talk, how you taste. Oh, he had to know how you taste and he knew if he waited one too many seconds he might destroy you with the lust inside of him.

Strong arms secured you as he stood up, walking over to his dinning table and sitting you down on it. „It would only be fair for you to get undressed too,“ Kirishima mumbled against your lips, hands already at the hem of it and pulling it up. A few curses fell from his lips as he saw that you weren’t wearing a bra under the shirt. Pushing you down gentle his lips landed on your neck again, kissing the slightly swollen mark. He couldn’t help it, the view was so hot, he had to give you another one. You’re his, only his, nobody will take you away now. Nobody can. And even if they dared to try he will rip them apart.

As the red haired man continues to work his way down, he stopped at your naked chest. While giving one nipple bites, kisses and soft flicks of his tongue, the other one got attention through his hands, pinching and circling them. The movements had you gasping for ear, your legs wrapping around him and pulling him into you.

„Daddy I need more,“ you whimpered, making him kiss the valley between your breasts, down your stomach, before he stopped above the only fabric left on you. Your underwear was discarded in a second, the sound of fabric ripping made you look at him. His ruby red eyes were fixated on your glistering cunt, licking his lips as the thought of your pussy on his tastebuds.

Taking a seat in front of you it looked like you were the dessert he had been craving for years, never finding the right one. But now here he was, ready to devour you and hear you moans, have you gush over him. „Legs over my shoulders,“ he tapped them, grabbing the soft flesh of your thighs as you obeyed his order. „Good girl,“ Eijiro groaned, kissing the spots close to your core before his lips finally met your clit.

The cunnilingus he gave you made you feel like you were send to heaven and back. His sharp tongue knew exactly what to do, knew where to be at the right time. Nails dug into your skin and you were sure by the end of it Kirishima’s marks would be prominent for the next week. The small amount of pain intensified your pleasure and the first orgasm crashed down on you faster than ever. You were hoping for him to give you a small break, your whole body on fire but he was far from being done.

Wrapping his lips around your sensitive spot he sucked slightly, pulling a sinful moan from the back of your throat which caused his rock hard dick to twitch in his grey sweatpants. Not yet, he thought, slipping a long, thick finger inside you, while lapping at your clit.

You didn’t expect to feel so filled by just two of his finger inside you. But it came to no surprise as just the palm of his hand is as big as your whole, two fingers as thick as four of yours. Two minutes, that’s how much it took to make you cum for the first time, moaning out his new nickname and pulling on his hair. Kirishima didn’t give you time to come, a break was the last he would think of in this moment. Before you knew it another wave of pleasure crashed down upon you, making your legs clamp down. Well, you tried, but he didn’t really had to try to keep them apart.

„Does that feel good? You like that?“ the question was rhetorical, your body had answered it long ago. Your fourth orgasm was about to hit anytime now as his mouth was glistering from your wetness, licking it all up. He wouldn’t really call it mocking, but it amused and aroused him at the time seeing you so fucked, not able to form a full sentence, yet alone answering his question.

And there it was. The knot in your stomach released itself, eyes rolling in the back of your head, a single tear sliding down the side of your face. Slurred words, a mixture of curse words, affection and his name made him feel as powerful as ever. He did this, only with his fingers and tongue.

„Tsk, would you look at that princess, you made a mess,“ was the first thing you heard after you came down from your high, the white spots slowly disappearing. With a heavy breath you looked down, watching as his cleaned his lower lip with his thumb before licking your juice off of it. Eijiro was right: he was wet, drenched even. Your lover made you squirt and the look of ecstasis written across his face was something you could never forget. „I’m sorry-,“ before you could say another word he pulled you up to him with his hand around your neck, locking your lips and pulling your lower body closer to him, allowing his now freed dick to slip in between your folds. Dragging it slowly up and down made you jolt and whine against his lips, trying to pull away as electric like shocks went through your veins, the pleasure overwhelming.

„That was the hottest thing I have seen. If I wasn’t this horny for you I would make you squirt again,“ he told you, chuckling slightly when he saw your eyes widening at the sight of his boner.

You knew he was big, at least nine inches, but it was his thickness that had you speechless. Without the foreplay there was no way he would fit inside of you and even now you knew he had to be slow at first or else you might pass out.

„Don’t worry, I will be gentle… At first,“ a small smirk graced his face, his tip now at your entrance. Laying down his soft sweatpants before laying you down he made sure you were laying comfortably. Thighs against his stomach, knees on his shoulders with his body towering over yours, almost touching but leaving enough space for Kirishima to look at him slowly slipping inside of you.

Drawing small circles on your thigh and clit helped soothing you as he went in inch by inch. He was taken by surprise when you pushed yourself onto him, taking in the last couple of inches at once. „So you want it that way huh? All you had to do was ask,“ with that he was lost in his own word.

His thrusts weren’t fast at first, they were hard, hitting your g-spot over and over and over again. Eijiro either went with a rhythm of song stuck in his head or did whatever felt right, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you didn’t want him to stop. As quick as you put your legs down to lessen the immense pleasure, as quick he had both of your ankles in his hand, putting them over his right shoulder. Thick fingers caressing the soft flesh of your neck, feeling your pulse against the tip of his fingers, before wrapping around your throat completely. With the current position your pussy was even tighter, giving him the opportunity to hit deeper than before. Whenever he was balls deep inside of you wet slapping sounds filled the room, just like a mix of the moans of the two of you. Your scents mixed together, his room spray not standing a chance, even though your favorite smell hit your nose once in a while. What a funny coincidence, you thought later on.

„M about to cum,“ you slurred, a particular hard thrust sending you over the edge yet again, your throbbing cunt adding to his lust. „Who do you belong to? Who’s your daddy?“ He grunted, as his hips were snapping again and again. Your neck was released for a short moment to wipe away the few tears at the corner of your eye that just spilled over the edge.

„You, ah, you Eijiro,“ the o was quickly blending with yet another moan. If you didn’t know any better you would think he was a son of Eros. He definitely looked like a half god the way he was pounding into you, body glistering from the film of sweat and red strands of hair framing his face perfectly.

„That’s right, you’re mine. Only I can fuck you this good, only I can love you, only I can touch you,“ he said through gritted teeth, his possessiveness coming through. Kirishima could feel himself getting closer and closer to his own orgasm, dick twitching and hips titubating as your walls tightened around him.

„Mh, my good girl, just a little more, you can take it,“ you shook your head, feeling slightly dizzy and have one thought in your head: his name. There wasn’t even energy left in you to close your mouth properly. Something he saw as an invitation, his middle and ring finger slipping inside, your moans sending soft vibrations through them straight to his still hard length buried inside your cunt.

So many possibilities for him to cum on. You would look so pretty with his cum on your stomach, or when it drips from your face onto your chest. Your ass would look delicious that way too. One day he will find out what his favorite view is, but the first has to be special. He had to fill you up, mark your insides, had to make you his out and out.

„Let go, it’s okay. Daddy got you,“ finally. Your nails dug into his skin, vision blurry as your body started shaking from the last wave of pleasure for the night. He let go himself at the same time, pumping you full with his cum, a few lazy strokes following before he halted, his cock still inside you. Deep, shaky breath helped him come down from his dream like orgasm. Your pussy was magic, nobody could convince him otherwise. Maybe this won’t be your last time for tonight, maybe he will have you again once you laid down in bed. For now all he wanted to do was to hold you close, care for you and make you feel his love for you.

Pulling you into his strong arms he pulled out a bottle of water, taking a few sips himself before slowly letting the cool liquid hit your mouth and throat. Soft words of affirmation were whispered in your ear while he petted your head, massaging your scalp softly and kissing your forehead.

„You did so well for me baby,“ Kirishima mumbled against your lips, making sure you took another sip of water. You were still in bliss when he carried you to the bathroom, filling up the bathtub and sitting down with you between his thick thighs. While he was gently cleaning you realization hit him: Finally, after all this time you were with him. This wasn’t another dream. This was reality.

It broke his heart to see you cry the next morning when all the doors were locked. You told him you loved him too and you never would want to leave his side under no circumstances. He believed you, you would never lie to him. But the outside was too big, too scary for you. The intruder could still be after you and try to take you away from him. Kirishima knew you will forgive him eventually, after all he loves you and that should be enough for you. He is enough for you. You will understand eventually. He couldn’t risk loosing you again.

459 notes · View notes

pwarkluv · 3 years

Text

❝ crush on you - l.mk ❞

lee mark x reader | fluff | 1.4k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, idol au, love at first sight au, mature language/cursing, westernartist!reader, mark is a shy bby, soft!mark, lowkey shy!reader bc lol, ANOTHER REQUEST YAY!!

REQUEST | “love your writing! do you mind taking a request of mine? it’s where mark sees a western artist at an award show or function and he has a crush on her and wants to get with her before nct goes back to korea… thank you” - anon <3

SUMMARY | his little heart has a crush on you :)

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “crush on you” by soul fro and dum di dum! IM SO EXCITED THIS IS ANOTHER REQUEST!! THANK YOU ANON ILY <3 hopefully this meets your expectations :) i actually don’t know how award shows in the states work even though i’m literally from america so this might be slightly inaccurate lol. anyways thank you for supporting me crappy writing ahfkjdh i love you <33

mark had no idea what it was about you that captured his fragile little heart. you, the tiny first time nominee at the ama’s.

nct 127 was once again nominated for an award at the western convention, the team touring around the area as well. the red carpet was flooded with cameras, flashes and intense yells for attention was the only thing mark could hear.

but the moment you started walking down the silk road, it was like all of the sound buzzed down to a silence.

❝ my heart has a little crush on you ❞

you were the only thing the boy could see.

your soft pink gown clashed with the intense red on the floor, the pretty floral print around the chest and waist of the dress all the more brought out your skin tone. your hair was left in pretty curls and mark could’ve sworn he saw a pink flower pin somewhere in there too.

the shy smile you let out the moment the paparazzi noticed you made mark’s heart race, hearing them ask you how you felt about your first ama’s since your debut.

so she’s a newbie, mark thought knowing that was the reason he’s never seen you before.

“how does it feel to be nominated for your first award?” a man asked, flashes all around you. your heart was racing with fear.

don’t fuck up now, you thought to yourself before smiling.

“if i’m being honest, i’m terrified.” you answered truthfully, watching as the group of people in front of you nodded in understanding. “but i’m super excited and grateful to be here, so the nerves don’t really matter.” you awkwardly continued as some cooed at your shyness.

“now i must say that’s a beautiful dress you have on.” a woman with a microphone said causing you to blush.

“ahh thank you!” you gushed, turning to her with warm cheeks. “i was scared it might be too much but my stylist insisted i wear it.”

“well you’re stunning.” the woman winked before a certain group of boys caught her eye. “good luck today y/n! hopefully this will be your first win.” she said before floating to the korean boys a couple feet away.

“thank you!” you called out, watching her go to the group of boys ahead of you.

curiosity struck you knowing you had no clue who they were. once you made it past the runway, you sneaked a look at the group only to have your breath taken away.

they were gorgeous, especially the one in the front.

his big brown doe eyes were shining under the lights and even though they were all wearing the same back suit and tie, this boy seemed to stand out to you.

❝ so immature but these butterflies they keep me laughing ❞

“hey lauren?” you nudge your manager. “who’s that?” you secretly point, not wanting to draw attention.

“oh that’s mark lee from nct 127. they’re the korean boy group that’s nominated for an award.” your manager replied.

she then pokes your sides as she smirks. “don’t tell me you have a thing for the canadian dude!” she says and you yelp from the impact.

“HE’S CANADIAN TOO?” you whispered-shouted to the girl, a little taken aback. so he’s handsome and most likely knows how to speak english?

“it’s always the damn canadians.” you grumbled under your breath as your manager laughed knowing this might be the start of something new.

“hyung remember that girl from the runway with the pink floral dress?” mark asks one of their managers. the man nods, a little confused by the question.

“how can you not?” the man jokes, mark nodding with a small smile.

“do you happen to know her name?” the boy asks as

his manager gives him a look. “where is this going mark?”

“no where i swear i just want to know who she is.” mark said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“hmm okay well i’m pretty sure her name is y/n.” his manager responds before being asked by another staff member for something.

“y/n.” mark said hazily, liking how your name sounds on his tongue.

mark was in love. there was no other way to describe this feeling. while waiting in their waiting rooms for the show to start, mark took the time to look up your music.

and god was he mad he didn’t know who you were before.

your songs were incredible and your voice held a certain fragility that made mark wanna give you a hug.

she better win, he thought to himself as they were ushered out of the waiting room and into the award show.

“oh my god oh my god oh my god.” you whispered to yourself as your heart raced. the award you were nominated in was about to be called and you wished you could hide in a hole and disappear from the crowd.

your manager sensed your nerves and squeezed your hand, silently letting you know she’d be there for you through anything. you softly smiled as you felt your nerves subside.

“and the winner is…” the man called out, purposefully slowing down a bit to create suspense.

mark knew this was the category you were nominated in, and the moment they were about to reveal the winner he held his breath.

please be y/n, he thought in his head as the announcer took another breath.

“y/n!” and if it wasn’t for his self-strength, mark could’ve sworn he would’ve jumped up in joy.

❝ my heart wrote a little song for you ❞

mark couldn’t keep his eyes off you throughout the entire award show. in fact, he was a little worried someone would notice because of how painfully obvious he was being.

but it’s not like you were any better. whenever mark would look away, you’d be looking at him.

“just talk to him.” your manager lauren complained, sick of the heart eyes you’d send to the boy.

so oblivious, she thought rolling her eyes. even she had seen the way he’d sneak glances at you as well.

“shhh.” you hushed her, looking around. it was nearing the end of the convention but you didn’t want to risk anyone over hearing her.

“i don’t know laur, he probably hasn’t even noticed me.” you quietly sighed feeling a bit down.

why would he? you’re just a newbie while he’s been in the industry for years.

“oh you’d be surprised.” the girl responded, shaking her head at your stupidity.

“are you y/n’s manager?” a man asked, stopping the woman. raising an eyebrow lauren motioned you too keep walking backstage to your dressing room.

how odd, you thought walking away.

“yes i am. why what’s going on.” lauren replied hesitantly.

the man let out a sigh of relief before continuing. “i’m one of the managers for nct 127 and let’s be honest,” he said letting the woman relax. she saw where this was heading.

“mark and y/n are head over heels for each other.” they both said at the same time.

“you noticed mark’s glances?” he asked in surprise.

“duh who wouldn’t?” she replied causing the man to laugh.

“y/n wouldn’t.” he said back causing them two to formulate a plan.

“y/n i have someone i’d like to introduce to you.” your manager said walking into your dressing room. you sat lazily on the couch still in your dress, your toes aching from being in those heels for hours.

“what’s up lauren?” you asked looking up from your phone.

“meet mark from nct 127.”

and just like that your heart jumped.

❝ won’t you take a listen ❞

the two of you stood awkwardly in front of each other not really knowing what to say. your managers had set you up, playing off the fact that they themselves have gotten along quite well and would like for their artists to meet.

“hey-“

“hi-“

you both started at the same time. you immediately flushed rushing to let him go first.

“uh you can go first.” you timidly responded.

“no you.” mark replied just as embarrassed.

“good grief just ask for each other’s numbers.” the two managers hollered in unison, cringing at the awkwardness in the air.

“y-you wanna get lunch sometime soon?” mark asked with sudden confidence.

❝ and dance with me to the rhythm ❞

you smiled causing him to smile back. “duh.”

151 notes · View notes

the-seas-song · 3 years

Text

Richard Armitage and Astrology

Hi! I find astrology fascinating, and am an armchair expert on it myself, so I found Richard's comments in his recent Total Film Magazine interview very interesting. This is what he said:

I’ve been incredibly lucky. I’ve dabbled with having my celestial chart looked at every couple of years, just for a little tune-up. Every time, the guy sighs, and goes, “What can I say? You’ve just got a sprinkle of luck.” And I say, “That’s good, because I don’t have the talent, so I really need the luck!”

[cut]

There is a naughty, dark side to me. I am quite strongly affected by the moon. So if there’s a full moon I’ll go a bit crazy. (source)

This isn't the first time Richard's mentioned astrology – he's mentioned being a Leo, reading his daily horoscope, and finding out he was born in the Chinese Year of the Pig; but these were all informal twitter comments. He has also mentioned the effect the moon has on him before, in February 2020:

“Everyone has cycles of positive mental and emotional feelings and negative mental and emotional feelings and I know that I am profoundly affected on a monthly cycle. I always look at the calendar when I'm feeling particularly low and check the lunar cycle to see if it's a full or new moon.” (source)

However, what prompted me to write this is that Richard's personal put-downs were even more direct here than usual; and the connection that has to his natal, or birth, chart.

A little disclaimer: Personally, I think general horoscopes (like the ones you find in magazines) do far more harm than good. They are based solely on the twelve sun signs, and your sun sign is just one puzzle piece out of 25+ pieces that make up your natal chart. This is why many people don't relate to their horoscope or it's personality description.

Your natal chart, however, is a whole different animal. It's an intricate puzzle created by the exact date, time, and location you were born; which is why most people find their natal charts to be scarily accurate.

Back during the Hobbit days, a fan blog reported that Richard told a NZ fan that his birth time was just after 4 a.m. I used 4:05 for this post, and being off by a few minutes doesn't really make a difference.

Richard and self-esteem

I really feel for and relate to Richard's self-esteem struggles, because our charts mirror each other. We are both Leo suns; but I have my moon in Aries with my MC and Chiron conjunct each other in Virgo and sextile my North Node; while Richard has his moon in Virgo with his MC and Chiron conjunct each other in Aries and sextile his North Node.

What on earth does that mean?

Each planet represents a different part of you. The sun represents your ego/conscious self; the moon your emotions, mercury your mind/intellect, venus love and beauty/aesthetics, mars passion and drive, etc.

On top of the twelve planets, there are specific points and asteroids that are also important. Your MC, or Midheaven, represents your career and public persona. Your North Node describes your inner journey and life purpose. The asteroid Chiron describes your major soul wound, that you will be forced to deal with throughout your life.

A conjunction and a sextile are two of several different kinds of aspects. The different kinds of aspects are the different ways your respective puzzle pieces can interact with each other. Some are 'easy/positive' and some 'difficult/negative'. A sextile is considered easy/positive. A conjunction means two things are next to each other and overlap with one another, and is usually considered positive.

Leo and Aries are both fire signs. Fire signs are generally playful, warm, passionate, confident, and optimistic. Virgo is an earth sign. Earth signs are generally practical, grounded, sensual, and logical.

Richard's personality is dominated by an almost equal amount of Leo and Virgo influence, with both his sun (core self) and venus (love and beauty) in Leo and his moon (emotions) and mercury (mind) in Virgo.

Aries and Virgo are said to be the most difficult Chiron signs, because they are the wounds tied directly to your self-worth (Aries is the wound of Self and Virgo is the wound of Perfection). With Aries Chiron you feel a core sense of worthlessness, like you're missing a fundamental piece of your core self. This deeply felt lack of self-worth leads people to be people pleasers and have issues with confrontation and conflict.

Aries rules the planet mars. It is the warrior planet of passion, drive, and combat. A conventional Aries is confident, outgoing, impulsive, and strong willed. Aries and mars are definitely the rowdiest sign and planet in the zodiac. However, with Chiron here the traits are inverted, and so someone like Richard is much more likely to be scared of his inner passion, confidence, and willpower – depending, of course, on what the rest of his chart is like.

That leads us to Virgo. Chiron Virgo feels impure, like there is something fundamentally wrong with them. This kind of low self-esteem makes you feel like you have to constantly try to 'fix' yourself so people will love and accept you. It's an OCD type of perfectionism that only ends in failure and heartbreak.

A good example of how this works is when I talked to my therapist recently. I hadn't quite succeeded in meeting my goals, and so my automatic response was to condemn myself for failing. My therapists immediate response was to congratulate me on how much progress I had made.

Ironically, unlike with Aries, this isn't an inversion of the conventional Virgo. Conventional Virgo is meticulous, detail-oriented, focused, patient, efficient, practical, perfectionistic, systematic, and pessimistic with high expectations. If Aries is the official warrior of the zodiac, Virgo is the official nit-picker.

This means that Richard's subconscious intellectually (mercury) and emotionally (moon) expects and demands perfection, whilst simultaneously feeling fundamentally worthless. In short: ouch.

Interestingly, a significant number of celebrities have their Chiron conjunct their MC. Personally, I think Richard hit the nail on the head as to why in his essay on the Human Condition for Cybersmile:

The answer in my humble opinion, (and believe me it is humble, to a point of taking 43 years to be shared) is actually something which applies to my work as an actor. It’s why sometimes actors are called in to work with therapists, in large corporations, in schools. It’s why drama therapy is fantastic to understand what we do, how we do it and what the outcome might be, and in an improvisation where we aren’t playing ourselves sometimes we explore avenues that are too frightening or unacceptable in our own lives.

[cut]

So going back to my very first point, the “social media society” in which we’d all like to feel safe, supported, excited, creative, spontaneous, innovative, courageous, is really in our own hands. And back to acting, it’s taken me a long time to shake off the effects of bullying in school. That people were always laughing behind my back. I was always looking out of the corner of my eye. I now have incredible peripheral vision which is so useful, (as is Kinesthetic sense…Google it) but try being a brave, experimental, uninhibited actor with all of those hang ups. Wasn’t happening.

So here is the thing, and it’s key to my work and I think ours as a community. When we speak or write, we ultimately desire to ‘affect’. If we aren’t watching the destination of that affect, then how do we know our words have landed and the ‘effect’ they have caused?

[cut]

If I have a strong opinion about something which I want to express I really task myself with backing it up with the ‘why do I feel that?’

Again it’s part of my work building a believable character, and actually part of building a believable ‘me’ outside of my work. Just.. “because that’s what I feel” is a bit of a cop out.

[cut]

As for Bullying, it’s like the moment the pot boils over, or it’s the poisoned stream that can’t be cleansed, so why bother. Well I think that’s what art is for. It’s can support the best and the worst of ourselves. We can ‘attack’ a canvas with black angry paint, we can ‘savage’ a piano keyboard, we can dance until we drop, we can read about a Puritan society who executed elders, we can explore the psychology of a serial killer, and when we can’t do this ourselves we can experience it, and witness it through others.

It’s more than being nice. Edward Munch’s “The Scream” is far from nice. Francisco Goya’s “Saturn” is horrific, Metallica, Die Antwoort etc etc. But then there is Monet, Faure, Renée Fleming, Peter Jackson, Ariana Grande (ok it’s getting a bit eclectic I admit) but when we look, listen and empathize, we tune in to the Human Condition.

We are all part of The Human Condition, whether we like it or not. Social Media. Expression. The Human Condition.

Us human beings are wired for emotion and connection. For actors, their career gives them a way to safely process and explore their personal wounds through the characters they play. For Richard in particular, his mars is conjunct his North Node. So, his mars and North Node are sextile his Chiron and MC.

Remember, Aries (the sign of Richard's Chiron and MC) is ruled by mars. Mars is the warrior planet, like Aries is the warrior sign. This means that Richard's spiritual journey/life's purpose (North Node) deals directly with healing his soul wound so he can accept and embrace his inner confidence and willpower. This explains why he ends up playing a lot of ultra-masculine characters – mars/Aries are the most macho of them all.

This isn't to say I think Richard should change who he is! I wouldn't be interested in him if he was ultra-masculine or macho. However, for his own sake, I would be overjoyed to see him gain more self-esteem and inner confidence.

Extrapolating from my own personal experiences, the constant criticism and judgement I received during my adolescence from my peers and various authority figures (like family members and teachers) for being unconventional and 'over the top' caused me to turn on myself and repress my passion and will-power for several years. I think it's highly likely that Richard experienced this too.

Here are some quotes from Richard that illustrate everything I've been talking about (emphasis is mine):

Armitage is still notably handsome, but, within minutes of meeting him, it’s apparent how incongruous it is that this bookish, sensitive, self-described ‘melancholic, philosophically-minded softie’ and ardent fan of The Great British Bake Off was cast as beefcake killer totty for a considerable part of his career. ‘It’s ridiculous. It’s the complete opposite to who I am. I’m such a pacifist,’ he laughs. ‘But then, part of me always felt: “Well, isn’t that why we’re actors?”

[cut]

'I think the turning point was losing my mum,” he says. “Up until that point, I felt like I mustn’t put a foot wrong, that if I said the wrong thing or revealed too much about my personal life, it could all come crashing down, and it would come down on my parents, and they wouldn’t be proud of me anymore.” He shrugs. “Now that I’m past that I’m actually much more carefree about the choices I make.” (source)

Richard Armitage puts his head in his hands and emits a noise that's somewhere between a sigh, a laugh and a groan. “Oh no! Why would you want to pin this up?” he says with a horrified whisper.

[cut]

Never has a man seemed more ill at ease with the heartthrob label. He squirms with embarrassment in his chair every time the subject comes up. He is grateful for the loyalty of his fans, he says, but worries that “there is this thing of, 'Is he just totty?' Because the industry will sometimes write you off as a serious actor if they think that. I have always been conscious of that and fought against it, because I don't really see myself like that at all.”

[cut]

This brings us back to Astrov, who looks so relentless towards the future that he can't see the truth in front of his eyes. “It's interesting that he's an outsider in the play. I've often felt like that myself in life. I'm quite a solitary person. I enjoy my time with me, and sometimes it's not necessarily healthy, because I can talk myself into quite a dark place.

I'm an optimist, but at the same time, there's a discipline in me that will attack me for not working hard enough, not achieving enough, not being good enough. You always think, 'I'll grow out of that. With success, those voices will disappear.' But they don't, they get louder. I suppose I'm learning a bit about myself through Astrov.” (source)

The answer in my humble opinion, (and believe me it is humble, to a point of taking 43 years to be shared) is actually something which applies to my work as an actor. … And back to acting, it’s taken me a long time to shake off the effects of bullying in school. That people were always laughing behind my back. I was always looking out of the corner of my eye. I now have incredible peripheral vision which is so useful, (as is Kinesthetic sense…Google it) but try being a brave, experimental, uninhibited actor with all of those hang ups. Wasn’t happening. (Human Condition essay)

So I kind of travelled on that line for a while, and I was bullied for it as well. The problem with me is that as soon as you try to push me down or say “you can’t do this” and “I don’t think you should do that”, I immediately push back. So I did – I’d decided really young that I was going to try to make a career out of it.

[cut]

Actually, there was something I wanted to add to what Shaun said, about inclusivity, is that um, no matter how – how much confidence you have or how, in my case, lack. Y’know, I always felt like a misfit, or an oddball, or that I didn’t belong. But I always – I always told myself that ‘you exist in the world, so therefore there’s a place for you in this industry’. I think anybody who feels like, “I can’t become an actor because…” – you exist. And, y’know, the job of filmmakers is to write about our life and society, and if you are a part of that, then there’s a place for you in the industry. (source)

I'm a bit of a brooder. I don't like confrontation, so I think I suppress things. When my temper does come out, it goes all the way – the kind of temper you can't apologize for. Yep, the chair getting thrown out of the window. Those emotions are scary, but hey, they come in useful when you're acting. (source)

Armitage is a noticeably calm presence but he talks with passion.

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In the past, he has described himself as a shy person. “Not any more,” he says forcefully. “I mean… if I’m very, very honest, I’m a big guy, I think I’m at times quite a frightening person.”

In what way?

“I think I’m quite uncompromising. I can’t bear bulls---. And in a way the shyness is me protecting other people from that. I can feel that there’s an intimidation that can happen if I own my full height, and speak at my full volume. So I’ve learned over the years to just tone it all down a bit.” (source)

I've become one of those actors who find it difficult to say no when things are offered. I think if I had come out of drama school and been an instant Hollywood superstar I would be taking long, leisurely holidays. But I always feel somehow it's going to be taken away from me so I work when I can. When you struggled with work as I did when I left drama school you make hay when the sun shines. There was a time when I thought, and my agent thought, it wasn't going to happen for me. We both sat down and I actually said I don't know if I can stay in this state. The interesting roles have only come since I got into my 30s. But I didn't know that was going to happen. I'm a bit of an all or nothing kind of guy. To be honest, I had no blind faith in myself. I don't think I could have stayed around as a jobbing actor. I would probably have quit. Who knows? I think I would have found that too frustrating. But at the moment when I thought I was going to quit, something happened and it all changed again. (source)

[talking about being cast in the Hobbit]

There was a little bit of guidance as to what they were looking for. I felt that I was too young for the character, too tall for that character, so I thought, you know, ‘I’ll just look at the scene they’ve written’. And then I realised the essence of the character that they were aiming for. So I went to meet Peter and Phillipa and we read some of the scenes. I think we spent an hour-and-a-half talking about the character and what their vision was, and I sort of explained who I thought he was, and that was it.

[cut]

Yeah, my first instinct, whenever that kind of thing happens, is to say, 'Well what's wrong with the part? Why did nobody else want it'? Which is kind of the story of my life really. When I get offered something, I'm like, 'Well there must be something wrong with it if they're offering it to me!'

[cut]

But you know, the thing is, you talk about all of this: ‘How did you get the role? And how did it feel when you got the role?’ And once all that’s died down you start to think, ‘I’ve actually got to go and play this now’. They’ve trusted me. Everyone’s happy, everyone’s celebrated, the phones have gone down and the deal’s been done. Now it’s over to me to make the role work. And that’s the scariest moment, because you do have that elation and then the work begins and you think, ‘How the hell am I going to do this?’ (source)

How was it for you taking on this beloved role, this character that has such a huge responsibilty on his back? Could you relate in some ways?

Richard Armitage: Yeah. There is always building within him this paranoia that he’s not a good enough leader, and that weighs him down. I have experienced that same feeling as an actor in this role. And I was aware of taking on the responsibility of that character, so there was something I could latch onto there, as one of the people who loved ‘The Hobbit’ book and had envisioned that character. It took me a while to be convinced that I could do it, it wasn’t until I saw some sketches, this one particular pencil sketch….there was something about this characters eyes and the way that his hands are crossed, I thought, “I think I can do this, I can pull this off.” (source)

Q: I wanted to ask you about what your Arkenstone is. For you personally.

A: Me personally?

Q: And I meant for this to be materialistic. What's the thing that you covet so much that it makes you mad that you don't have it?

A: Well, it's actually not material. It's not material, and it's – (laughs) You want a comedy answer, don't you? But it's respect. It's the thing that always eludes you, you know. You have to fight for it and when you get it, your arkenstone, the thing that crowns you, is respect.

Q: And also a sweater.

A: And a sweater. I do have this little natty number.

Q: It's a good one man.

A: Tom Ford made this personally. But hey, he can have it back. I don't covet wealth and material. (source)

Q6: You’ve done a variety of different roles, I wonder what influences you to pursue those roles?

R: More often than not, you go where you’re wanted. So getting hired is still kind of a revelation to me, a shock and a surprise. Sometimes you have very flat periods, where I don’t really care what comes next, I just want to work on something. I feel like I’ve got a little cloud of luck over my head so the right thing always seems to come along. But again, I’m easily excited about literature and stories, so I’ve always said I don’t really pursue glory, I’d happily do acting for two people in my living room if it was a role that I really enjoyed with a story I’d really like to tell. So it’s chance, I would say.

[cut]

Q8: Once in an interview about Thorin, you were asked what your arkenstone was and your answer was respect. I like this answer a lot. So I was wondering what’s your red dragon? As you said yesterday he’s a character who sheds his skin, improves, and becomes something. I was wondering if there was something you’d like to improve, become?

R: I guess the antithesis of that is disrespect. Do you mean in myself?

Q8: Yes.

R: Yeah I try not to be too disrespectful. I guess I value the truth. I think we’re living at a time at the moment where the truth is warped and there’s a word that’s been in my head for a long time, and particularly recently it’s come to the surface. When I was studying Macbeth, at the RSC, I read a long thesis about the gunpowder plot, which was one of the things they thought that Shakespeare (or whoever Shakespeare was) was stimulated by to write Macbeth. And the word equivocation was used in this thesis, it was actually about equivocation and what equivocation is. And if you look it up in the dictionary, at the moment most politicians are equivocating. When you don’t answer a question, or you bend the truth to make it seem like you are answering the question, and in fact you’re telling a lie. So I would say my red dragon would be equivocation.

[cut]

Then there was the physical form that I was studying and observing, but also, I do sometimes enjoy locking myself away in a room and reading a book or just doing something alone, and you sometimes can go a couple of days without speaking to anybody. I don’t know whether anyone else experiences this or whether I’m just a weirdo. But I find that when that happens my voice changes, and I always forget how to make a noise, I have to do a warm-up before I go into the world and start speaking again.

[cut]

Q15: I was wondering if you ever had to pull out of a project because it felt wrong or something, and what is the point where you say “nope I can’t do this”?

R: Um, no. But that’s partly to do with the fact that I have a lot of loyalty, probably too much loyalty for my own good, really, and there’ve been moment when I’ve been on board a project, and actually it happened this year with The Lodge, I was already on board that project and something else came along which was bigger and better and brighter and more money, and your agent says “look we can pull you out of The Lodge, they can probably recast it,” and here I think “I’ve already started this process, I don’t want to let people down,” and I don’t have a problem with that at all, I never have any regrets over the things that you miss or the things that you decide not to do, I think there’s a strong enough reason why you’ve decided not to do it, but in general no I haven’t ever pulled out of something. There was one television show I remember, I’m not going to say what it is, but after the first readthrough, I did call my agent and asked, “can I get out of this?” And then he quickly got back to me and said, “don’t do it. Don’t build a reputation built on disloyalty.” So I try not to.

[cut]

Q18: I think you are very handsome, but your character Francis hated the way he looked, how did that make you feel?

R: Francis hated the way he looked? Yeah. I guess there is something we relate to in that. Without getting too personal, I don’t always enjoy looking at myself in the mirror. I don’t do it very often, to be honest. I do it just to be sure I don’t have food on my face. I do it in character, actually. I do spend a bit of time studying my own face when I’m playing a character, which is interesting because your face does change. (source)

He cannot see the handsomeness: “I think I am odd-looking. I have big lines on my forehead.” I squint, looking for them, but he is talking over me, sounding slightly panicked. “I shouldn’t draw attention to it, because then everyone else will see the oddness.”

[cut]

Laziness is what makes him angry: “Laziness in myself. Laziness in other people. And dishonesty. All things I feel capable of myself. I have a propensity to be lazy and lie about it. Fear makes me rageful. There are words in The Crucible I actually find it quite hard to say.” I beg for an example — The Crucible is in the public domain. “No,” he says, “you’ll see it in the play.” I tell him it will make no sense in print if he will not tell me. But he won’t. So I change the subject. It works. “OK, I will give you a line.” He inflates a little and says: “Is there no good penitence but it be public?” And then: “Were I stone I would have cracked for shame this seven month.” (source)

Q: How would you describe your evolution as an actor since you started?

A: I think everything has to do with the fact that today I’m not afraid anymore. At first, I was embarrassed to do something wrong or do things badly or make myself ridiculous. Today, I am almost looking for opportunities to be ridiculous or vulnerable or to make as much of a mistake as possible. In a sense, it’s now the opposite of being undercover.

Q: Are you the actor you dreamed of being when you started?

A: Not yet. I am not yet fearless enough. It’s in waves, actually. But I have already approached this dream. There were moments, especially during Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, which I performed on stage, where I felt I had no control over things. That’s what I’m looking for: to lose control.

Q: You often play bad guys. What do you like in these characters?

A: I like disobedience. I like the fact that you can be disobedient thanks to your creativity. As a person, I must always be polite in life, be careful and correct so as not to hurt anyone. In a fantasy world, I can be as offensive as I want. It’s an outlet. (Laughter)

[cut]

Q: Many actors are moving to directing. Is this also your goal?

A: I would like to, but I do not think I’m smart enough. I am good when it comes to working with another’s vision. I do not think I have that creative spontaneity that creates a vision from scratch. But the future will tell. (source)

I applaud Richard for being so open and direct about his fears and insecurities. It takes a lot of bravery to do so. And while I've seen some fans get annoyed with his continual self-deprecation, I think his honesty and openness is much more significant, and shows his inner strength. He doesn't try to pretend to be someone he's not.

He recently described himself as “patient, obsessive, and silly” (source). The patient part is classic Virgo, and the obsessive part comes from an element of his natal chart that I have not mentioned.

The silly part, however, is classic Leo. Like I said above, he has an almost equal amount of Leo and Virgo in his personality. Personally, I'm proud to be a Leo, but I also know we get misunderstood a lot of the time. I wrote the following for an essay of mine on Leos in Disney:

Your sun sign represents your core identity. Just like the physical sun is the center of the solar system and its energy creates life, the astrological sun is our consciousness and life force. Each of the twelve sun signs are ruled by a different planet and element.

Since Leo is the fixed fire sign, we don't inherit the reckless and impulsive nature of fire, but instead are a steady flame. No sign is more reckless and impulsive than Aries, because they have the double combination of being a cardinal sign and a fire sign. Meanwhile, all four of the fixed signs struggle with stubbornness and admitting when their wrong.

Leo's are well known to be natural leaders and the rulers of the zodiac. We are ruled by the sun and our animal is the lion. We dream big and are born with big personalities, and we can't help but be theatrical and dramatic. This means we are always self-centered in the sense of being strong-willed and having a strong sense of self. It does not mean all Leos are egotistical.

Unhealthy Leo traits all revolve around the ego: attention-seeking, egotistical, selfish, bossy, controlling, pushy, jealous, possessive, lazy, vain, arrogant, aggressive, and obstinate.

Healthy Leos, however, are known for our fire-based traits – being animated, theatrical, happy, outgoing, independent, competitive, charismatic, creative, open-minded, open-hearted, confident, assertive, playful, warm, social, courageous, idealistic, affectionate, romantic, optimistic, and adventurous.

What isn't often talked about is our steadiness, our fixed-based traits. Leos are authentic, steadfast, fiercely loyal and protective, consistent, persistent, full-hearted, dedicated, need to do their best, generous and selfless, honorable and moral, genuine and direct, extremely supportive, hard-working and responsible, dignified, strong-willed, and ambitious and determined.

Something that is often mentioned but highly misunderstood is our trait of courage. Having courage doesn't mean you're fearless or reckless. The definition of courage is “the power or quality of dealing with or facing danger, fear, pain, etc.” It means that instead of running away from our problems or denying our emotions; healthy Leos face them and be genuine and direct with ourselves, embracing our vulnerability.

Having a big personality doesn't necessarily mean someone has a big ego. C.S. Lewis once said, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less.” Leos have huge hearts and are incredibly generous. The sun never goes retrograde, always shines, and gives life and energy to all living beings – it isn't selective or discriminatory. Healthy Leos are like mini suns; which is why we are also irrepressibly upbeat, optimistic, and fun-loving.

We're not pushovers. We are like roses – we have both flower petals and thorns. If you mess with someone we love you're going down. We're too loyal and protective to let major things slide; and even if we forgive, we never forget. Little things? We'll try to work them out with you.

Being naturally strong-willed and assertive is healthy – it just means we usually make horrible subordinates and yes people. There's nothing wrong with having high standards and being open about them. In fact, in relationships it's far better in the long run to open and frank about what you need and what you consider a dealbreaker from the beginning.

And oh yes are we ambitious and competitive – but most often with ourselves. We're natural leaders who always dream and think big. For a healthy Leo it's not about being the best, but doing your best. We have to be grand and intense, we're ruled by the sun. It's all or nothing for us. Settling is not something a Leo does. We need to be the best leader, the best friend, the best partner, etc. that we possibly can.

Also, in astrology each sign rules a different body part, and Leo rules the heart and upper back.

Adding to this, Leos are known as the Kings/Queens of the zodiac not because we're egotistical, but because our sun sign is the sun. It's like a double amount sun. I could go into significantly more detail about this, but it involves a lot of technical astrological details; so if anyone wants to know more just message me!

Going back to Richard, having his core self (sun) and love/beauty (venus) in Leo explains why he is an actor and artist; and why he is often warm, silly, and dramatic when he feels comfortable – his long interview with The Anglophile Channel (and it's deleted scenes) does a great job of showing the synergy between his Leo and Virgo sides.

We see Richard express the heartfelt, generous, sincere, and honorable side of Leo all the time. This is why I'm sure he has the inner-confidence and strength hidden within him to overcome the deep pain his Chiron causes him (like it does to us all). I hope he continues to find projects and people that help him on his journey to heal.

Thank you for reading this, I'm wishing him and you all the best. Take care!

#Richard #Richard Armitage #Astrology #Mine

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sif-the-tsunami · 3 years

Text

A king meets his queen

Summary: Henry has a somewhat anonymous encounter with a Persephone cosplayer at a hotel bar.

Warnings, sleezy men, and smut. unprotected sex, oral sex for everyone

rating 18+ smut below the cut

Word count: 3.3K

Texas in August was something no mere mortal should have to endure, and even though it was still sticky with humidity, the hotel bar was full of people milling around. The only way to really describe the heavy air near the Gulf Coast was to say that it was moist. Between the low buzz of conversation, the women on stage singing bluesy country songs, and the sweet and smokey bourbon took away the stresses of the day for the woman seated on a low leather sofa. She swayed to the rhythm of the acoustic guitars and the women singing cover songs. There was a fun mix of people still wearing their costumed from the convention happening about two blocks away from the hotel she was staying in.

Long pink ringlets bounced as she enjoyed the steel guitars, her friends had gone back to their hotel room after they finished their drinks. The women still in their elaborate cosplay outfits were wonderful for people watching, even though she sat in her own. A floor length black gown hugs her body, with a deliciously low neckline and two teasing slits up to the tops of her thighs. Attached to the back was a thin cape that dragged behind her with delicate pink petals in swirling patterns. One the top of her perfectly pink hair was a tiara made of dark crystals with two little blue flowers on the right side. Noticing that her glass was empty, she decided to head to the bar for a new drink.

“Hello there princess Pinkie Pie, what are you drinking?” An eager blond man came up to her, blocking her access to the bar. “Let me get you another.”

“Hi, excuse me. Thank you, I’m fine.” She tried to move away.

“Come on, a beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be buying her own drinks.” He said a little too eagerly. He kept getting closer to her, looming over her even though she was wearing heels. “You are here by yourself, you need a little company.”

“I’m waiting for someone, thank you, again. I’m fine.” She looked down for a second so she wouldn’t step on her cape.

“Don’t be like that sweet thing, I would love to keep you company while you wait for your friend.” He put his hand on her upper arm and she yanked herself back. Before she could say anything a tall, dark haired man pushed himself between her and the blond man. He hovered his hand over her exposed shoulders as he made himself look as large as possible as he got her out of the way of the potential danger.

“Darling, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” The new man said leading her to the bar. “Are you alright?”

She peeked around the broad man, and the blond seemed to roll his eyes, walking away. Still not sure if she was safe, she nodded. She said a little louder than normal, “Yes, sweetheart. Its so nice for you to join me finally.”

“I’m sorry to intrude, I’m sure that you could have handled yourself but I thought it would have been safer for everyone if I got you away from him. He had been making some comment earlier that suggested he had anything other than good intentions.” The man’s voice was deep and reverberating like a cello. They waited for their turn with the bartender. His English accent made him stand out from the Texan locals. His dress pants and shirt were also heads and tails better looking than the rest of the room. He looked like he could be James Bond.

“He’s not the first guy to hassle me at a bar, he won’t be the last. I’m more upset that he called me Pinkie Pie than anything else. And thank you, I mean it, that was kind of you.”

“Anytime, truly, and Pinkie Pie, like the Little Pony?” The man asked, with a comical head tilt. He ordered himself a whiskey, and offered to get her a drink, she ordered herself another bourbon. He was clearly amused by her order.

“Yeah, I know right, nothing about this says kid’s cartoon.” She said, gesturing with her hands to her dress.

“No, if my nephews watched a cartoon with you in it, I would be very confused. Please, forgive my ignorance. Who are you dressed as?”

“Persephone, Goddess of Spring, Queen of the Underworld.” He handed her the glass of smokey amber liquor. She raised her glass in a small toast to him.

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I’m He….” he was cut off when his companions eyes grew large.

“Oh shit, he’s coming back, do you mind walking with me?” She gently placed her hand on his forearm. He looked around and sure enough that other man seemed to be staring down the woman.

“Of course, Your Highness.” He said with an amused eyebrow lift. They moved to dark corner with a comfortable looking sofa. He sat down with his legs spread out comfortably, with a little hip wiggle once he was down.

“I’m not keeping you from anyone, am I?” Persephone asked her white knight.

“No, I am in town for the convention but by myself. You?”

“I have a bunch of girl friends with me for the con as well.” The two ended up chatting for a while, they laughed and bonded over books, video games and movies they both enjoyed. When their glasses were empty her new friend asked if she wanted another. He seemed to enjoy her company, and she was enjoying staring into his deep blue eyes. When the light hit just right, she could see a small spor of brown. She politely declined the whiskey, but asked for a tonic water with lime. During the few minutes that her well dressed friend was away, the blond man hovered closer. When he returned, handing her the water, Persephone leaned in closer to him.

“He’s coming near us again, do you mind that I’m in your bubble?”

He moved his arm around her shoulders, oh my lord he smells good, she thinks. She tentatively rested a hand on his knee. A careful glance around, the man still seemed to be hanging around the peripherals. “No, not at all. I’ve been enjoying our conversation. It’s been a while since I’ve just gotten to geek out with someone new.”

He leaned in closer to her and he put his other hand on hers. Anyone else looking at them would assume they were a cute couple on a date. “This is going to be really forward, but I’m going to ask you to kiss me, because our friend is still looking and I think that might really send the message home.”

He gulped and nodded, then kissed her as convincingly as he could. Every nerve in her body was suddenly on fire. His kissing became more passionate. His hand went from her knee and started sliding toward her thigh. He asked her, his voice husky, “Is this alright, little goddess?”

She nodded and then leaned back into him. Placing on hand on his beautiful face. She moaned into their kiss and bit his lower lip gently. They pulled apart for a moment, and the first thing out of her lips was “Do you want to get something to eat? I know of a place within walking distance if you want to try something fun.”

She was desperate to get to know him better, and she wanted to know him physically but she wouldn’t make it too easy for him. His pupils were blown out with lust, his heart was beating in his ears. He had to catch his breath just a little.

“I could eat...” He nods. They began to stand up. “Before we leave the hotel I want to go up to my room and grab my jacket, do you mind?”

“No, not at all.” He held her hand and led her out of the hotel bar. He said a quiet word to the bouncer about the blond man and they moved out to the hallway. As they wait for the elevator to chime, the two start making out. The metallic doors open and she pulls him in with her. He pressed the button for his floor. He nuzzles his face into her neck, planting sweet kisses and nibbles gently where her shoulder and neck meet.

“Mmm.” he almost purred. “Since our introduction was interrupted, if you, my darling, are Persephone, I suppose you could just call me Hades.”

“Well that depends a little, do you plan on kidnapping me?” She half joked as he kissed her neck.

“No, my little goddess, but I will treat you like a queen tonight.” He whispered into her ear then nibbled on her her ear lobe.

He knelt down and scooped the woman up from under her bum, wrapping her legs around his waist then pinning her to the wall of the elevator. He slid a hand up one of the slits of her dress, seeing at the tops of her stocking clad legs was a garter belt with her silky panties over the straps.

“I think you put these on in the wrong order, Your Highness.” He chuckled.

“What? Put me down for a second. No. If I put my panties on under the belts, I couldn’t do this.” She said taking the undergarment off and holding them in her hand. Her Hades started to laugh more. She then looked at her panties in her hand and then back at him. “Oh… I see what you did there.”

The elevator door dinged saying they were on his floor. He yoinked her panties out of her hands and danced off the lift. She playfully chased after the man to his room door. He walked in, grabbed his coat and wallet from the room.

“We can always order in?” He suggests.

“Do you really want cold cheeseburgers?”

“No, not really.”

“Trust me, they have a chef’s plate that is absolutely phenomenal. We have all night, handsome, let’s enjoy each other’s company.” She said, biting her bottom lip hopefully. Her hands ached to hold him again, her lips burned to kiss him.

The well dressed man chuckled. “I suppose you are right. Let’s go get a bite to eat.”

Persephone leaned in the corner of the elevator, her companion leaned down and kissed her again. His touch was hungry and urgent. He starts kissing her neck again and murmured “I think I want my dessert first.”

Her Hades knelt down in front of her, and started kissing the exposed parts of her thighs, gingerly lifting the center panel of her dress. Impossibly blue eyes looked up at her. “May I?”

She nodded, he began gently massaging, kissing and licking at her exposed sex. She moaned in bliss, enjoying his attention. He slid a finger into her sweet center and started coaxing pleasure out of her. “You taste so good. That’s right, my little goddess, come on my face.”

The elevator slowed down and chimed. He quickly adjusted her dress as the doors opened. She was still panting and gasping as she made eye contact with the older couple wanting to get on.

“Why yes, ma’am, I don’t think your ankle is sprained, however you need to be really careful with those shoes.” He said loudly, trying to cover up what they were doing.

“Uh, we’ll wait for the next one.” The older man said. And the doors closed. She looked down, and they started laughing. She leaned her head back and then he proceeded to worship at her alter. He moved one of her legs on top of his shoulder to give him better access. Before long her eyes were rolling back, grinding her hips against his face and tongue. He moved his tongue back and forth, occasionally swirling and lapping at her clit. He slid a second finger into her rhythmically thrusting his fingers inside of her as he sucked on her sensitive nub.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to come.” She laced her fingers through his hair as the wave of pleasure overwhelmed her. He kissed her thigh that was on his shoulder. She gasped, holding onto the handles on the walls, trembling.

“Good girl.” Pulling her panties out of his pocket, he cleaned the arousal off of his face. “I can definitely go for something a little more filling now.”

“Is it too late to choose room service?” His Persephone asks, still out of breath. He stood up, and wrapped his arm around her to brace her.

“Oh no, Miss, we are going to this restaurant you hyped up. Although, if you keep being a good girl, little goddess, this is what is waiting for you.” He took her hand from the bar on the wall she was holding, and placed it on his erection. Her eyes grew wide as she felt how thick he was. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I promise I know what I’m doing. I won’t hurt you.”

He adjusted himself as the elevator opened on the ground floor to make his discomfort less obvious. They walked across the street from the hotel to the restaurant, the dining room was lively. The hostess looked panicked over the excess of patrons.

“How many for your party?”

“Just two, ma’am.” Her Hades stated.

“We have one table available, it’s the chef’s table. Otherwise it will be a thirty minute wait.”

“Its fine with me if its alright with you,” His little goddess said to him.

Sitting at the chef table of the restaurant, the companions had to sit side by side, learning more about each other. Persephone insisted that they ordered the chef plate the came with a variety of meats, cheeses, mustard and little other tasty bites. There were deviled eggs with crispy pork belly bits and bacon wrapped sweet potato batons. The volume of the restaurant caused them to keep leaning in to hear the other person. The culinary team brought them freshly made pretzels to try with the mustard. They enjoyed a lovely meal, the food was delicious, the conversation never dulled. He would run his hands on the exposed skin of her leg closest to him. It was like they had been friends for years. When the check came, they play fought over who was going to pay. She practically begged their server in the name of feminism and equality to let her pay the bill.

“Let me pay for my mistakes.” She teased. “Besides, this was my idea.”

On the way out, with his smooth cello voice, he asked, “So, what made you want us to grab food? Aside from having a booze mop.”

The goddess of spring cosplayer lowered her head for a moment, pink curls falling forward, “I guess, I just didn’t want to be seen as being easy.”

“Oh no, darling.” he came up and rubbed his hands over arms. “You are a rare creature. I don’t think I’ve met anyone as warm as you have been. I understand if you are not up for returning with me to my room. However, I would appreciate it if you did.”

“I mean, if you still have an appetite. I know you had your dessert already.” She said with a wicked smile. He leaned in and kissed her ravenously. “Yes, I think that answers my question.”

Even though the sun had set hours ago, the air was still heavy with humidity. They made it into the hotel elevator with a new found urgency, unable to keep their hands off of each other. He kept his hand on the small of her back when they were in front of other guests but as soon as their small chamber was vacant, he groped and pawed at her. This had to have been the slowest elevator in the entire southwest. He whispered what he wanted to do to her once they reached his room as he nibbled and caressed her neck and exposed shoulders.

They made their way into his room, tugging and pulling off the other’s clothes. The coat jacket was thrown over his shoulder as they began exploring the other. His pink haired goddess unbuttoned the soft linen of his light blue shirt, looking upon the thick curly hair on his chest. She placed soft kisses on his chest as they exposed the freckles that laid in waiting under the fabric. The shirt was removed, then his belt, he kicked off his dress shoes.

“I want to rip this dress off,” He said lustfully.

“You are going to have to, I’m sewn into it..” She raised an eyebrow.

“Hmm, but I can’t have you parading home in the buff. That is no way to treat the Queen of the Underworld, is it?” He pressed his fingertips gently into her hips as he pulled her to the couch. She was pulled onto his lap, throwing the center panel of her dress over her hip, exposing her sensuous core to him. He reached in between her legs again and started rubbing his thumb against her most sensitive part.

“I want you, my little goddess, my Persephone.” With his other hand, he placed his hand on the back of her neck to pull her down to kiss her again. She moved her hand to the button on his trousers. He took his hands away from her and pull down his pants and exposed himself to her. It was the thickest erection she had ever seen. “I know, sweet girl, I promise I wont hurt you. If you say we stop, we stop immediately.”

“It is really cute that you think you’ll hurt me, I’m not as delicate as I look.” She positioned herself to ease herself down on him. Her warmth overwhelmed him, once she stopped moving he grabbed her hips.

“Baby, you feel so good. Give me a second, you are going to make me cum.” He sounded like he was in pain. Gasping, he grabbed one of her breasts through her dress. “Shit, I promise that this isn’t how it usually is. Fuck, you feel so good.”

She squeezed herself on him and his jaw went slack. After a moment’s pause, they start moving slowly in unison. He groaned and gasped as she arched her back to let him in deeper. Their bodies complimented each other in ways they didn’t know could happen. He watched as her cheeks and chest became warm with her rising climax, coaxing his own out of him. She bucked against him as she succumbed to her orgasm. Her Hades started thrusting deeper and harder, he whimpered as his orgasm threatened to irrupt.

“Baby, I’m going to cum.” He whispers breathlessly. His little goddess moved off his lap quickly and positioned herself between his legs. She greedily put his cock in her mouth and begins to suck on the head of his cock while pumping her fist on his shaft. “Oh fuck… oh fuck, I’m..”

She felt the pulsing as he came in her mouth. She swallowed every drop of him. Looking up at the quivering man, he twitched and trembled. He reached out for her to hold her and kiss her more. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, resting his head on hers. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.

“I swear to god that I last longer than that normally, but oh, little goddess, you fucking rub me the right way.” His voice trembled. “Stay the night with me. Let’s… lets do that again. Please? Besides, you can show me the best place to get breakfast.”

“I suppose, but I think we should finally introduce ourselves. Don’t you think?” She giggled.

@littlewrenofrivia what do you think?

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfic #my apologies to henry cavill #henry cavill rpf

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brywrites · 4 years

Text

Flight Risk VI

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part VI: In which things are lost and found and borrowed.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous | Next )

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The case is of a vengeful Cinderella is closed, but as they prepare to head to the airport, Kate isn’t feeling so well. Rossi offers to drive with her to a pharmacy to pick up some saltines and Dramamine, and the rest of the team heads to the airport to wait. Reid spots Y/N chatting outside the plane with Dobson, and he instinctively starts towards her. She must see him out of the corner of her eye because she turns to greet him, but before either of them can say anything a strong hand finds his shoulder, holding him back.

“Hold there, Pretty Boy. I wanna hear the details of your Prince Charming moment back there,” Morgan says.

Y/N raises her eyebrows and he can feel his face flush. “There’s um, not much to say,” he stammers.

“Spence, come on, you were totally prince-like,” JJ laughs. “Kneeling down on one knee with a glass slipper and everything?”

“A glass slipper?” Y/N asks. JJ describes, in detail, how he played the part of the knight in shining armor at the cemetery to get Claire Dunbar to leave with them. He’s embarrassed through the whole tale, but by the time JJ gets down on one knee to kiss Morgan’s hand as he did the unsub’s, he’s sure his face is scarlet. Y/N is laughing along the entire time at his fellow agents’ melodramatic reenactment.

“Anyways, it was all very romantic. He totally swept her of her feet. The poor girl fell for him in a heartbeat,” JJ says. For a moment, Reid tries to discern what Y/N is thinking. Her face is unreadable other than a bemused smile. Her body language tells him nothing. But he can’t help but wonder – hearing about his heroics in the field, would she be jealous? Hearing how he played Prince Charming for Claire and kissed her hand. Then he wonders if he wants her to be. Is he curious because there’s a part of him that wants her to want him? Is he secretly hoping that she’d feel slighted by any hint of romance towards someone else? And if he is hoping for that, what does that mean?

But Y/N just says, “I sure would have liked to see that.”

“Next time we’ll get it on camera,” Morgan teases, ruffling Reid’s hair. He swats his friend’s hand away.

“You know, I love a good fairytale,” Y/N says, turning to him.

“Well this one was more Grimm than Disney,” he admits, trying to push the memories of the men Claire killed out of his mind. The story is over now. No more dragons to slay. Kate and Rossi return seconds later and it’s time to go.

Y/N follows Captain Dobson up the steps of the jet, and he follows close behind her. Lost in his thoughts, he nearly loses his balance at the top of the stairs. Y/N immediately reaches a hand out to steady him. Her hand is soft around his. He holds tight, both to maintain his balance and to keep a connection to her. All his life he’s been uncoordinated, but he’s willing to fall over his own feet a million times if it means having the chance to finally hold her hand. With her help, he ascends to the top step, finally making it onto the jet. It strikes him, this sudden reversal of roles. Only a few hours ago he was offering his hand to a distressed damsel to lead her away, using his words to woo her. But now Y/N is the one coming to his rescue. She is steady. Confident. She doesn’t need anyone to save her. If she did, he’d be there in a heartbeat. But she’s saving him. Little by little. Maybe they’re saving each other. One thing is for sure – she sweeps him of his feet without even trying. Knocks him out with a single smile. Quite literally puts his head in the clouds. And that’s better than any fairytale.

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She’s turning the pages of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, so taken by the story that she jumps when he calls her name. She turns to see him standing there, offering an awkward half-wave. Y/N can’t help but smile at the sight of him. His cardigans and ties are becoming familiar. He always looks more like a librarian or a professor than a special agent. Not that she minds one bit. The clothes suit him well, though at this point she’s convinced he’d look good in just about anything.”

“Is it good?” he asks, nodding at the book.

“Extremely. The prose is incredible and the narration is really unique. It manages to make a story so painful sound so beautiful. You can borrow it when I’m done if you’d like. I’m sure you’d finish it in a single flight.”

“It’s quite likely,” he laughs.

“So I hear we’re off to New Mexico,” she says. The flight is long enough that she could easily lend him the book now, but she knows the trip there will be spent reviewing case files and preparing for the work to come.

“Yeah, there’s five women dead already.” Spencer sits beside her on the bench. “The unsub seems quite advanced. It’s not looking pretty.”

“We’ve got to find you at least one pretty thing to see on these cases,” she says. It doesn’t seem right for him to travel across the country and return with nothing but memories of police stations and a handful of nightmares. She still hates the idea of ferrying him and his team to and from monsters. To and from danger.

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh? Like that coffee shop you found for us last weekend?”

She laughs at his pointed accusation. When they made plans she had insisted on visiting a new pop-up that Yeeqin had shown her on Instagram. The drinks were dreamlike pieces of art with cotton candy fluff, impeccable latte art, ombre iced teas, and donuts carefully placed over the rims of mugs. The line to order had been long, and the shop was crowded with people taking photos in front of the murals and installations throughout the shop. When they finally got their drinks, they were both disappointed to find they were more watery than the sad coffee found in police stations and tiny airports. The coffee didn’t taste nearly as good as it looked, especially for the pretty penny it had cost.

“Okay, okay,” she giggles. “You have a point. I will refrain from taking food recommendations from social media influencers in the future. But I’m sure I can find a nice bookstore or a garden or something worth paying a quick visit to in Santa Fe.” She pulls out her phone for a quick search. “Oh, like this bookstore! It’s called Collected Works and it’s lovely.” Suddenly she can smell coffee and the sharp spice of aftershave. Spencer is leaning over to look at her screen. She turns her head towards him and he shifts his gaze from the phone to her and she realizes how incredibly close he is. There’s only inches between them and when his hazel eyes find hers any words she had die on her lips. Lovely, is all she can think.

After mere seconds that seem to slip into eternity, she quickly breaks eye contact and looks down at her hands, her heart thudding loudly in her ears. “Um, but, uh, maybe there’s somewhere else…” she says.

“Oh my god, Reid, you are not going to believe what I saw this morning!” A cheerful voice calls out from across the hanger and Spencer practically leaps up from the bench. The voice is familiar somehow. A brightly-dressed woman is heading towards them surprisingly fast considering the height of her stilettos. Her shockingly orange dress matches the bright hue of her lipstick and the flowers in her hair. When she reaches them, her eyes widen, and a neon grin spreads across her face as she regards Y/N. “Oh! You have to be Y/N! You look just like Morgan described!”

Y/N’s eyes flicker to Spencer who gestures towards the newcomer. “Y/N, this is Penelope Garcia. Our technical analyst.”

Garcia holds out a well-manicured hand. “Technical analyst, internet goddess, and oracle of all knowledge. But tomato, tomahto.” Y/N stands to shake her hand. “JJ was right, you’re totally cute.”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Spencer turn tomato red. She chooses not to question it and instead asks, “Why haven’t I met you before?”

“Well, usually when these crimefighters are flying all over to world to do their crimefighting thing, I stay hunkered down in my Quantico batcave ready to scour the interwebs for their every demand. But our creep of the week is particularly creepy – he’s hacking into his victims computers to stalk them and erasing almost any trace he was there. So I’m coming along for the ride to try and pull any data I can from their devices.” She grimaces. “Believe me I would much rather be staying put and calling them from my office.”

That explains why her voice is so familiar, she’s heard it in the background a million times as the team prepares for a case in the cabin.

“Well Captain Dobson and I will do our best to make the trip a little more comfortable. We restocked the galley and deep cleaned this weekend, so Geff should be in perfect form.”

“Oh my gosh I still love that our jet has a name. Geff is so cute. I’m never calling it the jet again.”

Y/N smiles. “Right? I feel like planes have a personality all their own. They deserve a name, too!”

“I feel the same way! I name all the things in my life, but none quite compares to Esther. She’s an orange 1975 Cadillac Eldorado and the one true love of my life.”

“An Eldorado? She must be gorgeous.”

“She absolutely is, and she drives like a dream. You should totally come take her for a spin sometime! If you can handle Geff you can totally handle Esther.”

“Hey!” Spencer protests. “You wouldn’t let me drive your car!”

Garcia rolls her eyes in mock annoyance. “See, calling her a car is exactly why I don’t let you drive her! Besides, you drove us to Comic-Con and your maneuverability did not exactly inspire confidence.”

“Well if you ever need a co-pilot for a convention, let me know,” Y/N offers.

“You’re into the con crowd?” Garcia asks.

“Please, I’m a total geek,” she laughs. “If it’s got a flying craft of any kind I’m in. Firefly, LOST, Doctor Who, Star Wars – you name it.”

“I totally love you,” Garcia declares, linking her arm through Y/N’s. “I love her!” she tells Spencer.

“Well I hope you have a little love left for me, Baby Girl,” Morgan teases, walking up behind them.

“Always, sugar,” Garcia throws back. She let’s go of Y/N’s arm but says, “We have to talk later.”

“Of course,” Y/N assures her, and she hurries over to catch up with Morgan.

“I didn’t realize you liked all those things,” Spencer says.

“Of course,” she laughs. “I guess it just never came up in conversation. We were too busy with books and stories. But I’m guessing you’re also a fan?”

He nods. “Although I’ve never seen LOST. Is it good?”

“Is it good?” she asks, incredulous. “It’s incredible. It revolutionized television. And it’s right up your alley. Mystery, psychology, recurrent numbers . When this case is over we are absolutely watching it together.” She only realizes after she says it that she’s practically inviting him over to her place. Or inviting herself over to his. Is that too much? They’ve been spending more and more time together, and she has yet to stop enjoying his company. If she’s being honest, she’s always looking for excuses to see him again.

“I would love to,” he says immediately. Relief washes over her. So it is okay. It’s okay that she wants more of these moments with him, that she’s trying to commit of these little conversations to memory for fear they’ll slip away and she’ll forget the butterflies she feels when he looks at her. And when Arthur calls her away to ready Geff for takeoff, the smell of coffee and aftershave lingers in her in mind long after she walks away from him.

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Three days later, the case is solved. The unsub is in custody. The victim is in the hospital with their family, where she will hopefully make a full recovery with time and with therapy. The Santa Fe sun is sweltering though. The team sits inside a small room at the little airport. The air conditioner is on full blast and everyone is sipping on water to stay cool. All of them are exhausted, and Reid wants nothing more than to take a long nap on the plane. Even Garcia is quiet. It’s a relief when Captain Dobson appears to inform them that the jet is ready for takeoff. They board Geff and settle down into chairs and couches, ready for well-deserved rest.

As soon as he does so, Reid realizes he’s left his book in the air-conditioned room. He quickly hurries back down the stairs and inside, grabbing the paperback that sits on the table where he left it. As he walks back out, he spots Y/N, standing at a locker in the hangar. She waves at him a with a smile.

“How was the case?” she asks.

“It ended as well as it could have,” he says. “But it was long. I think we’re all pretty tired.”

“I’m sure this heat isn’t helping. It’s worn me out. I’ve been putting off getting in uniform as long as I could.” She wears black pants and a short-sleeved white button-down, but the rest of her uniform is still in the locker. “So the missing woman is okay?”

Reid explains that she is, but he’s hardly aware of the words he’s saying. His focus is on her fingers as she buttons the top of her collar and ties her black tie with a careful and practiced knot. It’s looks far nicer than any of his slapdash crooked knots. She slips her blazer over her shoulders and adjusts the cuffs. He’s seen her in these clothes so many times before but he’s never realized before how good she looks in uniform. Or at least, he’s never let himself think it. It fits her well, tailored perfectly to her body. Reid is absolutely entranced as she buttons the front of her blazer, the little gold pair of wings shining above her pocket. He can’t explain why he suddenly finds this incredibly attractive, but when she puts her cap on and turns to smile at him, he completely loses track of any thoughts in his head.

It’s only when she closes the locker and says, “Let’s get out of here,” that he regains his ability to form coherent sentences.

“Wait,” he says. She does. Her cap is ever so slightly off-kilter. He reaches out to straighten it for her. As he does so, it catches a strand of her hair, and he brushes it out of the way. The gesture feels so intimate, and she stares at him the entire time. “There,” he says. “Perfect.”

“Thanks, Doctor.” The smile she gives him is different from the one she wore seconds ago. It’s softer somehow, and if he were to melt right now it wouldn’t be the result of the Santa Fe sun. They climb back into the plane. Y/N disappears into the cockpit. He puts his book back into his bag and then walks to the jet galley to grab another cup of water. Garcia joins him. As she pours herself a cup of coffee she says, “I had no idea you liked a girl in uniform.”

Reid nearly chokes on his water. “I – wait – what?”

“Oh come on, I saw you staring at Y/N. The way you were looking at her? Ooh you are in deep, loverboy.”

“It’s – it’s not like that,” he sputters. “Not at all. We’re just – she – she’s my friend. That’s it.” Garcia quirks an unconvinced eyebrow. Reid sighs. “Look, even if I liked her, it would never work out. She’s…” There aren’t enough words to follow that adequately describe her. “Her. And I’m me. And besides, I’m pretty sure there are rules. Even if I felt that way…” He couldn’t. He can’t.

Garcia’s mischievous grin fades. “Reid, do you really think that-”

“Please, Garcia.”

She bites her lip and grabs her coffee. “Hey,” she says quietly. “No one else was paying attention. They didn’t see. And I’m not going to say anything.” She takes a step past him. “I just wish–” But she doesn’t finish the sentence. Evidently deciding against voicing her wish, Garcia returns to her seat. Reid prepares to do the same, only to notice the book sitting beside the coffee maker. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. With a little note that says, you can give it back when I see you for LOST.

In spite of himself, in spite of all the things he can’t and shouldn’t do, he smiles. He can have this. Sharing words and stories with her, and wondering which ones resonated with her when she read them. He picks up the book and sits back down just as Dobson’s voice comes through the speaker to ask them to ask them to fasten their seatbelts and secure all loose items. Reid opens the book. That nap can wait until he gets home.

#flight risk #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #brywrites

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passable-talent · 3 years

Text

*to the tune of the victorious intro* here i am, once again, feeling love for one mr. christensen once again

gif is by the lovely and talented @haydenchristensengifs , to whom as well as @haydens-moles i am dedicating this to. we’re all on the lorenzo train together babes.

im ignoring the entire plot after like. the twenty minute mark. it’s cool. we’re cool.

Lorenzo Di Lamberti x Male!Reader (Virgin Territory, 2007)

because i want nothing more than to ride through the italian countryside with him on him. look at him. he’s perfect.

tw: internalized homophobia. also theres lots of discussion of virginity and chastity and sex in here, though there’s no actual fucking.

You felt horribly for the cities, so filled with their plagues and their sins. Not you. No, you had chosen the holy path, where you were going to work on the sin within yourself.

The Sacred Sisters of the Bleeding Heart. You’d made your way there only a few months ago, when you had finally figured out the reason that you had never appreciated the women who’d tried to offer their hands to you.

You had thought it was a sin, but Mother Superior said otherwise, and offered to guide you through your understanding of yourself. This is natural, she told you, just as natural as any other sin. You just need to understand the way in which to act on it.

You took her to mean that you could feel it, but never act upon it.

Turns out, as you’d find out, that wasn’t quite what she meant.

Nuns were meant to be virgins, right? That’s always what you’d thought. And yet, the gardener seemed to enjoy the fruits of their virginity quite a bit.

And no, you weren’t like that. Even if you were going to allow yourself the bending of the rules that they were enjoying, you didn’t want to do it with him. He, uh, wasn’t your type.

You mourned when he died, though, even if it wasn’t the same way that the sisters mourned. However, he was taken away, and not even a day later was there a new one.

Whenever the sisters went for walks, you accompanied them. You were close friends with most of them, and enjoyed walking beyond the confines of the walls of the convent.

And when they heard a tree branch crack, and found a man lying on the ground, you were the one who lifted him across your back and carried him back to the convent. They thanked you profusely, and then, as per the usual arrangement, stood guard at the door to make sure Mother Superior didn’t come by while they did whatever they wanted to do.

First, they kneeled at his side, and slid up his tunic at his stomach. You couldn’t help but let your eyes slide to them, and whatever they were doing.

Sister Andrea lowered her mouth to his stomach, right above the waistline of his pants, and even through the veil over your eyes, you could still pick up on the smooth muscle there.

You tore your eyes away as a smile came to your face, listening to what they were whispering about. But you’d grown distracted, and only when her footsteps were right outside the door did you realize you’d failed in your job as lookout.

You gave a quick whistle in warning to the sisters as Mother Superior crossed the threshold into the doorway.

Deaf and dumb, hmm? Good for the sisters, they certainly were going to miss their gardener. You, not exactly- he was just a man, even if a gorgeous one.

This gardener was certainly an improvement on his predecessor. Still, you weren’t going to lose the purity you’d cultivated. No man was worth it.

Then again, he looked like that...

No, he was the gardener, and he indulged in all of the sisters, didn’t he? There weren’t other men like you. You couldn’t assume that he would even appreciate your attention.

Wait, why were you wondering about that? Regardless of whether or not he’d want you, you couldn’t. You could not indulge. No.

“A bit of sin is healthy!” Sister Catarina would tell you as she walked with you through the halls. “No one will think any less of you, dear.”

“No, no,” you said, teasing your fingers through the sheer fabric of your veil. “It’s not- enjoy yourselves with him, but that’s not what I’d be interested in.”

And you’re telling the truth, honestly. You’re not interested in him. You’re not!

You were wandering the garden one day, not long later, singing to yourself. You often did so, hearing your voice echo through the fields and off of the walls. Then appeared the gardener behind you, you only heard him thanks to his footsteps.

You didn’t wear a full wrap like the sisters, just a veil over your shoulders that you sometimes pulled over your face. So he couldn’t have possibly thought you female- no, he knew. Still, he walked closer to you, and it seemed as though he was trying to ask you something.

He put his fingers in front of his mouth, and opened them as he pulled them forward.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, “I wasn’t speaking.”

He cocked his head, then, as if asking what you were doing instead, if not speaking.

How were you to explain singing to someone who could not hear?

Singing- it’s not just from the voice, though, is it? It’s deeper than that. Hoping to explain, you brought your hand over your heart, then trailed your fingers up your throat as well. Maybe he’d understand your meaning- that singing came from the heart, instead.

He didn’t quite look like he understood.

Slowly, you reached out, taking his hand into yours. Though there were rough patches at the base of each of his fingers, his palms were soft. You lifted it to your throat, knowing that the vibrations of your voice would feel different when you talked than when you sang.

You swallowed, and felt your adam’s apple move against his hand. He took a hard breath before his eyes met yours.

“This is what it feels like when I speak,” you said, both moving your fingers away from your mouth in the way that indicated speech, as well as holding his hand against you.

“And-” you pressed your hand to your heart, then drawing your fingers upward, past his knuckles, in the same motion you’d used to describe signing before.

You started humming, at first, always finding it difficult to sing in front of others. After a moment of that, you started singing, a simple melody, the same you’d been singing before. You watched him, watched his eyes drift from his hand on your throat, to your lips, before catching your eyes as well.

He nodded, after a moment, and you figured that he’d understood. You took your hand from his, and slowly he pulled away. You found yourself nearly missing the warmth of his hand around your neck, but pulled your mind from your thoughts before it went somewhere you wouldn’t be able to get it back from.

Now more than ever, you had to be careful. It was one thing to think he was beautiful while admiring from afar, but now, now you had shared a moment with him. You’d sung to him, even if he hadn’t heard you. He’d put his hand on your neck, with long fingers and soft skin and fond eyes.

So now you had more to push to the back of your brain. You thought you were doing fine- until he was tossed out, for lying. Turns out, he wasn’t deaf and dumb at all.

He sat outside the doors of the convent, leaning in the shade, hoping to maybe catch a ride. You appeared on the top of the wall, sitting down with your legs thrown over it.

“So,” you said, making him look up at you. “You heard me, the whole time.”

“Yeah,” he said, a small smile on his face.

“You heard me sing.”

“Mhm.” He shifted his shoulders against the wall, tilting his head. You kept his gaze for a moment, then looked out across the path, and the forest.

“So what now? Where do you plan to go?”

“Oh, I’ll find somewhere else. I’ll make my way.” He looked out, just the way you did, at the rustling green leaves. “And you? You’ll stay here?” Without an answer, you tipped your weight forward, dropping to the ground outside the walls, your white veil fluttering off of your shoulders and down to the dirt.

“Nah,” you said with a bit of a smile, “I think I prefer it out here. White isn’t my color.” He laughed a bit, turning his feet to the side and making room for you on the step he was seated on. You took him up on the offer.

“I’m Lorenzo,” he said, finally giving you his name as he extended his hand to you. You took it, once again feeling the softness of his palm.

“(Y/N),” you answered.

“Well, (Y/N),” Lorenzo said, “You have a lovely voice.” You shook your head, turning your gaze away.

“I don’t sing in front of people, you know,” you said, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Which is, I guess,” Lorenzo said, pressing his feet flat to the wall beneath him, “why you sang in front of who you thought was deaf.”

“How was I meant to know you were lying?” You accused, shoving his shoulder with more intention this time.

“Oh, please!” He said, laughter working into his face, and lord, he was beautiful. “I’m dropped into a villa of beautiful women, and all I need to do is keep my mouth shut? Could you blame me?”

“I guess not,” you said, shrugging quickly. “It’s not exactly to my taste.”

“No?” Lorenzo asked, looking sideways at you. He gave you a quick glance, and though you looked up at the blue sky, you could nearly feel his gaze as it slid down over your collarbones. “What is to your taste, then?”

You shrugged, taking a deep breath. Were you about to admit it to him?

“Golden hair, strong shoulders, long legs.” You tried to force back a smile, looking down at your hands for a brief moment. “A man.” Before you could let yourself feel too vulnerable, you added- “Not a gardener, though.”

There was a quick moment of silence between the two of you, and you wondered if you’d said something that surprised him. Would he be angry with you?

“I lean that way, sometimes,” he said with a laugh, resting his head back against the wall. “I can’t blame you.”

You turned your head to him, and lord, you had always known he was beautiful. You’d always known. But now he was in front of you, and you weren’t so strongly fighting yourself anymore, and you knew that he was like you, at least a bit.

So you bridged the gap, and kissed him.

And you’d thought his hands were soft. His lips? His lips were perfect. His hands came up to your face, and one of them slipped around to your neck, keeping you close. You took your hands first to his ribcage, but as the kiss continued, they slid up to his back.

When you broke away, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on him. Damn, he had beautiful hair. No wonder the sisters called him an angel.

“So what now?” You asked again, still close, still his hands on you. “Where do you plan to go?” A smile quirked on Lorenzo’s face, and he lifted his hand to take his fingers through your hair, pushing it from your face.

“I’ll make my way,” He said again, smiling. His smile turned wicked, briefly, as he added, “I don’t think I’m going to want to be a gardener, though.” You narrowed your eyes, wondering if- he couldn’t possibly be referencing what you said earlier. That you wouldn’t want a gardener. “And you?”

He hadn’t taken his hands from you. He hadn’t even moved his eyes from yours since he’d opened them. You’d let your eyes stray to him plenty of times while he was within the convent, and maybe you were projecting, but you didn’t think he looked at any of the sisters like that.

“We’ll see.”

-🦌 Roe

#virgin territory #virgin territory 2007 #hayden christensen #lorenzo #lorenzo di lamberti #hayden christensen x reader #x male!reader #lorenzo x reader #lorenzo di lamberti x reader #fics

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thatsamericano · 3 years

Text

I Just Want You To Know Who I Am

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Brief appearances from Spain, Belgium, and Veneziano. Background mention of Gerita.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of transphobia, misgendering, and gender dysphoria. Some internalized acephobia. The fic is overall very fluffy in tone, and none of the characters are shown dealing with someone who doesn’t accept their sexuality or gender identity.

Summary: Romano didn’t always have the words to tell people who he was, but now that he does, he wants America to know he’s transgender. He’s scared, but he isn’t going to let that stop him anymore.

Word Count: 3065

Savino was glad he had words to succinctly describe who he was now. A long time ago, there hadn’t been words to describe the innate sense of wrongness he felt in his own body, his aversion to the name his grandfather had given him that went beyond his personal issues with the man, or the inexplicable way he’d felt like crying every time someone complimented him by telling him what a pretty little girl he was.

Centuries ago, when he was small, confused, and terrified, he tried to explain it for the first time. Spain was his guardian, and the only person he could turn to. Savino had told Antonio that he didn’t want to wear dresses like Belgium did. He wanted to wear trousers like Spain and have his hair cut like Spain’s too.

“But why?” Spain had asked, brow creased in confusion. “You look so preciosa in the clothes you have now.”

Romano had looked away, ashamed. “I… I don’t want to be preciosa, Spain. I want to be precioso.”

Spain blinked, stunned by what Romano had said. He’d probably never heard of such a thing, but to his credit, he had reacted as well as could be expected. He smiled at Romano and ruffled his hair. “I’ll make you some trousers and a shirt then, mijo.”

“Grazie, Tonio.” There was something that felt so right about Spain calling him mijo, acknowledging him as a son instead of a daughter. He puffed up his chest with a pride he’d never felt before.

“Of course. Should I call you another name too?”

“Just call me Romano for now.” He wasn’t sure of the human name he wanted yet.

Spain had helped so much after Romano told him the truth as he understood it back then. He cut Romano’s hair, dressed him as a boy, and agreed to use the human name Romano eventually decided upon. Spanish and Italian were both gendered languages, and Spain was very good about referring to him with the right endearments and adjectives. He complimented his little henchman just as much as he had before, but he never called him preciosa again.

When Belgium saw him in trousers for the first time, she had naturally been confused. Antonio had rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly explained how he had been mistaken. Romano had always been a boy, but he hadn’t known. And since he was a boy, he ought to wear boy clothes and have his hair cut like one.

Belgium had bent down closer to his height and told Savino what a handsome boy he was. And that had made him feel so wonderful, to have someone else see him as a boy, especially a beautiful woman like Belgium. Romano had been able to explain everything to her later once he was an adult and had better language to describe who he was. Belgium nodded along with a soft little smile and said she hadn’t known that at the time, but figured it might have been something like that later, when she had been able to reflect on what happened with a better, more modern understanding of transgender people. She agreed to keep it secret for Savino, since it wasn’t something he wanted spread around.

He’d told Veneziano too. By then, he was presenting as a boy and most people believed he was one because they didn’t know he’d ever been considered a girl. Veneziano knew about his past, but it didn’t seem to make a difference to him. “Famiglia is famiglia,” he’d said. “And a fratello’s just as good as a sorella.” After asking for his new human name, Feliciano had hugged him and told him he didn’t need to know anything else unless Savino wanted to share it with him. From that day on, Feli had been just like Tonio. He never spoke to him as if he wasn’t a man, even if the idea of someone like Savino being a man wasn’t well understood at the time.

There were others he’d told over the years, mostly his prospective lovers. Savino couldn’t risk someone being disgusted by the sight of his naked body, so he’d always told them in advance, long before he got involved with them physically. But each time he was taking a huge risk, not just of rejection but of violence. Humans were not kind to men like him, and nations wouldn’t necessarily be either. There were many people he wanted but never pursued for that very reason, and America was one of them.

Alfred seemed kind, and he was a loud and vocal supporter of LGBT rights. He saw himself as a hero, and he truly wanted to make the world a better place for everyone. Once, Alfred had put his arm around Savino’s shoulders and promised that Romano could count on him if he was ever in a fix. Romano had pretended to be annoyed, mostly because he liked America’s arm around his shoulders a little too much. He liked Alfred a little too much, and he had for decades, ever since he had lived in his house so long ago and grown to feel like Alfred’s place was a home as much as he anywhere that wasn’t South Italy could be. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit he loved him, not now, not when he hadn’t revealed something so important about who he was. It was one thing to be rejected by someone you had a silly crush on that didn’t mean anything, but it was another thing to be rejected by someone you loved. Savino didn’t know if he could survive the latter.

Romano was in such a better place than he’d been when he told Spain that first time, so long ago. He knew who he was and he had words for it that would make sense to other people who had never felt as he did. He’d been living as a man for centuries, and no one had questioned that in a long time. The twentieth century had brought with it medicines and surgeries for men like him, wonderful inventions that could bring his body more in line with his internal sense of himself. Romano still had occasional bouts of dysphoria, but now he could look at his naked body in the mirror without shame. He was mostly fine with who he was these days, and with the long journey he’d taken to get there. But would America be?

There was only one way to find out. Romano frowned down at his phone as he pressed the button to call America. It rang once, twice before America picked up.

“Hey, Little Italy! I’m so glad you called! I’ve been totally bored, and I’ve had no one to talk to all day!”

Romano smirked and decided to tease America a little. He enjoyed teasing him, seeing the way his face would get all red as he shyly glanced away. If only he’d ever been able to kiss Alfred when he was acting like that. “So you were lonely without me, Fredo?”

“I… uh, I didn’t say that. No, ‘cause like I tried to call Mattie, but he was hanging out with the Netherlands and Cuba and was too busy to do anything with his own brother.” Savino just knew that Alfred was pouting and making sad puppy eyes at being “abandoned” by Canada for his friends.

Savino snorted. “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Feli’s on a date with his macho potato right now.”

Alfred giggled. “Macho potato. I always thought it was so funny when you call him that. But I’ve never really understood why.”

Because I’m jealous, Savino thought. I’m jealous of his height and his muscles, and how he got them so easily. I’m jealous of how he was born to look so macho with hardly any effort, and I’ve had to work so hard just to get where I am right now.

Savino cleared his throat and tried to shove the dysphoric thoughts away. “I don’t fucking know. He likes potatoes, and he likes to pretend he’s Mr. Macho Man. Do I need another reason?”

“Nah, that makes sense, I guess. But you can be pretty macho too. I still remember that one time on Halloween you dressed up as the Grandma from Little Red Riding Hood.” America paused, and Romano could hear him letting out a long sigh over the phone line. “You were wearing a dress, but like in a manly way? I don’t know how to explain it, but it was macho of you. Very macho.”

Dio, Alfred sounded turned on just from the memory of it. Savino remembered that costume. Spain and Belgium had both been surprised when he volunteered to dress up as the Grandma in keeping with their Little Red Riding Hood theme, and Spain had even pulled him aside to make sure he was comfortable wearing a dress, given how much it had bothered him as a child. But Romano had explained it was different this time. He was dressing up as a character, not him, and it was just that one night. Romano had worn sunglasses and toted in a gun to feel more tough and manly, and no one mistook his for a little old woman. That costume now hung in the back of his closet, behind the suit separates and shirts that were his normal, daily attire. Savino had considered finding selling the costume on eBay or donating it to an organization that took women’s clothing since he’d probably never wear it again.

But if he could make Alfred sound like that again, maybe Savino would hold onto the dress.

“Vinny? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just drifted off for a minute there.” His hand moved through the air like he was sweeping cobwebs out of his mind.

“It’s cool. Oh! Speaking of costumes, Japan was talking about this awesome anime convention in Tokyo next month. Hopefully my boss will give me enough time off for me to go, because it sounds amazing.”

Romano smiled at America’s enthusiasm. “I hope so too.”

Alfred launched into an excited discussion of all the characters he might cosplay as at the convention if he got to go. Romano didn’t know many of them, and America was speaking so fast he couldn’t hear the names of all of them, but he listened attentively regardless.

This was nice, Romano reflected. His friendship with America was warm, safe, and comfortable. He could listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. If he didn’t say anything, never brought up the real reason he had called Alfred, it could stay this way forever.

But the thing was that he would gladly listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. That Alfred made him feel warm, safe, and comfortable just by being himself. He was so close to letting himself fall in love with the idiota, and there was only one thing stopping him.

Savino broke into the middle of Alfred’s sentence. “Alfredo, I need to tell you something.”

“Is it something bad? You sound really scared. Is someone hurting you? Whose ass do I have to kick?”

“No… no one is. I’m fine. This is just really hard for me to say.” It had been so difficult each time. With Spain, Veneziano, and Belgium, he didn’t have words for it, and he had to explain himself in painful, drawn out sentences that didn’t always reflect the truth he knew in his heart (like telling Belgium he had been born a girl, when he’d never really felt like one). He was afraid of being rejected by people who mattered to him, and he was afraid they might not even comprehend what he was trying to tell them. Now, Savino had words, but that didn’t make him any less scared of losing someone who mattered to him.

“What is it?” Alfred asked gently.

He took a deep breath, in and out, then bit the bullet. “I’m transgender.”

Savino tried not to panic in the stunned silence than followed. Luckily that silence only lasted a few seconds. “Oh, wow, that’s… that’s awesome!”

Romano laughed in relief. “It is?”

“Of course it is, dude! I am so proud of you, and I am so glad you felt comfortable enough to share that with me!”

Savino closed his eyes, feeling that last barrier to falling in love with Alfred giving way. “You made it easy for me to feel comfortable, caro.”

“Umm, can I ask you a question?” Alfred’s voice sounded hesitant and strained. “I promise it won’t be too weird.”

“Sure, I guess.” Savino frowned and brushed some imaginary dust off his knee. People could ask invasive questions when someone revealed they were trans, but that didn’t sound like what Alfred was planning to do.

“What kind of transgender person are you? Because I just called you dude, but only because I called you dude so many times before and didn’t know it was wrong. I’d never intentionally misgender someone right after they came out to me. That would be epically shitty of me.” Alfred seemed worried and apologetic.

“It’s okay. I’m a trans guy, so you can call me dude if you want to.”

“Thank God! For a second, I thought I’d fucked up really badly. He/him pronouns still okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your name, Savino? And the nicknames I give you, Vinny and Little Italy?”

Savino grinned. “Yes. And I don’t even know why you’re worried about Little Italy. That has nothing to do with my gender.”

Alfred chuckled. “I figured I should make sure, just in case.”

“I’m glad I decided to tell you today,” Romano said. “I wanted to tell you before, but I was scared. You didn’t seem like you’d have a bad reaction, but it’s a hard thing to talk about, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Alfred paused, and it felt like he was preparing to say something important. Savino waited until he was ready. “I’m uhh… queer, I guess? I’m not really sure what to call myself.”

Savino smiled sadly at the insecurity he could hear in Alfred’s voice. “That’s okay. For a long time, I didn’t know what to call myself either.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t have.” America sighed, and he sounded distressed. “It’s… fuck, I don’t even know how to explain this. For most of my life, I thought I was asexual. Well, actually, I thought I was broken and that there was something wrong with me, but I’m trying not to feel that way anymore.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.” Damn it, he wished America wasn’t on another continent so he could hug him. He could probably use a hug right now.

“But then there was this guy. This one amazing, wonderful, really special guy.” Alfred laughed softly, thinking about whatever lucky bastard he was obviously in love with, and Savino wondered who it might be. Lithuania? Japan? Prussia? South Korea? America was close to a lot of people.

Or maybe it was him. Maybe he was the lucky bastard.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever, umm, wanted that way,” America continued. “I don’t think it’s because he’s a guy, because I’m not into guys generally, and I’m not into girls either. But I do like the specific ways he is a guy, so maybe I’m gay? I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, Fredo. You don’t have to label yourself if you don’t want to.” No wonder America was so confused. He had only liked one person his entire life. That wasn’t much information to determine your sexuality on.

“I really appreciate you saying that, but I wish I could label myself. All my other friends seem to know what genders they’re into, and it feels kind of weird that I don’t.”

“Well, you seem to be fixated on this one particular person. Do you think anything would be different if the guy you told me about had been a girl instead?” Romano wanted to help America figure this out, since his uncertainty seemed to be bothering him. This was the only way Romano could think of.

America thought it over. “I guess I still don’t know,” he answered quietly. His volume was more typical of Canada than what Romano was used to from America. “When you told me you were transgender and I wasn’t sure how you were transgender, I was more worried about hurting you than if I’d still think you were hot as a girl.”

Savino teared up. He was the lucky bastard after all. “Alfredo, you…”

“Crap, I didn’t make things weird, did I?! We can totally go back and pretend I didn’t say anything. You know me, open mouth, insert foot.” Alfred laughed shakily.

“I don’t want to go back and pretend you didn’t say anything. You know what I really want, idiota? I want to kiss the hell out of you, like I’ve wanted to kiss you for years. But I’d have to get on a goddamn plane and be trapped in a tin can of death with hundreds of other passengers for several hours to make that happen.” Romano hated flying, but he was willing to consider it.

“Or I could fly to see you. I’ve got a private jet, so I wouldn’t have to waste time going through airport security.”

Romano grinned. “That works too.”

“Can I call you back in a little bit? I need to call my boss to make sure he can spare me for a few days while I fly out to see you.”

“Sure, tesoro. Talk to you soon.”

Alfred hung up the phone, and Savino set his phone down on the table in front of him. Coming out to America had gone much better than he could’ve expected. Romano was glad he didn’t have that burden on his shoulders anymore, and he was hoping America would call back in a few minutes to let him know his boss’s decision. If he couldn’t be spared for a few days and Romano’s boss wouldn’t let him go either, they would have to find some way around that. As far as Romano was concerned, he’d been waiting more than long enough as it was, and he wasn’t going to wait any longer than he had to.

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fyeah-bangtan7 · 4 years

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The Boundless Optimism of BTS

IT IS THE MORNING OF CHUSEOK, A KOREAN HARVEST FESTIVAL akin to Thanksgiving, and the members of BTS would normally be spending it with their families, eating tteokguk, a traditional rice-cake soup. Instead, Jin, 28; Suga, 27; J-Hope, 26; RM, 26; Jimin, 25; V, 24; and Jung Kook, 23, are working. Practicing. Honing their choreography. In a few days, the biggest musical act in the world will perform in the live-stream concert that, for now, will have to stand in for the massive tour they spent the first part of this year rehearsing. At this moment, they’re seated inside Big Hit Entertainment headquarters in Seoul, South Korea, the house they built, dressed mostly in black and white, ready to answer my questions. They’re gracious about it. And groggy.

Before I’m done speaking with them for this story, BTS will have the number-one and number-two songs on the BillboardHot 100, a feat that’s been achieved only a handful of times in the sixty-odd years the chart has existed. Their next album, Be, is weeks away from being released, and speculation about the record, the tracklist, the statement, is rampant across the Internet. BTS are, to put it mildly, huge.

There is something about complete world domination that can really cement a friendship. What jumps out at me as I connect with the members of BTS is their level of comfort with one another. Tension has a way of making itself evident—even over Zoom, even through a translator. There’s none to be found here. They are relaxed in the manner of family. Lounging with their arms around each other’s shoulders, tugging on each other’s sleeves, fixing each other’s collars. When they speak about one another, it is with kindness.

“Jimin has a particular passion for the stage and really thinks about performance, and in that sense, there are many things to learn from him,” J-Hope says. “Despite all the things he has accomplished, he still tries his best and brings something new to the table, and I really want to applaud him for that.”

“Thank you for saying all these things about me,” Jimin responds.

Jimin turns his attention to V, explaining that he is “loved by so many” and describing him as one of his best friends. Suga jumps in, sharing that Jimin and V fight the most among the group. V replies, “We haven’t fought in three years!” They tell me this distinction now belongs to Jin and Jung Kook, the oldest and youngest members. “It all starts as a joke, but then it gets serious,” Jimin says.

Jin agrees and recounts what their arguments sound like. “Why did you hit me so hard?” he says, before mimicking Jung Kook’s response: “I didn’t hit you that hard.” And then they start hitting each other. But not that hard.

Since the start of their careers, BTS have shown a certain confidence in their aesthetic, their performances, and their music videos. It’s right there in the name: BTS stands for “Bangtan Sonyeondan,” which translates to “Bulletproof Boy Scouts,” but as their popularity grew in English-speaking markets, the acronym was retrofitted to mean “Beyond the Scene,” which Big Hit has described as “symbolizing youth who don’t settle for their current reality and instead open the door and go forward to achieve growth.” And their affection with one another, their vulnerability and emotional openness in their lives and in their lyrics, strikes me as more grown-up and masculine than all the frantic and perpetual box-checking and tone-policing that American boys force themselves and their peers to do. It looks like the future.

“There is this culture where masculinity is defined by certain emotions, characteristics. I’m not fond of these expressions,” Suga tells me. “What does being masculine mean? People’s conditions vary day by day. Sometimes you’re in a good condition; sometimes you aren’t. Based on that, you get an idea of your physical health. And that same thing applies mentally. Some days you’re in a good state; sometimes you’re not. Many pretend to be okay, saying that they’re not ‘weak,’ as if that would make you a weak person. I don’t think that’s right. People won’t say you’re a weak person if your physical condition is not that good. It should be the same for the mental condition as well. Society should be more understanding.”

When I hear these words in October 2020, from my house in a country whose leader is actively trying to make the case that only the weak die of COVID-19, well, it sounds like the future, too.

IF YOU ARE JUST NOW CONSIDERING GETTING INTO BTS, IT IS natural to feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff. It’s a bit like saying, right this second, “Let’s see what Marvel Comics is all about.” In the streaming age, BTS have sold more than twenty million physical units across fourteen albums. Their multi-album concept cycles, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, Love Yourself, and Map of the Soul, have unfolded over multiple records and EPs. There are collaborations with brands, including a BTS smartphone with Samsung. There is a series of short films and music videos, called BU, or BTS Universe, and an animated universe called BT21, in which they’re all represented by gender-neutral avatars. Their fan base, known as ARMY, is a global cultural movement unto itself.

“Dynamite,” their first English-language single and their first American number one, is pure, ecstatic pop. Shiny and joyful. What sets them apart from many of their peers, and many of the pop acts who achieved worldwide fame before them, is what came earlier. Beneath the sheen and the beats has always been an unflinching examination of human emotion. Their lyrics seek to challenge the conventions of society—to question and even denounce them. BTS’s first single, “No More Dream,” unveiled at their debut showcase in June 2013, concerns the intense pressure South Korean schoolchildren face to conform and to succeed. According to Suga, lyrics about the mental health of young people were mostly absent in Korean pop music. “The reason I started making music is because I grew up listening for lyrics that speak about dreams, hopes, and social issues,” he tells me. “It just came naturally to me when making music.”

Suga’s early ambition of making music didn’t involve him being in a group at all. About a decade ago, in his hometown of Daegu, the fourth-largest city in South Korea, he started recording underground rap tracks under the name Gloss, listening to and learning from the early works of songwriter and producer Bang Si-hyuk, known as Hitman Bang. Bang is the founder and CEO of Big Hit Entertainment. In 2010, Suga, a junior in high school, moved to Seoul to join Big Hit as a producer and rapper. Then Bang asked him to become part of a group, envisioning a hip-hop act with fellow new Big Hit recruits RM and J-Hope. The guys call this “season one” of their development.

“At that time, I don’t think our label exactly knew what to do with us,” RM says. “They just basically let us be and we had some lessons, but we also just chilled and made music sometimes.”

It got more intense. The family grew, occasionally by accident.

V accompanied a friend to a Big Hit casting call in Daegu for moral support and ended up being the person chosen from those sessions.

Jung Kook was signed in a feeding frenzy after being dropped from the talent show Superstar K, fielding offers from numerous entertainment companies before settling on Big Hit because he was impressed by RM’s rapping.

Jimin was a dance student and class president for nine years running at his school in Busan; he auditioned at the behest of his teacher.

And then, to hear him tell it, Jin got picked up off the street. “I was just going to school,” he says. “Someone from the company approached me, like, ‘Oh, this is my first time seeing anyone that looked like this.’ He suggested having a meeting with me.”

“Season two is when we officially underwent hard training,” J-Hope says. “We started dancing, and that’s how I would say our team building started.”

School in the daytime, training at night. “We slept during classes,” V says.

“I slept in the practice studio,” J-Hope counters.

Hitman Bang kept the pressure comparatively low. And he encouraged the guys to write and produce their own music, to be honest about their emotions in their lyrics. Suga is on record saying that no BTS album would be complete without a track that scrutinizes society.

And yet for their new album, Be, they’re putting that aside. Even this has a greater purpose that relates to mental wellness: RM, the group’s main rapper, says, “I don’t think this album will have any songs that criticize social issues. Everybody is going through very trying times right now. So I don’t think there will be any songs that will be that aggressive.”

Though the new rules of COVID-19 mean they can’t come here and promote Be, its first single might not have happened in the first place but for the pandemic. “ ‘Dynamite’ wouldn’t be here if there was no COVID-19,” says RM. “For this song, we wanted to go easy and simple and positive. Not some, like, deep vibes or shadows. We just wanted to go easy.”

Jin agrees. “We were trying to convey the message of healing and comfort to our fans.” He pauses. “World domination wasn’t actually our plan when we were releasing ‘Dynamite.’ ” World domination just happens sometimes. You get it.

MAP OF THE SOUL ONE AIRED VIA THEIR ONLINE FAN PLATFORM and attracted almost a million viewers across 191 countries. The guys say they tried not to think about the enormousness. J-Hope adds, “I felt a little bit more nervous knowing that this was being broadcast live. I actually feel less nervous performing live at a stadium.” Jin replies with a smile, “J-Hope, born to perform at a stadium.”

The graphic layout of the title throws a colon between the final N and E, which makes it look like Map of the Soul On: E, and as I watch it live, as I do in my office at 3:00 a.m. with noise-canceling headphones and a steaming pot of coffee, it feels a lot like I’m watching Map of the Soul on E. It is an explosion of color and fashion and passion, over four gigantic stages, from the boozy swagger of “Dionysus” to the emo-trap introspection of “Black Swan.” Not a step, not a gesture, not a hair is out of place. If there were nerves, they didn’t come through.

There is also, at the end of Map of the Soul One, an intimate version of their 2017 track “Spring Day,” which encapsulates what’s really made BTS stand out. On the surface, it’s about nonspecific love and loss, about yearning for the past. “I think that song really represents me,” says Jin. “I like to look to the past and be lost in it.”

Fair enough, but there is an undeniable allusion, in both the song’s video and its cover concept, to a specific incident in recent South Korean history. “Spring Day” was released just a few years after the sinking of the Sewol ferry, one of the country’s biggest maritime disasters, in which a poorly inspected, overloaded ferry toppled in a sharp right turn. Hundreds of high school students drowned, having obeyed orders to stay in their cabins as the boat was going down. According to some reports, the South Korean government actively tried to silence entertainers who spoke out against it, with the Korean Ministry of Education fully banning the tragedy’s commemorative yellow ribbons in schools. I ask whether it was about a specific sad event, and Jin tells me, “It is about a sad event, as you said, but it is also about longing.” The song kept the disaster front of mind for young Koreans and for the media, indirectly leading to the impeachment and removal of then president Park Geun-hye.

If an overburdened, undermaintained, slow-moving vessel capsizing because of a reckless rightward turn strikes you as somehow symbolic of the country in which BTS are about to explode even further, you won’t hear it from them. “We’re outsiders—we can’t really express what we feel about the United States,” says V. But their actions speak volumes; in the wake of the George Floyd murder and subsequent protests in America, the group made a $1 million donation with Big Hit Entertainment to Black Lives Matter, one that was matched by BTS ARMY.

The fans offer a fascinating inversion of stan culture: Rather than bullying rivals like many other ardent online fan bases do, ARMY have put the positive message of the music into action. Their activism goes deep. Through micro-donations, they’ve regrown rain forests, adopted whales, funded hundreds of hours of dance classes for Rwandan youth, and raised money to feed LGBTQ refugees around the world. Where pop fans a generation ago might have sent teddy bears or cards to their idols for their birthdays, where five years ago they might have promoted a hashtag to get a video’s YouTube viewer count up, for RM’s twenty-sixth birthday in September, international fan collective One in an Army raised more than $20,000 for digital night schools to improve rural children’s access to education during the COVID-19 crisis. ARMY may have even entered the conversation around the 2020 presidential election when hundreds of thousands of Tulsa Trump rally tickets got snapped up online in June. The event’s actual attendance was pathetically low. No particular person or entity claimed credit for this top-notch trolling, but a video urging BTS fans to RSVP to that rally did get hundreds of thousands of views. We have no choice but to stan this fan base.

The relationship is intense. “We and our ARMY are always charging each other’s batteries,” RM says. “When we feel exhausted, when we hear the news all over the world, the tutoring programs, and donations, and every good thing, we feel responsible for all of this.” The music may have inspired the good works, but the good works inspire the music. “We’ve got to be greater; we’ve got to be better,” RM continues. “All those behaviors always influence us to be better people, before all this music and artist stuff.”

Yet for every devoted member of BTS ARMY, there is someone who’s looked right past BTS. Jimmy Fallon, whose Tonight Show hosted the group for a full week this past fall, was one of those people. “Usually if an artist is on the rise, I hear about them ahead of time. With BTS, I knew they had crazy momentum, and I’d never heard of them.”

Here’s a thought that used to be funny to me: There were members of the live audience of The Ed Sullivan Showon February 9, 1964, who weren’t there to see the Beatles. Elvis was in the Army, Buddy Holly was gone, and the three number-one albums in the months before Meet the Beatles! were an Allan Sherman comedy record, the West Side Story original cast recording, and Soeur Sourire: The Singing Nun. America had left rock ’n’ roll behind for the moment, and with the culture aimless and fragmented, it wasn’t quite sure what to pick up in its place. It is possible to imagine that a youngish, reasonably hip, and culturally aware human being might cop a ticket to that week’s show, settle into his seat, and say, “Bring on a medley of numbers from the Broadway musical Oliver! and banjo sensation Tessie O’Shea.”

The instinct is to laugh at that guy, and it’s a good instinct, because what a dope.

And then you become that guy.

Sometimes there is a whole universe alongside your own, bursting with color you’re too stubborn to see, bouncing with joy you think is for someone else, with a beat you thought you were finished dancing to. BTS are the biggest thing on the planet right now, yet the job of introducing them to someone new, particularly in America, seems like it’s never done. Maybe it’s because they are adored by screaming teenagers and we live in a society patriarchal enough to forget that screaming teenagers are nearly always right. Maybe it’s the cultural divide, in a moment when our country is unashamed enough of its own xenophobia to get openly bent out of shape when it has to press 1 for English. Maybe it’s the language barrier, as though we understood a single word Michael Stipe sang before 1989.

Whatever the reason, the result is that you might be missing out on a paradigm shift and a historic moment of pop greatness.

IF BTS SEEM A BIT CAUTIOUS WITH THEIR WORDS PUBLICLY, IT’S because—perhaps more than any other massive pop act in history—they have to be. Shortly after our second meeting, BTS were given the General James A. Van Fleet Award by the U. S.–based Korea Society for their outstanding contributions to advancing relations between the United States and Korea. In his acceptance speech, RM said, “We will always remember the history of pain that our two nations shared together, and the sacrifices of countless men and women,” as seemingly diplomatic and innocuous a statement as he could have made. But because he didn’t mention the Chinese soldiers who died in the Korean War, it didn’t go over well. The Samsung BTS smartphone disappeared from Chinese e-commerce platforms, Fila and Hyundai pulled ads in China that featured the group, the nationalistic newspaper Global Times accused them of hurting Chinese citizens’ feelings and negating history, and the hashtags “BTS humiliated China” and “there are no idols that come before my country” began trending on the social-media site Weibo. The pressure is not small.

Even as the number-one pop group in the world, even with their hard work day in and day out, even with tens of millions of adoring fans redefining the concept of “adoring fans” by literally healing the planet in their name, these guys still suffer from impostor syndrome. RM explains, “I’ve heard that there’s this mask complex. Seventy percent of so-called successful people have this, mentally. It’s basically this: There’s this mask on my face. And these people are afraid that someone is going to take off this mask. We have those fears as well. But I said 70 percent, so I think it’s very natural. Sometimes it’s a condition to be successful. Humans are imperfect, and we have these flaws and defects. And one way to deal with all this pressure and weight is to admit the shadows.”

The music helps. “When we write the songs and lyrics, we study these emotions, we are aware of that situation, and we relate to that emotionally,” J-Hope says. “And that’s why when the song is released, we listen to it and get consolation from those songs as well. I think our fans also feel those emotions, maybe even more than us. And I think we are a positive influence on each other.”

If there’s one thing they’re sacrificing, besides free time and the ability to speak freely without the Chinese foreign ministry releasing an official statement, it’s a love life. I ask about dating, broad questions like “Are you?” and “Is there time?” and “Can you?” and the answer to all of them is pretty clear: “No.” “The most important thing for us now is to sleep,” Jung Kook insists. Suga follows right up with “Can you see my dark circles?” I cannot, because there are none, because flawless skin translates even over Zoom when there’s an ocean between us.

So they’re not, at least publicly, having romantic relationships with anyone. If there is a strong relationship that’s guided their journey into adulthood, it’s with Big Hit. “Our company started with twenty to thirty people, but now we have a company with so many employees,” RM says. “We have our fans, and we have our music. So we have a lot of things that we have to be responsible for, to safeguard.” He considers it for a moment. “I think that’s what an adult is.”

“Our love life—twenty-four hours, seven days a week—is with all the ARMYs all over the world,” RM adds.

In a world that is determined to sand down anything that isn’t immediately recognizable to the average pop-music fan, when it comes to acquainting you with Korean culture, BTS very much do not wanna hold your hand. While the first song on night one of their Tonight Show week was a joyous but expected take on “Dynamite” with Fallon and the Roots, they took some chances during their second performance.

As a friend of mine, a thirty-three-year-old BTS fan in Los Angeles, told me, “The second song they performed was ‘IDOL,’ ” from 2018’s Love Yourself: Answer, “and it celebrated their Korean identity. They performed it in Gyeongbokgung Palace in Seoul. They wore clothes inspired by traditional dresses called hanboks;it was almost entirely in Korean, so it felt super subversive. As a fan, I read it as: ‘Dynamite’ was an invitation, and this is who we are and this is our home.”

“I was a little concerned that people might not understand,” Fallon says. “I was like, ‘There’s nothing in English here.’ But what you see is just pure star power. Pure talent. Immediately, I thought, Oh, this is everything. If you’re that powerful, it transcends language.”

American popular music in the twenty-first century is more fragmented than it has been since . . . well, since Allan Sherman, Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim, and the Singing Nun battled for that number-one spot. The monoculture that the Beatles helped bring on has breathed its last breath. Each of us is the program director for our own private radio station, letting our own past habits and streaming-service algorithms serve up something close to what we want. Which is great, except that huge moments can whiz right past our ears. Each of us, even if we’re more clued in than our parents were when they were our age, can miss some era-defining, excellent shit. Particularly if the radio is our Spotify Discover Weekly, or the Pandora channel based on the band whose T-shirts we wore in college. We can let a moment pass us by if prime time is a Netflix binge, and the Tonight Show hour is spent on one more episode before bed. But we shouldn’t. “Honestly, I think it’s history that we’re living through with BTS,” Fallon says. “It’s the biggest band I’ve seen since I’ve started late night, definitely.”

THERE IS ALSO THE SMALL DETAIL THAT, UNLIKE THE BEATLES AND literally every other worldwide sensation to break in America, BTS don’t particularly need to go to the trouble. They are massive all over the world. Thanks to the recent IPO of Big Hit Entertainment, of which each member is a partner, they are all now incredibly wealthy. (Hitman Bang is the first South Korean entertainment mogul to become a billionaire.) What good is a culture in decline to a pop act this much on the ascent? “When I dreamed of becoming an artist, I listened to pop and watched all the awards shows in the United States. Being successful and being a hit in the U. S. is, of course, such an honor as an artist,” says Suga. “I feel very proud of that.”

They’re breaking out in a country that either worships them or fails to notice them. So do they feel like they’re getting enough respect in America? “How can we win everyone’s respect?” Jin asks. “I think it’s enough to get respect from people who support us. It’s similar everywhere else in the world. You can’t like everyone, and I think it’s enough to be respected by people who really love you.”

Suga agrees. “You can’t always be comfortable, and I think it’s all part of life. Honestly, we are not used to getting a ton of respect from when we first started out. But I think that gradually changes, whether it be in the States or other parts of the world, as we do more and more.”

There is, without a doubt, one colossal, unmistakable sign of respect for a musician: a Grammy. They’ve been nominated only once, and even then it was for best recording package. But their sights are set on a big one next year. RM puts it out there: “We would like to be nominated and possibly get an award.” Dragging the hoary, backward-looking, and Western-focused Grammys into the gorgeous, global world of the present through sheer force of will, talent, and hard work? Stranger things have happened. “I think the Grammys are the last part, like the final part of the whole American journey,” he says with a smile. “So yeah, we’ll see.”

The Recording Academy’s seal of approval is one thing. But BTS have already conquered the world, clowned tyrants, inspired individual fans to perform the small and achievable acts of activism that have collectively begun to save the planet, challenged toxic masculinity by leading with vulnerability, and, along the way, become bajillionaires and international idols. Whether the Grammys are paying attention matters about as much as what an Ed Sullivan audience member expected to see that night in 1964. BTS have already won.

#bangtan #jungkook #jimin #v #suga #jhope #jin #rm #o:esquire #o:interview #201123

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angelqueen04 · 3 years

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Hamliza Month, Day 18

@megpeggs @historysalt

Genderbend First Summary: Colonel Hamilton makes a new acquaintance.

Alexander marched along the snow-covered path, his shoulders hunched against the frigid air as he followed several of his fellow aides toward the local storeroom. Honestly, with every step he took he was regretting more and more his decision to purchase the voucher for these local dancing assemblies that the officers insisted on sponsoring. While he knew it was an excellent way to interact with others outside of his immediate circle of acquaintance, it was also damned cold! How many would actually show up in this kind of weather?

His mental grousing was interrupted when Tench Tilghman suddenly appeared beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Hammie, keep up!” he said cheerfully. “You lollygag far enough behind and you’ll not be found ‘til spring! And stop moping over the fact that the General wouldn’t let you run off with Laurens to play soldier in the Carolinas!”

Alexander rolled his eyes, but nonetheless quickened his pace. They were nearly there, anyway. He pointedly did not respond to Tilghman’s comment about Laurens. Yes, he missed his friend. Yes, he wished the General had let him accompany Laurens down south to fight Cornwallis. None of that was a secret.

“Besides,” Tench added, “tonight’s going to be special! I overheard Dr. Cochran talking to the General – apparently Mrs. Cochran’s niece has come to stay with them. It’s Miss Elizabeth Schuyler, direct from Albany!”

Ah. So that explained Tench’s high spirits. Alexander could recall Tench waxing poetic over the vaunted Miss Schuyler more than once over the years. He had met back in ’75 during a visit he had made to the Albany area, calling her “good-natured” and describing her “dark, lovely eyes” and how they emphasized her “good temper and benevolence”. Tench had been clearly smitten with her, and still was, it appeared. [1]

Alexander himself could not claim any acquaintance with the lady. His trip to Albany after the victory at Saratoga had included a brief visit to General Schuyler’s home, where he had hoped to gain advice on the best manner to convince General Gates to release his vicelike grip on a number of troops who were desperately needed further south, but the lady in question had not been home at the time.[2] Still, he also recalled the joke she had made to Tilghman, which the man had passed along, about how she had teased him about his “upcoming nuptials” and that she looked forward to being “a bridesmaid at his wedding”. Alexander was not entirely sure of the context of this little joke – Tilghman had not retold it very well – but from what he could tell, that did not bode well for his friend’s chances with her, if she was talking about attending his bride rather than being the bride herself.

Finally, they arrived at their destination and made their way inside. Grateful to finally be out of the cold, Alexander sought and obtained a glass of punch. Sipping it, he was surprised to discover that it wasn’t half-bad. Whoever had organized the refreshments must have gotten creative, since it was far above the swill that was normally served.

It did not take long for the music and dancing to begin. General Washington, who greatly enjoyed dancing, led the first set by stepping out with Mrs. Greene. Alexander, knowing his duty to the ladies who had come tonight, partnered with a Miss Abigail Rollins, who had in the past proved a better dancer than conversationalist. This was the first time he had seen her since the previous winter, and time had not much improved her, as she proved to be as tongue-tied as ever.

When the time came for the musicians and dancers alike to take a break, many broke into different groups, some taking the chance to reestablish acquaintances, some to discuss politics, and others simply to sit down and rest their tired feet. Alexander had thought to join the group surrounding the General – at least there he could likely be assured of some intelligent conversation – when someone calling his name through the crush caught his attention.

“Alexander! Colonel Hamilton!”

Alexander turned, and immediately brightened as a young woman, her dark hair freshly powdered, approached him, a beaming smile on her face. “Miss Livingston,” he said, suddenly feeling much cheered. He took her proffered hand and kissed it as he bowed to her. “How delightful to see that you are again come among us,” he said, feeling some measure of delight for the first time since the assembly had begun. “The room has become all the brighter from your amiable presence!”

She laughed, tapping her fan on his arm teasingly. “And you are as charming as ever, my dear friend,” she replied. “Be careful, Alexander, lest you give some poor girl the wrong idea.”

He gave her his best, most innocent expression, which only made her laugh more. As they settled into a conversation, Alexander could feel himself beginning to relax. A conversation with Kitty Livingston, a lady he had known for some years, since the days when he had boarded with her family while he attended school in Elizabethtown, was just what he needed. Someone he could engage in a conversation without undue expectations being raised.

However, he soon discovered that Kitty had other plans.

After a little time had passed, where they had asked about mutual acquaintances and her family – everyone was well – Kitty’s gaze was caught by something over her shoulder. A mischievous sparkle entered her dark eyes. “Ah, Alexander,” she said, “There is someone you should meet.”

He eyed her curiously. “And who might that be, madam?”

Kitty did not respond directly, but instead waved her hand and called, “Eliza! Here, dear, you must meet Colonel Hamilton!”

Blinking at the sudden turn in conversation, Alexander turned in the same direction Kitty was waving at. Approaching them was another young woman, dressed in a deep green silk and wool with embroidered pink flowers. Her hair powdered like Kitty’s, but not enough to entirely disguise the rich, dark color.

“Alexander,” Kitty said from his right, “please allow me to introduce my cousin, Miss Elizabeth Schuyler. Betsey, this is Colonel Alexander Hamilton, aide-de-camp to General Washington.”

Ah, so this was the lady that had so bewitched Tilghman. Taking her in, Alexander supposed he could understand the other man’s interest. While she would not be considered a conventional beauty – he imagined that most would say that Kitty was the fairer of the two ladies – there was no denying that she was still very handsome. No wispy, willowy thing, there appeared a measure of health and strength in how she carried herself. Suddenly, Alexander recalled a story Tilghman had told of Eliza climbing a steep hill to a waterfall without one bit of help, while all of the other ladies of the party had required the aid of the gentlemen to make it up the steep, slippery slope.

Her most striking feature, however, the one that caught his attention the most, was Miss Schuyler’s fine, dark eyes. They sparkled in the candlelight, and lit up her entire face as she smiled and curtsied to him. Alexander was startled to feel himself blushing a bit as he bowed in return. “Miss Schuyler,” he said, “a true pleasure.”

“Indeed, Colonel Hamilton,” Miss Schuyler responded. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance as well. My father has spoken highly of you and your talents. He asked me to convey his best wishes to you, should we have occasion to meet.”

Alexander was startled, but pleased. He had come to like and respect General Schuyler – though now technically he was Mr. Schuyler now, serving in Congress – when they had met during Alexander’s trip to Albany. It was gratifying to be remembered by such an excellent man.

As he fell into conversation with the two ladies, he could not help but take Miss Schuyler in further. It didn’t appear that Tilghman had exaggerated her qualities. There was something warm about the lady. She did not put on airs or give herself graces, but spoke gently and kindly. While she didn’t appear to have Kitty’s razor-sharp wit, she was by no means dull or simpering either. Miss Schuyler was well-informed of the doings of Congress – something Alexander attributed to her father’s position – and was keenly interested in the plight of the soldiers. “Mrs. Washington has invited me to join her on her rounds in visiting them,” she mentioned. Her expression was open and earnest. “I hope to be useful in any way I can.”

Soon enough, the musicians retook their positions and began to play again. A young man, a major, appeared and bowed to Kitty. “Miss Livingston, I believe I have the pleasure of the next set?”

Kitty beamed. “Indeed so, Major Gibbons.” Taking his outstretched hand, she flashed a smile in both Alexander and Miss Schuyler’s direction before stepping off with the man, leaving the two of them alone.

Alexander glanced around. He did not see anyone else approaching to claim Miss Schuyler for the next dance, which surprised him. New arrivals were always a subject of much interest, and their cards would be filled up quickly. In fact, he was equally surprised that Tilghman hadn’t bounded over to her like an overexcited pup, given his earlier anticipation of her company.

“If you are not engaged, Miss Schuyler,” Alexander said impulsively, “might I induce you to join me on the floor?”

A flicker of surprise crossed her handsome features, and then she smiled at him. “I would be honored, Colonel,” she replied, her voice soft. Obligingly, he held out his hand to her, and she laid her gloved hand in his own so that he might lead her out among the other couples.

It turned out, Alexander soon discovered, that Miss Schuyler was as excellent a dancer as she was good company off of the dance floor. At end of the assembly, he had the chance to escort her out to the sleigh that would bear her back to aunt and uncle’s lodgings. He aided her into the sleigh, helping her settle into the seat next to Kitty, and then kissed her hand before stepping back.

“I have had a most enjoyable evening in your company, Miss Schuyler,” Alexander said. “I do hope we shall meet again in the near future.”

“As do I, Colonel Hamilton,” Miss Schuyler said, her smile now taking on a shy but pleased quality. She then glanced at Kitty briefly, before adding, “We were planning to go for a sleigh ride in a few days. We should be delighted if you would join us.” [3]

He bowed. “It would be my honor,” Alexander said, and was pleased to feel that he truly meant it. He found he rather liked this young lady that Kitty had introduced him to.

There was no chance to say anything else, because at that moment the driver of their sleigh flicked the whip and the horses started forward, carrying the ladies off.

As he walked back toward headquarters a short time later, Alexander found that he did not so much mind the cold as he had earlier in the evening. He felt pleasantly warm the whole way.

-----

[1] Tench Tilghman was very complimentary of Eliza when he described her in his diary, and it sounds as though he did indeed have something of a crush on her.

[2] This is speculation on my part. There really is no way of knowing for certain one way or the other if Eliza and Alexander first met when he visited the area after the Battle of Saratoga. It’s possible, of course, but it’s equally possible that Eliza may have been in Boston at the time, visiting Angelica. Chernow, for one, seems to believe that they did meet at this time, but he does not cite a source to back this belief up. All we really do know is that Alexander arrived in Albany in early November 1777 and did visit the Schuyler family home while in the area. But I would point out that, at this time, Angelica was pregnant with her first child (who would be born in April 1778), so it’s possible that Eliza had gone to visit and help her prepare for the birth and motherhood to come. I went with that interpretation here.

[3] Alexander Hamilton to Catharine Livingston and Elizabeth Schuyler, circa January/February 1780.

#my fanfiction #hamliza month #hamliza #alexander hamilton #elizabeth schuyler hamilton #catharine livingston

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cdt12345 · 3 years

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I just finished answering one of these and now I wanna know yours. Top 10 straight OTPs?

1.) Ben and Leslie - Parks and Recreation

If this was my OTPs list, they’d be second after Gallavich, but since this is straight couples, they have to be my number one. Amy Poehler and Adam Scott had great chemistry. Adam Scott played a lot of creepy/bad guys before this. So, when he showed up in Pawnee, I didn’t know what to make of him when he came in at the end of season 2. Pretty quickly I realized I was not only going to love the character of Ben Wyatt but we finally found Leslie Knope’s perfect match! I’ll never forget the moment I knew I was going to ship them. It was at the Freddy Spaghetti concert when Ben helped Leslie after he was against doing the concert in the first place. As soon as I saw Ben give Leslie that look as she walked away, I knew I was all in with this ship. That’s all it took! Leslie finally met someone who got her, admired her, was in awe of her, and was so supportive of her and her ambitions. They were both willing to put their jobs at risk by making their relationship known. And if you know Leslie Knope, her job is her life. Leslie’s love for Ben’s butt is also something I loved. Their love for each other is so beautiful and one of my favorite things about this amazing show.

2.) Ava and Boyd - Justified

Joelle Carter and Walton Goggins did amazing work together onscreen. Ava and Boyd Crowder did not have the most conventional start to their romantic relationship, seeing as Ava was married to Boyd’s brother. For me, that is a deal-breaker! I know they’re not blood relatives but it’s still weird to me when in-laws get together. In the pilot, we learn Ava has just killed her husband in self-defense and Boyd was supposed to be killed off in that episode. The powers that be, loved both Joelle and Walton so much they brought them back for more and they were series regulars for the rest of the series run. To keep Ava part of the storyline, they had Boyd staying at Ava’s house in season 2. It all evolved from there. I had no intention of shipping these two during season 1, but by season 2, I was all about Ava and Boyd getting together. They were the true definition of a power couple. They even had matching bullet scares on their chest! They stood side by side as a strong force against anyone who tried to overpower them or intimidate them in their growing criminal enterprise. Boyd really saw Ava, treated her with respect, and saw her as his equal. They had a long history, even went to the same high school together. I always love a couple who has known each other since they were kids. I never thought I would root for current or former in-laws, but it was hard not to fall in love with them.

3.) Jess and Nick - New Girl

I knew I was going to ship them from the very first episode. They are everything I love in a good ship, complete opposites who bring out the best in each other, who are also friends. Over the years, any time Jess would describe her perfect man, she was always describing Nick without realizing it. Once she was asked what her dream guy would be, and she said Walter Matthau in Grumpy Old Men and Nick fits that perfectly. He really is like a grumpy old man. There was nothing these two wouldn’t do for each other. One example of this was when Jess burns her finger on a cigarette lighter in the car and Nick puts his finger in the cigarette lighter so they would be in the same amount of pain. Who even does that?! I was so happy when they finally had their first kiss and when they officially got together. Those are some of my favorite episodes when they were finally dating. Any time they dated anyone else it became even more clear how much better they are together. They never fit with anyone else as well as they fit together. They really were perfect for each other.

4.) Corey and Topanga - Boy Meets World

Corey and Topanga are the OG’s of childhood sweethearts on TV. They’ve known each other their whole lives and were very believable in their genuine love for each other. It’s not always easy to believe that people who get married that young can make it work, but these two always seemed to defy those odds. They got married during their sophomore year of college. Today I would be like whoa that’s too soon to get married! But they felt so right together, I believe I would still think they made the right choice. I may be biased because I grew up watching this show and I was even younger than them at that time, but it always felt like they were meant to be. I still remember what a big deal their wedding was. My friends and I were so excited about that episode. They clearly did do the right thing because the show came back as Girl Meets World, which was more focused on their daughter than them, so of course, I wasn’t planning on watching all that. The only good thing to come out of that reboot, for me, was to get confirmation that Corey and Topanga were still together and had two kids.

5.) Arnold and Helga - Hey Arnold!

This was a very one-sided crush on Helga’s part for years! This was another show I grew up on. I shipped them so hard because Helga was obsessively in love with Arnold. It definitely wasn’t a healthy obsession, but she really loved him. It was hard not to root for her. She fell in love with him when he was the first to notice her and be nice to her on their first day of preschool. A part of me could identify with her at that time in my life. I was in 5th grade and was experiencing my first love too. She was always so mean to Arnold because she was terrified for anyone to even suspect she had a major crush on him. The best way to describe Arnold is through Helga’s own words, he’s “a funny little football-headed kid with a good heart but no sense of reality”. Helga was realistic and tough but very poetic and sweet in private. In 2017, when Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie came out, I was really hoping she would finally come clean with Arnold about her feelings. It FINALLY happened! That was 21 years in the making. Talk about slow burn!

6.) Tiffani and Jake - California Dreams

Jake and Tiffani are one of my very first ships ever. They were high school students who were in a band called California Dreams together. They were like night and day. She was the surfer type, who was positive, sunny, and friendly. Whereas Jake was a biker type who scared everyone. They were even too scared to let him audition for the band. He played guitar and would sometimes sing and write some of their songs. He wasn’t the main singer of the band, but he would sing every once in a while. She played the bass and would sometimes sing too. They did have a breakup that was heartbreaking for me. He dated their friend Lorena for a short time, and it felt so forced and didn’t work at all. Again, I could be biased because I love Jake and Tiffani, but Jake himself and Lorena realized they didn’t work either. That’s when Jake realized he was still very much in love with Tiffani, and they got back together. This show also had the best theme song ever! I sing it every single time I hear it and when I do hear it, it’s stuck in my head all day.

7.) Monica and Chandler - Friends

I always preferred Monica and Chandler over Ross and Rachel. They were never on and off like Ross and Rachel, which would get tiresome. We never had to deal with that with Monica and Chandler. Obviously, they are friends and know each other so well that it was easy for them to get through anything because of it.

8.) Castle and Beckett - Castle

Richard Castle and Kate Beckett had amazing chemistry, even after the actors themselves were no longer getting along behind the scenes. I am amazed at how they were still able to be so believable at being very much in love with each other. Castle, a best-selling mystery novelist, and Beckett, a New York City homicide detective. Castle is inspired by Beckett and she becomes his muse for a new book he is writing. Castle uses his connections with the mayor to force the police to let him shadow Beckett. Their personalities clash in the beginning but they soon find their groove and become friends and great partners at solving crimes. The will they, won’t they was excruciating at times but paid off when they finally got together.

9.) Sabrina and Harvey - Sabrina The Teenage Witch

Sabrina and Harvey were such a cute couple. I already went into this show knowing they were meant to be because of the Sabrina comic books. Harvey was always the boyfriend. So, when Harvey left the show after season 4, I was surprised and saddened. Especially, since Harvey had finally learned about her powers. He did guest star in season 5 but was brought back for the last two seasons. I really loved when he came back because Sabrina and Harvey’s relationship was so much better after he knew about her powers. They didn’t get back together and were only friends but whenever things got complicated, he was there to help her now that he knew she was a witch. She didn’t have to hide who she really was or lie to him anymore and I really loved how that changed their relationship. Sabrina was dating someone else at this time and was going to marry this other guy, but she doesn’t go through with it. For once I can actually say Sabrina and Harvey are soulmates and really mean it! Remember she is a witch and has a soul stone and Harvey was given one too. Harvey is waiting for Sabrina outside the church when she comes out and they kiss. Their soul stones drop to the ground and fit perfectly at 12:36pm, the exact time they first met seven years ago.Then they drive off together in his motorcycle.

10.) Kelly and Zack - Saved by The Bell

Who didn’t grow up in the 90′s and wasn’t shipping Zack and Kelly? I thought they were the most gorgeous couple I had ever seen. Saved by The Bell: The College Years wasn’t a great show, but I was happy to see Zack and Kelly went to the same college, and eventually, we got to see them get married in a TV movie with Saved by The Bell: Wedding in Las Vegas.

#parks and recreation #leslie knope #ben wyatt #ava crowder #boyd crowder #justified #new girl #jessica day #nick miller #boy meets world #hey arnold #california dreams #friends #castle #caskett #sabrina the teenage witch #saved by the bell

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the-hot-zone · 4 years

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@agentcalliope THE REVIEW GOT TOO LONG FOR AO3′S REVIEW BOX AND WOULDN’T LET ME POST IT SO HERE IT IS. I’M SORRY IT’S SO LONG BUT I REALLY LIKE YOUR FIC SDKSDK

I mean firstly, the only thing I can say after reading this is, wow. Wow. Holy shit, wow. They way everything builds--the capitalization, the punctuation, the epithets, the prose--to demonstrate on both a subconscious and conscious level how Azula develops. The reader is comprehending these words, but also they’re registering the way you use spacing, punctuation, and capitalization, forcing the reader to slow down/stop/keep reading at certain parts, which creates a flow that a) sounds like Azula b) portrays her mental state and c) shows her development. It’s like a crescendo of writing conventions that never stops moving, and god I just. I’m fangirling a lil bit over your writing. There’s not a wasted line, space, italicization, quotation mark, period, comma, or word in this fic. Everything serves a purpose, and the way it builds--just. Wow. I can see the work you put into editing and revising this, and I want you to know that you’ve communicated your point extremely well. I’m moved. As a reader, I’m in tears. As a writer, I’m floored (and I’m taking notes.) God, okay, time to get specific.

The stylization. This is one of my fav writing styles--the blend of poetry and narration--that I don’t get to see a whole lot, and it’s hard to pull off. I really feel like you’ve used that style to its full potential; in your hands, it feels like that style was made to tell Azula’s story. I really, really like this, so I hope you don’t mind if I talk about why? Which means analyzing; analyzing is my love language, and I love your fic, truly.

In the beginning of the fic, she is “the girl;” she is “a princess,” not “Azula.” This shows how, with her defeat, Azula has lost herself completely (”someone is screaming who is screaming”). Ozai built her for a role she no longer has, so she has lost her identity, her sense of self. So, when she accepts the identity of monster, that is something she must unlearn through Iroh and for herself.

The first time the reader reads Azula’s name (as “azula), it’s isolated by a line break and positioned right after a long, run-on thought from Azula (”he doesn’t look quite...”) and before “the boy says.” This shows how Azula’s name, her identity, is separate from a) her inner monologue and thus her sense of self and b) how she perceives the world around her (outside of dialogue). And this further illustrates the importance of dialogue in this fic; dialogue is the connection from her inner monologue to how she perceives the world. Thus, later in the fic, when Iroh speaks the first line of quotation-mark-surrounded dialogue, it shows how he gets through to her. AH THE WAY YOU BUILD EVERYTHING UP. Also, her description of Ozai in this scene as “the person she knows to love” has so much meaning. It’s like a lesson she’s learned, a fact she’s been taught: to love Ozai. The way you inject so much meaning into line breaks, and the layers of depth you add to single lines. Immaculate. I can really describe it as masterful.

Azula finally refers to herself as “azula” once Zuko says “I will never give up on you” Not only that, however, but the first time she refers to him as “zuko” instead of “the boy” is also when he says “I will never give up on you.” Also, that same piece of dialogue contains “uncle never gave up on me,” which shows how Uncle’s patience connects both Azula and Zuko in their respective healing journeys. Which, oh my god, I love Uncle’s role in Azula’s healing in this fic. His remorse for leaving her with Ozai is so tangible and painful to read. I love how you portray his characters; he comes off the page as Uncle Iroh; his characterization is so strong.

But the scene after Azula finally refers to herself as “azula,” Suki comes in. For one, “zuko and katara beat you or did you forget?” is written with a question mark, showing the significant of that line and how it affects Azula, shown in “azula screams.” Azula connects the person who is screaming with herself; she is still fracturing due to her loss. (Because her loss of the Agni Kai is symbolic of like, her failing everything Ozai built her up to be: the opposite of Zuko.)

The scene where Aang comes is where punctuation in Azula’s inner monologue first appears: “the avatar’s gray eyes are soft and full of sympathy and it makes her angry.” I feel like this is her echoing Ozai’s sentiments, especially with “a princess is not pathetic.” Patheticness was something Azula had always associated with Zuko, so these lines sound a lot like Ozai to me. But “not made to be pitied” is next, without any punctuation. This is because pity is a new emotion for her to face, and she does not associate it with “a princess,” seen in the later lines “now the girl sees not pity but weakness” What’s important here is that Azula is “a girl” again. Aang’s pity is the antithesis to Ozai; peace where he sees bloodshed and war, and it blindsides her. Bro I just, the way you communicate Ozai’s presence so subtly yet so strongly... the talent.

Also: “it makes me feel sad for you the avatar answers“ Stop making me cry!!! THAT LINE WAS HEARTBREAKING. The snippets of Aang in this fic were lovely to read.

iirc, the first full line we get, capitalized, with punctuation, is when Toph is talking to Azula: “I just wanted to tell you that I know what it's like to have Expectations to have parents that expect certain things of you. It sucks. but you suck too. no wonder everyone hates you.”

THE LAYERS OF MEANING:

a) Expectations is capitalized, showing the significance of expectations to Azula; her mind latches onto it. (I love the significance of expectations throughout this fic and how the play into Azula’s sense of identity and healing jdkfkfAHH like with the TEA.)

b) This is where Azula’s “new” sense of self as “monster” begins to develop. “but you suck too. no wonder everyone hates you.” Both are short and with periods, showing the weight of Toph’s words.

When Katara sees Azula, iirc, we get the longest string of sentences with periods so far. Periods are becoming more common, showing how Azula’s identity is beginning to come together, but it’s an identity as monster: “your own brother. you’re disgusting. you’re a monster.” The repetitiveness and switch between your and you’re is almost like a rhythm, pounding “you’re a monster” into Azula’s head. After Katara leaves, we get the first full sentence Azula says: “I’ve never pretended to be anything else.”

Azula sees herself as a monster; she’s seeing the weight of her past actions.

When Iroh arrives, we get the longest string of sentences WITH capitalization in this point of the fic (I think): “It’s sweet. You have always loved sweet tea, my niece. A fascinating contrast.” And a new identity is introduced: my niece.

When Azula asks for Uncle after the nightmare, we get the first time a name is capitalized in the fic: Uncle. Not even Ozai has “father” capitalized. This shows Iroh’s significance in her healing journey. Not only that, but Uncle is the one that comes to her, not Ozai. This contrast between Ozai’s absence and Uncle’s presence is what begins to allow Azula to heal--and what ultimately helps her truly stay on the path of healing. I love how you build up the notion of Ozai not being there for Azula, not coming to get her. The way it culminates in the end feels like such strong, real development because of your build-up.

Once Uncle begins to visit regularly, your writing becomes more abundant with “proper” sentences. This is one of my fav examples of this:

“Uncle continues to bring her sweet tea. He talks to her. He sits next to her as she leans against the wall and speaks many tales of spirits and beautiful women. azula almost looks forward to his visits. Almost.”

Every sentence except the one that begins with “azula’ is capitalized. She’s not there yet, with her identity, but Uncle is there. And when Azula says “but I am a monster,” the fic gets its first line of quotation-enclosed dialogue:

“Oh, my dear. My beautiful niece. I don’t believe that.”

And then, right after that, we get “Princess Azula.” This is the first time Azula is capitalized, and Uncle says it. But Azula is the one perceiving the dialogue; she is accepting “Princess Azula.” Sure enough, right after that, we get this:

“Azula narrows her eyes suspiciously.”

The first time Azula refers to herself in her inner monologue as Azula. FINALLY. FUCK. This is one of the most satisfying developments in this fic, when Azula finally sees herself as “Azula,” even if she’s not all the way there yet. Your build-up makes this moment feel amazing.

Another thing I loved was how Azula is obsessed with getting the tea perfect; the tea is a reflection of herself; “She will make his jasmine tea, and she will make it precisely the way it is expected to be.”

HIS jasmine tea. Not HER jasmine tea. This shows that she’s trying to fit a mold she thinks Iroh has for her; she will make the tea as it is expected to be; SHE will be exactly as she is expected to be.

But when she fails, Iroh simply says “Let’s try it again.” When Azula fails to be “perfect,” pain and fear isn’t waiting for her. Iroh is. So when Iroh says,

“I am just an old man looking forward to trying his niece’s cup of tea, which she has worked hard on.”

This is so important. It is HIS NIECE’S (Azula’s) cup of tea, which SHE has worked hard on. In other words, it is Azula’s healed identity that she has worked hard on, and it is “one of the best teas I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing in my life.” Just. The symbolism. Fuck. So good.

Then, in the next scene, she tells Zuko to tell Aang she’s sorry. This brings back Sokka’s earlier words, “you won't ever apologize for what you’ve done or bear responsibility for your actions and we both know it.” BUT AZULA IS UNLEARNING, and that is tangible development, babey. In a way, Sokka was right, because the “you” he was talking to wasn’t the Azula that’s now wanting to apologize to Aang. Azula as “Azula” didn’t exist then; now she does. I can’t this fucking fic I am STUNNED. The way you introduce and maintain concepts to develop Azula’s journey... It’s amazing AH

“Azula cradles her own cup in her hands and breathes in the steam, letting it cling to her face.“ Bro I just wanted to say that this line gave me brilliant imagery. You perfectly described how it feels to hold a mug of something warm and breathe it in, like ahhh the sensory imagery was so VIVID.

“Zuko tears off a piece of bread, and places it on her palm. She looks down at it, her hand without crackling cackling blue fire. The only blue is the water, beautiful and clear.” Thinking bout the contrast, and how the color blue used to separate her from the world; now it joins her to it (turtleducks.) YOUR LAYERS. Another contrast I love was the one between “red drapes that used to block out the sun when it rises every morning” and “basking in Agni’s light.” This reminds me of the Sun Warriors and Zuko learning the true meaning of fire, as something full of life and light, not something that only burns. That was my favorite contrast throughout the fic, and the most meaningful to me.

Azula saying “Why not?” to Sokka was everything I need in life.

“Azula brings herself out of the palace, and back into the prison.“ Ozai is her prison. The wording. THE WORDING SAYS SO MUCH. The way she comes to Ozai--but. He never came for her. Uncle did. She has new experiences and a new sense of self; she’s not the Azula she was, and she’s not the Azula Ozai is expecting. So when you write

“Because he has made Azula into Azula, and he has done it well.”

and she walks away, it’s a defiance of everything she’s been, everything she was forced to be. Azula made Azula into Azula, and she understands this.

“This is not what she was made for.” is a recognition that Ozai forced her into a role that was never for kindness, for love, for acceptance, for change. As she learns and unlearns, unmakes her identity as a monster, she’s understanding that Ozai never intended for Azula to be her own Azula. And this means she sees the world through her own eyes, not Ozai’s:

“his eyes not wounded and sad but fierce and soft and she knows what he’s saying isn’t a lie.”

JUST. The way you built this fic. You saw more than words as your tools, and I am honestly in awe of the way you used writing conventions. This fic is so strong because you literally made everything about Azula; Azula is this fic. THE ARTISTRY. I really, really hope you’re proud of the story you’ve built. Thank you for writing.

(ALSO TOPH WAS EVERYTHING I NEEDED AND MORE.)

#avatar the last airbender #atla #agentcalliope #and it's my whole heart (weighed and measured)#fic reivew #analysis is my love language #y'all ever spend three hours on a fic review #and then get so hungry you gobble five chicken wings immediately after #me #SORRY IT'S SO LONG #sometimes you gotta review a fanfic instead of revising your essay about fanfic #thank you for writing

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