#colors!!!! I cannot put into words the pride I feel for you and all of our jaws are on the floor with how you faced everything down head on
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KINKTOBER day 8
pairings: ringmaster!yelena belova x fem!reader
summary: you and yelena are getting ready for a big circus night.
warnings: smut!!!, bootworship, leg humping, yelena being mean, like really mean, slight kicking, yelena is being harsh, not proofread, if anything else let me know
word count: 2.2k
an: she´s so mean i love her, also can we all agree that florence is rocking every look? im so gay, i need her asap, also this is very much dedicated to the one annon, who was really happy that i´m writing yelena, sooo if you´re reading this, i hope you like:)
(italics = your thoughts)
!MDNI!
Enjoy this spooky season and be safe!
As you sit nervously in Yelena's luxurious office, your palms are sweaty and your heart racing, you can't help but feel a surge of anxiety pulsating through your veins. Today is the night of the grandest show, and you are waiting for your boss, Yelena, who is the ringmaster of the most magnificent circus in the whole country. Even though you have to put up with Yelena's severe attitude in order to fulfill your demanding duty as her assistant, it's an honor to be a part of her world. But today, she seems to be acting much more furiously.
The tension in the room is palpable, and you can't shake off the feeling that tonight's performance is more critical than any that came before. Yelena's office has a harsh professionalism that contrasts dramatically with the vibrant circus outside. Dark-colored walls, a finely polished wooden desk, and leather chairs create a refined and serious atmosphere. The few decorations that adorn the room are carefully selected and maintained. Instead of vivid colors, the office is dominated by shades of deep charcoal gray.
On the walls, there are a few framed photos displaying new costume ideas and sketches. These costume concepts, though they carry the potential for vibrant and dazzling displays, appear as muted pencil sketches, that she made herself.
The door to the office swings open, and Yelena enters, her vibrant costume and piercing gaze commanding the attention of the room. Her red and gold attire shimmers under the soft glow of the office lights, her face adorned with black make-up, her hair is slick back, and her overall look screams that she owns this place. And much more... she owns the people here too.
"Finally," she snaps, her voice as sharp, a growl, and you flinch at the acidic tone that cuts through the room.
Your racing heart threatens to betray your composure, but you hold your ground, offering a tentative smile. "I'm sorry, Yelena. I was just making sure everything was-"
She cuts you off with a wave of her hand. "No excuses, just be useful for once. The spotlight is on me tonight, and I will not tolerate any mistakes. Make sure the costumes are in order, the animals are ready, and the performers are sharp. We can't afford to falter."
Her words sting, and you swallow your pride, nodding obediently. Despite her harsh exterior, you understand that tonight means as much to her as it does to you. The circus is her kingdom, and she is the reigning queen. You cannot help but wonder if her anger is just a shield, a way to cope with the immense pressure she carries on her shoulders.
You´re in for a long night under Yelena's watchful, unrelenting eye, but it's all part of the mesmerizing, chaotic world of the circus. As the ringmaster departs for her preparations, you steal a glance at the eager audience beyond the office window, ready to be dazzled.
As Yelena gazes out of the office window onto the bustling circus grounds, her expression remains stern. Her crimson-gloved fingers drum impatiently on the window shelf. With a cool, calculating voice, she turns to you, and says, "The show starts in twenty minutes, and I see you've managed to mess up nearly everything, as usual."
Your heart sinks, and you find yourself on the receiving end of her relentless critique. It's not uncommon for Yelena to be demanding, but today, her tone cuts deeper, her words more vicious than ever.
She continues, "The costumes were wrinkled, the animals look dispirited, and the performers have that 'couldn't-care-less' attitude. It's no wonder I had to come and check on you, because you clearly can't be trusted to get anything right."
You struggle to hold back tears as her words strike like daggers. You have poured your heart and soul into ensuring that everything runs smoothly, but Yelena's critical remarks have the ability to destroy your self-confidence.
Her piercing gaze remains fixed on you, her face says it right away, no trace of empathy at all. "You're lucky you have a boss like me to catch your countless mistakes. If it weren't for my watchful eye, this circus would have fallen apart long ago. There's no room for error, especially not tonight. Do you understand?"
As you nod in silence, the weight of her criticism threatens to crush your spirit, but you know that, in this world, in Yelena´s world, perfection is the only standard. With trembling hands you put your fallen hair behind your ears, trying to regain your composure and make sure tonight's performance lives up to Yelena's exacting standards.
Yelena fixes her gaze on you, her eyes still piercing but with a faint glimmer of something resembling compassion. "You know, I could fire you right now if I wanted to," she says, her tone less venomous but still firm.
You nod quickly, unable to meet her eyes, "Yes, I know."
A hint of a cynical smile crosses her lips. "I'm being kinder to you than you deserve, you know," she continues.
Again, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, I know."
Yelena sighs, her frustration evident, but there is something in her eyes, that you don´t understand, yet. "You might be a mess, but you're my mess," she admits, almost grudgingly.
Your heart flutters with a mix of relief as you nod again, saying, "Yes, I know." You understand that, for all her harshness, you occupy a unique place in Yelena's world. In this chaotic, enigmatic circus, you're her right-hand, for better or for worse.
Yelena glances at the ornate clock on her office wall, a rare hint of anxiety crossing her features. "We have just 15 minutes before the show starts," she says, her tone monotone.
You dare to seize this fleeting opportunity. "Yelena," you begin hesitantly, "Can you please-"
She raises an eyebrow, clearly irritated but willing to listen for once. "Go on," she snaps.
You take a deep breath and finally ask the question that has been lingering in your mind for far too long. "Can I have... can you touch me?" You don´t dare to look into her eyes, “you´ve said that if I´ll be good for the next few weeks, you will let me-” you quickly stop yourself before saying the word, that felt so naughty to you.
“Cum?” She smirks, but her composure still stays still.
You simply just nod.
“I didn´t say I will let you cum, I´ve said I will think about it,” she tilts her head. “And you think you did such a phenomenal job, that you deserve to be touched by me, let alone cum?” She chuckles.
“Yes, I do.” You mumble, but it was loud enough for Yelena to hear.
For a moment, Yelena seemed taken aback, as if your answer wasn't what she was expecting. But she likes you being more confident and direct. Then, with a reluctant nod, she agrees, "You have 13 minutes. Get on your knees,” she said it like it was such a bother to her, which it was in a way.
You instantly drop to your knees.
Yelena takes a step closer to you. In that moment, you glance down and notice something – a pair of classic Doc Martens boots on her feet, an elegant choice, they also look very new, so she must have bought them for tonight's occasion.
Yelena notices your gaze fixated on her boots and a sly idea takes root in her mind. She smirks and, maintaining her stern demeanor, she speaks, "You can get off on my shoe." Your eyes instantly meet hers. Before you can say anything, she adds, “12 minutes.”
“I-” you don´t even know what you want to say to her.
“Fine, if you don´t want it, then don´t waste my time.” Yelena turns away, ready to walk out of her office.
“Wait!” She can feel that you crawl on the floor to grip her leg.
Yelena just looks down and stops in her tracks, “I´m waiting, but the people are not.” She sighs, “11 minutes.” she once again checks the clock.
As for Yelena´s request, months ago, you stopped wearing panties, first it was just around or in the office rule, but now it´s been almost four months since you´ve seen your panties.
You simply raise your skirt and get to work. Being wet around Yelena was basically your main task as her assistant, so none of you are surprised when her new shoe is already covered with your juices. You also didn´t want to waste any more time as you knew very well, she would kick you off of her and leave you there without zero pity.
So you had to do it quickly, it was a week without her touch and even more time without you being able to cum. Yelena is saying “cumming is too distracting, when you need perfection.” And of course, her little stupid toy can´t do more than one thing at the same time.
“9 minutes.” Yelena says with something that sounds like disgust in her voice.
Your hips speed up at her words and your nails digs into her calf, which she won´t admit aloud, but she is enjoying this moment a lot. To have power over someone's life was on her daily basis, but it is different with you. She knew you would do anything for her, even if it meant it would hurt you.
Many times, she wanted to direct her emotions on something, especially her rage and that was a moment where you´ve volunteered and she knew right away, she's going to keep you as her little stupid punching bag, that she will occasionally award with little touch or maybe an orgasm, when you would behave.
“7 minutes.”
You know you have permission to release, but you still want to show her how good you can be. “P-please, may I cum?” you let out soft whimpers.
“Are you that stupid? Do you want me to write a blessing?” She aggressively moved her shoe up and down, and because Yelena was really strong and her thighs could kill people, it wasn’t hard to lift you up.
“S-sorry...” you whine out loud this time.
“Did I tell you to speak?” Her gaze met yours and you immediately look away, bitting your lower lip to stay quiet as possible.
You continue of rocking your hips, feeling how your clit is getting more sensitive, as her shoe is the perfect material for you to hump.
“4 minutes.” And with Yelena´s words, you come. Your juices being everywhere, on her shoe, on her pants, on your skirt, on the extremely expensive carpet, just everywhere.
Yelena looks down on the mess you´ve made and with a big sight she says, "Your incompetence is almost a talent in itself." She moves her feet, and you fall as you´re not even fully back from your strong orgasm.
“3 minutes.” She is still counting down. But to what? You´ve already came. "Is it too much to ask for a shred of intelligence from you? Apparently, it is." She moves her feet in the air, hoping you will finally get it.
Still nothing.
Her patience fading, observes the mess you have made and finally mutters, "The shoe won't clean it itself, you know. Or perhaps you were expecting a miracle?" Her tone, as always, laced with disdain and a hint of mockery, serves as a reminder that in her world, only immediate action and perfection are acceptable.
Oh.
You quickly lower yourself as you know that you do not have much time, so you open your mouth and your tongue kitten licks her shoe clean, at least you are trying to. Tasting the mixture of yourself and the leather bring you shivers right to your pussy, as you would want to cum again and again and again-
“1 minute.” Yelena put her foot in the air, for you to clean even the bottom of her shoe. Now tasting only plastic rubber, which wasn´t the most tasteful thing, but your only wish right now is to do a decent job for Yelena and her satisfaction.
“Get off.” She put her foot down and inspects your work.
Yelena inspects the work you've completed, and after a long pause, she remarks, "Well, it's not a bad job. I might be a little impressed."
Your eyes light up with excitement, and you ask, "Really?"
Yelena smirks and adds with a hint of sarcasm, "Oh, don't get too carried away. I did say 'a little,' after all. We wouldn't want you to think you've achieved mastery, now would we?"
Coming from Yelena herself, not on paper, but in person, this is a compliment.
Yelena continues, "Next time, I expect you will do without being told what to do, a concept known as 'initiative,' in case you're unfamiliar."
She smirks, "But then again, I wouldn't want to deprive you of the joy of my guidance, would I?"
Yelena turns to leave, her Doc Martens shoes thudding against the floor with an air of firm authority. She strides toward the circus arena, ready to show the world once more, who the true master of the show is.
Ahhh so what do we think?
Also thank youuu for reading!! 💕💕
#adele writes#yelena belova#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova smut#yelena belova x fem!reader#kinktober 2023#smut#marvel universe#marvel fanfiction#marvel smut
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“Blame it on the Rain”- a Loki/F!reader story
Summary: You and Loki Laufeyson can’t stand one another, and after one-too-many pranks goes awry in the midst of your ‘merry war,’ the two of you are punished with menial labor, and the weather reports are predicting a literal storm to supplement the one stirring within you…
After reading @joyful-enchantress lovely story about rain, I wanted to write one of my own.
Word Count: 2.8k
Content Warnings: smut-adjacency, light angst, enemies-to-thirsty-af
“This is the last damn time I put up with you two children and your goddamn prank wars,” Nick Fury grumbled under his breath, rubbing the sides of his head with his fingers, as if it would do anything to quell his headache.
You felt like you were standing before the school principal, your face and body covered in glue, paint, and other various renovation supplies. Standing next to you was Loki the Trickster, the loose cannon of the Avengers, equally coated in sawdust and paint. He was more composed in the moment than you were, but that was, perhaps, because he didn’t care about impressing Nick Fury the way you were, having only been on the team for a month, still training to keep your telekinesis in check.
“They were already falling behind on renovating that new security center, and now Stark’s gonna be pissed at all the money you cost him with your little tiff,” Fury continued, groaning and beginning to pace in front of you.
Loki let a smile unwrap on his face. “Perhaps the room needed an extra splash of color.”
“Watch your mouth, Laufeyson,” Fury warned. “You know I place most of the blame on you for this.”
Mockingly, Loki placed a hand on his chest and knitted his eyebrows. “Me? Oh dear, now why would you feel that way?”
You scoffed under your breath, careful to keep your head down. You couldn’t help but feel an inkling of satisfaction that your boss was choosing to target him instead of you.
“You have something to add, Y/N?” asked Fury, raising an eyebrow.
You quickly shook your head submissively. “Only that he started it.”
“A skillful defense…for a little girl,” Loki replied, the snark in his voice thick and rich with pride.
“It’s the truth, you simpleton,” you answered back. “You’ve had it in for me since Day One!”
Loki smirked. “Maybe it’s because I find you entertaining?” he asked tauntingly.
Ignoring the slight shift in his posture, standing taller to assert dominance over you, spreading his legs slightly apart, you gritted your teeth in response. “Maybe I’m not here to entertain you in the first place—”
“—sweet tap-dancing Christ on a cracker, will you both shut up so I can punish you?” Fury raised his voice, silencing both of you. You bit your lip, but Loki only increased the intensity of his eye contact with Fury.
“Look, if you’re gonna mess up the entire compound with your bullshit, you could at least clean up a little. The quinjet needs a washdown, and they’ve been putting it off. So guess who gets to spend the afternoon taking care of it, kids?”
You rolled your eyes despite yourself. The damn thing would likely take upwards of a whole afternoon to wash, especially seeing as the last time it was used, it had nearly been washed away in a mudslide. You just knew the aircraft was crusted in dried dirt, mud, and woodland brush.
Loki looked at you, the wiseass smirk never leaving his face, only irking you further.
“I’d advise you both to get on it,” Fury added. “If I can’t see every wrinkle in my face in that damn jet by sunset, I’m going to use both of you for my office furniture for a month, got it?”
“He threatens us with a good time,” Loki said, winking at you. “I cannot wait to begin!”
Groaning, you shrugged and spun on your heels to leave in a huff before Fury and Loki could see that you were beginning to get flustered in a different way by the latter’s attitude.
You almost refused to admit it to yourself, but you knew you secretly had the hots for your Asgardian co-worker. How could you not? The windswept raven hair that always seemed to have a sheen to it, the tall, regal gait with which he carried himself into every room, the broad shoulders, the strong torso, the intense eyes, the jawline so hard and defined that he could cut a diamond with his chin, the way he seemed to think of leather pants and tunics as ‘casual wear,’ all of it only made you want to scream in his face more, if only to catch a whiff of his breath (you were pretty sure it would smell like wintergreen for some reason)…the list of reasons you wanted to hump him into next week went on and on.
If only he wasn’t such a goddamn babe, it’d be easier to hate him, you thought to yourself as you went back to your room upstairs, deciding that if you were going to spend the afternoon doing menial labor with the god, you may as well shower and make yourself ready for him.
Or, rather, make yourself ready for the psychological task of holding your own against him, for you got the feeling that Loki Laufeyson was already planning to torture you further once you began your sentence…
The skies to the west were darkening, ominous billows threatening to render your task more difficult.
Maybe the rain will take care of it, and we’ll be done by supper?
Alas, Loki wasn’t far behind you, and when he appeared on the roof, he too, noticed the storm clouds, but with another one of his Cheshire Cat grins. Fuck, you thought, stop showing me those perfect teeth so I can focus!
He carried a bucket of suds in one hand, two sponges and a towel in the other, but it was what he was wearing that you noticed after his luscious smile.
It was as if he’d read your mind, and the ensemble he’d chosen for the task at hand was a loose white cotton tunic on top, cinched at the waist by a wide golden belt at the hip, and his tightest black leggings underneath. He’d smartly chosen to forgo his leather boots, but the fact that he stood before you barefoot somehow only added to the Harlequin Romance Coverguy getup. He’d scooped his hair into a low braid to keep it away from his dreamy face, exposing that he had two tiny golden hoops in his earlobes (you had no idea he had pierced ears…goddamn!).
“Well, well, fancy meeting you here,” he said, his voice low and steady.
You twisted your lip to keep your uninterested façade. “When you step on a shard of glass later, I’m going to laugh so loudly that Thor will hear me all the way in New Asgard,” you said snarkishly, noting the bare feet.
Loki chuckled, shrugging and sauntering up to you, lowering the bucket of soap. He then used his newly-freed hand to reach out for yours, and in spite of yourself, you let him take it, opening it so that your palm faced up. You let Loki place one of the sponges gently in it, his gaze never leaving yours.
“I get the feeling I’m going to be a distraction,” he added. “And with rain approaching…”
You looked over at the looming clouds again, which were only growing in height and hue as they approached. You could feel a cool wind precede the front, and the closer the weather came, the more you could feel your skin tingle.
“I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that you aren’t fond of rainfall,” you replied. “I hear that your kind melt when hit with water.”
He nodded back. “I suppose you think that’s a ‘touche,’ eh?”
“It’s an invitation to get started before I drown you in the soap bucket, Loki,” you snapped.
Deciding that tempting yourself with glances at Loki as you worked would be a bad idea, you decided to start working on the wheels and undercarriage while Loki climbed onto a wing. This way, catching glances at him would be more difficult, and you could possibly finish before the rolling clouds soaked you.
After thirsty minutes, the storm clouds obscured the sun, darkening the skies dramatically, making you sigh with exasperation. Even though the previous half-hour had been spent in silence, you still had so much further to go on the jet that, at this rate, you would need Noah’s Ark to go back inside.
Yet, the cooling air felt fresher, cleaner, as the weather changed. A pluviophile at heart, rain was always your favorite kind of environment (at least when you didn’t have to perform forced labor underneath it). As a child, it was the sense of chrysalism you got from a summer shower that appealed to you, sitting in your warm room, watching the storm release itself outside of your window. As you grew up, you learned that few things in life gave you more pleasure than to walk through a downpour, or watch one from your open porch, letting the wind caress your face, making you feel replenished by the time it passed. The sound of droplets plopping on the pavement, or tapping on your window, was one of the few things that could put your anxious mind to sleep at night.
The wind picked up as you finally finished the underside of the plane, and moments later, the first droplets landed on the tarmac. It was a warm enough summer’s afternoon, so the moisture was welcome on your face, hopefully soon to wash the sweat from your forehead.
Another few moments went by before the storm properly found you, and the true torrent of the tempest finally arrived, like a showerhead you couldn’t turn off.
“Oh dear,” you could hear Loki chime from the atop wing, the loud roar of the increased wind and falling water drowning out his much of his voice. “I suppose you’ll want to come inside and wait out the weather—”
“—fat chance, Laufeyson. We are finishing this here and now!”
“Then you could meet me up here and give me a hand,” he said sarcastically. “Or are you afraid of your hair being ruined?”
You were already climbing a ladder onto the wing to meet his challenge, and just as the rain began dropping at a more consistent tempo, you clambered on top, your hair just beginning to dampen with the precipitation, your cheap eyeliner blotting and smearing.
Loki took one look at you and let out a hearty laugh. “You look like a wet raccoon! Or a clown that fell into a pond!” he chuckled.
Twisting your lip at the insult, you took a moment to think about how to reply, perhaps to trip him or throw him right off the wing…then you got a solid look at your adversary through the raindrops, which were nearly coming down in sheets already.
The white tunic was plastered to Loki’s chest, his nipples already perking enough underneath the thin fabric that you could see the pinpoints on his torso where they were appearing. His loose braid was nearly undone, the dark tendrils of his hair stuck to his face, framing it with unnatural perfection. Of course, his leggings were already as tight as you could fathom, but even now, they seemed more form-fitting, especially around the groin and ass (of course!, you thought woefully).
Ryan Gosling in The Notebook looked like a soggy sheepdog in comparison. Before you now was chiseled, dampened perfection.
And he knew it.
“Ahh, that feels wonderful doesn’t it?” Loki sighed, bringing his hands up to rake through his hair, unknotting the braid and letting it go loose.
“Are you done with this side yet?” you bit your lip, trying to make your arousal look like annoyance.
Loki shook his head. “I’ll admit, I haven’t been doing much up here for the past hour,” he confessed.
You groaned, taking your sponge and chucking it at him. He surprised you by snatching it out of midair, a cocky grin unfurling across his lip.
“Look, neither of us wants to be out here, and now I’m going to get sick tomorrow, so can we just cut the shit, and do our jobs?” you barked, slowly making your way across the top of the wing. Just as you got within arm’s length, you felt your shoe slip on the wet metal underfoot, and Loki was barely able to catch you as you stumbled forward, directly into his arms.
“I…uh…” you said, quickly attempting to recover and pull away.
He didn’t let go of you.
“What do you think?” he asked, his voice lowering, gaining a seductive quality you had only daydreamed about.
“Of what?” you asked, still irritable.
“Does the ‘wet look’ suit me?” he asked, releasing you so that he could bring his hands up to his collarbone, indicating his wet shirt but gently running his long fingers over his hard nipples and down his abs, indicating what he referred to. “You haven’t taken your eyes off of me.”
You growled, quickly losing track of any sanity or dignity you held on to. The rain, the warm wind, the sopping-wet god who may as well have been—
“—my apologies, but no use in keeping this on now,” he continued, stepping back from you, swiftly bringing his arms over his head and taking off the soaked cloth, tossing it aside with one move, leaving his chest bare and shining.
Jesus fucking tap-dancing Christ on a cracker, you thought.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” you began, before Loki closed the gap between you again, mumbling a surprisingly-gentle ‘ssh,’ and placing a finger over your lip to silence you.
“I’m making your daydreams come true,” Loki answered. “And don’t bother denying it any more, I know how much you want my cock inside you.”
Lips trembling and heart racing, Loki’s sensual suggestion sent your brain buzzing as he teased.
“You know everything about me, do you?” you said softly, Loki’s finger still on your lip, tracing the bottom one lightly as you spoke.
Loki purred. “Oh, how I’ve observed you so closely these past weeks…I know how many hairs you have on your head…”
Well, I bet you won’t expect this…
Before he could react, you parted your lips and took Loki’s finger into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over it, gently sucking, and looking up at him with dramatic bedroom eyes.
Now, it was his turn to go “I…uhh…”
When you finally released his finger, you finally returned his mischievous smile with your own. “The rain gets me hot,” you said quietly. “Don’t think it’s your body that draws me in, Loki.”
“Ah, I see! We’re blaming it on the rain now. That way, after I drag you inside this jet to fuck you senseless, you can still deny any feelings for me later!”
“Why bother dragging me inside? Let’s end this now,” you replied, taking one of Loki’s hands to the collar of your tank top, encouraging him to bring it down, exposing a breast to the rain. The water was warm on your face, but it was somehow chilly against the tender skin of your chest when you exposed it.
“Take me here,” you demanded.
Loki loomed ravenous, ready to take a bite out of you. “With pleasure…”
Shaking your head, the daydream fell apart like a crumbling sandcastle, with nothing but the remains of your fantasy puddling at your feet along with the rain. Still underneath the wing that your co-worker was on top of, you snapped back to reality.
You’d always daydreamed vividly, but this almost seemed too real, and you knew that at least your arousal was real.
“Y/N?” you could hear Loki call from above you. “Do you intend for me to do all the work out in the rain while you stand down there looking off?”
You sighed sadly, wishing everything had been real. As you went to head over to the ladder, you could hear the door to the roof open from behind you.
“Hey, you two need to come inside quickly,” called Natasha. “There’s a situation we need to take a look at.”
“Coming!” you called, satisfying Nat enough that she ducked inside instantly, possibly trying to avoid being splashed by raindrops.
You heard Loki chortle from above you. “Coming? I bet you wish you were at that…”
You rolled your eyes as he laughed, your gaze landing on the ladder. Smirking, you quickly slammed it shut and turned it on it’s side. It was light enough that you were able to sling it over a shoulder, and you were sure to take your time showing it off as you walked towards the door, purposefully swinging your hips.
Loki looked surprised as you looked up at him one more time, sopping wet, trapped on the wing of the quinjet, before you flashed him your middle finger and went inside, shutting the door behind you.
He chuckled to himself and shook his head at the trick. Oh, but I had the last laugh, he thought. She’ll be driven mad with need at the sight of me for weeks after I projected that little rainy day fantasy into her mind!
Smiling, Loki threw back his head, looking up into the rain with pride, wondering how long it would take for you to realize that your erotic daydreams were always his doing…
Just tagging a few mutuals who may enjoy...please reblog if you like it!
@joyful-enchantress @lokisgoodgirl @coldnique @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @holdmytesseract @fictive-sl0th @mischief2sarawr @glitterylokislut @sarahscribbles @silverfire475 @simplyholl
#loki#fanfiction#mcu#mcu loki#loki fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#loki laufeyson#loki x reader#loki/reader#loki smut#Loki angst#rain#storms#imagine#loki imagine#loki fluff#loki fanfic#loki angst
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DARKNESS AT THE BREAK OF NOON SHADOWS EVEN THE SILVER SPOON THE HANDMADE BLADE THE CHILDS BALLON ECLIPSE BOTH THE SUN AND MOON TO UNDERSRAND YOU KNOW TOO SOON THERE IS NOW SENSE IN TRYING POINTED THREATS THEY BLUFF WITH SCORN SUICIDE REMARKS ARE TORN FROM THE FOOLS GOLD MOUTHPIECE THE HOLLOW HORN PLAYS WASTED WORDS PROVES TO WARN THAT HE NOT BUSY BEING BORN IS BUSY DYING TEMPTATIONS PAGE FLIES OUT THE DOOR YOU FOLLOW FIND YOURSELF AT WAR WATCH WATERFALLS OF PITY WAR YOU FEEL TO MOAN BUT UNLIKE BEFORE YOU’D DISCOVER THAT YOU’D JUST BE ONE MORE PERSON CRYING SO DON’T FEAR IF YOU HEAR A FORIEGN SOUND TO YOUR EAR ITS ALRIGHT MA I’M ONLY SIGHING AS SOME WARN VICTORY SOME DOWNFALL PRIVATE REASONS GREAT OR SMALL CAN BE SEEN IN THE EYES OF THOSE WHO CALL THAT MAKE ALL THAT SHOULD BE KILLED TO CRAWL WHILE OTHERS SAY DON’T HATE NOTHING AT ALL EXCEPT HATRED DISILLUSIONED WORDS LIKE BULLETS BARK AS HUMAN GODS AIM FOR THEIR MARK MAKE EVERYTHING FROM TOY GUNS THAT SPARK TO FLESH COLORED CHRISTS THAT GLOW IN THE DARK IT’S EASY TO SEE WITHOUT LOOKING TO FAR THAT NOT MUCH IS REALLY SACRED WHILE PREACHERS PREACH OF EVEIL FATES TEACHERS TEACH THAT KNOWLEDGE WAITS CAN LEAD TO HUNDRED DOLLAR PLATES GOODNESS HIDES BEHIND ITS GATES BUT EVEN THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES SOMETIMES MUST HAVE TO STAND NAKED AND ALTHOUGH THE RULES OF THE ROAD HAVE BEEN LODGED ITS ONLY PEOPLES GAMES YOU GOT TO DODGE AND ITS ALRIGHT MA I CAN MAKE IT ADVERTISING SIGNS THAT CON YOU INTO THINKING YOURE THE ONE THAT CAN DO WHATS NEVER BEEN DONE THAT CAN WIN WHATS NEVER BEEN WON MEANWHILE LIFE OUTSIDE GOES ON ALL AROUND YOU YOU LOSE YOURSELF YOU REAPPEAR YOU SUDDENLY FIND YOUVE GOT NOTHING TO FEAR ALONE YOU STAND WITH NOBODY NEAR WHEN A TREMBLING DISTANT VOICE UNCLEAR STARTLES YOUR SLEEPING EARS TO HEAR THAT SOMEBODY THINKS THEY REALLY FOUND YOU A QUESTION IN YOUR NERVES IS LIT YET YOU KNOW THERE IS NO ANSWER FIT TO SATISFY ENSURE YOU NOT TO QUIT TO KEEP IT IN YOUR MIND AND NOT FORGET THAT IT IS NOT HE OR SHE OR THEM OR IT THAT YOU BELING TO BUT THOUGH THE MASTERS MAKE THE RULES FOR THE WISE MEN AND THE FOOLS I GOT NOTHING MA TO LIVE UP TO FOR THEM THEY MUST OBEY AUTHORITY THAT THEY DO NOT RESPECT IN ANY DEGREE WHO DESPISE THEIR JOBS THEIR DESTINY SPEAK JEALOUSY OF THEM THAT ARE FREE DO WHAT THEY DO JUST TO BE NOTHING MORE THAN SOMETHING THEY INVEST IN WHILE SOME ON PRINCIPLES BAPTIZED TO STRICT PARTY PLATFORM TIES SOCAIL CLUBS IN DRAG DISGUISE OUTSIDERS THEY CAN FREELY CRITICIZE TELL NOTHING BUT WHK TO IDOLIZE AND SAY GOD BLESS HIM WHILE ONE WHO SINGS WITH HIS TONGUE ON FIRE GARGLES IN THE RAT RACE CHOIR BENT OUT OF SHAPE FROM SOCIETYS PLIERS CARES NOT TO COME UP ANY HIGHER BUT RATHER GET YOU DOWN IN THE HOLE THAT HES IN BUT I MEAN NO HARM NOR PUT FAULT ON ANYONE THAT LIVES IN A VAULT BUT ITS ALRIGHT MA IF I CAN PLEASE HIM OLD LADY JUDGES WATCH PEOPLE IN PAIRS LIMITED IN SEX THEY DARE TO PUSH FAKE MORAL INSULT AND STARE WHILE MONEY DOESNT TALK IT SWEARS OBSCENITY WHO REALLY CARES PROPAGANDA ALL IS PHONY WHILE THEM THAT DEFEND WHAT THEY CANNOT SEE WITH KILLERS PRIDE SECURITY IT BLOWS THE MIND MOST BITTERLY FOR THEM THAT THINK DEATH’S HONESTY WON’T FALL UPON ‘EM NATURALLY LIFE SOMETIMES MUST GET LONELY MY EYES COLLIDE HEAD ON WITH STUFFED GRAVEYARDS FALSE GOALS I SCUFF AT PETTINESS WHICH PLAYS SO ROUGH WALKED UPSIDE DOWN INSIDE HANDCUFFS KICK MY LEGS TO CRASH IT OFF SAY OKAY I’VE HADE ENOUGH WHAT ELSE CAN YOU SHOW ME AND IF MY THOUGHT DREAMS CAN BE SEEN THEYD PROBABLY PUT MY HEAD IN A GUILLOTINE
BUT ITS ALRIGHT MA IT’S LIFE AND LIFE ONLY
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Provocation and Motivation (Blue Lock)
Ahhh I love this duo so much. I cannot wait for the new Episode Nagi movie. I hope things work out between them in the end after what happened in the anime lol… anyway!!! Hope you guys enjoy this one.
Warnings: This is a tickle fic so if that’s not your thing just keep scrolling. Also some cursing lol.
Summery: When Reo tries to annoy Nagi, in attempt to make him be more reactive instead of lazy, it backfires heavily.
Reo was doing some stretches that night as he got ready to go to sleep. Being in the Blue Lock dormitory was something he’d need to get used to, since he only ever slept in his own bed at home.
At least Nagi was here. Having a familiar face around really helped.
“Hey Nagi come do stretches with me!” Reo called out ti the white haired boy who was laid on his bed, playing video games on his mini hand held system.
“Nah… sounds exhausting~” he mumbled back.
Reo huffed. He wished he would at least put in effort every once in a while. To do something actually productive.
Reo shrugged and went back to his stretching exercises. Suddenly an idea came to him. Maybe he could try provoking the boy somehow?
It wasn’t a terrible idea. Even though he’s known Nagi for quite a bit of time, he didn’t know if he was the type to get mad or upset. Angry even.
“Hey Nagi.. you know, if you keep sitting around like that and eat too much at the same time, you’re going to get all fat.” Reo told him teasingly.
Nagi merely shrugged. “Meh.”
Reo frowned. Well that was all he got. Truth be told he didn’t know what could possibly annoy or rile him up.
His eyes found the gaming devise he was using. It was then an idea came to him.
He snuck over to the side of Nagis bed, making sure Nagi was too absorbed into the game to pay attention.
He waited a moment, then swiftly reached over to grab the devise.
Before Nagi had a chance to react, the devise was plucked out of his hands.
Reo stuck his tongue out at the white haired boy, grinning mischievously as he hid the devise behind his back.
He finally saw a true look of annoyance on Nagis face, as the much quieter of the two slowly started to get up from his resting position.
“Reo! That’s not cool. I’m going to lose!” Nagi complained.
“Should’ve thought about that before you decided to be lazy and annoying.” Reo reasoned playfully.
“So I’m the annoying one here?” Nagi mumbled. He reached out to grab the gaming devise, but Reo, despite being shorter, managed to keep it out of his reach.
They were like this for a bit, Nagi trying to grab the game while Reo cheekily dodged.
Nagi was starting to get seriously irritated now. As he put more effort into grabbing the game, he managed to accidentally land a poke at the purple haired boys rib.
To his surprise, Reo shrieked and fell backwards onto his butt, dropping the game in the process.
Nagi grabbed the device and looked down at the boy who had just fallen. “What was that Reo?” Nagi asked, knowing full well what happened.
“U-uh nothing! I’m fine. I’m sorry for messing with your game.” Reo said quickly, already feeling tingles of anticipation.
“Don’t worry about it. To be honest I’ve lost interest in it for the moment anyway.” Nagi said lazily, throwing it aside onto his bed.
“O-oh.. why’s that?” Reo asked.
Nagi just stared down at him for a moment. “Because I just found a new toy to play with.”
With Nagis choice of words and how he said it, Reos face immediately flooded with color. He watched as the white haired boy walked closer and closer towards him, unable to do much to stop him at the moment.
“Wait.. wait Nagi.. NO!!!” Nagi leapt onto Reo suddenly, and had him pinned to the floor almost immediately.
“Is there anything I can say that would convince you to let me go right now?” Reo asked nervously.
“Nope.” Nagi replied simply.
He then grabbed his sides, squeezing them. Reo sealed his mouth shut. If he was being forced to endure this, he might as well save the last bit of pride he had by not breaking.
Maybe he could convince Nagi that he was mistaken, and that he was wasting his time.
This was not the case however. He broke immediately when Nagi went for his ribs, digging into, and squeezing them.
“A-hAhah!! Nohohohoho Nahahagi!!!” Reo cried, squirming around helplessly as he uselessly attempted to push his arms away.
Unfortunately his strength seemed to have left his body.
“Wow Reo. You really are super ticklish, aren’t you. I can’t believe I’ve known you all this time and you never bothered telling me?”
“Whyhyhy woohohould ihihihi tehehell yohohOhOhoUhuhu!??!!” Reo protested, squealing, much to his embarrassment, when Nagi found a particularly sensitive spot on his ribs right under his armpits.
“Do you have a particularly bad spot Reo? One that’s the worst of them all?” Nagi asked conversationally. Pretending as if he wasn’t currently tickling the purple haired soccer prodigy to pieces.
“LIHihiHinikE iHIhiHid teHEHEhehEll YOHOhohu!!!” Reo cried, still struggling under his teammates weight.
Nagi frowned. “Bummer. Guess I’ll have to find it myself. At least I have confirmation that you have one.”
Reo didn’t expect Nagi to find it so quickly. As soon as he felt squeezing at his hips, he immediately knew he was done for.
“NOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHAHASE NAHAHAHAGIHIHIHI!!!” Reo threw his head back in hysterical crackles, kicking out his legs behind Nagi. Seriously, what did he even do to deserve this?
Nagi ignored him as he poked, prodded, massaged, and even spidered his fingers on his hip bones.
“Wow, this seems to be like a pretty sensitive spot for you.” Nagi commented. It wasn’t even meant to sound like teasing, which made it so much worse as teasing.
When Nagi then pressed his thumbs into the dips of the hip bone, massaging and vibrating them into the spot, Reo full on screeched, bucking his hips to hard he damn near threw Nagi off.
“FUHUHUHUCK NOHOHOHOHOHO!!!”
“Woah! Looks like I hit the jackpot, huh.”
Reos laughter soon turned into silent hysterics, batting weakly at his attackers hands. At this point all he could do was lay limp on the floor and take it. He was also having difficulty breathing.
Nagi picked up on it and knew he should give the poor guy a break.
Reo lay gasping on the floor, struggling to catch his breath as he curled up on the floor, hugging himself protectively.
“Sorry about that Reo… I just really wanted to do that.” Nagi told him apologetically.
“Hah… hehe.. y-yohohu suhuck…” Reo managed.
Nagi stared at his face. His cheeks were flushed, a grin unable to leave his mouth, his chest rapidly rising and falling.
“Heh.”
“Nagi did you just laugh at me?!” Reo bursted out. Eyebrows furrowed with annoyance.
“Sorry. You’re just really cute like this.”
It took a moment for Reo to process what Nagi had just said, a confused expression taking over his face, until his face began to turn a deep shade of red.
“Sh-shut up you jerk!”
Nagi just poked at his side again, which made Reo squeak and fall back again. Yep, truly adorable he was.
Thanks for reading!
#sprite🥤#tickling#tickle fic#blue lock#reo mikage#nagi seishiro#ticklish!reo#lee!reo#ler!nagi#ler!nagiseishiro#sfw tickling community#sfw tickle fluff#sfw tickle blog#blue lock tickling#blue lock tickle fanfic#blue lock reo#blue lock nagi#episode nagi
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The Little White Horse: Theme
Final thoughts, and the themes I found in the book and the movie
TL;DR
The Secret of Moonacre was an absolutely beautiful, whimsical film that taught its viewers the lesson of love and forgiveness, and the value of putting your pride aside for the betterment of the world around you. The Little White Horse is a book hellbent on teaching young girls that curiosity is wrong, and not to ask too many questions. Humbling yourself means lowering yourself to the point where you sacrifice your well-being and future, and that love truly is blind to all those red flags.
Now, clearly my opinion of The Little White Horse is not a good one, but I honestly can’t think of a good lesson that came out of this book. Whatever good Goudge was trying to do, is undermined by all the bad wrapped around those morals.
Sexism, racism, male egotism, and here I really want to compare the movie and the book.
I won’t take too long describing the movie, since I’m sure we’ve all seen it. But the movie begins with a young girl who has just lost her father, and she has already lost her mother. She is a city girl, born and raised in London, she is proper, educated, a tad egotistical, curious, and a prideful, stubborn girl.
On her journey, learning about and falling in love with Moonacre Valley, she learns to put these things aside in order to put Moonacre first. Maria learns to appreciate the Countryside and its beauty, her love for the people around her, not just her Uncle, but the servants of the household who are technically ‘under’ her. She willingly gets dirty, thinks about the good of all over herself, and at the very end of the film, she sacrifices herself to save the entire Valley. By jumping from the edge of the cliff, Maria completes her journey of self discovery, she shows that her love for those around her is stronger than her own need to live.
And, everyone else subsequently puts aside their own pride as concern and fear override stubbornness and they all run to the cliff, too late of course, but they forget themselves for a moment, and choose Maria. When Maria is returned by the Sea Unicorn, the Valley is saved, the natural order of things is restored, and peace can finally come to the two families.
In this moment, we the audience have learned the value of love, forgiveness, and sacrifice, of what it means to value something above yourself.
In other words, this silly little film that has a critic’s score of 23% and an audience score of 46%, does what Elizabeth Goudge could not do.
Giving a story that has good morals.
Despite her attempts, The Little White Horse is bogged down in dated world views. Her definition of love is bowing your head to men, who are abusive and pedophiles, and accepting it. She expects women not to humble themselves, but crawl on the floor in order for there to be peace. She does not teach lessons on equality, on the pursuit of knowledge, or of true humbleness. I hate to repeat myself, but there is hardly any good that comes out of this book, and what little good there is is shrouded by an awful message to young girls specifically, and young boys. An acceptance of abuse, that people can be wholly evil and wicked, that peace is unattainable through communication and understanding, but must be brought on through sacrifice.
The truth of the matter is that love is sacrifice. Love is putting others above yourself, giving and providing, of leading all for the sake of someone else, however love should not be misconstrued so horribly that the only lesson that can be taken away is that you must cut off pieces of yourself to be amendable. While wildly praised, I cannot help but feel as if this book is viewed through rose colored lenses, that the descriptions of delicious food has somehow blocked out our ability to see abuse, grooming, racism, and sexism.
The Secret of Moonacre may not be the most popular movie, but the creative liberties they took were absolutely necessary in order to create a story actually worth showing your children. And hopefully, The Little White Horse, can either fade into obscurity, or be used as an example.
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RAHHGHGHGH . so glad i can finally be fucking insane in the membrane abt dutch without spoilering . i know hes not ur guy from this one but hes such a fucking beast to me i need to put him in the salad spinner and watch him go .
his like subtle manipulation of everyone , particularly arthur, john and molly. oh my god i could talk for england abt molly oshea. dutch's romantic relationships are like a microcosm of how his manipulation and favour with arthur / john plays out over the course of the game . he was originally with susan grimshaw ( rip to the goat ) , then it's heavily implied he did her extremely dirty and ditched her for molly, a aristrocratic but crucially younger and less experienced woman who better embodied his big , grand ideas ( oh motif of dutch surrounding himself by rich lovely things. like his clothes . ostensibly pretty extravagant for an outlaw but when you get closer you see how ripped and frayed they are , representing him clinging onto a lost way of life ). THEN at several points in the game if you explore camp , you can see dutch flirting with karen multiple times !!! karen who is like NINETEEN i think ??
hes such a fucking scumbag . he does not get attached to people in the normal way . he views them as extensions of his pretentious beliefs . he preys on young, vulnerable people with nothing to lose, offering them a home , a family , only to use it against them when they start waking up to the reality. and it hurts so much watching arthur come to this realisation because he loves dutch so goddamn much , he sticks around for wayyyy longer than he should've because he's loyal down to his fucking core .
sidenote sorry for being insane . dutch has my fav speech in the whole game which is his one to milton ... 'ain't no such thing as civilised. it's man so in love with greed, he has forgotten himself and found only appetites ' ohhh dutch ur so silly dont u want to introspect a little . arent u tired of projecting . dont u just wnana go apeshit.
i know a lot about dutchs story through osmosis from beloved lamb and you are SO right that his relationships with women (particular his trading in of women for younger models whenever he so feels like it) is a microcosm of how he manipulates people in the game !!! it always baffles me when i remember that dutch was with grimshaw once upon a time and it feels . so apt to think that it would later be grimshaw to kill her, especially in the midst of the crisis of the gang falling apart.
i LOVEEE the motif of dutchs obsession with luxury - unaffordable luxury. its such a great way to subtly represent his greed that will eventually kill him. not only is it present in his appearance, but its really the most impactful when held up with how hosea dresses himself. hosea is such an important anchor to the gang, and an important part of leveling dutch overall. i really like that element and that hosea dresses primarily in blue while dutch does in red... i love the way the honor system uses color because once you see it you cannot Unsee it and it makes me insane
and i think that obsession with the finer things and also his consistent preying on the young and vulnerable and how he groomed arthur and john into violece is once again.... sooo representative of the fact that dutchs main sin is a deep pride and a sense of arrogance. he DOES believe that all people in the gang are some extension of his bullshit philosphy and he views his love (which i do believe he views as genuine love) as holy and righteous...dutch believes himself to know best. better than anyone, for everything. whether that be in clothes or how to live and act. his prestige is so ... fake... he is SO fake. he has constructed an entire life upon a falsity and false understanding and he's sold it time and time again to recruit members. and he does it so well that it drives the gang to obsess over loyalty and dutchs word as law.
the only thing that was tempering that for so long was hosea. hosea was the voice of reason. hosea was the counter. and when hosea inevitably dies - dutch completely slips and sinks further and further into his unethical tirade. but dutch still has some humanity in him, and everything snaps back to reality when arthur dies in front of him and it is all dutch's fault in some capacity. its the one time in the game where dutch is forced to reflect inward, because he did love arthur. he did. i know he did. and that is precisely why he leaves arthur there alone - because he is then forced to face every single reality all at once when arthur dies like that. and it is so .so .
#return to sender#i have to stop yapping im so sorry about this but god. arthurs love for dutch is so pure and true. theres such true belief in it#dutchs love for arthur is less pure but i do think he did love arthur. he did and thats the worst part to me.#he is a complete scumbag. a selfish and worthless piece of shit with no capacity for being critiqued#but he is so nuanced at the same time. i need to play the game 6 more times.#DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON HIS PROJECTING WHEN HE SPEAKS TO ENEMIES#THE O DRISCOLLS...THE PINKERTONS#i believe so sincerely that the only reason dutch specifically killed angelo bronte was because bronte called him exactly for what he is#and he couldnt STAND that#a.rdr2
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Was just arguing with two different gaylors on tiktok (apologies to the innocent OP whose video this was happening in lmao) but both were making the common argument of “Taylor is out to queer people but not out to the public” and it’s hard to argue in a tiktok comment section so I wanted a chance to put my arguments in one post (and I refuse to put my face on tiktok). Main thesis: this is complete bullshit.
I’m bisexual. I’ve known since I was 14 (now 24) but I didn’t start coming out to people until basically college. (A few friends figured it out but I grew up in a conservative Christian town and wasn’t ready to be open about it yet despite not feeling any shame over it. It was mostly fear. You know, because it’s not super safe to be queer even in America.) Even then, I didn’t explicitly say the words “I’m bisexual” until I was 22. Before that, and still now, I did what is referred to as “flagging”, where you subtly announce yourself to other queer people where non allies can’t see. I wore bi pride colored earrings, most of my decorations were the color of the flag, I had a bi flag colored dress I liked to wear. It announced to queer people around me that I was likely one of them, and made it so other queer people felt comfortable to come out to me, all while slipping under the radar of my non queer peers and especially my family. Because of being so visible about it, I once had a queer coworker ask me if I was bisexual at work. In front of all my coworkers. I was a little freaked out. I admitted I was because I didn’t want to lie, but the whole situation made me very uncomfortable. Instead of being able to be subtly queer to my fellow queers, I was suddenly thrust into the public eye and made to come out more publicly than I was ready for. Luckily, it was a safe space and there were no consequences, but it made me want to be less visibly queer because I no longer felt safe enough to be the stage of out that I was.
For celebrities, this is what it is like. Every. Single. Time. They don’t get to be undercover to the passersby they walk passed on the way to class, or to the customers they serve at the small town McDonalds. They are in the public eye every time they step outside. What queer people see, everyone can now see. Maybe not all of them will understand it, but they certainly will when they log on to their social media of choice and see everyone talking about all the subtle flagging they did. It’s no longer a way to be subtly queer because everyone has access to that information now. Historically, this was something queer celebrities COULD do because they didn’t have as many eyes on them at all times and they certainly didn’t have very public discussions made amongst their fan base. Taylor Swift, one of if not the most public figure in the modern day, doesn’t get that advantage. You can see this with the very EXISTENCE of gaylors. Having queer themes in songs and queer colors at concerts cannot be a way to quietly nod to fellow queer people when those very queer people are TELLING EVERYONE ABOUT IT. So either you have gaylors misunderstanding all the signs because they so desperately want the pretty pop singer to be one of them, or you have a woman who desperately wants to connect with her fellow queers in a way that only they would understand because she doesn’t feel safe or comfortable or just doesn’t fucking want to come out publicly because that is her right, and instead of silently reading those signals and standing in solidarity with her, they are going on a very public social media website and screaming “TAYLOR SWIFT IS A GIANT DYKE WHO HAS GAY SEX WITH ALL HER FRIENDS”. Either way, it doesn’t look good for you.
Now, before you delusional ass motherfuckers come to me with your usual “you’re homophobic and think that being queer is dirty and that’s why you won’t let us speculate about a real person’s sexuality” (made by both gaylors on tiktok despite multiple times telling them otherwise), if Taylor ever comes out as queer, I would support her 113%. I would celebrate! As everyone deserves when they complete the long hard battle of coming out (of which I am still fighting). Because being queer is amazing and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. In fact, I much prefer the company of fellow queers than cishet people. But she has on numerous occasions referred to herself as an ally of the LGBTQ+ community. And maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s a front. I know I call myself an ally to those who I’m not comfortable coming out to. Which is exactly why I will wait until the day that Miss Swift publicly lets people know her sexuality. If she’s bisexual, great! Bisexuals are the best!😉 If she’s a lesbian, I’m proud of her! I love lesbians and I know it must’ve taken a lot to come to terms with that. If she identities as something else, welcome to the community! Every identity is valid. We support all members of our community here. And if she is indeed a cishet woman who is simply an ally, we still love her because we are facing an everlasting battle for our right to live and we need all the support we can get. But never forget that you are not her friend. You are her fan. You may see parts of yourself in her or her music, but you don’t know her. All you know is what she tells you, from her, not her music which has throughout her career been splattered with fiction and stories about others. And all she has said is she’s an ally. And that’s all we need to know. Let’s just love her music and relate to it and cry to it and make our little edits and stick them on every fictional character out there. Because that’s why we are here. For her music, not her sexuality.
#taylor swift#gaylor#gaylors#long post#idk if that actually does anything but I don’t want to put it under a read more cuz I don’t want this scrolled passed#i don’t even want to start a fight here cuz writing this took a lot out of me#but Im so sick of this never ending bullshit#It’s not gonna matter#nothing I say ever actually does anything#but idk#if I can make just a few of them rethink what they’re doing I’ll be satisfied
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Wish I Could Curse You (6)
Series Master list
Kagome trembles in his arms. Her breath hitches and he seizes the opportunity. She has to know she is his. All this time, he has been trying to go at her pace. Slow. Too fucking slow. But not anymore, no he cannot afford to go at her pace. Not with Satoru texting her. Not with that damn half breed sniffing around. And not with that insufferable ex-boyfriend of a monkey thinking he has any rights to entertain getting back with her.
No, they are going at his pace. She'll just have to jog to catch up.
He slides his hands down, grabbing a handful of ass and squeezes. It won't take much to flip her dress up and claim his prize. He wants to fall to his knees, put her leg over his shoulder and pray homage to her.
Suguru breaks the kiss and bites her lower lip, marring the swollen flesh. Every time she touches her lips, she needs to remember it was he who claimed her. She needs to know that no one else can make her feel like this. No one but him.
Perhaps he should brand his name on her ass to remind her she will never escape him. No one is worthy of her but him.
Kagome places her hands on his chest and pushes him back. "Easy. What the hell was that about?" She presses her fingers to her lips and frowns. Her brows furrow together.
"I can't kiss you?" He tilts his head to the side and roves over her figure. He does like the color pink on her, but he's not sure about the length of the dress now. Not with so many monkeys eyeing her and thinking they are worthy of being in her presence.
"It was sudden." She sighs and bends down to retrieve her phone from the floor. Kagome barely glances at him as she texts Satoru, no doubt. Annoying, but at least it isn't a monkey.
"My pride is wounded," he proclaims, placing a hand over his heart. "I kiss you and you go back to texting another man in front of me. What a cold woman you are."
Kagome snorts. "Suguru, we are not together. Stop acting like we are something more than we are."
He grits his teeth, to stop the darkness from seeping out of his heart and showing on his face. Her words cut him to the quick. "Is it because of Hojo?" If she says yes, he'll kill him. If she says no, he'll still kill him, but he'll give Hojo another day to live before he takes his life.
"Hojo?" She shakes her head and laughs as she moves around him. "I'm not holding out for Hojo. Seriously, it's not you. I'm not in the headspace to do a relationship right now." She opens the cabinet and pulls out two packets of tea. "It hasn't been that long since my family was killed. I can't just pick up and act like everything is okay."
Oh, for fuck's sake. She's still grieving her family? Why isn't she over this by now? Is he invisible? Has he not been here for her, giving her support and keeping her from drowning?
Suguru sucks in a breath and molds his face to pristine perfection. "It was hard when I lost my parents as well, but you can't stay in a grieved state. I'd like to believe that your family would want you happy and enjoying life. You know how strong curses can become. Do you want to die with regrets?"
Kagome fills up the teapot and places it on the stove to warm. The domesticity of it is not lost on him, so he wills himself to calm down.
"Or perhaps you want me to give you a warning each time I wish to kiss you." He pulls out a chair and sits, watching her with hooded eyes as she prepares the tea to his liking.
"I appreciate your thoughtful words, but I still need time to process what I'm feeling. You shouldn't get so hung up over me. I may never be ready for what you are wanting." She sets the mug in front of him and takes a seat next to him. "So, no, you don't need to give me any warning because you shouldn't keep kissing me."
His mouth twitches. Her feistiness should be off-putting, but it just makes him want to bend her over and spank her pert ass until it's nice and red. Suguru throws his hands up in mock surrender. "At least let me take you out on a real date before you make your decision to be done with me."
Kagome rolls her eyes. "You know that's not what I said."
"Because," he continues, pretending to not have heard her, "it hurts to know that despite your grief, you were ready to hop into bed with Satoru."
"Because," Kagome stresses, "That was going to be a one-night thing, not a full-on relationship with commitment, and expectations, and everything else that comes with committing to a relationship." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I don't even know why I'm explaining myself."
Suguru leans his body towards her, pushing his cooling tea out of the way. "If it's a fuck you need, I'm right here. I won't ask you for more than what you are willing to give. If I get hurt, then that's on me, not you." He reaches for her hand, intertwining their fingers together.
Indecision flashes across her face. She just needs a little push.
He scoots the chair back and leans forward so his knees brush against her chair. "Did you like the way I kissed you?" he murmurs, moving her hand down so it rests right over his cock. "If it's too intimate, there's always your other lips I can kiss."
Her breath hitches.
She just needs a little more...
Kagome jerks her hand back and lets out a breath. "I'm meeting up with Satoru tomorrow." She stands and dumps their cold tea in the sink. "I'm sorry, Suguru, but I can't go there with you." Her eyes flit to the door and the demand is loud and clear, but he pretends to not read the signs and gets up to make himself something to eat instead.
"Since it doesn't look like we're going out for lunch, I can make something for us here. Any preference?" He reaches in the fridge and pulls out some fish to cook.
"Suguru," Kagome warns. "We don't have to be together all the time. We're exorcising that curse later today."
He pauses. "Am I suffocating you?"
"Yes."
He sucks in a breath and places the knife down on the cutting board. "I've already started on lunch. Let me make this for you and I'll be out of your hair for a bit." His muscles tense. Giving her space is the last thing he wants to do. Every time he does, she disappears for days where he can't find her, and apparently, she hangs out with literal demons.
Kagome wraps her arms around him. Her soft breath on his back is enough to give him ideas.
"I'm not trying to be harsh... and I'm sorry about your parents. It's just I need some time to breathe. Be by myself for a while." She pulls away and his body shivers from the lack of heat. There's nothing but darkness in his world, but one touch from her is enough to bring sunlight into this dreadful world.
He wets his lips and turns so he can look at her fully. Look at the woman who keeps breaking his heart. "The offer still stands," he says with a big smile on his face. Outwardly he's chipper. Not phased. But inwardly, he's a dragon breathing fire.
Kagome shakes her head and chuckles. "Gosh, you really don't give up." Her eyes flint to his lips and then back at his face. "Just call me when lunch is ready."
Suguru blinks. So she isn't immune to him after all. Thank Kami for that. He flexes his fingers right before he picks up the knife. He can give her some space, but how does he stop Satoru from coming around? It would be one thing if Satoru shared his beliefs, but he doesn't and dwelling on that isn't going to help him.
The fish scales glint under the kitchen light. He rolls his shoulders back and goes back to removing the scales. One by one, he'll get rid of all the monkeys in her life. One by one, he'll remove every obstacle until the only one she can depend on is him. And when she's ready to make that leap, to help him usher in a world without non-sorcerers, it will be a day of celebration.
A national holiday.
Yeah, he likes the sound of that.
Satoru rocks on the back of his heels as he wills himself to calm down long enough to knock on the door. He didn't tell Kagome when he would be by, and the sun has long since set. He hopes she hasn't eaten yet. The door opens before he can knock.
"Are you just going to stand out here like a creeper?" Kagome asks, crossing her arms.
Damn, she's wearing pants this time.
"I was going to knock," he quips, "You just beat me to it."
"You've been standing out here for like ten minutes." She rolls her eyes as she slips on her shoes and grabs her purse. "Where are we going?" She closes the door and pauses. "Do I need my bow?"
Bow?
"We're not fighting."
"Oh. I didn't mean us. I just thought maybe we were going to go after some curses."
They should do that. He should investigate what else her power can do, but thoughts of exorcising curses are the furthest thing from his mind.
"Actually, I was hoping we could just get dinner. That's all. Unless you want to join me on a late-night mission." He scratches the back of his head. That mission is a special grade one. He could protect her, but should he really take her with him? She's so damn innocent, she might break.
He's surprised she hasn't broken after her family was murdered, but Suguru may be the reason why she's still treading water.
"Dinner?" Her voice rises. "Is this a date?"
"Do you want it to be?" He matches her pace.
"No."
He frowns. Why does that sting? He shrugs it off. "I just wanna talk. Get to know how your powers work, and I wanted company tonight." The curses today have been an absolute bitch. It feels like someone opened up a bag and dumped out a bunch of curses over the city.
"That's good. I can do an outing with a friend."
"Are you friend-zoning me?" he asks, as he gets the car door for her. Normally he lets Ijichi drive him around, but he needed a break from seeing Ijichi's old ass face. Satoru slides into the driver's seat. Yeah, Kagome's face is so much better.
"It's bad enough I even agreed to hang out with you considering you and Suguru keeping dancing around one another."
"... A minor disagreement?" He chews on his tongue. Suguru must have not told her anything about why they fell out or what the hell he is doing with that cult of his. What he needs is proof. Solid proof to show her that Suguru is not who she thinks he is. But then what?
"Then talk it out," she says as if he and Suguru can resolve their problem so easily with a simple conversation. "Maybe he won't be in my business so much if he has his best friend back."
"I doubt that." Anyone with eyes can see how Suguru looks at her. His fingers tighten on the wheel. "I hope you're in the mood for ramen." He parks the car and wipes his palms on his pants. His palms are sweaty. Strange.
A phone rings. He reaches for his, but the call is coming from Kagome's instead. Her brows pinch together as she answers the call.
"Everything good?"
She sucks in a breath. "No... I'm sorry, I gotta go." She wrings her hands together.
His stomach grumbles, reminding him he hasn't eaten since morning and now would be a fine time to get some substance in him. But something is wrong and he can't go into the ramen shop without her and pretend he doesn't see how shaken up she is. He starts the car and taps his fingers.
"Where to?"
"You don't have to take me, I can—"
"Where to?" he asks again. "We're friends, right? I'm not gonna let a friend get out of my car trembling like that. Where to?"
She lets out a huff and gives him directions. The smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, but it's fine for now. They pull up to an apartment building. Not too bad. Whoever lives here must be doing well for themselves. He gets out of the car and follows her up the stairs.
Kagome looks over her shoulder. "You really don't have to come with me."
It's true, he doesn't, but something urges him to go with her anyway.
"I might be able to help," he says, but it comes out as if he's asking a question. Comforting people was always Suguru's job. He might not know the right words, but he can be present for her.
Kagome presses her lips together and gives him a jerky nod of acceptance. She knocks on the door and an older woman with tear-streaked cheeks answers.
"Oh! Kagome it's awful." The woman pulls Kagome into a hug. "Akitoki is gone!" The woman wails, nearly causing Kagome to stumble with her.
Quietly, Satoru enters the apartment and sniffs. That smell. He knows that cologne. He clenches his fingers. The dead man looks as if he died in his sleep, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
"Who was he?" he asks, bending down next to Kagome. There's a blank expression on her face. The older woman stares at him, but he ignores her for now.
"Ex-boyfriend," she murmurs. "I just saw him the other day, and he didn't look sick." She lets out a breath. "Maybe that's why he was so adamant about getting back together. He must have known."
No, Satoru doesn't need a doctor's license to see that there was nothing wrong with this man. No, this was Suguru and he has no way to prove it.
Damnit.
"He never told me he was sick," Kagome says, standing.
"He never told us either." The woman dabs at her wet cheeks with the back of her sleeve. "Who is this?"
"Gojo Satoru, he's just a friend. Satoru, this is Hojo-san." Kagome wraps around the woman and leads her over to the couch. "Have you called anyone yet?"
"N-no, I could barely get the words out."
"I'll call," Satoru interrupts, more so, so he can get out of the apartment for a bit. He needs air. Needs to tell Kagome that this was no illness. Suguru may have gotten rid of any traces of cursed energy, but his cologne lingers in the air.
It's not like he can just say, "Hey, this is gonna sound really crazy, but Suguru killed your ex-boyfriend. He's been wearing the same cologne for years now. Oh, and by the way, he probably killed your family too."
He closes the door behind him and makes the call, giving Kagome and the older woman, who he assumes must be Hojo's mother, some privacy. When he enters the apartment again, Kagome is still consoling the older woman. Her eyes meet his and he frowns.
He'll have to tell her and hope for the best. If not, then he doubts Suguru will stop here.
No, he knows Suguru and there is no way Suguru will stop until Kagome is isolated. If he had to wager a guess, it's probably the purity of her powers he's after.
Satoru opens his mouth, but Hojo-san stops sniffling to glare at him. He rolls his eyes. Not that Hojo-san can see since his sunglasses are so dark.
"Satoru, I'm going to stay here with Hojo-san until the authorities come. You don't have to stay."
"Akitoki wanted to marry you," Hojo-san wails, "He'd tell me all the time how it was fate. You know there was an Akitoki and Kagome Hojo in our family tree."
Kagome grimaces. It's so fast, most people would miss it, but not Satoru.
"I'll head out for a bit. Kagome, call me when they get here and I'll swing back around to take you home." He ignores Hojo-san's glares. The older woman is acting as if he's the reason her son is dead. He gives one final glance back over his shoulder.
Maybe it's time to put an end to Suguru's schemes. His heart pangs.
Damnit.
#gojo satoru x kagome#gojo x kagome#crossover pairings#jujutsu kaisen x inuyasha#kagome higurashi#inuyasha fanfiction#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo satoru#inuyasha x jujutsu kaisen#getoxkagome#getoxkagomexgojo#geto fanfic
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I live in the UK but remember being 15 and understanding that Alabama banning abortion would be cataclysmic and a blatant infringement of reproductive rights - something men have had the luxury of taking for granted. Today has made me sick to my stomach because maybe some naive part of me didn't really believe a government that prides itself on democracy could treat it's women as second class citizens. How do you deal with all this anger? I feel so helpless I could scream!!!
one of the things that I've learned as I've moved from my teens into my early twenties, not only through my formal education but also from the words and the actions of people much smarter than I am, is that helplessness, especially the helplessness of someone who exists in a body like mine (white, cisgender woman) is an insidious tool of the white patriarchy—something it wields often, and with great success.
when I talk about my disillusionment with this country, I am—for the most part—talking about the power structures under which this country functions. I am talking about the ineffectiveness of the three branches of federal government as they exist today; I am talking about the hierarchy of policing that extends from localities to national organizations; I am talking about the systemic hegemony of white supremacy that has been built into the establishment of the United States since its inception.
what I am not talking about is my disillusionment with its people.
activists, scholars, community leaders of all different marginalized identities (people of color, LGBT+, gender-oppressed, poor and class-suppressed, disabled, incarcerated/formerly incarcerated) have been putting in work to dismantle oppressive systems for centuries. the United States is home to incredible forward-thinkers, to driven and committed organizers, to activists who put their bodies and their freedoms on the line for the betterment of this place and the safety of its most underserved people. Black feminists were at the forefront of the reproductive liberation movement. Indigenous organizers have pioneered environmental activism. the American labor movement has intersected with liberation and social justice causes since it was founded. Trans women of color have led the charge for gay liberation and gender liberation, including the Stonewall riots. the struggle for reproductive rights is intersectional at its core: it cannot exist without racial justice; without freedom of gender expression and identity; without the dismantling of the structures and systems which propagate violence.
the decision to overturn Roe will have its most violent and its most long-lasting effects on this country's most vulnerable populations: on sex workers, on poor women, on women of color, on nonbinary people, on trans men, on disabled people, on incarcerated people. reproductive oppression is not just about legislating birth; it is about population and social control, on propagating white supremacy and white wealthy hegemony in an era when the country's population is, for the first time, less white than anything else. one of the key steps in this is, of course, to make people with proximal power to these systems feel as though they can't do anything—that they're helpless. it is to establish a myth that the only decisions that matter are the ones made in the Supreme Court or in Congress, when in fact, the most important political work is done in grassroots movements, in community centers. by people who will have to live with the top-down decisions.
how will I harness my anger? I'll do what I have to do, what we all have to do: we have to show up for the people who are at risk because of this decision. we have to support local reproductive care centers and protest with the people whose voices need to be heard. we have to be there for our communities in ways that the federal government, that the court, cannot. we have to understand and harness our proximal power (for those of us that have it) to leverage for those who have none. we have to know that feeling helpless discredits and disavows the work that people are doing, that they have been doing. and for the love of god we have to keep fucking fighting.
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Anyway… Continuing with the experiment.
I'm pretty tired now, so I won't start talking like usual.
New history! This time I have opted for one that I wrote in October of last year for a Wattpad contest in which I didn't win, but I received quite a few good comments about it. More than horror, it is dark fantasy, and its protagonist (or antagonist, rather) are characters from inca mythology.
I hope you enjoy it as much as the previous one (as you can see I'm happy with little, haha)!
@iwanttofuckereh69 I already tagged you, don't worry 💛😅
Thank you for reading^^
PS: If you see any errors, as always! Don't be afraid to tell me (after all, I don't speak English)!
They were there to investigate a sinkhole that had appeared near the mines, but that didn't stop the leader from preparing a small party. It was Halloween after all. He had organized it with one of the Asian guides, expecting some enthusiasm from the rest. However, when they returned, most of them gave exhausted smiles and dressed up more out of commitment. Although Dimara, no. As her best friend had warned them, she lived on celebrations. So it was no problem for her to put on the blood-colored dress that Victor had consciously given her and go out dancing.
"Asu mare!". The leader approached her as he took a step toward what looked like a makeshift dance floor. "You are just like Mina".
"Come on, don't talk to me about mines, Vicky!", she snorted as she grabbed his arm. "Let's better move our hips, huh? I like the music you've played".
It was just a random song on her phone, but Dimara always managed to make his feel like a genius. She was grateful that the Sernageomin and the company had recommended her for that job, even though the hole seemed to be a rather problematic case for everyone's safety.
According to her, that hole was abnormal.
"The first time it was thirty-three meters wide and about two hundred feet deep," she informed him a week before the party. "But in today's calculations the diameter has grown to almost four centimeters wide and we cannot find the bottom".
"I see it as normal," he had tried to reassure her. "We are surrounded by mining settlements, the sinkholes are growing".
"It's not that it's not normal," Dimara reflected, almost offended, "but the logical thing is that it wouldn't have changed so much. But it's not there! The fund has gone overnight! Isn't it amazing!?".
She didn't want to bring up the topic while they were both jumping to the rhythm of rock. She had made it clear. However, she had forgotten to ask the others about today's progress. So she gasped like a minnow, searching for the right words that wouldn't spoil the mood, until Dimara diverted his attention from his.
"Wow, who is that?"
There was a man dressed as Van Hellsing resting his ass on one of the tables.
"Does it sound familiar to you?", she insisted.
"No," answered the leader, before smiling. "I guess it's a good costume".
Dimara did not pay attention to him and said:
"He's looking at Ruth".
Her best friend was chatting with one of her fellow geologists, but the attention of the stranger made her lose concentration. He had the darkest eyes either of them had ever seen, and Dimara almost had the feeling that, more than flirting with her, what he intended was to eat her. However, that did not allow him not to let Ruth approach him with a shy smile and, later, she disappeared with him in the bathroom area, while she sent Dimara a look of pride. He thought that if he interfered, Ruth would not stop berating her, knowing that she didn't like arguing with her. Therefore, she ended up sighing simultaneously with the change of song and tried not to digress on how little she recognized that pale hunter.
Dimara didn't see her again until midnight, when she herself went to the toilets and Ruth's disfigured corpse appeared inside one of the individual tents. She gasped, screams of horror stuck in her throat. Her best friend was sitting on the portable toilet, without her nun outfit or her plump hips. In fact, her flesh and fat had disappeared from the thighs up and a kind of demonic, skinless cat was observing her, imposing, from inside her abdomen.
"Keep calm," the kitten meowed as he transformed into a tiny Inca with a dragon face, "or I'll have to shut you up."
As expected, this had the opposite effect on Dimara and the being was forced to modify itself faster than normal. She locked them both in the bathroom, attached to Ruth's body, and there animal metamorphosed into a broad man of medium height who silenced the geologist's screams with a suffocating hug.
"Stop it," he threatened harshly. "Do you understand, Diana Maria? Enough of nonsense. When I catch the pishtaco you can cry whatever you want. But until then I need a calm guide to help me detect it among so many false masks".
Her initial response was to cry, staring blankly at the zipper of the store. Afterwards, she sniffed while she tried not to vomit, and finally nodded; without really knowing why.
As she lifted her chin toward him, she thought she was being hypnotized by his glassy, piercing eyes. She didn't feel less than a rag doll.
"Now guide me," she ordered and ipso facto she left the bathrooms towards her ignorant colleagues, with the being's claws pressing on her shoulders. Would others see it? No one seemed to realize what was happening and he heard the creature's voice incessantly in his head, as if a swarm of flies had settled there inside.
"I'm sorry," she said. "It was my mission to ensure that he did not go out tonight. But that damn hole has given him the perfect opportunity to go out and do his thing for Kai Pacha".
"Why did he…?" Dimara asked him, practically gone. He couldn't find Van Hellsing.
"Who knows. Maybe eat? Maybe cover the scales of the Uku Pacha with your fat and thus earn our forgiveness? He has always been a peculiar guy".
Suddenly, someone whispered an apology to them. A man with a unique beard who brushed his cape with Dimara and made his hair stand on end. He didn't need to take a look at him eye sockets to know who it was, and he chased him through the crowd. Of course, the pishtaco quickly realized this and, almost knowing that his god was also tracking him, he pulled out a kind of knife from his sleeve and savagely cut the throats of several members of the team who were dancing around him. He continued to rip out their flaccid parts in record time; the rest panicked and hindered his captors' mission enough for he to flee down the valley, toward the place where he had come from.
"Run, Diana Maria!" the demon encouraged her as her leader begged her to return to the hill.
Dimara trotted across the broken earth, following the billowing cape the creature wore. How well he had done in not taking off his boots! She was grateful that she hadn't given in to his hedonism, for once, as she tried not to fall into some treacherous hole. Even though it wasn't easy for him to do it with a devil imprisoning his neck.
From one moment to the next, the sinkhole appeared in front of them and Dimara had to brake hard. The pishtaco had disappeared and he decided to look into the hole. Would he have returned to the world of the dead? He couldn't help but compare the darkness of that hole with the murderer's eyes and, almost instantly, he appeared solemnly on the other side of the gap, as if he had come from nowhere. Neither in his hands nor in his mouth was there a trace of what happened that evening. However, he pulled out the gun again; this time to threaten his own life.
Dimara's voice shook when he spoke.
"What have you done?", she asked. Nevertheless, the being didn't even glance at her. He spoke directly to the devil, who had already adopted the corporeal form of a red, hairy dragon that ran over the voluminous body of his guide.
"I still have fat, Supay," said the pishtaco. "We can treat as before".
"You know that evil must exist, but not be the only thing," said the evil one. "The scale always exceeds when you are around. Too many dead children in exchange for your little effort, too many crashed planes because of the fruitlessness of your methods. Recognize, at least, that you only bring misfortunes without teaching,” he laughed, bored. "And because? Because of your nature? Control is what defines the gods. Therefore, until you understand it, you must remain in me".
Then, Supay glided over the sinkhole and, transformed into a gigantic warrior with long fangs, caught the being with a bite and disappeared with him through the hole, without saying goodbye, or thank you, to a Dimara who was as stunned as she was silent.
Afterwards, the geologist was finally on the verge of crying. But the sudden vision of Ruth's soul made her swallow every one of her tears. She was in the same place where pishtaco had just met her end, accompanied by the rest of the lost souls on Halloween. They smiled at him. And they didn't stop doing it even when Dimara saw them rushing towards the same place where his judge and her executioner had gone.
#my writings#writer#writers#writing#gaby asceyndez#spooky season#horror story#my stories#story#dark fantasy#peru#inca mythology#narration#relation#god#gods#supay#pishtaco#evil#the day evil escaped a god
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One day I’ll write a Manakete!Lukas fic on paper instead of just in my head every day, but until then have a these thoughts. I put the more canon-deviant fic outline under the cut, but you all better promise to still read the fic when I get to it lol
Thank you @edam-shame for so many good ideas I never would have put all of this together so well 👀
So back when the gods were living with the other dragons, Lukas was a half sibling to Mila and Duma. The youngest, an ice dragon. All three were close, but Duma and Mila always were just a bit closer. They were banished together, and Lukas stayed behind to try and sway Naga’s sentencing.
Soon after, (for dragons, that is,) degeneration was discovered. Lukas had no hesitation in using a dragonstone and giving up his powers. The very first thing he did was travel to Valentia to warn his siblings. By that point, though, the two wouldn’t hear a word of it. They were so swelled with pride being the gods worshiped here, how could they ever give that up and become a weak human? They were still mad at Lukas for remaining with Naga, and that betrayal colored his request. Though not fully, they had begun degenerating themselves, which affected their decision making when they turned him down. Many human years went by, the two refused to meet with Lukas and treated him with hostility. He lived by the border of both kingdoms in the hope of staying close to both siblings he was quickly losing.
Then, something changed. The pair approached Lukas with a plan. Mila had been taken to Rigel, and the siblings had a fleeting moment of clarity about their condition. They knew it was too late for them now, but they still wanted to save Valentia. They heard about the Deliverance, and wanted Lukas to lend it his strength. If they lost, so be it. But if they won, the dragons could claim they helped save Valentia in their final moments instead of only ruin it.
Lukas agreed, not entirely thrilled with the idea of being so involved in a human war. He joins the Deliverance, surprised by the connections he quickly makes.
No one seems to mind that there’s something a bit… off about him. His emotions don’t quite match the others’, he has trouble engaging in romance the way they do, he has patience that could span years (or hundreds…) while his temper is one to be feared, and he’s always willing to make the tough call without batting an eye.
He decides to keep his true identity a secret. He doesn’t want the humans to think that they only won because of a dragon’s help; he wants to teach them they are strong enough to make it on their own once the gods are gone. He hides his dragonstone, and uses some basic spell to keep his pointed ears/eyes in disguise.
Now, during one of the battles his dragonstone takes the tiniest bit of damage and little by little he starts to show signs of his powers. An icy touch here, strange frost around him there. There are days when his disguise magic is worn down and he isolates himself as best as he can in order to stay hidden.
Since meeting and growing to love the Deliverance, he plans on using his dragon form only in emergencies. Still, he cannot be everywhere at once. If I have the heart to kill off someone in my story, they will be far across the battlefield where Lukas can’t even see until the battle has ended.
As they enter Rigel, things get more dangerous. An emergency does arise near him, and he’s forced to take dragon form to save someone close to him (likely Python or Forsyth). He sustains a dangerous injury, and passes out after the fight.
Coming to, the Deliverance is treating him like a prisoner. He is detained with his dragonstone taken. Some feel bad for it, but all are still frightened of his power. They are suspicious that he kept this secret for so long. They are angry that he let their friend die in that earlier battle. Some think he’s aligned with Duma, blessed with dragon power from him – they think he’s a flat-out traitor meant to sabotage them. Those closest to him don’t know what to think, but they were deeply hurt by the secret regardless. He pleads his case as best he can in pieces, but it’s never enough for them.
Alm plans on hearing Lukas’s whole story and sorting things out in the next few days. He doesn’t get the chance, though. Nuibaba hears word of a half-dragon and, hungry for power to steal as always, she sends her forces to kidnap him. It proves incredibly easy since the Deliverance has already weakened and detained him.
Lukas is saddened, but mostly at peace with his fate. He regrets not fulfilling his promise to his siblings, but is confident in the others’ strength to win the war without him. The Deliverance, on the other hand, explodes in emotion once he’s taken.They go to rescue him (some because they care, the more suspicious go just to stop Nuibaba’s plans).
Cue dramatic rescue scene, and the others understanding he really did care about them. Seeing Nuibaba mistreat him only reminds them further how much they care about him.
Reunited, Lukas can unleash more of his power without fear. He tries to avoid using full dragon form for the same reason, but uses ice magic freely on the battlefield: columns of defensive ice, icy breath, strong and sturdy things.
When the Deliverance comes across Witch Celica, Mila is already too far gone to save her. Alm thinks he’s lost her, killed her. Instead, it’s Lukas who comes to her aid. He resurrects her with an immense amount of power. It would have been easy for a full dragon, but he ends up sacrificing all his ancient power to do it, and is fully human now. (Is this how manaketes work? Who cares, it’s how it works now)
Lukas takes a moment to himself to mourn Mila’s loss. It’s the time the group has ever seen him show such emotion. Then he stands, ready to face his brother.
His final map quote is now a little more potent, as this is his first moments being mortal. Before Alm and Celica finish off Duma, Lukas manages some combination of goodbye/apology/forgiveness/assurance that Valentia is in good hands.
After everything, Lukas isn’t sure what he’ll do with the rest of his human life, but Python and Forsyth ensure he never lacks companionship and all that :)
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sage, nutmeg, and taro?
hi sunnyyY!!!
sage -> what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?
oh boy oh boy... for me it's always music or paintings! music is always emotionally moving but every once in a while there will be a melody that just. Floors me. but also... certain paintings make my chest hurt with how they make me feel. the fun part of going to museums is seeing beautiful things and enjoying the stay but then... every once in a while you'll see a painting that just Hits. i have a few ive taken photos of over the years, but also literally nothing compares to seeing them in person. it's that feeling i get staring at the canvas that completely overwhelms me i wish i could capture it. i remember in the dreamer trilogy declan is looking at a blank gray painting and says something like "it just makes me want to goddamn cry" and he's so real for that i feel it every day. here are a few! i wish i remembered their titles or artists,,,
this one is the most tender depiction of queer love i've ever seen. the faces, the colors, the brush strokes and the way it fades off into abstraction... there's so much love in this painting i could cry
this one is by the same artist as the first! genuinely i got lost in this painting. i wish photos could capture it but this took up a whole wall and i couldn't stop looking at it. the colors, the detail on the faces and the abstraction everywhere else, the movement... had i not been with someone on this museum trip i could've sat looking at this painting all day.
now, this one... this one left me overcome with a feeling i genuinely cannot find the words to describe. i just can't quite put my finger on it, but it overwhelmed me with something . my chest hurt looking at it. the title of this painting was "painting for my dad" and the title and the black void of the painting were already so touching for me but someone had left a bouquet by it who knows how long ago, and all of that combined just Floored me
i don't really know what it is about this one - it's just bizarre and there are just these flat colors and these vertical trees and spindly lines that make me feel Something. idk. i just remember i couldn't stop staring at it
god i wish my phone camera could capture the beauty of oil paints - you can see how gorgeous this work is but you can't truly experience its beauty because it looked like she was glowing. her eyes had this luscious sparkle to them, and something about the painting had me transfixed. i walked around the rest of the museum with my family and i ended up wandering back to her on my own because i just could not stop looking at her. i fell in love with this painting and the woman in it for those few hours
r. c. gorman's works always make me feel a certain sort of way. the flatness and the abstract planes of the desert and the beautiful colors always create such a specific vibe and atmosphere that leaves me breathless
okay wow i went on a tangent! back to the actual questions lol
nutmeg -> how’s your room/home decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on?
oooh!! ok so my room is quite a mess because i shared it for ages so there is way too much furniture and stuff in there and none of it matches or is cohesive. HOWEVER i do have one little section that is my absolute pride and joy. i have this old antique wooden dresser with this dark wood and this attached scuffed old mirror that's just gorgeous . i love it so much. i covered it with a little lace doily thing and an assorted collection of rocks i've picked up from rivers and beaches. there's a salt lamp on it, too, and a whole bunch of candles. i also have an adjacent section of wall i've decorated with post cards from art museums, so there are little art pieces next to it :3 while the rest of my room is not really that cute and doesn't share this theme, i do have a style that's very antique inspired
taro -> if someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about?
oooooh! i would probably tell them about how i've picked up guitar lately, how i'm learning a few adrianne lenker songs and i've learned the bug collector. i'd probably also talk about how i've gotten back into rp and i've been writing and brainrotting with friends. or my incoming academic stress, lol
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A letter from a queer daughter to her mom
I love you
I know you love me
You held me in your arms tight, before they rushed me off to the NICU, without even a name picked out for me yet. You were so sick after I was born, and so was Dad, and so was I. What a trio were we!
And yet, after all the APGAR score scares and the feeding worries and the bouts of preeclampsia and flu, we made it. Your little daughter, your first child and only little girl, named after both of your grandmothers. Here I am, all grown up, and queer.
Dear Mom, I know you don’t get why queer people are queer, or choose to be out, and marry, and transition, and everything else queer people do. It’s not something you’re really meant to get. It’s not about you. But I know that’s not a satisfactory answer. It wasn’t for me for a long time. I know you don’t know all the right words to say, or the right pronouns to use, or the right phrases to stick to. I get it. I wish I could make it easier for you to keep track of everything; heaven knows how much has changed since you were born.
You didn’t understand why I felt like I was running out of grace, or having to tiptoe between being queer and being your daughter. You promised that you’d love me and treat me well no matter what, and I believe you. I promise that I know you love me.
I don’t know if you’d love my best friends, if you knew. I don’t know you’d take me seriously if I told you that the “boy” who wanted to date me in high school was actually a girl, or if you’d write her off as being too mentally ill to really know. I don’t know if you’d be excited for me to visit my internet friends if you knew they were getting married, as two non-binary people, instead of moving to a new country. It feels like every queer person you can think of has some extenuating circumstance or excuse to make you wonder if they’re really queer, or just traumatized, which doesn’t really comfort your daughter, diagnosed autistic and wondering if you blame my sexuality on my disability. Not, to be fair, that you’ve said anything to that effect.
There is a whole part of my life that I just cannot share with you. How am I supposed to tell the person who spent an hour raging about trans people “forcing new grammar on people” that I’m happiest in my own body when I look visibly queer? That I want to be seen, not just as a girl, but a queer girl? That, if you didn’t FaceTime every week, I’d hang a pride flag in my room next to my crucifix and rosary?
I dyed my hair and bought “unprofessional” skirts and got a button up with whales on it. I started doing my hair more and putting in hairbows and dressing up for no reason. I put pins with colorful beads on my lanyard. You see the clothes and the hair bows and the shoes and think “finally, she’s taking an interest in her clothing after twenty years”. I see the way my rainbow-pin-wearing classmates clock me and drop the tension in their shoulders.
You have told me since I was little that God blessed me with a big heart. For a while, I wrestled with that, because I was naïve and gullible and too emotional for everything. It’s hard to make peace with, some days, that trusting people wholeheartedly sometimes means being led astray or hurt. But you encouraged me to surround myself with good Christian people, people with kindness and compassion, people who loved openly and gave generously without counting the cost. I have found them! I’ve found the people I want to grow up to become, people who love openly and warmly and reflect God’s love to others. And they are very often queer.
It keeps ending up that way, funnily enough. The people who seem to most embody God’s love keep ending up queer, or very supportive of queer people. And I think I understand why; the longer I held vinegar in my mouth, dripping hatred and condescension for queer people, the harder it became to love without some measure of distrust and fear, because what if they were gay? Or trans? Or something else I didn’t understand? I spent so long not knowing my own sexuality because I flatly refused to acknowledge it, even when my friends point-blank asked. I spent even longer terrified of how you reacted when I told you. My brother outed me. I’m lucky I’m the palatable flavor of queer for you, so you could encourage me to be a nun instead of trying to keep me from kissing girls or wearing boy’s clothes.
It doesn’t matter if you don’t know what to do all the time. It matters that you care. It matters that you try. Queer people are not your enemy. They’re my people. Not some nebulous “them” with an agenda; but my community, my friends, and me. What you say about the most baffling and unpalatable queer person you can think of, in the privacy of your car ride home, you say about the comprehensible, palatable queer daughter in that car.
I want to be able to tell you about my friends, my classmates, even my favorite DND podcasts. I want to be able to tell you about how cis people can get gender euphoria after all, and that when I looked in the mirror that first time with my blue hair and my new skirt, I got it. I want to be able to tell you that I’m finally going to participate in a wedding as the maid of honor, and not just the flower girl.
I wish I could rejoice with you and show you the Side A churches in our city, and have you come to Mass with me there one time. One day, when we’re both older, I hope we still can. There is so much joy to be had in being an openly queer child of God.
Please come home with me. I want you in my life.
Sincerely,
Your queer daughter, who loves you very much
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EN(F) — Extraverted Intution supported by Feeling
Alert to all the possibilities, operates by creative impulse and chaotic energy. Hates routine and develops insights amounting to wisdom and the power to inspire others. Worry and happiness, sharp swings of mood, reacts to life more boisterously than others. Delight from joy, despair from sorrow, "from passionate cries of joy - to extreme anguish". Subtle altruistic motivations. Attachment to family, friends, joy for them. Sudden enthusiastic urges. Love of nature, art, music, interest in sports. Spiritual experiences, the search for a worldview, extreme impressionability and suggestibility. Pity, compassion for unfortunate people and for sick animals. Artistic nature: artists. poets. pride and courage not without exaggeration. Representatives of this type are usually the most lively and individualistic people of all. Their way of thinking is non-trivial and unusual, "alien". Representatives of this type typically seem charming, warm, and considerate. They are friends with different kinds of people, and their friends like them for their insightful understanding of people's problems and peculiarities. If you have come across a person capable of keeping in good relations with their former wives. husbands, and colleagues, it is mostly likely to be this type. The drawback is their inability to do any tasks or work that requires attention to detail, meticulousness, accurate planning and scheduling, and any type of "sedentary" work. Representatives of this type may not turn in their graduation papers, quarterly accounting reports, and other important documentation for a long time. This is the type of person most prone to accept multiple projects and new initiatives, accepting so much tasks that they end up having too many things to do - and then they can't do a single project they envisioned. His openness and friendliness can sometimes play bad tricks on them. Though, sometimes he can show indomitable will and determination to reach goals, later he may regret the harsh words he has said and the actions he committed and seek reconciliation. Polite, cheery, sensible, emotive, friendly, innocent, "childlike". Feeling of harmony and integrity of the world prevails here. A wide variety of events may be perceived as normal: even very tough life's circumstances could be perceived as some kind of working environment, he takes it easy, does not panic. The principle of existence: "The world around me is in harmony. therefore I exist.". Might get compulsively intrigued and interested, "lovesick", towards things that attracted his imagination; hyperactive, ignores space and falls in love with an idea, he seeks to idealize and perceive the external reality with rose-colored glasses. Harmony and peace of mind, meaningful existence. Easily distracted by alternatives.
The integrity of the internal situation is the most rigidly ignored value. This means that this type has no such thing as an "inner core", ideology, character. He does not know how to dive into himself. meditate. find inner peace on their own. He will often idealize the existing world all the people in it - always "good". This is what it replaces finding inner harmony. He ignores his inner world, it is an unknown territory for him. This type is likely to imitate states and feelings that should be there as far as he knows; he will make attempts to analyze his state and mood. If he cannot manage his mood, he puts up with it as with an inevitable evil which cannot be fought. "I hate the negative feelings and I want to escape any sadness", "I will make the whole world happy and I will invade everyone with positive emotions, I just want to inspire!". Defensively take refuge in na excessively upbeat belief of optimism, an expansive happy mood that hides uncomfortable sentiments. When they feel pain, and deeply, when they can't avoid the negative, some manifestations may have a masochistic urge to indulge into the sentimentality When unhappy, he can be childish and not let others be happy. Passive-aggressive. Tsunderes; they won't talk about their issues, in order to keep the harmony, but they won't be anymore fun. Quickly gets up in spirits, even if it may not be genuine. Selfish. Bright and talkative. Always relying upon his talent for immediate improvisation instead of preparing the work in advance. He loves situations when new and exciting undertakings come u. when it is bossible to demonstrate his own and others' talents: when one can still expect the most unusual development of events. His speech is often romantic, his smiles are enticing, but very often that's as far as it goes. His motto is 'emotional power over all and sexual freedom from all'. "Modest". As a rule, he is not ambitious, because he can enjoy the circle of his friends and the anticipation of something interesting. His mood determines everything: plans for the future, self-estimation, and ideas about the world. Ambitious plans can change to disappointment and sadness: but interesting news, praise, or an unexpected interesting opportunity immediately lifts his spirits. Boredom can even make him ill. The greatest pleasure for him is to find a way out from the situation that others consider hopeless. He is capable of demonstrating friendliness and benevolence to all.
"If I feel like it - then I will fall in love. if I don't feel like it - then I will fall out of love. and later I will love some more." His feelings of love are never sure and stable. Today he loves you; tomorrow will speak for itself. People of this type have no idea about commitment as far as their feelings and emotions are concerned, they sway in their emotions between love and hate, they see a wide spectrum of shades in-between. At the same time if they hate you it is not final, as it is with some other types who make up their mind once and for good. "Nothing is eternal under the moon: today I love, leave tomorrow for tomorrow". "Hey, man, are you stupid or what!" he says by the way. He is joking, teasing. External relations for them - something not very much and not always associated with internal. For example, being married, often can easily meet someone else, not seeing it as something bad. barely appearing in some companies may begin to pretend to be treated the same as all the rest of its members. Often this behavior may irritate people. In certain situations, it is still in compliance with any rules of external relations, but all of these cases - rare and strictly prescribed. For example - a funeral is not fun, it may be in relation to the employer must be some scope permitted behavior, or it may even be similar cases it was his understanding of these standards. In all other cases it is simply grossly ignored. If all go on holiday to have fun - you can create a scandal, and when all upset - you can start to behave provocatively. These people look good on a stage playing a guitar or something like that. As a rule, they live to become their ideal. They simplify the logic of the real world and idealize it. Quite often they expect their partners to comply with their abstract ideal. Has a hard time finding a partner because real partners do not meet their ideal standards. The person close by cannot be ideal by definition. He is always on the quest for his ideal object of love, unless he chooses to idealize an existing person. Always ready to argue, asserting his ideals, his worldview until they prove to everyone that they are right. These people often adhere to a school or a doctrine. Having accepted a picture of the world, they advocate and actively popularize the adopted doctrine. People of this type try to structure and line up the information of the objective world as much as possible. That is an attempt to build an ideal description of the world, which does not leave any place for transcendental notions, i.e. something inexpressible in terms of their worldview. They allow for the unknown, but the unsearchable has no right to exist. Struggles with figuring out who they really are. Reactive, most decisions are based on other people. Prone to mysticism, false memories and fantastic, "religious" voices.
This type usually has the fear of a complete form, fear of an action. A fence he is building has been under construction for ten years, but the last nail may never be hammered in; he has been writing his thesis for fifteen years, but it is still unfinished because it is 'imperfect' - still more studying needs to be done, some cross-checking is needed... etc. He frequently lives in the world of the unfinished forms, imperfect objects; and he is constantly struggling with this imperfection. To get a result from him it is necessary to put strict deadline. Otherwise the work will be procrastinated indefinitely, he will continue to alter, add, and improve things... But there is no limit to perfection! This trait should be taken into account in a working environment. Knowing this trait, he often seeks a job where work deadlines are stipulated 'by default'. This could be, for example, teaching. "A good place is the place where I have good sensations, where I feel good.". A pat on the shoulder, a good meal - and he is all yours, this is his idea of a perfect world, he feels great where these conditions are met, he is in trance. Give him some more of the same treatment - and he falls asleep, goes into a deeper trance. People of this type are especially suggestible through sensations. It is enough to say a word about somebody's health, and he gets self-conscious, thinking about his health he may get carried away. They tend to apply everything they hear to themselves, information may not even be related to them but they immediately think about their own center of the universe. People of this type are rather hypochondriac. He wishes to adjust the environment to make himself as comfortable as he can, squeezing all the available comfort out of a space. Expects someone to maximize comfort and health. Always moving in the direction of places where there is physical comfort, exquisite sensory pleasure and are not able to deny yourself this. Where it is physically comfortable there and well, even if it is very expensive. Love gourmet food, massage, stroking. Finding one place where they feel comfortable, for example, restaurant some - can go there for dinner across town. Avoid places where there is all of necessary physical facilities. Gourmets around, slaves to their preferences and habits. If you like sweet, then will eat it pounds. Often determine the state of health from the words of others, because it is very suggestible on it. Sometimes it may be trying to recreate elements of the home where they feel as comfortable as physically. Quickly get used "to the good" and this becomes their weakness in the future, without it they can not. Suggestibility authorities with respect to health issues, if to tell him that he has something to be treated, it is easy to believe it can. In this context, it can become easy prey for "paid doctors." They may forget to eat on time, take medications to sleep, so it is in need of a caring parent, friend or special one.
#personality theory#personality types#typology#cognitive functions#jung#jungian typology#en#ne#en(f)#enfp
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Mi amor, @alycas
I never in my wildest dreams imagined that one day I would be congratulating the love of my life for giving birth to our baby. The way I feel about you transcends pride, it might even transcend love.
As I sit here watching the two of you sleep, I am overwhelmed with a sense of awe and reverence. You have brought a new life into this world, a little bundle of joy who is now a part of us forever. I cannot express how grateful I am to have you as my partner. You have shown me what it means to love unconditionally, to support and encourage, and to be patient and kind. You have been my rock through thick and thin, and now you have given me the most precious gift of all. I promise to always cherish and protect our family, to be there for you and our child every step of the way. I promise to be the best father I can be, to be patient, kind, and loving, and to always put our family first.
Together, we will create a beautiful life filled with love, laughter, and endless adventures. I know that we also have a lot of challenges ahead of us, but I have no doubt that we will overcome them together. We will make mistakes and we will learn from them, but most importantly, we will grow stronger as a family. The future holds so much promise. I eagerly anticipate watching our child flourish, exploring new destinations, and embracing life's ups and downs. I want you to know that I will always be here for you, to support you and to love you through everything. I will be your partner in every sense of the word.
Thank you for being the love of my life, my best friend, and now the mother of our child. I am honored to share this journey with you. I love you more than words can express.
With everything I have
and so much more
Pedro
Pumpkin ring box containing 18k gold ring and seven gemstones, each with their own meaning:
Central stone: Pink Spinel - offers support during recovery after illness or trauma. Protective, grounding and centering stone. It will keep you stable even in times of feeling intense emotions. It is also a love stone, and represents great passion and devotion. The colors of the spinel align with the Chakras and pink is associated with the heart chakra which is associated with love, emotional balance and compassion.
Accent stones: Moss agate - encourages tranquility, security, and embracing new beginnings. Anti-inflamatory.
Diamonds - representing the engagement/wedding rings he will give her one day.
#( reírse con otro es el mayor síntoma de amor ; pedro & alycia )#alycas#( as soon as i saw you i knew a grand adventure was about to happen ; verónica leona )
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CHAPTER ONE - SHIRO MAE
SHIRO
As I walk passing through the back door of our household my mom insists I give one of my graduation pictures to my dad. She left us by pardoning herself that she had got to cook dinner. As I continue to walk in our backyard I sight my dad doing something on our broken air conditioner. I took a deep sigh holding the pocket-size picture that I'm about to give to him and I suddenly felt like I was trembling but I didn't know why.
"Dad," I shyly mumbled to him before he turns his head up, and there was a sudden luminous glaze upon him that makes me feel like I'm floating in. It's already 5 o'clock in the afternoon and the evening seems approaching but his smile will always be the brightest and sweetest smile I have ever seen.
I am constantly asking myself these questions: How come a person used to be so optimistic and gentle? And how come a person like him is my father?
"Congrats my dearest daughter" He gleefully tells me in a calm manner. He removes his working gloves and pats my head very gently. I smiled back at him then I took a deep sigh and finally lent my picture.
"Wow! You are so pretty! Just like your mom" He exclaimed with exaggerated movement while looking at my picture.
"Thanks, Dad but I'm really sorry I didn't make it... I mean to be a part of the flying colors--sorry to disappoint you and mom." I said after I murmured my last word.
"It's fine who told you that we were disappointed? We cannot explain how happy we are because of you. The fact you are finally graduating from Elementary School is a great success and pride to us." He smiled once again and I nodded.
"Those medallions are just bonuses. They were actually useless in real life!" He jokingly said with his awkward laugh.
"Hey you two, come inside and help me. Dinners coming" Mom said with her raised voice.
"Yes, we're coming!" Dad responds to her.
We are about to walk on our way home but dad stops, "Oh anyway!" He delightedly said and ran towards his toolbox on the working table. He grabs a fancy package and comes again to where I'm standing.
"Here." He calmly said with a smile on his face.
I am thrilled to open it, I giggled as he gave it to me, and as I opened the present; I saw pastel blue-green hue headphones.
"Wow! I was looking for this headset yesterday at the mall! How come you knew about it, dad?" I excitedly told him.
"Hmm... Just guts!" Dad told me while he gleams and looks at me happily. With the excitement I exhibited to him earlier, I abruptly become awkward for I am not usually that sweet even to my parents. I heard him chuckle and he finally talked.
"Shall we try it on your phone dear?"
"Uhm," I responded. I grab my phone and he assists me to operate it. He places the headset on my ears. I look at him again and see as he shines and it makes it hard for me to glimpse him. I gradually close my eyes and the music starts to play.
As I opened my eyes hastily, I was shocked by my surroundings becoming gray and dreary. I quickly turn my eyes and look where I am. A sudden realization twitched my consciousness as I heard my alarm clock—I am just inside my room and I am dreaming vividly that dream again almost a thousand times. Did I consider it a dream? It is more like a memory. And through all the good and bad memories I had, that memory seems to be a notable one as that simple conversation always appears in my dreams almost every day.
"Hey, Shiro breakfast is ready. Get to turn yourself up and be prepared for school." Mom said with her forceful voice.
"Uhm, I'm getting up" I mumbled while pulling out my blanket and mending it before I stood up. After I took my breakfast and prepared myself to leave, I reached out again to my room and organized my stuff. I put on a bit of makeup and glanced in the mirror. A girl that has a pinkish pale face with a pouty dead rose-colored lip, almond-shaped dark eyes with a mole under it near on cheekbones, and short black hair with sided bangs shows on my reflection.
I crack a little smile and try not to fake it. But in the aftermath, I think It was just too shallow to do it behind these four sides of my room. Because, in the innermost depth of my heart, I know that sadness and frustration are still lurking and seem to make my soul darker and darker. However, I know to myself that—this feeling will never set me my precedence to stop me from doing things I wanted to.
[Beep] My dazed stopped as I heard my phone buzzing several times. I quickly fetch it and catch a glimpse of Lynx calling me. I stand up but never answer his call because I know he's already outside of my home.
"Mom I'm going!" I shouted as loud as possible so my mom would hear me from the kitchen. I never waited for her response and instantly opened the door, running towards the gate to open it, as I also settled my bag pack at the same time.
"Still not answering my calls ha?" Suddenly my best friend Lynx speaks up with his arrogant voice as I'm busy latching the gate to lock it again properly.
"You have known me for almost 5 years and you still didn't know I-HATE-CALLS?"
I finally turn myself into a tall, with fair skin, straight undercut jet-black hair guy as I annoyingly emphasize the last words I let out.
"You have known me for almost 5 years blah blah blah!" he said as he tried hard to mimic what I have said.
"Shut up ugly!" I told him before I shove his bike he is riding using my feet and that makes him almost fall over.
"Stubborn!" He said it while snapping a smile on his face. Some girls are very delighted by their so-called, refreshing eye smile he always perpetrates when he deceives girls. What a pain—he just looks like a sleeping guy while smiling for me. Girls are sometimes hard to comprehend when it comes to a guy they like.
"Let's go!" He happily said with his manly raspy voice while I'm at the back of his bike and he drives it faster than he could. As we went down and placed his bike we decided to enter our University. I lift my ID so my bar code will get detected and I get surprised when Lynx is getting his ID on his bag.
"Whoa, I thought that was lost?" I rashly told him.
[Beep] "I went here yesterday and used my charm to Student Affairs. Eventually, I got it that smoothly without any effort." He boastfully explained whereas he nudged my shoulders at the same.
"Charm? Eww," I rolled my eyes while I mumbled those words. We continue to amble our feet as we have our first subject which is the Steno and our professor will be our Dean Gabuat and she's also referring to it as Ma'am G.
"Arghh Second-year seems so Harsh, we got Steno this morning with Ma'am G. and Research before lunch" Lynx complained while sulking in disbelief about the subjects we are going to take this sem.
"You are good at Steno the last sem you know. Unfortunately, not as much as I am."I boastfully told him and tap his bag aggressively because of what I did, some first years mostly female peeps are looking at us but this idiot seems no idea about being popular in our University.
"I envy you for having an Office Administrator graduate mom. He said while we continue walking inside the room. I never had a chance to respond to him as Dean Gabuat came even though the first class is not yet starting.
"I have to apologize to class 2-1 for some errors about your schedule." She calmly tells the class.
"My schedule for your class will be before lunch. On the other hand, your Research will be right now."
After Ma'am G said it, the class suddenly uproar a bit. Some of them are happy and some of them are not. Well, I think that's me and I don't know why I don't have a nice feeling about these switched subjects.
"Professor Kim Younghyun will be your Research this semester, and I hope you'll also welcome him for he is new to Cháo Yáng University." She snaps a smile as she continues to speak.
"Anyway, BSOA and BSBA 2-3 are merging for this subject. That's why I'm warning you to act professionally towards Mr. Kim for he is a Business Administration graduate, maybe he looks younger than you expect..." she continued.
"Yeah, that's why his name is Younghyun for he is obviously YOUNG right now maybe Oldhyun next year or so," Lynx whispered his non-sense jokes to me to the fact that Ma'am G is still talking.
"Ha-ha-ha shut up ugly," I said without looking at him and he chuckles a bit and finally focuses on our professor.
After the discussion, we had a chance to meet Mr. Younghyun who is unexpectedly that young to be a professor. His aspect might scout him as an actor if there's a chance or so. He gave that actor vibe with tall, fair skin, intimidating narrow or fox eyes as well as broad shoulders, and neat straight black hair. Obviously, at the moment, some female students are annoyingly chuckling around.
"Ohhh, our professor gives me goosebumps like the first day I met you!" Lynx murmured.
"What the hell do you mean?" I told him with a sinister gleam.
"Nothing, nothing," He said after he widens his eyes forcefully.
"Oh gosh is that Asher Ning? She's our classmate!" A sudden commotion suddenly comes up after my fella classmate exclaimed.
"Sorry Professor Younghyun I'm late," the girl said with a kinda captivating expression to make all the boys except Lynx giggle like insane squealers.
"It's fine we're not yet starting. Hope you'll never do that anymore in my class." Mr. Younghyun coldly asserted without looking at her while turning up his specs whereas he only focused on his laptop connecting to the projector.
"Thanks, Sir." She insisted while she gently flipped her red bright hair as she stepped towards her chair. The class won't stop gossiping about our merged classmate who undeniably stands out for her fancy eye makeup making her Asian almond eye a bit bolder, her pouty red ombré lips with a glossy texture that makes her lips glower as well as her dazzling fair skin.
"How come she will never stand out with that hair? Looks stupid." Lynx said before he sneered as he said something to her.
"I feel like I'm in the wrong building because of BSBA. Almost all of them look like they are from the Model department." I told him while twirling my pen to my fingers.
To make this time quick, Mr. Younghyun talks over certainly everything about the subject we are going to put up with. We have groupings for this Research and we are going to propose our title tomorrow. The group I have has two from Office Administration and three from Business Administration. Luckily, Lynx and I are in the same group.
"Hi everyone!" The prominent girl named Asher cheered at us with her two girl classmates behind her. As we place our chairs circular, I get surprised for the reason Asher is seated beside me with her strangely intriguing smile for me.
"Hi, Shiro! Your name is so cute just like you!" She confessed to me and giggled like a kid at the same time.
"Thanks." I coldly respond in shock and glared at Lynx with his lonesome expression.
"So now who's the Leader and Secretary?" Lynx suddenly interrupted Asher's odd behavior.
"We are appointing Ash as Secretary," Our two groupmates declared while pointing to Asher.
"Oh hey why me?" She said in her high-pitched voice.
"You are the Secretary of Student Affairs so we are confident you will do your job that easily." They rationalized to her while looking at her like they forcibly convinced her to say yes.
"Oh... Yeah sure." She spoke up while stuttering.
Lynx frowned as he is inquisitive towards her and said why he never saw her at council yesterday, for he was there to get his ID. Asher just strangely answers him that she had her magazine shot for understandably, her hair is color red right now.
"Ahh... okay," Lynx coldly said to her.
"So who's the Leader? Shiro?" Asher tells us with enthusiasm.
"Okay." I said to her, "...but make sure to do your responsibilities right." I said with an authoritarian tone.
"Y-Yes I will!" she nervously told me.
From there on, we brainstorm everything for the Research titles we are going to propose tomorrow. Like Mr. Younghyun said, the research title must be persuading, encouraging, and related to a charity that also talks about Business. After we decided on the title we will present, we chose three titles among our suggestions.
First, A correlation study between the profitable dog breeding industry and animal welfare; Research on organic food produce and sustainable market consumption, and lastly, An evaluation of the effects of the underground market on LGU revenue.
"I wrote each explanation about our topic. Now Asher it is all to you for the presentation and makes sure to keep the written report I made. Don't lose it, I don't have my laptop since It was broken, I hope we can keep in touch with you." I formally announced.
"Yes, I will! No worries Shiro!" She gleefully told us.
As time passed by I finally, get home safely. My foot almost got numb strolling Chào Yang University just for different classes but even though I am extremely exhausted, I sort everything about our Research using my phone. I really hate being useless, for my laptop is unsteady and I don't have enough money to purchase it. Being a scholar in an elite university sucks most of the time.
Meanwhile, I accumulate my agendas and told my groupmates to come as early as one hour or so before the class as soon as possible tomorrow. After that, I cannot help myself but sleep.
As the moment I shut my eyes, I heard the door creaking and it was sound so creepy along with its sinister smile I've seen from unknown until he's about to open his mouth and shouted:
"HEY IDIOT WAKE UP!"
[Beep] I quickly open my eyes as I heard the alarm starting to rattle my heart like crazy. I never realized that it was morning already. I was not able to remember my dream or maybe a nightmare for the only aspect I recall is some bratty voice dude called me an idiot. If ever that came about in the future I'll make sure to tear his face instantly. CYU has a lot of brat problematic kids but no one lures me at least once. Coward brats.
"Hey you look grumpy as hell to start a day, don't be a jinx!" My best friend told me in a sarcastic voice.
"I bet Jinx and Lynx are alike," I irritably told while we were walking down the aisle of the Main Zhong Building.
"Are you worried about the presentation?" He spoke up.
"Not really but I don't have any motivation to cheer up or so today. Dunno why," He raised his eyebrows and looked away again.
"That is not the Shiro I knew every time we have this kind of stuff. Common man what's wrong with—"
"I-I'm sorry, I think it's lost!" Suddenly a girl freakishly cried to make Lynx and I stop talking. And as we go through we sight our members frowning at Asher while she is looking for something in her bag.
"Hey what happened? Seriously, It's 7 in the morning for you to cry out like that." Lynx told Asher and she nervously faced us with tears.
"I-I'm really sorry, Shiro, Lynx, Kate, and Lean. I really don't know why It's not on the laptop, It was unexpectedly formatted and I never save it on the flash drive, I-I even lost the written report that Shiro made for us yesterday. I'm sorry!" Asher confessed to us and cried like a fool.
Because of the headache, I feel since yesterday, I decided not to respond to her and sit down on my seat covering my forehead with my palm and biting my tongue just to control myself to say something bad to her. Lynx is frustratingly seated beside me and trying not to make a commotion for some of our classmates are already here too.
"Seriously, how come you are the secretary of the council? Huh, sounds like you were just elected because you are popular!" Lean said with her annoying tone.
"You are right Lean! What a famous for nothing! So what should we do now ha?" Kate said while Asher is still trying her best to find the documents in her bag.
"Contact your bodyguard or maids right now common make it fast!" Lean exclaimed which makes the class gossip about Asher.
"Okay, okay, I will... Sorry..." She mumbled as she is trembling to hold her phone.
[BLAG] I don't even care what I'm doing right that's why I fiercely whack my desk with my fist because these two nuisances keep on barking like frenzied ugly canines. I stand up and look at them as they nervously stutter saying their reason for being furious with Asher.
"Hey Lean and Kate before you complain, make sure you contribute a lot yesterday. I don't even feel your existence more than Asher. She participated a lot compare to the two of you. So please, just stop." I can't help to keep quiet anymore not because I am the leader but also because I despise what they are doing to her. I instantly glared at Asher while her eyes were still swollen while looking at me like a kid.
"And you stop taking responsibility that you can't even handle," I told her and fetches the notebook she was clasping.
After this uprising scene, I decided to gather everything again about what I remembered. Thankfully, I take down what part I'm going to present, or else this day will be chaos. Lynx also do something beneficial to our group as well as Asher for they also remember their parts.
Moreover, the presentation is not satisfying but still, the three of us made it at the end of the class. We are gratified for at least Mr. Younghyun approved our Title that fasts even though It's so obvious that Mr. Younghyun notices some inadequacy in our report.
"Damn it that was intense, I've never been so stressed like this!" I told Lynx as I am still annoyed about what happened. I even stamped my feet when Mr. Younghyun left the room as well as the BSBA students. I've seen Asher apprehensively looking at me but I can't avoid being furious.
"Shiro..." I didn't know if I'm hallucinating or what for I just heard Asher murmuring my name then I stand up and see her still looking at me while biting her lips but I just ignored her for I still needed to leave for my next class plus I am not mad at her.
It is just I hate myself trusted her like that so easy. I never been like that to anyone before.
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