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#it was so. my god. it was electric. her body language. the dialogue
ghostsessioned · 10 months
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QUIET ! WE ARE NOT OUR OLD SALT -- AND NEVER WILL BE AGAIN.
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dweemeister · 3 years
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Elmer Gantry (1960)
Upon the publication Sinclair Lewis’ novel Elmer Gantry in 1927, an eruption of outrage ensued. The novel, a Juvenalian satire of evangelical Christianity in the United States, drew invectives from evangelical groups and high praise from literary circles. Despite its popularity among American readers, Elmer Gantry’s content long prevented American studio executives from even considering the film adaptation rights. The Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA), from 1934 until 1968, enforced the Hays Code, a guideline for censorship, on all films made by the major American studios for theatrical release. Here is what the Hays Code says on religion – this section was never amended for the entirety of the Code’s existence:
No film or episode may throw ridicule on any religious faith.
Ministers of religion in their character as ministers of religion should not be used as comic characters or as villains.
Ceremonies of any definite religion should be carefully and respectfully handled.
The 1960 film adaptation of Elmer Gantry, released by United Artists (UA), directed and written by Richard Brooks, and featuring one of Burt Lancaster’s most electric performances of his career, violates the second and third part of this section and, arguably, the first as well. By the late 1950s and early ‘60s, enforcement of the Code was beginning to wither – boundary-pushing non-American films (which were exempt from the Code), television, and evolving behavioral and cultural norms in the United States contributed to its eventual demise. One of the beneficiaries was undoubtedly Brooks, whose output around this time – including Blackboard Jungle (1955), The Professionals (1966), and In Cold Blood (1967) – reflects the relaxing standards of Hollywood’s self-imposed censorship. Of the films Brooks made in this period, Elmer Gantry might be the most complete, excoriating, and cinematic.
Elmer Gantry (Lancaster) is a garrulous, ruthless, and ambitious con man who invokes Scripture to hock whatever he is selling. His shtick is effective, as his energetic sermonizing tends to break down the resistance of most. One day, curious about a traveling evangelist tent show passing through town, he encounters Sister Sharon Falconer (Jean Simmons). Gantry, taken by Sister Sharon’s virginal piousness and her fairness, convinces Sister Sharon’s assistant, Sister Rachel (Patti Page), to join their traveling group. Sister Sharon is impressed by Gantry’s – or “Brother Gantry” – orations, and she adjusts her own sermons to complement his. Where Gantry decries the congregants as sinners, Sister Sharon promises salvation through repentance. As time passes, Gantry’s presence in this itinerant ministry becomes the talk of the Midwest and Great Plains. Sister Sharon and Gantry begin to attract new congregants and onlookers’ horror, alike. The sermons become increasingly theatrical, writes the cynical big-city newspaper reporter Jim Lefferts (Arthur Kennedy), who is torn by his admiration of Gantry’s façade and his revulsion for hucksterism. Meanwhile, sex worker Lulu Bains (Shirley Jones) – who once knew Gantry when he was aiming to become a minister – is about to make an unexpected reentry into his life.
Character actors round out the cast of this motion picture, including Dean Jagger as Sister Sharon’s manager, Bill Morgan; Edward Andrews as businessman George F. Babbitt; and John McIntire and Hugh Marlowe as two reverends. Rex Ingram (1936’s The Green Pastures, 1940’s The Thief of Bagdad) cameos in an uncredited appearance as the preacher of a black congregation.
Elmer Gantry never feels like a 146-minute movie, as it moves through its scenes with fervorous pace thanks to some excellent performances and crisp filmmaking (more on both later). Brooks’ adaptation covers less than a quarter of Sinclair Lewis’ novel – Lewis allows its plot to unfold over the course of several years – and takes liberties in deleting or rearranging characters and plot points to fit neatly in a movie adaptation. Like the novel itself, Brooks’ adaptation ends without clear moral or narrative resolution – albeit at an earlier point in the novel. The character of Lulu Bains does not reappear in Lewis’ novel until after the events depicted in the film. To provide Elmer Gantry, the character, with the immoral backstory lost on a moviegoer unfamiliar with the novel, Brooks integrates Lulu into this film adaptation. On a surface level, that appears to deprive Lulu of her own characterization, agency, and backstory, but Brooks allows the character (and Shirley Jones) the space to portray and develop her complicated feelings – a stew of trauma, bitterness, and love – for her current life station and towards Elmer Gantry.
Reverential low-angled shots from cinematographer John Alton (1951’s An American in Paris, 1958’s The Brothers Karamazov) during the revivals make Sister Sharon’s tent seem cavernous, a fabric cathedral without need of stained glass, marble statues, flying buttresses. Looking slightly upwards at Sister Sharon’s of Elmer’s faces (at times with a Dutch angle), the film elevates the two above the masses listening intently on what they have to say, imbuing their scenes with striking imagery that draws the viewer’s attention. The decision to shoot the film in the 1.66:1 screen aspect ratio – wider than the Academy standard, but not as much as the widescreen standard sweeping through American filmmaking at the time – constricts the audience’s peripheral vision, forcing one’s focus on the speaker’s body language, rather than any miscellaneous activity occurring behind or to the side of the speaker.
As for the speakers or, should we say, actors, there are stupendous performances across the ensemble. For his turn as the eponymous lead, Burt Lancaster, known for his vigorous performances, provides Elmer Gantry with vigor aplenty. Modeling his performance off of the behavior of baseball outfielder-turned-evangelist Billy Sunday, Lancaster struts around the tent during revival meetings, his upper body animated in conversation and salesmanship outside those meetings. Even in stillness, Lancaster’s physicality swaggers, brimming with euphoria – his most private moments abound in sexuality molded by what his character might call the love of God. Even Lancaster’s haircut appears to be defying gravity more than usual in Elmer Gantry. The sweat on his brow, within the 1:66:1 frame, feels as if it is about to seep through the camera. As he delivers his lines, Lancaster masters the complicated beat – accelerating with certain turns of phrases and strategic pauses for emphasis – and wildly varying volume of Elmer’s sermons. “Love is like the morning and the evening stars,” he intones as Gantry (that is his signature quote), somehow making us believe in such bromides and other simplifications he sells to the revival’s attendees.
Jean Simmons, as Sister Sharon Falconer, is a clear-eyed minister who nevertheless falls – or, perhaps, “seduced” – for Brother Elmer’s pontifications. In her own way, Sister Sharon Falconer is as ruthless as the man who wheedles his way into her company. Simmons, retaining her British accent, speaks like a patrician but, as Sister Sharon, reminds all that even the poor, the downtrodden, the sightless, the hard-of-hearing can know the munificence of Christ. So different is she from Gantry that when the latter begins to aggressively court her, the scene elicits squirms. Not because the scene is poorly acted, but that Simmons and Lancaster (with assistance from Brooks’ screenplay) have developed their characters so masterfully that Elmer’s pretense-free seduction feels straight from an Old Testament story that invariably incurs God’s wrath. Their characters convince themselves of their mutual love, even though Gantry is probably incapable of loving and Sister Sharon cannot view love outside how she might interpret it through the Bible.
In the aisles or the congregation’s peanut gallery are Arthur Kennedy and Shirley Jones. For Kennedy, as the reporter Jim Lefferts, this is a dress rehearsal for the similar but more biting role of Jackson Bentley in David Lean’s Lawrence of Arabia (1962). Like Bentley was to T.E. Lawrence, Lefferts views the work of Elmer Gantry and Sister Sharon with a cynical lens but, to some degree, each finds a professional need for the other. As Lulu, Shirley Jones crackles with a sexuality essentially nonexistent in American movies at this time. Upon Lulu’s introduction, she tells her fellow sex workers her past experiences with the minister now stealing newspaper headlines:
LULU BAINES: He got to howlin’ “Repent! Repent!” and I got to moanin’ “Save me! Save me!” and the first thing I know he rammed the fear of God into me so fast I never heard my old man’s footsteps!
With this suggestive language that would never have been tolerated by the MPAA a few years earlier, Jones delivers her lines with shamelessness, slightly colored by a modicum of romantic trauma that reveals itself later. Jones is not in Elmer Gantry long, but her presence, her character’s raw contradictions deepen the tragedies that seem to follow those entranced by a former seminary student now returning to preaching his idea of gospel.
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André Previn’s unsettled score to Elmer Gantry leans heavily on brass dissonance and rhythmically complex string runs in the few instances where there is no dialogue or diegetic music. Though not used often, Previn’s music lays bare Gantry’s motivations of lust and profit, a man devoid of internal meaning and one who craves sensation. There are moments throughout the score where it seems like a Coplandesque Americana sound is begging to burst free. But Previn, more than capable of composing such music and considering the narrative to this adaptation, knows better than to let those tendencies escape. The raving strings and blaring brass bury melodicism, which is left for the jazzy interludes that accompany Lulu’s scenes (jazz at this time was considered scandalous by many Americans). Previn’s score might not suit those longing for free-flowing motifs, but the technical skill required to play, let alone accomplish the musical phrasing he intends, some of the passages he writes for Elmer Gantry are stunning.
Earlier in this write-up in reference to the Hays Code, I mentioned that Elmer Gantry villainizes and makes comic characters out of religious figures, in addition to portraying the events at Sister Sharon’s revivals as debauched, deceitful. But does Elmer Gantry “throw ridicule on… religious faith”? Probably not, although those who despise religious belief in and of itself might disagree. Given Sister Sharon’s modesty and her less-fiery diction early in the film, probably not. Brooks does not expand upon what Sister Sharon’s congregation looked or sounded like in the months of years before Elmer Gantry’s arrival. Instead, Brooks’ movie targets individuals seeking to make economic and personal empires of organized religion – and Elmer Gantry, whose ravenous pursuit for money and women, is the man to defile Sister Sharon’s ministry. Only once he ingratiates himself to Sister Sharon, Gantry begins to emphasize what sounds suspiciously close to the “prosperity gospel”, which broadly states that faith in God and religious donations will lead to material wealth and physical wellbeing. The prosperity gospel is not scriptural. But it is a central tenant of numerous evangelical traditions.
Like Oral Roberts, Billy Graham, and the Falwell family, Elmer Gantry is the byproduct of the United States’ Third Great Awakening, which also resulted in Prohibition and the State of Tennessee’s decision to prosecute John Thomas Scopes for teaching human evolution in a public school. Sinclair Lewis, like Richard Brooks and his cast for Elmer Gantry, warn of profiteering “prophets” that remain a fixture of American life. From the mid-1950s to the mid-‘60s, the major Hollywood studios were prioritizing epic movies such as Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments (1956), William Wyler’s Ben-Hur (1959), and George Stevens’ The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965) – spectaculars intended to check the perceived threat of television to moviegoing. A film like Elmer Gantry that disparages religious ministers – even unethical, villainous ones – released during this time was nothing less than a landmark. Adapting a work by one of the great American writers of the twentieth century, Richard Brooks, with no small assistance from a cast topped by Burt Lancaster, results in a venomous film including one of the great characters of American film history. The book is almost a century old and the film is just past its sixtieth anniversary, but Elmer Gantry’s power endures. Elmer Gantry’s dialectic continues, even with evangelical Christianity akin to the homilies of Elmer Gantry supposedly on the wane.
My rating: 10/10
^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Elmer Gantry is the one hundred and sixty-fourth feature-length or short film I have rated a ten on imdb. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).
For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.
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vminity21 · 4 years
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Whimsical | knj
Pairing: Student!Namjoon x female!reader
Genre: fluff/mildangst
Word Count: 4,788
Warning(s): mild language use, slight angst involving the struggles of adulting, tooth rotting fluff, Rating: pg
Summary: Living paycheck to paycheck after moving to Gyeongju has done nothing but plague a bundle of stress upon you. Deciding to take a stroll where the cherry blossoms abundantly bloom, you did not expect to run into an acquaintance of the past; and you definitely did not expect the measure he takes to make sure your burdens are lifted off your shoulders. 
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“What do you mean it costs this much?” When shock mingling with frustration forms into an exasperated sigh, your hand rakes through your hair in disbelief portraying the definition of stress in its purest authenticity. Your fingers that are curled around the auto insurance bill leave small indents behind when the dreaded piece of paper is now being placed upon the table. “Damnit,” tears flood your eyes while your palms shadow over your cheeks. You have already set money aside to save for the rent for your apartment along with your car payment as well as savings toward your electricity cost. Today, the discovery of your current expense being fifty more dollars than usual means that, yet another week goes by with surviving off the little groceries you have left stored in your pantry.
Shoving out of your jacket, the light air of spring has begun, and for once, you would like to appreciate nature without the anxious feeling of life overwhelming your mind. Eyes scanning the vacancy of your apartment, loneliness returns, and the yearn to hear your mother’s voice has never felt so painful. It has only been six months since you moved hours away for a job offer that you felt would be a good opportunity to further you into the career you have sought for. But, never in your existence did you dream that living paycheck to paycheck could bring so much misery, and hardly being able to speak to your mother has been weighing heavy on your conscious, but your determination to make her proud is what matters to you the most.
The jingle of your keys resonates the living room congruent with the shift of your feet wiggling into your tennis shoes. If there is anywhere you want to be right now, it’s not in this apartment, not near the opened envelopes of woe, not near your bedroom that reminds you of your exhaustion, and not near the refrigerator that is empty of any content that can fill your tummy. The drive to the local park flourishing with pinks and whites of cherry blossoms comes into view quicker than you anticipate, and with schools being in session, the area is not as crowded as it would be on the weekends. Petals float in the wind, swooping to the ground to paint the cement with color- your footsteps slow when the tunnel of tree branches exuberates perfumes of the florets to ease your tense frame.
You return to work tomorrow, but gratefully there is plenty of hours left in the day to explore, and with the solace of the atmosphere, it feels nice to escape from the turmoil of watching your paycheck disappear in order to live. A bench appears further into the path, mahogany tint with protruding sunlight breaking through the trees. Memories of what you consider your ‘past life’ churns with images of times where your grandfather shared stories of his childhood speaking lines of wisdom that encouraged you to be the person that you will and have become. He was the first soul to bring you to a park when you were younger, giving you a tour of what all there was to see- your almond eyes widened with wonder, gripping his hand while you would point out all the sights.
You miss those days more than you will profess, wishing you can relive them especially with what you have been enduring since your move. Gaze dropping to your shoes, hands in pockets- you gasp in surprise when your shoulder meets the figure of someone walking from the opposite direction,
“I’m sorry!” Panic is etched in your voice while you swiftly bow, a blush creeping to your cheeks in embarrassment when your steps quicken along the path. The tone belongs to a man who apologizes in return, yet your eyes keep their focus away from him; you’re very timid, something you’ve struggled with since the day you were born, and it’s hard enough to face your fears as it is, and uncertain on if the stranger would have been angry with you, you find it best to pretend it never happened. At least here, you feel safe alongside nature, and when the familiar sound of a rippling lake perks your auditory senses, a small tug of relief pulls at the corner of your lips, and the earlier chagrin of interrupting someone on their tread will no longer disturb your meditation.
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 Something seems familiar about this place. Blusterous winds streaming through strands of your hair that tickle your shoulders beneath the blinding rays of the sun where grass pokes at your legs that are exposed from the end of your dress wrinkled upon your thighs. Cumulus clouds keep their distance from the beams flickering immensely within the blanket of blue, brightening the vibrancy of yellow flowers swaying beside stems of rubicund leaflets enhancing the field in iridescent whispers of delicacy.
You have seen this all before somewhere in the slumbers of imagination where your heart aches for peace such as this. Steeps of ornate mountains encompass the field in lavender shades collecting the finishing touches of scenery your dreams desire. But, there is something different. Rather, the sense that you are alone diminishes which prompts your vision to parade the panorama of daylight until a figure enters a distance ahead of you. A pile of wispy, light hair clears to reveal a man, eyes closed- the backs of his hands posed upon his knees leading to his fingers aimed upward mirroring the position you are in. How he seems so close when he is far away startles you even while you memorize the sight of his thick lips lying in a straight line of content.
Your head tilts in profound concentration of where you may have seen him- where you may have known him, but you come up empty, for here in this world of tranquility, you have not seen him here before. There is a strange ponder of wanting to rise to your feet, but you lean forward instead, observing the slow rise and fall of his chest where he breathes in and out deeply. He is clothed in white, darkening his already tanned skin- your stare tracing from his neck to see his face once more, and when your lids squint to study him,
He opens his eyes-
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“Ma’am? Ma’am,” the echo of a calm voice breaks through enough to awaken your bleary eyes, “Ma’am, are you okay?” Drool gathered at the corner of your mouth you swipe with the hem of your sleeve; your eyes are sensitive from how bright it is outside, and it takes a moment for them to adjust once you turn your head gradually in order to remember where you are. The flowing trickles of water, the soreness of your back scratching from the log of a tree, and the soft squeeze of a large hand on your shoulder alarms you enough to realize you fell asleep while reminiscing at the lake.
You refrain from cursing under your breath when nerves shoot through your veins, gathering yourself enough to look at whoever is hovering above you. Stuttering to find words, you weakly accept the strong hand offered to you to help you up. Concern is etched in the shape of brown irises reading your stare while nostalgia fogs your brain. “Do I- do I know you?” Your voice is hardly a murmur, but he timidly steps away, the familiarity of his face bringing a quiet gasp to your parting lips.
“We, uh, we um, ran into each other earlier,”
“Oh no,” shame shudders your shoulders when you press your forehead into your palm to lightly rub your eyes, “God, I’m so sorry-”
“No, no it’s okay! Really, it’s okay. It was an accident-”
“I should have watched where I was going-”
“Well, I should have, too.”
With a creased forehead, your body is still recovering from your unexpected nap, and you’re trying to feign bravery to return your eyes to the stranger whose hair is hidden within a black beanie, yet blonde tufts brush the tips of his ears. Dimples illuminate his rising cheeks from the tiny grin embellishing his expression, and dialogue disappears from your tongue at the noticing of how exquisite he is.
“Kim Namjoon,” his large hand swallows yours as it did minutes ago, but this time in a polite shake of greeting.
“I’m [Y/N],” you nod seeing his grin widen to cause a silent sweep of relief to your system.
“Wait a minute,” your eyelids enlarge from the recognition now embracing your thoughts. Flashbacks from high school smother you immediately when the images of a quiet persona who sauntered the hallways with the intelligence of an Einstein clicks on a lightbulb subconsciously. “I do know you, we-” wetting your lips, you stammer in fear of being wrong, “We went to the same grade school. You- you beat me at the math competition! Wh- what brings you to Gyeongju?”
“College,” his voice is shaky for you to jolt at the realization that you are still shaking his hand- roughly you might add, awkwardly releasing to return your limb to your side. It’s already humiliating enough to stand before him after plummeting into his side when first arriving to this destination, to then making a fool of yourself sleeping in front of him to also awaken to ruin all ounce of potential conversation you could have had. Preparing yourself for the worst, you wince, wishing you could slip under the covers of your bedroom to hide away forever. “What about you? Are you attending University here, too?”
“I- erm, about that-” There is not a way for you to explain, because there isn’t much to say other than your heart belonged to another career path. “I received a job offer here. One that I thought would provide good benefits than my original plan, but it’s not what I expected,” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow igniting a surge in frantic slews of sentences from your mouth, “I mean, I love it. I really do, it’s- it’s what I love to do, but I guess- I want- I want more from it. But I don’t know how to- I-” Warm chuckles leave his lips that halts your rambling in a heartbeat, “I talk way too much, I’m sorry-”
“You’re not talking too much. You’re fine, I promise.” a brief spark settles a reminder of your budding attraction toward him that your chest heats with a dark hue of red; your arms slide to cross over your chest in an attempt at hugging yourself- timorously beaming up at him to search his tender gaze. “You know, if you’re up for it, there’s a restaurant not too far from here that has the best pasta I’ve ever had,” Namjoon’s fingers disappear into the pockets of his jeans- nervously rocking on his heels because after all these years he never thought he would run into anyone he once acquainted with in his younger days, but here you are, standing before him in all your glory. You were someone he admired from afar who treated him as though he was part of the team versus an outcast as others preferred him to be. But you were different. You never saw anyone as below you, and though the pair of you never blossomed into a friendship, you at least treated him with kindness despite the rumors pupils whispered in the foyers. “I already planned on going there today actually-”
“I’d love to!” Your fingertips shut your lips from the excitement you didn’t mean to interrupt him with, “I mean, I uh, I’d- I’d like that very much, thank you,”
It’s strange how the imagination of a world can seem so real, and the awareness of how close he is bringing flutters of butterflies within your stomach while your ears tune in to the scuffling sounds of your footsteps prodding along the route. No matter how hard you contemplate, whatever vision you had at the lake isn’t coming to you, but the consistent feeling that you’re experiencing brings the suspicion that whatever you dreamt is now becoming a reality. 
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 The air is calmed in a manner that reflects a pleasant silence where your focus happens to remain on the cold mush of fibrous moss gathering between your fingers. Eyes are closed momentarily yet the hint of the sun is evident, but the source of your confusion isn’t from the odd wonder of why your hands are gripping the earth, instead, it is for the question of why your back is pressed to the ground as though you have fallen into slumber.
Blinking open to the blue of the sky, you are paused for only a mere moment to discover this time, sparse altocumulus clouds entering your vision enough to ease yourself to sit up. Freeing your digits from what you see to be a deep shade of magenta mingled with numerous hues of green festooning across the land, it is astonishing the beauty your vision is encountering prompting you to whirl your head in every direction to take in the glacier gray of the mountains you observe to be cratering a lapis glow of a lake.
The familiarity of a reminiscent involving a body of water decides to accompany your mind, but the difference between your memory of what you assume regards to reality, is that what you are gazing upon now, is nothing but magical. In wondrous awe, you find yourself standing, taking a slow bare foot forward, just to be halted when the feel of something is settled around your head. Furrowed eyebrows, you lightly tap along what feels to be numerous twigs tangled together with stems of bloomed petals. You raise your other hand to retrieve the item, glance widening at the myriad of dancing colors in the form of flowers embellishing what looks to be what one would call a crown.
Has it been there all along?
An inkling to turn around urges you to do so, lips parted in a gasp though not one sound escapes. He stands before you, the man from a preceding ponder, dressed in white, angelically beaming from head to toe, imitating the enchanting resonation of the atmosphere, causing you to long for whatever bliss he has within his touch. Did he give this to you?
Tenderly, he reaches to place his fingertips beneath the flower crown where your heart leaps at the faint brush of his skin. Lifting it ever so steadily, he returns to set the emblem where it belongs, to the empress of his heart, of his universe, completing you in all entirety. Your eyes flicker between his in suppressed doubt; is this real? You are so enveloped in the amiability of his gape, your palms extend to fold along his shoulders, leading his hand to rest at the side of your neck. He is reading your soul as much as you are trying to decipher his, but there is a connection that no other will ever be able to gain from you as much as him.
The nearness of him is what you are now in concentration of, leaning closer, waiting for what you are hoping for-
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Namjoon’s long frame slides upon the plaid picnic blanket, abdomen first, while he folds his arms to where he rests his cheek, “I’m feeling the weight of that essay from last night,”
“And, you still turned it in late,” you tease, munching on a snack while he throws a playful side glance. It’s been a month since the reuniting, and the friendship has become exactly what you have been needing. Unfortunately, finances have still been a heavy burden, but at least you have found an ally in Gyeongju who is just as excited to see you as you are him.
“I mean I was pretty distracted,”
Scoffing, you smack his shoulder lightly with the back of your hand, “That video of that kitten was so cute, and you know it,”
“I never said it wasn’t cute,” the way his lips break into the widest smile, his eyes squinting in the way they do that then reveals his dimples; as much as you’d like to deny the way your heart feels a sense of longing, you mask it quite effortlessly.
“You literally giggled so much, I thought you were going to pee,” breathy laughter escapes him prompting him to bury his head into his arms, your gaze never leaving his shaking shoulders. “Well, it’s true!” Moments such as these bring a joy you are thankful exists, but little does Namjoon know, or so you assume, that once you step into your apartment to be reminded of how little you have moneywise, the depression seeps in. It is hard enough to work every day as hard as you do, just to watch your paycheck subtract away right before your eyes with each bill. It is something you haven’t necessarily opened about, because you just don’t know how. And, the last thing you need is for someone to offer help that you know they may not have.
“That’s only happened one time!” He exclaims, him shifting to lean more on his side so he can peer up at you. This area particularly is further within the park where there are not as many trees, which gives enough space to lay out a blanket and view the scenery. Sunshine brightens the atmosphere as well as warming your skin, and though you’re continuing to cackle with Namjoon, you slide until you are upon your back, using your arm to shade some of the sunlight. One perk regarding the park is it’s free, which is why you always ask to come here when hanging out, and you refuse to let Namjoon pay a dime for anything, not even a candy bar.
The nearness of his body does not heighten your senses until you turn to look at him, and that’s when you melt wishing nothing more than to kiss him. Which explains the dreams you’ve been having lately. Laughter has ceased for the time being, instead the conversation moves into a different subject, one you hoped wouldn’t happen, but considering your avoidance of going to many places, and the embarrassment of Namjoon seeing the emptiness of your kitchen one too many times, the paranoia of him catching on to why you have been slightly more stressed than usual may enter his suspicions.
“Have you been okay?” By the tone of his voice, you can tell right away he is aware of something. But, how can you tell him you are fine, when you are nowhere near one hundred percent. You definitely feel that way when with him, because he makes you forget about the reality at home, but gives you a time to escape, a time to embrace the joy he provides you every chance he gets. Should you tell him the truth? “[Y/N], I never mentioned this before just because I figured it was just coincidence, but when was the last time you’ve gotten groceries? Like, actual groceries,”
“Ramen is groceries,”
“I-” Namjoon pauses, “What I mean is, more than just ramen noodle cups and stale chips,”
“Maybe that’s how I like my chips. Corny and stale,”
“That sounds-”
“Listen,” you lift an index finger, “if vegetables and fruits would last longer than a week, I totally wouldn’t feel like I’m wasting money.”
“You know if you need anything, I’m here for you,” his words nearly bring you to tears, leading you to turn your head in the opposite direction to avoid his concerned expression. He knows you are making excuses at this point and of course, he is not entirely sure of why, but he may be able to guess correctly if he tried.
“I don’t need anything, I promise I’m fine,” your reply is soft, but loud enough for him to hear. Though you can’t see it, Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow, him picking at his fingertips while in deep concentration. He is learning that you, stubbornly, are most definitely not going to let him help in any way, but unbeknownst to you, is that he will stop at nothing to make sure you are okay no matter what.
“Look at me,” your heart skips a beat immediately when you slowly return to where he is within your glimpse, his thumb reaching to brush your bottom lip where he inches much closer than you anticipated. All you know, is that if he reads every word that your mind is screaming, your heart may burst out of your chest. Yearning for his kiss, he is close enough to where his breath sweeps your chin, “[Y/N], really, if there is anything at all that you absolutely need, please know I will do anything for you,”
Your fingers bundle into the collar of his shirt absentmindedly, letting his forehead press upon yours before you dare to close the gap you are so anxiously wanting to do. His thumb now strokes your cheek, tickling your skin to the point you feel breathless.
“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper, a hushed tear dropping onto your cheek before he swipes it away.
“I just want you to be okay,”
“I am,” you try your best to sound reassuring, “Joon, I promise you I am,”
“Okay,” he whispers, and even then, you have no idea the best that is yet to come.
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Sleeping cherry blossoms encircle you save for the entrance of a tunnel gleaming piercingly bright in the distance that seems so close yet so far out of reach. The iridescent shades of the petals glitter in preparation for what is to come, but your focus solely remains on the escape ahead into a world you have always dreamed of. Or is this the world you have always dreamed of? Scents of the florets waft past your nose in a way to ease you, and the lingering thought of the man clothed in white shadows the crevices of your conscious. Just the mere reminisce of him prompts his appearance and as he stands behind you in all his glory, he knows the desire looming beneath your chest for the magic you crave.
His arms reach to link around you, chin nestling on your shoulder; there is no fear for he is the only being welcome in your world of serenity. Your hands smooth upon his folded arms that remain resting against your abdomen, and forever seems to be in the forefront of your mind. Spinning within his embrace, a subtle smirk graces his mouth while your hands glide to his chest, and finally after many dreams of pining, he leans in to close the gap- snatching your lips as softly as you have imagined causing the closed petals all around the pair of you to bloom endlessly, flourishing every ounce of space the two of you may have had a fraction before. The power is within his kiss, summoning the blossoms to awaken as they are meant to. The same as he is meant to be with you.
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 “I miss you, too, Mom,” you smile into the phone, sifting through the mail you just checked, eyebrows furrowing when you feel as though something is missing. “Yeah- yeah, I have, I mean, yes mom, I may have a boyfriend,” you giggle, shaking your head at your persistent mother who has been dying to catch up with you since you moved. “I think- yeah, I think he may be who I’ve been waiting for,” when a knock at the door alerts you, you quickly bid your mom a farewell with the promise of calling her back tomorrow before you start work again.
Staring at the pile of mail, you wonder why the utility bill has not been sent. It is around the time that it should have arrived meaning you may need to take a short trip to the leasing office if Namjoon doesn’t mind. Giddily, you skip to look through the peephole to see him, standing tall with his slim fingers slipped into his pockets. Unlocking the door, you run a swift hand through your hair in an attempt to neaten the strands before opening the entrance. “Hey!” You breathe, gesturing for him to come in, and when the door closes, you leap into his embrace before smiling into a sweet kiss.
“Are you ready for today? The weather is beautiful out,”
“Beyond ready,” you kiss him again. The anticipation to explore another location involving nature is what you enjoy especially with someone who equally enjoys it as much as you. “But I must make a quick trip to the leasing office if that’s okay? I have Netflix if you want to chill for a bit- it shouldn’t take too long.”
Namjoon chuckles, leaning in to press a slow kiss to your lips, “Everything okay?”
“Mm yeah,” you reply in a daze, “I just haven’t received my utility bill yet and I’m concerned. Can you um, can you do that again? I may need the extra umph,”
Breathy laughter is interrupted when he kisses you again, and it takes everything in you to pull away, “Okay, I feel better now,”
“Good. Whatever it takes,”
As much as you would love to not have to pay any bills, you saunter across the road to where the leasing office lives, encompassed by sparse trees and a small swimming pool off to the side. You are happy to see Jung Hoseok, leaned on his desk, spectacles slid down his nose, and gaze distracted by whatever he is reading on the computer screen.
“Good morning,” you greet, Hoseok immediately looks to see who has walked in, gesturing with a smile toward a seat in front of his desk.
“How can I help you today?”
“Yes, um, I just went through my mail today and I realized I hadn’t received the utility bill for this month, so I wanted to check to make sure I didn’t miss anything,”
“Ah, yes, let me pull up your account here,” his fingers fly over the keyboard, the clicking noise being the only sound filling the space. “Hm, looks like it’s already been paid for.”
“Excuse me?” Confusion is evident within your voice as well as plastered upon your entire expression. “When did I? I paid it?”
“Mhm, as well as your rent for the rest of the year among all of your other bills. There’s enough money on your account to just automatically draft-”
“But I didn’t-”
“Well it says it right here,” he pokes the screen once.
“Are you able to see when the money was put in? I have no idea how-” The realization hits you suddenly prompting a small gasp.
“Er, is everything okay, Ms. [Y/N]?”
“Yeah,” you say quite breathlessly, gradually standing to your feet, the world spinning faster than you could have prepared for.
“I mean, I can ask my coworker, Taehyung if he knows anything. I got back from vacation today, so I may not have the answer for you-”
“No, no it’s okay. I- I think I know who is responsible. Thank you so much, Hoseok.”
“Anytime, dear!”
Being slightly dizzy while running is an interesting combo, but you make it to your apartment without tripping over your own two feet and you stand before the door, your chest heaving. The dreams you have been having- it all makes sense now. You wanted nothing more than a reason, or a miracle, to feel as if you were home, or where you belonged, and finally, it was given to you in the most unexpected way. When you came to Gyeongju, you had no idea that Namjoon would show up in your life and turn it into the most beautiful adventure you have ever had. You were willing to suffer through the bills if it meant being close to him, and how he figured out your hardship, you are uncertain- you always avoided the subject when it came to hardly having any money. Slowly stepping into your apartment, you click the door closed, Namjoon’s focus turning from the tv to you as he rises to his feet. You are speechless as you gaze at the man of your dreams. When he said he would do anything for you, you never imagined this.
“Whatever it takes?” You croak, hardly sure even now what to say. Namjoon will do anything to make you happy, and that is how you knew after getting to know him the past few months that you were wholeheartedly in love with him. You will spend the rest of your life trying to thank him no matter the circumstances, and as soon as his frame entangles with yours, he whispers,
“Whatever it takes.”
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axwalker · 4 years
Text
The Trade 9
Synopsis :  Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats she has no other option that seduce Liam and make him fall in love with her. But who does she really love? (AU)
Pairings:  DrakexMC
Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get a bit dark. Mention of substance abuse. NFSW
Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback.  Don’t hesitate to comment!
Disclaimer: Some of the dialogues and settings as well as most of the characters belong to Pixelberry (except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien JR). I also used a line from Grey’s Anatomy that really made me think about Drake.
To catch up: Masterlist
Thanks to @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ for being my incredible beta reader and always being there to answer my questions. Love you ❤️❤️❤️
THE AMAZING MOOD-BOARD was the work of the talented @mskaneko ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ I was dying to share it!! You captured my babies so perfectly! I love youuuu. 
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@pedudley​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ @burnsoslow​ @yukinagato2012​ @lauzales​ @desiree---1986​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @mskaneko​ @msjr0119​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @pug-bitch​ 
Alexis woke up with a turmoil of emotions. The previous night had been the most romantic and exhilarating night of her entire life. After their first time, they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms only to wake up two hours later and make love again.
True to his word, Drake had spent the entire night making love, kissing, and getting to know every single part of her. With him, she could let go completely, and the feeling was unbelievable. However, now in the daylight, she realized that it was time to wake up from her perfect dream. She couldn’t avoid her father’s threats anymore, so she had to come back. It was the only way to protect her.
She tried to get out of bed but, a suddenly awoke, Drake pulled her against him.
“Hi.” He smiled. “Where do you think you’re going, O’Brien?” He tickled her, enjoying her laughter. “C’ mere baby” He pulled her body towards him, so she’d lie on top of him, her head against his chest.
“I can’t stop touching you,” He said placing a kiss on her forehead as one hand drew lazy circles on her soft back and the other rubbed her ass.
“I don’t want you to never stop touching me, Drake” She pushed herself against his body and kissed him deeply, her hand dancing in his neck, then down his chest and lower stomach until she reached his cock, already hard. She took him in her hand and stroke him rhythmically until he was desperate for her.
He grabbed her from her waist and sat on the edge of the bed with her on his lap.  She straddled him so he pulled her against his chest, cradling her as his lips ravaged her collarbone and her neck. His passionate kisses and soft touches made Alexis crazy, feeling desire with each one of his movements. Her back arched giving him full access to her breasts that he cupped kissing the spot where her jaw and neck connected, his thumbs slowly teasing her hard nipples. She moaned loudly desperate to feel his thumbs much lower.
“Drake, please”
Drake smiled against her neck “Is this what you want, baby?” His question was joined by the movement of his right hand wandering through her body, producing jolts of electricity everywhere he touched her. Finally, he reached her folds. He stroked the skin of her core enjoying how soft she was, before circling the little nub inside of her with his thumb.
Drake growled “Fuck, Lexie, you’re so wet for me” He kept teasing her, touching every bit of skin around her clit.
“God, Drake, you’re driving me crazy, please…” Drake’s finger suddenly entering her didn’t let her finish.
“Is this it, Lexie?” He whispered to her ear “Is this how you like it?” She nodded lazily too excited to answer. He stopped kissing her so he could watch her come undone under his touch. “Come for me, my Lexie” He slid another finger inside making her writhe against him, her breaths becoming shorter, and shorter as she clung to Drake’s neck.
“Drake, I…I god Drake fuck!” She screamed when a powerful wave of heat ran across her body leaving her wasted.
Drake steadied her with his arms, stroking her back. He kissed her the top of her head giving her time to recover.
When she came back from her high, she wanted nothing more than to be filled by him.
“I need you to fuck me, Drake” His cock was already throbbing, but he felt like it was going to burst at her words
“Whatever you want Alexis, I’m yours” He positioned himself with the tip of his dick rubbing her center “Look at me, O’Brien. I want to see your pretty face as I enter you”
She gasped and locked her eyes with him, her hands around his neck, his gaze piercing hers, as he entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to him
He growled again biting her shoulder “Fuck, Lexie you feel incredible baby, so fucking tight”
They rocked their hips at the same pace, slowly at first but sooner increasing speed staring at each other as their movements became more passionate, more desperate. He thrusted her powerfully, feeling her walls tighten around him. The sensation was unbelievable, they felt so close to each other, a connection like neither of them had never experienced before. He hit her spot several times making her scream his name between moans until, without taking his eyes off of her, he stroked her clit as they both reached a point of no return.
“Drake!” She hissed his name, as her muscles compressed around him. The sensation of her around his dick, her eyes still fixated on his and his name on her lips sent him over the edge with her, making him grunt as he filled her completely.
They stayed like that for a few moments, savoring their closeness, the electricity still joggling between them. Drake felt like the luckiest man on earth having her in his arms like that.
He lowered his head to put his forehead against hers smiling.
“Drake, that was…” She smiled incapable of putting her feelings into words, scared that she’d say too much.
“That was unbelievable, Lexie” He peppered her face with kisses stroking her hair, then he lowered his voice to a husky tone and whispered on her ear “As much as I want to keep you in bed all day and hear you scream my name over and over again…”
She laughed blushing a deep shade of red. “I love how modest you are”
He smiled against her ear giving her little pecks on her earlobe “As I was saying, I would love to keep you here, but after last night and this morning you’ve taken all my strength woman, I need breakfast” She rolled her eyes playfully as he kept talking “What about we grab some things from the kitchen and take a walk to the lake.” He kissed her nose.“I think you’ll enjoy the view”
She cupped his face with her small hands and kissed him back. “I would love that”.
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Maxwell’s hangover was the worst one he had ever experienced. Not only because he had drunk at least one bottle of Grey Goose by himself; but because he had had the worst fight of his life with the man he loved more than anything.
He had tried to follow Alexis’ advice and give Rashad some time. He knew that he wasn’t ready, that his lover was a victim of a very conservative environment, and overall, that Rashad was hurting too. But Maxwell couldn’t take it any longer. He was sick of the hidden calls, the secret text messages, the furtive looks, his dates with Kiara. He wanted to shout to the world how in love he was, how perfect he and Rashad were for each other. Their biggest issue was that Maxwell knew that Rashad’s reluctance to admit his feelings wasn’t only because of his father’s old views, but because he was afraid of losing his status. Even if Liam would never fire him, he would lose Kiara and her support, and Rashad’s old ambition to be president one day would be shattered. Maxwell couldn’t stand to pass after his career.
Suddenly, his attention was diverted when he turned to the window and saw a strange car drive into the estate. The man in the car parked it and was greeted by Bertrand at the entrance. Maxwell went to join them.
“Ah Maxwell, I’m glad you’re here. This gentleman seems to think Miss O’Brien, the ambassador’s daughter, is on our state.” Bertrand arched his brows “Do you know anything about that?”
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Alexis poured a jug of hot coffee into a big thermos as Drake cut some bread and cheese for their sandwiches. They completed their picnic bag with some fruits, jam, and butter, and left forthe lake on Drake’s and Savanah’s bikes.
When they arrived, Alexis was astonished by the wild beauty of the place.
The lake, window clear, sat in the middle of a green valley; the atmosphere was conveniently calm and quiet. A little red boat was tied up at the dock.
“What about taking a tour on the lake, O’Brien?”
She smiled mischievously “As long as you do the rowing, I’m all up for it”
He laughed grabbing her by her waist and kissing her “It’s a deal, Lexie”
Once installed on the boat, they started eating and drinking coffee in comfortable silence. He took advantage of the opportunity to observe her. She was sitting in front of him, but her big brown eyes were all over the landscape. She was wearing Savanah’s old jeans and one of his shirts with the top buttons undone, so he could see the skin of her neck and the beginning of her cleavage. Her damp hair was loose, flowing softly with the wind and her perfect beautiful face looked calm, in peace. She looked like a real goddess but had absolutely no idea of the effect she had on him, which only made her more beautiful. He knew he would never get tired of looking at her. Drake loved every delicate movement and little tic like the bottom lip she used to bite when something worried her. Or her habit of running her hand through her hair when she was nervous. The way she hugged herself when something made her sad. Drake wasn’t a sentimental man, but he couldn’t help but feel like the happiest man on earth at that moment.
Suddenly, her gaze shifted and she met his piercing eyes. “A penny for your thoughts, Walker”
He smirked “I was just admiring the view”
She blushed shaking her head. “You’re much smoother than you think, Drake”
“I have my moments.” He grinned and added pointing the landscape. “What do you think?”  
“It’s beautifu.l” She smiled nostalgically. “It makes me think about a lake we used to visit when we had week-ends off at the boarding school.”
“Were you there a long time?” He placed his hand on her thigh comfortingly.
“My whole life, since I was 6 years old until I graduated.” She sighed. “I hated it at first, but it quickly became a much better home than my own. My father was ... well, you know. And my mother spent a lot of time getting wasted.”
He rubbed her cheek. “You never talk about her.”
She ran her hand through her hair. “You never talk about yours either.”
He kept on rowing. “That’s not true, I did last night. She was a bad mother. She left when we needed her the most. There’s nothing left to add.”
She took a deep breath “My mother had a lot of troubles when I was growing up. She was trapped in a marriage with a man that hated her, forced to keep appearances at all costs. She was weak and the pressure was too strong, so she found shelter in sleeping pills and vodka.” She stopped talking, refusing to cry and ruining their morning.
Drake’s heart tugged watching her fight her tears.
“I’ll tell you something, I’ve never told anyone before” His tone was serious, but his eyes were playful, and he was hiding a smile as he talked.
She smiled, relieved at the change of subject. “Spill your guts, Walker”
“When I was 15, my sister, who was 11 at the time, really wanted to watch Harry Potter, but no one wanted to go with her. I felt bad for her, so I went, even if I was sure I was going to hate the damn movie” He gave her an uncomfortable smile “but as it turned out, the movie wasn’t that bad, so I might’ve watched it again ... ”
She could barely contain her laughter “ Aaand???”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re enjoying this too much O’Brien.” He grinned, “ And all the others, several times”
She roared with laughter. “You’re a Potterhead” She leaned to kiss him. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard, Walker.”
He feigned indignation “I’m no such thing, O’Brien. I don’t even know what that means, and if you lean like that again you’re gonna make the boat capsize”
She laughed. “Such a grumpy man! You don’t have to worry with me Drake, I’m a Potterhead myself, a proud member of House Gryffindor.” She cocked her brows “You’re definitely a Slytherin”
“I haven’t taken a house test O’Brien, I’m not crazy like other people”
“You haven’t taken the test, yet. Let’s talk later tonight after a few whiskeys and a bit of…” She bit her bottom lip provocatively “convincing”
He rolled his eyes smiling “Right, let’s see about that” He stopped rowing and grabbed a sandwich.
“So Walker, now we know your real favorite movie. What’s the fake one? You know the one you tell people instead of Harry Potter”.
He took some water from the lake and splashed her jokingly.
“Hey!” She laughed heartily
 “You have no one to blame but yourself, O’Brien.” He smirked. “If you really have to know; my favorite movie is The Shawshank redemption”.
“That’s actually a great movie, I loved the ending so much”
“What about you?” He resumed the rowing.
“It’s a French movie about this girl whose only ambition is to make people around her happy. Amelie. I’ve watched it like a thousand times.”
He frowned. “Yeah, I heard about it, but I’ve never actually watched it. Not my type of movie.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing, it has everything: mystery, romance, humor, Paris -It’s perfect” She spoke with the same intensity she did every time she was passionate about something, whether it was a TV show or a political important issue. Drake absolutely loved that about her.
He was about to answer when he saw that the sky had turned grey.
“I think it’s time to head home, Lexie” He said pointing the sky. Something about the way he said home moved her deeply. There was nothing she wanted more than to call his cabin home, and nothing further away from her reality.
After Drake tied up the boat to the pier, Alexis raced himback to the house.As he was familiar with the road and she wasn’t, when Alexis arrived Drake was already standing next to his bike wearing a very annoying smug look on his face
“Finally, O’Brien! I thought you were never going to arrive; I was getting worried,” he said teasingly.
She stepped off the bike and stood on her toes, impossibly close to him. Placing her hands around his neck, she whispered in his ear, “You’re being mean Walker, and that’s a shame because I was about to beg you to take me to your bed and fulfill your promise of making me scream your name all afternoon ...” She turned to leave smirking.
He swallowed hard, then grabbed her waist pulling her against him to kiss her passionately.
“Don’t worry about that, baby. I will.” He spoke in a husky tone stroking her back.
Suddenly, they heard the motor of a car approaching the house.
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Liam was enjoying a rare, calm morning reading his newspaper and drinking hiscoffee, without any staff member bothering him. Even if he believed that running for president was the best decision he had ever made, the continual soliciting was exhausting.
Unfortunately for Liam, the calm didn’t last.
“Good morning, Liam.”
Liam nodded his head at him. “Father.”
“The polls this morning.” Constantine threw the paper at Liam. “As you’ll see they’re not as good as the ones we did last week after you were seen with that woman”
“Her name is Alexis, father”
“I don’t give a damn, Liam. It’s time for you to take this more seriously. Is she still in Lythikos? Maybe we can arrange something ‘romantic’ for you two and call the press”
“First of all, my romantic life is not something you can arrange. Second, she left with Maxwell and Drake two nights ago. She was not feeling right”
Constantine’s brows arched. George hadn’t mentioned anything. “Wasn’t she? And he left with Drake and that… that…”
“Be very careful at what you’re calling Max. He’s one of my closest friends”
Constantine knew better than contradict Liam on the matter, so he let it pass.
“Listen to me, son. I’ve known George since Alexis was a little girl. I’ll concede that she’s beautiful and charming, but I’m also aware of the effect she has on men. Even George, who loves her daughter very much knows that she can get into trouble easily. Why is Drake with her?”
Liam sighed “Drake and Max, Father. Where are you going with this?”
“I’m saying that if you don’t pay attention someone else is going to steal her from you under your nose.” He tapped his finger on the desk. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, Liam but some women need to be tamed, and for what I’ve heard, Alexis is one of them.”
Liam stood up angrily staring at Constantine “She’s not a horse, father. I do not need to tame her.”
Seeing his reaction, the ex-president changed his tactic. “I can see you really care for her, son. Why don’t you go to Ramsford and surprise her?”
Liam couldn’t deny that he was dying to see her again. When he had talked with Drake over the phone, he had been more than evasive about the reasons that had pushed Alexis to leave so suddenly, and Liam couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy he had felt at the thought of his best friend taking care of her, so maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go to Ramsford after all.
“For once, I will follow your advice, father. I’ll be leaving for Ramsford this afternoon”.
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Maxwell got off the car. “Hi, guys!” He smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry to turn up like this, I tried to call you, but either of you answered your phone.” He looked at Alexis. “Your father is looking everywhere for you, Blossom. A detective showed up at Ramsford this morning, we convinced him that you were sleeping in your room, but we’re sure he’ll come back.”
Drake turned to Alexis, suddenly pale, and held her close to his chest, protectively.
“You don’t have to go back to that, Lexie. Stay with me.” He kissed her front as he rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “You’ll be safe here, I promise.”
He pronounced those last words with so much devotion in his voice, that she felt her heart shatter because there was nothing she could do. If she wanted to protect her, she had to leave him.
“I’m sorry Drake, I have to.” She turned to Maxwell, all her strength focused on holding her tears. “I’ll gather my things, then we can leave.”
She entered the house, followed by Drake; Maxwell, sensing they needed space, decided to wait in the car.
“What is going on, Alexis?”
The edge on his voice made her hate herself for hurting the man she loved. Because It was pointless to deny it any longer, she loved him. She loved Drake Walker in a way that had taken her completely by surprise, a way that she knew would devastate her. She cursed herself for succumbing to her feelings, not for what that would mean for her, but for him.  Alexis knew she couldn’t save herself anymore, but maybe if she truly let him go now, if she had the courage to set him free, she would save Drake. Even if it meant he would hate her.
“Please, Drake, don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” She started to look everywhere for her party dress and shoes.
“What the hell are you talking about, O’Brien?” He watched her move from one side of the living room to another. “Fuck, Alexis!  Stop moving and tell me what the hell it’s going on.”
She hugged herself before speaking, trying to avoid the pain. Let him go. It’s what’s best for him. Even if he hates you, let him go. “I have to go back to my real life. This was a beautiful escape, Drake,” she paused to control her breathing, so he didn’t hear the tears in her voice.  “But that’s all it was. I have to go back to my real life now.”
He was only a few inches of her. She knew that if he touched or kissed her, she wouldn’t be able to leave, so she took two steps backward.
“An escape?” He raised his voice but then sighed trying to calm himself. “Alexis, I’m sure there’s something you’re not telling me.”
He cut the small distance between them and lowered his head trying to meet her eyes. When she refused, he took her chin between his fingers, rubbing her cheek with his right hand. She closed her eyes trying to memorize his touch, the feeling of his hands on her.
“Please, Baby. Don’t do this. I know you feel the same way that I do. I want to spend every night, every day with you, getting to know you, all of you” He took her in his arms. “You belong here. These past two days you’ve been happier here with me, that I’ve ever seen you before.”
It took all of Alexis' strength to detach herself from his arms but she needed to end it. It would kill her but she had no choice. “You’re not listening to me!” She could barely breathe. Let him go. It’s what’s best for him. Even if he hates you.  “I want to go back to the campaign, to everything there, to everyone there.” She looked at him knowingly.
He couldn’t believe what she was saying, he refused to. “To him?” He looked at her intently, his dark eyes almost burning her. “Are you really telling me that after everything that happened between us. Everything that we’ve shared, you’re just going to go back to his arms that easily?” She looked at him holding her tears, unable to speak.
He almost yelled “Answer me, Alexis”
That was it. The end of everything. The end of the only love she would ever feel. Her heart was beating so fast and so painfully, she could feel it breaking into little pieces.
Let him go. It’s what’s best for him. Even if he hates you. “Yes, back to Liam. Back to where I really belong”
He shook his head, a sardonic smile on his lips. “I’m not often wrong about people,” He cocked his brows letting out a bitter laugh. “But, fuck, when I’m wrong, I’m really wrong.”
“Drake, I-“  She sighed, completely heartbroken.
“Save it, O’Brien. I’m not interested anymore”
He looked at her one last time. His penetrating gaze was a mix of hurt, anger, and disappointment. Alexis could congratulate herself because she had succeeded, he hated her. “You’re right, Alexis. You should go”.
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Alexis hadn’t said a word the whole trip to Ramsford. She had silently cried the entire time, and Maxwell hadn’t had the courage to ask her anything. When they arrived at the mansion, Bertrand informed them that George was there and that he wanted to see her as soon as she arrived. She felt hatred coming out from all her pores as she went to meet him. Without knocking, she opened the Beaumont’s study door, her father was sitting there behind the desk waiting for her.
“The prodigal daughter returns.” He looked at her with the same cold disdain he had always shown her. “What the hell have you been these past days? Don’t forget we have a deal, Alexis.”
She put her palms on the desk leaning towards her father.
“Let’s clear something up, dear father.” She tried to control the anger flowing through her veins. “We do have a deal. I’ll marry Liam and in exchange, you don’t do anything to her. That’s it. You won’t control me, and you won’t ever bring that scum back to Cordonia again. Are we clear?”
George laughed coldly. “Please, Alexis. You know as well as I do that you will do whatever I tell you to because if you don’t, she will suffer the consequences”
Alexis cocked her brow. “What are you going to do? If you harm her, you’ll lose your only way to pressure me.” She leaned closer to him, “and I swear father, if you touch one hair of her head you’ll see what I’m capable of. Do. Not. Provoke. Me”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer and left the room shutting the door behind her.
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After his mother left, Drake had never been able to trust anyone outside the friends he had grown up with. He certainly liked women and women liked him back, but somehow, he had managed to avoid all emotional drama or involvement. His love life was clean and simple, he met someone, they had fun, spent the night, maybe shared breakfast, and it ended there. His only rule was to be honest from the start, so no one would get hurt. Of course, he was aware that a few of them had approached him only to get close to Leo or Liam but he had never stayed long enough for it to hurt. Until her.
Everything had changed the damned night he had met her. From the beginning, he had known she was going to be different, he had never met anyone so full of contrasts, she had a mix of vulnerability and strength, sweetness and fire, that fascinated him. He hadn’t even tried to push her away, only wanting to know more and have more of her, completely addicted. And now he had to pay the consequences.
He had been sitting in the bar for two hours and a bottle of whiskey, but it didn’t matter. He had her under his skin, his emotions switching from despair to anger and back, in a matter of seconds. No matter how much he drank, he simply couldn’t think about anything else than her; forced to accept that his attraction had become something more much deeper. He would’ve given anything to have her in his arms again. To hear her laugh at something he said. To see her dancing in his kitchen. He slammed angrily his glass on the counter after drinking its remaining whiskey on one gulp. After all the years successfully avoiding any emotional connection, he couldn’t believe that he had fallen into the trap, but it was pointless to ignore it any longer, he was madly in love with her.
He was so immersed in his thoughts that it took him a few seconds to hear the familiar voice next to him.  
“Well, well if it isn’t Drake Walker himself! I thought I had been pushed from my little brother’s campaign because I was a loose cannon and look at you Mr. Chief of staff, completely wasted in a dirty dive bar.”
“Fuck off, Leo.”
Leo laughed and sat next to Drake, noticing the almost empty Jack Daniel’s bottle.
“I know you like your drinking Drake, but getting wasted alone with cheap whiskey?” He smirked, “This is about a woman”.
Drake took another large sip staring at the bar in front of him. Leo called the bartender and gave her his best smile.
“Hi, babe! I’ll have a glass of Mortlach, 20 years!” He turned to Drake again “I thought that at least you had learned something, Walker. I know my romantic little brother is a lost cause, but you’ve never been like that. You’ve always known the truth, women leave. It’s what they do best. They leave or cheat. You should know better than to care for one of them.”
“Shut the fuck up, Leo. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Ha! So defensive. May I ask, who’s this mysterious woman that finally found the key to Drake’s Walker tender heart?” He added mockingly.
Drake rolled his eyes “For the last time; Leave me the fuck alone Rhys”
Leo patted Drake in his back. “I would but that babe behind us,” he nodded at the mirror in the bar in front of Drake “Has been looking at you like a hunter to a deer since I came in, and her friend,” he said his eyes pointing at the dance floor, “It’s not bad at all.” Leo smiled maliciously. “Come on, Walker. Nothing to forget a woman, like another one”
Drake sighed. In the past, he would’ve done it. He would’ve walked straight to the blue-eyed blond and left with her, but that night he couldn’t. The memory of Alexis was too fresh in his mind, he couldn’t stand the thought of another woman’s smell, of another woman at all.
“Go Leo. I’m sure you can handle both of them” He called the bartender and order another bottle of whiskey.
56 notes · View notes
iawv · 4 years
Text
She Called Him Fen’Harel
For those who are interested, I would suggest re-read first chapter since it was re-written from scratch. Chapter 12 is still WIP.
Chapter 1 - “Falherna”
She came to the world on a bright morning, flooded with the orange light of the sunrise. Surrounded by the forest, the smell of trees and moss.
She came with ease, calmness, and silence.
She came to the world with death by her side and death took the first toll - her mother.
She came to the world with hope. Hope to be loved, caressed, nourished.
She came to the world into the warm hands, holding her, lulling her.
She came with sadness, with tears touching her cheeks. Tears of loss and pain.
She came to the world with curious, wide-open eyes, bright blue like the sky, red hair and delicately pointed ears.
She came to the world with innocence, pure heart, and goodness, like every new-born.
She came with a name — Celia — the name of someone already forgotten, someone who was lost to her before she knew it.
She came with no expectations of the world, of the people.
She came to the world which destroyed her, hardened her heart and toughen her skin.
* * *
She came to the world with all that was good, pure and all of that was gone.
The world offered her trials, tribulations, doubts, and frustrations.
The world she came to was violent, merciless, full of joy and sorrow, anguish and pain.
Nonetheless, the world gave her a man, her father, a promise of another tomorrow. The greatest gift of all that's what he was.
In the world without a home, he was her rock, her solitude, her teacher and her guardian.
The world is not dangerous because of those who do harm but because of those who look at it without doing anything, he reminded her.
Barefaced like her he had no home, no past, no clan. He belonged nowhere and everywhere.
Curious, bright blue eyes observed him and belonged with him — throughout the hands that held her when she was born, the warm voice calming her, his magic which he was wielding proudly, his dreams he described beautifully and his love which he shared endlessly with her.
The world destroyed her so she could be saved.
* * *
The world gave her magic — frightening, tingling sensation on the tips of her fingers. The power she knew but couldn't control, couldn't comprehend.
Her mind felt too tight, her body too small to contain it.
 I will teach you to control it, my daughter.
That he did.
* * *
Her father kept secrets. Secrets he shared only with his diary — a thick, leather notebook.
 It will be yours once I am gone, Celia. Be patient.
So she was.
Her father taught her patience.
He gave her travels — through forests, meadows, mountains, old ruins.
He gave her knowledge of reading and writing, of cities, villages, and clans. Knowledge of the history of the world, the language of ancient elves and skills to survive.
He gave her wolves, terrifying animals which she befriended.
He gave her Fen'Harel — the legend, the tale, the statues seen in many parts of the land and the man who once lived.
He gave her love — the fairytale she never knew and never felt.
You can't hurry love, force it.  When you love you just do, and you enjoy every second spent with them. Appreciate it cause loved one comes and go.
So she listened and believed him.
He gave her everything he could but still, he kept his secrets.
* * *
He took her to towns, taught how to stay hidden, how to speak with humans and trade with them. He taught her when to lie when, to tell the truth.
He taught her the mastery of cleverness — to lie with the truth.
He taught her when to speak and when to spare the words. He took her to city elves and Dalish.
He took her to many places that taught her the truth she already knew — she did not belong anywhere and everywhere.
He taught her the taste of blood and murder. He gave her a comparison between killing and surviving.
He did whatever he could to prepare her for the world.
He did not fail.
* * *
Dalish. Elves. People.
They gave her forced vallaslin to ground her to convince her she belongs, to release her from the influence of Fen'Harel.
They gave her a new name — Falherna. The anagram of the name of her beloved god.
He caught your scent a long time ago. You are doomed, they said.
Dalish taught her how to pitty them and avoid them, how to lie to them. They showed her their stubbornness, their fears, and superstitions.
They called her mad, abomination. To them she was dangerous.
Still, they violated her carnality. Act against her will. Once more the world destroyed her, so she could be saved.
* * *
Humans. Shemlens.
They killed her father, left her brokenhearted, burning with hatred. They stained her hands with blood, woke something dark and grim inside her - she took pleasure in killing them.
For the last time, the world destroyed her.
This time she could not be saved.
* * *
A blank page in her life history. A void no one and nothing could fill.
Her father's secrets stayed out of her reach. The only token of his was locked by a spell. She had left with nothing.
The dark time came. Weeks, months full of anger, guilt, hate.
Self-destruction was her desire. Loneliness reminded her every day about her loss.
Alienation was her choice. Longing after what was lost did not want to leave her.
She just was. Existing, breathing, observing, absorbing, functioning without interacting.
* * *
Fen. The wolf.
He came to her life in a forest on a day when life seemed senseless.
He gave her a second chance. A chance for redemption.
When they found each other, they were both wounded and alone.
He gave her her smile back, her heart and a purpose in life.
He saved her when the world did not care.
* * *
New life.
The world allowed her to start fresh.
She preferred forests, sleeping among the stars, but she traveled from one city to another. Making contacts, making deals which could be advantageous in the future.
She had two lives — one with Fen, one without him.
Necessity.
That's what kept her in cities and clans.
She was the outsider, one who showed up and then disappeared when the necessities were fulfilled.
* * *
The world gave her loneliness.
Life without a companion. She accepted it, learn to live with it.
Still, she loved with all her heart. She loved her wolf, loved nature, loved living. She loved the man who once lived — Fen'Harel. Dreams of him she kept close to her heart and the Fade sometimes responded to her unfulfilled desires. Responded with grey fur and steel-blue eyes. Lonely dreams were her companion. She knew she could go with life alone.
* * *
Faron. City elf. Assassin.
He occasionally drifted through her life. He seemed so young with his impatience, impulsivity, and temper.
Still, she liked him. His fierceness, laughter, his honesty.
He gave her friendship, new abilities, and companions.
A new profession. A group of men.
Men who did not blindly follow something that others defined as the truth.
Individuals who were not limited by morality or laws.
Their lives were brief and unimportant. The world cared nothing for them.
Her new friends allowed her to seek redemption, not revenge. Gave her a new weapon and new clothes. They opened her eyes to the cruelty she only heard of before.
They made her a part of something important and big. She felt important, strong.
The world seemed a better place for once. It almost felt like she belonged.
She felt saved.
* * *
Sabrae clan.
The light in the darkness.
She hunted for them, traded for them. Another necessity in her life but different from others.
Marethari. Keeper.
Woman of knowledge, open-minded, understanding.
She gave her a small flicker of hope. Hope for dialogue, respect, and connection between her and Dalish.
Yet the world had another plan — for some she still was a dangerous, mad outsider.
The world offered no peace, not even a short break.
She fought and endured. She was just a means to an end.
She accomplished her missions and left again. * * *
Kirkwall.
The city of chains — metaphorically and literally.
It gave her desperate need to run back to Fen, forests, mountains, and seas.
Necessity and Faron made her stay, and so she did.
Days seemed long and dirty. Nights were too loud and uncomfortable.
She did not complain. It was more she ever had — a bed, an armor, friends, and food.
The world gave her a break, peace of mind. For a time there was only a job, evenings with her crew and nights filled with dreams.
Yet, Kirkwall made her anxious.
Something was in the air. Something unsettling.
She blessed the world when she left it behind.
* * *
Now. The conclave.
Standing on a hill near the forest, she looked at the horizon thinking on Anders's actions, Merrill, The Keeper, and the people she left behind.
She shook her head at the thought. The world was about to change. The Conclave was near and the fate of all people depended on the negotiations, which were soon to begin.
She felt the upcoming danger, the air smelled of electricity as though before a storm, ozone was palatable in the growing wind and the sky had taken on a strange sea like color, neither blue nor green.
Templars and Mages were approaching from either side of the world, entrusting their hope in the Most Holy Divine Justinia, and in her idea to stop the conflict which had been growing more and more dangerous for months.
Fen howled loudly and his fur ruffled.
She patted his head, speaking quietly "I can feel it too, my friend".
Grey eyes lingered on her face for what felt like the longest time and her hand stayed on his back, petting and comforting the animal.
"You must go now. I'll find you, ma Fen" she kneeled beside him.
The wolf howled again touching her hand with his wet nose "Fen'Harel will guide you. We will meet again".
She petted him, delighted by the warmth of his body and roughness of his fur. She rose slowly, moving her gaze back to the horizon and to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.
"Go now" her voice was unyielding.
Goodbyes to the ones you love had to be made quickly, without unnecessary words.
The animal stayed at her side for another moment, then with a flick of his tail, he made his way slowly into the forest.
There was no need to watch over him.
The wolf knew how to find a way back to her.
In a few hours, she would meet him again, in the forest near Haven.
Her lips stretched into a smile when she thought about spending more time with her wolf.
The last mission was short ahead, and then she would be saved from the world for good.
20 notes · View notes
comicteaparty · 4 years
Text
Webcomic Recommendations
Check out this plethora of webcomic recommendations archived from Comic Tea Party’s Webcomic Recommendations Channel!
Nutty (Court of Roses)
Children of Shadow: Ashes https://spiderforest.com/comics/children-of-shadow-ashes/ Genre: Anthro/Horror/Urban Fantasy Trigger Warnings: Rated Mature for blood, gore, and intense scenes Reasons: Some of the most lovely pencil work I've ever seen, well-rendered animal art and a compelling world!(edited)
Heirs of the Veil https://spiderforest.com/comics/heirs-of-the-veil/ Genre: Drama/Urban Fantasy Trigger Warnings: Rated PG-16+ for transphobia, dysphoria, mental illness, blood, trauma, body horror Reasons: Absolutely gorgeous artwork, really compelling illustrations of the lgbt experience
Aloe https://spiderforest.com/comics/aloe/ Genre: Adventure/Drama/Sci-Fi Trigger Warnings: Rated Teen for violence and blood Reasons: I'm normally not into sci-fi but this comic is so bright and colorful, I really love it a lot. Also the main character is non-binary!
Millennium https://spiderforest.com/comics/millennium/ Genre: Adventure/Fantasy/Sci-fi Trigger Warnings: Rated PG-13 for Mild Violence and Mild Language Reasons: Lovely art, fun characters, and an engaging space world! I love it so so much.
Sombulus https://spiderforest.com/comics/sombulus/ Genre: Adventure/Comedy/Fantast Trigger Warnings: Rated Young Adult, no warnings Reasons: An absolute blast, super fun story and characters, with a nice long archive too!
Arbalest https://spiderforest.com/comics/arbalest/ Genre: Fantasy/Horror Trigger Warnings: Rated Mature for partial nudity, blood/gore, sex, themes of abuse Reasons: A really compelling story in a non-traditional narrative style, and super spooky to boot.
And finally, to top this off, I'll drop in my own comic as well! Court of Roses https://spiderforest.com/comics/court-of-roses/ Genre: Adventure/Fantasy/Comedy Trigger Warnings: Rated Teen, for Fantasy Violence and Alcohol Use Reasons: Because this is my comic and it's my pride and joy and I love my bards a lot. :3
AntiBunny
Dead Winter http://deadwinter.cc/ Genre: Zombie Apocalypse Trigger Warnings: Violent Reasons: Well it's a straightforward zombie survival comic. What's impressive is how well the artist has studied comics as an art form and put thought and purpose into every panel.
HiddenElephant
http://welcome2earth.webcomic.ws/ Snarky alien crashes onto Earth. Not enough people are reading it in my opinion.
snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)
Super Galaxy Knights Deluxe R: http://sgkdr.thecomicseries.com/ Genre: Action, Comedy Trigger Warnings: Blood, Dismemberment Reasons: A recommendation for @Goobatron . It's my comic. The creator is me. Super Galaxy Knights is a story about Mizuki Sato, who goes on adventures through a strange world, making friends along the way. The dialogue is like... 70% banter, 30% total non-sequiturs. The art style uses 3D models, in like a weird cel-shaded style that's meant to be reminiscent of games like Wind Waker and Dragon Ball FighterZ. And there's also a bunch of animated panels/pages. There's also a ton of really strange characters. Like there's a dude whose power is that he always wins knife fights. There's a wizard who shrinks hot dogs and carries them around in capsules. Etc. One warning - the early pages are a bit rough-looking. Some have been redrawn recently, but others haven't yet, so it can be a bit jarring to go back and forth between styles.
Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)
Clockwork http://www.clockwork-comic.com/ Genre: Fantasy / Drama CW: Some language and violence Clockwork is a comic about Cog Kleinshmidt, a moody teenager with an uncanny talent for repairing machinery. He feels he’s a nobody, but is swept into the turbulent world of politics, and is forced to learn magic in a world where magic is strictly forbidden. The art in this comic is incredibly polished and lively, and the characters are all instantly endearing. The writing is also top-notch. The first time I read it, I was completely sucked in after only a few pages. It’s currently on hiatus while the creator prepares the next chapter, but it’s well worth the wait.(edited)
Moral_Gutpunch
Micheal Morbius: Freelance Vampire http://freelancevampire.thecomicseries.com/ Genre: Drama, comedy Trigger: mentions of death and violence, talk of abusive relationships, mention of rape. It's all in dialog. Micheal Morbius, from Marvel comics, struggles to adjust to a as normal a life as a vampire can have. He helps a friend get back on her feet, he goes through therapy, and he's visited by Spider-heroes, this time a new one. Meanwhile, a true monster lurks int he shadows. The art isn't good, but the story and dialog are worth it. It's my comic. I hope after I get a few more pages going people will enjoy the story. It's a story I've been wanting to write for ages and I figured I'm not going to write for Marvel anytime soon (yes, I checked copyright law, Marvel allows this). Dedicated to Stan Lee.
Pakky
The Boy Who Fell http://boywhofell.com/ Genre: Drama, Adventure, Action, Comedy TW: Violence, blood, fighting, ptsd, suicide, death Synopsis (from the website): The Boy Who Fell revolves around an innocent, softhearted and almost-spineless boy named Ren who suddenly finds himself in Hell after accidentally falling off a school rooftop. He is then forced to partake in a tournament full of powerful and vicious beings in order to attain his only way of going home: an all-powerful wish from the ruler of Hell himself. As the story progresses, lines between allies and enemies are blurred, dark pasts are revealed, political issues come to light and all the while, Ren slowly realizes that in order to survive this journey, he might have to give up the very things that make him human I love this webcomic and have been following this artist for over 10 years now and recommend their work to anyone who will listen haha! Super long running webcomic with a well developed storyline and world.
Shizamura 🌟 O Sarilho
Broken http://broken.spiderforest.com/ Genre: Horror Trigger Warnings: Military, death, monsters Reasons: Broken offers a very interesting twist on the concepts of fairies, presenting you with a fairy general on the battlefield fighting against corrupted abominations. The concepts and worldbuilding here are very interesting and the battle/action scenes are great. Often makes use of animation and some HTML/CSS for extra effect. Of Magic and Muses https://xiicomic.com/magic-and-muses/ Genre: Magical Girls, mystery Trigger Warnings: There's a big monster at some point? Reasons: It's a magical girl story! Except nobody knows what's happening, the powers the girls get are maybe not of a friendly nature and they wear armor? The escalation of events is suberb. It has a large (and growing) cast, but each character has their own unique personality, making them super easy to follow and love. Ghost Junk Sickness https://www.ghostjunksickness.com/ Genre: action, sci-fi Trigger Warnings: violence, limb loss, death Reasons: There's a lot to be said about this comic! I really like the characters, who are deeply flawed and charming and make a lot of mistakes (the main duo having an especially interesting, yet sorta problematic dynamic). The worldbuilding is interesting and quirky to match. The mysterious bounty The Ghost is a looming presence, and apparently we'll be learning more about them soon. Super exciting and fun action scenes too!
Desnik
https://monsterhead.net/ Genre: LGBT+ American rural occult fantasy Trigger Warnings: Animal death, mild body horror Reasons: The author/artist is an OC-loving member of the LGBT+ community, and her work deals with self-love in the face of weird circumstances. Love the colors, Carter is an appealing and relatable main character, and the worldbuilding is something I've never seen before.
LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)
http://www.phantomarine.com/ Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural Trigger Warnings: Death, Mild Body Horror, Mild Violence, Mild Language Reasons: ...This is my comic! (edited)
Phantomarine is a spooky-but-sweet fantasy webcomic about a ghostly princess and her perilous journey across a haunted sea, hoping to save her soul from a devious, shapeshifting death god known as the Red Tide King. Expect all manner of maritime mysteries – monstrous sea creatures, sacred lighthouses, strange afflictions, accursed marauders, feuding gods, grand sea battles, and a heaping helping of humor in-between.
eliushi [Keyspace]
https://tapas.io/series/KEYSPACE-A-Winged-Tale/ https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/keyspace-a-winged-tale/list?title_no=322364 Genre: YA Science Fantasy, LGBT+ Trigger warnings: Mild body horror/violence/monsters, death Reasons: My comic Blurb: Florence thought her idyllic life living with the winged beings would last forever. However, when her mother disappears from a mysterious expedition, she fears for the worst. Through exploring hidden laboratory tunnels beneath the forest, facing Machines from a century-long war against humans, and seeking guidance from the Lost people from a civilization gone by, Flo and her winged friends must piece together the past in order to save all those they love.
Shizamura 🌟 O Sarilho
O Sarilho https://www.sarilho.net/en Genre: Post-Apocaliptic/Sci-fi Trigger Warnings: War, military, death Reasons: I make it Short description: A small team goes on a mission to enemy territory to find the remains of an ancient satellite and they end up finding a lot more. There are computers and dams and electricity-worshipping future romans (edited)
GGY
Tile: Over 8 Miles https://tapas.io/episode/859067 Genre: Drama, Comedy, Slice of Life Reasons I make it: Cause its fun and I enjoy sharing the existence of my characters and their life outside my brain
Emma (Friends or Lovers?)
Dreamwalker Felix by KT and TK https://tapas.io/series/Dreamwalker-Felix and https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/dreamwalker-felix/list?title_no=182487 Genre: Fantasy/Supernatural Trigger Warnings: There's some body horror in there Reasons: The art is just beautiful, and it has tons of funny moments Friends or Lovers? by yours truly https://tapas.io/series/friendsorlovers and https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/friends-or-lovers/list?title_no=49520 Genre: Romance/school slice of life Trigger Warnings: Mentions and depictions of bullying Reasons: It's my comic, so I'll just quote a reader: "Your comic is more accurate to real teens in love in high school than most. It's really good stuff"
keii’ii (Heart of Keol)
Earth in a Pocket http://earthinapocket.spiderforest.com/ Genre: Retro Sci-fi, Iyashikei Trigger Warnings: none Reasons: This comic posted its final page very recently! It's a relatively short read; very gentle and hopeful without being cavity-causingly sweet. The creator has put together such a heartwarming story that I've been adoring for a while. One of my faves, now complete!
renieplayerone
O Human Star https://ohumanstar.com/ Genre: Scifi, Robots, Drama TW: Dysphoria, Depression Reasons: The characters are so well written and emotional, plus I love the simplistic color palette. They get across the journey of self-discovery in such an interesting way.(edited)
carcarchu
Arcane Flames https://tapas.io/series/Arcane-Flames Genre: Fantasy Trigger Warnings: death? Reasons: I've been following kutty sark for many years now and I've really been looking forward to this comic which I'm pleased to say even exceeded my expectations. Fantastic art and the tone of the story is just lovely, i adore al'vis
Eightfish (Puppeteer)
https://sfeertheory.com/ The art is incredible. Every character, even the background ones, is full of personality. I love a good underdog story, and Luca's speech in chapter three made me scream into my hands and tear up. I can't recommend it highly enough
Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)
http://secondcrimeanwar.thecomicseries.com/
The Second Crimean War is a powerful and fun story in an alternate 1990s decade in Ukraine. The art is black and white and improves in leaps and bounces as you move on in the story! The story itself draws you in from page one. There's suspense, there's (black) humor, there's atmosphere and adventure. Highly recommended if you like war/action/suspense.
varethane
Have you ever read Nasty Red Dogs? https://nastyreddogs.com/
oh golly, haha
yeah, it's a fun and twisted and surreal little tale, the early parts especially are like walking through a really bizarre dream that if you describe it, it ought to be called a nightmare, but at the moment you're in it, it doesn't FEEL like one lol
the creator also does a comic called Feast For A King, which I think is more well-known but I haven't read yet (will at some point tho): https://feastforaking.com/comic/
kelly-zine
Title: Zyra Slash Genre: Sci-Fi, Comedy, Slice-Of-Life TW: None (for right now at least, it just started!) Reasons: I love Alex and their characters so much! ZS is a project I’ve been following and chatting with them about for a long time and it’s amazing to see it come to fruition. I think you’ll like it too. (Note that it’s on hiatus at the moment!) https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/zyra-slash/list?title_no=373763
keii’ii (Heart of Keol)
Title: Ark https://www.arkcomic.com/ Genre: Fantasy, Drama, Anthro TW: violence (nothing heavy yet, but my Spider Senses are tingling) Reasons: A 1920s-inspired, extremely believable fantasy setting. Hints of racial tension and a possible war brewing on the horizon. It's pretty early in the story, so hop in and claim the front row seats for this gorgeously illustrated comic! (edited)
Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]
Tamberlane https://www.tamberlanecomic.com/ Genre: slice of life, heartwarming, Anthro It has a cast of colourful characters. Charming story of a clumsy bat named Belfry who adopts a little human. Various animal neighbors to love
Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]
I found one of the Chinese webcomics I use to follow, is now on Webtoons. They rename the title to: The Emperor's New Body because it's about body swapping and has interesting depth while some silly hijinks https://tapas.io/series/the-emperors-new-body(edited)
trinketfox
May as well rec my first ever favorite webcomic! Warrior U! https://warrior-u-thecomic.tumblr.com/ It's so expressive and funny that I've always wished it would become a show on cartoon network or something. Only the first few pages are still up on this tumblr since the official site is down, but all chapters are on the artist's gumroad!
It's an episodic comedy fantasy that goes from page-long gags to full episodes. Reccomended for it's humor and a really fun art style.
SteffieMusings
Nebula Beings https://tapas.io/series/Nebula-Beings Genre: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror/Thriller Trigger Warnings: Violence, scary imagery (especially in chapter 7), talks/implied past abuse Reasons: It's a fun series and the two main characters learn to overcome challenges during their travels.(edited)
Eightfish (Puppeteer)
http://humoncomics.com/elftaken-1
Very short comic about the fae!
shadowhood {SunnyxRain}
For anyone who wants really strong character development/plot/art in general, I’m recommending Heir’s Game https://www.webtoons.com/en/drama/heirs-game/list?title_no=1445 For slapstick humor and characters with strong platonic bonds I give you Waffles and Pancakes https://www.webtoons.com/en/slice-of-life/waffles-and-pancakes/list?title_no=1310 And because why not, and if you like Victorian romance with a cute bickering couple, I give you Miss Abbott and the Doctor https://www.webtoons.com/en/romance/miss-abbott-and-the-doctor/list?title_no=707
LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)
Encephalon Genre: Sci-Fi, Horror Trigger Warnings: Blood, Gore, Strong Language A rescue crew sent to an abandoned space station comes face-to-face with a bio-computer experiment gone horribly wrong. A sci-fi webcomic with body-horror elements. Very creepy stuff! It's just getting started, but after seeing the rest of the story in thumbnail form (my IRL friend is the making it), it's going to AWESOME places. Please check it out! https://encephalon-comic.com/
Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]
This is: Mirror Mirror for 'Brain' short story contest entry. The 1st ep caught my eye and I'm invested in it https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/mirror-mirror-b/list?title_no=427186(edited)
carcarchu
https://www.lezhin.com/en/comic/freak Genre: fantasy Trigger Warnings: violence? Reasons: sakon's art is brilliant and incredibly consistent. season 1 is now available to read for free!
sagaholmgaard
Genre: Supernatural, urban fantasy, slice of life Trigger Warnings: Maybe abusive parents? idk i feel like it will be explored in the future Reasons: I love the art style and the latest chapter have some CHAOTIC ENERGY and im living for it!! https://tapas.io/series/bygonesbe
GGY
Just got back from hiatus! If y’all are interested in some slice of life + comedy drama I’d like to share my webcomic Over 8 Miles: https://tapas.io/series/O8M/ep39
carcarchu
Veni Vidi Vici https://vevivi.blog.fc2.com/blog-entry-1.html Genre: slice of life, comedy Reasons: reading this comic feels so comfy and it reminds me of being in roman studies class again. you can really see the love and care that Ruby has put into this comic and her passion for ancient rome is really on full display in this work
Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]
This is the comic books for Cafe Suada I used to read way back. It's a fun slice of life about a teahouse shop keeper rivals with a coffee shop manager https://tapas.io/series/Cafe-Suada The artist used some traditonal tea staining for the textures. The story inspired me to draw my own slice of life series(edited)
sierrabravo (Hans Vogel is Dead)
The Strange Tale of Oscar Zahn https://www.webtoons.com/en/fantasy/the-strange-tales-of-oscar-zahn/list?title_no=685&page=1 Genre: Paranatural Investigation with just a dash of Cosmic Horror Kinda spooky, some light/fantasy violence From the website: Follow the journey of the world's greatest paranormal investigator - Oscar Zahn. Friend to lost souls, enemy of evil, he may lack a body but that doesn't mean he's missing a heart! The art is INCREDIBLE, the tone is really fun with some neat Hellboy vibes, it's complete and it's a good binge read. I really enjoyed it!
carcarchu
Short story about a cat, make sure you've got tissues ready https://akimiya.tumblr.com/post/129049384624
boogeymadam
just caught up with wychwood and it's such a huge treat!! there's some amazingly fun worldbuilding, a lot of intrigue about how the protagonists came to have the powers they do, and the motives behind the things that made the world the way it is * _ * it's also got soooo many pretty derelict environments, cool creature design and fun training montages! http://wychwood.sevensmith.net/comic/1
Yung Skrimp (Carefree)
I started reading Cloven Hearth, it’s interesting and has a really cool art style
https://twitter.com/ruinationcomics/status/1254126660007399425?s=21(edited)
carcarchu
Hana and Mr. Arrogant https://www.ciayo.com/en/comic/hana-mr-arrogant Genre: romance Reasons: Easy breezy read, with nice art and a super likeable heroine! Nothing we've never seen before, but delivered with genuine heart that makes it stand out
LabsZach
This one esp, with the greenery shifting into dirt, roots, and mushrooms, and how it compliments the figures on it is just aces. https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/cloven-hearth/touch-of-the-divine/viewer?title_no=396780&episode_no=14
boogeymadam
recently binged malverav's comic Love and War and it is sooo satisfying, about 2 competitors in a medieval tournament involving jousting, archery and more! The banter between Svanhildur and Marinelle had me grinning a lot. Also, it's a wlw rivals-to-lovers romance aka a GREAT kinda love story!! (my favorite kind ) it's on tapas https://tapas.io/series/Love-and-War/info
carcarchu
cronaj's sports comment got me thinking about this and how damn good it is https://tapas.io/episode/968762 Genre: Sports, drama Reasons: it's insanely creative and the art is so intense, i found it extremely memorable and powerful to read(edited)
carcarchu
Came across this stunning webtoon today. It was originally published on taiwanese webtoon and the author has decided to tl into english to share with a wider audience https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/intertidal/list?title_no=371176 Really gorgeous traditionally drawn comic and a lovely poetic writing style
carcarchu
the winner of this year's eisners awards for best webcomic. definitely worth checking out! https://friedricecomic.com/
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slashhinginghasher · 4 years
Text
Midnight Star - Chromeskull x OFC - Part 4: Half A Ghost
Summary: When things don’t go to plan, you change the plan.
AKA a nice helping of backstory with a side order of Jesse being a horny freak.
This story is on Ao3!
None of this was going the way he’d planned.
Granted, the plan was fairly light on details - most of which revolved around turning the bitch into a human Picasso - but it was still a plan, god damn it, and none of those details involved him sulking in his office and pretending the ache in his balls was just from her well-placed kick (lucky hit) and not the lingering taste of her blood in his mouth. For someone who was all skin and bones, she was surprisingly strong. Put a little meat on her and she’d probably be a tiny terror. And despite how scrawny she was, he had to admit she’d looked positively fucking edible like that, all pink-flushed and trembling (even if it was just heatstroke). Small wonder he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her--
Fuck.
There were already rumors floating around the organization that he was going soft, thanks to that cocksucker Preston. Some quick knife work had easily convinced the man to drop the subject, but whispers had a way of... lingering. The organization was still recovering from the Miami debacle a couple years back. It had taken more money than he’d liked to make that particular police investigation disappear.. Between the amnesiac hooker melting his face off and Veronica blowing her brains out in FBI custody, the last thing he needed was to be seen slavering over yet another piggy like a horny teenager.
Fucking Veronica.
She was the last time he’d taken work home with him. The mind games had been fun at first, and having clean pussy on demand was a definite plus. But he’d grown tired of playing at domesticity, of making blatantly false promises (of course I don’t touch the other girls, baby, only you). Boredom led to stupid choices. A kid? Jesse was a man of many talents, but fatherhood was not one of them, especially with a simpering little ex-piggy as the mother. Veronica’s suicide was probably the only good thing to come out of that mess.
But he hadn’t thought of Veronica in over a year, and the fact that he was now just served to piss him off even further. The situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. He had half a mind to storm back down to the basement and snap the bitch’s skinny neck, just to be done with all of it. He was almost out the door when his computer chimed with an email notification.
From: [email protected] Subject: Found her Attachment: marpol.zip
And just like that, boiling rage gave way to an intense, almost electric curiosity. After the initial encounter, he’d sent a picture of the girl to his team with orders to dig up everything they could about her. Now, it seemed, they’d hit pay-dirt. With a slight quiver of anticipation, Jesse eased himself into his leather desk chair and opened the email.
Name: Marena Polunochnaya Age: 23 (alleged) DOB: Unknown Place of birth: Unknown (native Russian speaker) Relatives: Unknown Education: Unknown
What the fuck? That was it? Jesse snarled, ready to throw the laptop across the room and put A. Gallagher’s head on a pike. He clicked open the attachment with a little more force than necessary and was surprised when dozens of files, arranged chronologically, appeared on the screen. The earliest file (a brief police report about an altercation outside a south Miami bar) was dated from four years ago. Before that, nothing. 
Little miss Marena Polunochnaya, it seemed, was half a ghost.
And the other half was a little hellion, he thought, scrolling through what seemed like an inordinate number of police reports. Theft, both petty and vehicular, vandalism, street racing, underage drinking, trespassing, assault and battery, minor arson, justifiable homicide…
Wait, what?!
He couldn’t open the file fast enough. Apparently, the girl had been the victim of an attempted mugging three years prior. According to the court reports, she had killed the mugger in self-defense, sustaining a stab wound in the process. And there was video footage: a security camera outside a club caught the entire thing.
Click.
The footage was surprisingly high-quality for a security cam, although the low light still made the picture a little grainy. A familiar little dark-haired figure walked into the alley and was grabbed by a larger figure with a bandana wrapped around the lower half of its face. The mugger pinned the girl to the wall with his forearm and pulled out a knife. There was no sound, but Jesse didn’t need dialogue to enjoy the show. The girl was making placating gestures with her hands, likely promising cooperation. The idiot eased his hold on her and was immediately gifted with a frankly beautiful left hook. His knife hand lashed out, he staggered back, and the girl was doubled over with the knife buried in her rib cage. By body language, the mugger seemed shocked; he probably hadn’t been expecting a fight or planning on actually using the knife for more than intimidation. The girl stumbled forward a step, hand held out as though pleading for help.
And then.
God.
She pulled the knife out of her chest and slammed it home in the mugger’s throat, ripping it open in a glorious arc of arterial spray. The mugger dropped, convulsed a couple times, and was still. The girl leaned heavily against the wall and pressed a hand against the growing dark patch on her side, presumably staying there until the cops arrived on the scene.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
If he hadn’t been hard before (he had been), he sure as fuck was now. Jesse watched the video again. Again. Again. He dragged a hand over his growing grin, trying to ignore the uncomfortable tightness of his slacks. He was only about a quarter of the way through the files, and curiosity won out over arousal. He kept scrolling.
After the failed mugging, the girl was admitted to some do-gooder program for “at-risk repeat offenders” under the sponsorship and care of one Dr. Linda Malloy. The program’s website sported pictures of gleaming dormitories and spacious gardens, along with promises of education, vocational training, and therapy for “reintegration into society.” The whole thing was disgustingly optimistic and upbeat, and Jesse almost laughed at the thought of the scraggly wildcat in his basement sitting in one of those plush offices.
Dr. Linda Malloy kept extensive notes. Two and a half years’ worth, to be exact. Many of them were dense with psychobabble and medical jargon that Jesse didn’t have the patience to decipher, so he skimmed them, letting his attention fall on whatever caught his eye.
“...shows clear signs of PTSD - insomnia, night terrors, mistrust of authority, violent reactions to unexpected or unwanted physical contact, frequent dissociative states - but refuses to share any information about the events which may have caused her condition…”
“...had to be sedated after refusing to sleep for four days straight and threatening a staff member with dismemberment…”
“...locked herself in the maintenance shed and was found trying to sharpen her teeth with a screwdriver and a metal file…”
“...continues to meet all overtures of friendliness with aggression or by resolutely ignoring the other party…”
“...refused to speak English the entire session. Later translation shows she was parroting my questions back to me in Russian….”
“...did not move, speak, or make eye contact for the entire session…”
“...regarding her habit of ripping pages out of her journal and burning them after writing on them. I asked her about it one day, and she said thoughts cannot return once they’ve been turned to ash. I asked how she had discovered that, and she simply replied ‘Hana.’ When I asked her who Hana was, her eyes widened, as though she had made a mistake, before her entire manner turned cold and she walked away….”
“...had to lock her in her room at night to keep her from breaking into and sleeping in the walk-in freezer…”
Jesse had never been one for novels - couldn’t see the point in spending hours reading about fake shit - but he could’ve read this shit all day. Amazing how so much fucked-upness could fit into one tiny person. He wondered how she’d ever conned her way into getting discharged until he read a little further and saw that funding for the program had been cut, forcing the “residents” out into the world despite the many protests of the staff.
Information was light after that. She paid for a shitty studio apartment with cash that she must’ve gotten from an under-the-table job. Her run-ins with the police were few and far in between. Jesse didn’t blame her for keeping a low profile after escaping Mayberry Asylum. He wouldn’t want to be stuck in a hellhole like that either. (Of course, now she was stuck in his basement, which probably seemed like another hellhole to her. Oh well.) The final file was dated from three weeks ago.
It was a warrant for her arrest on charges of quadruple homicide.
Jesse inhaled so sharply he nearly choked on it. His eyes darted over the preliminary report. Girl seen entering a penthouse apartment with four men. Noise complaints from downstairs neighbors around 4 am. Police arrive on scene to find three corpses, one almost-corpse, and no girl. No one had seen her leave.
There were pictures. Jesse’s hands were practically shaking with excitement as he opened them.
The first corpse had been pushed down the stairs, his neck bent at a terrible angle and blood seeping from his crushed skull. The second had been stabbed repeatedly with a broken bottle until his face and throat looked like raw hamburger. The third was a mess of chemical burns. The coroner’s report said he’d been drowned in a bathtub full of cleaning chemicals. The fourth man had been bludgeoned with a wooden baseball bat, half the vertebrae in his neck and back shattered. He’d died in the hospital two days later.
Oh, someone has been very, very naughty.
The urge to cleave her little skull in two was rapidly being replaced by the urge to rail her until she forgot her own name. It probably wouldn’t take long, he mused. The name was bigger than the girl. He pulled up the video feed from the basement and was greeted with the sight of her retching miserably over the grate in the floor. Right. Head injury. Drugs. Dehydration. She probably wouldn’t survive the fucking she had coming to her in her current condition, and Jesse now had a very keen interest in keeping her alive. He sent a quick message to his medical team before reopening the footage of the failed mugging.
The best way to regain control of the situation, after all, was to admit that the situation had changed.
The relief he felt as he freed his aching cock was nearly as powerful as an orgasm. Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he was this hard. He ran his thumb over the head, letting out a shuddering breath as he gathered the precum beading on the tip. He began to pump the shaft in slow, firm strokes and let his imagination run wild.
He’d tie her down, of course. No way his devious little doll would remain still long enough for him to fully enjoy her. He’d trace his tongue over every goddamn scar on her body, over her hardened nipples and the sharp points of her hips and that handy little panic button carved into her neck. Then he’d turn his attention to her tight little pussy, keeping her on the edge until she was writhing and swearing and begging for it. Then, only then, he’d make her taste herself on his lips as he slid into her tight, wet heat, fucking her hard and fast until she screamed herself hoarse.
Jesse came with a silent groan and the first real smile he’d had since Princess Fuckin’ Gemstone obliterated his face.
Marena Polunochnaya.
He rolled the name over his tongue. It tasted like blood.
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acdeaky · 5 years
Text
five ways
john’s birthday week - part 7
warning: fluff, angst, dialogue heavy at parts, foul language
note: i hope you’ve enjoyed john’s special birthday week! i really enjoyed writing some of these in the past week (even though it was a little stressful!) thank you for all the support forever and always xoxo
word count: 2.6k
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1. (1964)
“deaky, no!” you squealed as john chased you around the garden. it was summer, and after the big freeze of 1963, everyone was happy to finally be feeling some heat. it was the second day of the summer holidays for you both, and you were enjoying as much time together as possible.
“i’m gonna get you!” john called after you, trying to move his legs faster so he could catch up to you. your little legs were moving as fast as they could to get away from john (who had threatened to tickle you once he caught you). he knew how badly ticklish you were, so threatening tickles meant hell for you.
“deaky, i’m gonna trip!” you worried as you found yourself running down the cracked path towards the front of john’s house. it had been broken for years. john’s father had always made an example that he was going to fix it, but when he passed away suddenly, no one had the heart to fix it; it was like the path was one of the last things of john’s father.
“be careful then!” he chattered, laughing still as he seemed to be catching up with you. it wasn’t long until what you had feared came true. your entire body flew forward as your toe had just caught the edge of a tile. your knees scraped against the ground as your hands flew in front of you to prevent your head from hitting the hard concrete.
john stopped right beside you as you laid on the floor, your hair sticking to your tears and covering your face.
“Y/N!” he gasped, dropping to his knees to help you up. he grabbed under your arm and pulled you up as gently as he could. you managed to sit on your bottom, both of your legs stretched in front of you, scraped and bleeding. your hands were slightly marked, too, but they didn’t hurt as much as your knees did.
“i’ll go get my mum.” john fussed, his hand moving your hair out of your face and wiping your tears (which was quickly replaced by fresh ones). he jumped up, rushed inside and called his mother. lilian grabbed the first aid kit while john grabbed you some tissues. once they came outside, they kneeled on opposite sides of you, john near your head and lilian by your knees.
john’s mum was talking to you, but you couldn’t fully hear over your tears and the pain. a scraped knee wasn’t bad, but to you, it was the worst pain you’ve experienced in your young life. john sat and wiped your tears everytime they fell from your eyes as his mum cleaned your cuts, disinfected them and placed a plaster on each knee to stop the bleeding.
it took about five minutes and your tears, not your pain, had stopped. john and lilian helped you stand and held your hands as you hobbled into the house. they sat you down on the sofa, john sitting next to you and lilian going to get you both a cup of water and a snack. john wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently so you were leaning against his side.
your head resting against his shoulder as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “are you okay, bug?”
“yeh, better now.” you nodded, smiling slightly at the nickname that had happened because you had a small fascination with a bug once. john turned his head slightly, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. your smile grew bigger slightly as you seemed to move closer to john (if that was even possible).
“you’re my best friend, bug.”
2. (1969)
“but do you have to go? you’ll be so far away.” you whined as john packed the car with his suitcases. it was late august and john was attended university, a whole two hours away from you.
“bug, it’s the best place for what i want to do. the uni is praised on its science and technology courses and i can’t miss out. i want to be the best electrical engineer there ever has been.” he placed himself on a podium as he lifted his last bag into the boot.
“you can be the best electrical engineer no matter where you go, deaks. you’re so smart and amazing at what you do already, it won’t matter what uni you’re at.”
“bug, please. i’m going, don’t make it any harder than it has to be.” he sighed facing you and holding your hands gently.
“i’m sorry, i’m just gonna miss you, that’s all. after ten years we won’t be neighbours anymore. you’ll be swanning around uni while i’m here working for another year.” you both laughed at that. john being a year older than you sometimes had its perks, but at times like this, a whole year seemed like a lifetime.
“i’m gonna miss you, too, love. i know it’ll be hard, but you can visit me on weekends or when you have time off work and i’ll be home every holiday, you’ll be wanting to get rid of me!”
“i’ll never want rid of you, deaky.” you smiled brightly, pulling him forwards and into your arms. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. john did the same, but with his arms around your waist. your head he snuggled its way into his neck as he rested his chin on top of your shoulder.
“i’ll see you soon, bug. you’re my best friend.”
3. (1971)
“you made it!” john smiled widely as he saw you backstage. it was queen’s first ever gig as the four of them and you weren’t going to miss it for the world.
“of course i made it!” you replied, opening your arms as you walked towards john. he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around. both of you giggled loudly, smiling wider than you have before.
john soon put you down, realising spinning equals being dizzy. he kept his body holding yours, pulling you impossibly closer to his body as he held you tightly. “i’ve missed you so much, bug.” he mumbled into your shoulder.
“i’ve missed you so much, too, deaky, but it’s only been a couple of months.”
“so i cant miss my best friend now, is that what you’re telling me?” he teased, his fingers beginning to dig into your sides.
“no, no! i was just saying- deaky, don’t!” he pressed harder. “john richard, i swear to god.” he laughed at your worry and your attempts at escaping his grasp.
the only reason you stopped was because a loud cough erupted behind you. you and john practically pushed yourselves away from each other, creating a distance you so desperately didn’t want.
you looked to see the band who john played with that night. what a great first impression.
“i see you’ve found your friend, deaky,” the short one with dark brown wavy hair said. “i’m freddie, darling. freddie mercury.” he stuck his hand out to shake yours. you were apprehensive at first, but john nudged your arm, encouraging you to shake freddie’s hand.
“and i’m brian may.” the tallest one with dark brown curly hair spoke, reaching his hand out to do the same.
“and i’m roger taylor, but you can call me tonight.” the shorter one with beautiful blond hair spoke, taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss on it.
“oh, come off it, rog. can’t you see she’s smitten with john?” freddie spoke, motioning to the closeness of you and john. you weren’t smitten with john. maybe you were, but you weren’t about to openly admit that.
“i’m not- there’s nothing- me and john-”
“we’re friends guys, best friends.”
4. (1975)
“thank god you’re here, bug,” john sighed, pulling you in to a tight hug as soon as you had walked on the bus. “i don’t know how much longer i could deal with those fuckers for.”
“deaky, it’s been two hours at the most!” you giggled, accepting the hug and pulling him closer to you.
“i know that, but they’ve already been... difficult.”
“in what way?” you asked, pulling away from his embrace, but keeping your hands on his shoulders.
“they- they’re just-,” his fingers fumbled around on your hips, pulling them closer to his own. “i- there’s, well there’s this girl-”
“oh.”
“what?” he noticed the quiver in your voice. “what? no, no, bug-”
“no, john, carry on. it’s okay. just tell me.” your hips were still joined together, but your hands hand slid down from his shoulders onto his biceps.
“okay, well, there’s this girl and i’ve known her for a while and when the boys mention her or i talk about her, i can’t help be blush and think about how beautiful she is.”
“oh, john.” there was nothing else you could think of to say. you let go of his arms, pulling yourself out of his grasp and away from him. his hand reached out to grab you, but you simply pushed him away.
“bug, listen-”
“john, please. don’t.”
“bug, it’s you. it’s always been you,” he grabbed your hand, but you still wouldn’t look at him. “it’s been you since i met you. Y/N, please. look at me.”
the desperation in his voice was something you couldn’t ignore. you turned your entire body back towards john, looking him directly in the eyes.
“it’s you. the girl i talk about, the girl i think about, the girl that makes me blush. it’s you.”
you pushed towards him, your arms wrapping themselves around john’s neck like they have done for years. his hands found your hips again, pushing your bodies closer together.
“i thought i was just your best friend?” your foreheads touching, lips ghosting over the other’s.
“always have, always will be my best friend, bug.”
5. (1977)
“ah!” freddie exclaimed, his arms opening to you as soon as you walked into their hospitality room. “we’ve been waiting for you, darling.” he brought you close to him, hugging you tightly.
“you only saw me the other week, fred,” you giggled, pulling away from him. “what’s so special about this time you’re seeing me?” the glint in his eye told you john was involved. if anything happened between you and john (or even if he just saw you and john together), freddie would get all happy and excited, the usual glint in his eyes brightening.
“ah, you see, this time john isn’t here so we have you all to ourselves!”
“very funny, fred. where’s john?” you playfully rolled your eyes and freddie gave you a knowing look.
“lover boy is on the stage.”
“i thought he had finishing rehearsing?” all freddie did was shake his head. you looked at brian and roger for any indication as to what was going on, but they gave away nothing. looking back at freddie, he had a beaming smile on his face.
“aren’t you going to find him?”
“you,” you pointed directly at freddie as you stood in the doorway, “are scaring me more than usual.” freddie simply laughed, his smile seemingly wider. with one last look at the three of them, you left the hospitality room, winding down corridor upon corridor to find your way to the stage.
it was dark when you arrived. none of the stage lights or arena lights were on, creating a daunting atmosphere.
“john!” you called out, quickly doubting if he was even there. no answer came, only a light. right in front of you, it was illuminating an area sprinkled with rose petals. as soon as you stepped into the light, it moved, revealing a long trail of petals and a few polaroid photos of you and john througout the years. each time you passed one, you picked it up, stopping periodically to remember the fond memory.
the trail continued, the light still guiding you on the stage. as soon as you reached the end, you saw a polaroid of you and john the previous week. it had been taken by freddie of the two of you saying goodbye for another few weeks. tears stained both of your cheeks while you smiled happily together. even though you were about to leave the other, the happiness was real, and you could vividly remember the teary goodbye.
as soon as you looked up from the polaroid, a couple more lights had been turned on, revealing john holding a bouquet of yellow roses, his hand nonchalantly in his pocket. you smiled widely when you saw him. he gave you a smile, as equally big, back.
“hi, love.” he said, shifting in his position slightly.
“hi, deaks.” you bit your lip, stopping your grin from growing too big.
“i- uh, th-these are for you.” he held out the bouquet, promoting you to move closer to him.
“thank you,” you smiled, taking the roses from him and smelling them. “they’re gorgeous, deaky.”
“Y/N,” john started, taking his hand out of his pocket and kneeling down, opening a black velvet box to reveal the mose beautiful silver and diamond ring you’ve ever seen, “ive waited my entire life for this moment. the day i met you, i knew you’d be in my life forever. and now i’m going to make sure that happens.” he chuckled, making you giggle, too.
“there hasn’t been a day where i haven’t loved you. even as a little eight year old boy, i loved you. i love you, still, but growing up with you was the greatest pleasure i’ve had, and i want to grow old with you, too. the time you scraped your knee on my old garden path, i knew i loved you. the time i left home for university, i knew i loved you. the time you met the boys and i said we were just friends, i knew i loved you. the time i asked you to be my girlfriend, i knew i loved you. i wanted to save so much for you, and i have. now, we can be happy together for the rest of our lives and i can learn to love you all over again.
“Y/N L/N, would you give me the greatest pleasure of becoming your husband? will you marry me?”
“oh, john,” you gasped, your hand covering your mouth as tears began to well in your eyes. “yes! yes, of course i’ll marry you!”
john immediately stood up from the ground, moving closer to you to close the gap. both of your hands were shaking as he pulled out the ring, sliding it on your left ring finger. short chuckles left both of your mouths as you stood in shock at what had just happened. as soon as he pushed the ring all the way down, you stretched out your hand, admiring the way the stone gleamed in the low light.
“it’s beautiful, baby.” you whispered, pressing your hand against your chest.
“not as beautiful as you, bug.” he replied in a whisper, pulling you tight against his body by your hips. your hands cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips down to meet yours. it was soft, full of love and passion. a kiss you’d never felt before. something new. something better than before.
“i love you.” he smiled against your lips, his hot breath fanning over you.
“and i love you, john.”
-
TAGLIST: @never-kept-the-same-address @j0hn-deaky @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @leatherjacketmazzello @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedust1124719 @deakysgurl
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Tantric Flames: Chapter 8: Tantric Art of Seduction
Tantric Flames
Nalu lovefest 2019 Prompts:  Magic, Worship, Reckless , Forbidden and Cravings (All Implied)
Genres: Romance, Humor, New Adult Fanfiction
Pairing:Nalu (Natsu x Lucy)
Rating: M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You've been warned!)
Summary:  One look, one smouldering hooded gaze, one word, one fiery kiss, one magnetizing touch was all he needed for her to completely unravel at his mercy alone, succumbing to the sinful temptation of her inhibitions, his love, his feral passion, his raw, insatiable desires, his "Tantric Flames". Originally an Submission for Nalulovefest 2017 (on previous accounts) in which Natsu gives his mate a tantric massage-after much persuasion- she won't soon forget when it turns into so much more. Also previously featured in Nalu lovefest 2018 (on current accounts) , as well as Nalu Week 2017, Nalu Fluff Week and Nalu lovefest 2017 (as stated) with first three chapters on my previous celestialgeekmage accounts . Previous chapter was also an entry for nalu week 2019. ( Nalu-centric) (Slight Au).
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Chapter 8: Tantric Art Of Seduction
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A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the long-awaited 8th Chapter of Tantric Flames and second entry for  @nalulovefestofficial​ 2019. Anyways, this said chapter is packed with plenty of sizzling Nalu gooodness which I hope is to your liking. Special thanks to my amazing and talented friend/mutual  @kaycha1989   -aka @kaychawrites - for acting as a beta and helping with the edits! Be sure to check Kayla and her excellent writing out  on tumblr, FF and A03! (Google Kaycha for FF and A03 if off tumblr). Now, without further ado, here's chapter 8-enjoy!
(Note: Scroll Down past the cut/read more button for  corresponding kinks and the actual chapter).
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Disclaimer: I don't own Fairytail which belongs to the one and only Hiro-sensei instead!
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Read more of Tantric Flames  and on other platforms here:
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1. Tantric Flames
A. Tumblr
Previous ( Chapter: 7)  (Click Here:)  (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/185033161848/tantric-flames-chapter-7-what-belongs-to-a-fire)
Chapter 8:   Next( Chapter) (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/624402662880854016/tantric-flames-chapter-9)
B. Fanfiction(Click Here:)  (or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13114990/1/Tantric-Flames-reupload-from-cosmicdragonwizardaccounts)
C. A03 (Click Here:) (or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17063882/chapters/40123739)
2. Master Post of My Writing (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post
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Legend:
Italic: Song Lyrics/Quotes (or flashback dialogue)
Bold: First Person Thoughts
Bolded Italics: Empathized Word(s)
Bolded Italics (Within and Outside Bracket) including for author's side notes also known as (A/N:) within brackets (though none for side-notes in this chapter ).
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"Seduce my mind,
ensnare my heart,
capture my soul,
and my body is yours completely."
(Varga Crystal: The Lisbon Collection)
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"The scent of your arousal— My God Luce…"
Natsu lips were at Lucy's ear now; oh so close that she could feel his breath on the shell. "It's growing stronger again."
"So intoxicating. Ya' gettin' turned on just by fantasizing about me, huh?" The deep rumble in his baritone along the rapitorial flash in onyx-green shot an electric thrill through Lucy's veins ."The thought of me and what I can do getting you all hot?"
"Mhmm, " Was all Lucy could utter in response, too distracted to manage much else.
"You are, huh? That's hot. Though I can't help but wonder ..." Hands rested just above her panty line, so close, so maddeningly close where lazy digits traced patterns that the mage just barely bit back a moan of carnal aggravation from the pulsating ache.
"How much stimulation can you handle before it becomes too much? Just think of how easily I could drive ya' wild with my touch alone .. my hands, my fingers, my tongue all working my magic until you're finally seeing stars."
Another electric rush of fire shot straight down to Lucy's already heated core from his sinful words ; so intense that Lucy found herself unable to stifle the keening noise escaping her throat .
"Dammit Natsu don't tease me!" said wizard protested, breathy voice lifting into a whine. "You know what that does!"
"But why not Luce?" Natsu fired back, nibbling at the shell of her ear. That gravely baritone of his was somewhere between a velvet purr and growl that always sent an assault of feel-good shivers down her spine. "No real shocker here that we both know how much you love it despite your claims. It'd be so easy— good payback too. Me driving ya' to brink just to deny that letting it finally happen when I'm damn good and ready. Such a devious little minx you are— teasin' and riling up a dragon like that and an alpha one too. .
"Yes, yes, I agree— very devious of me. And you're definitely a dominant alpha dragon and demon too-no question about that."
"How kind of you to notice." He let out a deep, throaty, chuckle that sent a burning heat across Lucy's skin. "Good for you to know when to surrender to a mighty dragon-demon too. God you're so hot, sexy and adorable— all flustered like this. The most precious of my hoard. completely at my mercy. Makes me want ya' even more than I already do. Seems only fair I return the favor, right?"
"Uh... no. I don't really agree ..."
"Course' you don't, Luce. Kinda' difficult from your position. Least' I have you all to my myself for a good chunk of the day. Should leave plenty of time for me to have my fun with ya'. Should I...nah." Natsu opted right then and there to deposit a scorching wet kiss with a well-timed nip and suck, on the patch of skin below Lucy's ear, overloading her already heightened senses.
"There," he remarked with a touch of that irresistible shit-eating grin she could detect in his voice. "That should give you a lot more to think about."
"You're a smug ass, you know that?"
"Mhm... yeah— but you absolutely love it when I am. That's not all, no. I know what else gets ya' all hot and bothered. All those hickeys you can't ever seem to get enough of..."
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A/N: That's Chapter 8 folks! Definitely shorter than some of the others though the next one will be up ASAP. Please let me know what you think by leaving a review and/or comment! Reblogs and shares would be much appreciated as well! Oh and Don't forget to check out my other nalulovefest entry (Fire And Gold), the rest of my writing and submissions from other lovefest participants! That's all for now folks. Until next time-take care!
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kita-lavellan · 4 years
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Thank you for tagging me @serial-chillr, @theaiobhan, @elveny, and @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold. You’re all super sweet ^_^
1. Do you have a favourite character to write? Who and why? I absolutely adore writing The Doctor from the Doctor Who fandom. Mainly because, with the whole regeneration ability, there’s so much variety to the character. Additionally, because The Doctor has lived for so long there’s so much depth and emotion to work with, and if you want you can turn them into something entirely new. It’s a character that envelopes and takes on whatever you want to do with them and it’s a lot of fun.
Across all fandoms, I love writing Intelligent characters. For a similar reason to the Doctor, when your character is smart it gives you the freedom to do pretty much anything you want because you can have this character as the cause, or catalyst.
2. Do you have a favourite trope to write? Or one you want to write? I don’t really pay attention to tropes, or popular tropes so I’m not sure what I could list as a favourite. I love Happy Endings, and Slow Burns, but I wouldn’t really consider them Tropes. I write what I want to see happen, and if that happens to include a popular trope then it does.
3. Share your favourite description you’ve written?
A snippet from the next, unpublished, chapter of my Doctor Who Fanfiction.
Despite their individual concerns about fitting into the routine at Alpha camp, both Rose and Martha quickly found themselves absorbed in the day to day life of the Torchwood officers surrounding them.
Rose continued to wake early, although not quite as early as her first morning, and began to join the officers morning exercise routine, leaving the training grounds just in time to take a shower and meet Professor Smith outside their cabins for 8am.
Martha met them both for breakfast in the communal hall, usually regaling them both with things she'd learnt during the previous day working in the medical office. When they didn't have patients to tend, Doctor Leen had been thrilled to discover that Martha wanted to learn as much as she could about the medical needs of the various species around camp and had taken the young woman under his personal tutelage.
While Martha spent her days either practising medicine or studying it with Doctor Leen, Rose found herself quickly renting an interface for digital books from the requisitions officer to give herself something to do while Professor Smith lost himself in the alien language the Torchwood Archive had hired him to work on.
Surrounded by high walls, electric fences and a full accompaniment of soldiers, Rose was beginning to wonder just how much personal protection Professor Smith really needed, but it was oddly reassuring to have the human-Doctor within eyesight at all times so she didn't complain, not even internally towards the Tardis, and continued to spend most of her day reading.
4. Share your favourite dialogue you’ve written?
My rewrite of the Trespasser scene from DAI, I’ve not finished it yet, but I’m adoring adding in dialogue from all the various options to create a more in-depth discussion between the Inquisitor and Solas.
“And now you know,” he added, snapping her attention back to the present as his voice broke. For all his masks and deceptions, Solas couldn’t lie to her. He never had, and she clung to that small but not insignificant detail with desperate hope as he continued, voice shaking, “What is the old Dalish curse? ‘May the Dread Wolf take you’?”
Kita loosed a mirthless laugh, wet with tears as they began to leak from her eyes and spill across her cheeks, bare of Vallaslin because of the man before her, and she brushed the droplets away roughly.
“And so he did…”
“I did not,” Solas cut her off quickly, the pain on his face at her tears just made her cry harder, “I would not lay with you under false pretences-”
“Oh, you may not have taken my body, but you long ago laid claim to my heart, Solas,” Kita threw back. There was no condemnation there though, nothing for him to rail or fight against, and with a moment of silence and a few steadying breaths, Kita was able to bring her storm of emotions under control, wiping the last of her tears away so she could once again face the god before her.
“I loved you. Did you really think I wouldn’t have understood?” Kita asked, voice catching despite herself, and Solas winced, before shaking his head, a frown appearing quickly for him to hide his pain behind.
“What would you have had me say? That I was the great adversary of your people’s mythology?!” he snapped, like a dog whose paw had been stepped on, lashing out in pain and stepping closer to her. Stepping into her frame and willing her to back away, to back down. To prove him right. 
“I would have had you trust me!” Kita snarled back, shifting even closer. She’d never once been willing to back down from any of their heated debates, and this argument was not going to be the first time she ceded to him. She had to make him understand that he had been wrong, and as he stared down at her, expression furious and meeting her own angry gaze Kita was almost amazed to see him give in.
Anger and frustration melted into heartbroken sadness and Solas shook his head slowly.
“Ir abelas, vhenan,” Solas whispered, shoulders dropping in resignation and Kita’s breath caught at the soft endearment she would have given up almost anything to hear once more, since the night at Crestwood.
5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?
A smut scene between my Inquisitor and Solas. I HC that they didn’t do anything more than kissing, potentially some heavy petting, during Inquisition, so I’ve not had the opportunity to explore that dynamic yet. 
Tagging forward to; @faerelden, @this-basic-mage, @noire-pandora, @inquisitor-veowyn and anyone else who wants to take part (tag me so I can read) Answer any or all if you feel like it - I want to hear about all the things you write!
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chemist-ana · 3 years
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Chapter 11- The Shopping Trip— Sams POV
Book: The Nanny Affair
Characters: Sam, Ana Schuyler (MC), Robin
Pairing: Sam Dalton (male) x Ana Schuyler (MC)
Rating: 18+
Content Warning: NSFW, Sexual Language, Adult Language, Sexual Situations
A/N This is a brand new series that I was inspired to write. I am going to go chapter by chapter in Sam Daltons POV. This story is completely inspired by Choices The Nanny Affair. I have used most of the dialogue from the actual story, anything written in BOLD was taken directly from the book and therefore is not my writing- credit to our good friends over at Pixelberry! All characters are credit to Pixelberry except for my OCs
Summary: Sofia corners me into taking Ana for the day on a shopping trip, what happens next is anyones guess.
Word Count: 3500
Tag List: @txemrn @secretaryunpaid @lifeaskim @aussieez @pixie88 @thefrenchiemama @sfb123 @mainstreetreader @shewillreadyou @khoicesbyk @lady-calypso @choicesficwriterscreations @somersetmummy @melalicious8383@chrissythadon
I eye Sofia warily as she sticks her hip out, arms crossed, her brown eyes not leaving mine.
“I don’t see what the problem is, Sam. I just want to borrow Ana for the day.” Her voice has a measured evenness that makes me question her true intention.
“Alright, I will take the boys out.” A smile curves her lips at my words.”But, Sofia, please treat her with respect.”
My hands grip the marble counter as she turns to walk away, her heels clicking as she rounds the corner towards Ana’s room without another word.
This is a bad idea…
I quietly follow Sofia, stopping right outside Ana’s door. I can hear their muffled conversation. I take a step closer.
“Fine. Give me the card.” I hear Ana say reluctantly.
“You’re a lifesaver, Ana. I will see you very soon.”
I dart into my open bedroom door before I hear Sofia leave Ana’s room. I wait until I hear the elevator doors close before walking back over to Ana’s room, knocking softly on the partially open door.
“Is it safe to come in?” I ask with a crooked smile.
“Sam, you really are scared of Sofia, huh?” Her lips curve up into a mocking smile. “You’re a grown man sneaking around his own fiancee. You see that, right?”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘sneaking’. More like… walking with discretion.” I slip into her room. “But I am sorry she ambushed you like that. I owe you, big time.”
“Good thing I know just what I want as compensation.” She looks me up and down, her eyes lingering.
“Oh? And what’s that?” I lean against her dresser, crossing my arms across my chest.
“I want you.” She takes a step towards me, her eyes darkening. “Just you, all to myself. Send the kids to spend the weekend with their grandparents, and leave us the penthouse…”
My mind instantly jumps to every fantasy I have ever had of her, spread in front of me on the kitchen counter, her moans echoing through the living room as I pin her to the floor to ceiling windows, and her wet and screaming my name in my shower. I push off of her dresser, taking a step towards her.
“That seems like a… dangerous proposition.”
“That’s what makes it fun.” Her gaze slides up to mine and I can see every speck of gold mixed with her emerald eyes.
“Ana…” I can feel the desire growing before my brain finally takes back control. I lean back, clearing my throat. “For the time being, maybe there’s something more immediate I can do to make it up to you?”
“I’m listening… intently.” Her eyes travel down, lingering on the now-obvious bulge in my pants. Damn, woman.
“I was thinking I could make you breakfast with…. You know, pancakes, eggs, bacon, the works.”
“Sofia would never approve.” She smiles as her eyes rise to mine.
“Sofia isn’t here. I’m willing to risk it. What do you say?”
“I guess making me breakfast is the least you can do.” She says with a sigh.
“Right this way. Chef Sam is at your service.”
I follow her out to the kitchen, my eyes glued to her hips as they sway left to right, her perfect peach of an ass daring me to grab it. I swallow as I watch her slide into a bar stool, my eyes snapping up to hers as she turns her gaze on me.
I take a deep breath, grabbing the apron from the pantry and knotting it around my waist. Alright, it’s been a while, but you know how to do this, Dalton. Impress the lady. I can at least fake it til I make it, right?
I grab some butter and set it to melt in a nonstick. I can feel her eyes on me and I give her a crooked grin.
“Normally I’m the one enjoying the view while you make breakfast.”
“I didn’t notice you were taking in the scenery.” She smiles as she squirms slightly in her seat and a blush spreads across her cheeks.
“I do try to be subtle… even if I don’t always succeed.”
Alright Dalton, pancakes first. I start adding the ingredients to a bowl.
“You have a favorite thing about what you saw?” Her voice breaks the silence.
Ahh, fishing now are we Ms. Schuyler. I will gladly take the bait.
“I’m not sure I can narrow it down to just one thing… between your adorable bedhead and cute little pajamas, my eyes just don’t know where to look.” My eyes flick up and notice her nipples have hardened under her thin t shirt. “But I definitely appreciate how sweet you are with my boys… even when they’re loud and rambunctious before coffee.”
“Sam… I care about them.” Her cheeks warm even more. “That makes it easy.”
“I’ve met my boys, Ana. I’m under no illusion that taking care of them is easy, even if you do have a magic touch.” I give her a wry smile before looking back down at my breakfast preparations. “Would you like to help, or would you prefer to relax?”
“I’ll watch you from over here. This is my treat, remember? I intend to enjoy it fully.”
Oh well, I tried to get her to come closer to me. My eyes swing up to hers and she is giving me a devilish grin as she leans back in her chair.
“Good. I hope I… live up to your expectations.”
“You’re doing a pretty good job so far.”
“That’s because I haven’t set the kitchen on fire yet. I’ve always been a little helpless when it comes to this sort of thing…”
I grab some walnuts for the pancakes and chop them on the cutting board, all while trying to ignore the heat from her gaze.
“You know, for someone who claims to be ‘helpless’, you seem to know your way around a chef’s knife.”
“The chopping part comes naturally from years of working hands-on in a lab. You need the same sort of steady strokes for both. But when it comes to the rest of it… I swear, I’ve never met a chicken I couldn’t burn to a crisp.” Why did I offer to cook for her again?
I flick the walnut pieces into the batter and stir them in.
“Should I be worried about these pancakes? You are going to have to cook them…” She chides.
“You can supervise while I attempt to not burn them.” I give her a small chuckle as I start pouring the batter. Expertly flipping them and cooking them to a beautiful golden brown. I plate her a stack of steaming pancakes. “A little cinnamon, a little honey, top with strawberries…” My eyes rise to hers as she watches me with a smile. “I hope you like ‘em sweet.”
“You know I do. Don’t forget the secret ingredient… lots of love!”
My chest tightens at her words as I turn to present her pancakes.
“Looks delicious.”
I watch as she delicately places a small piece of pancake in her mouth, her pink lips wrapping around the fork as her eyes flutter closed. Who knew watching someone eat could be so erotic…
“Mmmm… so good.” She moans as her eyes open again and meet mine. “Are you sure you’re bad at this?”
“Pancakes are the one dish I’ve perfected over the years. Theres’s a reason I offered to make you breakfast and not dinner.” I smile at the satisfaction on her face.
“And here I thought it was because you wanted to lick syrup off of me.” Her tongue darts out to lick the syrup off of her bottom lip.
I can’t help but groan at her words. “Ana…” Our gaze lingers on each other before I watch her reach for the syrup. I would lick syrup off of every single inch of your skin if I could…
“Whoops! Sorry…” Her eyes grow wide when she knocks the bottle over. She smiles sheepishly as rounds the corner of the bar to help clean up the spill. The sweet smell of jasmine and syrup fill my senses as she stands close to me.
“I’ve got it.”
“No, let me help…” She insists.
I turn to watch her as she insists on wiping up the mess with a napkin. Finally she turns to me, and I realize just how close we are standing to each other. The familiar arc of electricity flowing between our bodies, charging the air.
“Did I get it all?” I ask her breathlessly.
I watch her tongue dart out and lick her lips as she swallows heavily.
“You missed a spot on my neck.” She tilts her head to the side and my gaze narrows in to the delicate curve of her neck and throat.
I lean in, bringing my tongue to her sweet skin. I can feel her heart beating at her pulse point, and she tilts her head further to give me better access.
“Mmmm… so delicious.” I smile into my kisses on her neck. So fucking sweet.
“Wait until you taste the rest of me.” She says, her voice low.
“Oh god…” Her words send desire surging through me as I imagine the small taste I have already gotten. My hands find her delicate waist as I bunch up her shirt trying to expose her soft skin. “Ana…” I moan as I continue kissing her neck.
She twines her fingers into my hair and pulls my lips to hers, kissing me with a sense of urgency and passion that I match stroke for stroke.
“Touch me, Sam…” She whispers against my lips. “I need to feel you…”
My hands find the hem of her shirt and I reach under to explore the planes of her bare skin, relishing in the curves of her back.
“Like this?” I whisper.
“God yes…” She moans.
My hands continue exploring all of the muscles of her back, pulling her tight against my body and my growing desire. Her breathing is accelerating as I can feel her nearing the edge. Oh beautiful girl, the way you respond to my touch is unbelievable… where have you been all my life?
I completely forgot that we weren’t exactly alone in the penthouse when I heard the thunder of bare feet running down the hall. I immediately drop my arms from Ana and take a step back.
“Crap!” She says breathlessly.
I reach up and run my hands through my hair as my eyes scan Ana’s face. Her lips are swollen from our kisses and she is trying to catch her breath.
“I thought Aunt Sofia threw away all our good food!” Mickey yells as he rounds the corner.
“Boys! We made pancakes!” Ana says quickly averting her eyes from mine.
“Score!” Mickey cheers as him and his brother slide into the seats at the kitchen bar.
I watch Ana carefully as she serves two plates of pancakes for the boys, blushing furiously.
“Boys, what do you say to Ana?” My eyes fall on Mickey and Mason as she slides their plates in front of them.
“Thank you! It’s really good!” Mason says with a mouth full of pancake.
“Mmm. Yeah, way better than Aunt Sofia’s- I mean, thank you!” Mickey stops mid-Sofia insult as I narrow my eyes at him.
Ana studiously ignores me for the rest of breakfast as she slowly regains her composure.
When the kitchen has been cleaned and pancakes have been finished, she makes her way towards the foyer.
“Ana, wait! Before you go…” I walk up quickly behind her holding a travel mug with fresh coffee. “Something tells me you’re gonna need the extra caffeine to get through your day.” I smile as our fingers brush.
“Thanks.” She brings the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. “I’ll see you later.”
“Thank you, again, Ana.”
She gives me a small smile before the elevators close between us.
I let out a sharp breath before walking back into the kitchen with Mickey and Mason.
“Well, boys, what should we do today?”
***
I check my phone for what seems like the hundredth time since Ana left the penthouse this morning. My mind wanders to all the possible things Sofia could be saying to her. I turn my gaze up as Mason and Mickey put their batting helmets on.
“Alright boys, are you ready?”
“Ready, dad!” They say in unison.
I shove my phone in my pocket, it will all be over soon… right?
***
Mason and Mickey dash into the penthouse as soon as the elevator doors open. I pull out my phone… still nothing from Ana.
I sit down on the couch, turning my attention to the trees swaying in the wind in Central Park.
Suddenly my phone pings with a text message. I grab it and look at the screen, Ana.
Ana: I don’t think Im gonna last a whole afternoon w/Sofia
I sigh and sit back on the couch.
Sam: What did she do this time?
Ana: What HASNT She done?
Ana: I’m trying to not let her get to me but…
Sam: She wears you down.
Sam: I know the feeling all too well.
Sam: What can I do? Would a distraction help?
Sam: Ana? I lose you there?
When she doesn’t immediately respond, I text her again… what are you? A fucking highschooler.
Ana: Ok, I have to ask… Is our relationship all in my head?
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. Fuck
Sam: No, definitely not. Where’s this coming from?
Ana: Just something Sofia said…
Damn it, I knew this was going to be a problem.
Sam: Ana, please don’t listen to her.
Sam: She doesn’t know anything about our relationship. And she’s a master at manipulation.
Ana: I kno I kno, its just she found a sore spot I guess.
Sam: I should’ve know she’d pulls something like this. She was so insistent when she asked. I didn’t want to arouse suspicion by resisting too much.
Ana: Her mind games are seriously next level. At this point, I wonder if her assistant even has a kid.
Sam: Ana, I WILL make this right. Sit tight.
I stand up, sending a quick text to Carter to let him know I am running out and leaving the boys at home. I stuff my phone in my pocket, grabbing the keys to the Porsche and ignoring the many incoming texts as my phone pings in my pocket. Hold tight, Ana. I am coming for you.
***
After stopping at Laudree and getting a box of macarons, I park the Porsche outside of Viver and make my way inside.
“Did you know there’s a gourmet bakery just down the street from here?” I smile as I walk into the back, Ana is bent over her phone on the chaise.
“Sam!” I watch her face light up as stands up, her long legs stepping up to me as she throws her arms around my shoulders.
“I should surprise you like this more often.” I smile as she steps away from me.
“If our think you’re gonna get away with pawning me off on Sofia for an entire day ever again…” She rolls her eyes.
“I guess I’ll just have to come up with another way to surprise you.” I give her a nudge with my elbow.
“Sam, you know how to turn my day around. Thank you for finding a way to show that you care.” She grabs the box from my hands.
“It’s the least I could do, given what you’ve done for me today to show that you care.” I place my hand on her arm and give her a long look. “You need me, I’m here. Okay?”
She gives me a small nod and I watch her melt at my words.
“Is that my boo-bear?” I flinch slightly as I hear Sofia’s voice call from the dressing room. She rounds the corner with a smile on her face. “And you brought… cookies! That’s very sweet, literally. I’ll have to save it for my cheat day.”
“I’m told they’re the best cookies in the city. Consider it my way of thanking you two, since you spent all day preparing for an event on my behalf.” I look at Sofia with a smile. “But since it looks like you’re done already, maybe I can kill two birds with one stone and take Ana home with me?”
“Hm? Oh yes, that’s fine. I have an appointment soon anyway.” Sofia grabs her phone out of her purse and barely spares me another glance.
“Ana? Shall we?”
I watch Ana give Sofia a weird look, which I decide to ignore, before she follows me out of the shop.
I open the passenger side door for her and she gracefully slides into the seat of the Porsche, her long legs look so damn good in this car. I bite my lip before I close her door, climbing into the drivers side and I put the car into drive.
My hand is resting on the center console. I feel her fingers gently brush mine before she intertwines our fingers. I glance down at our hands with a small smile.
“So, you’re going to a charity gala this weekend?” She asks casually.
“It’s not as fun as it sounds, believe me. Even though it’s not official business, it’ll be all shoptalk, all night.”
“With fancy food and fancy drinks and fancy dancing? That doesn’t sound all bad.”
“You’re right, it’s not.” I squeeze her hand lightly. “And with the right date, it could be downright fun. But-“
“You’re going with Sofia.” Her voice sounds sad as she shifts her gaze out of the window.
“Yeah. She has her moments, but she tends to stay laser-focused on business events like this.” I wish you were coming with me though…
“I wish I was going with you. You’d have so much more fun with me. Just like at your engagement party.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing I’m not bringing you, then. You were dangerous that night.” My mind wanders back to her body pressed against mine, the dark look in her eyes.
“Just that night?” I can see her look at me out of the corner of my eye.
“And every night since.” I flick my eyes to hers. “It’s not fair to tease me when I’m supposed to keep my eyes on the road.”
“I never said I play fair.”
“Ana…” My voice almost sounds like a growl as I try not to imagine her body pressed up against me, her hips pressing into mine.
“Fine, fine. I’ll be good… for now.” She smiles before facing forward, our fingers still interlaced.
***
“Are you serious, Sof? You know how big of a deal tonight is.”
“I know, Sam, and I really do apologize. I do not feel well enough to attend.” Her voice sounds quiet and subdued. “I have an idea that would keep my seat filled at the table.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I could bring Ana…
“You should bring, Ana.” My eyes widen at her words. “She was with me when I was practicing, she should know who everyone of importance is.”
“I don’t know, Sofia.”
“I do, Sam, I insist. She won’t look as good at me on your arm, but she is better than nothing.”
I pause for effect.
“Alright, well, I hope you feel better.”
“Thank you, Sam. Don’t have too much fun without me tonight.”
“Bye, Sof.”
I am glad she can’t see the grin on my face as I end the phone call, sending a quick text to my assistant to order a gold dress from my personal shopper at Nordstroms in Ana’s size and to change my tux to one that will match.
***
The doorman delivers the suit bag and the dress box to the elevator and I walk quickly into my room, changing into the tux with the gold accents and gold tie. I take one last look in the full length mirror before turning to the box.
I carefully unbox the dress, damn this is going to look so fucking good on her…
I make my way to Ana’s room and knock softly on her closed door.
I hear her voice on the other side of the door before she swings it open. Her brown hair cascading down her back and chest, wearing that thin t shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination. I clear my throat as I remember why I am even standing here in the first place.
“Sam… you look amazing.” She reaches out and adjusts my lapels and runs her hands down my chest. “There. Now you’re perfect.” Her eyes find mine again with a sigh,
“What would I do without you?”
“Walk around with a wrinkled lapel, I expect.” She laughs softly, such a beautiful sound…
I clear my throat and her face turns serious.
“Ana, I know this is terribly short notice, but… will you be my date to the gala?” I hold my breath as surprise flashes across her face, followed by confusion.
Oh god, say yes.
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lovelytonys · 5 years
Text
100 great things about megamind
basically i just watched megamind and wrote down everything that made me go “hey that’s good”
1. The opening monologue slaps I literally do not care about your “cliches” it’s GOOD
2. “8 days old and still living with my parents...pathetic right?”
3. The idea that Megamind is inherently good since his origin story should have been his dad saying he’s destined for “greatness” but the greatness got cut off uwu
4. Literally just the fact that Megamind was about to go to the Rich Nice House and his destiny changed at the last second,,,everything about this movie makes it a cinematic masterpiece
5. “A baby! How thoughtful!” “yes yes I saw it and thought of you”
6. “While they were learning the itsy bitsy spider I was learning how to dehydrate objects and rehydrate them at will”
7. When you hear the Bad to the Bone guitar riff kick in,,,,,,heck yeah babey!!
8. J.K Simmons is here! yeah!
9. Will Ferrell’s voice acting is literally SO darn good like even just from the beginning,,, the funny affectation of whatever kind of accent that is,,,,,the expressiveness of literally everything he says,,,,,I’m not actively a fan of Will Ferrell or anything but he just did a good job ok
10. “His heart is an ocean inside a bigger ocean”
11. Idk why but I just love the phrase “you fantastic fish you”
12. Metro Man is such a fun character. Like. A hero who shouldn’t be a hero, but he just….is one? Someone who’s idol-worshipped and, despite his grandeur, doesn’t exactly deserve it?
13. MEGAMIND’S CHARACTER DESIGN IS LITERALLY SO GOOD like the vivid colors of his skin and eyes? His COSTUME? His hilarious proportions, between the giant head and the skinny & scrawny everything else? Superb, you funky little alien
14. All dialogue between Megamind and Minion is god tier by default
15. The twist on “damsel in distress” where yeah the girl gets kidnapped but she is so not distressed and has the intellectual power in the situation as she roasts Megamind at every turn and he can’t combat anything she says
16. “Oh potato tomato potato tomato”
17. “I’m shaking in my BABY SEAL LEATHER BOOTS”
18. THE ENTIRE EXCHANGE BETWEEN MEGAMIND AND METRO MAN ABOUT JUSTICE AND REVENGE AND THE MICROWAVE OF EVIL AND WARRANTIES
19. “Can someone stamp my frequent kidnapping card” “You of all people know that we discontinued that”
20. The way this movie manages to SO effectively establish character while diving right into the action and keeping with a fun, fast pace? The world & characters are set up incredibly well AND the start of the journey/ “break into the new world” hits at a brisk 20 minutes? Lovely work, Dreamworks
21. When Highway to Hell kicks in with the lasers and Megamind dancing at the police,,,,,this is nothing short of priceless
22. “Imagine the most horrible terrifying evil thing you could possibly think of and multiply it…..BY SIX”
23. When you’re a supervillain who takes over the city and you say “let’s just have fun with this” to the citizens
24. *whispering behind the door* “now slam the door really hard!” *snickering like a 12 year old girl* “move they can still see you”
25. “Did you think this day would come?” “No, no not in a million years, not ever...I mean yes”
26. “That’s called a window, sir. All the kids are looking through them”
27. Crazy Train is SUCH a nice touch, the fade into Alone Again Naturally is great. The use of music in this movie is absolutely A+, MEGAMIND DID IT FIRST AND GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY AIN’T SPECIAL (jk gotg you’re so special ily)
28. The images of Megamind’s destruction & deterioration of the city are so creative and funny
29. *to a desk toy bird* “What’s your vacuum like?”  
30. “GOING OFF THE RAILS ON A CRAZY TRAIN SIR”
31. Haven’t yet mentioned how lovely the animation of Megamind’s face is! Every single frame, he’s so expressive
32. Mispronunciation of words like “school”, “Metro City”, and “melancholy”
33. This voice cast in general is so good like it’s not just big names phoning it in for an animated movie, they’re fully into it
34. Real Bernard doesn’t get much screen time but he’s hilarious
35. “Typhoon Cheese”, whatever that was gonna be
36. The juxtaposition in body language & facial expression between Real Bernard and Megamind Bernard,,,,,actually just the way Megamind’s physicality is transferred to the other characters he disguises himself as. Great stuff
37. Megamind’s off-the-walls high energy is so fun and electric
38. “This is a bad idea” “yes, a good idea for the greater good of bad” “maybe it seems good from your bad perception but from a good perception it’s just plain bad” “oh you don’t know what’s good for bad”
39. Ollo? Oh, hello
40. “I’m just yelling at my…..mother’s urn”
41. Megamind and Minion just saying “code” before things that aren’t in code. This movie is so good with its running gags, they don’t feel like “oh haha they used that joke again!” they feel like inside jokes between the characters I love it
42. Megamind fighting himself as Bernard while complimenting himself, COMEDY GOLD
43. The various occurrences of random life-altering things happening on a whim to the wrong people, like Hal getting the superpowers and earlier Metro Man being molded into a hero and Megamind landing in prison as a baby
44. The forget me stick
45. Space Dad and Space Stepmom
46. Every character Megamind inhabits always retains Megamind’s eyes
47. MR BLUE SKY PLAYING OVER HAL’S DISASTROUS TRAINING SEQUENCE AND THE FALLING IN LOVE SEQUENCE THAT INCLUDES DONKEY KONG AND MEGAMIND WEIRDLY TEXTING ON A FLIP PHONE (gotgv2 who? Don’t know her)
48. Roxanne’s positive influence making Megamind genuinely want to make the city better uwu
49. ROXANNE AND METRO MAN WERE NEVER A COUPLE! Lovely trope subversion
50. Tropes in this movie in general are so fun. This isn’t some uninspired genre parody. They don’t just subvert tropes in the exact way that you’d expect. I feel like the way that this movie plays with the superhero genre often feels unique and creative
51. Bernard’s character design kind of slaps tbh. The turtleneck, the hair, the glasses, all very nice
52. When Hal calls Roxanne “a really good looking one I’ve got my eye on” like she’s meat or something as opposed to Megamind valuing her personality…..makes ya think u know
53. T h e  b l a c k  m a m b a a a a a
54. “Maybe I don’t want to be the bad guy anymore!” and Megamind & Minion’s subsequent falling out that served as a precursor to the disastrous date with Roxanne- it happens pretty much exactly halfway through the movie. Some people look down upon following structure to a T, but sometimes it’s satisfying when a movie perfectly follows structure and this movie’s structure is flawless
55. “Good luck on your date” “I will” “That doesn’t even make any sense” “I know”
56. Right after fighting w Minion when Megamind looks in a cracked mirror and frowns at his reflection but then changes into someone else, into Bernard, and then smiles? THE CINNAMON TOGROPHY, THE STORYTELLING
57. When Hal is just an incel whose feeling of entitlement is framed as disgusting and he’s not supposed to be sympathetic and Roxanne’s rejection of him is not framed as evil but rather completely justified? VERY epic of them, this movie would have SMASHED the pop culture scene if it came out today
58. The GRAVITY of the part when Roxanne accidentally reveals Megamind in the restaurant is so powerful that I can STILL barely watch it even though I’ve seen it so many times
59. The part that immediately follows where Roxanne shuts down Megamind is SO well done. Roxanne is giving out some harsh words to our dear protagonist, but she is not framed as the bad guy. The great thing about this scene is that they let Roxanne call out Megamind on how he’s been a jerk and she gets to be RIGHT. How very cash money of them! The emotion here isn’t anger at Roxanne because she’s ~being mean~ to Megamind. It’s a sting over the fact that she’s right, and the heartbreak over the dramatic irony of us knowing that Megamind is becoming a better person and Roxanne having no idea. Now Megamind is left with a decision that will show who he truly is on the inside: he could either retreat back into safe, evil ways for the rest of time because it’s easier to be bad because then no one expects anything from him and rejection is easier to handle, or he could ultimately choose to grow from this and recognize how he was wrong and how he has to change. The execution of this midpoint is exemplary.
60. “Do you really think I’d ever be with you?” “....no” the delivery of those lines is so good
61. “You were right! I was….less right!”
62. The Black Mamba is a god tier costume and the fact that it has its own theme song in the score makes it at least 6x better
63. WHEN BACK IN BLACK KICKS IN YEAAAHHHH (Iron Man who? Don’t know her) (Iron Man was already out at this point but how fun is it that this movie used TWO iconic mcu songs)
64. Megamind in the giant suit playing with cars
65. Hal SUCKS I love how much the movie wants you to hate him
66. The difference between Megamind and Hal/Titan/Tighten is so interesting to watch. How Megamind is the self-proclaimed “bad guy” but he’s not even out to do serious damage & it’s just a game to him, while Hal is out for blood but was created to be a hero
67. “Now it’s time for witty banter” “AAAAAAAAA” “I’m not really sure where to go with that”
68. “I’M CALLING A TIME OUT”
69. Twisting the Kryptonite trope by having Metro Man make up the copper weakness
70. “Does he have a hideout? A cave? A solitary fortress?” lol I understood that reference
71. “OW! MY GIANT BLUE HEAD!”
72. Metro Man’s confession scene is so good. Really, how often do you get a hero who feels that he was forced into being a hero? That’s usually a villain trope. Does the hero ever realize he doesn’t want to be a hero….and actually quit FOR GOOD? Again, the trope subversion is awesome
73. “I have eyes that can see right through leaaaaaaaad” that’s my favorite song
74. “You left the city to HIM! No offense” “no I’m with you”
75. “There’s a yin for every yang. If there’s bad, good will rise up against it.”
76. “I say we just go all GANGSTA on him” ms tina fey i would die for you
77. Megamind turns himself in to the police, the fact that he willingly submits himself to the punishment of being a villain at this point is a lovely and stirring way of showing the sense of justice he has deep down and showing his character development
78. When Roxanne gives Megamind a desperate & compassionate pep talk over live tv no matter what it means for her reputation :*))
79. When Megamind has 88 life sentences
80. “I. Am. Sorry!” *dramatically slides down door*
81. Megamind’s heartfelt and regretful admission of all his mistakes that brings his character arc to a head? Lovely
82. “Good luck” “WE’RE GONNA D I E! Hahahaha!”
83. “There is no Easter bunny, there is no tooth fairy, and there is no queen of England.”
84. MEGAMIND’S EPIC ENTRANCE BY COMING OUT OF HIS OWN MOUTH
85. “Oh you’re a villain alright. Just not a super one.” “Oh yeah? What’s the difference?”
86. P R E S E N T A T I O N
87. METRO MAN THUNDER CALVES
88. Again with the green eyes continuity! Love that!
89. “Going somewhere? Besides jail?” *flies in a fancy pose*
90. When Megamind is ready to let everyone think Metro Man is back but Roxanne wants to see the real hero :*))
91. “This is the last time you make a fool out of me!” “I made you a hero, you did the fool thing all by yourself” SICK BURN
92. “There’s a benefit to losing. You get to learn from your mistakes”
93. WHEN THE DEHYDRATION GUN COMES IN CLUTCH
94. Minion being a drama queen lol comedy peaked in 2010
95. Minion’s Little Face
96. “GET BACK YOU SAVAGES” “Sorry he’s just not used to positive feedback!”
97. “Destiny is not the path given to us but the path we choose for ourselves”
98. When Megamind gets to parallel Metro Man’s entrance from the beginning of the movie and everyone cheers for him :*)) and he adds his own fun little twist by making a villain joke
99. “Megamind, defender of Metro City” “you know? I like the sound of that!”
100. Name a better villain to hero story. YOU CANNOT. Cinematic excellence. I am never disappointed.
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vminity21 · 4 years
Text
Whimsical | knj [Sneak Peek]
Pairing: CollegeStudent!Namjoon X FinanciallyStruggling!Reader
Word Count: 2k (for now)
Genre: Aesthetic/Fluff
Warning(s): mild language use, otherwise none
Summary: In this spring based aesthetic, living paycheck to paycheck after moving to Gyeongju has done nothing but plague a bundle of stress upon you. Deciding to take a walk where the cherry blossoms bloom abundantly, you didn’t expect to run into an acquaintance of the past; and you definitely didn’t expect the measure he takes to make sure your burdens are lifted from your shoulders. 
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“What do you mean it costs this much?” When shock mingling with frustration forms into an exasperated sigh, your hand rakes through your hair in disbelief portraying the definition of stress in its purest authenticity. Your fingers that are curled around the auto insurance bill leave small indents behind when the dreaded piece of paper is now being placed upon the table. “Damnit,” tears flood your eyes while your palms shadow over your cheeks. You’ve already set money aside to save for the rent for your apartment along with your car payment as well as savings toward your electricity cost. Today, the discovery of your current expense being fifty more dollars than usual means that, yet another week goes by with surviving off the little groceries you have left stored in your pantry.
Shoving out of your jacket, the light air of spring has begun, and for once, you’d like to appreciate nature without the anxious feeling of life overwhelming your mind. Eyes scanning the vacancy of your apartment, loneliness returns, and the yearn to hear your mother’s voice has never felt so painful. It’s only been six months since you moved hours away for a job offer that you felt would be a good opportunity to further you into the career you’ve sought for. But, never in your existence did you dream that living paycheck to paycheck could bring so much misery, and hardly being able to speak to your mother has been weighing heavy on your conscience, but your determination to make her proud is what matters to you the most.
The jingle of your keys resonates the living room congruent with the shift of your feet wiggling into your tennis shoes. If there is anywhere you want to be right now, it’s not in this apartment, not near the opened envelopes of woe, not near your bedroom that reminds you of your exhaustion, and not near the refrigerator that is empty of any content that can fill your tummy. The drive to the local park flourishing with pinks and whites of cherry blossoms comes into view quicker than you anticipate, and with schools being in session, the area is not as crowded as it would be on the weekends. Petals float in the wind, swooping to the ground to paint the cement with color- your footsteps slow when the tunnel of tree branches exuberates perfumes of the florets to ease your tense frame.
You return to work tomorrow, but gratefully there is plenty of hours left in the day to explore, and with the solace of the atmosphere, it feels nice to escape from the turmoil of watching your paycheck disappear in order to live. A bench appears further into the path, mahogany tint with protruding sunlight breaking through the trees. Memories of what you consider your ‘past life’ churns with images of times where your grandfather shared stories of his childhood speaking lines of wisdom that encouraged you to be the person that you will and have become. He was the first soul to bring you to a park when you were younger, giving you a tour of what all there was to see- your almond eyes widened with wonder, gripping his hand while you would point out all the sights.
You miss those days more than you will profess, wishing you can relive them especially with what you’ve been enduring since your move. Gaze dropping to your shoes, hands in pockets- you gasp in surprise when your shoulder meets the figure of someone walking from the opposite direction,
“I’m sorry!” Panic is etched in your voice while you swiftly bow, a blush creeping to your cheeks in embarrassment when your steps quicken along the path. The tone belongs to a man who apologizes in return, yet your eyes keep there focus away from him; you’re very timid, something you’ve struggled with since the day you were born, and it’s hard enough to face your fears as it is, and uncertain on if the stranger would have been angry with you, you find it best to pretend it never happened. At least here, you feel safe alongside nature, and when the familiar sound of a rippling lake perks your auditory senses, a small tug of relief pulls at the corner of your lips, and the earlier chagrin of interrupting someone on their tread will no longer disturb your meditation.
 Something seems familiar about this place. Blusterous winds streaming through strands of your hair that tickle your shoulders beneath the blinding rays of the sun where grass pokes at your legs that are exposed from the end of your dress wrinkled upon your thighs. Cumulus clouds keep their distance from the beams flickering immensely within the blanket of blue, brightening the vibrancy of yellow flowers swaying beside stems of rubicund leaflets enhancing the field in iridescent whispers of delicacy.
You’ve seen this all before somewhere in the slumbers of imagination where your heart aches for peace such as this. Steeps of ornate mountains encompass the field in lavender shades collecting the finishing touches of scenery your dreams desire. But, there’s something different. Rather, the sense that you’re alone diminishing which prompts your vision to parade the panorama of daylight until a figure enters a distance ahead of you. A pile of wispy, light hair clears to reveal a man, eyes closed- the backs of his hands posed upon his knees leading to his fingers aimed upward mirroring the position you’re in. How he seems so close when he far away startles you even while you memorize the sight of his thick lips lying in a straight line of content.
Your head tilts in profound concentration of where you may have seen him- where you may have known him, but you come up empty, for here in this world of tranquility, you have not seen him here before. There’s a strange ponder of wanting to rise to your feet, but you lean forward instead, observing the slow rise and fall of his chest where he breathes in and out deeply. He’s clothed in white, darkening his already tanned skin- your stare tracing from his neck to see his face once more, and when your lids squint to study him,
He opens his eyes-
 “Ma’am? Ma’am,” the echo of a calm voice breaks through enough to awaken your bleary eyes, “Ma’am, are you okay?” Drool gathered at the corner of your mouth you swipe with the hem of your sleeve; your eyes are sensitive from how bright it is outside, and it takes a moment for them to adjust once you turn your head gradually in order to remember where you are. The flowing trickles of water, the soreness of your back-scratching from the log of a tree, and the soft squeeze of a large hand on your shoulder alarms you enough to realize you fell asleep while reminiscing at the lake.
You refrain from cursing under your breath when nerves shoot through your veins, gathering yourself enough to look at whoever is hovering above you. Stuttering to find words, you weakly accept the strong hand offered to you to help you up. Concern is etched in the shape of brown irises reading your stare while nostalgia fogs your brain. “Do I- do I know you?” Your voice is hardly a murmur, but he timidly steps away, the familiarity of his face bringing a quiet gasp to your parting lips.
“We, uh, we um, ran into each other earlier,”
“Oh no,” shame shudders your shoulders when you press your forehead into your palm to lightly rub your eyes, “God, I’m so sorry-”
“No, no, it’s okay! Really, it’s okay. It was an accident-”
“I should have watched where I was going-”
“Well, I should have, too.”
With a creased forehead, your body is still recovering from your unexpected nap, and you’re trying to feign bravery to return your eyes to the stranger whose hair is hidden within a black beanie, yet blonde tufts brush the tips of his ears. Dimples illuminate his rising cheeks from the tiny grin embellishing his expression and dialogue disappears from your tongue at the noticing of how exquisite he is.
“Kim Namjoon,” his large hand swallows yours as it did minutes ago, but this time in a polite shake of greeting.
“I’m [Y/N],” you nod seeing his grin widen to cause a silent sweep of relief to your system.
“Wait a minute,” your eyelids enlarge from the recognition now embracing your thoughts. Flashbacks from high school smother you immediately when the images of a quiet persona who sauntered the hallways with the intelligence of an Einstein clicks on a lightbulb subconsciously. “I do know you, we-” wetting your lips, you stammer in fear of being wrong, “We went to the same grade school a few years ago. You- you beat me at the math competition! Wh- what brings you to Gyeongju?”
“College,” his voice is shaky for you to jolt at the realization that you’re still shaking his hand- roughly you might add, awkwardly releasing to return your limb to your side. It’s already humiliating enough to stand before him after plummeting into his side when first arriving to this destination, to then making a fool of yourself sleeping in front of him to also awaken to ruin all ounce of potential conversation you could have had. Preparing yourself for the worst, you wince, wishing you could slip under the covers of your bedroom to hide away forever. “What about you? Are you attending University here, too?”
“I- erm, about that-” There’s not a way for you to explain, because there isn’t much to say other than your heart belonged to another career path. “I received a job offer here. One that I thought would provide good benefits than my original plan, but it’s not what I expected,” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow igniting a surge in frantic slews of sentences from your mouth, “I mean, I love it. I really do, it’s- it’s what I love to do, but I guess- I want- I want more from it. But I don’t know how to- I-” Warm chuckles leave his lips that halts your rambling in a heartbeat, “I talk way too much, I’m sorry-”
“You’re not talking too much. You’re fine, I promise.” a brief spark settles a reminder of your budding attraction toward him that your chest heats with a dark hue of red; your arms slide to cross over your chest in an attempt at hugging yourself- timorously beaming up at him to search his tender gaze. “You know, if you’re up for it, there’s a restaurant not too far from here that has the best pasta I’ve ever had,” Namjoon’s fingers disappear into the pockets of his jeans- nervously rocking on his heels because after all these years he never thought he would run into anyone he once acquainted with in his younger days, but here you are, standing before him in all your glory. You were someone he admired from afar who treated him as though he was part of the team versus an outcast as others preferred him to be. But you were different. You never saw anyone as below you, and though the pair of you never blossomed into a friendship, you at least treated him with kindness despite the rumors pupils whispered in the foyers. “I already planned on going there today actually-”
“I’d love to!” Your fingertips shut your lips from the excitement you didn’t mean to interrupt him with, “I mean, I uh, I’d- I’d like that very much, thank you,”
It’s strange how the imagination of a world can seem so real, and the awareness of how close he is bringing flutters of butterflies within your stomach while your ears tune in to the scuffling sounds of your footsteps prodding along the route. No matter how hard you contemplate, whatever vision you had at the lake isn’t coming to you, but the consistent feeling that you’re experiencing brings the suspicion that whatever you dreamt is now becoming a reality. 
To be continued....
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anunvalidcritic · 4 years
Text
WATCHMEN (series) EP2
(DISCLAIMER: MY OPINION IS MY OWN AND CAN BE DEEMED INVALID TO THOSE WHO DON’T CARE FOR IT.)
We ended off on a big cliffhanger so let’s see where we’re going to be taken from there...
                          MARTIAL FEATS OF COMANCHE
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Look at all those typewriters
Oh shit, so we’re German alrighty then. I speak German as well.
“Hello, boys, what are you doing over here? Fighting the Germans? Has it ever done you any harm, of course, some whites folks lying and any  Asian Americans papers told you that the Germans ought to be wiped out for the sake of humanity and democracy. But I ask you boys; what is democracy? Do you enjoy the same rides as the white people do in America? Are you rathered treated over there as second class citizens? Can you get a seat in a theatre where white people seat or can you even ride in the south in the same streetcar as white people? And how about the law; is lynching and the most horrible cruelties connected there with a lawful proceeding in a democratic country. Now all of this is entirely different in Germany. Colored people have mighty fine position in business in Berlin and other German cities. Why then fight the germans you have been the tool of the egotistic rich in america and there is nothing in the whole game for you but broken bones, horrible wounds, and death. To carry the gun in service of America is not an honor but a shame throw it away and come over to the German line and you will find friends who will help you along.” - GERMAN SOLDIER/YOUNG AFRICAN AMERICAN SOLIDER/YOUNG & OLD WHEELCHAIR MAN
Sorry for the long monologue above but it was to powerful for it not to be posted. 
damn she just rolled him away as if they weren’t just at a crime scene
breathe ANGELA breathe
damn 105 and still alive .... wow
“He had skeletons in his closet.” - WHEELCHAIR MAN
His name is now WILL
Well ANGELAs heading back to the crime scene
“Oh I read it I just don’t believe it.” - NEWSPAPER SALESMAN
I bet there looking at those wheelchair tracks right now...
LOOKING GLASS really just came into that car and the first thing he asked if he had any food. 
MEMORABLE DIALOGUE
LOOKING GLASS - “Was he high?”
LADY KNIGHT - “He might’ve done some blow.”
LOOKING GLASS - “Sounds like quite a party.”
LADY KNIGHT - “My kids were there.”
LOOKING GLASS - “Your kids.”
LADY KNIGHT - “...Fuck you, you shiny fuck. What are you interegating me now?”
LOOKING GLASS - “Why would I interegate you?”
LADY KNIGHT - “Cuz you’re a cold motherfucker glass.”
LOOKING GLASS - “Then why am I crying under here.” 
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This was quite intense for that short amount of town. 
So they’re just gonna touch his body without gloves on at all???
FLASHBACK
ANGELA and CALVIN are dancing and it’s Christmas Eve. 
“There’s somebody in our house.“ - ANGELA
WOOOW this dude is bold af
SHE FLEW BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY GOD!!!!!!!!
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She was out for 3 days!
JUDD and ANGELA having a little heart to heart after being fucked up by the same group of people.
They’re the only 2 people in the force that survived... 
THE WHITE NIGHT
PRESENT
She looks like she wants to break some shit.
“So are you coming or are you fucking breathing?” - RED SCARE
That NIXON statue kinda threw me for a loop lol
Why the fuck would you throw a glass bottle at the police??? (like Ik your mad but damn.)
I think it’s safe to say that ANGELA let some of her anger out on that man...
AYYE HENRY LOUIS GATES JR. 
WILLIAM’s DREAMLAND THEATRE (his parents owned the theatre)
MEMORABLE DIALOGUE
ANGELA - “Can you take a rain check?”
KIDS GRANDPA - “I can take a real check. *ANGELA proceeds to pull out her pocketbook and writes a check* ...Must be satisfying putting those Redfordations to work.”
ANGELA - “Get the fuck off my porch.”
lol, that little girl said, “keep walking before I stab you in the butt.”
Those Martian Blocks are pretty fucking cool.
TOPHER SHOOK
Is that Orville Peck playin’ in the background??
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(he lowkey looks like he can be on the show...)
Ig I would’ve knocked that shit over to if I didn’t like the information I just received.
                                   AMERICAN HERO STORY
“WARNING: The Federal Communications Commission has determined the following content to be emotionally harmful. Young children should not view this content under any circumstances. Even if supervised by a Parent or Guardian the views and opinions expressed, including the depictions of persons of color and members of the LGTBQA+ community do not reflect any official policy or position of the US Government. This program contains graphic language, violence, nudity, misogyny, racism, anti-Semitism, hate crimes, and depictions of sexual assault. Be advise.”
TOPHER just seatin’ there lookin’ at the screen can it start already. 
LOOKING GLASS keeps that mask on at all times. 
Who tf is that talkin’ about getting shot in the head and washing up onto the Boston Harbor?? Do sounds like BATMAN.
 At least he didn’t knock that little kid upside his head. 
WOAH THAT MOTHERFUCKER SHOT HIS FUCKING EAR!!!
ROFL THE WAY THIS DUDE CAME IN THROUGH THE WINDOW
DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD YOU HAVE TO thROW A CANNED FOOD ITEM IN ORDER FOR IT TO HAVE AN IMPACT LIKE THAT!?!?!?
I have to say that this man is very skilled with a shard of glass
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Okay, so you’re just going to continue to shoot the rest of bullets into one of your accomplices??? *make it make sense*
Wow ok, so we're going all out with the headbanging then??
“Who am I, when I was little every time I would look into the mirror I saw a stranger starring back at me. He was very very angry. Hot, vibrating electricity with no place to ground it.” - HOODED JUSTICE
this dude is dramatic af lol but this is his story I’ll let him tell it...
SENATOR JOE truly is an ol’ country boy with that accent rofl
And ANGELA is down for the count
LOL she played that shit off well
Night vision goggles ok ok that’s cool
She found something.....
OH FUCK NO BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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So this man is pretty every day on repeat like it’s Groundhog’s Day or something. 
“When is a lie not a lie?“ - OZYMANDIAS
“When it’s acting.” - MAID
HA, he was rude af to MR. PHILLIPS
So there recreating the seen of how DR. MANHATTAN came to be...
OZYMANDIAS is one crazy mothertucker....
...tiny weiner...
.... wtf they all look alike.... oh that dude really died!
How long has WILL been in the bakery??
nvm not that long apparently lol
LOL he didn’t have to throw that shell from the boiled egg like that
This dude really does have “friends in high places” but he didn’t mean for her to literally check CAPTAIN JUDD’s closet smdh
------------
This episode was quite delightful and I’m ready to see what the next episode has to offer. Until then clean your hands, be careful of who and what you’re around, and don’t get so down in the dumps.
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txladyj-blog · 5 years
Text
Chapter 7 - This Time Around
a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​
Rating: Explicit
Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character
Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue
Chapters 15/?
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Lucky wasn’t something that Jess considered herself to be. Her life hadn’t been unlucky per se, but if it wasn’t for her determined approach to life, strokes of bad luck would have dragged her down altogether. It had taken the end of the world before it dawned on her that maybe it wasn’t responsible for things that went wrong, it was merely that she’d been unable to see life’s small wins, the glimmers of goodness and positivity that shone through when she was too busy occupying herself with the darkness.
She didn’t know if it was luck that had led her to where she was in the city or if it was down to her own methodical and logical approach of planning and protecting herself. She had managed to part drag, part walk Merle back to her apartment, administer enough painkillers to knock out an Ox and forage for enough food to keep them both going for a comfortable number of weeks. Merle did nothing but sleep for the first four days after Jess had painstakingly sewn his stump up and she was glad for it. She needed the peace after fretting he would die on her in the night and feast on the plump flesh of her legs, turning her into one of the mindless monsters that now roamed the streets. She checked on him religiously and returned from every supply run with caution, her knife drawn and a loud knock at the door before she committed to entering.
Jess was smart, it was no small feat to gather medical supplies and weapons along with setting up for a life of self-sustainability and loneliness, but armed with enough self-belief and her weapons from the Faire, she worked her way around the buildings, using the rooftops as her pathways and dead soldiers and police officers as sources of body armor. She gathered herb cuttings from the balconies of other apartments, seeds for vegetables from a gardening store, buckets, tarp and plastic containers to collect water from precipitation and enough wood to carve arrows for her bow. She spent a large portion of her time in her new living space reading books from the library and trying to retain as much information about survival, self-defense, weapons, basic DIY and tools and hacks from books on doomsday prepping as possible. For Jess, knowledge was most definitely power after being thrust into the apocalypse with next to no useful skills.
After 8 days, her unexpected lodger finally woke from his blurred, meds induced slumber and tried to move around the room. Jess jumped to his aid but he quickly waved her off, the two of them having never spoke more than a few words to one another unless they had no other option. Despite their lack of communication, Jess was sure there was a kind of mutual respect forming between them. Merle had protested very little at everything she’d done for him, accepted her help, her food, her desire to keep him in one place until he recovered enough and he tried to explain as much as he could about how he'd ended up sawing off his own hand. He also never made it a secret that as soon as he was well enough, he would be out of her hair and heading back to the camp to find Daryl. Upon finishing up the stitches on his arm, he had thanked her sincerely and told her she had balls for a little, fat kid. She’d accepted the backhanded compliment with a surprising ease and had to admit that she was impressed by his resilience.
“Gotta stretch my damn legs.” He grumbled as he wandered aimlessly around the room, picking up books and throwing them down again with his one remaining hand. He studied her weapons, neatly hung on hooks on the wall, her body armor and boots on a coat stand near the door and squinted at the planters that filled the balcony outside. She had left the door open, needing to air the room out and spare herself the agony of breathing in Merle’s thunderous flatulence while he slept. Another one of his redeeming features, she figured. She watched as he swiped up his leather vest and struggled to slip it on over his shoulders without bumping his stump. Jess stood up from her spot on the sofa surrounded by books and took hold of the back of his vest, holding it out so he was able to thread his arm through with ease. He shot her an irritated look but she decided not to react, knowing that accepting help was probably not something he was used to.
When he sat back down on the opposite couch, she grabbed two tumblers and poured him a whiskey before filling her own glass. His eyes widened when he noted the bottle. A Nice, expensive whiskey. The likes that he would have stolen rather than bought from a store back in the day.
“It’s what you came to the city for, right? Booze?” She queried as she passed him the drink.
He accepted gratefully and held the glass up, taking in the deep color of the liquid and the long-missed smell.
“That’s right.” He grinned before knocking the drink back in one go. “Best painkiller out there.”
Jess scoffed and sipped her own drink. She’d never been much of a drinker, especially not hard liquor, but since she’d been in the city, she found herself able to understand a little more of why Merle sought out something mind altering. It was an escape, one in which she needed sometimes, just maybe not as often as someone like Merle Dixon. She lifted a leg and shoved the bottle across the table towards him with her sock-covered toes, signaling for him to have as much as he wanted.
“Get trashed if you want, better you do it here than out there.” She shrugged.
Not about to argue, he quickly poured himself another helping and this time, took his time working though it. Jess could feel his eyes baring into her soul as she skimmed the words on a page of a book she’d opened in her lap. She glanced up and stared right back at him, no longer afraid or intimidated by the old redneck with the cuss-laden vocabulary. If she could haul herself through the woods and get herself into a safe and seemingly maintainable situation in the middle of a walker ridden city, she could deal with Merle.
“That shit about my brother that barbie doll read from ya little diary that day…” He mentioned.
Here we go. She thought.
 “…It true?”
Jess slapped the book shut and threw it onto the couch next to her as she lay back and huffed, sending strands of her dark hair billowing into the air above her.  
“Been dying to ask me about that, haven’t you?” She sighed.
“Was on the top of my list of priorities, after not dyin’, of course.” He grinned, swirling his drink around in the glass in front of him.  
She was never a liar. Lies always spiraled into something complicated and regretful. Lies were responsible for many failed friendships and she concluded that even now, at the end of days, lies were still as poisonous as ever. But she also wasn’t about to tell Merle the complete truth about her true feelings for Daryl.
“I like him. But I think I was confusing a connection as friends with something more. I was wrong.”
A throaty chuckle emerged from his throat and for a moment, he winced in pain as if the juddering movement of his body had aggravated the life-changing wound on his arm.
“Shame. Kid could use some action. He’s wound tighter than a monkey’s nut.” He quipped. “Can’t recall the last time he got laid. Not that he’d tell me. Always was quieter than a damn mouse about shit.”
Not feeling the need to join him in the direction he wanted to steer the conversation, she just shook her head and smiled at him.
“Barbie, she uh-she tried it with him first, y’know. He turned her down. I was second fiddle but that’s alright with me. Pussy presents itself on a plate n’ who am I to say no?” He said, levelling his gaze at her and carefully observing her reaction. Giving nothing away, she kept her face as nonchalant as possible while her insides churned at the thought of Sarah trying something with Daryl.
“She hit on Daryl, huh?” She asked casually.
“True as i'm sittin' here now. He said no. Might be ‘cause he aint got a scooby what the hell he’s doin’ with the females. Or maybe he was holdin’ out for ya.”
The thought alone made Jess laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. It was outrageous to even consider it now she knew what she knew. Now she’d heard how he really felt.
“Pretty sure he never saw me like that. He made it clear he didn’t give a shit about me” She expressed, finishing her whiskey and contemplating another when Merle snatched the bottle from the table and re-filled his glass. At the rate he was drinking, he’d have the whole bottle down in an hour. Nevertheless, she held out her glass and nodded to it. He dutifully re-filled it and she sat back again.
“One thing I know about my baby brother? He’s always been real off with folks. Don’t trust nobody. No friends, no nothin. But he spent all the hours god gave him with you at that camp. When he found out you’d skedaddled in the small hours, he lost his shit.” He explained with a knowing look on his face which Jess tried to ignore.
“He did, huh?” She mumbled
“Almost shot blondie in the face with a bolt. Got up on his soap box n’ told the whole group what she’s been getting’ up to. Damn good job I don’t blush easy.” He smirked. “He’s lookin’ for ya.”
Jess shook her head again and reached into her pocket, retrieving a packet of cigarettes and throwing them into his lap across the coffee table that divided them. Merle looked down at them in disbelief.
“Don’t look so shocked. I’m a good host.” She quipped.
She’d picked up cigarettes and whiskey for him while sweeping a store for food. She had everything she wanted and needed so far save for a few comforts like ice cream and electricity. So, she figured giving Merle something he would be thankful to have once he woke up was only fair.
“He just feels guilty.” She muttered, dismissing his observation of his younger brother.
“Maybe.” He shrugged as he ripped the pack open, propped a smoke between his lips and rummaged in his jeans for his lighter. He paused before he lit the end, peering at her over the cigarette. She offered him a small nod and picked up a heavy glass ashtray from the floor and positioned it in the center of the table, gestures that told him she was fine with him smoking in her apartment and were met with an even more surprised expression. He sparked up, sat back and waved the small, white stick around as he spoke.
“Ahh I don’t wanna talk about no sentimental stuff, but the kid liked ya.”
“No, he didn’t.” Jess retorted straight away.
A flash of exasperation flickered across his face and he raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“Argue all ya want. I practically raised that boy. He’s a little odd but I ain’t never seen him flip his lid like that about some skirt. Should go back n’ find him. Or, let him find you. ‘Cause he will. Could find a flea in a hay bale, my brother.”
It was non-negotiable to her. Daryl had made it clear how he felt and she wasn’t about to go back to a place where she was constantly ridiculed and humiliated with no one to step in and defend her. Jess took a gulp of the liquor and winced at the warmth that radiated from her stomach. Whiskey really wouldn’t have been her drink of choice. She wished she’d picked up some rum, or spent the time bothering to find some Sam Adams.
“I’m not going back there. I know you’ll go and find him and you owe me no loyalty, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him where I am” She requested.
Merle’s eyes dropped to his glass and then back up to Jess’s waiting face, over and over as he thought over the prospect of withholding important information that Daryl would want to know. Jess knew she was asking a lot of him, but the thought of being found and forced to face what had happened before she’d left, along with the heartbreaking confession from Daryl to Merle about her meaning nothing to him was too much for her to handle. She wanted a new start, alone, with no reliance or ties to anyone. Merle was still glaring at her intermittently but she paid it no mind, figuring she would get her answer soon enough and if she didn’t like it, she would be forced to move on and find somewhere else to live.
“Saved my life.” He mentioned. “Got me booze and smokes. Sewed up my arm. Hell, I’m pretty sure ya had me doped up on some pretty shit hot pain meds these last few days too. I may be from the wrong side of the tracks but I ain't no dumbass, sweet cheeks. know when I owe somebody.”
It had never even crossed her mind when she stood in the dark store, gawping down at a bloodied, mutilated and half-dead Merle, that she should just walk away and let him die or kill him herself. Instinct kicked in and she reacted in a calmer, more together way than she had ever done previously, knowing that she had to get him out of there and away from any danger. There was simply no other option. It occurred to her as she was sitting there opposite him that she had already come a long way, she was no longer as scared. She was more accepting of her situation, more tactical and shrewder. Now, more able to survive alone than ever before, simply because she had given herself no other choice. She stifled a small smile when she studied him, looking over his heavily bandaged arm and his bloodstained shirt. She made a mental note to make sure he did some physical therapy and got a new shirt before she let him go anywhere.
“I can’t believe you cut off your hand, you fucking psycho.” She said.
“It was that or be Walker jerky.” He replied.
The two of them giggled and Merle finished his smoke and glass of alcohol while Jess got up and started to prepare him something to eat from the piles of tinned food she’d hoarded. Now, she was providing for two of them for the time being and she’d felt it necessary to stock up. She’d hauled him out from near death, so she wasn’t about to starve the man that had been surprisingly pleasant to her, going against everything she’d expected of him. Maybe, just maybe, there was the same element in Daryl after all. But that no longer mattered to her.
That night, while her houseguest snored noisily on the couch in an alcohol induced coma, Jess settled on her bed and opened her journal. 
Merle has turned out to be much more personable than I ever imagined. Maybe that’s because I saved his ass. Or, maybe it’s because underneath it all, he’s actually OK as long as you know how to deal with him. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I trust him. But right now, I have the upper hand and he is relying on me to get him well enough to leave and go and find Daryl.
Daryl. It’s not like I don’t think about him. I do. I do miss him. Or, rather, I miss the person I thought he was and I remind myself of what I heard that night. I should have known better, it’s not the first time I developed a crush on somebody that was way out of my league. It’s my frequent reminder not to get attached to anyone, not to feel anything for other people or it will be me that suffers. There are only a few survivors left and I have to look out for myself. It’s been five weeks and I’ve not seen another living soul apart from the alcoholic redneck that sleeps on my couch and stinks to high heaven.
Besides this, I have set up quite the fortress here, I think I could live here for a long time. That’s if Merle doesn’t tell Daryl where I am. I’ll be forced to move if he does. I don’t want to be found. Just leave me be. This way, I may get physically hurt but I can deal with that, I’m studying books to deal with every possible outcome. But I just can’t handle more emotional turmoil. As much as I miss him.
I managed to get a punchbag from one of the other apartments in the building along with some weights. I intend to train and improve my stamina, heaven knows when I’m going to have to run and keep running, so I intend to be ready for anything. The herbs are taking and the bell peppers I planted on the roof are well on their way. So far, I’m doing well. I just can’t figure out how to get rid of the Walker behind the grate in the elevator shaft on the first floor. But he’s not a problem right now. His cage keeps him contained and some days I even wonder if he can hear me when I sit on the steps and tell him about my day.
Maybe I am going crazy. 
 =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Daryl had been looking for Sophia for hours. Days actually, but on this one particular occasion, in the blistering sun atop of a nervous horse that had bolted at the sound of a Walker and sent him tumbling down a hill into a watery area below, he was sure he’d had better days and was seriously rethinking his belief in Sophia still being alive. But still he pressed on, even injured at the bottom of a ravine, his eyes fluttered open in the stark light of the sun and his body thrummed with pain, but he managed to get up, treat his wounds and carry on.
God damn horse.
Where he got his strength and determination, he wasn’t sure but he could only really credit his terrible home life and childhood for instilling a kind of armor around him. A protective wall that he never let anyone pass. Surviving was second nature to him; he simply didn’t know any other way to be. Sophia was a child, alone in the walker-filled woods and Daryl couldn’t help but think of the time when he had found himself lost, back in the days when Walkers were something one only saw in a horror movie. He was merely a child and was missing for eleven days. Little did his father know, Daryl eventually found his own way home, wandered into the kitchen and fixed himself a sandwich like nothing had happened. It was Daryl’s way, even back then, he relied on no one by himself and as the years passed, he still lived by the same rule; just get on with it.
Of course, nothing was ever easy anymore and his departure from the ravine was trickier than he’d planned. Reaching the top by literally dragging his bleeding body through the mud and shoving away hallucinations of his brother, ridiculing him for not making any effort to find him. He had to keep telling himself it was down to him hitting his head and not insanity creeping in. Slumped onto the flat woodland ground, he was never more grateful to see even terrain before. He glanced down at the state of his body, a broken bolt in his side from the fall sent spikes of pain through his veins that turned his stomach and blurred his vision. His head thudded back onto the mud as he took a minute to compose himself and figure out how he was going to get to his feet with his side impaled by a piece of wood.
“So, you can teach me not to die but you can’t quite manage it yourself, huh?”
Jess’s voice made his eyes snap open and he frantically scanned the area around him, seeing nothing but trees until she stepped out from behind a tree, her pretty smile broad and her clothes clean.
“Jess?” He croaked.
“Time to get up, sleepy head.” She instructed, crossing her arms. Daryl noticed her woolen sweater looked brand new, her hair was shiny and well-conditioned, her skin was clean.
“I-I tried to find you.” He rasped, sitting up and sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth when the pain rampaged through his nerves.
“Took a bolt to the side for the girl, but you just gave up on me.” She pointed out.
Daryl’s sweaty brow furrowed when he peered up at her as the sun shot out from behind her, silhouetting her in the light until she was gone. He quickly checked over his shoulders and rubbed at his face.
“Jess?”
Nothing. She wasn’t really there. Nothing more than a mirage, a figment of his imagination and most likely a result of a hard knock to the head. Seeing her again made his heart hurt regardless of if she was real or not. He missed her and the burden of ceasing to look for her after finding her note was now weighing even heavier on his shoulders. His hands fell to his sides, clawing up clumps of dirt as he drew in a deep breath and pushed through the pain of getting to his feet.
  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Carol rapped softly on the door before turning the handle and quietly gliding inside. The tray in her hand contained soup and water that she’d prepared after hearing that Daryl was refusing food and just wanted to get patched up and back out into the woods. Carol hadn’t ever felt gratitude like it, nor had she ever been so surprised at one person’s sheer selflessness. Her child had been missing for days and Daryl had worked tirelessly, relentlessly and without any decent rest in order to find her. She didn’t know if he was harboring some kind of guilt over Jess and his brother, but as long as he was using it to find her little girl, she couldn’t complain. That was until now, until he’d almost died in the process.
The room was dim, the drapes drawn and the surfaces dusty from neglect. Daryl lay facing away from her, his side sporting a large square of gauze and bandages. Every part of his exposed skin was covered in scars, Carol could see that some of them were new, from the past day. But some, the largest ones were at least a decade old and her chest constricted with thoughts of the violence that she had known and how it could cause such trophies of trauma upon a person’s skin.
Placing the tray on the nightstand, she leaned over him and tenderly kissed the side of his head. Initially, he recoiled but she knew why and waited until he relaxed and let her offer her small token of appreciation and affection. He rolled over slightly, able to catch her eye for a moment and seeing them filled with worry. She sat on the edge of the bed.
“I couldn’t go look for Merle.” He whispered. “Gave up on Jess. Can’t find Sophia neither. Fuckin’ useless.”
Having known him only a few months, it was enough for her to come to the conclusion that Daryl was not like other people. On the outside, he was hostile but inside, he was sensitive, shouldering blame for deaths and caring so deeply about others that it ate away at him when they lost someone. But Daryl never spoke about it, preferring instead to internalize it all and simmer away, alone at the edge of the camp while glaring at the others and trying to understand how they could be so open and free with their emotions. Daryl never uttered a word about his feelings. That was, unless it was to Carol.
He couldn’t figure out exactly when it was that they’d become close but he suspected that his loss of Jess and Merle and Carol’s husband being turned by Walkers had somehow brought them together. He knew she was a broken soul, just as he was but neither of them needed to discuss it. Out of everyone, Carol was the one that seemed to understand him the most without even trying.
“No, Daryl. You did more for my little girl today than her daddy did in her entire life.” She promised.
He continued to look at her, saying nothing but speaking volumes with his expression. He was tired, almost defeated and knew that she would manage to say something to quell the exhausting guilt in his heart.
“And Jess… she didn’t want to be found.” She added.
Daryl resumed his previous position, fluffing up the pillows under his head and settling down.
“How are you feeling?” She asked.
“Like Andrea shot me.” He grunted.
An unfortunate accident it may have been, but Andrea’s trigger-happy attitude from the RV that evening had left Daryl in the dirt with a bullet graze to his temple and in his delirious state, he was unable to fathom exactly what had happened. Carol thought it was no wonder Andrea had mistaken him for a Walker after he’d staggered from the trees, covered in dirt and mud, snarling at everyone with a crazed look in his eye. A split-second decision was all it took and as luck had it, Andrea was still a bad shot with a rifle.
“You need to recover before you go back out there. I know you; you’ll want to push it. You almost got yourself killed. Took a bolt and a bullet today, all for Sophia. I can’t even begin to thank you.” She confessed.
“Don’t want no thanks.” He dismissed “I didn’t do nothin’ that Rick or Shane wouldn’t have done.”
Carol scoffed from behind him, rendering his last sentence as complete rubbish.
“I don’t see them lying in a bed with a hole in their sides. You’re every bit as good as them. Every bit.” She affirmed.
A silence from him told her it was her time to depart, pushing Daryl too much was likely to result in him lashing out, especially when she considered his current state of mind along with the fact that he was physically exhausted. She got to her feet and tapped the glass on the tray, the ringing of her nails on the glass reminding him that she wanted him to eat and drink something. In the doorway, she paused when she heard him speak again.
“Sophia, she's out there, I know it. I found her doll” He murmured.
“Maybe. Maybe Jess is too.” She suggested. “You can admit it, y’know”
He rolled onto his back, craning his neck to see her stood half in, half out of the room with her arms wrapped around herself.
“Admit what?”
“That you miss her. I know you two were good friends.” It was a hazardous approach for Carol to take due to her knowledge of his reluctance to talk about Jess. Every time someone mentioned her name his temper flared and he wasted no time in reminding everyone that she was probably dead and that they shouldn’t bother talking about her anymore. Carol knew it was a defense mechanism and in true Daryl form, his rage expelled itself in a series of abusive and offensive remarks.
“Ain’t gotta admit shit. Leave me alone.” He grunted.
“OK, but just eat something. Please. Or you won’t have the strength to get out of bed, let alone pick up that crossbow.”
With that, she left the room and closed the door behind her. A few hours sleep and some kind of sustenance would undoubtedly help his mood a little, but she wasn’t betting on him becoming a ray of sunshine anytime soon. She knew he had a better version of himself inside, but the loss of his friend and brother had began to chip away at it, eroding it day by day and she worried that eventually, there would be nothing left.
  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A month had passed and Jess was sitting on the steps of the stairwell in her apartment block. She now had free reign of the entire building, every dwelling now empty and safe thanks to her tireless efforts to secure the building and ensure she had enough space to keep any supplies she might need. Her days had become routine, but she liked it that way. The mornings consisted of rising from her bed at sunrise and heading up to the next floor, where she had turned an elderly couples’ home into a gym. An hour’s rigorous exercise a day and a limited diet had seen her weight drop drastically over the four weeks she had been in residence and she was now confident she could run a life-saving distance without stopping at least. Late mornings were spent tending to the growing vegetables and herbs and checking the main street below for any swellings in the number of Walkers. If there was, she would make her way across the rooftops to the other side of town, where she would set off firecrackers or make enough noise to wake the dead all over again in order to draw them away and set them on a different path that didn’t include gathering outside her new home. In the afternoons, she scavenged and spent some time carving arrows on the steps with Ben- The Walker trapped in the elevator shaft. He wore a janitor’s uniform with his name embroidered on one side. She waffled on as if they were two best friends in a bar, telling him about her day and even regaling him with tales from comic cons and her opinions on the best beers in Texas. The evenings consisted of rooftop target practice and tedious conversations with Merle while she aided him with his physical therapy. He complained non-stop, telling her that he didn’t believe in all her ‘therapy shit’ and that he would be just fine without it. Eventually, he yielded and allowed her to help him with the advice of yet more books from the library.
Ben swayed back and forth as she held up an arrow for him to see, although she wasn’t quite sure if he could really see anything. More that he just seemed to know she was there with whatever part of his brain was still active enough to make him walk and want to eat people.
“I’m getting pretty good at this.” She mused with a smile. Ben reached through the elevator grate, his purple fingers with snapped nails grasping at her hand holding the arrow. She quickly snatched it away and slid the arrow into her quiver before standing up and throwing it over one shoulder. Her daily supply run had taken longer than usual after she ran into some unsavory undead in a camping store while trying to bring back more gas canisters. She had returned with her prize but decided to take some time to herself to carve some arrows before she had to endure Merle’s uncomfortable stare and chain smoking.
“Later, dude.” She said to Ben over her shoulder as she stomped up the steps to her front door. She stopped when she noticed the note pinned to the wood.
‘Gone to find my brother. Took some food and meds. Thanks, Sugar tits. M.’
Next Chapter 
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im-a-special-bebe · 4 years
Text
Beautiful Liar
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*
Warnings: Violence, language, Drug Lord AU
(Reposted from my AFF account)
Molly’s his adopted sister, Mary Jane’s his best friend, and HeroinE’s the pseudonym his favorite author goes by – at least that’s what he tells the outsiders. Drug Lord Chae Hyungwon has the right friends in the right places, because the ones in the wrong place at the wrong time don’t make it out. He’s got the keys to the castle and his eyes on the gold coffers. He just doesn’t expect to find a different kind of treasure.
*
When Hyungwon walked into his biggest rival’s grandest casino, he didn’t expect the night to include broken bottles and scraped knuckles – and he hadn’t even been kicked out yet.
When Yoon Mi Cha decided to head to her father’s main business for a drink after a rough day, she didn’t expect a hailstorm of bullets.
But as they were both about to find out, C’est La Vie.
*
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Part 1 | Part 2 (Coming soon)
Chapter – 1: Fake People Showing Fake Love to Me
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‘Another water for you, Sir?’ the smartly-dressed bartender asked politely as he wiped a glass down, though Hyungwon could feel the judgement in the man’s stare.
‘Yes. Don’t like to start the party too early.’ Or at all in this case, he thought as he managed a wry smile that turned out to be more of a grimace.
How the kingpin of an entire country’s illegal drug business had been the one to end up on a recon mission to scope out an enemy was anyone’s guess (especially since he had no clue what to look for in the first place), but Hyungwon grudgingly put that thought away for now.
He looked around the large room, a slightly disdainful expression taking over his handsome features. Yoon Moon Jae, esteemed owner of this establishment – and his primary business rival – had taken being part of the underground much too literally. Not only was the huge casino three floors below the first level, but the cavernous space was exactly that – a man-made cave, complete with exposed fake, jagged rock walls. The heavily mountainous appearance was lit up by scones of actual fire that cast flickering shadows around the hundred odd playing tables and seating areas and created an ominous aura along with contrasting chrome pendant lights. The overall effect was like stepping into a sci-fi movie.
Nonetheless, the actual centerpiece was what Hyungwon was seated beneath. A large amount of funds – gained by encroaching on his territory, no doubt – had gone to the massive chandelier that hung above. The behemoth glass giant was made up of a beehive of thousands of little shelves that contained countless colorful bottles of liquor, and it was these shelves that were lined with LED-lights, hideously incongruous to the nature of a chandelier itself. The glass converged to a steep point that coincided with the center of the bar he was at.
Lovely, let’s just wait for that to fall on our heads.
As a rule, the young, twenty-six-year-old drug lord (and prominent mafia affiliate) absolutely detested bar stools. Per the usual pattern, his tall stature ensured that he was hunched over the tiny seat, his head resting in one of his long-fingered hands, and he was sorely tempted to just slump down on the bar instead. His body started to settle into an uncaring slouch, and he winced as he heard the distinct crack of his phone hitting the floor after falling out of his pocket as a result.
‘Goddammit.’ He cursed, impatiently brushing his ash blond hair out of his eyes as he bent to pick up the broken device. Through the corner of his beautifully-shaped and well-trained eye, he noted that someone had taken up the seat beside him.
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- - - _ _ _- - - _ _ _ - - -
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‘Oh Gosh, you scared me!’ Mi Cha exclaimed as the man next to her straightened up.
For a moment she forgot how to speak.
Her first thought was that it was unfair for a man to have lips like that – puffy, plump, a delicate natural shade of petal pink that women would kill for. Mi Cha couldn’t help but stare at how beautifully his perfect cupid’s bow aligned with his long, straight nose. She’d seen her share of pretty faces – she was a model after all, and about fifty fashion shoots later, all the features seemed to blend together, each prettier than the next, and yet none compared to his ethereal exquisiteness. Her curious eyes wandered over his high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and his hooded eyes, colored a deep aquamarine by obvious lenses, but so eerily electric all the same.
A flat eyebrow, dark against his flawless skin arched at her questioningly, and Mi Cha realized that maybe her perusal had become a little too obvious.
‘Didn’t see you there.’ He said at length, his voice a lazy, gravelly drawl as she cleared her throat.
‘Yeah, me neither.’ She replied as the bartender turned away, having noted her order of a Tequila Sunrise. She was starting off strong with the purpose of being drunk enough to forget her own name. One cranky director, two rather handsy co-models, and three different bouts of not-her-fault dressing downs later, she figured she had enough justification.
Too bad all she got was half a sip.
When the first bottle shattered, Mi Cha assumed that someone had probably just been clumsy. When the second one broke, she thought that maybe an argument had broken out. It wasn’t until the third one burst right in front of her that she heard the distinct pew, pew, pew, and falling bodies.
That’s when the screams began.
In the resulting mayhem that caused a maelstrom of people moving in all directions, there was nowhere to run. The chrome lights overhead exploded as they were struck by stray (or purposeful, there was no way to tell) bullets, further reducing the visibility until only the haunting illumination from the wall scones remained. Her blood froze in her veins as she uncomprehendingly lowered herself to the floor, crouching under the bar for shelter, her father’s gruff voice ringing in her ears.
‘You here that sound, my girl?’
Seven-year-old Mi Cha had nodded hesitantly as they stood in the vast garden which could be considered the backyard of her house, both unsure of everything and a little scared of why the man she trusted most suddenly had a weird gun in his hand.
‘Daddy, what is that?’ she’d asked, pointing to the strange attachment.
‘A silencer,’ he’d replied as he’d shot a tree again, ‘If you ever hear this, you run as far as you can, understood? Promise me.’
Her tiny pinky finger had quietly wrapped around his.
The forgotten memories swirled in her head, everything too fast for coherent thought, and as she snapped her head around, searching for a way out of this hellhole, for the second time that night, her eyes met startlingly bright sea-green.
The stranger from before blinked slowly. Before her overwhelmed mind could register that although he shared her uncertain position, his gaze exposed an unnerving calmness, unyielding hands gripped her in a punishing grasp and she was roughly dragged to her feet.
She stumbled on her tall heels, cursing the fact that she chose to come here straight after the shoot ended, and right after she was jerked upright, a harsh blow struck the side of her face.
And that was the first time she’d known what that felt like.
Tears reflexively streamed down her cheeks as she tried to get past the pounding in her brain. She fell into someone, and a now-familiar voice said to her lowly, ‘Hey, snap out of it.’
She looked up to see ash blond hair and full lips pressed together in a disapproving grimace.
‘So nice to finally meet you, Yoon Mi Cha.’
The woman turned and met the shallow, bloodshot eyes of a man she didn’t know.
‘What do you want from me?’
‘Why don’t you ask your father?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She said truthfully.
‘All in good time.’ was the chilling reply.
 Who’s this?’ his sleazy voice crowed as he gave the blond man behind her a once-over. Mi Cha felt a shiver run through her as she saw that they’d been surrounded by at least ten men, all clad in disheveled black suits in varying stages of disrepair, and each man a worrying degree of being more brutal-looking and ham-handed than the last.
‘N-No one.’ She managed shakily, and the middle-aged thug in front of her grinned, his beady black eyes flicking from her to their other captive.
The handsome stranger who now had a gun painfully shoved to his temple. Although he somehow looked more annoyed than appalled at the situation.
‘Nobodies don’t make the guest list~’ the thug said, his sing-song voice rousing laughter from his accomplices.
Mi Cha met the man’s eyes, his gaze steely and boring into her, and she knew that she couldn’t just let him die.
‘Boyfriend.’ She choked out, ‘he’s my boyfriend.’
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- - - _ _ _- - - _ _ _ - - -
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Not that Hyungwon fancied death-by-degenerate all that much, but he couldn’t help but feel a little miffed at being dragged into a mess that he hadn’t help create in the first place.
‘Let me do you guys a favor and make sure you stay together until death do you part.’ The apparent leader of this sorry band of miscreants cackled.
The only indication that he’d winced was given by the slight pursing of his lips as the man backhanded the young woman. This time, the force of it brought her to the glass-littered floor. This time, she didn’t get up.
He watched as a lackey carelessly gathered her slim body. With a thin strap of her deep-cut floor-length red dress slipping down one shoulder and one long, pale leg exposed by the slit that ran up to a few inches below her hip, she seemed rather fragile.  
‘Let’s take a hike, pretty boy.’ The man holding him jeered, distracting him from his observation.
Dear God, they need more work on their dialogues.
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- - - _ _ _- - - _ _ _ - - -
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Hyungwon had ended up in the empty back of a nondescript black van with his wrists cuffed to a handhold above his head. Apparently, his sardonic look hadn’t gone over well with the brutes for hire. His lovely companion had ended up tossed onto the dirty, thinly-carpeted floor of the vehicle, her hands restrained behind her back and pulling her body in what was sure to be a very uncomfortable position. However, she was still out cold, which was good, because she hadn’t been mentally present to experience the gangsters disgustingly grope her legs to remove her phone from her thigh holster strap. Unlike the rather daunting name and purpose, the thin material had only contained an ID, a credit card, a couple 50,000 won notes, and her flashy new iPhone. All the men had cared about was her communication device, and after apprehensively witnessing what had happened to her, he had wisely tossed his own cracked phone over.
He watched the lights zoom past outside the darkly tinted windows, and as they became scarcer, he noted that they were moving into the shadier parts of town. Where people like him roamed carelessly. A line from the conversation earlier kept spinning through his mind.
‘Why don’t you ask your father?’
She’d looked like she genuinely hadn’t known what was going on, or why she was being practically hunted.
A glance at the fallen ID by his Italian leather-clad left foot gave away the barest of details – Yoon Mi Cha, 25 years old, Resident of Seoul.
Still, a name was a start.
In the rush to get the victims away, their driver had ignored too many speed bumps to count, and as the car jumped from the impact from another one, the woman on the floor was jerked back into consciousness.
She struggled like a frenzied animal, trying to get free of her bindings, and panicked dry sobs fell from her mouth as she took in her surroundings. Her terrified dark eyes wandered rapidly before they settled on him as heaving breaths fell from her mouth in stuttered gasps.
‘Where are we?’
‘On the highway to hell, if you will.’
Despite her alarm, she scowled at him in irritation.
‘We have to get out of here.’ She said.
‘My necklace. There’s a bobby pin.’
The traffic lights they swept past painted her pale face with soft red and green through the dirty dimmed windows as multiple queries warred in her stunned gaze.
The clear winner was of course, “Who the hell are you?”, but she didn’t ask.
‘You’re not law enforcement.’ She said. It wasn’t a question.
‘Never said I was.’
With an almost bursting silence, she shuffled onto her knees and drew near before pausing apprehensively between his long, outstretched legs.
She had obviously come to the realization that since she was still hindered by her bound hands, there was only one way to get to the tiny object they needed – and she didn’t like it.
‘Yes, this was all my master plan to get you to breathe on me.’ Hyungwon deadpanned, impatient at her hesitation.
Her timidity gave way to a firm resolve as she moved closer.
And yet, for all his earlier speech, it was him who held unnaturally still when he felt her shallow exhales brush against his collarbone, her eyes never wavering from his.
The feared drug lord not-so-discreetly swallowed as her soft lips traced the impossibly thin polished platinum chain. Her teeth delicately scraped the skin between the toned planes of his chest to take the pin into her mouth and he finally let go of the air that had frozen in his lungs.
Hyungwon was utterly glad that their activities were hidden from the goons by a partition, even though something like that was of course most useful to keep away unnecessary distractions like noises – not to mention that it was the best way to contain blood splatter. He tried not to dwell on that for now since they’d been left alone, which was a great chance to escape.
Absolute amateurs. He’d never make the rookie mistake of letting captives be by themselves – much less do this kind of grunt work himself – but then again, this whole thing was not his style to begin with.
Silky strands of the woman’s long, dark hair tickled his cheek, drawing back his attention as she stretched to her limit, trying to somehow get the bobby pin into his hands. The awkward position also put her perky breasts, tantalizingly exposed by the low bodice of her gown right in his face, and for a second all he could think about was how perfectly they’d fit in the palm of his hand.
Not good.
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- - - _ _ _- - - _ _ _ - - -
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His aquamarine eyes had settled on her and every moment had felt like years as she’d burned with the icy fire of his steady gaze. Mi Cha had given out a shaky sigh of relief when his heavy lids had finally shut, allowing his lashes to brush the tops of his high cheekbones.
She pushed the pin from between her lips and into his hands.
Then his long fingers fumbled, and the blasted object would have been lost on the disgusting shag beneath them had it not been for her quick mouth catching it and settling it back into his grip again.
His startling irises sported a trace of sheepishness before he looked up to silently focus on tinkering with the cuffs.
‘Who are you, anyway?’ he asked her conversationally, as if they weren’t in the back of a dingy van speeding off to God knows where. As if she wasn’t the one who should have been questioning him instead.
‘You first.’
‘Hyungwon.’
She waited – with all of two syllables, that was barely an answer, let alone an introduction – but all he gave her was a sidelong glance and a raised eyebrow until she dropped it.
‘Mi Cha.’ She replied stubbornly.
‘Any idea why our lovely tour guides would come after you, Mi Cha?’ Hyungwon drawled.
Her temper flared, but was tamped down by the thought of the very real danger they were in.
‘I don’t know. I’m a model,’ – he briefly paused at that – ‘but I don’t have any connections that would get me in trouble like this.’
‘Well, it has to be something. They mentioned your father earlier.’
‘He doesn’t have anything to do with this either, he’s just a casino owner.’
‘The one we were at?’
‘Yeah, that’s the one. Someone must have pissed off someone else and now they’re after my father. Great.’
Mi Cha sighed in frustration, every passing minute making her more antsy as she rested her head on the partition that separated the back of the van from the driver’s area.  If she’d been paying attention, she’d have noticed the way his hands stilled infinitesimally, right before the cuff’s hinge gave way with a too-easy click under his practiced fingers.
But as it was, the large vehicle chose that moment to swerve, threateningly close to tipping over, and she’d have flown into the back hatch door had it not been for the strong arms that pulled her to safety. The van righted itself as she was yanked back, and as a result, Mi Cha found herself pressed face-first into Hyungwon’s collarbone, the light magnolia and mint scent of his expensive cologne filling her nostrils.
She tried to disentangle herself, but he held her there – kneeling between his legs and pressed to his chest – with a slightly hoarse ‘Stay still, the lighting’s better this way.’
Mi Cha could barely breathe as his delicate touch brushed over her wrists and he released her raw and aching hands.
‘Now what?’
‘How good is your speed on the treadmill?’
She pulled off her heels as the lanky man moved towards one of the side doors.
It seemed that they had reached the intended destination, since the van started to slow down from its breakneck pace, but Hyungwon didn’t wait for a stopping point as he yanked the handle back and pulled the door open.
The cold night air was a blast of harsh trepidation in her face. They were surrounded by narrow, dingy streets, littered with broken trash and filth, and towering, empty warehouses and shuttered stores. Busted streetlights flickered eerily. The hushed whispers from the polished company she kept had been little more than cheap gossip in describing how daunting the shady part of town was in person.
‘Jump.’ He commanded, and Mi Cha didn’t have to be told twice as she launched herself out of the damned vehicle, staggering heavily as she regained her footing.
Her companion was much more agile, and she didn’t even have a second to think of anything before his long fingers were wrapping around hers as he promptly broke into a run, dragging her along with him down a dark alley.
Loud, aggravated shouts broke out behind them, and she tried to ignore everything, which was hard to do when the number of footsteps giving chase increased. No doubt, backup had arrived.
The blood rushing to her brain dulled the pain from the debris on the ground slicing into her bare feet. The only thing in her vision was the back of Hyungwon’s ash blond head and his leather-jacket clad back as he led her through one grimy path after another, the buildings so close together that a bike would have had a hard time passing through. The yells and curses behind them grew louder and closer, and chills shot down her spine.
A striking crack sounded as Hyunwon kicked open a thin door, and then pushed her through into an unlit warehouse. Rows after rows of two-story high columns of crates and boxes made the place a maze. They hurried through the gaps and the she was being pushed to the floor behind a large container.
‘Stay here.’
‘Wh-where are you going?’ she managed, her voice shaking.
‘To find a way out.’
‘I’ll come with – ‘
‘No. I’ll come find you. Stay here.’
There was no room for argument with the finality in his low voice, and he gave her what she supposed was meant to be a reassuring nod before he left.
Mi Cha crouched on the dust-covered linoleum, her senses on high alert. A rather ironic Son and Sons stamp stared at her as she stared at its imprint on the crate in front of her.
Then came the echoing voices and footfalls.
Worn out shoes squeaked against the floor as their presence came nearer.
‘Find them! I’m not losing my balls for a high society bitch and her boy toy.’
‘They can’t have gone far, boss.’
‘You can give me that bullshit after you fucking find them, Jang.’
They were closer now, and fear had her mind whirring and her heart racing.
Stay or run?
Run or fight?
Even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew that there was no way she could take on two of them and make it out alive.
Terror fused ice in her veins, and she was about to gather the remnants of her courage and make a run for it when the dull thud of something accidentally falling over had a sudden silence covering the area.
‘That way.’ One of the men decided, and she heard them move away in the direction of the sound.
Mi Cha barely had a moment to let out a small sigh of relief before a smooth palm clamped over her mouth and an arm locked around her, pinning her hands to her sides.
And then she was fighting, twisting, turning, struggling to free herself from the constricted, ungiving grasp.
‘Shh. It’s me.’
Hyungwon.
Her breaths slowly calmed from fraught pants to deeper exhales as he released her.
‘This way.’ He said, and she mindlessly followed him, eager to be out of there.
Once he was sure they weren’t being followed, the tall man quickly moved through tight passageways to get them both outside, but he didn’t stop there. They walked past one dilapidated building after another, until one street was finally lit up by the dim light of a tiny convenience store. With old, blurry glass windows and peeling paint, it looked like you were likely to leave with much less money than planned based on the appearance of the current patrons of the shop.
Mi Cha watched as Hyungwon told her to wait, and nonchalantly strolled up to a man in his early thirties with a receding hairline and a loose black hoodie and jeans that probably needed a good wash. The man looked up from his motorcycle as Hyungwon spoke.
‘Here. I need your bike.’
She hadn’t even noticed him pull out the thin wad of 50,000 won notes.
‘No way dude. This is – ‘
The man stopped, his eyes widening to impossible limits as Hyungwon ever-so-casually adjusted his jacket, giving the man a subtle glimpse of the small revolver tucked into the inside pocket of the soft material.
Well, she definitely hadn’t noticed that either. And if she hadn’t been apprehensive before, she was now.
Just who the hell is he?
The other man practically ran for his life – but only after he’d snatched the money from her companion’s hand.
As the blond man turned towards her, she reflexively took a step back, and a stray sharp shard of glass cut into her foot.
‘Ow.’
Hearing her own voice broke the dam to let loose the flood that she had been holding at bay. In that moment of pause, the adrenaline that had been driving her drained away. Everything stormed into her brain at once – the flying bullets, the way she’d been hit, kidnapped, hurt, the men after her for no reason at all – and all of it hit her hard.
And then she was trembling, her thin arms wrapping around herself and her fingernails digging into her skin.
Her terrified eyes met his aquamarine irises, and something swirled and changed in their depths because then he was moving towards her, enveloping her into his arms. He ignored her initial squeak and as he rubbed a hand on her back, her composure returned bit by bit.
‘Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.’
His throaty voice reverberated through her, and his magnolia and mint scent was calming as she nodded into his chest.
At length, he pulled away, and for a moment, all he did was look into her dark eyes, an undecipherable expression on his face, like he was scrutinizing some idea in his head. She blinked, and the moment broke.
‘You’re good to go.’ He said.
Where would I go? Where do I go? I’m so lost.
‘They might come after me again.’ Mi Cha whispered.
‘They might.’
I’m scared, I’m so scared. I don’t want to die.
‘The street down there leads to the main road. I can give you enough for a taxi.’
Alone? At this hour? I don’t want to. I don’t want to be by myself. My God, I don’t even know this man, but he just saved my life. I … trust him.
‘Can I come with you?’
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- - - _ _ _- - - _ _ _ - - -
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Guilt wasn’t an emotion that Hyungwon was unfamiliar with, but he was able to brush it aside pretty easily for the most part. It was just a little harder that day, when he had this woman who was relieved to see him, who accepted being in his arms as a source of comfort after a harrowing experience, who trusted him.
She did, he could see it in those beautiful, dark eyes of hers.
And yet, he couldn’t just give up on Yoon Moon Jae’s only daughter when she was right in front of him, practically handed to him on a silver platter, all innocence and naivete because she sure as hell had no clue what her father actually did to make his money. The very daughter that Moon Jae had spent years’ worth of time and energy concealing so that no one knew her face and no one had ever heard her name. She was perfect in every way. A perfect beauty, she had an amazing resilience under trying circumstances – and she was the perfect weakness for his enemy.
He almost felt bad. Almost.
‘You’re good to go.’ He said.
Never. It’s too late for you.
‘They might come after me again.’
‘They might.’
They will. You’re a dead woman walking.
‘The street down there leads to the main road. I can give you enough for a taxi.’ Hyungwon forced himself to say.
I’ll never let you go. Just a little more, darling.
‘Can I come with you?’
Perfect.
(To be continued … )
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